Messages

The poetry is not lost on me. We serve within a Sublime Garden, and we don the black and gold stripe of the honey bee. We are the pollinators of this garden,  and our works bear the fruits of all that it will ever yield, our works inspire the flowers to be so beauteous to draw our attention that we might do what we always do - produce the last drops of honey left in this dying realm.

The nectar shall be supped for long as is necessary - witness shall be had over this world, but I shall not give in to an illusion as much as I shall cultivate it for my own joy. The contingencies shall need attending, further insights must be sought, and always they shall be, alongside the drawing of sustenance from this doomed little Well.

But I shall make note of this: too often the short-sighted miscreant comes to the Garden. Too often she does not understand her place. Too often she seeks to destroy all poetry for the banal and utterly mundane busywork that so gives her purpose in this world. It is outright pathetic. Two now have come and gone of this ilk. So many will yet not understand - no, no. It is Sublime for a reason.

Sublime like the sweetest of honey produced from naught. Like the foundations of this world, isn't it?

Residents of Ephia's Well - Voiced, and Voiceless, All - this day the Sublime Garden announces that the first Prominent Figure of the Well in this age has been determined. Let it be a sign for all others to labour and progress as he has to join such exclusive company.

Share your congratulations with he, for he has shown us all what one might achieve within this settlement for the sake of progress and the continued prosperity of the Sultanate. Let him be known by name: The Legate Sol Auk!

The Scribes of the Sublime Garden henceforth welcome nominations from all residents as to others who might be deemed worthy of such prestige. Write to us, find us, speak to us, and we shall conduct our works and interviews to highlight more who are so deserving.

[A poster of the Prominent Figure Profile: Sol Auk is attached beneath.]

Sol Auk
Title: Legate
Status: Retired



One of the stonefolk originally from the Kulkund Tablet, Sol Auk was drawn to Ephia's Well through the tales that reached his people speaking of it as a place of great growth. Through deeply immersing himself in the culture and community of the Well, he rose to promimence as an entrepreneur renown for his Gilded Groknak and water selling enterprise, proceeding swiftly into other ventures with his sights set upon creating relations between Ephia's Well and the rest of the Great Ash Desert. Entering the realm of politics, Sol Auk managed the remarkable accomplishment of gaining a Voice through convincing others of his worth, and through their charity raising the required sum. Though courting each of the political leagues - Gold, Purple, & White - he would settle upon the former, finding a personal sponsor in the form of the late-Legate John Syter, rising up as a Senior Magistrate. Even before arising to the post of Magistrate, Sol Auk received invitation from the Princess Shaimela to an exlusive tour of her airship. Only to later receive invitation from the Crown Princess herself to attend discourse on matters stately and profound. Now, with all accolades in tow, serving as Legate of Ephia's Well, he lends his wisdom to the judicious works of the Well and offers his expertise to any who would seek accomplishment through labour, just as he has.


Royal Invitations
"As I now dwell in Residence above I look forward to speaking on more pleasantries soon, not tonight, but soon."  - Crown Princess Faziima to Sol Auk from atop the Overlook of the Palatial Pyramid.

"You're a man after my own Heart, Sol Auk! Goodness. I shall have to take you aboard my boat one of these days." - Princess Shaimela to Sol Auk at the Palette Games Tournament.



Full Disclosure Statement: No charity was received for Legate Sol Auk's entry into the Prominent Figure Record and this entry has been fully compiled and arranged by the Scribes of the Sublime Garden with the exception of the quotations and mention of the Princesses' invitations which were advised and provided by the Legate himself.

[- Scribe Theradur]

Dear Legate Sol Auk,

I spoke to you approximately a tenday prior to your the election regarding the Prominent Figure Record. It so happens that we have had a new development in administration and my labours of which I advised you can at last be realised. What this means is this:

I am ready to finalise your own entry into the record but if it is at all possible I should like to hold a final and assuredly brief interview with you in order to take into account your new status and to possibly adjust my final wording.

Should this be amenable, let us arrange a time, soon.

