For years, Syfos slowly rolled around the streets of Siktun, and through the tunnels surrounding it - all the while accompanied by great crowds of tiktik and humans, and even some Kautaila, and people from even further afield. Wherever it went, and endless festival followed, and it would not have been wrong to say the incessant adoration somewhat went to Syfos' head (had it had one).

But not even Syfos' own enjoyment could hold it up indefinitely, and eventually the stone passed out of the urbanized areas, into the wild underground. Here only the most dedicated fans followed it, but it remained a great group. And though its songs attracted many predators during the long and slow journey, they too were pacified by them and none in the entourage was harmed. The passage through these lands took years, and many went home eventually, though some new people joined too - both those tracking after them from behind, and the occasional group of Ayidyid living beyond the frontier of civilization. Still, it was a slowly shrinking group, and they only numbered in their hundreds when they at last reached their destination.

In the dark depths of the underworld, not far from the place where Aelmd bridges the barrier of the ground, there stands a great gate. It is made of unmarked black basalt, and stands eternally open, but only few find their way here - and those that do know not to abuse its inhabitant's hospitality. This is where Syfos travelled, and this is where its entourage followed, and when they crossed the threshold, they were welcomed, like many before them, into Erland's wondrous halls. They were served a meal fit for queens, and permitted to listen as Syfos recounted all of its adventures and all the parts of the world it had visited. And it was a song that surpassed any Syfos had sung before; transcendant and beautiful beyond compare - and all that listened, though they did not know the tongue of stones, felt they profoundly understood it.

And Erland was pleased, and welcomed Syfos deeper into his realm, those warm depths of the earth it had not known since the cruel whim of a Giant had tore it up through the cool ocean. But its followers were not permitted to accompany it, and were instead turned back, to return to the lands of mortals.

Though many were disappointed that their journey was at an end, they returned with a great deal of knowledge of the world, and a deep understanding of the power of the gods. And though many had before circadians, or celebrants, or traveller-worshippers, or followed some other faith, when they returned they all were devoted to the Stone Muse and the Fire Within the Earth.

As they told everyone of their journey, many repeated their pilgrimage, and though many never found it Erland was visited by a great many people in the following years. As ever, the god of hospitality invited every visitor to a meal at least once, though they were never permitted to stay for long, and only those deemed exceptional were welcomed back for a second time.

Hamtari is that peninsula in eastern Incarien BTW.

On the surface, word of the divine halls, so close beneath them quickly spread across all the plains of Nak. As they heard this, and knew part of their ancient secret had been exposed, the venerable Potters' Guild called to a grand meeting in Unimaa. A great number of people from all the settlements in the area came there; they were glass-workers and bankers, farmers and traders, miners and politicians, soldiers and priests. Most were humans, but many hewn also appeared, and even quite a few Tiktik. Only a select few knew the deepest secrets, and many were even unaware of the connection to Erland, but at this great meeting, they all gathered to discuss the future of the Guild.

In fact, there were two meetings taking place at once; the great public one, helped along with plenty of food and drink, and the small secret one, with cool sobriety. But as the mood of the grand festivities turn to universal brotherhood and peace between cities, the secret council of Grandmasters too determines that the time is right to use their considerable influence to promote such unity, and egg them on, and they intimated to key people how they could be helpful in bringing this glorious future about. Thus, when the revelry was over, and the members retrned home, many were carrying instructions, and over the next few years, they each played their small part in aligning the cities of east Incarien economically, militarily, and politically.

War... Never Changes

As the Tiktik adapt to the dancing plague, both by travelling less and by learning how to keep safe, the earworm declines. Without victims, it can only echo so long through the empty tunnels before ringing out, and from the early 930s , the underworld is again mostly safe to traverse (as much as that was ever the case). With this, the Tiktik again grow more daring in their expeditions, and the interrupted wars resume.

The decades of peace, while mostly cutting off communications and trade within the underworld, have allowed the cities to recover, rebuild, and entrench themselves. With the establishment of its surface colonies, Chivik has gotten unprecedented access to the materials and technologies of above. First and foremost this means wood, which sees much use in construction and furniture, due to its light weight and ease of working. Some attempts are made to use it for light-weight pikes, but is mostly too expensive to be used for military purposes. The one exeption to this is projectile weapons. Previously unheard of in the tiktik arsenal, arbalests, capable of piercing both steel and shell, quickly find their place in Chiviks armies, and help them win early victories, once again securing core parts of the empire. But while the other powers lack access to wood, they quickly adapt the technology to traditional underworld materials, and before long Chivik too uses steel arbalests.

But the new military technologies do not in the end help decisively turn the tide one way or the other. By 940 RIQ the frontlines have mostly stabilized, with Chivik only retaining (and strengthening) control of its three closest vassals. Though fighting remains hard on Chivik's eastern and western flanks, the south and north have cooled into unofficial ceasefires.

