http://193.122.143.38/ Fri, 29 May 2026 22:42:47 +0000 MyBB http://193.122.143.38/showthread.php?tid=130 Sat, 02 May 2026 18:25:47 +0000 __denby]]> http://193.122.143.38/showthread.php?tid=130 The Father and Mother
Solidarity and Repose
It is the duty of men to question that which lies present in the world around them. However, the scope of human ingenuity and understanding can only go so far. Other races may believe that they possess something of note, yet even they- the Elves for their longevity, and the Dwarves for their craft, the Men for their resilience, cannot answer all questions. Who then, may? To know all, to answer all, is reserved for that which may have existed since time immemorial- the entities whose essence forms the very foundation of the world.

In druidic legend, there is told of two- the Father and Mother. Entities who have been present since the very dawn of Time Immemorial. They are not Divine, nay- in fact, quite the opposite. Not a shred of power beyond what has been granted by sheer age, is thought present in these mythical beings. A Stone and a Tree, two paragons of structure, of progress- of existence. Comprised however, not from the energies of the Awakening- but from the coalescence of matter. Little is fundamentally special about the two, beyond that they are both the First of their Kind. With Ancient things, lies Ancient knowledge- and knowledge, is power.

When one speaks of the legend of the Father, the essence of ordered stagnancy is embodied. Solidarity- strength, durability, weight, and erosion. That which forms the constructive essence of the World, the bonds and forms which make life possible. The Father embodies in druidic legend, the first form, the structure of this world’s genesis. An anchor, for all that is- all that was- and all that is yet to be. The Father was the first stone, that first speck of dust which began the formation of this cosmically insignificant world. Yet, despite its insignificance in relation to the greatness of the Beyond, we owe all to the Father, whose simple and worthless existence gave meaning to all that has been since the dawn of creation. Because of this, it is rumored that the Father, that Rock of Solidarity, is something of an other: A being of unparallelled pointlessness- unable to be damaged, unable to be moved, and unable to be changed by any interaction.

When one speaks of the legend of the Mother, the essence of chaotic progress is embodied. A duality to the Father, yet meaningless to him beyond that the Mother could only produce upon the loins of the Father. Without structure, life could not take root. Without Life, however- we, the races of this realm, could not exist. In relation however, the Mother’s existence is significantly less ominous than the Father- her age, countless eons younger. Caring, as all Life is, to the existence of the elements- though the elements care not for life. The Mother was the first Tree, the propagator of complex life. Whose roots gave birth to the space in which beasts that crawl and creep may propagate; Whose trunk gave birth to the nourishment in which lively fluids sprang forth; Whose branches gave safety to all that scurry and fly; Whose leaves gave salubrious feast to the dry and uncaring soil; and whose presence gave solace to the grasses from the power of the scorching sun. All that lives, owes the cost of survival to the Mother- yet, her duties being done, yet they care not. The Mother, after unending ages, has become the nourishment still, in death- to her spawn. Set astride a deep and fog-mired bog, there stands an ancient and sprawling oak, whose life long ago expired. Yet, no axe may marr the surface of this antediluvian monarch, at least not long after the bearer of that axe has expired and fed the uncaring earth, all that made him who he was. No storm may topple her, nor may any machination of science rule her- not till long after all that is, has gone away.

The Father and the Mother, embody the concepts of Solidarity and Repose, the essence of Nature that exists unchanging and permanent. Time may pass, and nations may rise and be forgotten- yet among all this, the atavistic presence of the two at whose hands sprawl all creation, remain unchanged.]]> The Father and Mother
Solidarity and Repose
It is the duty of men to question that which lies present in the world around them. However, the scope of human ingenuity and understanding can only go so far. Other races may believe that they possess something of note, yet even they- the Elves for their longevity, and the Dwarves for their craft, the Men for their resilience, cannot answer all questions. Who then, may? To know all, to answer all, is reserved for that which may have existed since time immemorial- the entities whose essence forms the very foundation of the world.

In druidic legend, there is told of two- the Father and Mother. Entities who have been present since the very dawn of Time Immemorial. They are not Divine, nay- in fact, quite the opposite. Not a shred of power beyond what has been granted by sheer age, is thought present in these mythical beings. A Stone and a Tree, two paragons of structure, of progress- of existence. Comprised however, not from the energies of the Awakening- but from the coalescence of matter. Little is fundamentally special about the two, beyond that they are both the First of their Kind. With Ancient things, lies Ancient knowledge- and knowledge, is power.

When one speaks of the legend of the Father, the essence of ordered stagnancy is embodied. Solidarity- strength, durability, weight, and erosion. That which forms the constructive essence of the World, the bonds and forms which make life possible. The Father embodies in druidic legend, the first form, the structure of this world’s genesis. An anchor, for all that is- all that was- and all that is yet to be. The Father was the first stone, that first speck of dust which began the formation of this cosmically insignificant world. Yet, despite its insignificance in relation to the greatness of the Beyond, we owe all to the Father, whose simple and worthless existence gave meaning to all that has been since the dawn of creation. Because of this, it is rumored that the Father, that Rock of Solidarity, is something of an other: A being of unparallelled pointlessness- unable to be damaged, unable to be moved, and unable to be changed by any interaction.

