Excerpts From Ordu - The Forging of a Soul
The bell rang. The revered Forgemaster sat there cross-legged. Around them, the Brethren, unlike the normal one or two guardian, fifteen now stood on both sides, standing tall next to a wall in the circular chamber they call the Kiln of Souls, hidden deep beneath the capital. Like statues they were, like statue they are, clad in heavy, baroque golden plates, spears and shields as tall as grown men.
Hardushen as they call the master, thought upon the upcoming forging. Their un-eyes transfixed upon the altar of their craft. Their bulky, yet sleek body permanently blackened by soot and etheric compounds. Intricate patterns carved on their non-skin, countless rings and bracelets line their limbs and blackened silk sash hung low over their chest. Their sagely face sculpted ever young, was tranquil and content.
The bell rang again. Hardushen stood and bowed upon the altar, to their tools and to the gods, for favor and protection for whats to come. Around them the thirty companions stepped forwards in perfect unison and all bowed. Behind Hardushen. A steady rhythm of steps bore closer. Servants were carrying another child, this one was huge, hulking beast of a statue, freshly carved, ready for fusing. The soon to be newborn was carried in front of Hardushen and placed on the altar. The Forgemaster knelt over the statue and prayed for strength while carving the proper runes of fusing. This one was special, creation of one this powerful was rarely made and last one, over a century ago cost them dearly.
The bell rang for the third and final time. Hardushen nodded. Final menial-servants scurried off the chamber and the Brethren raised their shields and lowered their weapons again in perfect unison. The Forgemaster began their words of power, a low murmur that voiced impossibly through their non-lungs. The ground shook gently as the ancient mechanism called the city of Amaran began to feed the ritual. Somewhere far above someone would lose their soul for this newborn being, a kindling for a new life. The air froze as the dimensional barriers were unraveled one by one in front of their eyes. Hardushen took their Adamantine hammer and with the other hand, clutched the statue. The seals of the world broke and the Veil pulled back at last and freeze turned to raging fires as soul-world opened it's maw. Time stood still as Hardushen plunged their hammer inside, feeling it, calling the insane energies of the world between worlds. There! They pulled the hammer back and brought it down with all their might just above the statue, striking something invisible yet solid. A massive crack sounded the room and the tear widened as if the hammer had shattered it. A mass of something pulled itself out the tear, forming itself, first into tentacle, then hand and then into hunched, scaled beast with too many eyes and too many teeth. It roared and many more joined it. All misshapen beings. Like mockery of animals and races of the world. Some bore scythes for hands, others bodies were covered in razor sharp nails, while some were serpentine, with evil eyes and with too many arms. Hardushen plunged their hammer back inside, as all around them the Brethren met their roaring enemies in complete silence. Hacking and slashing the un-beings. Meanwhile the Forgemaster stood in a maelstrom of fire and raw soul-stuff and searched, their eyes closed, feeling it, reaching out for anything powerful enough. Something pulled, without hesitation Hardushen pulled back and smashed the hammer above the statue again and again. The clarion of smites echoing above the raging battlefield. Going back into whirlwind of souls and back, forging, fusing. Around them the battle was joined by more Brethren as more and more abominations poured out of the rift. None dared to attack the Forgemaster who's authority kept it open. Who kept them alive here and gave them a taste of freedom.
Then it was done, the statue was filled. Hardushen uttered another word of power and the mechanism roared in great protest. Finally the rift began to knit itself back together. Most abominations shrieked and fled back while they could, other fought with renewed vigor as they tried to get the last laugh with blades and terrible words. Then it was over. Then the newborn giant opened their eyes and rose to full height. And unlike the usual newborn Soulfused whose minds are yet to form, this one spoke with cold, true intelligence. -"I live?" it's voice booming in the chamber. It stared at Hardushen and the astonished Brethren. -"Father" and bowed at the Forgemaster, whose hammer dropped to the floor. If the fused could weep, Hardushen would have wept tears of joy and sorrow, for they knew they could never make anything greater than this ever again.
