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The Dreamless
Inetâs court and servants. They are a vast and sprawling information network, seeing and hearing everything. They are seemingly omnipresent, instilling a sense of paranoia as they manipulate and âdissapearâ anyone that gets in their way.
The Order of the Fallen Star
The World Wanderer
A tall, lanky, androgynous figure. They have long, white hair and pale, sickly skin. They have a gray visor obscuring their eyes. It appears to be made from stone.
The Wanderer rarely speaks and when they do, you listen. Forcibly. Their voice is elegant, but haunting. They speak with the wisdom of a thousand lifetimes and the infinite void lying just behind their eyes is powerful enough to destroy any mind.
Many years ago they would been known by their true name, but they wandered so, so far from their home. Where? Inet would never let you know. They are simply the Wanderer now.
The King of Crows
An assembly of crows sharing a singular consciousness. Their swarm is so vast that it can block out the sun and all of their eyes share the same shade of vibrant purple.
The King of Crows speaks through the swarm, their voice coming from every direction at once. They scower the many kingdoms of the world, always watching, always listening, and always rooting up secrets and snuffing out traitors.
The Magistrate
A noblewoman frozen with chilling demeanor. She is brutal, efficient, and cruel. For this reason she oversees the Grand Library and maintains the central hubs of Inetâs rule.
She wears the high regalia of Inetâs former order, though it is not clear is she was ever a member.
Her knowledge of the divine and arcane is nearly unparalleled, save for her master. She carries with her endless tomes and scrolls, and the many odd perculiarities their rituals require, like human hearts, eyes, etc.
Servants
Gatherers
Spindly spirits with pointy ears and eyes that constantly shift colors. They are like large crabs or spiders, scuttling around on the floor, walls, and ceiling.
They are messengers and record keepers, their voice conjuring neon illusions of what has been told to them.
The Lost
Worshipers who have given themselves up to Inet. They are less of people now and more like mindless drones or automatons. They have been blinded by their god and and wear wrappings over their eyes with black dots.
The Lost never speak, though they do have incredible hearing.
They serve as basic attendants and servants, organizing and doing menial tasks for their god in an attempt to understand her true nature.
The Found
Tall, slender beings with similar wrappings to the Lost. They are wrapped in bandages with blue dots. Each dot seems to see, hear, and sense.
The Found have been awoken by Inet and showed the true shape of the world. They have incredibly psychic abilities, as they are able to take people apart piece by piece.
They are also incredibly proficient in telepathy, and it is unwise to lie to them. They always know your true feelings.
The Secret Library
The Marble City, Ashan, was the record keeping city for the land. Itâs great stone halls housed the largest library ever built. A radiant beacon of knowledge.
They kept records of seasons, of crops, of news.
Of inventions and innovations.
Of glory and heroic deeds.
And tragedy. And horrors.
Any piece of information, no matter how small, was fiercely devoured by the cities archivists. And among the stuffy archivists and shut in librarians, there was a rising star.
She was a young woman, in her late 30âs or so. Though she was much younger than the Old Masters, she was nearly surpassing them in acquisition and documentation.
There was something fierce to her. There was a certain curisority, a certain hunger for knowledge that drove her forward. While the Old Masters were content with contemplating and interpreting, the rising star was not. She didnât have the typical reserve associated with her order. Instead, she had a penchant for danger and knack for adventure.
She wished to understand all of existence and she knew it couldnât be done without learning more. The Old Masters were trying to solve a puzzle, but had missing pieces. The young star would seek out those pieces and make her understanding whole.
One day, when pouring through the furthest, deepest reaches of the library, she stumbled upon something dark.
Something lost.
Behind an old bookshelf there was a secret hatch. The rotten wood and musty books gave way to small porthole that descended into darkness.
It was a void, a gaping maw of curiosity that would lure the young seeker to her fate.
She climbed down the dusty, rusted ladder, into the deep. Upon reaching the bottom, she clapped her hands to get a feel for the space, to see how large the room was.
It was cavernous and echoed. Her eyes lit up in excitement.
She rolled up the sleeves of her robes revealing her glistening crystal armlets. Twin snakes wrapped around in coils, with beaming sapphire eyes looking downwards to her wrists.
They were an artifact from an older age, from an age of exploration, an age of daring. When the symbol of the Marble City was the snake, not the sheep.
The young seeker held onto the old armlets and they often served her well.
The twin serpents animated and blinked. They slithered off her arms, falling to the floor with a light ting. They began to emit a silver light as they curved around the floor. Though their illumination was as clear as crystal, there was a deep, heavy darkness just on the horizon. The light only went so far, and once it stopped, the cavernous crypt became abyssal.
She gazed at in awe. This darkness, whatever it was, was much thicker and heavier than mere shadow. The serpents light didnât linger like they normally did, instead stopping, as if hitting a wall.
This darkness was hungry. It was ravenous. It devoured light. Itâs form wasnât just mere absence, it was material. Dark, ghastly mist and black, thick, viscous liquid pooled and swirled at the edges of the light, like wolves circling their prey.
Whatever was in this godforsaken, god abandoned land, it was powerful. It was to be feared.
It was to be discovered.
She hungrily ripped the books from the wall, eager to find what they hid.
Line after line,
Page after page,
Book after book.
She took it all in in the same way a man dying of thirst drinks from a fresh stream.
She heard stories of conspiracies and treachery, of tragedy and loss.
Shelf after shelf,
Bookcase after bookcase,
Hall after hall.
