Post by Yali on Feb 16, 2016 16:43:03 GMT
Transcript:
"3rd of Tavan, 211 A.R:
I’m going to be writing this journal in English (the language of the Terrans) as practice for when I meet the explorers.
Master Anduris has instructed me for when I will be journeying to D’ni. I must write this journal to detail my history and where I come from, as well as many
other details.
Where to begin...
My name is Adann. I’m a Moeity woman and pupil of Anduris, a D’ni Master from Releeshahn, and I live on the Age of Tay. I’m preparing for a journey that may
strongly affect my future and that of my people, the Moeity.
I come from a noble family on Tay, one of descent closely tied to the line of Katran. My life has been relatively pleasant having been raised in the upper classes.
Still, I have always desired to aide my people of all classes and professions in my upbringing. This is why this journey is important to me. I hope I can make my
family proud...
I also hope I can please Anduris. His instructions have been diligent and I owe it to him to not fail in this.
My family is of the Lemahri line. My nobility can be traced back to Nelah Lemahri, a true friend of Katran who helped found our Moeity civilization during the Great
Escape at the collapse of Riven.
Riven...
I have heard tales of this place, this age. It all seems so strange. To imagine the Moeity before the Art, before our awakening... before Gehn.
In our death we were reborn. As Riven fissured and collapsed under the influence of that man... that impostor who claimed to be a God - our God - the Moeity
gained all his knowledge from ancient D’ni and more. If it hadn’t been for Katran and her mastery of the Art - his Art - we would have all perished.
It was thanks to a friend of Atrus, Katran’s husband, that she was freed from the grasp of Gehn and allowed to evacuate the Age before its destruction.
Because of this stranger, I am now here, two-hundred years later, writing this journal for you to read.
My father is the chief of the Armana District in Ashtasa, our capital. He is in charge of the administration of the district, its citizens, its economy, and in dealing
with the Head Chief of Ashtasa in the council. My mother is a priestess and leads the Armana District Temple in conducting its sacred rituals. Both my parents are well known in Ashtasa and have provided me with a solid education before I was handed over to Master Anduris after my sixteenth birthday, which is the age of maturity on Tay. From that point onwards I have
been an apprentice of Anduris. It was my family’s dream that I learn the art and bring honor to them and our line.
So far, I have been learning both D’ni and English, the language of the D’ni surface-dwellers. Anduris insists that knowing this language is important to D’ni's
future as the surface-dwellers are now entering into contact with the D’ni Empire after the rediscovery of the ancient Cavern.
I think it is about time I explain some history and where I come from…
The Age of Tay:
The age of Tay was originally written by Gehn but the book failed to create a stable link.
In the waning years of Riven, Katran rewrote portions of the age’s descriptive book, allowing the age to stabilize.
The Age consists of a large volcanic island that is several miles across. It is home to a variety of landscapes – from wastelands and mountain ranges to fertile
river valleys, dense jungles and swamplands. The Age, I will admit is harsh, but it was always my mother’s saying that a world of harshness breeds strong
character. The Moeity believe this is what makes our civilization great.
Still, the Age is striking in its beauty, from its magnificent sky – often obscured by dark rain clouds and volcanic ash that give contrast and intensity to the light –
to the dark, boggy jungles in the west. The mountains are jagged and tall – capped with snow – and the valleys are verdant and fertile, home to our farmlands
and villages. At the center of the island is the Sacred Valley where the Hive, or Kilemipo in Rivenese, is located. This is where the temple rules and commoners
are forbidden from entering.
North of Kilemipo is the Black Bay, where on an island at its center lies Mount Gehn, the volcano that spreads ash across the main
island. Its name was coined by the early settlers as a commentary on Gehn’s poor writing which is believed to be the cause of the Volcano’s presence on the age.
Despite Katran’s rewriting of the age, this lingering trait begot out of Gehn’s faulty knowledge of the D’ni Art remains. With that said, the Moeity have come to
love our volcano as it is believed that its harshness is a reminder of where we came from and the suffering our ancestors endured, ultimately allowing us to be
gifted with the knowledge of the Art – ironically gifted to us by Gehn himself.
