The Nnak Stone

Initial writing — 1h45m23s — 2020/11/17

Added 0.2 — 1h55m20s — 2021/01/30

Polished 0.2 — 23m12s — 2021/01/31

…meanwhile, somewhere in book 4…

With the Eye of Lasitus in his left hand, and the Nnak stone in his right, Toar set forth from the keep with the spirit of Chelle in tow. He followed the sun west, to Melmorahn, where they gathered supplies before they made their way into the wilds of beyond.

As he traveled into the woods, Toar saw Krumpus heading east from town. The Eye of Lasitus said that he had abandoned Toar, which is why he came from the west. Toar was upset, and nearly attacked the shaman—but Chelle convinced him that such a fight might leave him injured. It’d be best if he simply forgot his previous friend and went abut his own life.

Once there, Toar found an injured bugbear. He noted other bugbear about, and realized he’d need to proceed carefully. The Eye of Lasitus offered one way forward—which was to kill the beast and make a potent repellent with the use of her gizzards. Once again, Chelle offered another way forward, and told him how his master used the Nnak Stone. The stone was smooth, small, and of a humble appearance. It fit in his palm—though Chelle said it was once the size of a man’s skull. For over a thousand years, inquiring hands had asked questions of the stone, and it answered by making their fingers stick.

Having some inkling of his own previous pains, Toar sided with Chelle. He stayed with the beast for nearly a week, as he used the Nnak stone to decipher how best to treat the unjured bugbear. As he worked, he noted other buggers around them—but they kept their distance. As he worked, Toar was surprised to find the other bugbear were bringing him food and supplies.

Not only did the other bugbear deliver Toar food, but on top on this miracle, the food was fit for human consumption. Toar was surprised to find such civilized manners among the bugbear and could not understand their strange behavior—until Daisy was healed. Finally, she rose from her bed and thanked Toar for saving her. She took his hand and led him to a small lake in a narrow valley, near the tip of a peak. She told him that he must leave her gifts. In return she would see him go the way he was meaning to go—to the Salystians.

At first, Toar thought she meant to have the Eye of Lasitus. He was petrified to lose the Eye of Lasitus, as he was constantly looking at the world through its greenish hue.

At first, Toar denied he wished to go forward—but Daisy didn’t believe him. She saw the look of him and knew that it was indeed what he wanted. He would not go back. But he would not give her the Eye, either. He thought of drowning the bugbear in the small lake and fleeing; but Chelle noted the other bugbear, and suggested if he did such a thing, he might lose the Eye of Lasitus anyway. Still antagonistic, Chelle suggested he simply give her other gifts? Using the eye, and what it could tell him of Chelle’s people, he formulated a plan.

First, Toar gave Daisy a knife. He spoke of it as a long tooth that was first slave to her intentions, but then should eventually become the master. As she had the tooth, she would it first and foremost to convenience her world— but as she became accustomed to it, she would seek out ways to use it.

Then, he gave her a feather and taught her to make an ink after the manner of Chelle’s people. He taught her to draw and decorate, which would be the first use of her pen.

The second use of the pen was to calculate. He taught her the numbers of his fingers and how to add and subtract. Then, he taught her to divide and multiply, and otherwise abstract. He taught her how to assign numbers to the days and degrees. He taught her the angles of the seasons, and talked of the great turning of years.

In this fashion, they talked for a day, then a week. A month passed.

As the summer stretched into the fall, Toar presented his next gift. He presented her with a cup. First, they drank water from the cup and were satiated. But Daisy already had a cup—and she knew to use it for water. So Toar taught her to crush fruit. He lidded his cup, then set it aside to ferment as he taught her more calculations with the pen. Eventually, the juice was ready, a fine fermented wine of the best fruits around. They sipped the juice cautiously. At first they did not like it, but they grew accustomed to the juice and liked it all too much. They had plenty about and shared it with the other bugbear. Indeed the alcohol was nice and strong—strong enough that the vapors got Chelle drunk.

The fermenting of the cup took a ling time, and although they used much of that time to practice with the knife and pen, Toar gave her what he thought would be the final gift: the Nnak Stone. He told her of its history, and how to use it, and she marveled to be given such a present—then, since it was such a simple stone and could easily be replicated, she taught the others of her tribe to make such a thing.

After the wine, Daisy felt strange, and couldn’t help but wonder if something was missing. She felt as if there was still something he must show her. All Toar could think of was the Eye, and he thought he would drown her and fight all her tribe before he ever gave it to her. Chelle said that if he did such a thing, she would leave him and never return—but he knew it was a lie.

To his shock and consternation, Daisy led him into the lake, still speaking of the thing she was missing, and wondering what it might be. He noted the knife on her hip. An inkling from the Eye said that one of them was not coming from the water with this life.

It was an easy thing for Toar to overpower the smaller bugbear—and since he took her by surprise—it was easy enough to knock away her knife when she grabbed for it.

Chelle immediately tried to leave, but Toar caught her with the Eye, and forced her to stay and watch.

Yet, things would not be so easy. Chelle had her own powers and knew the magic of Lasitus quite well. As Toar forced her to watch the present, she forced him to watch the past. He saw the way Lasitus maneuvered and manipulated Chelle and her people. She forced him to see all the cruel things he’d done.

But Toar didn’t simply see the ways in which Lasitus was evil, but the ways Chelle tried to subvert his wickedness. He saw all the ways she tried to placate him and all the subtle methods she’d used to instill her own powers in the keep and land. He saw the lives she comforted and saved, and slowly, he fell in love with her.

