Tuesday, 11 October 2011

Meet Saris

Okay, so by now it should be pretty self-evident that I have been ignoring my blog. It has not been intentional. I love my blog. It's homey.

I've just been busy. Thankfully blogs don't start whining or dying when you forget to feed them, and a few words are almost as good as a cardiac resuscitation. What follows is a bit more than 'a few words'. The bodily resurrection of this blog would make Doctor Frankenstein gape in awe.

Without much further ado, meet Saris Saryoni, the character I have been planning for TES: Skyrim. I figure if I'm going to devote more than 300 game hours to any single game I should damn myself right and proper and make it the most fantastical, marvelatious and thaumaturgical event of the year.

Here is my character creation, in brief:



Skyrim
Saris Saryoni

‘Tribunal Necromancer’

As the sole descendant of the famed Archcanon of the Tribunal Temple, Saris was expected to follow his uncle’s path, even though the Temple was facing destabilising chaos. Raised by pious parents who were loyal supporters of House Indoril, Saris struggled to live up to the high standards set for him. Numerous tutors were hired to teach him the arts of swordplay and restoration, but he showed little interest in such things in his youth. His attention was instead drawn by his neighbour where he lived in Mournhold, a beautiful and brilliant Dark Elf by the name of Ranis Athryn. Annoyed with their son’s lack of interest, his parents sent him to Vvardenfell to live with his cousins in Vivec City. Giving up any hope of his academic success, they thought he would with luck become an ordinator at the Ministry of Justice.

That very year The Oblivion Crisis began, and Saris was put into active duty without finishing his final examination. He was present during the initial assault on the temple when Lord Vivec was carried away by daedra, and survived a counterattack under the command of Telvanni Wizard Aryon.
The months spent in combat changed Saris, especially after he learned of the death of several of his childhood friends. When he learned that there had been an incident in Necrom, where Ranis Athryn was being schooled in sorcery, he abandoned his post and smuggled himself off the island in a merchant vessel bound out from Sadrith Mora. In Necrom he witnessed the aftermath of the Daedric siege, and encountered Ranis, dead by daedric magic. He swore to avenge her by slaying the Kynreeve who had struck the mortal blow, and set about the long hunt for retribution.

Though he had never paid much attention to his studies, Saris proved himself capable enough to join a troupe setting out to shut a nearby oblivion gate (by this time [Davel]’s success was widely known and aspired to by adventurers across the continent), though admittedly only as fodder if the need arose. His troupe avoided any major conflict, but gave Saris enough of an experience of Oblivion to avoid its sorceries in future. He postponed his quest for a time so as to train himself in the crafts necessary to exact his vengeance.

In an inn in southern Morrowind, Saris encountered his first necromancer; one who preached the word of the King of Worms and did little to endear Saris to his cause. The Tribunal Temple had very set ideas about necromancy, proclaiming it as heresy even though they themselves bound spirits to their tombs to protect the remains of the dead. Never quite understanding this hypocrisy, Saris befriended the necromancer so as to learn what he could of its principles. He learned the basics of conjuration and mysticism, two skills which he would continue to work on despite his frustration with the intellectual demands they made. He was more skilled with destruction and restoration, displaying a startling degree of willpower in his control of both.
When their relationship soured Saris made a quick retreat, leaving behind most of his worldly possessions and using most of his money to afford a trip to Cheydinhal. By the time he arrived The Oblivion Crisis was over, and word spread of Martin’s sacrifice and his apotheosis in Cyrodiil City. With any immediate revenge unattainable, Saris went about his study of conjuration, hoping to find the secret of opening an Oblivion Gate. He made a brief trip to the Imperial City to see the statue of Akatosh, and to enrol at The Arcane University – a choice which he regrets for its bad timing. News came of Red Mountain’s eruption and the destruction of Vvardenfell, and he hurried back to his homeland to aid his House.

The Indoril were virtually disbanded by the time he arrived, and shortly after it seemed as if all of Tamriel was crumbling into chaos. He returned to Mournhold to care for his parents, though he longed to resume his quest. Over time the fires dimmed and he entered service in the Tribunal Temple, though not even his parents understood why, with the Nerevarine missing and the original Tribunal clearly dead.
With his worldly experience behind him, Saris came to understand the temple differently to his fellows. He did not see the burial rituals and Ghost Fences as a different type of magick to necromancy, but rather a more responsible application of its principles. He read of the deeds of the Dunmer’s living gods and found comfort in their strict code of honour, but also a narrow-mindedness in the saints which he did not share. He found himself more attuned to the heresy of Sotha Sil and the poetic daydreamer in Vivec, and when duty called would he act with the severity of Almalexia.

In 4E 43, with the coming of the city of Umbriel, Saris and other select priests were dispatched to southern Morrowind to make sense of the destruction left in its wake.

                   Talos Septim = Barenziah Hlaalu (Unwed)
                                                |
                                Fendryn Girith = Daynasa Releth
                                 |
               Zenas Saryoni           =    Hainab Zaibat (Disowned)                           Bovyn Venim = Ienith Dren
                                                |                                                                                                   |
Tholer Saryoni (Archcanon)----Sardis = Tyris Venim-----Idayn Venim (deceased age 12)
              |                       
           Saris

3E 416, 17th of Heartfire - Born & raised in Mournhold under House Indoril.

3E 420 – Received a (meaningless) blessing from Almalexia during one of her infrequent appearances at the Tribunal Temple.

3E 428 – Unknowingly encountered the Nerevarine in Godsreach, pointing him in the direction of Velas Manor.

3E 429 – Had a brief and interrupted adventure in Old Mournhold while skipping Temple with his friend Ranis, and was rescued by an Ordinator.

3E 431 – Had a romantic affair with Ranis Athryn, the daughter of his neighbour in Godsreach.

3E 432 – His romance was discovered, and his parents moved him to Vivec City.
Saris spent most of his time in Vivec learning the code of the temple with bored disinterest. He was trained as a swordsman and drilled in the use of heavy armour, and studied in the hall of wisdom every weekend. He was given little free time, and that he spent recovering from his daily toils.

3E433 – With the coming of The Oblivion Crisis, he was put to active duty as an ordinator.

He was charged with facilitating communications to the frontier against a Dremora citadel at the Vivec Oblivion Gate.

He was led in a counterattack by Telvanni wizard Aryon during a siege on Molag Mar.

After the siege he received orders to return to Vivec.

While in Suran, he heard of an attack on Necrom. He deserted and travelled there to protect Ranis. Arriving too late, he swore vengeance on her killer.

He joined a troupe who shut an oblivion gate.

He attached himself to a necromancer and travelled with him southwest across Morrowind. Upon parting with one another, he headed towards the imperial province.

4E 1 – In Cheydinhal he heard of the end of The Oblivion Crisis and travelled to The Imperial City.
Enrolling at The Arcane University, he learned the fundamental laws of conjuration.

4E 5 – Transferring to Cheydinhal he lost most of his guild connections, well aware that the empire and its guilds were falling apart.

4E 6 – Befriending a local tribunal priest, Saris began to reminisce about the virtues of his homeland.

4E -- - Hearing of Red Mountain’s eruption from fleeing dunmer, Saris packed up and set off on the long voyage back to Mournhold.

4E -- - Saris arrived in Almalexia and found the districts of Mournhold barred, and all word of his family cut off. He pitted himself against the city’s suffering, and made a name for himself among the city’s healers.

4E -- - When Mournhold finally reopened, Saris reunited with his parents and convinced them to open their mansion to the poor and needy. He soon joined the tribunal temple and rose through its ranks.

4E 43 – Following a report of disturbances in the south, Saris led a troop of priests to the rim of The Inner Sea to aid who they could in the wake of Umbriel. Saris also saw his chance to regain contact with Oblivion.

Relieving himself from his group, Saris travelled to the crater of Vivec on Vvardenfell, though Umbriel had passed some time before. He walked through the ruins of the city and found shelter in the wasted remains of its sewers.
Sending word to his mother with a dunmer family who were leaving for the mainland, Saris planned to complete the Virtues laid down by the temple. He made an offering to Mephala at the Morag Tong shrine, and visited the barren site of the High Fane and Vivec’s Palace.
Saris then attached himself to a tribe of ashlanders who took him as far as Molag Amur before capturing him and demanding a ransom from his family. Saris escaped and ran, stumbling upon the Fields of Kummu. After toiling in the muck for a day, he carried himself up the edges of Foyada Mamaea, and came to the Ghostgate. He visited the Shrine of Daring, and then went north, first to Mar Gaan, then to Gnisis, though the Ashmask of Vivec had been stolen long ago.
Finding his Pilgrimage insurmountable in Vvardenfell’s current climate, he eventually took a vow of silence, heading north to the Sheogorad region in memory of Tholer Saryoni. He spent several years in solitude before at last returning to complete his pilgrimage, heading south to Mount Kand and then to the coast, gaining passage back to Mournhold.

4E 198 – After spending long years contemplating the virtues of the Tribunal and studying the wide fields of conjuration in the hopes of summoning his hated kynreeve, Saris at last rejoined his people. It came to his attention that a nord of the College of Winterhold was making a study of the Oblivion Gates, and with the hope of finding aid in his vengeance, he set out for Skyrim immediately.



Saris Saryoni Gameplay:

Magic:              Saris is first and foremost a necromancer, and devotes the largest portion of his magicka to summoning and controlling undead servants. He prefers harnessing the power of pure spirits rather than fleshed ones.
                        When magicka permits, he will use the forces of alteration or restoration to protect himself and then his charges. His style under duress is to remain calm and focused, moving only when necessary to avoid harm or to progress along the battlefield. He is quick to engage the use of ‘Ghost Fences’ (shield spells), and disarm his opponents with destruction magic.
                        In regard to direct Destruction (absorption is usually too costly), he switches between fire and frost, seldom using lightning unless it is absolutely necessary. To conserve magicka he uses spells which damage his enemies only a small amount over a long time, and avoids their attacks in the meantime by more material means. Saris resists the attractions of ‘splash’ damage in the hopes of sparing the environment from the consequences of battle.
                        Illusion is a natural part of being a necromancer in an empire where such people are ostracized and hunted for their craft. Saris knows how to cloak himself in shadows when necessary, or blind the eye that gets too close to his activities. He falls on illusion where instilling fear in his enemies is called for, and to command the undead and bring them into his service.
                        While undertaking his slow march to victory, Saris makes use of the Detect Life spell so as to know exactly what he is up against and prepare for the worst. Other spells once of the mystic school come in handy too. He is proficient in simple telekinesis and can incorporate spell absorption and reflection into his Ghost Fences. He also excels at banishing an enemy’s summoned minions with Dispel.
                        Saris often undergoes adventures deep into dungeons in order to locate and ensnare powerful souls. Most of these he binds into artefacts, which he later sells to make a profit. This was one of his duties when he was with the Tribunal Temple, and he still uses it to spread faith and respect in the temple.

