[✗] The Tragedy of Aethuin, The Weeping Lady

[Narthok 9213]

The Tragedy of Aethuin, The Weeping Lady

The Aengul of Destiny

Spoiler

 

 

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          Dearest reader, In my many travels I have come across the wild and wondrous fables and myths of the many peoples that dwell in this world. From the stories of the hill tribes, passed from tongue to tongue stretching back into the endless aeons. To the ancient records of Empire. Olde and new. There is even great wealth to be found amongst the commonfolk, enamoured with their cups after a long day’s labours. Thus comes the purpose of my days. I have no aspirations for great wealth or soaring titles, I am merely a learned man, of some modest inheritance. Who aspires to chart what meagre knowledges I can to perhaps sketch the heavens, and the hells.  And so dearest reader, if you have come upon my publication then I have, in some small capacity achieved a portion of my life’s writ. I shall begin my Lexicon with the recounting of a tale, that holds some special fondness in my heart. A tale of invisible chains, stronger than any wrought of steel. Of a woe, a grief so immense it brought the very stars to tears. I shall tell the tale of the Weeping Lady. I shall tell the tale, of Aethuin.

 

          I came upon this fable during my wanderings in the far reaches of the Northemarch. Plying my trade amongst the tribes and clans of that savage frontier it was asked of me. “Scholar, what news from the south”. By men of considerable coarseness, their days lived in hardship and struggle. And so I replied, “A tale, a tale for news. Nothing more, nothing less” A bargain methinks, and so did this noble savage. He led me to the depths of the camp to the hearth of an old crone. Her frame, bent weighed down by the immense weight of years so frail it almost surpassed belief. About her, a horde of village children. Savages monsters to a last. Yet by some miracle they were rendered utterly silent, and utterly still. Waiting, with bated breath for the tale of this venerable Elder. I took my seat at the back of the dwelling, seated on the pelt of some foreign beast. I had barely settled my tools, my pen barely wettened as the Crone began her tale.

 

          “In times long ago, when the greatest of my grandmothers still roamed the lands, the sun walked the earth. Taking a mortal woman to wife, and from her siring a child. But we shall not speak of that blasphemy this day. For that is a tale for another time” she muttered softly, her words met with an audible groan from the oldest of the children, before their laments were cut short by a single curt glance. “This was the age of the Ancient ones, Gods one and all. Each roaming the lands as they now roam the lands beyond the skies. They lived their lives in gaiety, content to dine upon the fruits of plenty. Sated with women, with wine, with music and rest. But even amongst the Ancients, there were those of singular purpose. Rejecting temptations and the blasphemies of their fellows.”

 

          The crone paused, a moment a smile teasing her lined face before she continued “You would perhaps know him as the Old Man, the Betrayed. But when the world of mortals was still young. He was called, Zecharael. He disdained the arrogance, the decadence, the blasphemy of his kinfolk. How could his brethren, sons and lords of the very Heavens themselves be so.. Base.” Her breath dropped, thinning to the barest glimpse of a whisper “It was through this that he captured the gaze of the maiden. Of the Ancients she was, a creature apart from the rest. Distinct, strange. Her eyes saw far, knowing destiny itself. Knowing what was to come and what was to be for each being she gazed upon. Yet her lips could utter no sound, her fingers. Compose no letters. Thus she suffered, in enlightened silence. As she watched her fellows go about their doom. Despite her solitude, ostracized by her fellows. Her poor heart ached for the love of Zecharael. Yet never did she catch his eye. For he had one love, and naught would pull him from it.” As she uttered the last words, a small girl amongst the gathered children raised her hand “What was his love?” she asked. Smiling sadly the elder responded, a sombre tone echoing through her words“Rightness, Justice.

 

          “But as with all times of softness, of plenty. This peace too would end. A great battle rising from the ranks of the gods themselves. The betrayer drew forth his blade. Splitting the heavens apart as his envy and rage consumed him. Battle after battle was fought, with countless ancients falling from the heavens, losing their holy grace, or their very lives. Yet each time Zecharael would return. Having thrown himself into the midst of the heaviest fighting each time he would bear the most hideous of wounds, sufficient to lay a lesser creature low many times over. And each time the maiden would bind his wounds silently before sending him off. Yet each battle, took its toll upon the mind of Zecharael. And with each tortured night terror, each fit of rage. The Maiden wept silent tears for the woes of her beloved, her affections unanswered, cut as knives into her very soul. For the mind of her beloved was becoming a dark thing. A holy purpose turned obsession as tendrils of madness crept into his mind, the rigors of war a burden for even the mightiest of the Ancients.”

