"Thug: An unofficial, though allegedly sanctioned, term for a wizard that belongs to a cult whose members enter or manipulate the aether. In truth, these cults (which, by all accounts, are little more than organized gangs) are not always considered by scholars to stand among the other, acknowledged wizard societies since there seems to be little or no connection between the first thugs and the Thief or his followers. Various accounts of the thugs attribute to them bizarre and fantastic power, but little or no evidence has been found to support these claims. The first thugs appeared in Ithamar, though stories of them quickly spread. They are most often associated with urban areas and underground crime."

He is right that there is little accurate information on the thugs. I have included stories of them in the Corpus, but these are not always consistent and the picture they paint is far from conclusive. As for the "aether," this author's treatment of it is weak. Where did I read a better?

[In different ink]: "The aether is the spiritual representation of the mortal world that binds all entities together. To interact with the aether is the manipulate the most fundamental processes of creation." This explains why the thugs were thought to be so powerful. If they were capable of truly manipulating, or even entering the aether, there is no reasonable way to predict what they could do.

"Theurgist: A member of an highly influential and feared wizard secret society of the same name (i.e., the Theurgists). Theurgists use their understanding of the four faces, and the way they interact with with world, to make complicated alliances and pacts with the animating spirits that reside in the world around them. From these pacts, they earn power, knowledge, and protection from their enemies. The Theurgists are often thought to dabble in necromancy. Most wizards claim to know at least one theurgist, but it is likely that few do, or rather, if they do, they do not know it."

It is such a sad constant that those who wield great power seldom use it to garner respect and love. Instead, they sow seeds that blossom into fear and mistrust. It is not difficult to see the motivation for so many years of hatred and terror aimed at the wizard cults.

"Thaumaphile: A scholar who devotes his study to the understanding of the history and usage of various types of supernatural power. Thaumaphiles may or may not be associated with any of the various wizard cults, and some, occasionally, have association with a temple or god. As a rule, thaumaphiles claim to have no power of their own, but their understanding of the underlying theory that governs the power of others has, according to various legends and histories, allowed them to manipulate magical energy. For the most part, thaumaphiles keep to themselves, or at least keep their research secret, since they are not generally well-received by wizards or priests."

I read an odd analogy in some other book--which book was it?--that tried to explain the thaumaphile. It used more modern terminology: wizards are like authors, and thaumaphiles are like literary critics. Thus, the thaumaphile does not create anything of his own, but instead, illuminates or degrades the work of others. Before learning of these strange men and women, I had not thought of supernatural power as something that could be enhanced or devalued through the understanding of another.

"Seer: A member of the secret society known to the world as the Augurs of Manafar. As with many of the wizard cults, the term seer has now come to refer to a wider range of practitioners, though such a usage is a sure sign of arcane ignorance. Historically, seers were an offshoot cult of the theurgists, though were the latter use their communion with spirits and the awareness that comes from the elements to manipulate the world around them, seers use a similar mastery to predict the probabilities of certain occurances. As such, they have often been found in the employ of various war leaders, kings, and other open-minded government entities."

It is fascinating to see the way in which these wizard cults proliferated. From one single origin, they became as numerous, varied, and in some ways as antagonistic as the various priesthoods.

"Relic: An item imbued with mana from a god as a result of its proximity to that god, whether that proximity is from an isolated incident, or is regular. In modern times, the vast majority of the power wielded by priests and other heavenly-minded characters comes from their use of relics. In most cases, relics come from the time of the crusades, when the gods supposedly walked regularly among mortals. A few rare relics appear to come from the time before the Migrations, though explanations of that seem to differ widely depending on the source. Members of various priesthoods claim that there are new relics today, though there is little empirical evidence to support such a claim."

It is clear where the sympathies of the author of this dictionary lie. I wonder if he even tried to temper his opinions of the god-fearing, or if he simply let his feelings loose. I suspect the former, since not every entry dealing with the gods is as acidic as this one. I wonder how a lexicon from the other side would read.

"Mana: An individual's personal authority. In all but a few legendary cases, the only individuals with mana powerful enough to manipulate the world around them are the gods themselves, who are able to bestow their authority on those who serve them Thus, priests referring to their own mana are almost always referring to the way in which they direct the mana of their god."

A few legenary cases. Interesting.