Combat:           Saris was trained as an ordinator under the ancient house practices of the Indoril. He knows how to handle a longsword, a common blade, and has minor martial experience in hand-to-hand combat. During his long sojourn through the realms, he wore a suit of armour taken from the body of a Necrom guard, and grew accustomed to the feel of heavy armour. He has slept in it and swam in it several times when forced to. He eventually returned the suit of armour to its owner’s family, and exchanged it for simple bonemold. He is less adroit when placed in the armours of the West, but to a point he is more comfortable with them than he is in his own skin.
                        Though certainly proud of dunmer traditions, Saris in only too aware that he has no natural talent as a swordsman. He has only reached a minor level of prowess because of his consistent training, and even that has not had any noticeable effect. In his later years, Saris began to experiment with the martial styles the Ministry of Justice taught to their students as a last defence. After witnessing the ashlanders’ hand-to-hand forms from which ordinator training was adapted, Saris decided that the newly impoverished elven houses could benefit from a weapon-less mode of self-defence. He has approached the matter privately and cautiously, spending three hours a day sparring with his ancestor guardian, but otherwise using a sword when combat is necessary.
Saris does not have any experience as a marksman, and prefers ranged spells to ranged weapons.

Stealth:             Saris has never actively sought any training as a thief or scout, but has accumulated enough patience over the years to gain himself some basic affinities. Since Ranis’ death he has grown quiet and reserved, but he still holds all the bearing of an Indoril educated in the niceties of nobility. He can haggle and heckle with reasonable skill, though his years in seclusion in the Sheogorad region have not helped his people skills.
                        Security and sneaking are not skills one generally learns while in service to the temple. Saris occasionally found himself assisting the priests tasked with visiting the dunmer family tombs, but he barely paid any attention to the traps and wards they had to pass to renew the binding rituals. The skill is within him, but has yet to be actively approached.

Behaviour:        Saris has learnt to depend on himself, and does not converse with others regularly, preferring silent contemplation. He is always watching, assessing, and planning ahead so as to avoid unnecessary complications or deaths. He habitually finds a base of operations once moving into an area, clears all ills from the surrounding territories and moves on once matters of greater importance present themselves.

                                His day generally goes as follows:

                        8:00 – breakfast. He has a penchant for kwama eggs and scrib jelly, but while in the west he will eat soft fruit and well-cooked meat.

                        8:30 – Sparring. This is when Saris works on his hand-to-hand form with the aid of an ancestor guardian.

                        11:30 – Saris spends the rest of his morning hours in town following leads and trading.

                        1:00 – If he has adventuring matters to attend to, Saris will spend the afternoon doing them. If not, this is when he forges and enchants magickal artefacts.

                        6:00 – If he has not run over time, Saris will return to an inn, have a drink and attend to his study of the scriptures.

                        7:30 – Saris eats supper. He is used to making do with whatever is around, though if he can find some bittergreen to chew on he will do so.

9:00 – After dusk, Saris converses with his ancestors, asks questions and pays his respects. He prefers to do this in private, generally in a place conductive to spirits such as a graveyard or a tomb.

11:00 – Saris goes to sleep. He takes ascetic pleasure in having a simple bed in a simple house.

Opinions:

General:
Murder:           Saris understands the necessity of murder, and attempts to view it as an act of mercy. Killing a person does not end them completely – in simply removes them from the burdensome desires of flesh. In the case of the criminally-minded, the despotic, and the vain, murder is a release from the torture of materialism.

                        That said, life in its ‘meatier’ form serves a purpose. Saris considers the demands of flesh as the corruptive force of an acquired power: impure, but permissive in the sense that it provides insight into Aurbis and can be used to analyse the laws of Mundus which need be broken to establish spiritual apotheosis.

Plots:               Saris tries his best to be aware of greater themes written behind ordinary actions, and believes that insight and information are the best means towards this end. When faced with others plots (ones he himself disapproves of) he will spend time analysing its structure before attacking a crucial point – rarely with the intention of destruction, but rather transformation into something more useful.

Mystery:          The importance of mystery is omnipresent, but so is the importance of answers. Saris has come to understand Azura as such – a being whose methods are confusing so long as motive is concealed. Religiously speaking, Saris can think of no greater mystery than why the Daedra wish to help mortals in their psijic endeavour.
                        In imitation of Azura and Sotha Sil, Saris hides the extent of his research and his discoveries from his family and friends, knowing that oftentimes such knowledge can be burdensome. In this way, carrying a mystery is a form of love and caring, guarding the innocent from the inconceivable.
  

Races:

(Bad) Daedra:    Sworn enemies. Saris developed some hard feelings during the Oblivion Crisis, as well as making long lasting enmity with the dremora. Just as with his attitude towards necromancy, he does not see summoning daedra as an evil act in itself. He has summoned daedra himself on occasion so as to bind them within soultraps and create artefacts. He also acknowledges the moral sacrifices of Azura, Mephala and Boethiah.
He is less considerate of the House of Troubles. While he understands that as ancestors they deserve respect and reverence, he also acknowledges the truth of their corruption, and believes base evils must be fought to attain apotheosis.
                        Hunting down dangerous daedra is something Saris would consider as a responsibility to whatever locale he is present in.

Undead:           The perversion of an ancestral line is something Saris sees as a direct violation to dunmer culture. He takes particular offence to the entrapment of dunmer souls, but wouldn’t think of leaving an ancestor of any other race bound either. He sees ‘killing’ them as their spiritual liberation.
                       Saris has come to know his own ancestors well over the years, and relies on them for their support and guidance. He is also aware that they are hiding something from him, as he is unable to contact various of his relatives or get them to answer questions about themselves.

Nords:              Saris knows of the old wars against the nords, but as a child of the third empire he has set aside any obliged hatreds. He knows little about them, but leaves for Skyrim with the understanding that his ancestors are with him and will guide him through foreign perils.
                        But once he reaches Skyrim, he realises they are not as distant as he once thought. Something stirs within him – almost like what he feels on Vvardenfell when he visits an ancient ashlander burial ground – but different. At first he thinks it has to do with the death of his chimer bloodline in the merethic era wars, but it far different from the spiritual companionship he is accustomed to. He is used to souls beating warm, but those in Skyrim burn ice cold. He could never imagine the truth of what it is he is feeling.

Dunmer:           Saris’ House Indoril upbringing has instilled a fierce loyalty to his own people and cultures, but one he still resists with a touch of youthful insubordinance. After the bizarre fulfilment of The Nerevarine Prophecy, Martin’s mortal triumph over the Daedra and the Mad Apotheosis of [Davel], Saris knows his people are playing only a minor part in the current history of Tamriel. Rather than be ashamed by the inferiority of their station after being beaten by Argonians and Men, Saris stands proud and does what he can to show Tamriel that his people are not helpless victims or cursed devils.
                        Saris sees those who take and kill without reason or out of a spirit of selfishness as betrayers to the dunmer people and spoilers of their name. He sees them as beings of the Anticipations, crude and unrefined, yet capable of ascension to something greater. With this in mind he tends to forgive rather than punish, but will never condone an evil action without fully understanding its necessity.

Altmer:             Dark and High Elven cultures have never mixed well, and as a paragon of the Velothi way, Saris rarely feels comfortable among the Altmer. He indulges in the human rumours concerning their private lives, and grows tired of their arrogance quickly.

Bosmer:           Saris has met several bosmer over the course of his travels, and has come to enjoy their company, either in singular conversation or watching their antics from afar. He also has a great interest in their culture, and has always wanted to visit Valenwood.

Argonians:        As strange as it may sound, Saris has a healthy respect – even fear – of argonians. He does not understand the Hist, but after they drove his people from the south of Morrowind he has gained some insight into their power. He was a bit of a fence-sitter on the subject of slavery, not really caring one way or another, but was well aware of the idiocy with which some of his kin regarded the beast races and in no way saw them as lesser beings – especially after [Makinar’s] appearance as the Nerevarine.

Imperials:           Saris felt something close to patriotism towards the Septim Empire, and was struck as hard as anyone to see it crumble. He does not share the same sentiment with the Mede dynasty. He is openly derisive about ‘imperial loyalty’, and would only ally with the imperial cause to show them how matters ‘should’ be handled.

Redguards:       While interested in their ancient history and culture – particularly the ‘spirit swords’ of the Ansei – Saris has only encountered the occasional Redguard warrior and has not formed any lasting opinion of them.

Bretons:           Saris considers the Bretons as distant cousins, and feels quite comfortable sharing a meal with them. He turns a blind eye to the more blasphemous and mannish aspects of their culture, and rather hopes to connect with them on a personal level.

Orcs:                Saris knows little of the orcs, but has met several throughout his travels – generally of the worse sort. He dislikes any unsubtle buffoonery on their part, but resolves to treat it with tempered patience. The (bad) Daedra worshippers among them are odious to him, and it is from these orcs that he has extracted theories as to the continued existence of ‘Anticipations’ among the ordinary mer. Still, he gives individuals the chance to prove themselves of worth. He detests barbarism as a cultural expression, but is all the more amenable to the idea of an honourable orc who shucks his mould – something he sees as a reflection of the chimer-to-dunmer conversion, where a people can break out of their own skins and become something new.

Khajiit:             Saris regards the Khajiit with open curiosity. He theorises that they are ehlnofey who are bound to Aetherius in a more obvious way than the mer, and are thus noticeably sensitive to its fluctuations. Their moon phase metamorphosis intrigues him, and when in conversation with a khajiit, he will often press them to discuss it.
                        Their culture, for the most part, is completely foreign to him. ‘Brutality’ is a hard accusation to make as a dunmer, but he has heard enough about Rimmen to know that he should stay away. He is more interested in the nature of southern Elsweyr, which is seldom divulged in any great detail.