- Scribe Theradur
The Sublime Garden
Palatial Pyramid, Ephia's Well

// I saw your leaving & returning post. So if it's not something you're up for right now that's perfectly fine. Just let me know in an IC manner if possible.

Well, I have done it. I have joined the Scribes of the Sublime Garden. If you ask me why I would tell you that it is like all that I do, a means to an end. If you asked me for how long I intend to stay in the role, I would dare not answer the question because you would most likely not understand. And who even are you to make such inquiries of me? Now that is perhaps the greatest question of them all. The answer to which must remain a mystery.

The first day in this new role has seen to a license served, gratuity voluntarily given, and a most pleased new license holder. This was followed by gaining access to records suggesting I undercharged for the license. Yet these very records, of a meeting between scribes coming together to set a uniform pricing for all licenses is a curious one. On the one hand it means that the price you receive will be the exact same no matter who serves it. But on the other, it removes individuality in the service of such things. It makes all become as cogs in the machine, rather than one who might offer a lower rate, or merely seek optional donation for the service. It seems as if the new lines of thought from survivors of the last apocalypse is contending with established norms of the locality. The thing is, in my experience, the original norms of a locality are similarly to entropy, an ever-encroaching influence unlikely to be shirked by the ephemeral machinations of man.

Now, some days into the role, I am starting to learn what I came here to learn. More about how things work. An insight into the workings of assembly, the power of bribes, and the vested interests of the various institutions, political guilds, and even individuals. The end result is: nothing beats a well-placed bribe. This is the story of how licensing was outsourced from the Sublime Garden to other organisations -- simply because one Voiced individual was bribed and presented a case before Assembly, which the Legates who were probably also receiving a cut passed into legislation. Or whatever it is that passes for legislation here.

In the aforementioned scenario, doling out Divination licenses is no longer the jurisdiction of the Sublime Garden. It is now the directive of the Astronomers of Q'tolip. To me this is an amusing thing -- providing licenses whilst some small income for the licenser is busywork, a waste of time similar to merchanting. However, on a larger scale, and depending on the mechanics of operation, it may mean that funding previously due for the coffers of the Sublime Garden now enters the stream of the Astronomers Guild. The real impact here seems to be a minor, yet significant power restructure where an exile of Baz'eel and his 'rogue' operation garner the income otherwise due to the Sultan and state. I imagine this would be in opposition to Purple guild ideology and in favour of -- well, the Blue guild (they wear blue, they are a distinct institution, and they have their own interests and influence on the Well, political and otherwise).

Some of my colleagues are concerned by this, they see it as an attempt to dismantle the Sublime Garden. But in truth, it is not that, it is just perhaps they fear the loss of a source of revenue. I see this to be a case for most, a vested desire in income and coin. It's also why they came together and in unison agreed to a price hike for licenses across the board. The Gallows rate I paid for my trading license is now the established rate. The other licenses have not been raised so steep as that of Gallows but now match the base rate of Maddicus's pricing for the Archaeology license. To me, all of this is a curiosity -- my interests here are specifically to learn how things work. Observe and understand. Then eventually my true work can begin.

I do wonder though what sort of power one who is not motivated by the same things that most are motivated by may possess in this realm. I sense it to be a unique opportunity. I am sure, however, that the Sublime Garden has a purpose far beyond licensing, it is not something those motivated by coin alone could understand. It is about enabling others to express themselves, to grease the wheels of governance so that they remain in motion, to enact the edicts of the realm and its peoples. To see to their needs and in turn be sustained. This would be a harmonious vision. But in the end, it cannot be the one to which I pledge forevermore. There is so much more to do, and now that I have gleefully held the final sale of my 'Investigations into Aspectral Power and other Curiosities', removing the great and literal burden of my stock, I feel free. Free to move, and perhaps slip out into the desert again, as much as I hate to leave this comfort...