"Mage (Iskandra), or Magus (Souther Rim, Freebelt); pl. Magi: Practitioners who combine a mastery of the elemental tongue with physical and spiritual manipulations of the manifestations of the four faces of the elements in order to create effects. Magi use the structure and grammar of the elemental language as a guide to the relationship of objects and ideas. True magi are commonly acknowledged as the wisest and most powerful of all wizards, though in truth, true magi are actually quite rare, as their arts are difficult, time comsuming, and dangerous, since much of it requires the acquisition of knowledge from Azho-Eochaid."

There is much to say about the elemental tongue. I have worked long to master it and still feel as though I am a novice at it. In essense, the twenty-eight concepts that make up the four faces of the elements are the basis of the tongue, though there are countless other levels beneath each concept, and obviously grammatical issues as well. It is fascinating, though obvious once one understands, that anyone would find a map in the tongue that would lead to supernatural effects. I've heard that gipsies use something similar in their witchcraft, but it seems to be much more instinctive, rather than rational.

Azho-Eochaid: The Sundered Realm, a common term for the nations that inhabited the world in the ancient past, long before the Migrations. The exact fate of these nations is still unclear, as is their relationship to the gipsies, but they were, in the days of the Merchant's League, a constant source of curiosity, treasure and lost knowledge, and danger, since the ruins of that lost place often seemed to attract the Netherwild.

"Apothecary: Students of the mortal body and of the effects of various combinations of substances found in the natural, and in some cases, the supernatural world. Apothecaries are not, in an of themselves, wizards, but they are often very well versed in the various theories and methods of other practitioners, and so are often considered a wizard cult. Apothecaries are generally associated with guilds."

There are various opinions of the apothecaries found in various records. They are almost always associated with some kind of healing, whether it is through elixers and potions, or through brutal surgery, but there is also a tradition of their association with poisons, durgs, the underworld, and various other darker thoughts. Since most ordinary people had very little contact with so-called wizards, apothecaries took on a reputation as sort of witch-doctors, or spiritual leaders, though in a more urban setting. There are many stories of people who, when there was no where else to turn, sought the help of a local apothecary, who was able to bring to bear any of a variety of bizarre resources.

[I included these out of order simply because the note on the thaumatic entry had relevance to other entries throughout. I must have seen references to "faces" and such enough in earlier entries that I decided to finally define it. From here forward, I will keep them in the order they follow in the glossary.]:

"Alchemist: A member, or in some cases an associate, of the secret society known publically as the Balefialu. Alchemists believe that the elements as they exist in mortality are impure and corrupt. They seek to coax out and manipulate pure forms of the elements in an attempt to perfect themselves. For the most part, alchemists deal with the mask and on the symbolic relationships between the various faces, especially the mask as a symbol for the true face."

If I remember correctly, balefialu means "purifiers." I had not realized that alchemy was so closely tied to that secret society. Ultimately, surely, they were separate.

[I have found my interest in history waning a bit, and so thought I would begin on tomes of various other sorts. I will return to Merkado and his Golden Horn in the future, as my notes and comments on his work are, obviously, quite extensive.

The following comes from an untitled glossary I found many years ago discussing the history of magic]:

"Thaumatic (also thaumaturge, thaumaturgist, thaumatist): a practitioner whose interest is in the relationship between the various elemental faces, specifically the true face and the mask. Thaumatics strive to unify the true face and the mask using signs, substances, and occasionally magic words. The science of thautaticism builds on the sympathies inherent between the various elemental faces and seeks to blur the lines between them in order to create various effects."

I have seen the words "elemental faces" too often in this book not to inspire curiosity. The following is from Maven's The Art of the Thief:

"The mortal world is made up of seven elements, [or Materials?]. Each of these seven elements have four faces: a true face, a hidden face or mask, a dynamic face or force, and a fundamental face. The true face and the fundamental face are represented by the mortal body and spirit, respectively, while the mask and the force are seen in the physical world. Although the four faces are each part of the same element, they have different attributes, manifestations, and purposes. [The diagram below shows the four faces of each of the seven elements. Generally, the true face is considered the primary representation of an element].

True Face Hidden Face (Mask) Dynamic Face (Force) Fundamental Face
Eye Sun Violation Perception
Sinew Metal Destruction Emotion
Fat Dust Creation Hierarchy
Breath Wind Motion Self
Blood Rain Rest Deception
Bone Wood Protection Connection
Hair Snow Decay Isolation

[My other duties have distracted me for too long. When men speak of priorities, they ofttimes ignore certain responsibilities--to family, to the Illuminator, and so forth--which exist in a realm beyond the level of priority. To the honest, just man, they cannot be ignored. They are a payment that must be made, else all else we build is reduced to dust.