When one speaks of the legend of the Mother, the essence of chaotic progress is embodied. A duality to the Father, yet meaningless to him beyond that the Mother could only produce upon the loins of the Father. Without structure, life could not take root. Without Life, however- we, the races of this realm, could not exist. In relation however, the Mother’s existence is significantly less ominous than the Father- her age, countless eons younger. Caring, as all Life is, to the existence of the elements- though the elements care not for life. The Mother was the first Tree, the propagator of complex life. Whose roots gave birth to the space in which beasts that crawl and creep may propagate; Whose trunk gave birth to the nourishment in which lively fluids sprang forth; Whose branches gave safety to all that scurry and fly; Whose leaves gave salubrious feast to the dry and uncaring soil; and whose presence gave solace to the grasses from the power of the scorching sun. All that lives, owes the cost of survival to the Mother- yet, her duties being done, yet they care not. The Mother, after unending ages, has become the nourishment still, in death- to her spawn. Set astride a deep and fog-mired bog, there stands an ancient and sprawling oak, whose life long ago expired. Yet, no axe may marr the surface of this antediluvian monarch, at least not long after the bearer of that axe has expired and fed the uncaring earth, all that made him who he was. No storm may topple her, nor may any machination of science rule her- not till long after all that is, has gone away.

The Father and the Mother, embody the concepts of Solidarity and Repose, the essence of Nature that exists unchanging and permanent. Time may pass, and nations may rise and be forgotten- yet among all this, the atavistic presence of the two at whose hands sprawl all creation, remain unchanged.]]> http://193.122.143.38/showthread.php?tid=129 Sat, 02 May 2026 15:06:05 +0000 __denby]]> http://193.122.143.38/showthread.php?tid=129 The Soul

~~~
An excerpt from the tome “Exci omni magica, experientia in opere Domini”  scribed by Torbundus Alfonthieri, a monk exiled from the Westcontre due to his seeming madness and insanity. Often known as the ‘Mad Monk’, Torbundus’ writings on the soul and its’ manifestations are often seen as heresy and the dribble of an overly-educated drunkard.

A soul, in simple terms, is the life-giving flame of a sentient organism. Everything that thinks, irregardless of species or origin, possesses a soul. It is not the creation of man, nor is it the creation of a god- but rather something that seemingly came into existence of its own volition. That spark, much like the concept of spontaneous combustion, is as ill-rumored as is the alchemical phenomenon itself. The most austere and esoteric scholars claim that they understand the mechanics behind a soul, yet they have not even so much as truly scratched the surface. The soul cannot be fully understood, whether philosophically or arithmetically- though, a basic and functional understanding can be developed by those who have dedicated themselves to such an intense path of research.

In the realm of magick, a soul is often realized as something of a power source. They can be taken, used as fuel, much like a sort of arcanic oil. They can also be fueled, which sets them apart from the more mundane concept of a flammable material. A log once burned, cannot be burned once again- nor can a spent drop of oil be granted new purpose. Nay, the soul is more akin to the tankard in which oil is drawn into a lantern wick. In this case, the wick is the body- and the flame, the effulgent concept of existence itself. The more astute would then question what may be considered the solution that fills the soul- and the most thoughtful among them would spring to head with an answer immediately. Memories. They would be right- at least somewhat. The soul is formed, grown and cultivated all upon its own via an organism’s experiences and memories. Thus, in direct correlation, the older an entity is, the more powerful the soul that it harbors. The quality of these memories and experiences also matters greatly- a cow, somehow having its poor life extended beyond the mortal coil would have an extraordinarily powerful soul- yet, containing the infinite memory of consuming grass, trotting about, and shitting profusely. It would serve as fuel, no doubt, should some magus stumble upon it and use it in a profane ritual. Yet, it would be as burning crude whalers’ oil straight from the blubber.

How would a soul acquire quality, then? If we understand already that the memories and experiences of a being directly contribute to the volume of its’ soul, then how can the quality of that volume be increased? Consider- the memory and experience of a pointless existence, versus the memory and experience of a short-lived goblin, doing what a goblin does- pillaging, raping, stealing and drinking. In the case of the stated example, the immortal bovine and her fleeting rambunctious counterpart would be incomparable in the size of their soul. The goblin would no doubt have a tiny flame within himself- however, his flame would burn as bright as the sun, while the bovine would have little more than an enormous and faded lump of cinder. Thus, the correlation is established. The length of time that a soul has existed directly contributes to the soul’s size, and the activity experienced by that soul directly contributes to the soul’s ‘temperature.’

If souls are understood as fuel then, it is well understood that they can be sought after- or used, in some manner. This statement is more than true. Creatures of the supernatural or paranormal ilk seek them, in such that they consume them. Beings such as Mumblers are a prime example, utilizing souls to feed their pathetic existence. They themselves had a soul once, and that soul’s power in death allowed them to continue onwards as some shadow of their original selves. Of especial note in the terms of souls, is the price that demonic entities will pay for them- a sort of exchange process. Some morons elect to use this desirable quality for bargaining. Power, in exchange for their soul- a life of another, in exchange for the soul of some unsuspecting third party. The mortal races do not understand value however, and often understate or overstate it vastly. Know this, my fickle reader; a demon will always get the upper hand in the deal. You are not smarter, no matter how highly you hold yourself.

Those heretics that call themselves magus often use their own soul to power their arcanic rituals, whether philanthropic or pointlessly aggressive. It is unlikely that these ‘rituals’ even work, no doubt- however, throughout my studies, I have determined that those who can make claim to be soothsayers of the ilk whom fuel their spellweaving via the ‘soul’ are those who tend to be utter hedonists. Allegedly, dire situations, horrifying orgies and destructive bar fighting leads to more powerful spells from the magus. It is for this reason I ascertain that some witchery cults perform nude in the forest, drunk upon wine and liquers.

Regardless of your belief however, experience and age directly correlate to the power of the ethereal soul. It is even possible for ancient objects to attain some form of pseudo-soul manifestations. Such is likely the source of what some mechanists refer to as ‘machine sprites’, or phenomenon where constructs such as ships and suits of armor behave in manners unfitting for an object that does not bear life.

OOC Mechanics:

• Every sentient being possesses a soul.
  
• The ‘volume’ of a soul is directly related to the age of the being.
  
• The ‘temperature’ of a soul is directly related to the extreme experiences of the being.
  
• Souls may be used as ‘fuel’ for rituals.
  
• Souls may be used as bargaining chips with supernatural entities.
  
• An individual who experiences incredibly heartwarming or incredibly terrifying emotional experiences may spontaneously acquire magical acuity.
  
• Creations may accrue some form of ‘soul’ over extended periods of time.
  

]]> The Soul