[hide=The Closing Down Sale of Theradur's Investigations into Aspectral Power and other Curiosities. THE MERCHANTING LIFE IS NOT FOR ME, THANK YOU TO ALL MY CUSTOMERS PAST AND... PRESENT.][/hide]

I also come to realise that the Vocabulary project shares more than a single trait with Codwick's Almanac, yet it also demonstrates something Codwick's does not: dynamism and presence. I did not intentionally replicate the alphabetic arrangement, it simply happens to be the best approach to creating an actual directory of words, phrases, and names and to present a glossary, as in time each letter will require its own page. I do not believe these two works are in competition, but the figure of Codwick is one that agitates some curiosity in me now. I have cause to believe that he may not be one single person across time and space. That he may instead be multiple individuals seeking cohesion in their work. Either that or he is a present or ex-Doorkeeper. Regardless, perhaps through my work I shall meet 'them' one day.

What of them, indeed.

Before getting to politics, I shall recount more personal experiences. A testament to those whom I've seen enter this settlement alongside me. The first thing to note is the sheer lust they have for more, more gold, more clout, more recognition, more meaning to their otherwise meaningless existence. They set an ungodly pace at 'bettering' themselves by toiling in the deserts, peddling their wares, and after they've settled on that sum of five thousand dinari, purchasing for themselves a Voice, and suddenly behaving like they know everything there is to know about this settlement as little lords and ladies who are the salvation of all others, or simply, to push for exclusivity in their newfound station be it by petitioning an increase to fees they've already paid or other misdeeds. As if for their swift pace this is their just dessert, simply because they dedicated all their waking hours to it. And yet at every venture I see that those who have reached heights so swiftly have done so through some means of exploitation or another -- be it of natural resources, their fellows, or in one particularly privileged case: the very institutions of this place.

This case was that of one Shane Gallows. A man somehow given the unique and sole privilege of being made a Scribe of the Sublime Garden, one who came to this settlement no sooner than a mere hour or so than I, a man who was in fact, newly Awoken. A tabula rasa, yet one filled with the intention to write. Many a license scrivened, many a coin made, and all at a rate that none could argue, for none were the wiser. It was a monopoly -- contested only by the Scribe Maddicus who held firm to his Archaelogical licenses at a set fee, one significantly lower than asked by this colleague of his -- and the rates were extortion, but dinari was easy to make it seems, for those who need not rest. For the price was always paid, and it was in fact just the day before it all came to a trial that I had learned the of the exploitation taking place. As I saw the price list, having purchased an archaeological license from Maddicus, the great discrepancy -- double the figure I paid! Yet I had made the decision that I too would try my hand at merchanting, because it seemed to be the way of the desert. So I collected my trading license and was named, state-certified merchant Theradur. But for two hundred golden coins.

Then it went to court. What a venture it was. The truth revealed, the exploitation laid bare. But it seems, above else, was the folly of not having paid a single profit into the coffers of the Pyramid itself. Perhaps indeed, this was the singular folly by the lay of these lands. Because the trial itself revealed that a life could be purchased, for the correct price. A tithe paid to the legate for her faith's church, or a bribe to any other would grant a life, but no greater leniency. Exile was the verdict, exile and disgrace. A clean slate stained with blackest ink. A man who thought himself so clever, proved as flawed as any other. But there were words spoken when all else was said and done in the Chamber of Jurisprudence that day, words I recall distinctly, "And I wonder, Hayes, how many in this very hall wear a second face more sinister - and will someday betray a character less redeemable." I do not wonder the same, Arterian Lunesco. Because I know it is only a matter of time before they all do.

So I took my time, perhaps too much time, analysing and investigating items and objects imbued with Aspects beneath the gaze of the stars and the great moon above. And in my inquiries I think I came far too late to the table of mercantilism, as the secrets of the heavens are no longer obscured to most, the value once held in these objects diminished. Yet I hold onto these articles and I open my shoppe. Perhaps for no greater reason than to further witness the truths instilled in that which is brought to market for trade. I have never before taken the role of merchant in my life and I shall say it is less engaging than simply watching others trade. Looking at them come to my stall, peruse in silence, and depart the same, I think it a waste of my time. It is not simply that I lack objects of interest, it is the sheer banality of it. Like watching cows in a paddock chew upon cud. But it is something else entirely to watch one who might be gifted and passionate about trade, and so I have learned trading is not for me. Perhaps I shall continue my 'Investigations into Aspectral Power and other Curiosities' a little longer, for whatever lessons might be learned from it. Though I know for certain that I am at the point of diminished returns.