Regions of the Age:
The South: The south is verdant and fertile with many tall woodlands housing villages built into the trees. The largest of these is Nava along the banks of the
River Ira. Surrounding Lake Eleem are many farms and small villages. At the center of the lake is the city of Ashtasa, which is built out of stone and adobe -
linked by boardwalks above the water. The palace of the Queen is on the south island while the Armana District is on the West Isle.
The East: To the east of the River Ira are the Gapoto Mountains which are ragged and rainy. In this region are old woods, mostly Ashkosh trees which look like
crooked claws jutting out of the ashen ground. The air here is misty and often laced with soot from the smoky southbound winds pouring out from Mount Gehn.
Located in a pass between two mountains is the rainy town of Ash, appropriately named in English by Atrus when he first visited the area during early expeditions. The
town is built out of stone and wood from a nearby forest. Murky rain is common here as well as frequent ash winds.
Ash is built in a traditional D’ni style with town houses sharing walls, each adjacent to one another. There is an inn here for travelers known as the Wise Squam
(Squam are large reptilian birds that glide across the mountains - many of which can be seen circling around the Great Hive from the original link-in cave). The
Inn is run by an old D’ni man named Atef. I had talked to him during my last visit through the area. It seems his story is an odd one. He left Releeshahn due to
quarrels with the guild of Maintainers. It seems the Maintainers have put a price on his head and now he runs the Inn as a kind of haven for renegades and
outlaws from across the ages. He keeps a dagger in his pocket with the knowledge that one day the guild will find him.
North of Ash are three small villages carved out of giant gourd-like plants known as gapoto. The gapoto plant is but a large house-sized pumpkin which the
eastern Moeity have gutted and turned into dwellings. The interiors are surprisingly spacious, however the smell is strong. Tay is an age of many smells, a fact
which the Moeity embrace fully with our cooking and narcotics.
The eastern Moeity are known for their excellent hunting skills. Young boys are trained with bow-and-arrow and throwing-spears for the hunt of the mountain
Squam. The Squam fly in groups and each group has a main nest somewhere in the north-east region. Thus the local Moeity have a name for every group based
on their nesting spot. Ash is ruled by clan Wahrk, as is the capital. However many of the Ash and gapoto villagers are members of the lesser clan of Squam,
whose banner is five squam encircling a sacred Moeity dagger against a scarlet red background - the sacred Moeity rebel color.
South -East, beyond the mountains is the Shipwreck Coast where the air is warm and windy. The coast is named due to a large amount of shipwrecks along the
beaches. These ships are not of Moeity construction. We believe they are from the south where some unknown civilization must reside, and the thought that
we are not alone on this age scares me to no end.
This region is ruled by Clan Rem, one of the five clans ruling Tay. Their banner is the yellow scarab beetle encircled by water. All clans take after a native animal
as we did on Riven. Katran was generous when writing this age in that she included in her descriptions all the native animals of Riven, many of whom were
wiped out by Gehn.
The West, which encompasses everything west of the Dividing Range until the ocean, is home to the Hiva Wetlands (Hiva is Rivenese for Sunner), the Golden
Plateau, the Western Jungles and the Crag.
The Hiva Wetlands are marshy lowland around the Hiva River west of the Dividing Range. Small communities allied with the Hiva clan live here in thatched
homes, living off fishing from the river and the surrounding marsh as well as hunting Tarpa in the grasslands (Tarpa are hog-like mammals with stubby bristles
along their spines).
There are two villages here, both of the Hiva clan. These are Tikome and Velah, ruled by chieftains loyal to the Queen in Ashtasa. These two villages are built as
miniature hives out of adobe with individual homes, much like honeycomb, jutting out of a central hub. Walkways connect the outside entrances of homes like
great scaffolding around a strange brown fruit.
West of here is the Golden Plateau, a grassy highland rising out of the marsh where one can get a good view of the Dividing Range, resting beneath ominous
black clouds of ash and moisture.