~~~
An excerpt from the tome “Exci omni magica, experientia in opere Domini”  scribed by Torbundus Alfonthieri, a monk exiled from the Westcontre due to his seeming madness and insanity. Often known as the ‘Mad Monk’, Torbundus’ writings on the soul and its’ manifestations are often seen as heresy and the dribble of an overly-educated drunkard.

A soul, in simple terms, is the life-giving flame of a sentient organism. Everything that thinks, irregardless of species or origin, possesses a soul. It is not the creation of man, nor is it the creation of a god- but rather something that seemingly came into existence of its own volition. That spark, much like the concept of spontaneous combustion, is as ill-rumored as is the alchemical phenomenon itself. The most austere and esoteric scholars claim that they understand the mechanics behind a soul, yet they have not even so much as truly scratched the surface. The soul cannot be fully understood, whether philosophically or arithmetically- though, a basic and functional understanding can be developed by those who have dedicated themselves to such an intense path of research.

In the realm of magick, a soul is often realized as something of a power source. They can be taken, used as fuel, much like a sort of arcanic oil. They can also be fueled, which sets them apart from the more mundane concept of a flammable material. A log once burned, cannot be burned once again- nor can a spent drop of oil be granted new purpose. Nay, the soul is more akin to the tankard in which oil is drawn into a lantern wick. In this case, the wick is the body- and the flame, the effulgent concept of existence itself. The more astute would then question what may be considered the solution that fills the soul- and the most thoughtful among them would spring to head with an answer immediately. Memories. They would be right- at least somewhat. The soul is formed, grown and cultivated all upon its own via an organism’s experiences and memories. Thus, in direct correlation, the older an entity is, the more powerful the soul that it harbors. The quality of these memories and experiences also matters greatly- a cow, somehow having its poor life extended beyond the mortal coil would have an extraordinarily powerful soul- yet, containing the infinite memory of consuming grass, trotting about, and shitting profusely. It would serve as fuel, no doubt, should some magus stumble upon it and use it in a profane ritual. Yet, it would be as burning crude whalers’ oil straight from the blubber.

How would a soul acquire quality, then? If we understand already that the memories and experiences of a being directly contribute to the volume of its’ soul, then how can the quality of that volume be increased? Consider- the memory and experience of a pointless existence, versus the memory and experience of a short-lived goblin, doing what a goblin does- pillaging, raping, stealing and drinking. In the case of the stated example, the immortal bovine and her fleeting rambunctious counterpart would be incomparable in the size of their soul. The goblin would no doubt have a tiny flame within himself- however, his flame would burn as bright as the sun, while the bovine would have little more than an enormous and faded lump of cinder. Thus, the correlation is established. The length of time that a soul has existed directly contributes to the soul’s size, and the activity experienced by that soul directly contributes to the soul’s ‘temperature.’