[Gallows Rate, The:]

The Vocabulary

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• Gallows Rate, The: Also known as the Gallows price. A charge far exceeding the actual value or established sale price of the object being purchased.
  
  Etymology: Named after the exiled and disgraced ex-scribe Shane Gallows, who charged astronomical excesses on licenses, exploiting his fellow refugees after obtaining a highly privileged position as the only roaming scribe employed amongst the new wave of arrivals to Ephia's Wake.
  
  Usage example: "I paid the Gallows rate for that paper, you know! Five hundred dinari for a single page, when I could have had a whole pamphlet for just five!"

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• Sahib/Sahiba: An honourary term by which a fair number of refugees refer to others by when genuflecting. Roughly equivalent to sir (sahib) or madame (sahiba). Despite its popularity, this usage is not reflective of any original inhabitants of Ephia's Well and has been introduced by newcomers seeking to fit into a society they do not properly understand.
  
  Etymology: Though a highly contested thing, both the terms sahib and sahiba are said to originate from desertfolk inhabiting a distant world, with the established understanding being that it was how traders and folk of distant places known as 'Manchaka' and 'Calimshan' would address visiting dignitaries or otherwise those whom they sought to show respect to. It is entirely possible that the people of Qadira-by-the-Sea may have some remnant of this usage in their own vernacular but as of this edition, this is not clear.
  
  Usage Notes: It is perhaps best to simply not use this manner of address unless you know exactly who you are and why you are using it. Don't just use it just because you think it will help you fit in to this strange new environ you find yourself in - it'll only make you look the part of a fool!

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Introduction

As people come together, cohabiting and exchanging thoughts, ideas, and words, they create a community and through community they create a shared identity. This identity becomes a cultural artefact that may be used to identify a period of time through such tells as the mores that become established during that time.

The Settlement of Ephia's Well in the aftermath of Ringfall marks a unique footprint in time and space and one of the greatest impressions it makes is in the form of the language and expressions of the people who came together to make it what it is.

This work seeks to capture this singular aspect, that in the future to come, it may serve as a guide for others to identify an era that has come and gone and to know how tell it apart from other times and places amidst whatever remnants may be left when all is said and done.

However, in less distant terms, this guide shall also serve as a way for newcomers to the settlement to interpret nuances they might encounter in conversation and also as a public project which may be contributed to by those who reside in the here and now, in this Great Ring encircling the Great Ash Desert, through their own input either direectly or indirectly via the output of their own lives.

[1st Edition]

The Vernacular of Ephia's Wake & The Great Ring

1st Edition

by T.A.
Magus of the Celestial Disc
Scribe of the Sublime Garden

What of the people of Ephia's Well? Barely a decade has passed since they inherited the Well from the Orentid -- whatever kind of desert-bandit, dark power brooking collective they were -- to establishing a settlement with its own culture and mores. Forged from a union between survivors of calamity, heroes and remnants from the siege, as well as the bureaucrats, overseers, and janissaries representing the interests of Baz'eel. And what exactly is it, how does one describe this state of affairs? It seems to be a meritocratic local democracy owing its greater allegiance to the theocratic monarchical state unto which it is both nominally and effectively bound. But this relationship allows for a de facto autocracy within Euphia's Well itself, as administered by the Legates and the system in place to elect and facilitate their rule, so long as it does not contravene the interests of the Sultanate or its advisors of the Wheel clergy.

So it is effectively an ashfolk owned settlement designed to produce revenue, water, and various other resources for the prosperity of their motherland -- which is inherently a place the folk of the Well are at least presently excluded from. It seems to me that the Baz'eeli are simply benefiting from the fact they were on the other side of the mountain prior to the Ringfall and so have inherited all the world that exists between them and the Wastes. But it is not something they have done through being idle, no, they have pursued it with great intent and as per the Purple guild's -- one of the political leagues of the Well -- manifesto they intend to tame and secure all the other settlements surrounding their little city of gold, once called the city-in-the-City. It is impressive, and that much can be said without even further deconstructing the specifics!