But to the task at hand. My notes on the Netherwild leave off here, but as it is a topic which is sure to resurface, I am content with that. And thus we move on with The Golden Horn:]

"There is something in the personality of the Cilanese that sets them apart from all other inhabitants of the realm, and seems to support the gipsy-interbreeding theory. The descendents of the other Immigrant races, for example, live in abject terror of the sudden and unannounced infestation of the Netherwild. Thousands of stories, legends, and pieces of folklore exist to attest to this. Indeed, the very existence of organizations such as the Merchant's League, and more appropriately, the so-called Paper Knights, attests that the vast majority of the world believes in the danger of this strange, supernatural phenomenon.

"On the other hand, and equally as well attested, is the indifference of the gipsies, who ignore or revere the Netherwild, depending on the source. In this, the most obvious evidence is again a mercantile one. That much of the legendary wealth of the gipsies was cultivated through the creation and sale of azhedul, or stain-oil, is a documented, historical fact.

"But the Cilanese seem truly to take from both of these traditions. Indeed, in Cilan one can find those who fear the Wild as most men do, but on the whole, they simply consider it another aspect of the climate, much as the harsh snows that occasion the mountains, or the flooding of the river. They do not ignore it, nor do they love it, but they possess a stubbornness about it that, when combined with their reputation as demon-worshippers, has contributed much to the prevailing and popular attitudes of this day concerning the Cilanese."

Perhaps he discusses this later, but this seems to be a religious trait. The original Narti were ancestor and spirit worshippers, at least as my research indicates, and they always held ties with the various spirits of nature. To them, an resurgance of the Netherwild must have seemed like some sort of message from the divinities they saw all around them. This must have led in some part to the demon issue, as demons are and were always wont to imitate and connive in their attempts for reassimilation in the stream of the holy one.

"A man bought a parcel of land, though it was unknown to him that beneath it churned an underground spring. Each morning he would walk across his land and find portions of it soggy and swamp-like. As the day progressed, the seepage would dry up, but the next morning, it would return, though never in the same place.

"Thus it is with the Netherwild. Scholars suggest that it is a sort of stain, a seepage from some other, hellish realm that appears for a time, and then is dried by some unknown sun, only to seep through again at a different time and in a different place. Of course, that says nothing of the effect this stain has on those who are exposed to it, but it is a start."

[The following was scribbled in after the last note, in different ink]:

I found it! Finally, a description, though from some time after Saxo's death. This comes from a thaumatic, or wizard, in 278 prior, snugly in the middle of the Thaumaturgical Revolution. I had to piece together various fragments to read it properly and alas, there is no name left in the remnants, though there is a piece of the fellow's description of himself: "a gentleman of sightly stature and bearing, whose physical appointments are but augments to [his] mental prowess...." It is ironic vengeance that such a pillar of his age should be forgotten and his work torn asunder. I am certain the work was not written by one of the Greats of that time, but it is exactly what I was looking for: a concise definition of the Netherwild. Of course, it cannot be all encompassing, but it will do:

"When men speak of "the Netherwild," most often they are referring to an unstable, geographical phenomenon that has been reported, at one time or another throughout the written record, in nearly every square mile of Isumbras. In other circumastances, the wielder of the term might be referring to the supposed entity or entities that has been long supposed to rule or control the said phenomenon. In order to describe this peculiar environ, we will be greatly aided in preparing first an analogy."

"Another albeit circumstantial evidence to the connection between the eastern Narti and the Asanir [the Cilanese and the gipsies] is their peculiar relationship to the Wild."

Here again he mentions the Netherwild, and in this case, discusses the abnormal relationship between the Cilanese and that bizarre phenomenon. But he does not here, or anywhere for that matter, provide a base line from which such abnormal behavior is to be judged. I will have to find a true description of this thing and reference it here for further use. Of course, I have heard of the thing, and read anecdotes about it, but I am still not clear on what it is.

"Though there are many other examples, the two cited, and indeed the folkloric tradition in general, will suffice to suggest that, though common tradition suggests that gipsies never entered the Cilanese swamps (except for their coming of age journey, as I have mentioned), the Cilanese Narti did indeed encounter gipsies in their journeys south, and that in fact, their cultures seem to have assimilated each other.