If souls are understood as fuel then, it is well understood that they can be sought after- or used, in some manner. This statement is more than true. Creatures of the supernatural or paranormal ilk seek them, in such that they consume them. Beings such as Mumblers are a prime example, utilizing souls to feed their pathetic existence. They themselves had a soul once, and that soul’s power in death allowed them to continue onwards as some shadow of their original selves. Of especial note in the terms of souls, is the price that demonic entities will pay for them- a sort of exchange process. Some morons elect to use this desirable quality for bargaining. Power, in exchange for their soul- a life of another, in exchange for the soul of some unsuspecting third party. The mortal races do not understand value however, and often understate or overstate it vastly. Know this, my fickle reader; a demon will always get the upper hand in the deal. You are not smarter, no matter how highly you hold yourself.

Those heretics that call themselves magus often use their own soul to power their arcanic rituals, whether philanthropic or pointlessly aggressive. It is unlikely that these ‘rituals’ even work, no doubt- however, throughout my studies, I have determined that those who can make claim to be soothsayers of the ilk whom fuel their spellweaving via the ‘soul’ are those who tend to be utter hedonists. Allegedly, dire situations, horrifying orgies and destructive bar fighting leads to more powerful spells from the magus. It is for this reason I ascertain that some witchery cults perform nude in the forest, drunk upon wine and liquers.

Regardless of your belief however, experience and age directly correlate to the power of the ethereal soul. It is even possible for ancient objects to attain some form of pseudo-soul manifestations. Such is likely the source of what some mechanists refer to as ‘machine sprites’, or phenomenon where constructs such as ships and suits of armor behave in manners unfitting for an object that does not bear life.

OOC Mechanics:

• Every sentient being possesses a soul.
  
• The ‘volume’ of a soul is directly related to the age of the being.
  
• The ‘temperature’ of a soul is directly related to the extreme experiences of the being.
  
• Souls may be used as ‘fuel’ for rituals.
  
• Souls may be used as bargaining chips with supernatural entities.
  
• An individual who experiences incredibly heartwarming or incredibly terrifying emotional experiences may spontaneously acquire magical acuity.
  
• Creations may accrue some form of ‘soul’ over extended periods of time.
  

]]> http://193.122.143.38/showthread.php?tid=119 Tue, 28 Apr 2026 18:07:36 +0000 __denby]]> http://193.122.143.38/showthread.php?tid=119 Ascension of the Magicks
A Primer of Magicka and Spirituality of the Sangreal

~~~

Of the great and terrible things roared forth unto the differentiated abyss, there were a series of words in counter-nature to the Illumination, woven by the great thinking beast that themselves underpin the torrents of creation issued forth out of the shadowed Mother. Intelligence, raw and pulsing with disgust and bile, like tainted surreptitious worms the power and will of the beast was lashed to the abyss. It was the nature of this corruption, the thing that could behold and the beholder of the thing to be corrupted which imbued within it a sort of power. Understanding, or the capacity to understand being given unto the great beast, its emanation having the capacity for metacognition, saw itself as the first child. Of blackest mirror, issued forth out of an act of carnal anger between illumination and the abyss. The cosmic dance had been set forth, and it was the echo of the child's anguish that set certain things into motion. Where of the Illumination descended the known Wills, the emanations of the childly beast enraptured the cage of experience that the godhead now found its power mired. In such, the tone and the hand may itself emanate and shape these. Such is the secret knowledge that is claimed to be held by those who in clandestine cloisters worship. Culturally speaking, the words contained in the 'Ascension of Magicks' are commonplace. Some used as curses, some seen as words unworthy uttering for their connections to death and disease. Hedge-witches mutter them and alchemists trace the runes associated with them out of mere superstition - yet there are still rumors of those who work real power. It is said the power of the Beast, whose worshippers refer more reverently as the Child, marks those that wield it. Progression along the 'path' erodes the light of the divine that flickers within. 

It is worth noting that the Ascension starts at 'thirty', noting that there must have been thirty utterances of the Beast in that event of pre-incarnate rage that underweaves our current presence in the Sangreal. Six forms - themselves being both words and symbols, somehow - represent the six elements, known as magicks of the elements.

30. Pashteq - Water - a Circle.
29. Amahn - Air - a Dot.
28. Kalion - Fire - a Line.
27. Molliyan - Earth - a Triangle.
26. Encegon - Metals - a Square.
25. Pashkegon - Light - a Triangle divided left by line.

Reaching the twenty-fourth form, it is suggested by texts that one passes a threshold in some supernatural power. Many of the hedge-magick association suggest that only after 'mastery' of the previous five forms, is one able to progress. Whether this means having used it, having drawn it, memorized it or something else - the layfolk is unsure. Of the next set of forms, we find represented the five courses of emotion that tie man and beast together in form. These are known as the magicks of the spirit. It is assumed that a master of these forces would possess the capacity, somehow, to manipulate it within their own and other flesh.

24. Mohtep - Thought - a Square flanked right by two Dots.
23. Qolpha - Control - a Triangle bisected and crowned by Line.
22. Emis - Prophecy - Two Squares adjacent.
21. Kohn - Suffering - Double Triangles crowned by Line bearing a single Dot.
20. Daija - Bliss - Triangle divided left by Line, flanked by three Dots separated by Line.

Upon the nineteenth form, there is only one historical account of a practitioner. A solar elf of the House Ireaht possessed runic seals of the 19th Form, Ykele allegedly granted to him by a divine emissary. This elf of Ireaht could in essence, cure any ailment and restore even lost limbs and organs - it is with this known record, that there is some guarantee the names and forms of magick are legitimate. A mechanism of use still eludes even the devout practitioners. From the nineteenth form, we descend through what are known as magicks of the blood, the shackles of divine flame within flesh.

19. Ykele - Healing - Double Square crowned Triangle.
18. Golyon - Harm - Square emerging Line right, flanked by four Dots, buttressed Line right.
17. Aishtep - Aging - Triangle trisected top by double line, central Dot and flanked by two Dots. Accompanied right Triangle bisected by Line left legged by Line.
16. Cacoillon - Necromancy - Double square capped top and bottom by Triangle, bridged double Line.
15. Mintassa - Polymorphosis - Tenth framed triangle, bisected by line, downward facing.

Of thirty utterances, only nineteen possess known symbols reflecting them. The final four with known symbols are those known as the magicks of the spheres. Associated with the physical structure of the realm of the Sangreal, it is presumed that knowledge or effectuation of these forms would enact some sort of control over these fundamental forces. It is noted that as the descending order progresses, the complication of each symbol increases.

14. Poryphassa - Space - Tenth quadresected line and thrice Dot arrayed leading left to ascendant right.
13. Axkon - Gravity - Tenth square trine Dots, facing down.
12. Belisor - Acceleration - Tenth, containing descending Triangle, framed ascending Triangle crowned by two Dots.
11. Ont - Time - Tenth trisected above and below, crowned by Triangle and footed by Line.

Some scholars would suggest the 'casting' of spells was accomplished either by compounded runic inscriptions, or by the vocalization of the symbols' less-than-divine nomenclature. A scrap of spellpaper from the aforementioned House Ireaht presumably describing rune placement reads, 'Amahn-pashteq trisected below Kalion, crowned in Molliyan and served by ...' No surviving fragments fully describe the process by which one 'activates' these runes - though it is also believed this may have been a symbolic language describing some internal esoteric process.