Give Peace A Chance

One reason the northern theatre in particular sees little action, is that Siktun's attention is focused much more on the surface. For decades, that is where its traders have gone for wealth, where its diplomats have gone for allies, and where its excess population has gone for land. Its people also follow a circadian faith, and worship the sun and moon, and so have little interest in the underworld beyond their own twilit corner.

The human settlements nearby were intitially wary of the new neighbours, but in the days when Kǎlkayer yet terrorized the land, any protection was appreciated, and so many of the inland towns turned to Siktun for aid and leadership. In the decades since then, the danger from the sea has been defeated, and the resurgent Wera has made some discontented noises about its former territory. In these years, the tensions come to a head, and war seems to be imminent, so in a desperate last attempt to broker a lasting peace, the Siktuntun invite the Werans to a conference near the edge of the pit, with Unimaa as impartial guarantor.

Initially, negototiations go poorly; the Werans are as irredentist as ever, while the Siktuntun's suggestion of some minor/symbolic monetary compensation is taken more as an insult. Only the influence of Unimaa's representative, who seeks to secure peace on Incarien due to worries about wars overseas, keeps the entire thing from falling apart. Still, the conference is at a deadlock, and seems unable to break it, until strange news interrupt the proceedings.

From across the river Kalaree, they hear, a mystical phenomenon has come; a stone, that somehow moves, and seems to sing - in the most breathtakingly beautiful tones. The well-traveled representative of Unimaa knowingly identifies this as a rock from Baled, but is unsure what it may do there. In the hope that a diversion might breathe new life into the conference, he suggests that they all go and see this curiosity.

And his plan would succeed beyond his wildest imagination, for when the diplomats arrived at Syfos, they were struck deeply by its songs, and as they followed it, they all recognized it as a divine sign that harmony should reign between their peoples, and they quickly drew up an accord that would bring them all together in defense of one another, and prevent conflicts between them.

Brand

How do you find someone who can charm people into keeping them hidden? How do you capture someone that can read your thoughts, and knows you are coming? How do you fight someone that can control your thoughts? These and many others were the problems the Tarbra witchhunters faced, as they attempted to purge the Mera from their lands. And though they initially often met with defeat, over the decades they developed tactics and techniques, and became increasingly effective.

On the matter of cutting away their support, the solution was simple, but harsh: anyone aiding a psykik would share their punishment - regardless of whether it was done willingly or under compulsion. At first this decree was met with horror by many clans, but the witchhunters carried it out ruthlessly, and the Tarbra of the foothills at the border learned in time to regard any stranger with deep suspicion, lest they cause disaster for the entire clan.

Defences against psykiks are more complex, but a range of countermeasures are invented. The most popular of these is the application of fire (or at least heat). It is thought that branding yourself with certain sacred symbols protects against the wicked influence of Psyk, and because of this practise, the Witchhunters are also commonly called the Branded. (whether this method really works, or whether it is simply the case that the fanaticism and determination necessary to go through with it also makes psykik intervention more difficult has not yet been scientifically determined).

Burn

As the northern lands become more and more thouroughly cleansed from psykiks, the Burned turn their attention increasingly toward the south, and their ultimate goal: the complete extermination of the Mera. Larger and larger raids are launched, but still mostly retreat before the defensive forces of Lach Lero. But they scout the area well, and learn from afar the layout of the city, as well as its approaches.

One spring, the elders at Lach Heral determine the time to be ready, they call together a vast host from all across the lands, and sent them off to complete the task.

The army was led by Branded Feran, of the Hungry Wragh clan, who was a most accomplished witchhunter, and utterly devoted to the cause. She had participated in the capture of many psykiks, led dozens of raiding bands throughout the south, and covered her hide with every sigil known to Tarbra-kind. Under her leadership, the army passed through the mountains and plains unnoticed, and it was only when they had nearly arrived at the cursed magenta lands themselves that the Mera first raised alarm.

And while the Mera reacted in a quick and coordinated manner, it was too late. The troops they could muster were outnumbered, outarmed, and most crucially inhibited by their love for the enemy, and a great reluctance to harm them. Feran's forces felt no such compunctions. First they slew the forces that met them in the field, and dismembered their corpses, and fed them to the fire. Then they arrived at the walls of Lach Lero, which they had never before succesfully assaulted. But while the defences were strong, the defenders were not, and with stepladders and volleys of javelins, they conquered the walls.

With the walls taken, and the population trapped inside, Branded Feran commanded the city be burnt, and from this day, Lach Lero was no more.

Ruin

But though it was a great victory for the Branded, it was not a complete one. As the fires raged in the streets of Lach Lero, the heat made the crystal pillars of the city crack, and the psykik leakage combined with the despair of its people, and soon Lach Lero was not only consumed by a firestorm, but also by a psykik maelstrom. Now, many Branded fell, overwhelmed by the mind-wrecking tempest, and many troops retreated, leaving segments of the wall unguarded. So it came that some Mera escaped the city, though none did so unscathed.