Hardushen as they call the master, thought upon the upcoming forging. Their un-eyes transfixed upon the altar of their craft. Their bulky, yet sleek body permanently blackened by soot and etheric compounds. Intricate patterns carved on their non-skin, countless rings and bracelets line their limbs and blackened silk sash hung low over their chest. Their sagely face sculpted ever young, was tranquil and content.
The bell rang again. Hardushen stood and bowed upon the altar, to their tools and to the gods, for favor and protection for whats to come. Around them the thirty companions stepped forwards in perfect unison and all bowed. Behind Hardushen. A steady rhythm of steps bore closer. Servants were carrying another child, this one was huge, hulking beast of a statue, freshly carved, ready for fusing. The soon to be newborn was carried in front of Hardushen and placed on the altar. The Forgemaster knelt over the statue and prayed for strength while carving the proper runes of fusing. This one was special, creation of one this powerful was rarely made and last one, over a century ago cost them dearly.
The bell rang for the third and final time. Hardushen nodded. Final menial-servants scurried off the chamber and the Brethren raised their shields and lowered their weapons again in perfect unison. The Forgemaster began their words of power, a low murmur that voiced impossibly through their non-lungs. The ground shook gently as the ancient mechanism called the city of Amaran began to feed the ritual. Somewhere far above someone would lose their soul for this newborn being, a kindling for a new life. The air froze as the dimensional barriers were unraveled one by one in front of their eyes. Hardushen took their Adamantine hammer and with the other hand, clutched the statue. The seals of the world broke and the Veil pulled back at last and freeze turned to raging fires as soul-world opened it's maw. Time stood still as Hardushen plunged their hammer inside, feeling it, calling the insane energies of the world between worlds. There! They pulled the hammer back and brought it down with all their might just above the statue, striking something invisible yet solid. A massive crack sounded the room and the tear widened as if the hammer had shattered it. A mass of something pulled itself out the tear, forming itself, first into tentacle, then hand and then into hunched, scaled beast with too many eyes and too many teeth. It roared and many more joined it. All misshapen beings. Like mockery of animals and races of the world. Some bore scythes for hands, others bodies were covered in razor sharp nails, while some were serpentine, with evil eyes and with too many arms. Hardushen plunged their hammer back inside, as all around them the Brethren met their roaring enemies in complete silence. Hacking and slashing the un-beings. Meanwhile the Forgemaster stood in a maelstrom of fire and raw soul-stuff and searched, their eyes closed, feeling it, reaching out for anything powerful enough. Something pulled, without hesitation Hardushen pulled back and smashed the hammer above the statue again and again. The clarion of smites echoing above the raging battlefield. Going back into whirlwind of souls and back, forging, fusing. Around them the battle was joined by more Brethren as more and more abominations poured out of the rift. None dared to attack the Forgemaster who's authority kept it open. Who kept them alive here and gave them a taste of freedom.
Then it was done, the statue was filled. Hardushen uttered another word of power and the mechanism roared in great protest. Finally the rift began to knit itself back together. Most abominations shrieked and fled back while they could, other fought with renewed vigor as they tried to get the last laugh with blades and terrible words. Then it was over. Then the newborn giant opened their eyes and rose to full height. And unlike the usual newborn Soulfused whose minds are yet to form, this one spoke with cold, true intelligence. -"I live?" it's voice booming in the chamber. It stared at Hardushen and the astonished Brethren. -"Father" and bowed at the Forgemaster, whose hammer dropped to the floor. If the fused could weep, Hardushen would have wept tears of joy and sorrow, for they knew they could never make anything greater than this ever again.
This is essentially how the Soulfused are created, except it's almost never this dangerous. Essentially, the more powerful the created Soulfused, the more powerful souls are needed, which in turn attracts more demons and other abyssal creatures. In comparison, when your everyday servant Soulfused is created, there is usually just one guard with Forgemaster and even then they are often not needed.
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