~~~

~ ~ ~

The final set are rumored to exist, approaching a concept known as 'Monadus'. A state of being known as 'the abyss of mind' is referenced as being necessary to achieve forms beyond the 11th. Given that the lowest form known to have been utilized in ancient history to be the 19th, it would be an impressive 'mage' indeed to achieve the 11th. A man (or woman) of measure beyond measures. Cults, as one knows require the uninformed to see a path of 'ever-striving'. These are known as the 'passage of the archmage.'

10. Tont, 9. Yamele, 8. Gokyon, 7. Seb, 6. Saballon, 5. Quinto, 4. Quartos, 3. Theysan, 2. Dorok, 1. Ayne, 0. Monadus.]]> Ascension of the Magicks
A Primer of Magicka and Spirituality of the Sangreal

~~~

Of the great and terrible things roared forth unto the differentiated abyss, there were a series of words in counter-nature to the Illumination, woven by the great thinking beast that themselves underpin the torrents of creation issued forth out of the shadowed Mother. Intelligence, raw and pulsing with disgust and bile, like tainted surreptitious worms the power and will of the beast was lashed to the abyss. It was the nature of this corruption, the thing that could behold and the beholder of the thing to be corrupted which imbued within it a sort of power. Understanding, or the capacity to understand being given unto the great beast, its emanation having the capacity for metacognition, saw itself as the first child. Of blackest mirror, issued forth out of an act of carnal anger between illumination and the abyss. The cosmic dance had been set forth, and it was the echo of the child's anguish that set certain things into motion. Where of the Illumination descended the known Wills, the emanations of the childly beast enraptured the cage of experience that the godhead now found its power mired. In such, the tone and the hand may itself emanate and shape these. Such is the secret knowledge that is claimed to be held by those who in clandestine cloisters worship. Culturally speaking, the words contained in the 'Ascension of Magicks' are commonplace. Some used as curses, some seen as words unworthy uttering for their connections to death and disease. Hedge-witches mutter them and alchemists trace the runes associated with them out of mere superstition - yet there are still rumors of those who work real power. It is said the power of the Beast, whose worshippers refer more reverently as the Child, marks those that wield it. Progression along the 'path' erodes the light of the divine that flickers within. 

It is worth noting that the Ascension starts at 'thirty', noting that there must have been thirty utterances of the Beast in that event of pre-incarnate rage that underweaves our current presence in the Sangreal. Six forms - themselves being both words and symbols, somehow - represent the six elements, known as magicks of the elements.

30. Pashteq - Water - a Circle.
29. Amahn - Air - a Dot.
28. Kalion - Fire - a Line.
27. Molliyan - Earth - a Triangle.
26. Encegon - Metals - a Square.
25. Pashkegon - Light - a Triangle divided left by line.

Reaching the twenty-fourth form, it is suggested by texts that one passes a threshold in some supernatural power. Many of the hedge-magick association suggest that only after 'mastery' of the previous five forms, is one able to progress. Whether this means having used it, having drawn it, memorized it or something else - the layfolk is unsure. Of the next set of forms, we find represented the five courses of emotion that tie man and beast together in form. These are known as the magicks of the spirit. It is assumed that a master of these forces would possess the capacity, somehow, to manipulate it within their own and other flesh.

24. Mohtep - Thought - a Square flanked right by two Dots.
23. Qolpha - Control - a Triangle bisected and crowned by Line.
22. Emis - Prophecy - Two Squares adjacent.
21. Kohn - Suffering - Double Triangles crowned by Line bearing a single Dot.
20. Daija - Bliss - Triangle divided left by Line, flanked by three Dots separated by Line.

Upon the nineteenth form, there is only one historical account of a practitioner. A solar elf of the House Ireaht possessed runic seals of the 19th Form, Ykele allegedly granted to him by a divine emissary. This elf of Ireaht could in essence, cure any ailment and restore even lost limbs and organs - it is with this known record, that there is some guarantee the names and forms of magick are legitimate. A mechanism of use still eludes even the devout practitioners. From the nineteenth form, we descend through what are known as magicks of the blood, the shackles of divine flame within flesh.