"This is certainly apparent in the significant cultural differences between the Iskandrans and the Cilanese, as well as the long-lived tension between them, but it also seems clear in an examination of the Cilanese culture itself. They have become a supernatural people, keeping themselves continually under th influence of strange and subtles magicks. Entirely different from the external, elemental- and force-driven powers granted by the gods or painstakingly wrestled by the wizards, this swamp magic seems instead to be like smoke, clinging to them and permeating their lives.

"Of course, they are not all such witches or practitioners. In fact, of late, the Cilanese have begun to exert a presence in the mercantile drama opened by the League, but there is still a faint air of it about them, and deep behind the diplomatic face they have erected, there are still demon summoners and black magicians. It is a heritage they will not easily escape, if indeed escape is their purpose.

"I will not now speak of the demons, though they are perhaps the most salient feature of Cilan. They deserve a treatment of their own, and shall receive it in due time. Suffice it to say, the Cilanese, now a hybid of Narti and gipsy blood, sought the power that was to be had from their ancestors, and from the spirits of the world around them, and more importantly, from the ancenstors of the spirts around them."

Merkado is wise to give separate treatment to the demons. He himself surely knew that their influence and taint spread far beyond those wicked fools who ripped them from stagnation and cast them into the world again. It is a thing that is alien to me, though I suppose it is in the end a manifestion of the addiction of mortality and stagnation that threatens to shackle all men.

"Another piece of evidence is a bit of gipsy lore itself. The first (and most complete) version I have heard is sadly and likely the least accurate, as it came from the lips of several women in the Roots of the city of Iskandra. I do not imply that they themselves are unreliable, but the distance of the slave race (or the morrokin, as they are often called) from their gipsy ancestors is quite large, and it would be foolhardy to assume their traditions have not changed. However, I have heard variations of the same belief from other sources, and hints of variations from others, enough that I am convinced that it is a valid descendant of a legitimate gipsy belief.

"Those women explained to me the morrokin understanding of the duality of humanity, or, the difference between men and women. Hidden in their words was much that dealt with the state of mortality, along with its virtues and dangers, a discussion in which I will not engage myself now. But on the surface, their philosophy can be stated thus:

"A man is a traveler, an astral vagabond in search of light and truth, who has become trapped on earth by the labyrinth of the mortal elements. A woman is a native being of the mortal realm, one to whom the labyrinth is naught but familiar halls, and though she seeks the light and truth beyond the walls of her home, she has no engine with which to pass beyond. Thus, the gispy cultures, in past years, revered marriage and the union of man and woman, because they believed each is crucial for either to progress.

"But it is not of such progression that we are now interested. We have allowed our attention on ancient Cilan to wander and it is time to repair our interest."

It is truly sad that intercourse with the gipsies in those days could not lead to more productive ends than slavery and slaughter. So much that was good and true in their cultures seems to have been lost, even to the discerning eyes of the modern age. It appears even Saxo was at a loss concerning them at times.

"The Cilanese are a peculiar people. It is commonly held that the gipsies do not frequent that marshy land, in fact I myself have written it in this book, but if one examines beyond the understanding of the common man, a different picture emerges. The lore of a place, of a culture, has an infinitely more accurate memory than any of the folk who claim that place or culture.

"Ignoring even the obsure hints and tales that waft only in the cold humidity of Cilan itself, we can find hints of what seems to be the truth in many of the various stories that are told on any given night, in any given ale house, in any of the cities of the world. I admit, I have listened to my poor friend Fiero Dul tell many of these stories, and at the time, the were nothing more than pieces of disassociated culture, the result of the more common intercource between men that has come in the wake of the Merchants League.

"A good example is the bizarre tale 'The Fox Groom,' which I'm told is a favorite in the high pass inns of the Tubalothes, though in actuality it originated in western marches of Cilan. Though it seems unlikely that any reader is unfamiliar with this very common story, a brief summary seems in order."

An odd lack of foresight for someone like Saxo.

"In the story, the heroine sends her brave betrothed off to some distant war, from which he never returns. The distraught heroine braves many dangers and seeks out the supernatural powers of various oracles, all of whom tell her the same thing: her lover will return, but he will be a vagabond, a lost soul. The heroine returns and works hard to provide a home for her vagabond lover. Some days later, a fox comes to the home looking for food. The heroine, believing it to be her betrothed, woos him and marries him. Of course, in the end her true lover returns, indeed a vagabond as the oracles insisted, only to find his true love devoured by the fox.

