Dar Tania 2: Set's Dream, page 1
Dar Tania II: Set’s Dream
Look for these other great titles!
Dar Tania – October 2016, “a 100 page story”, 105 pages
Malcor’s Story – November 2016, 400+ pages
Bomoki’s Gate – April 2017, 550+ pages
Dar Tania II: Set’s Dream – August 2017, 250+ pages
Other Forsaken Isles “100 Page Stories” – November 2017 on
Merakoran Agenda - 2018
For more information about the stories set in the Forsaken Isles, its characters, author, or whatever else inspires you to contact Dar Malcor:
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Edited by Tony Reynolds and Ben Duffy
© 2017 Eric K. Barnum, 1-5319880561
All rights Reserved except unless written permission granted by author.
Library of Congress: 20177910910
ISBN: 978-0-9981076-9-1
Table of Contents
Morbatten during the Reign of Dar Tania
Author’s Preface
Chapter 1 – Syliri and Bruce on Patrol
Chapter 2 – Hrax Terrej
Chapter 3 – Evil Answers
Chapter 4 – Mysterious Parchment
Chapter 5 – Brook Summerstone
Chapter 6 – Sean versus Bomoki
Chapter 7 – Fist of Graves
Chapter 8 – King Reset
Chapter 9 – Set’s Dream
Chapter 10 – The Pragmatist Order
Chapter 11 – Humiliation
Chapter 12 – Court of Patriarchs
Morbatten during the Reign of Dar Tania
Author’s Preface
You’ll enjoy this book more if you’ve read Dar Tania. If you have not, that book tells the story of Dar Tania, a 19-year-old girl who becomes the first high priestess of the Goddess Tiamat. She begins assembling the barbarian tribes into an empire under god emperor Alerius. Alerius is the fire dragon patriarch who serves Tiamat as an avatar in the world. In that story, Dar begins to learn what it means to be a cleric and, with the help of a paladin named Sean, they begin identifying and training paladins. In that story, Syliri the medusa was introduced as a friend and aid to Alerius.
Syliri is an eldar medusa. Alerius saved her from the madness of “Set’s Dream.” Trapped in abyssal sleep, Set dreams and his nightmares spawn the monsters that fill the worlds of the Forsaken Isles. Eldar creatures, like Syliri and the dragons, did not fall into Set’s Dream and become mortal. By not falling, they were able to retain their immortal will-based powers, though there are various twists to how their Eldar powers manifest. Readers of Malcor’s Story will remember the Khasran Lich and how powerful he was. Part of the lich’s power, different from Syliri’s, is that the lich was using magic mastered before Time. By the same token, the Tanian dragons, especially the Eldar Court of Patriarchs, function as unascended gods. Syliri never learned magic. When all other medusae fell, Alerius saved Syliri from falling. Also, Syliri had the maedar to contend with.
Before Time, the medusae were enslaved to their male counterparts, called the maedar. The maedar fully embraced Set’s worship. They hunted down and captured the medusae, and bred them in harems for armies. They were experimented on, tortured, bred, and made to fight against each other for the maedars’ enjoyment. Syliri led a rebellion that destroyed all maedar before Time moved. Bull gorgons, cockatrices, and other petrifying creatures (also stunning or paralyzing) were just normal creatures to the maedar, the way cows and chickens are normal to us. They were livestock and raised as food. Syliri’s rebellion and overthrow caught Alerius’ attention and was the reason he saved her.
So, how does Set’s Dream work and why does it matter? Though explained in other books, consider the somewhat random and brutal nature of monsters, even wild animals like a grizzly bear. They are this way because they do not experience the same world we do. The terror we feel when confronted with a wild animal is the remnant of Set’s Dream in our primordial makeup. It triggers adrenalin and fear. Our pulse races and sounds amplify. If we fight, shock and other primed senses allow us to continue with only a vague awareness of pain. If we survive, the pain comes later. That moment of fear is what creatures in Set’s Dream experience their entire lives. The grizzly bear does not see us as a non-threat. It sees us as the most threatening thing ever. By the same token, Syliri’s sisters who fell see humans as maedar. That humans run in terror from them, or attack them with weapons, makes it worse by reinforcing the wrong belief that humans are actual maedar. Fallen medusae never have a chance to have a positive encounter and, the next time, the terror of Set’s Dream is magnified by the real memory of what happened last time.
It’s not all bad though. Certain magics, like charm or summoning spells, allow the creatures to see the caster as they are. Freed of Set’s Dream for a while, the caster appears non-terrible and safe. Even in the dream, positive interactions, like giving food and water to a wounded wolf, can become reinforced enough that the animal eventually relaxes. They still view the caretaker as a threat but the small non-traumatized parts of their brain recognize the pattern of “this particular horrible monster brings me good things.” Only the caretaking of a god can allow true sentience and moral agency to exist for those trapped in Set’s Dream. Alerius and Syliri both hope that Syliri will become the goddess of the fallen medusae someday.