19. Ykele - Healing - Double Square crowned Triangle.
18. Golyon - Harm - Square emerging Line right, flanked by four Dots, buttressed Line right.
17. Aishtep - Aging - Triangle trisected top by double line, central Dot and flanked by two Dots. Accompanied right Triangle bisected by Line left legged by Line.
16. Cacoillon - Necromancy - Double square capped top and bottom by Triangle, bridged double Line.
15. Mintassa - Polymorphosis - Tenth framed triangle, bisected by line, downward facing.

Of thirty utterances, only nineteen possess known symbols reflecting them. The final four with known symbols are those known as the magicks of the spheres. Associated with the physical structure of the realm of the Sangreal, it is presumed that knowledge or effectuation of these forms would enact some sort of control over these fundamental forces. It is noted that as the descending order progresses, the complication of each symbol increases.

14. Poryphassa - Space - Tenth quadresected line and thrice Dot arrayed leading left to ascendant right.
13. Axkon - Gravity - Tenth square trine Dots, facing down.
12. Belisor - Acceleration - Tenth, containing descending Triangle, framed ascending Triangle crowned by two Dots.
11. Ont - Time - Tenth trisected above and below, crowned by Triangle and footed by Line.

Some scholars would suggest the 'casting' of spells was accomplished either by compounded runic inscriptions, or by the vocalization of the symbols' less-than-divine nomenclature. A scrap of spellpaper from the aforementioned House Ireaht presumably describing rune placement reads, 'Amahn-pashteq trisected below Kalion, crowned in Molliyan and served by ...' No surviving fragments fully describe the process by which one 'activates' these runes - though it is also believed this may have been a symbolic language describing some internal esoteric process.

~~~

~ ~ ~

The final set are rumored to exist, approaching a concept known as 'Monadus'. A state of being known as 'the abyss of mind' is referenced as being necessary to achieve forms beyond the 11th. Given that the lowest form known to have been utilized in ancient history to be the 19th, it would be an impressive 'mage' indeed to achieve the 11th. A man (or woman) of measure beyond measures. Cults, as one knows require the uninformed to see a path of 'ever-striving'. These are known as the 'passage of the archmage.'

10. Tont, 9. Yamele, 8. Gokyon, 7. Seb, 6. Saballon, 5. Quinto, 4. Quartos, 3. Theysan, 2. Dorok, 1. Ayne, 0. Monadus.]]> http://193.122.143.38/showthread.php?tid=32 Mon, 19 Aug 2024 22:52:31 +0000 __denby]]> http://193.122.143.38/showthread.php?tid=32    On the Origin of the World - The Creation of the Sangreal

~ ~ ~

~ ~ ~

   Out of the incomprehensible magnitude of the void, a single point of illumination sprung manifest into being. That which was not suddenly was, and with a point came reference, and from reference there emanated perception. In a moment, before the very concept of a moment could have come to be, It became. It was and is eternal and ineffable, the virtue of perception; the light in all eyes, the very twinkle of the stars. It then willed to know itself as self, whereby the perceiver of the reference could itself be perceived. In an ever complexifying summarization of systems, an effort to categorize the imperceptible and plumb the ungaugeable undertaken, Illumination beheld itself.


   In knowing itself as one, Illumination then desired to bring into being a thing, which separate from the illumination could contain the very concept of all ‘thingness’. Knowing self to be all that was, agency in vacuum was as no agency at all. Dividing itself thus from the totality of being, the foundational concepts of separation and otherness in regards to there being a ‘thing’ at all, found themselves made apparent. The fire of illumination then beheld the other, self reflected. Illumination then dwelled upon the surface of the vessel of possibility, the Sangreal. A time outside cycles Illumination gazed upon the waters of the abyss beyond the surface of the Sangreal.