"Remembering that in Cilanese (and to a lesser degree, Iskandran) lore, the fox is characterized as the epitome of the lost soul, the vagabond, makes one part of this story easier to comprehend. But even without such knowledge, we find in this tale a hint about the early days of Cilan, one that we find in other stories as well."

I will have to find this "Fox Groom" story, and the others he is discussing. I wonder what they are?

"As should be expected, there are any number of tales and legends to explain the appearance of Enuk's Wall, the vast, mortal-made barrier that sealed the realm of Isumbras from the lands to the north.

"The prevalent story, though even this version has many variations, is that Enuk was a half-god king from across the sea, summoned by the gods to Isumbras to defend it from invasions from the north. After years of warfare, Enuk saw that the hordes from the north were too numerous and he finally called upon the help of elemental mountain spirits, who crafted for him the wall. With the consent of the gods, Enuk had himself encased in the wall, so the power of his spirit and prowess would make the wall impenetrable and unscalable.

"Another, less fantastic tale is similar in theme, though not in execution. This version suggests that Enuk was the king of the last tribe of Narti to immigrate from the north. In the most common version of this tale, his people came to Isumbras fleeing moral degeneration. They settled in the mountains north of Cilan and prospered for some time until the sinister fingers of wickedness began to creep into their society from their northern heritage and intercourse. Thus, Enuk assembled the good men of his kingdom and together, for nearly forty years, they build the wall. Enuk himself died some time before the completion of the wall and, like his mythical counterpart, was buried in the wall itself as a symbol of purity and goodness standing against evil."

From Asdod's Architecture of the Old Worlds: "Enuk's Wall is an astounding feat. It is nearly fifty miles long, over five hundred feet at its tallest point, and seamlessly integrated with the rocky mountains in which it dwells. For years, adventurers have sought a weakness in it, a way through the fabled treasures of the north, to no avail."

Enuk's Wall completed--approx. 1750 prior

[And back to The Golden Horn]:

"Though it might seem expected to continue to pursue the more imperialistic Iskandran Narti, let us instead return our gaze to the vast, forested land of Cilan and the people who claimed its marches.

"The truth is that the misty lands of Cilan are in some ways as mysterious as the far of dominion of Castille. The people there are almost religious isolationists, who seem to hold themselves above those around them. If one is able to read the tomes of history that are now held as scripture from those early days, one learns pieces of that distant puzzle, though admittedly, the histories have been dismantled and spread about and now make little sense without the proper knowledge.

"If their lore is to be believed, Cilan was once an active, thriving colony of whatever far-off kingdom had sent them out. There does seem to be some proof that the immigration into the region came in part because of some war or aggression, but it is clear, at least to the Cilanese, that the first immigrants were sent into Isumbras with the purpose of establishing a foothold on it."

It is odd that such imperialism was capable of the kind of isolationist implosion that seems to have followed. How is that the Iskandran Narti seemed to develop their inherited worldview of growth and the Cilanese Narti turned in on themselves? Likely, there are answers to follow.

[This is from a story that I read once. I have seen it in print several times, from several different sources. Because I was just quoting from Saxo Merkado, I will use his version]:

“I once heard of two brothers who came to the Wild in search of something. I don’t remember what. The elder brother was jealous of the younger, who was accompanied by his beautiful, loyal wife. She would not leave his side, even in the Wild. Though he pretended brotherly kindness, the elder hated his brother and could think of nothing but the body of his brother’s wife. Her breasts were so round, her skin so pure. Whenever she moved or breathed, his hatred burned more brightly and presently he knew she must be his. But he would not take her. Her passion must be as willing as his to satisfy his lust, so he devised a plan. He drew his brother away and murdered him, thinking to blame it on the denizens of the wood. The wife would turn to him for comfort and the silk of her skin would his. But the Netherwild was more devious than the man, and when the noble wife came to the brother’s cries, she saw her husband standing over the broken body of his brother. She could not know that what she saw was but a shroud, a cloak that had been cast over the elder brother’s skin. He himself did not know at first, but he was cunning and quickly realized the enchantment. He did not understand, but he wasted no time on it. The woman fell to the trick and the killer knew the warmth of her passion. He led his prize from the Wild and they lived together for many years, though the woman often spoke to her priest, concerned how wild and violent her husband had become. I heard the man finally succumbed to the guilt of what he had done. He confessed himself to his brother’s wife, then left and sought his fate and death with his brother in the Wild. The poor woman killed herself.”

"And of course, whether Iskandran or Cilanese, the Narti, shortly after their immigration, encountered the Netherwild."

