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TINEL
THE
HEAVENLY
ARCHMAGE
TINEL THE
ALOOFOn this page
we provide new myths of Tinel, god of magic, secrets and
knowledge. We hope to expand this section with myths provided by readers. If
you've created myths for your campaign, please email them to us at:
BOTR@GREENRONIN.COM.
(submission
details)
New Myth for Tinel, the Aloof:
The Source of Tinel’s Sorrow
The following story can
help explain what happened to Valossa in a game that incorporates Freeport.
It hearkens to the schism in the Tinelite faith (Tinel being the God of
Knowledge in Freeport), and a possible explanation for Tinel’s becoming
Aloof beyond what appears in the myth of the Fourteen Wizards. This story
was written by Joe G. Kushner and belongs to him. In-game, it was penned by
an unknown author, and can be introduced to a campaign dealing with the
cosmological ramifications of the existence of the Unspeakable One. It can
be used as the basis of a heretical cult of Tinel that believes Tinel and
Yig are one and the same (which can be the truth if you like, of course).
OME
say Tinel believes individuals to be capable
of limitless wonders. Some believe that his followers must always rise above
the restrictions placed on them, surpass the limits placed before them. All
accept that twice in our history it has been proven that limits are not
always meant to be overcome. But perhaps it was three times…
I knew that I shouldn’t have listened in on the conversation between the
Armarius and Dorlion, but I was but a Neophyte then. I knew not what
betrayals would come that day...
“Revered Master, I fear that all is not correct in the ancient texts that we
study.” Dorlion stood proud, a full equal to the Armarius, despite his lack
of inceptoral training. His magical might was whispered of in many kingdoms
and lands, and his recent exploits in Freeport were being sung of by bards
and recorded by historians.
“You concern yourself with things that are past, my son. You must
concentrate on your future. More tea?” Revered Master Kalian poured the
imported green tea with a deft hand, not letting a drop spill. “Some say
that you are in a position to challenge the Five Hierophants themselves. No
small matter.” Revered Master Kalian was proud of Dorlion, a true scion of
Tinel. Still, he wished that Korath, Dorlion’s Mage Guard companion, hadn’t
perished in Freeport. The detailed reports Defender Korath provided proved
interesting and showed the many facets of Dorlion’s personality.
“Revered Master, do you think that Tinel keeps secrets from his followers?”
“If he does, my child, it is only so that we have matters to occupy us. Why?
Have you discovered something? A new spell perhaps? A fancy trinket?” The
Armarius leaned back in his chair, preparing himself for a good story.
“What do you know of Valossa, Revered Master?” The question was asked almost
nonchalantly, but the Armarius sensed a dangerous undercurrent to the tone.
“Valossa? Nothing more than a legend. Like many old islands referred to in
ancient texts by philosophers who think they have a point to prove and
conjure a phantom to do so, making their object of reference an island that
sank long ago. There have been many such islands of fancy over the years.”
Revered Master Kalian began to feel sweat start to bead on his forehead. Why
would Dorlion ask such a question? Where did he hear of Valossa? He was
certain that all who believed in the wicked blasphemy of Valossa were dead,
the records of their inquiry destroyed. He was
certain.
“It seems that some of the problems Freeport suffers are rooted in an old
past. A past dark and dangerous. Perhaps too dangerous for inquiry?” There
was a hint of a smile on Dorlion’s lips.
“Speak, my child. Ease your burden.”
“We both know that different races worship Tinel under different names. To
some he is the Great Innovator. To others, the Lord of Steam. To those of
Valossa, some whisper that he was known as Yig.” Dorlion sipped his tea
casually as he spoke.
“Yig? We have some reference works that make that connection, or at least
suggest it. The
Serpent Man
mind is difficult to understand.”
“Indeed…” The mage nodded sagely and paused as if he was unsure of his duty.
Eventually, he continued. “It is commonly agreed that Kador is a mad god, is
it not, Revered Master?”
“Of course.”
“It is also known that Tinel is known to suffer from a malaise that is felt
on all the planes. Some have whispered that his wife’s tender caresses… her
dalliances… have driven the Keeper of the Keys mad.”
“Careful, mage. You begin to tread on
blasphemous ground.”
“I just speak of the text Revered Master, nothing more. Nothing more…”
The Armarius didn’t like where this was headed. Still, he wasn’t about to
let the mage stop speaking. Before he acted, he had to be sure. He had to
know.