But contrary to their nature, the Mera scattered to the wind, and though the branded were experienced hunters, they could not catch them all in time. As it happened, some missionaries from the Dominion were at that time present in the south, and when they learned of the horrors wrought by the Branded, they took in the Mera, and sailed away. Their pursuers, knowing little of watercraft, could only watch them escape, and call down bitter curses on their new enemies.

The Mera were thus driven from their land, but the land remained unwilling to bow before the Branded's wishes. Even when the fires in Lach Lero died, the psykik storm raged on, and though it would abate over time, it never quite disappeared, and could go quickly from lull to roar. And though they would burn the grasslands, time and again, it would always regrow magenta.

With the conquest of Viidako, Chivik's appetite for the surface has truly only been whetted. Surface goods flow like never before into Chivik, and the constant flow of emigrants lessens the recurring food-shortages. To secure the city, and enable further conquests, a new army is raised. Like the main army of Chivik, this force is based on mobilizing the resident clans, and remains a Tiktik only force (though others, primarily humans, are sometimes recruited as scouts and guides).

The terrain of Valerië is very treacherous, with deep jungles, and deadly wildlife, and the Chivikvik quickly determine that the best approach to minimize these dangers is to mirror the age old strategy of the empire in the underworld: fortify, expand, control. Thus, the surface army is specialized in sapping, and capable of quickly constructing fortifications, digging out vast tunnel networks, or clearing paths through the thickest jungle.

Continuous improvements are made on the earthworks of Viidako, and outlying forts and watchposts constructed. The military command further promotes the deforestation of surrounding areas, both to increase visibility, and enable faster movement. Thus, the frontier of the secured area is constantly being pushed further inland, and Chivik's grasp on Valerië tightens.

On its continued journey east, Syfos comes across a land twice devastated, first by the rising tide of Kǎlkayer, then by the Noble Poison. Everywhere the ruins that have been made of the Deep One's plans can be seen: rotting algae in a lifeless land.

But as Syfos passes through this desolation, its songs rejuvenates it, and reawakens the dormant spirits of the land. Hidden seeds blossom, algae twist and turn into something akin to trees, and animals return from where they had retreated further inland, or crawl up from the sea.

When the lost theologians began exploring the house within the house, they were mostly interested in metaphysical and philosophical discoveries. But as word of this strange dimension spread, some more practically-minded Págar tried to access it, too. They were initially unsuccessful, as that mystic phenomenon is most resistant to those who would explore it with a too materialistic purpose.

But persistence and genius will have their rewards, and after centuries of experiments, the polymath Kern manages to construct an arcane device which allows him to send a signal, through the house within, to another colleague, despite neither being able to access it normally. The first message is short, only a single symbol, but it is instantaneous, regardless of physical distance, and after the first successful attempt, improvements are quick.

In the underworld, the dancing plague rages on. By now, most Tiktik know the techniques to prevent it, and it is once again becoming possible to travel somewhat safely, but the Earworm still echoes throughout many tunnels, sometimes in new and more insidious variants, and few are willing to risk it.

Thus, the Royal Council in Chivik find themselves unable to strike at any of their rebellious vassals, and the newly independent states have a grace period to fortify, and prepare.

But for Chivik, this delay is a continuation of the crisis. Without the tributes, the population is still starving, and very discontent, and it is vitally important to find some new place capable of supporting them, or at the very least a new enemy to direct their ire toward.

Diving Greedily, and Deep

The first is accomplished by resettling part of the population further into the abyssal oceans deepest underground, in a new city called Tukat. This is not particularly popular, because even if there is no Plague there, the underseas are far from safe, and an unpleasant place to live. Nevertheless, it relieves the population pressure in Chivik somewhat, and establishes some further control over the deepest Abyss.

Crucial for this control is of course also Chivik's navy. It regularly patrols the depths, but also explores the upper reaches of the Abyss, and once rsurfacing, takes to aurreptitiously scouting the nearby waters and shorelines.

Word has of course reached Chivik of Siktuns great tunnel upwards, and the political classes are very worried about what a rival power might be able to do with unfettered access to the surface - whether that be trade, conquest, or alliances, it does not bode well for Chivik.

Rising to the Opportunity

So when the opportunity to make a play for the sueface seems to simply fall in their lap, the Council is not slow to act: They gather most of the navy, outfit the marines with new weapons, and send them out with orders to take control of a surface port.

Which specific port to choose is not an easy choice. Scouting has exclusively been done from a distance, and from beneath the water, which limits the amount of inteligence the navy has been able to gather. Unimaa is interesting, as the many ships going there clearly point to it being a major hub, and probably very rich. But it is perhaps too central - the navy strategists worry that they'll accidentally begin a major war, against powers they don't really know anything about, and caution bids them at least establish some first base of operation, before striking here. Wera is also briefly considered, but the waters here are infested with algaekin, and while a convoy of submarines can usually fight off any probing attempts at sinking them, it is not an entirely sure thing, and would not make for a safe supply line. The option finally chosen is Viidako. It is smaller than the other two, and has a somewhat difficult approach, but it seems to be somewhat isolated and cut off from reinforcements, and is also the closest major settlement to Chivik and the southern Abyss.