Factions:
House Indoril – The duties Saris owes to his house are very clear to him. His initial childish disrespect for responsibility and duty have fallen away over time, and he now understands the dunmer houses represent a unique network of individuals who rely on one another for companionship and support. He would never turn his back on one of the Indoril, and would go through hell to protect one of his own people.

House Telvanni – The profanity of the Telvanni wizards is not of any open appeal to Saris, but he certainly admires their brilliance. Though he has had little lasting contact with them, he has formed the opinion that their disregard for caution and contemplation has only merited them dangerous and unstable power.

House Dres –     Saris sees House Dres as the worst outcome of the False Gods’ straying from the Velothi Way. They have forsaken the general moderation acceptable to him in slave labour purely for the sake of profit and success in dunmer politics. Somewhat ashamed of them, Saris prefers to pretend House Dres does not exist.

House Redoran – Saris pities the fate of the Redoran, who he regards as one of the more devout houses of the dunmer people. Their continual trials have made them only a shadow of what they once were. Saris believes they deserve a second chance, and is eager to lend them aid however he can.

House Hlaalu – Saris acknowledges the necessity of imperial sympathisers, but that said, he is glad he was not born into House Hlaalu. He feels sorry that their contractual merchantry has not afforded them the same sense of kinship as House Indoril, as a family is a terrible thing to do without.

The Tribunal Temple – In his youth, Saris did his best to avoid the temple, seeing it as the inescapable fate he was bound to regardless of any personal feelings. After the Nerevarine Prophesies were fulfilled, however, his interest was piqued. Though he still preferred to spend his time in the company of Ranis, he no longer fought against fitting into the Indoril mould, and paid attention to his studies. He believes the old ways of the Tribunal Temple were hampering the people’s faith, while the new bring about a sense of trust and bonding.
                        In his later years, the Temple has become an integral part of him and his family which he feels sworn to protect.

The Morag Tong – Saris understands more than most that nothing ever truly dies, and that peace can only come when scores are settled and sins brought to balance. In this, he accepts the Morag Tong for what they are. Though he himself has never had anyone killed and probably would never do so out of principle, he understands why others have cause to. As Mephala is the anticipation of Vivec, so he sees that Murder is the crudest form of Mastery, yet undoubtedly linked to it. Ironically, he himself would rather connect Murder as the precursor to Mercy.
Saris has known others touched by the Black Hand, but has never been (officially) called to its service as of yet.

The Dark Brotherhood – As direct opponents of the Morag Tong despite their entwined history, Saris is interested in discovering who and what the Brotherhood really are. He struggles to see how the Brotherhood’s murders are seen as a corruption of the Tong’s when both simply trade gold for death. He understands that by various rites the Tong’s murders are sanctified, but if this is the only difference, why would the Hand risk war instead of simply altering their practises?
                        Saris has considered garnering the aid of various secret societies over the course of his adventures, as he is certain the truth behind Nirn, the gods and the daedra is being hidden from the citizens of the empire. He sees the brotherhood as an essential piece of this puzzle, predominately because of their relationship with Sithis – a concept wholly foreign to dunmer culture. If the opportunity were ever to present itself, he would infiltrate the Dark Brotherhood and do his best to spread disillusion amidst its ranks, plundering their secrets and hollowing out the organisation from the inside.
                        Additionally and on a more private note, Saris has negotiated a trade with Mephala: for information about Ranis’ killer, in exchange for a position of power at the head of The Dark Brotherhood.

The Mages Guild – Saris joined the mages guild and was a student of the Arcane University shortly before its fall. He developed numerous contacts and furthered his understanding of magic from an imperial perspective, and has remained amenable to the concept of a studious fraternity of mages. Though he was eventually struck from guild records after leaving his duties and accounts in Cyrodiil in arrears, he will reminisce over his time spent at The Arcane University with fond memories.

The Cult of Worms - While he does not disapprove of necromancy as a whole, he believes this cult has done a good deal to spoil its name. The worship of a ‘near ancestor’ such as Mannimarco goes far to show the dangers of Altmeri religion.

The Arcane College of Winterhold – Saris knows almost nothing about the Arcane College, other than that one of his old peers from the Mages’ Guild has set him up in contact with a nord who may be able to aid him in exacting his long-sought vengeance.

The Fighter’s Guild – The honourable practise of the guild of fighters was almost universally accepted by the empire as a just and honest cause, and Saris was among those to view them as such. He understands the need for men and women of action, and would be proud to be their comrade in arms.
                        However, Saris does not relish the thought of acting in consort with others in battle. The death of an ally is something he has never gotten used to.

The Arena:       Saris thinks it peculiar that the empire considers his own people as violent barbarians when they themselves make wagers on men’s lives for sport. That said, he has no trouble with the thought of participating in the events when his regular business runs dry. However, he prefers to be the one making the wagers to the one in the pit.


The Nine Divines: While he acknowledges the great good done by the Imperial Cult, Saris has difficulty setting aside the old prejudices instilled in him by the temple. He sometimes dismisses the Nine out of turn as beings lacking substance and practicality, though he would never intentionally mouth off about them to their worshippers. The fact that the Nine are invariably associated with aedra makes him weary – he even believes that their mute inaction in the face of all but the most trying events on Nirn speaks of their desire to let mortal souls remain in their earthbound state indefinitely.




Interpretations of Aldmeri Religion:

The Beginning Time:

Anuriel and Padomay are the original ancestors of all the animi (souls). Their reactions to Nir birthed two separate groups: Padomay’s Daedra, who represent darkness and sin, and are unchangeable in their false pursuit of change; and Anuriel’s Aedra, who represent light and virtue, and could truly change their whole selves into something completely different. Among these are debatable powers, such as Lorkhan, who may have been a Daedra even though he is commonly accepted as an Aedra.
Lorkhan used persuasion or trickery to inspire the Aedra in the manufacture of Mundus, the mortal world. They did not realise that this act would separate them from Aetherius, the source of all magicka, and turn them into mortals. The Et’ada are spirits who remained as gods. The Earth Bones are Aedra who died on Mundus and stayed there, becoming part of its natural laws (Lorkhan among them, cast out of Aetherius by the other Et’ada). The Ehlnofey are mortal Aedra, who slowly lost their power with the passing ages.

The Mer:
The Ehlnofey split into two people: ‘men’ accepted their fate, paid homage to the Et’ada and resigned themselves to Mundus. ‘Mer’ set out to reclaim their lost powers, and followed the Et’ada in the hopes of becoming like them again.
At some point the Daedra interceded. They took aside a group of mer and revealed that the Et’ada would never allow them to succeed in their quest, because Mundus had changed them and they would become more powerful than the Et’ada when they returned to Aetherius. They promised to show these ‘chimer’ the true way to godhood.

Daedra & Aedra:
In the past, mortals have risen to become both Et’ada and Daedric Princes. The extent to which this has happened is uncertain. This suggests that two kinds of spiritual ascension are possible, but the motives of the A&D are obscure and it is difficult to know which one would greater serve their designs.

Death:
After death, spirits can wander Mundus for a time (longer, if they dedicate themselves to a cause) in a state of 'Afterlife', before entering ‘The Dreamsleeve’: a path towards rebirth on Mundus in a new body. Unlike the Daedra, who are simply banished for a time, travel through the Dreamsleeve eradicates a portion of the animus’ memory. Theories concerning the falsity of Aldmeris and the actuality of a collage of ancestral memories inherited by the mer suggests that the animus ‘remembers’ things, even if unclearly.

Interpretations of The Tribunal Faith

When Saris traded in his sword for scripture, he spent years perfecting his personal ideas concerning the temple’s heirographa and apocrypha, and knit them into an ironclad doctrine from which to launch all further actions.

The Velothi Exodus:
Essentially the split between the Altmer and the Chimer people occurred when the altmer forsook ancestor worship and fell into shameful self-obsession, putting their own needs before those of Aurbis’ ‘purity’ (The original state, whereby the men & mer were once united as godly beings of infinite grace & wisdom). The Velothi left so they could begin society anew, living devout lives in reverence to the old ways. Saris highlights the fundamental pillars of this society as:

  • ·        Psijic endeavour: The active investigation into the nature of the ‘gods’ and the ‘daedra’, both of whom are the ancestor souls of Aurbis if not Mundus, in order to regain and surpass the lost purity of the Et’ada.
  • ·         Communal unity: Resisting the temptations of flesh and folly, which further sully the soul and distance it from purity, and splinter nations into irreconcilable fragments. This includes responsible architecture and state practise.
  • ·         Spiritual Unity: Acting as an ordered collective, and as such never thinking less of other beings under the understanding that alienation only succeeds in driving spirits away from one another and lengthens the period taken to ‘unite’ the souls of Nirn.


Once in Resdayn, matters were complicated by the presence of the nords and the dwemer, and so many chimer fell to the temptations of the ‘bad daedra’ of the ‘House of Troubles’; the power of the daedra lies in immortality at the cost of actual change – their very acceptance of the profanity of Mundus has cast them out of it, ensuring they never die, but return to the same flesh over the course of eternity and never progress past their corrupted state.
The ‘Good Daedra’ intentionally accepted certain corruptions for the power it gives, which in turn would allow them to actively communicate with their descendants and guide them along the path to spiritual rejuvenation. Worship of the ‘good daedra’ in turn allowed the chimer people to achieve an ordered society and progress towards their ultimate emancipation.

The ashlanders arose as a people following the directives of more recent versions of the ‘ordered state’ offered by the Daedra, while not bearing the same intentional corruption to their forms. These are ghosts, or ‘ancestor spirits’ who have not yet attained the purity of Aetherius and thus remain tangible on Mundus. They are purer than the daedra (though less powerful) and are thus worthy of imitation.
The Houses are by contrast those who saw power as a greater asset to spiritual progression than purity, and placed greater importance on the worship of the Good Daedra than on their direct ancestors.

The Tribunal:
After some time passed three chimer who had made particular success in their spiritual progression came to the fore, and tapped into a similar well of power to the one the Daedra had taken – they sacrificed their chance at purity for immortality and power, by which they would help their own people (now the dunmer) along the path to rejuvenation. They were for all intents and purposes ‘updated’ versions of the ‘Good Daedra’, who were less capricious and more openly helpful to their descendants. However, this act ruined one of the cornerstones of Veloth’s teachings – ancestors were no longer seen as equals in importance, but rather attentions were focused only on the Tribunal and those they declared their saints. The Tribunal declared the daedra were lesser ‘anticipations’ of their own forms, who bowed in deference to their authority, as would the ancestors. This and the original cost of the Tribunal’s corruption drove a wedge between the Houses, who worshipped the Tribunal, and the Ashlanders, who still paid homage to the Daedra and the ‘lesser’ ancestors.

