B.T.V. -- Session 12 Interlude: Within the Watchtower

The small vault was lit by the gleam of a distant, dark, dwarf star.


Three figures sat under the vault’s high chamfered ceiling. Each had particular reason to be there. Each had come to the vault for that reason. None of them had been brought by the other.

Something resembling a black comet soared beneath the vault’s open sides. The three individuals paid it scant inspection. They were here for other reasons.


The two waited on the one. He was the oldest and deserved to be heard first. It became clear that he preferred to let another speak. He, being Typhon, would know when his time to speak was right. The other two realised this when the black comet had orbited ‘round the vault three times. The one known as Khons broke into the random buzz created by the comet’s passing.


“It is good to see you here, Typhon. A gift, one might be prodded to say.”


Typhon said nothing. His eyes were bowls of stars. Khons sat on a throne that allowed him to travel among the stars. He was used to seeing them, but to see all the known stars assembled in just one of Typhon’s eyes, led him to wonder at where the other eye’s stars might be found. Khons wondered long enough to know that Typhon would not comment.

The other figure was younger than either Typhon or Khons. He was a man. Benedict. A man made immortal and a man aware of his place in the Realm. A man that had been protected by his birth, isolated by his difference, inoculated by amber. He was singular in his ability. His unique mind was aware of other forces besides his own. He could contrive to feel another’s will. By doing this, Benedict could know what they might desire. He could see what their actions would be and where those actions would lead. Anyone within existence could be understood by Benedict’s mind. It saw the Realm as a battlefield. A field blown on by wind, rained on, loved, flooded, burnt, attacked, infested, loved again, despised, taken for granted, fertilized, plowed under, taken, built upon, ignored, denied, hated, forgotten, dispensed with, seeded and superseded. Benedict saw these possibilities more clearly than anyone.



The other two figures knew this to be a fact. They knew it was not that Benedict was greater than them, but that he knew these possibilities because he was not as great as them. It was his gift. Even mortals might have such gifts. An immortal man could not be envied his.


Benedict said, “Khons, you must tell me why you allowed the gorgon her freedom. I know what she will do. This may not be something you realise. It will affect things to some I value, in a bad way.” Khons was relieved that Benedict had spoken into the silence.


Khons said, “I released her because it was the right price to pay for another’s freedom. You do not know the costs to me to do this thing. The Runestaff requires it.”


“The balancing act the ‘staff continues to play is not something I can consider. I will trust in what you do as being necessary. What I meant to say is that those close to me might not allow the gorgon her way in things.”


“She does not serve my interests. She may think she does or that she has my support. That is not my concern. I may or may not support her, as I choose.” Benedict considered the sound of this statement. He knew enough about gods to know that the words were truthfully uttered. Khons was an ancient god. A force of the Realm before there were forces of nature. Khons was the god of all-encompassing night, the nights before the first dawn. The nights that never saw stars’ light. In his solitude, Khons bore witness to the coming of all the other gods, no matter their pantheon. All saw him as old when they were new. The young often discount the elder, knowing the old to be past worth or worth knowing. Benedict was too old to be unaware of this and too himself to be unsure what Khons meant.


“I thank you for the honesty of your words. She is free on Axildusk. She learns of her surroundings. She will measure herself against the races she finds there. She will move to create her own chaos. A chaos born of her family history and one she will bring upon her family’s present. This is something I can be considered an expert on. Her life is renewed. This is the gift you have granted her. Her Profane nature is within her and when she makes her plan known, her blood will course across the Realm.”


“Profane blood does have that power. You know she will bleed her last so soon?”


Typhon said, “She moves swiftly because she is sure and driven. Driven to the edge and far from the path. Driven out by you and driven on to find her peace.”


Khons said, “I knew she was fated to be involved... I thought only to allow this to happen. This cost seemed a small one to allow for what I wanted to be possible.”


“This possibility is what brought you here.”


“Yes, Benedict, but I feel I should make apology.”


“Don’t. It is more than enough to hear you suggest it. You are a god like few I have known. We must all play the cards we are dealt."


“We are both ones who travel alone.”


“Yet here we are -- together.”


Khons did not think this was much of a revelation. Khons considered the man who had said it and decided to review this statement later.