On the plateau itself are many large Ove trees - the Ove being the sacred tree of the Moeity of which the great Hive is built out of. Beneath the shade of the Ove
trees are ancient burial grounds belonging to long vanished peoples that lived on the island many centuries ago.
Further west are the Atami Mountains which separate the Golden Plateau from the Crag.
The Crag is a rocky coast swept by violent winds and rain and infested with tishi hives that are farmed for their honey. The tishi is a large wasp-like insect that
builds tall sand hives among the rocks. The Wahrk clan rules over the area and administers the honey farms from the town of Cara along the Red Bay at the
mouth of the Hiva River.
Cara is built like a military fort with homes and civic buildings carved out of elder tishi husks. As the tishi ages it grows larger and larger until it can no longer fly.
The leftover husks serve as nests for Kima which are a species of small beetle, forming a symbiotic relationship.
North-west of the crag, beyond the Atami Mountains lie the Western Jungles - a thick, swampy region of dense forest and bogs. When I have travelled here it
rained constantly. The waters were murky and opaque with life and the smell of the air was foul. No towns exist here save for small groupings of mud huts
were the Atam clans people live, their banner the brown Atam fish encircled by green snakes native to the bogs.
The Atam Moeity are not too fond of politics despite being one of the five ruling clans. Their hold, due to its impenetrability, is largely secure from clan conflicts,
and the jungles provide no natural export worth anything to the D’ni nor southern Moeity’s interest. The Atam have been safe for over two-hundred years and
this has led to the clan developing a rather conservative moral code in their self-imposed isolation. The Atam children are taught to fight from the age of 4 and
up with traditional Atam fishing spears whose pointed tips are Moeity bronze sacred daggers.
During one of my excursions into the bogs during a diplomatic mission from Ashtasa, I ventured some distance from the Atam huts and into the thick of the
jungle. There I found a small hut built out of what looked like mud, plants, and clay where a warm orange light shone through a circular window. It being a
downpour, I quickly knocked on the small wooden door in the hopes that whoever dwelt here would let me in out of the storm and offer me some food, as is a
Moeity custom. I waited for several minutes before the door opened slowly, at which I saw the face of the hut-dweller emerge. I was shocked and awed at the
sight the person whom I was staring at. It was none other than Yeesha, daughter of Katran and Atrus! Words escaped me at that moment, yet she motioned me
into the dwelling. I sat down on a section of the wall that had been molded into a bench as she looked me in the eyes and asked me who I was. I told her I was
from the capital and a Lehmari. She laughed at my attempt to highlight my nobility and motioned towards a bowl of mushroom soup cooking over a small fire.
I ate well that night but more rewarding was the conversation I had with the D’ni woman. She told me that during her first century of life, after the death of her
mother, she would seek refuge here in the bogs of Tay, in this hut that she built herself. Here she studied ancient D’ni texts, far away from the busy life of
Releeshahn, learning more of the Art in the solace of nature. During these quiet years in the wilderness she dealt with her identity and the prophecies that she
uncovered that seemed more and more to speak of her. In the corner of her hut lying across a piece of muddy cloth, I saw the six copies of Words - the ancient
D’ni text written by a prophet known as the Watcher who was rumoured to have been born in mid-link. Yeesha told me that these books spoke of a character of
great power, a power so grand it could weave D’ni’s future.
It has been many years since this incident and much has changed across Terok Jeruth, much of it having direct origin in the actions of Yeesha. D’ni is at war, and
soon Tay will be as well, and I dread this with all my heart.
I have yet to describe the rest of the island, so I will finish with the two final regions:
First, the Northern Wastes ruled by clan Ytram, their banner being that of the purple frog in the center of a red star.
The Northern Wastes are arid ash lands encircled by mountains. The skies here are a deep blue and the winds are cold and sharp. The Ytram clan take their
name from the native frogs that inhabit the mountain caves. The natives here extract the frog’s poison to be smoked ritually.