The Sharmat:
Dagoth Ur was an unfortunate side effect of the Tribunal’s power source, much like the ‘Bad Daedra’ were of the Good Daedras’. He was a continuation of the darker forces of Aurbis, but of more immediate threat due to his direct connection to Nirn. Some misguided ashlanders worshipped him as they would the Bad Daedra, and others saw him as a force capable of cleansing Morrowind and re-establishing the fallen pillar of Velothi faith. Dagoth Ur’s connection to the Power of the tribunal was more reaching, however, and he bent knee to its influences and attempted to act out the profane goals of the dwemer, reviving the spirit of Lorkhan from its pitiful volcanic prison. Nerevarine’s triumph over Dagoth Ur was the triumph over the creeping corruption of Lorkhan’s Heart, simultaneously restoring the ancient Velothi Way and exposing the dangers of trading purity for power.

The Nerevarine:
Nerevar was the sacrifice by which the Tribunal corrupted itself and gained its immortality. The Nerevarine was the balancing force which would negate that sacrifice. While the Daedric corruption was achieved through indefinable acts, the transformation of the chimer tribune was flawed in one inexcusable way: they circumvented the opinions of the daedra rather than consult them and rely on their wisdom in the ways of corruption and how to resist it. Thus the corruption itself was not wrong, but the way the Tribunal went about attaining it. The result was a leadership that grew ever more prideful and refused to admit mistakes, and which slowly turned to the heart of Lorkhan without guidance in the means of its subversion.
Nerevarine was an agent of the lady Azura, who listened to her councils and achieved power by her say so. Thus he was a force that the tribunal were not – someone who upheld the wisdom of the ancestors and accepted lesser corruptions without falling to the temptations of the greater ones. He was thus a ‘new daedra’ of Nirn who had the purity of Veloth’s Way in its entirety.

The Dissident Priests:
The dissidents were a cult caught between two faiths: the rightful respect of the ancestors & the Daedra, and the worship of the Tribunal as forces of good leading the nation. They did both, but their awareness of certain truths allowed them to understand that the Tribunal’s apotheosis was not perfect and that without the ancestors to guide them they would spiral away from their own sanity.

The Dissident Priesthood represents what the Temple aught to be; a group who pay homage to the Good Daedra, to ALL their ancestors, to the virtuous acts of the tribunal and above all to truth before power.

The Modernised Tribunal Temple:
·        
  •      The first duty of the temple is to uphold the virtues that will result in the purification of the dunmer people, and assist them in honouring their ancestors and the Good Daedra.
  • ·         The second duty is to uphold the Truth, acknowledging the positive influence of the Tribunal and the Daedra while highlighting the differences between the two. It must be understood why the Tribune were only ‘false’ gods, and that this  meant only one of the three pillars of the Velothi Way were twisted, and the tribunal should be honoured for upholding the others.
  • ·         The third duty is to watch for potential manifestations of the triune way; in other words, the mortal manifestations of Mercy, Mastery, and Mystery, who will gain godly power in exchange for corruption, and resist falling to it with the guidance of their ancestors.


The Red Year & The Argonian Invasion:

Saris firmly believes that forces are always brought to balance, and the current misfortune of the Dunmer people is a direct result of their failure to uphold the Velothi Way under the Tribunal. When the moon Baan Dar crashed into Vivec City, it was a delayed tragedy that was bound to the dunmer no matter what era it occurred in, though holding back the force for so long resulted in more terrible consequences. The Argonian Invasion was a result of the desultory treatment of other beings similarly tricked by Lorkhan, and the Houses’ desire for power, wealth & pleasure are directly responsible. Had they lived as simply as the ashlanders or the Temple faithful, no invasion could have occurred.

Saris’ Place in the Temple:
As one naturally attuned to his ancestors, Saris communicates the cautions and guidance offered by the spirits to his people. He has immaculate knowledge of the ancient scriptures, as well as knowledge of the daedra, should it be required. He is also capable enough that he has led priests on righteous quests in the past in the effort to rout corruption and devilry from Morrowind. His steadfast devotion makes him a candidate for sainthood, though the greatness of his deeds are yet to be measured.


His Ancestors:  
Saris has an unusually strong connection to his ancestors, which is what prompted his parents to insist he join the Tribunal Temple. Several of his bloodline have chosen to stay behind for one reason or another, and as the last descendant of an ancient family they all watch over him and make their presence felt. Saris never saw the spirits as significant to any specific calling until after Ranis died, when he realised how lucky he was to have a connection to any of the dead. It was then that he stopped seeing them as passing amusements and actually started listening to their advice, quickly learning much about dunmer history, the virtues of the temple, and the ways to survive in the chaos of the early fourth era.
The ways his ancestors affect his life vary. Those who once lost themselves in the Ghostfence are freed from their immediate trapping, but continue to exist throughout Mundus and can be manipulated to bolster magical barriers. Some of his ancestors are worn as enchantments and blessings, while others take on corporeal semblances of more immediate use. The last are those who have passed more recently, and who Saris has some knowledge of as actual people.

Tholer Saryoni: The famed archcanon became Saris’ main tutor in the temple’s practices after The Red Year. He seeks him out frequently for moral guidance and spiritual support. Tholer rarely makes an appearance in combat unless Saris is in dire need.

Sardis Saryoni:  Saris never had the chance to make peace with his father during his life, but in death they found the mutual respect they had always desired. Sardis rarely responded to summoning, and stayed beside Saris’ mother for most of his Afterlife before finally passing on into the dreamsleeve.

Hainab Zaibat:   Hainab is Saris’ favourite grandfather, a streetwise rogue who left the ashlander tribe of his birth and seduced a noble of House Indoril. He was officially struck out of the family histories when his true bloodline became clear, but his spirit persists to watch over his kin and make sure they are aware of their ancient heritage. When he was younger Saris was advised to ignore his grandfather, but when he realised Hainab would share information with him when his parents wouldn’t, they struck up a rapport and conversed often. Hainab is always ready to help out in a fight and is usually Saris’ first choice as a battle companion.
                        Because of Hainab’s influence, Saris was much quicker to adapt to the worship of the Nerevarine and the apocrypha than other House Dunmer. He also has a link with his more ancient ashlander ancestors.

Zenas Saryoni:  Zenas was a noblewoman who unwittingly married an ashlander and disgraced her family, though she made it up to them by annulling her marriage and removing her children from her husband’s presence. She never answered to Saris until the death of his father, at which time she informed him of his duties to his family and the responsibilities that passed to him as the last of the Saryoni line. Saris has never liked her much, and avoids her councils when he can.

Bovyn Venim:   A cousin to the Indoril raised by House Redoran, Bovyn is a shrewd battlemaster who fought in many important battles and holds the Tribunal Teachings dear. He has made it clear that he is only staying within Mundus so long as his kin are up to something interesting, and so he has attached himself singularly to Saris to aid him in combat and help him master the martial arts. For this reason Bovyn prefers to be summoned into a body with more substance than mere spectral flesh.

Fendryn Girith: Saris’ great grandfather is a mysterious character who offers little in the way of advice. When summoned he will not talk of matters with any particular significance, but rather ensure Saris is aware of the things currently happening around him, and without any particular push show that all matters on Tamriel are connected in some way. Oddly, Fendryn does not appear wholly dark elven, and was known to be an orphan raised by the temple before being adopted into House Indoril. His destructive magic runs on the colder side, and his physical semblance is too fragile to hold together an unliving body.

Idayn Venim:     Though she is truly his aunt, Idayn has always seemed to Saris to be a little sister. Idayn passed away as a child, and has stayed behind to live the life she never had through her nephew. They were playmates as children, though never when Saris’ parents were around, and Idayn often prompts Saris to summon her so they can adventure together. Idayn prefers to appear as a spirit and cast magic than to adopt a physical form, but she does so when she is feeling adventurous.

Ranis Athryn
Ranis was Saris’ childhood friend and later, his lover. His devotion to her was once greater than that to the tribunal temple, and though he was happy his affair distracted him from his studies, and was seen by his parents as a nuisance hampering his potential and his future as a priest. They organised for Saris to go to Vivec City, where they hoped he would live a more focused life, while Ranis’ own parents sent her to study under a Telvanni sorceress in Necrom.
Saris kept in contact with Ranis, though before the end of the year The Oblivion Crisis exploded. Saris’ love was enough to make him desert his rank as an ordinator-in-training when he heard Necrom had fallen under siege. When he arrived, he found out that Ranis had been killed by a Dremora Kynreeve in a battle of sorcery, and that the kynreeve had retreated back to Oblivion. With his heart torn open, Saris swore vengeance, and his energies took on a new direction: though he could communicate with his own ancestors, he could not do so with Ranis. He turned to the study of necromancy to enhance his pre-existing connection to the world of the dead, and joined the war on Oblivion with the hope of encountering the Kynreeve and bringing it to justice. His efforts were fruitless, and eventually his marauding ended as the Oblivion Gates shut and he was cut off from any chance at retribution.
Saris continued his dual study of the Aedra & Daedra with burning passion, and began to suspect darker workings within the forces of both. He suspected that Ranis’ soul had been trapped by the hated Kynreeve, and was being held in a black soulgem where it was cut off from any hope of spiritual ascension. Saris studied conjuration for five years at the Arcane University, but it was not enough to pierce the temporarily strengthened wards between the worlds. Saris then pivoted, turning back to Morrowind & The Temple, drowning himself in the faith in an effort to forget his sadness and his oaths until such a time as they could be fulfilled.
These twined passions soon became iconic of Saris’ life. If times of frustration or despair, he would lose himself in the teachings of the temple, hoping to put himself beyond the pains of mortal life and the sorrow of love lost. But at the slightest hope, his desperate ambitions would flare and he would pit himself against the study of magic and the forces of Oblivion.
After two hundred years, the dichotomy of his soul has come close to uniting into a complementary unit. He has the calm and focused devotion of a religious mer, and the willpower and determination of a being singularly driven.
Rescuing Ranis Athryn is his way at striking back at the forces of evil. It is him showing that his youth was not misspent – that love is an essential and often overlooked attribute of spiritual purity, by which souls are united into a greater force – in essence, defying Lorkhan’s segregation of the Ehlnofey from the divine spark. Some day, with Ranis beside him, he will walk on into the heavens of Aetherius.