Thus decided, preparations are swift, and soon a force of hundreds of ships, each crewed by hundreds of tiktik wait in the waters outside Viidako. Though they are unaware of the recent political developments on land, the chivikvik do notice the fleet, and the great beasts swimming in the bay, and make their final approach with utmost stealth.

And so they are able to surprise the defenders, striking up at the ships from below in the middle of night, quickly sinking many, and simultaneously unloading masses of marines on the docks, for a coordinated lightning strike.

But normal tactics do not work in such circumstances and it turns out to be very difficult to deal with the falsuk, so the attack does not achieve an instantaneous overwhelming victory. Instead, the local governor has time to wake up and assess the situation. At this point the Chivikvik control most of the shoreline, and begin assembling in phalanges, capable of fully utilizing their numerical advantage, and the governor makes the prudent decision to withdraw rather than risk complete disaster.

The retreat is successful: apart from the ships, which must be left behind, the occupation force is able to escape mostly intact, and begin the harrowing journey overland to Qattangu to report the news.

Here to Stay

But while the tiktik are unwilling to give chase, and thus do not achieve a total victory, they are very pleased with the results. At dawn, the city is completely under their control, and they quickly begin the work of making that permanent. First, the commanders in charge of the invasision force seeks out the civilian leadership to work out a base for a new government. This turns out somewhat difficult, as neither side has ever heard the other's language. But after a while, a Págur can be found who speaks the tongue of the Ataila, which a few Tiktik are also familiar with, and through this interpreter an understanding can be reached.

The Chivikvik quickly pick up the split between the Qurri, who are loyal to Qattangu and Kilkinaqa, and the old elites who have been sidelined these past years. The commanders realize this is a perfect chance to secure the cooperation of the locals, and after a lengthy negotiation they come to a fairly generous agreement, where the old establishment is returned to power over most civilian matters, provided they swear fealty to Chivik and the Queen, and only have to pay the taxes necessary to support the forces stationed there.

Simultaneously, the soldiers begin building large fortifications around the city. The situation is quite different from anything they are used to, both in environment, threats, and materials, but they manage to construsmct an impressive ring of earthworks, topped by palisades, and even secure the sea approach by constructing artificial reefs.

The garrison itself is dug out of a cliff next to the sea, with entrances underwater and into the city, providing a second layer of defenses, as well as an escape route, if necessary.

When word of this victory reaches Chivik, grand celebrations are held, and soon many worker clans migrate to the surface, mainly to work in the logging industry, which takes up speed again, and puts Viidako back on the trade map. But many other traditional crafts are also brought to the surface, creating something of a cultural melting pot, blending different styles and materials. This is felt nowhere more keenly than in the cuisine of Viidako, which combines the culinary ingenuity of the Tiktik, with the plentiful and exotic ingredients of Valerië.

Initially, the inhabitants of the city are very happy with all these developments, and quite positive to Chivik rule, as the hated occupiers were ousted, replaced by a much more distant and indirect overlord, and the economy is doing well again.

These forests are dark and foggy, and most who see them will wisely decide against entering, sensing them as a dangerous and untamed land. And the first part of that is certainly true: they are deeply dangerous, and most who actually dare enter quickly leave again, or never return at all. Not only do the giant trees and thick layer of brambles fairly effectively hinder the way, and the fog and leaves the sight, but all manner of deadly creatures hide out of sight - from snakes tripping and trapping the unaware, blood-sucking frogs appearing at night, and carnivorous horses charging across trunks and branches, to venomous bats falling upon larger prey in packs, and eusocial leafcutter wasps remodelling the foliage behind you. And if you should survive all active dangers, make sure not to make camp under any of the trees dropping razor-sharp needles, or releasing toxic fog, and whatever you do, do not get tempted to eat anything that grows there.

The famous Págur geographer Stura, in her seminal work Incarien, in excruciating detail, describes the area as "thoroughly unpleasant" and recommends travel there only to those "with a zoological curiosity bordering on the suicidal".

But if the Laasera seem almost perfectly designed to repel interlopers, that is because they are. The jungles were first planted by Valerië, and purposefully shaped by the Ataila over the ages since.

After the fall on Etevaasin, most surviving Ataila fled, but a few of the forestkeepers staid behind. They retreated back further into their jungles, and turned the already hostile woods into truly impenetrable defenses. Even though centuries have passed, they are still very few in number - both due to a naturally slow reproduction, but also because the traumatized survivors are reluctant to bring new Ataila into this hostile world. Thus, only some hundred total live here, and mostly in very small isolated groups, keeping alive the memories of the memories of those they lost, and relentlessly patrolling their respective territories.