During these rituals the clans people paint organic swirling shapes and colors on the hides of wild vahma which are native to the wastelands. The poison from
the Ytram’s skin induces the smoker with hallucinations that the Ytram clans people claim allows them to perceive a multitude of ages that shift, like multicolored
dye, from one possibility to the next. It’s believed that the ultimate goal of these rituals is to see Riven before its destruction. With my knowledge of
the Art, I know this is impossible, for Riven is closed forever, and yet the Ytram clan’s religious tradition is centered around this desire. With this in mind, I feel
saddened only because I was so lucky to have been born into a noble household and instructed by a D’ni Master. Legend has it that Gehn consumed the Ytram’s
poison, as do the wastelanders, in his futile attempt to aide his writing skills. I was very lucky to have visited Gehn’s 233rd Age some years ago with Anduris and
Dr. Richard Watson where many of Gehn’s journals were found. The age had been kept by way of a rebel who had stolen a golden dome linking book before the
collapse of Riven. Thus I was able to assist D’ni historian Dr. Watson in uncovering crucial information about Atrus and Katran’s family and the Fall of D’ni, as well
as knowledge on Gehn - the man himself.
This information proved useful to D’ni’s surface dwellers, causing a phenomenon of interest in the ancient city that had been buried for so long. It wasn’t long
before explorers began pilgrimaging to the Cavern with the goal of restoring the once great city and to eventually learn the Art themselves. Seeing Gehn’s Age
imbued in me a sense of powerful history. Here was the refuge of the very man who set into motion the birth of the Moeity civilization. Everything was left as it
was before the end of Riven. The five linking books, the cannen, his imager and his journals…
This brings me to my final region of Tay, the Sacred Valley:
The Sacred Valley was the first settled region of Tay by the Moeity rebels during the final years of Riven. The region is arid and volcanic and is walled off by
massive stone walls that snake through the Dividing Range, separating the rest of the island from the center. During Katran’s era, the Hive was the center of
activity on Tay while the age was being explored. Later, only when Katran entered old age did the southern lands become the center of Moeity civilization as the need
for agriculture and trade became important in the growth of our economy.
Atrus’ search for D’ni survivors among the books left abandoned in the cavern allowed the D’ni civilization to flourish once again, and this time it was on
a new age that Atrus had written as a new home for the D’ni. Katran, having written Tay, now became a Queen not only here among her people but on
Releeshahn for all of the D’ni. There is even a gleaming tower in her name. This undoubtedly linked the fate of the Moeity with the fate of the D’ni. In the cave
at the base of the crater where the Hive was built, there now rests three books rather than one. At the center-back of the link-in spot remains the effigy of Gehn
holding a now broken Riven linking book, but flanking him now stand two new wooden statues: one of Atrus, carved and painted, depicting him in a golden coat
with his hands stretched out, holding a linking book to Releeshahn, and one of Katran, carved and painted as well, depicting her in a crimson dress gilded with
gold and encrusted with mirrors, holding a book to her age of Torus.
On Torus, at the edge of the central vortex where the ocean plummets into the night side, there is a large temple erected to Katran. Katran is both a Rivenese
heroine and a deity, as it is custom to deify great chiefs and major heroes upon their deaths since ancient times on Riven. It is simply the scale at which our
ancient tribal customs have been translated into which astounds me. None of this would have been possible without the D’ni. Yet, I can’t help but wonder...
had it not been for Gehn, even without acknowledging his misplaced view of himself as a living god, we would still be living out meagre village life on the island
of Riven. Our world would have fortunately not crumbled to pieces, yet everything that we have now... the books, the cities, the population, we could not even
have imagined it all if we tried. Through the death of our world we were blessed with a new one. The Moeity are now guests in the kingdom of universes, and
we have the Gods to be grateful to.
The Queen, however is not satisfied with this gift...
I dare not speak too openly as there is trouble brewing in the capital and I wish to keep my life, but for you dear explorer who may be reading my journal,
beware of pride and lust. The Moeity may not be satisfied as mere guests for too long. The Queen sees the D’ni and wishes the same for Tay. Books are the
answer. As Yeesha said to me in the bogs that one night, “The power to write corrupts”. Her brothers knew this all too well and suffered a terrible fate due to
their callousness and lust for all that the Art has to offer.
As Tay grows and grows, so do the eyes of its leaders, and it is in the ink and the pages where their gazes lie."