Personality:
Ranis had the same inborn talent as Saris, but in different areas of expertise. From a young age, her parents had her schooled by the finest mages and sorcerers of Mournhold, culminating in her eventual acceptance as an apprentice of House Telvanni. Her parents were not as overbearing as the Saryonis about Indoril loyalty and devotion to the tribunal, and hoped that she would be adopted into the Telvanni, who held their power even as the other houses’ waned.
Ranis was curious, adventurous, and passionate, throwing herself headfirst into everything she did. She didn’t uphold the stringent dunmer moralities as law, being something more of an imperial citizen who cared deeply about racial equality and imperial cooperation. Her dream was to one day serve on Tamriel’s Elder Council and bring the attention of the emperor to the Great Houses’ internal strife.
Intellectually, Saris and Ranis debated constantly with one another over the old and new perceptions of the dunmer people, Saris opting for tradition and the necessity of near-treason within their government, and Ranis for the ordered chain of command honoured by imperial law. Personally, they loved one another dearly, and knew that neither of their opinions had any value as long as they continued to be together.


The Kynreeve Achevach Naesarkas

Achevach has carved out an authority for himself in Dagon’s plane by making a particular study into living flesh and how best to destroy it. He started as a churl in service to the Xivilai lord Kavabocsh, and after many incarnations was placed on the forefront of The Shade Perilous, where he encountered his first mortal and gained a taste for its death. Given the lack of true mortals within the reaches of Oblivion, Achevach developed a sort of involuntary lichdom, drawing from bacterial samples of Polymorphic Haemophilia and the rare cure to the disease held by Molag Bal. The procurement of this cure has cost him several debts which he has yet to pay back to that Prince.

When Dagon rallied his forces for the invasion of Tamriel, Achevach was placed under the command of a Kynmarcher charged with razing Necrom to the ground. Ecstatic at the thought of acquiring souls and flesh for experimentation, Achevach volunteered to lead the strike force into Tamriel itself.
After passing through a rent in the city’s walls, Achevach encountered magical resistance from the Telvanni compound. He slew a score of the masters, harvested their souls and had his scamps drag their bodies back to the Oblivion Gate. At this point, Ranis Athryn appeared with a dozen apprentices at her side, and blasted the Kynreeve with an assortment of elemental assaults. Achevach was banished, but not before releasing one of his flesh-eating enchantments. Most of those who followed Ranis survived, but she herself was consumed and her soul quickly snatched aside by Achevach as he fell screaming into the The Darkness.

When he returned, he still held Ranis tortured soul, and set it inside a soulgem for select experimentation and punishment. Ranis was revived into living flesh, only to have it burnt away periodically at Achevach’s whim.
For a long while after Dagon’s defeat, the Dremora’s ranks were left in turmoil, and Achevach struggled to hold on to his position. After watching his Kynmarcher suffer increasingly embarrassing defeats at the hands of his equals, Achevach slew him in secret and took his place. He led his new citadel to victory, and fuelled an overwhelming understanding of destruction with the tortured souls of mortals.
Eventually, Achevach’s successful governance saw him elected to the Markyn, where he was feared and respected as a lord of lords.



Saris Oath:
Over the years, Saris has made some progress in discovering who killed Ranis and how to put him within his grasp. He started with only the accounts of Ranis’ fellow apprentices, which unanimously told of her bravery in amassing them and striking what they saw as a Daedric general as he turned his head. They described him as a spellcaster, unarmoured and wielding a thin bone staff. His rank and file splintered quickly after his banishment.

  • ·         During one of the sieges on an Oblivion Gate, Saris discovered the name of the Citadel that was pitted against Necrom: Kamarlivel.
  • ·         Using one of the summoning circles at the Arcane University, Saris bound a scamp named Echard who had fought in the Siege of Necrom. He learned the name of the Kynmarcher who had led the siege; Nyrmov.
  • ·         His attempt to reach Oblivion through Umbriel was at best a shot in the dark, and had no direct success. However, the pursuit led him to Mephala’s wasted altar on the shores of The Scathing Bay, and it was there that he made his first bargain with a Daedric Prince. Mephala demanded his utmost subtlety in exchange for answers about his quarry – to do no less than infiltrate the highest ranks of The Dark Brotherhood, and once there, to take lives only as she instructed. In exchange for the initial oath Mephala gave him the names of the four Kynreeve who had served under Nyrmov.
  • ·         After completing his lengthy pilgrimage, Saris returned to Mournhold and gleaned what information he could from his latest clue. By grace of conjuration he discovered that two of the Kynreeve had since lost their positions and were demoted to caitiffs, and these he ruled out as having been elsewhere during the siege. Two remained. Achevach, who had ascended so far through the ranks that it was difficult to gain any information about him directly, and Hyrados, the subtlest Kyn Saris had ever encountered, whose charges feared and despised him with equal fervour. It is Hyrados who Saris is focusing his energies on now.

Sunday, 11 September 2011

Aurbis and its Extremities:


An inaccurate map of the TES universe. The rainbow is a rough idea of the Daedric Principalities, which are actually described as 'bubbles' within Aetherius. Furthur detail on Mundus, right in the middle, has not been added, but there should be a 'wheel within the wheel' resembling the provinces, and of course the P.C.

Saturday, 10 September 2011

More fun with the communicative entitlements of the internet

Ok, so here's a discussion I've been having with this Mortimer Bachton character who frequents the TES threads on Facebook:




  • Mortimer Bachton
    I am definitely on the Stormcloak rebellion side. But not because of some ignorant compulsion to blindly support a rebellious or anti-authoritarian movement.

    I fully support the right a nation has to sustain cultural homogeneity and regulate its sovereign legacy. I oppose enforcing multiculturalism, or enforcing multi-ethnic imperialism. Independence is a right and a virtue.


  • 6li7ch
    /\ If your independence is dependent on the independence of a nation, then you are always dividually dependent, and never independent individually.

    I dislike the Mede Empire, and I don't know enough about the Stormcloaks to swear loyalty. I'd join both, and play them against one another to mutual benefit. You know, keeping things fair. Independence is rarely a matter of strength of arms anyhow.


  • Mortimer Bachton
    My statement made it sufficiently clear I was referring to the independence of a nation, not the independence of an individual.


  • 6li7ch
    Indeed you did - wonderfully clear. I then responded with an unnecessarily vague statement commenting on the sad nature of nationalism; that in order to have a right and virtuous nation, one often has to sacrifice the rightness and virtue of the individual self.

    Look! I just did it again!


  • Mortimer Bachton
    Not a vague statement - it was just tangential. It was essentially your brain leaking an arbitrary thought.

    As for your second statement.... Well, there is always compromise between personal liberty and public responsibility in civilized society. A nationalist perspective doesn't actually change that. Also, it is not inherently 'sad'. Quite the opposite. That a collective group of people with a communal legacy are entitled to sustain a unified cultural identity is actually very rational, straightforward, and benign.


  • 6li7ch
    Hey! Don't arbitrate the arbitrariness of my statements! :P

    Nothing was leaking anywhere. The statement was perfectly cohesive when my whole post is taken into consideration: acting out of a sense of personal rectitude under any government is as virtuous as being part of a localised collective identity.

    And I stand by my nifty sentence structure; it is inherently SAD that Nationalism OFTEN means a sacrifice of individual identity.

    (see what I did there, highlighting the two linked words? I mixed a definite with an indefinite, so just as it is sad that some kittens die, the fact that most kittens live doesn't make the fact that some die any less sad. For the kittens, at least. Unless you are a cat murderer or a suicidal kitten or - ok, now THIS is tangential.)

    I'd like to add that, YES, I agree with you! However those who do not feel wholly comfortable in their ancestral mold should be able to adopt their own cosmopolitan culture, wherever they feel the most comfortable doing so. Imperial taxation and registration sucks, but so does hogging the lush natural beauty of Skyrim and declaring it a residence purely for Nedic citizens.


  • Mortimer Bachton
    With or without a nationalistic perspective (let's define that simply as adopting and supporting your host nation's cultural identity), you will be compromising your individual identity. Because nationalism does not restrict it - society itself does.

    Because that's more or less the function of civilisation: the imposition of law and order by obligation of public responsibility, restricting and regulating personal liberty.


  • 6li7ch
    Ok. But to add a parameter for myself - and I encourage you to disagree and go do something better with your time without being persuaded what-so-ever by my ramblings - it is theoretically possible to have a citizen who feels completely at ease with the laws of both society and national identity, and therefore cannot be compromised.

    Arguably, nationalism cannot exist without society, ergo society exists within every nationality. One's individuality can (again, theoretically) be aligned with society without being aligned to a specific nationality, hence we have socially-friendly politicians (ha ha) who do not approve of a country's national practices, and seek to change them with the aid of society.

    Hence the solution of joining both the Legion and the Stormcloaks - both are societies, but they have opposing nationalities. One is cosmopolitan, the other exclusive. Ironically these adjectives show their INDIVIDUAL political stance, which must both be compromised to create a lasting continental civilisation.

    For example, the Legion asks you to collect taxes from a Stormcloak-governed city. You go against the laws of both by raising the money yourself (mixing 1000 'Restore Fatigue' potions and selling them cheap to an alchemist) and giving it to the Legion. You are finding an individual solution to the needs of two conflicting parties, and all to the benefit of society.

    What was I getting at? Oh yeah. Just because someone is 'individual' doesn't make them selfish in the classic sense of the word. Some individuals like it when other people are happy.
    So long as everyone realised they are making their own choices - under threat or coercion or not - they can rest assured they have an identity, even though it may not be one they are particularly proud of.

    (I realise it is likely our definitions of words are clashing at this point. Please substitute one word [like 'society'] with the other ['nationality'] just to be sure we aren't arguing the same thing.)

    How cool would it be do debate this stuff with Dragon Shouts!?!


  • Elrich Lestrange
    #inoverhishead

    I think my own topic has slipped out of my reach... and even with the countless time I have spent on here and reading lore and loving these games, and knowing my stuff in many other areas of expertise... perhaps I should just stick to studying chemistry. I am at a loss, and have no business on this forum with this 6li7ch.