Any foe not immediately killed or driven off by the unnatural environment is intensely observed. Mostly it is ohmlings who are dumb, tough, and lucky enough to penetrate beyond the first layer of the jungle, and these are attacked and slain with extreme prejudice. But the occasional foolhardy human, curious windborn, determined Págur, or desperate Kautai that might appear are only a little less likely to meet a lethal welcome.

So this is where Syfos went. It rolled across roots effortlessly, passed through thickets without a scratched, and mostly elicited confusion from the animal life.

The Forest Wardens, or Smoke Warriors, have mastered the environment completely, carefully cultivated an orchard of poisonous fruits and flowers, and bred the deadliest creatures imaginable to help them defend it. They use mainly ranged weapons and traps, and have mastered the smokeless fire and the fireless smoke, and though they left most comforts of civilization behind, they don't struggle overmuch, as they know all the secrets to surviving in the Laasera. They rarely let anyone see them, and never leave the jungles they call home, but some rumours have spread of deadly warriors, luring explorers into traps, attacking from the cover of leaves or smoke, using every exotic poison available in the most sadistic combinations possible, showing no mercy and taking no prisoners, and probably eating the flesh of the slain.

And the Ataila too were confused, but mostly suspicious and afraid. This stone was clearly a being of immense mystical power. Though perhaps not as physically imposing, strong, or existentially horrifying as Ohm, it emanated a clear aura of divine energy, and the Ataila dared not act directly against it.

But as Syfos ignored any attempt to subtly steer it away, or block its way, yet showed no wign of aggression, the watchers grew more curious, and less fearful. More and more of the scattered families gathered around Syfos' slow, but inexorable, journey through their woods. And the songs it sang reminded them of Tehwatzin, and the old Ataila who had lost loved ones to the Worm felt some small part of their memories returning - not all their names and faces and personalities, but small things, like their laughter, or the sun sparkling in their eyes.

The regaining of memories was not happy, but it was perhaps a little cathartic: a small part of what was missing had been returned. Much more remained lost, but at least the long scabbed over wounds could begin healing.

So for all the Ataila never felt comfortable enough around Syfos to leave the cover of the trees and approach it, they did grow to somewhat appreciate its presence, and when it at last reached the other side of the Laasera, they were, for the first time, unhappy to see an outsider leave.

[turn 16: (2+3)+(5+3) = 13, 13-3=10]

In the southwest of the underworld lies a long neglected tunnel, narrow and winding, going far beyond the reach of any states and unmapped by explorers. In the chaos of the great war many Tiktik flee here, some in a circadian search for salvation, and but most simply taking shelter.

But the most eager among them go to far, and these tiktik hear an accursed rhythm. The rhythm burrows into their minds, and takes control of their limbs until all they do is tap their feet, while slowly starving ti death, in a horrific mockery of the feastday dances much beloved by the Tiktik.

The acoustics of the underworld is strange and an echo can carry many leagues, so soon vast stretches of the underworld is beset by the Earworm called the Dancing Plague. Its results are unpredictable; sometimes a victim can shake it off with no more effects than a few irregular spasms, sometimes just the whisper of an echo in the distance is enough to render an entire caravan mortally afflicted. To protect themselves, cities start placing loud bells, drums, trumpets, and other noise-makers on their walls and outskirts, to deafen out any malicious echoes, and travelers cover their ears with layers upon layers of protective fabric.

The Empire Is Struck Back

Sensing the weakness of Chivik, the long-suffering tribes closest to the see the time is right to retailiate for the many historic mistreatments andhumiliations. At first they simply participate on the side of rebels as mercenaries, or engage in banditry, but the charismatic brother of the Kilklak matriarch fosters personal relationships with the leaders of many other clans and tribes, and promotes a branch of the circadian cult that yearns for a return to the "good old days" when all tiktik lived in tribes, and there were no decadent city-dwellers. With a combination of traditional personalistic alliances and a formalized priesthood connecting the tribes, he manages to unite most of them in a grand confoederation. The Confoederation of Free Tribes raises a vast army, and manages to defeat what arnies Chivik can bring to bear, and capture the city of Tranos, which had long been a thorn in their side. The city is promptly renamed Kilklak, but it is mainly used as a garrison, with only little civilian activity; a base of operations for further attacks eastward. The confoederation is led by an agreed-upon Matriarch (often from the Kilklak clan) but her prime councillor is always the high priest, and a very conservative agenda tends to dominate the political programme.