Syliri has an extra-cautionary side to Set’s Dream. Some of the creatures, and eldar too, caught in Set’s Dream before Time became powerful in it. Like the maedar, the medusae thrived in their use of the dream to augment their petrification ability, strength, speed, regeneration, and other powers. Where the maedar learned how to manipulate it to enslave others, the medusae were enslaved by it, and they loved its ability to capture their prey in stone. When Syliri finally broke free and led her sisters in rebellion, she did so by embracing Set’s Dream at a level – and understanding of the consequences – no other medusa had before. It’s as addicting to her as the most addictive drug imaginable. Alerius saved her from falling, but he also saved her from becoming just as bad as the maedar were. Hating the maedar, Syliri has no desire to be like them but the power is beyond tempting to her. Thanks to Alerius, she has learned some control.
In Morbatten, Syliri keeps a “garden” of petrified monsters and strange beasts that make up the world. This allows Dar Tania and her fighters to get up close and study these creatures as statues. Since Dar Tania elevated the barbarian tribes to a new nation just five years ago, Syliri and the Taysoran ranger, Bruce, have fallen in love. Together, they go out and explore the lands Alerius considers part of Morbatten. Hunting for anything that could hurt the tribespeople, and also on the lookout for new additions to the zoo, they encounter a slaad.
There are not many, if any, books written about the Slaadi. If you do an internet search on them, you’ll find pictures of fanged and clawed frogs. That’s not really what they are. They’re the ultimate worshipper of Set. Leave it to an abyssal god to take a simple Pha Rannic creation, like amphibians, and twist it into travesty of slaads.
The more powerful the slaad creating a transformant, and the more powerful the infected host, the more powerful the slaad that comes from this. A slaad’s own progression is limited only by their rate of consumption of intelligence. Because the fastest way to do this is to strengthen a chosen host, infect it, and then consume it directly, you have to imagine the Slaadi are a vast multi-level marketing scheme… of self-consumption. The safest advancement for any slaad is to grow a stable of lower level Slaadi and then consume them. When enough intelligence is consumed, an Azuros can rise to an Embros/red, which can rise to an Anthracos/gray, which can rise to an Atramenti/midnight.
At Azuros, the slaad acquires the knowledge and memories of those consumed. Driven by this trinity of “please Master,” “eat knowledge,” and “get gold,” the Azuros becomes aware of this self-consumptive chain and grow increasingly paranoid about preserving their own lives and identity. Enchantments in gold retain their properties across all realms. After all, a slaad, even the Fecundus, can alter its appearance. They’re the ultimate manipulators, as are any who serve Set.
For those familiar with Greek mythology, or contemporary fantasy writings, my portrayal of Syliri may be confusing. She is not a monster, because Alerius has freed her from Set’s Dream. She can shapeshift, though not very well. She has a humanoid form that she prefers when interacting with the people of Morbatten. She can also turn into a giant half-snake and half-humanoid. Her upper half remains humanoid. A few of her hair snakes are sentient, like the one Bruce names “Kelly.” When Syliri petrifies, she is using Set’s Dream, and hates it – and herself – for loving the power it brings her. Unlike other eldar in my writings up to this point, Syliri cannot use magic. Eldar magic is an expression of the eldar’s immortal will, which for Syliri is petrification through Set’s Dream.
Special thanks to Athena for gracing our mythologies with such a capricious story as Medusa. I’d also like to thank my illustrator Darko, my editors Tony and Ben, and those who have fired my imagination throughout my youth.
Chapter 1 – Syliri and Bruce on Patrol
“I can see this entire area dotted with farms and homesteads,” Bruce said to Syliri. Lying on the ground, the two looked over the ravine edge. It commanded a scenic valley view crisscrossed by a river. The va
Syliri found it strange that Bruce, the Ranger, hated cities, even other people. “For someone who hates civilization, your imagination seems fixated on it.” Syliri mimicked him, “Oh look, Syliri. This would be a great site for a stronghold! Look over there! I can see cattle grazing!” She elbowed him playfully. “I look and see hiding places for giants to ambush us. I see a river through a valley on a beautiful fall day. I see mountains. That’s all I see out here for five years now.”
Bruce rolled to face her. The faint green cast of her skin and the occasional serpentine scale along her bare arms up to her face made her look exotic and otherworldly in the bright daylight. Syliri wore a forest green head scarf that bound and quieted the snakes writhing about where human hair normally fell. The loose fabric blew in the wind. “I see the woman I love.” He stated it factually, without pause. “Since that first day.”
She smirked and caught his eye. “Giants,” she said. “Lots of giants. Only giants.” As a human, Bruce’s energy always made her smile. Listening to him say what he could someday see in the valley, she could also see farm fields, even smell the mill at work grinding seeds into flour.
He scanned the valley more carefully. “I count eight giants. They seem well-organized. So far, no sign of anything larger than hill giants. That’s good. I hate stone giants.” He pulled himself forward into a crouch and reached back for her hand. It still struck her how this human ranger seemed so completely unaffected by her monstrous nature. Even after five years of being together on missions just like this one, Bruce’s unconscious treatment of her like a lover left her feeling awestruck, and – when honest with herself - confused.
