Storytelling
From the Singularity Weapons quest introduced in Lonely in the World.
Dropped by Gragghk.
Storytelling
The fourth installment of a tale by Martine.
Storytelling or Children's tales notwithstanding, how life usually does not end happily ever after, but just ends.
Once upon a time, there was a Mosswart named Arrgkh Mearrgkh. He grew up on a far away world, surrounded by other Mosswarts in his tribe. Life consisted mostly of finding food and fighting off neighboring tribes of Mosswarts, or even fighting cousin bands of Banderlings or Drudges. Arrgkh Mearrgkh's father was the Chieftain of their tribe, and Arrgkh Mearrgkh was trained well in all the arts necessary to successfully lead the tribe. He was a skilled hunter and tracker, and he was an excellent warrior.
Those were the skills that all Mosswart Chieftains were trained in, but there was a special responsibility for the Chieftain of Arrgkh's tribe, one that had been passed down from father to son for as long as there had been the Mosswart Tribe. A Tribal Shroud, depicting the first free Mosswart who had escaped from his alien captors and freed the rest of his people.
Arrgkh's tribe believed that the soul of the First Mosswart lay dormant in the cloth, and that it was their job to safeguard the Shroud for as long as their world lasted. Arrgkh trained long and hard to learn the seven steps to consecrate the cloth necessary for the nightly sacrament. He learned the four proper ways of folding the Shroud, and how to make and apply the jungle balm that kept the Shroud smooth and oily so that it would not crinkle and crumble in pieces.
Sometimes other Mosswart or Banderling tribes would covet the Shroud, and seek to obtain it through trickery, trade or warfare, but Arrgkh's tribe had stayed true throughout their thousands of years of ownership, and the Shroud remained in their hands.
One day, while the tribe was gathering the pods necessary to make the shroud oil, there appeared a blinding blue flash in front of them. The Mosswarts' instincts were to scatter, but they knew they had to protect the Shroud from attack. So the mudlurkers and barkers stood their ground, as Arrgkh Mearrgkh's father cautiously approached the shimmering blue oval.
When the Chief stepped through the oval, a great clamoring went up, and no one knew what to do. But Arrgkh could not abandon his father. And so, after making sure that the Shroud would be well protected for the journey, he and the rest of the tribe stepped through the portal. And into a new world.
The new world was difficult to adapt to. They not only had to deal with the familiar cousin races of their homeland, but new and ferocious creatures. Lugians, wasps, gromnies. Many members of the tribe were buried in this alien land, including Arrgkh's father, who fell while defending the Shroud from a massive Banderling attack. But Arrgkh assumed the Chieftain's duties, as he was born to do, and other Mosswarts who had been portalled into the new world took the spots of the fallen, and the tribe survived. The Shroud was kept safe always.
And then one day, the Mosswarts no longer died. Even when their bodies were slain, they would end up reappearing soon afterwards in a strange hue of purple. Most of the tribe figured it was a gift from the First Mosswart. And if any of the more learned Mosswarts thought there may have been some other cause, none spoke of it openly. After this change, the tribe grew and prospered, and Arrgkh Mearrgkh became a wise and powerful chief, one who sought to ensure the continued prosperity of his people and continued sanctity of the Shroud.
As a result of this endeavor, eventually he met with a group of strange purple cloaked beings, with masks on their faces, distinguished mainly by their complete lack of smell. Their huge tusked minions more than made up for the no-smells' lack, though. Arrgkh was uneasy about dealing with creatures whom he couldn't identify by smell, but his uneasiness was more than balanced by what the no-smells said they could offer him and his tribe. Wealth. Power. Safety. If the no-smells could deliver what they promised, he and his tribe could potentially be secure forever.
But first he had to deliver what the no-smells wanted. A silly diversionary attack against some neighboring Banderlings and stealing a useless banderling artifact. Waiting for a human to come to their stronghold and then taking the human captive. The banderling attack to retrieve their artifact was expected, and the no-smells had already imprinted in Arrgkh the location of their next destination. Days of traveling through swamps and forests and deserts to come to a tangled mess of corridors and halls. The human was little problem, although he talked too much. But Arrgkh could ignore him, the no-smells would take him soon enough.
Finally, the no-smells came, this time with strange creatures that had glowing hands. And they delivered what had been promised. Arrgkh Mearrgkh was granted abilities beyond anything he had ever thought possible. He had never conceived of power on this scale. He had always had the power to lead his tribe, but that was a responsibility as much as power. This was pure power, the power to create or destroy with no consequences. Arrgkh Mearrgkh handed over the captive human, and then he opened up a portal. With his own hands. Arrgkh Mearrgkh let his tribe step through the portal and then he followed through.
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-- Martine