  • 6li7ch
    Hee hee.

    Free time does one wonders.


  • Mortimer Bachton
    "it is theoretically possible to have a citizen who feels completely at ease with the laws of both society and national identity"

    Of course - that isn't even theoretical. That's typical. The majority of humans support their nation's culture AND societal law. The two have fundamentally similar purposes after all.

    " and therefore [their identity/liberty] cannot be compromised."

    Incorrect. By supporting societal law, you ARE having your liberty compromised. A human's personal liberty is restricted the instant they decide to participate in human civilisation.

    For example:

    Do you have the freedom to walk down the street naked defecating in public? No. You'd be arrested for public indecency. That is a restriction of your freedom, one obliged to you for the benefit of others. As a participant of human civilisation, you are willingly allowing your liberty to be restricted and regulated to create law and order.

    Whether a person supports their nation's cultural identity is irrelevant to this phenomenon. No matter the context, if you wish to exist in civilisation, you have restrictions on your personal freedom that you must obey. Period.

    *

    Now, you go on to discuss how a person can associate with society but not a nation. To avoid confusion, that can be explained in less vague terms. Most humans, regardless of the country they live in, share a majority of ethical codes. For example: Most of us, no matter where we live, instinctively feel that murder, rape, and theft are wrong.

    And that's obvious of course, because the fundamentals of human morality are biologically derived and perpetuated, not memetically.


  • Mortimer Bachton
    This conversation is starting to implode - we are experiencing a communication breakdown, and as you said - it's because we are defining and using terms differently. Which is fine, but it's creating convolution.

    Your final paragraphs, for example, are obviously true, and I never said anything remotely close to disputing them. :/

  • Perhaps debating this in Dragon Shouts IS a good idea. One could only hope there'd be less discrepancy in terminology.

    :P


  • 6li7ch
    Yeah, a fireball is a fireball, even if you don't duck. ;)

    Ok, aside from our perspectives on majority and minority opinions (which would only change after doing a lengthy public census), We're almost on the same page. Almost.

    The main difference right now is also perceptive, but far easier to mutually disagree upon. You see, I feel perfectly free to go outside and defecate on the street (urhg. How unsanitary. I would never actually do this). I'm FREE to do it.

    HOWEVER I also acknowledge that there is a consequence. I'm not particularly bothered by that. Everything has consequences, and all consequences are imposed - if not by people, then by the very forces of reality. Frostbite and dysentery await public defaecators.
    After acknowledging this, identity is no longer a matter of what you think you can and cannot do. It's what you WANT to do. Your desires, your phobias, so forth.
    Liberty doesn't equate to identity.

    This theoretical person is at ease with social and nationalist laws, so they have no desire to act against them or to do anything but uphold them. Their identity is their country's identity, and therefor the only way to compromise them-self would be to act AGAINST their country's laws.
    In short, society provides additional consequences to actions, but cannot restrict those actions themselves.

    I'd agree with the basic laws of human nature (no rape, murder or theft is acceptable, mimetically motivated or otherwise), but by the very fact that we can perceive a society that doesn't hold these attributes as canon (most Orcs, for example) I cannot in good faith agree that society is reliant on contemporary ethics.

    I'm glad that it is, but I have to admit it may not always be.

    Thus, to me, ethics are part of a national identity rather than a social identity, even if that nation consists of the entire human race.

    I'd recommend ignoring the last part, because I need to invent a third word to juggle the various concepts and it is high time I went to feed my dog.


    • Mortimer Bachton
      Wait - what? Public defecation would result in dysentery?!

      o_O

      If your excretory habits are putting you at risk of that disorder, whether in private or public, you are doing something ALARMINGLY wrong good sir.

      ....

      Anyway.

      Establishing the obvious differences between ability VS desire to do something was unnecessary. Obviously we all have the CAPACITY to walk naked and shit in public, that's irrelevant. When I said you couldn't walk naked and shit in public, that was framed within the context of our discussion: personal freedom VS societal law. You DON'T have the personal freedom to walk naked in public [free from negative societal consequence].

      Alas, our communication breakdown appears to be continuing. :( I never actually suggested ethics are contemporary. I said they were biologically derived, in fact. Morality is evolutionary instinct programmed into our genetic memory. It is very, very OLD - and fundamentally immutable.

      And yes - identity is not the same as liberty. The context we have been discussing them is the LIBERTY to express one's personal IDENTITY.

      *sigh*

      I am enjoying this conversation but we are experiencing an unfortunately frequent amount of communication failure. :(


    • 6litch


      The word 'contemporary' always gets me in trouble. It's a right pity I love it so much.

      Con - With

      Temporarius - Of time

      Effectively translatable as "sharing the same time as"

      By which I meant to say that ethics evidently share the same time and space as humanity, no matter what date either are present in. Whether genetics is ethics cause or otherwise are both completely plausible to me. The only scientific fault is to deny the possibility of something.

      SO.

      Dysentery sounded appropriately disgusting and people have the propensity to avoid it. I wasn't being literal. 

      In the whole identity/liberty thing, I was looking at this:

      " and therefore [their identity/liberty] cannot be compromised."

      You inserted the possibility of both into one of my comments (I meant identity) and then proceeded to elaborate on only one, so I considered it a possibility you saw them both as the same entity. Stranger things have happened.

      Hmm. Perhaps there's a simple way to get my message across. Ooh! I know!

      "If your independence is dependent on the independence of a nation, then you are always dividually dependent, and never independent individually."

      The "Independent Individual" embodies Personal Freedom. "Dividual Dependence" is Societal Law.

      With a bit of work:

      If Personal Freedom is dependent on Societal Law, then your Identity is a reflection of Societal Law, and never Personal Freedom.

      Gosh, that kinda makes sense. Of course I'd need to add the parameters of the 'theoretical citizen'.

      It's 'Murder by Numbers'. Personal Freedom can only be measured by one's willingness to pursue their individuality regardless of civil consequence.

      Whether that pursuit destroys the society or simply changes it falls in perfectly with the question of ethics, and thus genetics.


    • 6li7ch
      Gasp! I missed an apostrophe!

      *shame*

    Goodness, I love debates. Even the circular kind that never seems to go anywhere. Trust me, it is. I'm learning about another person's mental lexicon, which is a very important thing for a writer (and librarian) (and human being) (I shouldn't use parenthesis so much) to do.

    There was more to follow, but it was primarily derogatory. I shall not repeat it. It is disappointing when two minds do not fit together.

Thursday, 8 September 2011

A letter in remorse

Dear Malcolm,

I didn’t mean for it to happen. I did not see you for more than an instant, a darting black flash in my rear view mirror... or just in front of it... before our cruel fates collided: hard, fast, and unchangeable. I stopped. I saw you leaping frantically, struggling against the pain of your broken limbs. You stopped, sat huddled and bent over, and I cannot imagine what the aftermath was like for you. I wanted to scream. How could this have happened? What uncaring force could have led us to this needless agony?

I found your parents, after some searching. Your father cradled you in his arms, and I saw blood seeping from everywhere; your half-open mouth, your staring yellow eyes, your nose. I imagined you were dying fast, but I was wrong.

Your jaw was broken, and your lungs had filled with blood. You lived, for a while. Three days, which I can only hope were peaceful, and gave you time to say goodbye to everything you knew.

This letter is an apology. It is a confirmation of my deepest remorse for taking your life, and for the sad confirmation that it was unintentional. If the universe knows balance, it would be cruel: I would gladly even things out by suffering through the same pointless pain as you did – but I hope you never have to feel the sorrow I do now.

Let us hope that balance, rather than a measure of one pain against another, will prove to be one of our combined pain against joy. We are mutually tethered, you and I. In some life, at some time past or future point, we share a brighter, happier moment together. I make too many oaths on the name of eternity, but I own you one, at the very least.

To compassion, and to release.

Rest easy, brother.

Saturday, 3 September 2011

The best joke ever.




A spud farmer bent on world domination invents a nuclear warhead powered by citric acid. He goes out to celebrate, and when he comes back, he finds out his wife has baked him a feast of jacket potatoes.


"Egads!" he cries, "My plants have been foiled!"




Ok, maybe it isn't that great, but I'm proud of it anyway.

Thursday, 1 September 2011

To my invisible readers

You are ever on my mind. I haven't posted in a while because I get sidetracked easily and ooh! Look over there!

Where was I? Oh yes. Side-tracked easily. Ahem.

Well, the half-finished slush I have right now includes but is not limited to:


  • Fight or flight mechanisms.
  • What to do with a time machine.
  • Drug use in the 21st century: why everyone is brain dead.
  • A 20 000 word character creation summary for my Elder Scrolls characters.
  • A twelve part history of the whole process of creation.
  • Conceptual blabber about a telepathy/telekinesis-based video game.
  • A tell-all journal written by the first human on Reltash to discover magick.
  • A million other things I haven't even started yet.
So bear with me, non-existent people. I'll get there eventually. After I find that thing I was looking at at the beginning of this post.