Typhon spoke, “The gorgon’s blood will be spilled. Benedict says it. I will not exert my power to know with more certainty than this. His word is good enough for my purposes. She will bleed. The world of dragons will see another kind of serpent arise as a result of her life’s blood’s fall. The serpent moves sidewinding, in a way that can be considered difficult to predict. Noble Dragon Chaos will be the beneficiary and the patron. Nothing can be done to prevent this.”


Benedict allowed a pause before saying, ”Legends will arise. There are those in place who would see these turned to myth.”


“They will need to drive with a terrible swiftness.”


Khons felt the pain to come and felt his sorrow at his hand being upon its birth. “I did it to allow for another’s chance.”


Benedict said, “Sybermane.”


“You know of the one.”

“He is a dangerous card to play.”


“It is why I haven’t played him yet.”


“The cards were shuffled long ago. They were cut by Shadow and dealt by Time. You hold your hand upon your cards. Night must lay a card when it is his turn. You have seen the circle of play reversed at your chair. You get to lay two cards instead of one.”


Typhon added, “If you feel driven to, Night’s Image Master.”


Khons studied the two individuals. He looked within at his desires even more than he did them. “Even if I were to play another card, I might lay one that had nothing to say about Sybermane. There are others as deserving. Others that I love more deeply for their greater meaning to where I was found.”


Typhon shifted and his form became an ominous shadow, equine and dreadful. Khons nodded his head at the sign. The man moved his metal arm in a benediction. The three of them sat still and silent in memories shared.








After a period that only Typhon could measure, Benedict spoke, “The Outremare must be united. We need whatever they can bring to the table. The Obsidian could be useful to us. Sybermane is one of their number. He could be managed. I have managed him previously on Axildusk. His experience there will be useful.”


Khons said, “Useful to a point. He is still a threat to what has begun.”


“That is why he will need managing.”


“He has the advantage of being Obsidian.”


“Obstinate, you mean.”


“This too.”


“Gerard often says, 'A loose cannon is a danger to all on the deck it careens about on'. His appearance would require careful planning.”


“Nurturing as well. What if he were to be seduced? There are many who would turn his head.”


“Turn that head?”


“Any head can be turned by Thoughts.”


Typhon spoke, “Move him into the Realm or don’t. If not, then you will decide to play this other aspect of your hand’s holding?”


“I don’t know. They are almost too dear to me to part with.”


“You saved them from their dissolvement. It lies with you and only you. If not now, when?”


“What place would these have in Axildusk? Who would acknowledge who they were, who they might be again? I might do it and regret. They might cast their scorn on me and the Realm that denies them their due. It is fraught with risk.”

Typhon said, “One already walks there. His other parts are stilled on other, outer worlds but one strides about Axildusk in search of the knife that undid him and might yet re-constitute him. If you choose to aid him, the Night could reveal what he seeks.”


Benedict added, “Play a card to help him and a new suit of cards will join the deck. Which reminds me of the Astral Shrouds. They are a suit of cards that none seem to hold, which means that they are held by a player who is yet to ante. I worry of them and their holder. They must be considered. I know one of their kings. I will need to see him played if no one else will.”


Typhon said, “Use great care. Their time draws in.”


“I will keep your advice foremost, Typhon. Perhaps now is the point that you will reveal what brings you here?”


“Soon.”


“Soon... Soon to Time might be eternity to a man like me.”


“Or even a god like me.”

“Sooner than either of you would call long. Wait with me and see.”


The three individuals sat surrounded above, before and below -- by the stars, the periodic comet and their thoughts -- some noble and some beneath them.

There must be some way out of here

Said the joker to the thief

There's too much confusion

I can't get no relief

Businessmen, they drink my wine

Plowmen dig my earth

None of them along the line

Know what any of it is worth

No reason to get excited

The thief, he kindly spoke

There are many here among us

Who feel that life is but a joke

But you and I, we've been through that

And this is not our fate

So let us not talk falsely now

The hour is getting late

All along the watchtower

Princes kept the view

While all the women came and went

Barefoot servants, too

Outside, in the distance

A wildcat did growl

Two riders were approaching

The wind began to howl

Lyric by B.Dylan