The Second One True Empire

Tanmak also sees the scattered Royal armies and the long response times and mobilizes its population. A quick march takes them to the relatively undefended eastern edge of Retvik. The Retvikvik are convinced that their interests are better served by submitting to the Empress of Tanmak, and the fledgling empire gains control of this most vital chokepoint without a fight, securing the entirety of the east. The Empress declares herself the rightful sovereign of the entire world, though in practice that only means Tanmak is now truly independent. A variant of circadianism is established as state religion, centering on the empress dynasty as a manifestation of eternal renewal, and the holy land of Erjul, as a place where the sunlight spills into the underworld and many pilgrims go there to bathe in the waters that carry the light, though it is a very dangerous excursion to any that need to breathe.

Rebel rebel

Syfos left Tuula in secrecy, pursued by enemies and admirers both. It passed through Ker Atel and the Opal city both, and held extraordinary performances which would spread its name both east and west. It joined in with the Night-Singers moonlit choirs, who would carry its tunes forevermore. Entrepreneurial humans followed it and sold food, drink, and memorabelia to those who came to listen. Págar geologists measured it any way they could, and correctly determined its origin in Baled, but could make no sense of how it might produce such wonderful music.

All in all, it was a pleasant journey through the Tweenlands, both for Syfos and for its inhabitants, but an unstoppable force definitionally stops for nothing, and so Syfos continued onwards. It travelled over mountains, and through rivers, across fields, and past settlements, until at last it reached the place where in ancient times the first house of the Ataila stood.

When Syfos reached what was once Etevaasin, only few traces of that great city remained. The city itself had been thouroughly destroyed by the Velarië's star, and most recognizable remains had long since been looted, defaced, or simply reclaimed by nature.

But they were not uninhabited, for though Ohmlings had spread out into nearly every corner of the world, some had staid here, and they had prospered. They had settled in that devastated crater while it was still hot from Ängiläimö's blaze, and lived mainly off fishing the river and eating whatever plants were hardy enough to take root in the molten soil. Their settlements were mainly clustered around the old city's core, where they scrabbled through the dirt, eager for relics beyond their ken. Ohm, the First Half of Perfection, ruled here when Syfos came and the stone was given an uncommonly curteous welcome. The little rock had met many Ohmlings in its travels, and a great number of them had tried to eat it - invariably with ill results. Most of the rest had tried to imitate its songs - also nearly always with ill results, though not necessarily fatal ones.

But in this place, Ohmlings had learned to exhibit some caution when encountering unknown mystic objects, for there were still small shards of starfire buried in the land, which might easily spark to life if handled carelessly, as well as many strange artifacts - most to broken to be of any use whatsoever, but some still seeming to hold on to their power.

So the Ohmlings here were cautious, and only poked Syfos with sticks from a safe (probably) distance.

But while Syfos did find this behaviour very curious, it was much much more curious by another thing it sensed here: in a space beside space, there was another city here. Unlike the huts and hovels of the Ohmlings, it was a magnificent town, with great buildings of shining metal and glass, and terrace gardens covered in lush fruit trees of unimaginable variety, and great boulevards with mechanical carriages, and starlight illuminating the streets, and countless other wonders. And it was populated with Ataila, an uncountable number of them, going about their business and living their evidently very pleasant lives - surely more than had ever existed in Tehwatzin of old, or even the entire world. It was in short, the city Tehwatzin was never allowed to become, due to the cruel vagaries of fate.

But since Syfos was a clever stone, and can see past not only dimensional barriers, but also appearances, it soon realized what this phantasmal city was in truth: A mirage, created from the innards of a would-be-god. When the falling star struck Ohm, it released not only the physical matter of the Worm, which became the Ohmlings, but also some remnants of the spiritual energies it had consumed. Not truly the souls of those eaten, but a mixture of their half-disolved memories, dreams, and wishes. Released back into the world, but with no where to go, these settled into the crater, and formed into a pocket dimension of sorts - a dream, of what might have been if reality had not turned into a nightmare.

And in the centuries that had followed, this dream had continued on, and it had developed, fed by the fanciful hopes that built it, and the imaginary city had grown and prospered.

And this was what Syfos found, a city beyond the edge of the real world, which existed only in its own bubble - insofar it could be said to exist at all.

And so Syfos did what it did best, it sang; And the imaginary Ataila of the imaginary city heard it, and were brought closer to the real world. At first they could only hear the impossibly beautiful melodies, appearing to come out of nowhere. But then other sounds carried over, and smells, and sights. The inhabitants of the Imaginary City, knowing nothing of the real world, or of their own unreality, were first delighted but confused, then concerned, and then dismayed, as they perceived more and more of the true world. The Ohmlings too were quite affrighted, as they had never before known of the Imaginary City, more than the gentlest touch upon their dreaming minds. The inhabitants of the different worlds could now see each other, though only ephemerally, as if spectres, and their words too sounded strangely distorted, and as if from far away. Smells too passed through, though the imaginary Ataila might have preferred if they didn't, and when passing through space where something existed in the other world, you might perceive something that was not quite tactile, but almost.

But before the two worlds were quite close enough to touch, Syfos stopped singing, and went on its way onwards - and that was surely a good thing, as it would have likely popped the bubble of unreality and destroyed the Imaginary City and all its Imaginary People.