Thursday, 14 July 2011

The Sentinel

When you stare at a rock for long enough, this happens:


I name you Sentinel - you, who have stood for millennia and will continue to stand enduring upon your one stout foot for millennia uncountable until the quagmire wade of snail-flesh and bullet-drop rainfall grind you to dust. I can see your wasted form reflected in a high mountain of similar noble bearing, plunging into the fragile, glass-like eternity of open air like a diver, earth clinging to your limbs and distorting them until all that is visible is a chunk of arched shoulder, a tucked-in head, the goose-flesh vertebra of a spine. Flakes of your bleached brown skin have excoriated and spirited away in a thousand directions, and chipped-clean wounds of grey muscle are baldly glaring at the sky. In the shallow lines of your featureless head verdegris clings like close-shaven hair, mingling darkly in the cavernous gorges which play about your under regions. For a moment I lose perspective and am lost within the ochre desert beneath your shoulder, wandering dry riverbeds bone-white, flowing into one another in meandering lines from a single crescent Nile atop a ridge, and below the rivers run like a starburst branded into your thigh. My sojourn is not over. At once the starburst rips itself from the desert floor and pummels the sky, rivers flooding lithely around a serpentine body, an ivory frill bursting from the neck and a minute head shining fiercely with green eyes. We fly into a forest of dirty, mired trees. The ground has turned to black powder in the absence of water. The hunched trees, so much like beggars with gnarled fingers outreaching, fall inward upon themselves in heavy clouds of dark green dust, hollow and crippled by touch. This waterless swamp is cut by a labyrinth of ploughed lines, testament to the passing of long dead leviathans who shambled through in happier times. I continue west - west if the omnidirectional world of the rock could be given bearing, and I come across a black ocean turned to sand, cut deep with ravines which glisten as my every footfall causes an avalanche of granules, tumbling over one another in a continuous wave as though some flat and furtive animal were retreating into the depths. I cross this perpendicular facet of the Sentinel and slowly the ground revolves until I am a needlepoint perpendicular to the ground, an axis to a rough-hewn globe at the base of the Sentinel's spine. Dusk is falling, birds are in chorus to the song of city traffic, singing lullabies to one another in whoops, chirrups and twitters. If the rock-painted world of the Sentinel has a moon, this orbital cratered in a sheathe of stone is it, glowing brightly with reflections of a tempestuous element it refuses to know completely. The Sentinel is weeping now. Its high shoulder blade has been gored and a black stain seeps from the cradle by its thick neck, running down to where it makes war with the skeletal river-dragon, who dives up, emblazoned upon the Sentinel’s chest as a being of flashing limbs and sanguineous combat. At once the sentinel despairs, shade-cloaked, ghostly hands perched upon its down-turned head like feasting wraiths. Silently he asks, “Will I ever return to earth’s embrace? Or will I float here in this chilling air, locked in eternity, shrinking ever smaller and watching the world grow past unfathomable proportions?” How does one comfort a stone? As my eyes fail in the deepening murk of light I break my vigil for a moment to pour electric fire into the icy abyss. The Sentinel responds at once through the phantasmal doppelganger projected on the glass between us. Its spine is blasted into definition, and every scar is made visible in an intersecting constellation. At once the world of the Sentinel erupts in a shower of white-hot magma to become a universe of starless chasms and dusty nebula, the auroral outline of its arched back bordered by a void unknowing. I see its eye, a pinprick in a wide oval, as shocked as I am to see it staring. Before the Sentinel was full, hard and solid with close-knit particles. Now it has let down its guard and the flesh of the rock falls away. Its marrow remains – those bony vertices shine like the fringe-geometry of a diamond, and like a diamond they are similarly hollowed, invisible against the fossilised remains of the creature coming to life before my eyes. It is a dinosaur, head slavishly bowed with grinning jowls grazing the floor, a twisting stem of short and long limbs bent in jaunty motion as it slinks around, every time I look at it a new feature despoils the last and it moves every reflection in the window is as startling as a villain whose appearance has contributed to the reptilian Sentinel’s sudden dance. It is suddenly free to meet the tidal beat of the city, free from the acute scrutiny of the sun’s glare, free in the questionable and permissive possibilities of night. I close my eyes and let it walk where it wills, unwilling to chain it in place with suggestive bindings of scientific reality.
When I look again, It has resumed its rigid pose as a diver, glowing gold in the morning light. The seasoning of green clustered beneath every overhang of flaky rock appears luminous, be telling of wilder times when jungles rather than gardens were held in the Sentinel’s aura. Now it is bare-faced. Sheer and magnificent sediment thrusting up from a docile matrix of purple-stemmed leaves and lazy fronds, its tip crowned by the orange crests of blade-beaked clivias. The constellations which had shone so brightly last night have faded, retreated back to their true form as shaved abrasions, tan on brown cut by the occasional giraffe-print of black grime. I ponder the Sentinel’s umbral transformation, and see the disconnected and fracturous images of the being who has now retreated into an earthy cocoon. I move, sundering my two-dimensional reality in a need to find knew ways to define the Sentinel. On the far side of its spine a sheer diagonal ramp cuts an ascent from the floor, routinely marred by thick ridges of stone bent upwards like discomfited scales. Colours contrast sharply here, black rock against avian excrement, bleached ridges, a floral fungus curled like an unliving flower in the shade. There are no stories here. My eyes refuse to find purchase safely in soil and dirt, ever a tomb for the inanimate and unfeeling. Perhaps the Sentinel is free to tunnel through these dark places, becoming a dream creature once again until distant times when it is scoured and surfaced completely, like the distant moon categorised into set phases and harried by all. I hope it is so. Half an incarceration may dull its eternity. Shadows flutter across its back and solar effusions creep along slowly, burrowing into its thick carapace with futile designs to conquer the stunning cold at its centre. I touch the rough exterior and the texture is like sandpaper as cold as glass, the friction is powerful, holding me in place where I can see minute featherings of moss thicker than I had thought, so they truly are swathes of hairy jungle bound upon a crumpled map. The shadows are held in a similar fashion, falling into the dips and bowls of the rockface and hanging there like delicate bats. This thing – this Sentinel I name lifeless – is in itself an inspiration to life, its craters fill up with it and overflow, spilling imagined dimensions across its whole self until its self is lost and no longer. It becomes a world, it is possibility and yet a manifestation of the improbable. Every vertex has a unique geography, every clef swarms with bacterial life.

Monday, 27 June 2011

Chatting with a shadow

What follows is a conversation I had with a person (alias 'High House Shadow') while he was sending endless waves of rancorous troops to attack my village on the network game site 'Tribal Wars'. Despite his clear devotion to game mechanics, there is something to be learnt in the text.



High House Shadow today at 01:36

Hi there. I suppose my intentions are fairly obvious... Nothing personal bud. :)


6li7ch today at 14:59

Of course it's personal. We're persons, aren't we?

I hope you have fun imagining the electronic screams of my poor defenceless villagers.

Have a nice day!


High House Shadow today at 17:16

*Chuckles* That is an amusing image. 
By the way... why don't you have a wall? D:


6li7ch today at 17:28

Well, no-one was attacking me. I didn't really need one before now.

High House Shadow today at 17:29

mmh... well you can't rely on your ability to build a wall after someone starts attacking you! XP


That thing can take like six hours a level when it gets higher up. =/



6li7ch today at 17:38

To be honest I wasn't expecting such a swift and focused attack from in-land so soon. You also happened to catch me on a day when my modem was down, lucky fella. I would have given a much swifter response if the universe hadn't decided to send a massive thunderstorm my way.

Anyways, best of luck to you - and just so you know, I wasn't a threat to you in any way. Attacking people is a dreadfully unmannerly thing to do.



High House Shadow today at 17:41

D'oh. Sorry about that mate; I wasn't aware of your modem. That was a bit of a low blow. =/ Nothing I can do about that, however.

And... well, this is tribal wars], bud, not tribal hugs. :P To get stronger, I have to take others out. From your village I'll be in a great position to take out that MANIC cluster you have right next to you. :3



6li7ch today at 17:59

Sigh.

Gn0me tried to point out the exact same thing, but I couldn't really see his side. One may as well name life 'survival' and insist that the only option available to us is to kill and dominate in order to achieve that end. Perhaps you've never played Bioshock, or read 'The Lord of the Flies'?

You see, we all make choices. What others expect our choices to be are besides the point. You are the one with the button in front of you. You chose to push it.

Just as I chose to join this world to make the option to push that button available, but refused to undergo that essential final action.

I do not hate you, and you have nothing to apologise for. I do not even pity you. Your choices are yours, and mine are mine, regardless of the name we give our game.





High House Shadow today at 18:05

Oh, I love bioshock. However, this game only really has two options; kill or be killed. I suppose you could even last for a time on pure defense... but by chosing not to prepare for the eventual attack that will, you dig your own grave. =/

I am... not certain why you would mention not pitying me, for I am playing this game as it was meant to be played and no pity is due the victor.

...Still. You talk as if it were too late. It isn't, you know. You could still give me a run for my money, if you're good; but it would be difficult and in all likelihood would end the same. Still, nothing's impossible. I've seen much more unlikely scenarios.



6li7ch today at 18:24


Bioshock has four options if you include yours: kill or be killed, and whether or not you save the Little Sisters. One reflects the goal of the game (staying alive & escaping Rapture) while the other reflects how you go about achieving that goal (co-operation or domination)

I would argue that the same exists for this game. If the players weren't so focused on the perception of the arena as one of bloodshed, co-operation could easily ensure no-one dies and the game is perpetuated eternally. Think of it as a figurative paradise which due to a technicality of human nature cannot reach fruition. In a balanced world attackers and defenders would be equally matched, and we would be trapped in a glorious place of eternal conflict - rather than eternal stagnation under total dominion or total co-operation.

You misunderstand my offer of pity, and why it was withheld. If anything were pitiable, it would be that you believe you are acting the way you are supposed to because someone else told you it is so, rather than finding your own reason to do so. I withhold my pity until you give me permission to do so because you may already be aware of this, and I cannot fully ascertain that your actions are that of a 'slave' (in the Bioshock sense) and not of one who has mastered himself.

Lastly; of course I will continue to defend myself as best I can. How else would we be able to continue our conversation?




High House Shadow today at 18:51


Hhmm.. you have an interesting perception on the game. However, I must say that I do not agree. The ultimate objective of this game is, as a tribe, to dominate most of the world over the course of several years. As a player, it is to grow as much as you can and help your tribe in whatever way you can. I agree that it would be much more fun if all our battles were evenly matched, but this just is not the case. I actually like the risk, the possibility of absolute defeat, because it comes with the reward of absolute victory.

If you want my reason for attacking you? Well that's simple. In the short term, I want to gain one more village. Your village will put me up to #1 on the continent. :) Aside from that it will put me into a good position to cut into the manic cluster, and my tribe will war with them very soon if things continue the way they are. So I will be taking villages there as well. In the mid term, I am to be the dominant player in the continent... in the dominant tribe in the continent. And in the long term I hope to me a major contender in the wars to come; though I doubt I will ever make it to the end of world 56.





High House Shadow today at 19:37


...Ouch. >.> I can't believe I forgot to send my mounted archers with that attack! Lol. Well congradulations, your friend is indeed going to put a nasty dent in my troops with that...




6li7ch today at 19:47


Ah, domination. Everybody craves control, and almost everybody loses.

Think about it this way. You yourself admit that the chances of 'winning' world 56 are low. Accepting that you have very little choice in the matter of succession, the only absolute control you have is over the small-scale actions you choose at the beginning of the game. 97% of the players will not reach their ultimate objective, and so mathematically speaking it makes sense to treat yourself as part of that majority when considering what actions you may perform.