Far too many humans, just like Bruce, had taken sword and shield to destroy her and her sisters. Until Bruce, she could not even imagine holding hands with a human. If not for Alerius’ fascination with them, her bitterness would long ago have turned to hate. As a medusa, her hate would fill the world with statues of fighters and those sent to slay her. She shook the thoughts from her head. I’m not that type of gorgona. I’m here, with Bruce. He’s holding my hand. It’s sweet. Still, she had to force images of him turning against her from her mind. Set’s Dream worked that way. Always there, it poisoned good moments. Any crack in her thinking and the Dream would pull her back into that terrible world.
Time quieted and she unwillingly fixated on her green-tinted scales against his tan skin. The scaled ridges along her fingers entwined in his calloused ones made her question, yet again, the reality of this. What if Set has finally found a more insidious way to infiltrate nightmares into my waking moments? Her stomach clenched. She loved being with Bruce, but the constant onslaught of thoughts like this, coupled to her instinctive urge to protect herself by petrifying him, made it mentally exhausting. The gold ring Alerius gifted her before her first date with Bruce twinkled on her hand. The golden ring crossed her three middle fingers, each adorned with a polished emerald. She recalled Alerius’ words to her five years ago when he gave her the emerald ring. “This will fortify your self-control. Bruce is remarkable. I hope he knows how special you are.” Remembering Alerius’ words helped chase some of her dark thinking away.
Syliri wished to freeze this good moment forever, but quickly pushed it away from her thoughts. That’s how it begins. This is how it always begins and then, suddenly, I am standing surrounded by stone. “You don’t see,” she squeezed his hand as he pulled her up, “any other monsters? Perhaps something so terrible and horrible you need to kill it?” When teasing him this way, she always felt a giddy rush of dread that he might say the wrong thing. I’m testing him, yet again. It’s not fair to him, she thought. He deserves someone who isn’t always actively thinking, “I must not petrify him.”
He ignored her test. “I’m not sure the giants deserve to die,” he said rubbing his beard. “They are a threat though, should they realize how close they are to Dar Tania and the others. Still,” he kissed her hand before letting go. “We could always just note them on the map. I’m sure Dar would love to come down with a force of new paladins against hill giants. Of course, that’s the same as my killing them though, right? So today, do I chose to kill them now with you, or later with an army of Dar’s paladins?”
Bruce pulled his sword out about halfway and noted the blue runes gleaming all along its edge. “My sword wants to kill them.” He replaced it in the scabbard. “I wonder when I’ll be done killing innocent creatures. You?”
Syliri crouched next to him and put her head on his shoulder. She whispered, “Would it surprise you if I told you that I’ve never killed anything?”
“Come on, it’s time to head down. They’re rotating their shift positions,” Bruce said. “And, yes. It would surprise me. How is petrifying a creature different than killing them?”
The leaves made loud crunching sounds under their feet. Syliri tried to walk quietly, wondering for the hundredth time how Bruce, in all his armor, made less noise than she did. “I’m not wearing armor. Explain to me again how you’re so quiet?”
“I’m not quiet,” he replied. “The key is that I’m more quiet than you; we are more quiet than the giants are. We’re essentially inaudible to them. Stupid beasts.” He paused and pulled her close for a kiss.
They made their way down the steep edge until they slid to the bottom in a spray of leaves. Somehow, Bruce found footholds and grabbed onto tree roots to slow down. He always caught her too, always just before she slipped and needed his help. They moved forward until Bruce stopped and pointed to a nearly invisible line through the undergrowth drowning under the falling leaves. “A giant came through right here,” he said. “Or, some other very large creature.”
They followed the line and Syliri tried to mimic Bruce’s stepping pattern. “So,” she said slip-pressing her foot into the ground sideways rather than stepping straight down, “you use each step to push the leaves aside. This creates a cleared area before you step down into that area?”
Bruce nodded. “If you want to be extra ranger-like you can vary your gait and go side to side a bit. In fall, that makes your trail impossible to follow. It also creates random noise that more naturally blends into nature.” He caressed one of the more curious and aggressive snakes in her hair. He called that one “Kelly the Cobra.” The snake loved his touch as much as she did. “Think about your snakes, they hiss randomly. It makes it easy to pretend they aren’t even there. I don’t even notice them anymore. You want your own noise to be like that. If all the snakes hissed at the same time, or in a pattern, you’d definitely notice that.”
Suddenly, Bruce raised his hand in a fist. He stopped and slowly moved them both behind a clump of bushes. He pointed to a grouping of trees. Though not tall, the trees stood the height of three men. At first, Syliri could not see anything worth all the fuss, but then a movement caught her eye.
A giant hand scratched under a belt of putrid animal pelts tied together around the hill giant’s waist like a belt. She realized the trees were actually a single tree, more correctly a giant. If they wind blew their way, Syliri knew she would smell the monster. The barely cleaned pelts dribbled pus and worms as the giant scratched. It had so many leafy branches shoved into its armor and rotting clothes that she had confused it for a small stand of trees. The giant picked its nose and then snorted before spitting.