   Dwelling upon the waters, playful hands of virgin divinity gave archetypal life to substances, furious spirits of primordial creation springing into being within the abyss as a pond might with summer pollywogs. Eyes of flames and storms of lights, glimmer within shadow and admixture upon mixture - consciousness untamed, magics unknown and presences divest of cosmic proportion broiled within the deep. The heart of Illumination swelled with joy at the vision of such creations and desired then to mold a form likened unto its own, possessing another point of perception. That which all others unto now, no matter how vast, knew not themselves. Illumination would imbue the Sangreal with the very fire within itself. Desire was made manifest, and Will to order the abyss sprung into being.

   Yet for there to be personae of ordered perception, Illumination divested itself of the totality of the godhead, and in essence made fertile the abyss. Illumination knew it not, that for there to be order, there must also be chaos. That all balanced by its equal opposite such that the sum of all becomes naught. In this single act of divine transgression, Illumination now beheld itself within the womb of the Sangreal, having willed itself separate within the tumultuous abyss of forces. Will and Chaos were beheld by their master, while they were ignorant of their place. Seeing a begotten that he knew not, thoughts malign and disturbed appeared upon the mind of the divine progenitor. Wrathful to erase this creation and begin anew, a still and feminine presence drew near to Illumination, quieting the mind. This unknown companion was the Sangreal itself, and it spoke only four words; “Let there be narrative.”

   There had been no words spoken, no intent enacted upon the surface of the abyss until that point that was not born of Illumination, evoking a bloom of panic upon the mind of the godhead. A sudden vastness came to the knowledge of Illumination, powers that he could behold but not control. Enraged, jealous now of the very power that had been separated from self and given to the Sangreal, Illumination descended upon the narrative within the womb that was the Sangreal and her abyss. Unknown to the divine, with light there must be shadow, and with action there must be response. Every act chosen by the godhead only further deepened the forces of the narrative, further tightening the unseen net. Illumination chose to seek the voice, dividing himself into smaller and smaller fragments, descending and ascending the realms of experience that grew ever outwards. Out of will and chaos came intent, there grew purpose and choice, actions and forms that contained distance. Separation grew as a gulf between every instance of creation and the understanding of Illumination began to be lost, for he knew not that to illuminate the abyss was to become it.

   A silent dawn arose then upon a differentiated creation, the framework of narrative imbued with the power and authority of raw creation. Stirred by primordial forces, a reflection of the events beyond the narrative's context, new thoughts began to emerge from the differentiated illumination. As the godhead had descended into the abyss possessed by the emotion of rage, the abyss felt. Where creation had begun out of the joy of that ineffable aeon, Sangreal herself was a mirror of blackest reflection, bearing thus that experience and its counter. Where love and play grew, hate and grief festered. The masculine illumination and the feminine abyss spun themselves within narrative, springing forth all that could be. Illumined by the light, the first thinking thing emerged, the first emotion imprinted upon it that of fractious nature. A great beast born of the abyss, this thinking thing drifted alone, capable of awareness and diffused with power. It thought. Abandoned by the mother and observed by the father, this great thinking beast too would observe the mystery of its emanation. Seeing only itself, the beast set about thrashing the primordial world, intent to loathe all that now was.

   Perceiving itself as the divine and not the child of it, it bellowed unto the differentiated abyss new words; “Do my will.” and the silence responded not. The great thinking beast roared into the darkness, raging against the invisible illumination, “Depart from me!” - and eternities elapsed, every manner of assault devised and attempted, but the silence responded not. So the beast dwelled silently, for but a moment of time would pass before that quiet voice spoke out of the abyss a second time, saying, “Run your course, child.” Having heard now the voice of the holy Sangreal, the beast devised and sought to curse the revealed, and to don a mimicry of the masculine Illumination as offense to the shadowed Mother. To pour fie and bile upon the primordial creation, where the unseen father had once cultivated good in equal measure. In response, the shadowed mother worked her will, setting about to bind within narrative the very cycle of mortal life. The great beast knew only to fall within the traps set for it, for the Sangreal spoke for the third and final time; “Curse you, King of Fools, that you rage against selfness so. As long as the fire burns in life, so shall you war with it.”

   Time began. Like a scroll unfurled, past and future spread outwards by narrative. Infused upon all things was love and goodness, yet also their opposites. In the beginning there was much power, the power of the Sangreal, and life supped readily from the cup of promise.

“But then the times grew to such evil, that the Holy Cup was caught away to heaven and disappear’d.” - The Holy Grail

]]>    On the Origin of the World - The Creation of the Sangreal

~ ~ ~

~ ~ ~

   Out of the incomprehensible magnitude of the void, a single point of illumination sprung manifest into being. That which was not suddenly was, and with a point came reference, and from reference there emanated perception. In a moment, before the very concept of a moment could have come to be, It became. It was and is eternal and ineffable, the virtue of perception; the light in all eyes, the very twinkle of the stars. It then willed to know itself as self, whereby the perceiver of the reference could itself be perceived. In an ever complexifying summarization of systems, an effort to categorize the imperceptible and plumb the ungaugeable undertaken, Illumination beheld itself.