To put it simply, we 'all' die, regardless of how we struggle, and so the true actions of worth we are left with are not those which lead towards absolute victory, but those which determine the fate of our 'Little Sisters'; those pure and innocent parts of ourselves we so readily sacrifice in the hopes of acquiring victory.

Nothing ends. When this world is unified under one tribe a new world will be populated with the forces that held together the old. There will be no 'Little Sisters' to tempt the morality of the players - only the strategic greed, loyalty and domination they have come to see as tools of survival. When Tribal Wars isn't enough for its players, what do you think happens to the 'nothing personal' attitude they have trained themselves to feel?

I am here merely to suggest that there is a different course of action. Regardless of any 'ultimate' objective, it is not the only objective. Understanding that you have a choice in the matter is all I ask.

You make a good point in your first paragraph where you say the possibility of absolute defeat makes a game more interesting. Thank you for doing so. It will give me something new to consider for a time.



High House Shadow today at 19:57


I suppose I'm not out to win. I'm out to do well and to have a good run. When I clicked the 'join world' button, it was with the knowledge and acceptance of the fact that, one day, I would lose. I would lose my villages, my weeks or months of hard work. Thus, when it actually happened, I wasn't disappointed. The only thing I was disappointed about was that I did poorly while I was still a contender. So you know what I did? I took the lessons I learned and restarted, to do better. 

And regarding your third paragraph; most people have a good grasp of the difference between real life and a game. Just because somebody wins a game doesn't mean they feel no compassion towards people.





6li7ch today at 21:04


Yes, most people have a good grasp on reality, but with all due respect (and by this I mean I am sorry if I offend you for saying something highly insensitive) most people are idiots.

As you say, you have put weeks or months of hard work into dominating this game. Yet you deny that hard work has any effect on your real life. By this the game becomes meaningless - a passing amusement by which you learn nothing and surrender hours of your life to pointless inaction. Didn't you suggest a game is made fun when one includes the concept of absolute defeat? How then can you insist that separating the actual destruction of your empathic ability from its virtual destruction is as fun as my own fusion of a real world and a virtual one?

I insist to myself that my actions on world 56 matter because it means all the hard work I put into it is not lost - it goes towards fighting an 'absolute defeat' of my moral standing.

To do otherwise is to play half a game - to sense things without attaching an emotional value to them. 

This is the true loss. All your hard work and the hours consumed by world 56, the late night build cues and the strategic plotting long hours into the night are worthless unless you accept they have an effect on reality.

Friday, 3 June 2011

Reasons why I love my planet

Sometimes when you’re in the midst of famine, terrorism, viral outbreaks and high finance it’s difficult to see the freckles of goodness that spot Earth (hrm… freckles = melanoma = cancer… bad analogy). The fact is they do exist. As most of the problems I have listed have to do with human beings and all of them are perpetuated by human behaviour it’s best to look outside the species for a ray of sunshine (sunshine = metabolic radiation = melanoma = cancer… why do I bother…)

So recently I’ve been preoccupied with the utter coolness of life on Earth when it isn’t constantly lopping grenades at other life on Earth. This was partially triggered by my vegetarianism post, which ignited my dormant respect for vegetable matter and its diversity. So here goes.

Plants:

Plants are awesome. No, I’m not a hippie, and I’m not on drugs. Really, they are. They are the oldest surviving kingdom of organic life on Earth save bacteria, but to be honest it isn’t really that difficult to survive for millions of years when you are a single cell organism. But when you are capable of perpetuating your existence simply by drinking up light and dirt, you reach a new echelon of epic-ness.

The way I understand it, plants are differentiated from other forms of life by the fact that they have more chloroplasts than mitochondria and have more than a modicum of cell matter. Plants also have a very simple nervous system which allows them to undertake basic perceive-react programming without the bells and whistles.

Plants have two qualities I appreciate. The first is adaptability. They can reattach damaged limbs not only from their own species but from other plant species. Younger plants can graft parts of older plants in order to reach maturity faster. How cool is that? If I could graft a third arm without extensive surgery I’d be a much happier man.

The second quality is patience. Plants don’t feel the need to rush – everything they need will come to them provided they wait long enough. They stand around in the shade, eating and growing, and eventually they grow taller than the shade and blossom. If an axe is left next to a tree, they don’t avoid it – they grow over it, absorbing the blade little by little until the axe is fixed within them where it cannot do any harm. Plants don’t have that vibrant ‘kill or be killed’ mentality that we animals do. Some live and others die, but none complain.

The symbiosis of plants is to be appreciated too. Think of barbs and burs. Plants have learnt to both predict and count on the fact that animals will find them tasty and attempt to eat them, so that they can reproduce. The same holds for the Venus Flytrap – plants are well acquainted with the concept of bait. When you think of how such a mechanism must have arisen, you can gain some appreciation for just how old the plant kingdom is. They’ve been there right from the beginning, through every incarnation of the planet that yielded the genetic potential for birds, reptiles, insects, fish and mammals.

You are never too old to climb a tree (although I wouldn’t recommend it if you are one hundred and thirty, and if you are, congratulations on learning how to use the internet). If you have not climbed a tree within the past month, in the name of whatever you hold dear stop reading this and do so now.

Welcome back.

I sat in a tree today. Granted, it was in the middle of a parking lot, but you can’t be pernickety when you live in the city. Trees evoke a primal emotion within me. Perhaps it is some residual ancestral programming sparked in my coiling myriad of DNA helixes. Climbing trees makes me feel safe and distant from the world below. I read somewhere that most people hardly ever look above eyelevel, and it’s true. If you ever need to get away from everything, or if you ever need a quiet place to think and reflect, seek the gentle companionship of a tree.



Bacteria:

I know I bashed them for not evolving the way we have, but now I’m taking it back. Bacteria are amazing. Back in yonder days when complex organisms didn’t exist, they probably seemed like lazy slobs. But now they are swimming in the bloodstreams and acidic juices of every life form on the planet, and staying small looks like a pretty good idea. Imagine a whole city nestled in your kidney. Imagine what it must be like to have such a simple code of behaviour instructing you – divide and conquer.

As with human beings, there are two main types of bacteria. The first type is ‘bad’. These are viruses, who focus on cell division at the detriment of their host. They consume all the resources that keep us going and use it to grow. If the virus is unlucky, it eventually ends up killing itself by destroying the host and any path to a new one.

The second type are ‘good’ bacteria. They believe in moderation, and spend their time conquering more than dividing. They keep a constant watch for bad bacteria and fight against them for territory, keeping the host alive and killing off large numbers of themselves in the process. Sometimes all this internal warfare really does feel like someone has dropped a nuke in your stomach.

Bacterial relationships are reflected pretty well in Star Wars. For those of you who have been living under a rock since the 70s, I’m talking about midi-chlorians, the fictional micro-organisms which reside in every living thing and are responsible for the phenomenon known as ‘The Force’. Basically ‘The Force’ is separated into two sides (sound familiar?), Light and Dark. The Light Side is harnessed by controlling one’s emotions and using moderation with every action one performs. It is not ‘good’ as some people may see ‘good’, but most people will agree it is synonymous with balance. The Jedi (users of the light side) are beings who have dedicated themselves to perpetuating civilisation by curbing the effects of such emotions as hatred and love (yes, love. The Jedi insist that unchecked love leads to fear, fear to power lust, and power lust to hatred).

Similarly bacteria are separated into their two groups in this way: moderation (the light side) and domination (the dark side).
We have a lot to learn from bacteria, provided we haven’t already done so from Hollywood.

Bacteria are there to remind us that life is everywhere, and that we are never alone. Do you consider your soul the sole resident of your body?
I don’t.
 Do you believe that all independent life has its own soul?
I do. There are approximately 40 000 000 000 individual bacteria cells in 1 gram of organic matter. If all souls are equal or at the very least can be said to have begun equal, you need acknowledge that 1014 thinking, feeling life forms are flowing through your veins like empyreal fire at this very moment.

None of us are alone, and all of us matter.

Books:

Ok, technically they are not alive, but they are outside the human species. Some things breathe, and other things make those first things breathe. Books are those things. Those un-breathing things, that is.

Language alone is a broken instrument. When we speak to one another, we are primarily concerned with three things; the ease of communication, the speed of communication and the correctness of communication. While these are similar, they are not identical.

‘Ease’ of communication refers to the rate at which understanding is perceived to flow. It avoids unnecessary repetition, the use of synonyms and analogy which otherwise lengthen the process of speaking.

‘Correctness’ of communication is the rate at which understanding actually flows. This one can be difficult, because sometimes people say they understand what you are saying and end up killing an American president when all you really wanted was for them to pass you a nacho. The factors affecting correctness are word use, pronunciation and connotation. For example if one pronounces the word ‘enchilada’ as ‘bazooka’ you are likely to trigger a war.

‘Speed’ of communication is exactly what it sounds, ironically. People don’t want to stand in the rain talking about umbrellas for half an hour before opening one. In conversation you need to get your point across quickly. Focus, mental flexibility and verbal reflex get you there. Some people like me really struggle with this, and are left soaking wet, babbling about umbrellas long after all conversational participants have fled.

Books are the base upon which language is honed into a finer tool. They contain centuries’ worth of analytical and speculative data which have been condensed in a variety of forms and ways to iterate the exact thoughts of their makers.

This all sound very cold, which is in no way how I feel about books.

A library is a safe harbour. In a confusing and often demanding world, books give us clarity and respite. They ask for nothing, and give everything.
For times when we feel Earth is devoid of any and all virtue, we can turn to fiction and imagine things like honour, chivalry and self-sacrifice are called for at every moment. In books Evil need not be devious or cloaked in deception, but is openly recognised and easily fought. Anything I have ever thought worth knowing was learnt from fiction. I reckon the real world could do with a touch of the inexplicable.

Perhaps the greatest phenomenon exclusive to literature is that it in the end the art form has very little to do with the writer. Words are meat – they refer to those physical entities and equations that bind together to create a story. One does not feel sad because one reads the word ‘despair’. One feels sad because they have empathy and imagination, and it is the reader who is responsible for defining the surreal perimeters simple phrases like ‘a war-torn wasteland of mountainous debris’ evoke. I did not put a sun or a moon in that phrase, but there is a good chance you saw one when you pictured it. Books remind us that we are all artists, and we can all create. Books cause a revolution in the mind by activating the senses and charging electricity into a dormant brain.

Books, while unliving and unloving, cause others to live and love.