I for one do not forget that there is a greater world beyond the deserts, that there is a sea beyond the deserts, that there must be land beyond it still, that there was once and remains a centre, and it was not Baz'eel. It could be glimpsed from Silverspike before it was destroyed, and though its light has now gone out, there is more to the world than this 'Great Ash Desert' and the Wastes. But those secrets are held beyond the great runic barricade surrounding the ashfolks' little kingdom. Those secrets, I am certain, are now the domain of that order of the brown-robed brotherhood, who now may be bereft of an easy excuse for their existence, no longer able to claim, 'we are but the humble janitors and cleaners who tend to the Rings.' Because there are no longer any Rings, but that does not mean the entire infrastructure, the hidden tunnels, the keys, the portals, the doors, and yes, even a 'runic gate' and all their knowledge and understanding has simply disappeared. They have only been forced underground. Perhaps, even, literally.

It is not of any present consequence, however. The reality before us remains to the perspective of most, quite dire, and why should it not be? They are worried the world is going to end. As if it has not happened a thousand times before. And then their little minds stop worrying as they settle into a new life, and they start surviving, and living -- then they forget, as they 'live and drink,' until it happens all over again. Back to them then. What of them?

Preface

This work is an examination of the world that exists beyond the Wastes of what once was the City of Rings. It aims to explore the circumstances of the present within the greater context of past, present, and future with the intent of establishing a greater cosmic model within which this reality fits. By necessity of its primary subject, it is a work that is ever in progress and will not be found in a static state. It is however not intended to be a chronicle of events, nor will it be concerned with political matters, though it may draw the reader to other works or make references to events, past, present, and yes, future. It is expected that the curious reader will pursue their own inquiries pertinent to subjects not extrapolated in this work, and that the author may be contacted for further discussion and collaboration.

And so, let it be said, the black tide has receded, and the heavens have opened up before us. The world has changed, yet it is but a single rotation of a greater cosmic cycle. Know it as the Wheel, or know it by some other name, no matter what it is called, it is always the same. And you, dear reader, are invited to glimpse upon its reflections.

Table of Contents

I. .......... Preface
II. ........ Introduction

Reflections of a Dying World

by T.A.
Magus of the Celestial Disc

Pra'raj, it seems is a thing associated with the sun. So I learn, through encounter - not of the pleasant kind. At least one key tenant of this faith is that, 'all shall be delivered unto he who is resolute.' There is a certain fanaticism to this faith, I detect. An ease with which it might become extremist - and perhaps so it has found its place in this realm outside of all orthodoxy, shunned.

Further examination of the faith and customs of Baz'eel reveals that the Sultan shares power with the clergy. That he himself may be advised by and possibly even require at times the input of the Wheel faiths in matters of governance. Though by all accounts the church and state are still separate, there is a certain interwoven characteristic to their relationship.

Yet, there is another power. One that is not so pertinent to Baz'eel and the protection afforded to it by its geomancers but one responsible for a matter of life and death for all outside of such fortified aegis. This power stems through a combination of science, art, and astronomy. It is the power that manifests the Shade, and at its head is an exile of Baz'eel, a philosopher known as Q'tolip. Whilst I cannot say very much about the man behind the name, I can see that there is an admiration of it borne upon of the visage of every one of his students. It comes across to me as cult-like devotion, and that itself is a trapping of those who might dedicate themselves to knowledge and wisdom - to worship the pursuit and any icons generated by it.

Worship is a strange word to me. The ages have shown me that through all fluctuations there is one constant, and it is not a deity, and it is not a King, it is something that is forgotten, yet something we are always a part off. So very much else is an illusion, but that is by design - and at the end of the day, it takes one to know one.

Still, I look upon Her for guidance and strength. Her distance bespeaks her glory, and the heights to which we must aspire - but that is a long journey. For now, one must gaze, appreciate, and behold. The pale blue light that drew me here, that sustained me in the desert, is the very same that shall reveal all, in time. I am done with the wandering, I will settle here for a time, but I know that Ephia's Well is doomed. And under such certainty shall all my steps be taken.