___________
"3rd of Tavan, 211 A.R:
I’m going to be writing this journal in English (the language of the Terrans) as practice for when I meet the explorers.
Master Anduris has instructed me for when I will be journeying to D’ni. I must write this journal to detail my history and where I come from, as well as many
other details.
Where to begin...
My name is Adann. I’m a Moeity woman and pupil of Anduris, a D’ni Master from Releeshahn, and I live on the Age of Tay. I’m preparing for a journey that may
strongly affect my future and that of my people, the Moeity.
I come from a noble family on Tay, one of descent closely tied to the line of Katran. My life has been relatively pleasant having been raised in the upper classes.
Still, I have always desired to aide my people of all classes and professions in my upbringing. This is why this journey is important to me. I hope I can make my
family proud...
I also hope I can please Anduris. His instructions have been diligent and I owe it to him to not fail in this.
My family is of the Lemahri line. My nobility can be traced back to Nelah Lemahri, a true friend of Katran who helped found our Moeity civilization during the Great
Escape at the collapse of Riven.
Riven...
I have heard tales of this place, this age. It all seems so strange. To imagine the Moeity before the Art, before our awakening... before Gehn.
In our death we were reborn. As Riven fissured and collapsed under the influence of that man... that impostor who claimed to be a God - our God - the Moeity
gained all his knowledge from ancient D’ni and more. If it hadn’t been for Katran and her mastery of the Art - his Art - we would have all perished.
It was thanks to a friend of Atrus, Katran’s husband, that she was freed from the grasp of Gehn and allowed to evacuate the Age before its destruction.
Because of this stranger, I am now here, two-hundred years later, writing this journal for you to read.
My father is the chief of the Armana District in Ashtasa, our capital. He is in charge of the administration of the district, its citizens, its economy, and in dealing
with the Head Chief of Ashtasa in the council. My mother is a priestess and leads the Armana District Temple in conducting its sacred rituals. Both my parents are well known in Ashtasa and have provided me with a solid education before I was handed over to Master Anduris after my sixteenth birthday, which is the age of maturity on Tay. From that point onwards I have
been an apprentice of Anduris. It was my family’s dream that I learn the art and bring honor to them and our line.
So far, I have been learning both D’ni and English, the language of the D’ni surface-dwellers. Anduris insists that knowing this language is important to D’ni's
future as the surface-dwellers are now entering into contact with the D’ni Empire after the rediscovery of the ancient Cavern.
I think it is about time I explain some history and where I come from…
The Age of Tay:
The age of Tay was originally written by Gehn but the book failed to create a stable link.
In the waning years of Riven, Katran rewrote portions of the age’s descriptive book, allowing the age to stabilize.
The Age consists of a large volcanic island that is several miles across. It is home to a variety of landscapes – from wastelands and mountain ranges to fertile
river valleys, dense jungles and swamplands. The Age, I will admit is harsh, but it was always my mother’s saying that a world of harshness breeds strong
character. The Moeity believe this is what makes our civilization great.
Still, the Age is striking in its beauty, from its magnificent sky – often obscured by dark rain clouds and volcanic ash that give contrast and intensity to the light –
to the dark, boggy jungles in the west. The mountains are jagged and tall – capped with snow – and the valleys are verdant and fertile, home to our farmlands
and villages. At the center of the island is the Sacred Valley where the Hive, or Kilemipo in Rivenese, is located. This is where the temple rules and commoners
are forbidden from entering.
North of Kilemipo is the Black Bay, where on an island at its center lies Mount Gehn, the volcano that spreads ash across the main
island. Its name was coined by the early settlers as a commentary on Gehn’s poor writing which is believed to be the cause of the Volcano’s presence on the age.
Despite Katran’s rewriting of the age, this lingering trait begot out of Gehn’s faulty knowledge of the D’ni Art remains. With that said, the Moeity have come to
love our volcano as it is believed that its harshness is a reminder of where we came from and the suffering our ancestors endured, ultimately allowing us to be
gifted with the knowledge of the Art – ironically gifted to us by Gehn himself.