So the Imaginary City remained in a state where it can be seen and heard and smelt - sometimes more clearly, sometimes less - and eventually the Ohmlings realized they could not bite the Imaginary Ataila, or take their stuff, and instead started asking for advice or aid, and though the Imaginary Citizens were quite sceptical and cautious what information they permitted access to, the inhabitants of the crater city did learn much, and it grew fabulously wealthy and advanced - by Ohmling standards.

The appearance of the Mera challenge the traditional order of things in many ways: They dismantle their own clans and seduce the foolish youth of the north with utopian promises. They read the minds of others, and sometimes even overwrite them. They proliferate the mutations of their own flesh and that of their beasts. They build a united polity, stronger than any in the north, and rivalling established centres of power in influence.

The elders at Lach Heral, watch all these developments with growing worry, and debate long into the nights what can be done about them. As Lach Lero gains ever more footholds north of the mountains, and more and more tales of rogue psykiks reach their ears, they eventually come to a consensus: The Mera are an existential threat, and must be completely annihilated.

A proclamation is made, and promulgated amongst the clans. Those furthest away, where only vaguest rumours of the Mera have yet to reach mostly dismiss the fearmongering, more concerned with the constant conflicts with the Ohmlings, but many nearby share the worries of the fire-tenders, and readily agree to help them contain the Mera.

In the years that follow, a loosely coordinated campaign of persecution and militarization begins: Missionaries are turned away or slain; psykiks are hunted relentlessly, and any clans that took them in watched suspiciously; Tarbra with visible mutations or deviations are shunned or killed, depending on the severity; and any trace of accursed magenta is fed to the purifying flames.

Saksnes is another expansion in the east. Tanmak's position grows ever stronger, and it has started openly making independent policy decisions, for itself, and for other cities, and going against commands from the capital. Tanmak's ruler has even taken to calling herself Empress [translator's note, there is no historical baggage, or any formal hierarchy of titles here, but empress certainly sounds like a fancier title than queen, and does imply sovereignty. literal translation might be something like "supreme hereditary appointed ruler of multiple cities"]. But the tributes still flow, as Chivik's military might remains supreme and the crucial chokepoint of Retvik remains in loyalist hands.

Siktun is an overseas colony, budded off from Chital. Like Chital it is based on fishing and aquaculture, but unlike Chital it is far away from Chivik, and definitely an encroachment on traditional tribal lands. It is also worryingly close to the northern trade route with the Memnarks, and there has been repeated attacks here. It is difficult for Chivik's armies to get here fast, and while the local garrison is large enough to hold the city and some key outposts, it cannot permanently crush all the opposition.

But Syfos made its way inland, and eventually it reached the mountains, and the kingdom of Uukolo. There was immediately a great commotion, for neither Durra nor Titan had ever seen or heard something quite like this, and as they recognized a powerful spirit of the earth, they respectfully welcomed Syfos and eagerly listened to its melodies.

Syfos was not swayed by their gifts, nor slowed by their hospitality, but it was secretly pleased by the friendly reception, and so it sang its very best and most beautiful songs, as it rolled along Ullustiru's shores and through the villages and towns of the valleys. And when it left Uukolo, it had gathered a crowd of hangers-on, so enamoured that they followed the stone down into the lowlands.

In Lanai, Durra are not entirely welcome, for while it is known that they have sworn off blood and warfare, the Usfir remember their origin as raiders, and know that prolonged absence from the thirst-quenching waters of Ullustiru will re-awaken in them that ancestral need for blood. Still, many were the Durra that followed Syfos down from the mountains, and though they were first met with suspicion and weapons in hand, the miracle of the singing stone quickly overcame most who would bar their way.

There are many tales of this tour through Lanai, for every village has its own story and songs that (suposedly) originate from then, and it is said that when Syfos serenaded Thorfuintir, the sun itself stopped longer at the horizon than it should, and the evening was as long as it was unforgettable. All the while, as it passed through those lands, some Durra returned home, lest they be overcome by their thirst - but many remained with the entourage, and for every one that left, three or more of the Usfir joined, and so the crowd constantly grew.

As they went ever eastward, and as the rumours spread like a wildfire, they were soon expected wherever they went. At first this meant prepared welcomes, great feast and festivals. As they came ever closer to the eastern edge of Lanai, it increasingly meant raids and ambushes from the Dzadek. But despite gentle coaxing, and attempts at diverting its path, Syfos was inexorable, and eastward they went, though many turned home as the journey grew more dangerous with every step.

And they were indeed wise to do so, for word of this powerful spirit of stone had reached far into the mountains. In fact, it had reached as far as the ancient hold of Gadan, where a powerful warlord reigned, and, reckoning himself a second coming of Uzvitema, "the lord of stone" he heard his destiny call. A great host was called together, and in the dead of night they fell upon Syfos' crowd like a storm.