She kept climbing back down into that dark place, the place where bad memories go to die, day after day, night after night.
Her curiosity quickly became obsession. She spent more time in that accursed library than above ground. She shrugged off duties and skipped meals.
She learned about all the wrongs of the world.
Mass executions, slaughters.
Mysteries and shocking revelations.
There, in that deep dark place, she learned things she never wanted to.
She unlocked the great and terrible truth of the world.
And it was at that point that she learned why this knowledge was sealed off and forgotten, because the world must never learn of these things.
It could not be permitted.
The very fabric of society, the very meaning of life, all the precious truths humans held dear could be unravelled if they learned what was down there. These books werenât just answers to questions, but the answers to questions nobody even got close to.
Why humans suffer.
Why the world is the way it is.
Why gods are born.
So she did the only thing she could think to do.
She burned it all.
All of it.
Not a single blasted scrap would be left.
Those books, those terrible, accursed, tomes, had to be destroyed.
So, on her final night, she took a lantern and slowly, book by book, she burned the pages away in a small fire. She had to make sure nothing was left. Carefully, and meticulously, she destroyed the entire library.
Time began to wane. Hours bled together, night and day were one in the same thing.
After an eternity of burning, of destroying, she saw that her work was complete.
Nobody would ever know of the horrors that hid just beyond the periphery.
She climbed up the rickety old ladder up to the rest of the world. Brilliant light shined down into the darkness, revealing only a grand room of empty bookshelves and ash.
Inet, the Grand Seeker, saw too much. She peeked too far behind the curtain.
And she was going to put all of that hideous knowledge to use.
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The Secret Library
The Marble City, Ashan, was the record keeping city for the land. Itâs great stone halls housed the largest library ever built. A radiant beacon of knowledge.
They kept records of seasons, of crops, of news.
Of inventions and innovations.
Of glory and heroic deeds.
And tragedy. And horrors.
Any piece of information, no matter how small, was fiercely devoured by the cities archivists. And among the stuffy archivists and shut in librarians, there was a rising star.
She was a young woman, in her late 30âs or so. Though she was much younger than the Old Masters, she was nearly surpassing them in acquisition and documentation.
There was something fierce to her. There was a certain curiosity, a certain hunger for knowledge that drove her forward. While the Old Masters were content with contemplating and interpreting, the rising star was not. She didnât have the typical reserve associated with her order. Instead, she had a penchant for danger and knack for adventure.
Lady Inet, Grand Seeker
Goddess of knowledge, stories, and ignorance. Sheâs a burning library and the thing you canât quite remember. Sheâs the feeling of loss, like something was taken, but you donât know what.
Traits: Short silver hair and pointed crystal nails. Crystal orbs orbit her
Motifs: Snakes, cloaks, crystal
Colors: Lighter shades of blue, reflective and iridescent crystal, white, gray
Personality: Hellbent on seeking all there is to know, Inet scours the globe to find all that she can. Though she doesnât care for studying or organizing or record keeping due to perfect memory, she does keep grand libraries that house the massive volumes of âscrapsâ and âloose endsâ.Â
Sheâs known for destroying many of her sources once sheâs done with them. She devours knowledge, thriving off of it. Sheâs perceptive, seeing and hearing nearly anything she focuses on. She is also known for being clairvoyant, simply knowing what will happen before it does. As a result, she is incredibly paranoid and vigilant, always guarding what she knows. In truth, she is not able to properly
Relationship with the others: Sheâs a loner as far as the main pantheon goes, always keeping her followers and servants in the dark. She doesnât talk much and is rarely even in the same room as others, instead using illusions. Her incredible intelligence and withdrawn attitude has allowed her to more or less casually tell off or sarcastically insult her fellow gods without consequence. Sheâs right and they all know it.
Their rule: Inetâs incredible intelligence mixed with her paranoia and spitefulness has resulted in any defiance against her being put down before it could truly start. People were slain simply for thinking negatively of her for too long.
Their court: Her court is otherworldly, eldritch and utterly detached from reality. They are by far the most inhuman. Her court are her eyes and ears, the many hands in which to pull the strings.
Notable crimes: Restricting education and advancement for cultures she doesnât like, ie burning invaluable historical books, stealing their libraries, etc. She once made an entire city disappear without a trace.
Home: A near-infinite teleporting library with columns of solid crystal and walls lined with scrolls. Itâs said that the interior is much more vast than what it looks like from outside, but thatâs difficult to confirm as the crystalline doors have been forever closed to any mortal.
Origin
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- - -
Vel - Arlana - Ko - Kaetal - Sha
The Sovereigns know all
As gods, their domains are parts of them. They can hear and see and feel what goes on around them, using their domain as microphones and cameras
- - -
Sha: the clinking of coins, the chirping of birds. What happens under the mid day sun. The sound of paint brushing and stone being chiseled and metal being worked
Arlana: the buzzing of bees, the warm breaths and sighs. What occurs by candlelight or lanterns. Laughter and singing. Everything done in the heat of the moment
Vel: the cold glares, the cool breeze. The cracking of ice. All crowns and rings. What happens under the full and new moons
Kaetal: ragged breath and clashing steel. The thunder and pouring rain. Everything done with a racing heartbeat and said through gritted teeth
Ko: the quiet judgments, the rejections. The thorn bushes and what they cut or pierce. The rustling of leaves. The darkness of the forest
Inet: the hushed whispers, the turning of pages. The thoughts and memories you forgot. The tall grass and everything done alone