Regions of the Age:
The South: The south is verdant and fertile with many tall woodlands housing villages built into the trees. The largest of these is Nava along the banks of the
River Ira. Surrounding Lake Eleem are many farms and small villages. At the center of the lake is the city of Ashtasa, which is built out of stone and adobe -
linked by boardwalks above the water. The palace of the Queen is on the south island while the Armana District is on the West Isle.
The East: To the east of the River Ira are the Gapoto Mountains which are ragged and rainy. In this region are old woods, mostly Ashkosh trees which look like
crooked claws jutting out of the ashen ground. The air here is misty and often laced with soot from the smoky southbound winds pouring out from Mount Gehn.
Located in a pass between two mountains is the rainy town of Ash, appropriately named in English by Atrus when he first visited the area during early expeditions. The
town is built out of stone and wood from a nearby forest. Murky rain is common here as well as frequent ash winds.
Ash is built in a traditional D’ni style with town houses sharing walls, each adjacent to one another. There is an inn here for travelers known as the Wise Squam
(Squam are large reptilian birds that glide across the mountains - many of which can be seen circling around the Great Hive from the original link-in cave). The
Inn is run by an old D’ni man named Atef. I had talked to him during my last visit through the area. It seems his story is an odd one. He left Releeshahn due to
quarrels with the guild of Maintainers. It seems the Maintainers have put a price on his head and now he runs the Inn as a kind of haven for renegades and
outlaws from across the ages. He keeps a dagger in his pocket with the knowledge that one day the guild will find him.
North of Ash are three small villages carved out of giant gourd-like plants known as gapoto. The gapoto plant is but a large house-sized pumpkin which the
eastern Moeity have gutted and turned into dwellings. The interiors are surprisingly spacious, however the smell is strong. Tay is an age of many smells, a fact
which the Moeity embrace fully with our cooking and narcotics.
The eastern Moeity are known for their excellent hunting skills. Young boys are trained with bow-and-arrow and throwing-spears for the hunt of the mountain
Squam. The Squam fly in groups and each group has a main nest somewhere in the north-east region. Thus the local Moeity have a name for every group based
on their nesting spot. Ash is ruled by clan Wahrk, as is the capital. However many of the Ash and gapoto villagers are members of the lesser clan of Squam,
whose banner is five squam encircling a sacred Moeity dagger against a scarlet red background - the sacred Moeity rebel color.
South -East, beyond the mountains is the Shipwreck Coast where the air is warm and windy. The coast is named due to a large amount of shipwrecks along the
beaches. These ships are not of Moeity construction. We believe they are from the south where some unknown civilization must reside, and the thought that
we are not alone on this age scares me to no end.
This region is ruled by Clan Rem, one of the five clans ruling Tay. Their banner is the yellow scarab beetle encircled by water. All clans take after a native animal
as we did on Riven. Katran was generous when writing this age in that she included in her descriptions all the native animals of Riven, many of whom were
wiped out by Gehn.
The West, which encompasses everything west of the Dividing Range until the ocean, is home to the Hiva Wetlands (Hiva is Rivenese for Sunner), the Golden
Plateau, the Western Jungles and the Crag.
The Hiva Wetlands are marshy lowland around the Hiva River west of the Dividing Range. Small communities allied with the Hiva clan live here in thatched
homes, living off fishing from the river and the surrounding marsh as well as hunting Tarpa in the grasslands (Tarpa are hog-like mammals with stubby bristles
along their spines).
There are two villages here, both of the Hiva clan. These are Tikome and Velah, ruled by chieftains loyal to the Queen in Ashtasa. These two villages are built as
miniature hives out of adobe with individual homes, much like honeycomb, jutting out of a central hub. Walkways connect the outside entrances of homes like
great scaffolding around a strange brown fruit.
West of here is the Golden Plateau, a grassy highland rising out of the marsh where one can get a good view of the Dividing Range, resting beneath ominous
black clouds of ash and moisture.
On the plateau itself are many large Ove trees - the Ove being the sacred tree of the Moeity of which the great Hive is built out of. Beneath the shade of the Ove
trees are ancient burial grounds belonging to long vanished peoples that lived on the island many centuries ago.