It was a bloodbath - most of the gathered were not warriors, and countless were slain, or taken captive. Some managed to flee, though many who tried were chased down, and when dawn returned only a very few remained in the ruins of their camp. The singing stone, of course, was missing.

The survivors were mostly hardened warriors, but also artisans, farmers, musicians - any who were brave enough to stand and fight, and lucky enough to survive that choice. After tending to the few wounded they gathered together to decide what to do next, and one suggestion quickly gained support: they would strike back, and free the singing stone. They had been outmatched the night before, and were even more so now, their supplies were stolen or ruined, and many of them had scrapes or wounds. They knew their chances were slim, and the risks should they fail great, but these were people who had accompanied Syfos for months, or years, and they could not bear to just abandon the stone to be bound and enslaved. So they all swore an oath, to free the singing stone, and wreak vengeance on the Dzadek for their fallen companions.

And so they made their way, in secrecy and stealth, through the lands where the Dzadek reign and the skies have eyes and any gust of wind might herald death.

But when they reached Gadan, they found not what they expected: a cloud of dark smoke covered the sky, and the mountain was rent asunder, spilling its molten innards down the valley, and the lake was darkened with the blood of the Dzadek. Not one living Dzadek could they find in the settlement, but they did find their captured companions, and after a fruitless search for Syfos, they returned home, relieved and grateful, but also disappointed. Many returned to their earlier lives, forever scarred by their experiences, but some of them remembered their unfullfilled oath, and continued the search for Syfos, and their campaign against the blood-drinkers.

The Knights of the Singing Stone would remain implacable foes of the Dzadek, and though they would often face adversity and defeat, they could always be found wherever an incursion happened, acting both openly and in secret to defeat the enemy. In times of peace, they would turn to the other half of their purpose, and go on long quests in search for Syfos, but though there would often be rumours of its reappearance in some corner of Lanai or another, they would never turn out true. Eventually, they would go further abroad, and hear similar stories on the east coast as well, but Syfos was long gone by that point, returned to the ocean once more.

A Rival Centre of Power

The eastern provinces, with their vast open spaces, and relatively fewer dangers, conitnue to prosper and grow. But in their safe distance from any former foes, and with defensible chokeholds, they have never seen war, and many wonder why they should pay for Chivik's enormous army - which only ever seems good for quashing rebellious tribes and patrolling its own tunnels.

Especially the Tanmakmak are increasingly unsatisfied with the status quo, and it is increasingly to them that the new cities Chellat and Chitlat look for guidance and leadership, rather than the traditionally loyalist official governor in Retvik.

[found city x2: 14-6=8]

Mobilizing the Opposition

In the south, the erstwhile enemy Neskot was subjugated, conquered, plundered, occupied, and had its eponmymous ruling clan exterminated. But the Fikset clan, while loyal to Chivik, is not popular, and neither is the small remnant of the occupation force. The local warrior clans lost their weapons, status, and privileges, and were relegated to worker duties. But while it has been many generations, they have never forgotten or forgiven this slight. They have, however, left behind (most of) their dislike of the other worker clans, and increasingly strong alliances them all together. The former warriors kept up their martial traditions in secrecy, as best they could, and now also train the other clans. Together with smuggled or illegitimately manufactured weapons and armour, a total mobilization looks increasingly possible, ironically not all that different from Chivik's model. An armed uprising is quietly brewing, awaiting only a spark...

[command city (build army): 8-2=6]

An Ocean of Trouble

With the growth of Deep Chivik, there is a boom for the maritime trades. Seafood and treasures from the depths are available like never before, and a kind of submersible vessel is developed, enabling more pleasant journeys through the waters, and capable of safely carrying greater quantities of cargo with ease. But the deepest depths still hide many strange and dangerous things, and the Tiktik that live there grow increasingly alienated from the upper city they rarely even visit anymore.

But the new maritime knowhow also allows Chivik to found a colony across the seas in the upper underworld. Chital is a port city, the first of its kind in the underworld, and unlocks access to a new and fairly unexploited region.

But while the new city is not built on traditional tribal lands, the tribes nevertheless see it as an encroachment. In other places tunnels continue being walled off from them, and there is no doubt that this new city is just the latest westward expansion, not the last. But while the occasional armed resistance still invariably meets defeat, some of the tribes have found another means of improving their position.

With the growth of trade with the surface through their lands, they grow rich from caravan trade, or through providing guides and safe waypoints. The Chivikvik would dearly love to control this themselves, but they lack the knowledge of these wild and faraway tunnels. Official state policy has been to ban all sorts of unsanctioned and uncontrolled expeditions, in an effort to root out the Ayidyid, and Chivikvik traders and partols now rarely stray from long secured and safe (relatively speaking) paths.

Thus the most remote tribes have completely thrown off the yoke of Chivik, and take big cuts from any trade through their lands, and those still paying tribute watch them both with jealousy and admiration.