“Some whisper that Tinel is so mad that even he doesn’t even know it. That
he encourages advancement in all things unto madness. That in this guise he
is known by another name,” the mage continued, speaking slowly and eying his
teacup. Revered Master Kalian silently prayed that Dorlion would not say
what he knew in his heart he would.
“In this mad guise, in this shapeless form, they call him the Unspeakable
One.” The very uttering of this blasphemy seemed to embolden Dorlion, and he
continued more forcefully. “It was in this guise that he destroyed Valossa
in seconds. Some of those descendants of the Serpent People who survive
whisper that they know it is he. Can they not tell the god they worshipped
and the god we worship to this day are one and the same? I interrogated one
of them; he said that we use the same rituals, the same invocations, the
same ceremonies that they did in their earliest days to worship Yig.”
"This is why Tinel is a sorrowful god,” Dorlion concluded, “It is because he
knows what he is, that he is mad, but cannot – or will not – cure himself."
Kalian’s knuckles paled as he gripped the arm of his chair for a moment,
awash in fear and regret. The mage knew (or thought he did); he had learned
the forbidden secrets of the Valossa blasphemy. The heresy held that the
secret of Tinel’s aloofness was not due to the course of human or godly
events. It was madness, pure and bald. Madness that manifested itself as the
so-called Unspeakable One, and this wizard dared mouth the forbidden and
secret heresy here, in the very heart of Kalian’s scriptorium. “That’s mad.”
The Armarius had to buy time.
“Think of this, Dorlion. What if this
Unspeakable One you whisper of was not Tinel, and yet was indeed worshipped
by these Snake People using the same rituals as we use this day. You see
this small piece of the puzzle and assume that Tinel and this, how did you
say it, Yig?, that they are one and the same. But what if this thing was an
uncaring agent from beyond the sphere? What if it hailed from outside, and
had corrupted proper worshippers of the Heavenly Archmage, our lord, Tinel?
What if this Brotherhood of the Yellow Sign was prepared to bring this thing
into our reality, to our sphere, and destroy our world – all the while
hiding behind the guise of proper Tinelite worship?
“Perhaps Tinel did destroy the legendary Valossa – if it ever existed. But
if he did, he only did what he had to. His people had turned away from him
and would doom not only their own decadent empire, but all the world. Tinel
destroyed them. It is this regret that makes him aloof and uncaring. Sorrow
for his lost children, for the evil all races will do in their pursuit of
knowledge unchecked. Be careful you heed this lesson, Dorlion, for I think
there is much for you to learn from it.”
Revered Master Kalian rose and, for a moment, Dorlion though he was actually
going to have to fight the priest in his own scriptorium. Instead, Kalian
turned away from him and poured himself some more tea. “Do you need any more
tea? Telling all of these fantasies must be thirsty work.”
“Yes, I’ll have more. Please.”
Kalian poured once again with a long-honed skill.
“Revered Master, you may be right that Tinel
is not mad.” Dorlion sniffed the tea for a moment and put it down. “However,
I didn’t mention any Cult of the Yellow Sign. I wish that the church would
work toward curing Tinel of his sorrow instead of this ludicrous cover up.”
“Cover up?” Kalian scoffed. “You’re mad! Cover
up indeed.”
“Armarius, I’ve already had to kill Korath to protect the truth… And I’ve
already detected the poison in this tea.”
Kalian raised his hands and called on divine power. But not quickly enough.
Dorlion shook his head sadly. “Revered Master… Kalian… I have already
surpassed the Five in power.” Without moving from his chair, without
whispering or making any movements, the Archmage Dorlion hurled Death Magic
at Kalian and Kalian lacked the power to resist it.
Dorlion rose, turning his gaze to the door – open just a crack. There his
eyes locked with those of a young man who had been watching the entire event
unfold. “Look well on what has happened here, lad. Today the Archmage
Dorlion took the first steps in uncovering the madness of a god! We say we
revere truth, and yet in actuality we hide from it. Tinel is the Unspeakable
One, and I am the prophet and harbinger of his doom!” With that, Dorlion
vanished.
The Neophyte called the guards. When they arrived, they found the young man
cradling the lifeless for of the Armarius, Revered Master Kalian, in his
arms.
The symbols on this page copyright 2002,
Steve Lawton |
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