Further west are the Atami Mountains which separate the Golden Plateau from the Crag.
The Crag is a rocky coast swept by violent winds and rain and infested with tishi hives that are farmed for their honey. The tishi is a large wasp-like insect that
builds tall sand hives among the rocks. The Wahrk clan rules over the area and administers the honey farms from the town of Cara along the Red Bay at the
mouth of the Hiva River.
Cara is built like a military fort with homes and civic buildings carved out of elder tishi husks. As the tishi ages it grows larger and larger until it can no longer fly.
The leftover husks serve as nests for Kima which are a species of small beetle, forming a symbiotic relationship.
North-west of the crag, beyond the Atami Mountains lie the Western Jungles - a thick, swampy region of dense forest and bogs. When I have travelled here it
rained constantly. The waters were murky and opaque with life and the smell of the air was foul. No towns exist here save for small groupings of mud huts
were the Atam clans people live, their banner the brown Atam fish encircled by green snakes native to the bogs.
The Atam Moeity are not too fond of politics despite being one of the five ruling clans. Their hold, due to its impenetrability, is largely secure from clan conflicts,
and the jungles provide no natural export worth anything to the D’ni nor southern Moeity’s interest. The Atam have been safe for over two-hundred years and
this has led to the clan developing a rather conservative moral code in their self-imposed isolation. The Atam children are taught to fight from the age of 4 and
up with traditional Atam fishing spears whose pointed tips are Moeity bronze sacred daggers.
During one of my excursions into the bogs during a diplomatic mission from Ashtasa, I ventured some distance from the Atam huts and into the thick of the
jungle. There I found a small hut built out of what looked like mud, plants, and clay where a warm orange light shone through a circular window. It being a
downpour, I quickly knocked on the small wooden door in the hopes that whoever dwelt here would let me in out of the storm and offer me some food, as is a
Moeity custom. I waited for several minutes before the door opened slowly, at which I saw the face of the hut-dweller emerge. I was shocked and awed at the
sight the person whom I was staring at. It was none other than Yeesha, daughter of Katran and Atrus! Words escaped me at that moment, yet she motioned me
into the dwelling. I sat down on a section of the wall that had been molded into a bench as she looked me in the eyes and asked me who I was. I told her I was
from the capital and a Lehmari. She laughed at my attempt to highlight my nobility and motioned towards a bowl of mushroom soup cooking over a small fire.
I ate well that night but more rewarding was the conversation I had with the D’ni woman. She told me that during her first century of life, after the death of her
mother, she would seek refuge here in the bogs of Tay, in this hut that she built herself. Here she studied ancient D’ni texts, far away from the busy life of
Releeshahn, learning more of the Art in the solace of nature. During these quiet years in the wilderness she dealt with her identity and the prophecies that she
uncovered that seemed more and more to speak of her. In the corner of her hut lying across a piece of muddy cloth, I saw the six copies of Words - the ancient
D’ni text written by a prophet known as the Watcher who was rumoured to have been born in mid-link. Yeesha told me that these books spoke of a character of
great power, a power so grand it could weave D’ni’s future.
It has been many years since this incident and much has changed across Terok Jeruth, much of it having direct origin in the actions of Yeesha. D’ni is at war, and
soon Tay will be as well, and I dread this with all my heart.
I have yet to describe the rest of the island, so I will finish with the two final regions:
First, the Northern Wastes ruled by clan Ytram, their banner being that of the purple frog in the center of a red star.
The Northern Wastes are arid ash lands encircled by mountains. The skies here are a deep blue and the winds are cold and sharp. The Ytram clan take their
name from the native frogs that inhabit the mountain caves. The natives here extract the frog’s poison to be smoked ritually.