 

          “As the war of the Ancients reached it fervor, even the heavens began to crack under the strain. Zecharael made his disdain for his fellows known. The Lord of the Morning’s fraternization with the mortals was blasphemy. An affront to the natural order of things. He and his fellows would meet their justice when this war was done.” The ancient paused a moment, a far off look cresting her gaze before she plunged back into her tale consumed by a strange trance “The final battle was to be fought, the Betrayer and his forces had been outmaneuvered. Now was the time to strike. Zecharael returned to his court, fetching his hammer, his armour and rallying the servants of the court. As he attempted to depart, he was met by Aethuin. She grasped his arm trying feebly to pull him from the gate. But to no avail. He departed, leaving the maiden on her knees, a torrent of tears pouring down her face. And so battle was joined. The Fallen were set upon by the forces of the Heavens. And blow by blow, Zecharael forced his way to the center. Facing down the betrayer the two exchanged blows neither giving ground. Yet as the duel reached its pitch a horn blew. Turning for but a moment Zecharael watched in despair as his allies withdrew, leering down on him as they left him alone. Surrounded.” The ancient woman paused once more, shaking her head sadly

 

          “When the battle ended they found his corpse. Lying alone amidst the fallen so much, smaller in death. They carried him home lying on his shield. Past the weeping of Aethuin, still kneeling where she had been before the departure of her beloved. It was on that day that the Maiden bound her eyes. Tying a cloth about them so she could not gaze unto others, in a futile attempt to suppress her blessing, her curse.” And so the Crone’s voice faded, her tale ending. I packed my tools, wrapping them up and placing them within my satchel before I approached the old woman. I aksed her once “Is it true?” and all I received in return, was a smile the eyes of the woman glazed, seeing something far beyond what I could ever hope to perceive

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OOC: In my last few lore submissions I approached it largely oocly merely telling people, providing detail and context. When I spoke to ScreamingDingo about my submissions he criticized the fact that lore should ideally be introduced through an RP context rather than being canonized following a sterile submission of lore. Lore is Lore rather than a statement of history or of fact. It is in my eyes made better by the application of context, of culture and of events and that is what transforms history and myth into lore proper. Ramblings aside. I wrote Aethuin with the intent of populating the heavens and giving some more context to the history of Aenguls and Daemons and doing so in an RP context. I feel that the Aenguls don’t have enough narrative behind them to be truly engaging, with some exceptions. I am also really interested in the idea of one’s blessing or perfection being a curse as a general gimmick. Which is why I thought a woman cursed by her own prescience but unable to communicate her knowledge to her fellows would be very interesting.

[MunaZaldrizoti 5709]

This is not to be rude or to criticize your lore, because I like your writing style, but I was under the assumption that Aenguldaemonic lore, besides the Holy Order rewrites, were currently on hold? I have submitted several aengul diety submissions myself and have been told such, and have received replies from LT saying that that entire area of lore is currently on pause due to the mass overhaul on magic lore in general.

 

Again, this isn't to say your lore is bad, because I like the concept of this aengul and her plight, but I can otherwise only assume that you've been given special permission from staff to submit this, which seems a bit unfair to me.

[Narthok 9213]

Just now, EternalSaturn said:

This is not to be rude or to criticize your lore, because I like your writing style, but I was under the assumption that Aenguldaemonic lore, besides the Holy Order rewrites, were currently on hold? I have submitted several aengul diety submissions myself and have been told such, and have received replies from LT saying that that entire area of lore is currently on pause due to the mass overhaul on magic lore in general.

 

Again, this isn't to say your lore is bad, because I like the concept of this aengul and her plight, but I can otherwise only assume that you've been given special permission from staff to submit this, which seems a bit unfair to me.

I don't talk to LT at all brother. I just submit lore that I have fun writing. If A/D lore is on hold then I'm sure this will be denied. I just think its a cool concept that adds some spice. 

[rukio 8910]

Why can't your city have some old woman in a rocking chair that just bakes cookies and tells the youth these stories man?

[Narthok 9213]

4 hours ago, Hyena said:

Why can't your city have some old woman in a rocking chair that just bakes cookies and tells the youth these stories man?

We do, its just a pervy old man named Exander instead

[GodEmperorFlam 3447]

Thank you for submitting your piece, it is being squeezed into the current loremag. Expect results sometime on the 5^th or 6^th of December.

 

Thread is being locked to prevent edits to the lore while voting occurs (if you need to make edits, contact me). Also, if you have feedback regarding the lore that you wish to pass to the LT, feel free to toss me a PM.

[GodEmperorFlam 3447]

This Lore has been denied. A few on the team had issues with how it was written. While Joel’s comment regarding sterile lore is indeed something that people should strive for, you also don’t want to make it pure narrative without any OOC explanation. Having a story for your piece at the start or writing up a Legend piece to accompany your lore is good, but the issue here is that it was all story and no real explanation. If you want to use the lore in future it’d be hard to look at this and figure out what exactly you’re going for here. All you need to add for the OOC part is where it ties into existing lore (I see mention of Zech) and if this is a legend that people can know about IRP or if it’s a story that Aengudaemons would know or what. This shouldn’t take long, but if you need help feel free to hmu. I look forward to the resubmission.

 

Topic moved to Denied Lore forum.