   In knowing itself as one, Illumination then desired to bring into being a thing, which separate from the illumination could contain the very concept of all ‘thingness’. Knowing self to be all that was, agency in vacuum was as no agency at all. Dividing itself thus from the totality of being, the foundational concepts of separation and otherness in regards to there being a ‘thing’ at all, found themselves made apparent. The fire of illumination then beheld the other, self reflected. Illumination then dwelled upon the surface of the vessel of possibility, the Sangreal. A time outside cycles Illumination gazed upon the waters of the abyss beyond the surface of the Sangreal.

   Dwelling upon the waters, playful hands of virgin divinity gave archetypal life to substances, furious spirits of primordial creation springing into being within the abyss as a pond might with summer pollywogs. Eyes of flames and storms of lights, glimmer within shadow and admixture upon mixture - consciousness untamed, magics unknown and presences divest of cosmic proportion broiled within the deep. The heart of Illumination swelled with joy at the vision of such creations and desired then to mold a form likened unto its own, possessing another point of perception. That which all others unto now, no matter how vast, knew not themselves. Illumination would imbue the Sangreal with the very fire within itself. Desire was made manifest, and Will to order the abyss sprung into being.

   Yet for there to be personae of ordered perception, Illumination divested itself of the totality of the godhead, and in essence made fertile the abyss. Illumination knew it not, that for there to be order, there must also be chaos. That all balanced by its equal opposite such that the sum of all becomes naught. In this single act of divine transgression, Illumination now beheld itself within the womb of the Sangreal, having willed itself separate within the tumultuous abyss of forces. Will and Chaos were beheld by their master, while they were ignorant of their place. Seeing a begotten that he knew not, thoughts malign and disturbed appeared upon the mind of the divine progenitor. Wrathful to erase this creation and begin anew, a still and feminine presence drew near to Illumination, quieting the mind. This unknown companion was the Sangreal itself, and it spoke only four words; “Let there be narrative.”

   There had been no words spoken, no intent enacted upon the surface of the abyss until that point that was not born of Illumination, evoking a bloom of panic upon the mind of the godhead. A sudden vastness came to the knowledge of Illumination, powers that he could behold but not control. Enraged, jealous now of the very power that had been separated from self and given to the Sangreal, Illumination descended upon the narrative within the womb that was the Sangreal and her abyss. Unknown to the divine, with light there must be shadow, and with action there must be response. Every act chosen by the godhead only further deepened the forces of the narrative, further tightening the unseen net. Illumination chose to seek the voice, dividing himself into smaller and smaller fragments, descending and ascending the realms of experience that grew ever outwards. Out of will and chaos came intent, there grew purpose and choice, actions and forms that contained distance. Separation grew as a gulf between every instance of creation and the understanding of Illumination began to be lost, for he knew not that to illuminate the abyss was to become it.

   A silent dawn arose then upon a differentiated creation, the framework of narrative imbued with the power and authority of raw creation. Stirred by primordial forces, a reflection of the events beyond the narrative's context, new thoughts began to emerge from the differentiated illumination. As the godhead had descended into the abyss possessed by the emotion of rage, the abyss felt. Where creation had begun out of the joy of that ineffable aeon, Sangreal herself was a mirror of blackest reflection, bearing thus that experience and its counter. Where love and play grew, hate and grief festered. The masculine illumination and the feminine abyss spun themselves within narrative, springing forth all that could be. Illumined by the light, the first thinking thing emerged, the first emotion imprinted upon it that of fractious nature. A great beast born of the abyss, this thinking thing drifted alone, capable of awareness and diffused with power. It thought. Abandoned by the mother and observed by the father, this great thinking beast too would observe the mystery of its emanation. Seeing only itself, the beast set about thrashing the primordial world, intent to loathe all that now was.

   Perceiving itself as the divine and not the child of it, it bellowed unto the differentiated abyss new words; “Do my will.” and the silence responded not. The great thinking beast roared into the darkness, raging against the invisible illumination, “Depart from me!” - and eternities elapsed, every manner of assault devised and attempted, but the silence responded not. So the beast dwelled silently, for but a moment of time would pass before that quiet voice spoke out of the abyss a second time, saying, “Run your course, child.” Having heard now the voice of the holy Sangreal, the beast devised and sought to curse the revealed, and to don a mimicry of the masculine Illumination as offense to the shadowed Mother. To pour fie and bile upon the primordial creation, where the unseen father had once cultivated good in equal measure. In response, the shadowed mother worked her will, setting about to bind within narrative the very cycle of mortal life. The great beast knew only to fall within the traps set for it, for the Sangreal spoke for the third and final time; “Curse you, King of Fools, that you rage against selfness so. As long as the fire burns in life, so shall you war with it.”

   Time began. Like a scroll unfurled, past and future spread outwards by narrative. Infused upon all things was love and goodness, yet also their opposites. In the beginning there was much power, the power of the Sangreal, and life supped readily from the cup of promise.

“But then the times grew to such evil, that the Holy Cup was caught away to heaven and disappear’d.” - The Holy Grail

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