During these rituals the clans people paint organic swirling shapes and colors on the hides of wild vahma which are native to the wastelands. The poison from
the Ytram’s skin induces the smoker with hallucinations that the Ytram clans people claim allows them to perceive a multitude of ages that shift, like multicolored
dye, from one possibility to the next. It’s believed that the ultimate goal of these rituals is to see Riven before its destruction. With my knowledge of
the Art, I know this is impossible, for Riven is closed forever, and yet the Ytram clan’s religious tradition is centered around this desire. With this in mind, I feel
saddened only because I was so lucky to have been born into a noble household and instructed by a D’ni Master. Legend has it that Gehn consumed the Ytram’s
poison, as do the wastelanders, in his futile attempt to aide his writing skills. I was very lucky to have visited Gehn’s 233rd Age some years ago with Anduris and
Dr. Richard Watson where many of Gehn’s journals were found. The age had been kept by way of a rebel who had stolen a golden dome linking book before the
collapse of Riven. Thus I was able to assist D’ni historian Dr. Watson in uncovering crucial information about Atrus and Katran’s family and the Fall of D’ni, as well
as knowledge on Gehn - the man himself.
This information proved useful to D’ni’s surface dwellers, causing a phenomenon of interest in the ancient city that had been buried for so long. It wasn’t long
before explorers began pilgrimaging to the Cavern with the goal of restoring the once great city and to eventually learn the Art themselves. Seeing Gehn’s Age
imbued in me a sense of powerful history. Here was the refuge of the very man who set into motion the birth of the Moeity civilization. Everything was left as it
was before the end of Riven. The five linking books, the cannen, his imager and his journals…
This brings me to my final region of Tay, the Sacred Valley:
The Sacred Valley was the first settled region of Tay by the Moeity rebels during the final years of Riven. The region is arid and volcanic and is walled off by
massive stone walls that snake through the Dividing Range, separating the rest of the island from the center. During Katran’s era, the Hive was the center of
activity on Tay while the age was being explored. Later, only when Katran entered old age did the southern lands become the center of Moeity civilization as the need
for agriculture and trade became important in the growth of our economy.
Atrus’ search for D’ni survivors among the books left abandoned in the cavern allowed the D’ni civilization to flourish once again, and this time it was on
a new age that Atrus had written as a new home for the D’ni. Katran, having written Tay, now became a Queen not only here among her people but on
Releeshahn for all of the D’ni. There is even a gleaming tower in her name. This undoubtedly linked the fate of the Moeity with the fate of the D’ni. In the cave
at the base of the crater where the Hive was built, there now rests three books rather than one. At the center-back of the link-in spot remains the effigy of Gehn
holding a now broken Riven linking book, but flanking him now stand two new wooden statues: one of Atrus, carved and painted, depicting him in a golden coat
with his hands stretched out, holding a linking book to Releeshahn, and one of Katran, carved and painted as well, depicting her in a crimson dress gilded with
gold and encrusted with mirrors, holding a book to her age of Torus.
On Torus, at the edge of the central vortex where the ocean plummets into the night side, there is a large temple erected to Katran. Katran is both a Rivenese
heroine and a deity, as it is custom to deify great chiefs and major heroes upon their deaths since ancient times on Riven. It is simply the scale at which our
ancient tribal customs have been translated into which astounds me. None of this would have been possible without the D’ni. Yet, I can’t help but wonder...
had it not been for Gehn, even without acknowledging his misplaced view of himself as a living god, we would still be living out meagre village life on the island
of Riven. Our world would have fortunately not crumbled to pieces, yet everything that we have now... the books, the cities, the population, we could not even
have imagined it all if we tried. Through the death of our world we were blessed with a new one. The Moeity are now guests in the kingdom of universes, and
we have the Gods to be grateful to.
The Queen, however is not satisfied with this gift...
I dare not speak too openly as there is trouble brewing in the capital and I wish to keep my life, but for you dear explorer who may be reading my journal,
beware of pride and lust. The Moeity may not be satisfied as mere guests for too long. The Queen sees the D’ni and wishes the same for Tay. Books are the
answer. As Yeesha said to me in the bogs that one night, “The power to write corrupts”. Her brothers knew this all too well and suffered a terrible fate due to
their callousness and lust for all that the Art has to offer.
As Tay grows and grows, so do the eyes of its leaders, and it is in the ink and the pages where their gazes lie."
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