At the same time, Chelle saw all the pain and terror of Toar’s own life, and all the ways he was good. She promised him if he should not kill this bugbear that she would stay with him, even though it meant he must keep the Eye—for although Toar thought he could subvert the wickedness of Lasitus, she felt it must turn him evil.

Toar pulled Daisy from the water; gasping and sputtering. He wondered how long he had held her under, and apologized profusely as he held her up on unsteady feet.

But Daisy did not care about her brush with death. She cared only about the visions she was granted. “You have given me more than you could ever know,” she smiled at Toar. “For this is the moment my grandmother dreamed about. Indeed, you have given me such a blessing that I and my people shall now follow you until the end of our lives.”

Daisy leads Toar to Salyst. As they go, Toar is driven crazy by the Eye of Lasitus. When he finally arrives, he demands entrance.

The Salystians deny him.

A war begins. It carries on for over a decade, until Toar is finally defeated. They Eye is taken from him and smashed in the river that winds through new Salsyt, and out to the bay. In this way, the people of new Salyst drink of its power—only purified. Toar is sent to his next life, where he is slow of thought, but strong of body. He becomes a laborer for rock carvers and falls in love with one of their daughters; a bright, beautiful girl named Chelle.

But the artisans are surrounded by barbarians. Strong from his ponderous work, Toar turns toward warfare and becomes a great general, with a dozen children from his faithful wife.

It is in this other life, and at this other time, that Toar finds himself looking into a pond and seeing Krumpus, and knowing him from another life he veiwed as a nightmare. Krumpus stares into the pond where Toar almost drowned Daisy, and days before Toar would arrive, the shaman asks the warrior where he’s been and what has become of him. Toar tells his story, then says, “leave me to this place. I like it here. Return to your own children—and be the father to them.”

Krumpus returns to Melmorahn, then Hearthstone.

~!@#$%^&*()_+ 0.2 +_)(*&^%$#@!~

Toar gazed at the tall towers of the city before him—finer and taller than any he’d ever imagined possible. “The exodus of my people across the red desert was hard and took much from us,” the elder began. “It was the distance of a month, but could of been a whole new planet as far as we were concerned. We were—are—homebodies. A solitary people. We are happy to trade and even adopt from the wider world, but we prefer our own.

“At first, we did not mind the Ministrians,” he continued. “We operated on good faith and did not expect them to be so treacherous. We were not numerous to begin with, and had withdrawn too far from our Trohl cousins for them to assist us. We were harassed, scattered, murdered.

“We arrived in this new land pour in physical riches, but saw a wondrous paradise before us; full of wildlife and thick with fruits and flowers of every variety. We fell to our knees and wept for the glory of such a new home. We established our new city overlooking the bay, and proceeded to build apace. We were humbled by the Ministrians and their sore treatment, so we prayed daily that the gods might make us powerful. We knew the Ministrians could eventually find us again; or—god help us—something worse might stumble upon us. We needed to be strong so we could resist any such interlopers.”

“The Gods heard our prayers and granted us many blessings. Our buildings are made with sound, through resonance. We gather in circles to sing and dance, and raise the very earth. Stone acts like water as we sing. With our voices we shape it—as we used to do with hammer and chisel—only with superior results. This is how we’ve built such a marvelous city.”

Toar was granted a close-up inspection of the buildings so he might see the fine detailing. The walls and ceilings were covered in fine dtailing; all sorts of patterns, reliefs, maps, and abstracts that he could not hope to interpret. The work was as fine as any he’d ever seen, and a great deal better than most.

“And now you have come to us, threatening us with your army of dog-men—most unappreciated,” the elder frowned. “But we have captured your Eye and no longer see you as a threat. You are free to go,” he finished.

“I will have it back,” Toar spit.

The elder grinned. “We will destroy it. Do you care to watch?”

Toar was aghast. “You wouldn’t dare!”

The old man shrugged. “Stay or go, you will know it. Your own scars link you to the stone. We do not think its destruction will kill you. We are hoping it won’t.”

“And if it should?”

The man stared at Toar, “This cursed thing must return to the earth from which it came. It’s energies need to be settled and purified.” He shrugged. “I do not think it will kill you, but if it must…”

Toar struggled at his restraints. He screamed and snorted and began to sob. “NO!” He barked at them. “IT ISN’T YOURS!”

The elder held the Eye of Lasitus in his hand and began to hum. Those gathered about him matched his pitch and began to hum along. One by one, they split off into their own melodies, but all in harmony. The Eye screamed at Toar to take it away! He gasped as he could feel it cracking. He struggled against his bonds, not caring that the iron bit into his wrists and feet. The very earth seemed to tremor and Toar fell to all fours. He screamed and wailed. His head shivered with the music, which rang like a thousand bells, and drowned out the piercing wail of the Eye. The music crested. The elder squeezed the Eye and crushed it to dust.

Toar gasped and fell to the earth. He was out for some time. He woke with a ringing still loud in his ears, so loud that it drove him to distraction. he was no longer in irons with only a few Salystians attending him. His wrists and ankles were neatly bandaged though he could feel the dull pulsing of his wounds. They left him at the edge of the forest, where he wandered until some of his bugbear found him. They wagged their tails to see him and licked his hands and face. Eventually, they convinced Toar to return home, where he continued to teach them letters. He mostly stayed in the village and taught any that cared to learn. He lived a quiet life in a small cabin that he decorated incessantly while he hummed the song of the Salystians and remembered his vision of their new city. It was a simple life, content and lacking ambition.

Toar lived among the bugbear another dozen years or so before he came down with a mysterious sickness and died. His dog-men mourned him by making art in his image. Stories of his accomplishments spread far and wide along with crude effigies of his likeness.

But that was not the end of Toar’s story—only the end of this incarnation.