In one of his strange omissions, presumably fueled by the belief that no one would ever be ignorant of the Netherwild, Saxo brushes past it. Have I seen a good description of the Wild anywhere? I have been exposed to it in countless stories and writings, but has anyone actually sat down and described what it is? Does anyone, even now, truly know what it is?

"Of course, almost immediately after the inception of this second (and in their minds, much more grievous) exile, the soon-to-be Iskandran Narti encountered the westernmost tribes of gipsies [properly called the Asanir].

"I have expended considerable time and resources to learn why the gipsies never roamed, in their perpetual nomadry, in the swamps and forests of Cilan, and indeed still do not, unless their need is dire, but alas, I have overturned nothing but muttered stories of ancient fears and lands that are both sacred and cursed. I have gleaned that in the old days, in the early years after the Migrations and before, gipsy boys of the western tribes were sent into the the swamps in order to receive their first tattoos (which were inscribed on the inside of the right thigh, or so I've heard, the somatic point representing the physical body) from some unknown source. If this ritual was indeed followed, its practice has long since died."

I'm sure that I read elsewhere that gipsy girls received their first tattoos in the same place, but at their father's, or nearest paternal male relative's, hand. I think at Merkado's time, this was the case for both boys and girls.

"Like everything that is aboriginal to the realm, any clear history of the gipsy tribes is nothing more than rumor, conjecture, and a patchwork of ancient lore."

Ironically, Saxo's description here applies now to his own time, even with his copious attempts to prevent such a haze.

"It is unclear, even to the discerning scholar, how much time passed, but, using evidence and logic, it can be determined that it must have been a fair amount: when the Cilanese Narti appeared in Isumbras they were colonists, fleeing some manner of oppression certainly, but a peaceful oppression (if such a thing exists); when the Narti who would become the Iskandrans came into the region, they were surely refugees from some kind of war or aggression, and thus, their state was much more desperate. On the other hand, the Cilanese colonies had had ample time to develop their civilization and culture enough to act as they did next.

"As the to-be Iskandrans moved south, finding some hope in the lush land of their kinsfolk, the Cilanese colonists, who had over the years become severe isolationists, closed their borders and forcibly repelled the migration of the Iskandrans. Of course they did not know it, but their actions at that time would lead to one of the major currents of action that would mark the history of the region. Pushed to their limit, the Iskandrans were forced to turn west onto the barren moors and, with every step, their tempraments hardened and became more bitter."

It seems clear that the shock of encountering the Netherwild, and the resources required to defend against its malice, must have contributed to the Cilanese response. History is always wont to villify, but there are always reasons behind actions, and I've found, more often than not, those actions are selfish, but not overtly evil.

"It is well nigh impossible to understand exactly how the division of land during that first wave of Narti migrations was adjuticated, as in this case, the fog of history is augmented by the equally thick fog of emotion and the two, if I may briefly mix my metaphors, do not ferment well together. But a careful examination of the original records of the time, mixed with the application of a small bit of wisdom allows the distinguishing scholar to present an image that can, with reasonable faith, be assumed to be at least partially correct."

Unfortunately, by this point, I have no way of verifying Merkado's sources and his assessment of the situation, which has been echoed by others, has passed through history as the truth.

"The first Narti appear to have been colonists from some Northern empire, sent to explore the vast and fertile lands south of the Frostgate. They came, as everyone knows, through Enuk's Pass, though is was certainly not called that then. I have seen or heard of many different names given to the pass in those days, which demonstrates the ambivilence of the colonists as a group concerning the venture. The names include 'the Lonely Pass,' 'the Ravine of Silver and Gold,' 'the Road to Stagnation' (or oddly and alternately, in one source, 'the Road to Illumination'), 'the Grey Way,' and even 'the Birthing Canal.'

"It must have been very clear to them in what direction they should expand and settle. To the west, there was nothing but seeming desolation onthe moors, while to the south was a lush forest and swamp, that appears to have been similar to the environment in their homeland (which has been, incorrectly, referred to as 'Nartisia'; all sources agree that the original kingdom was named simply 'Nart')."

Nart is similar to the elemental word for "South," which is "Narat" (or "wind on the left hand of the Sun"). I have never heard of a kingdom called Nart, neither in history or lore. From which kingdom did these original colonits come?

"If we accept the worldview of the Narti immigrants [which is to say, the Iskandrans and the Cilanese]--and there seems to be wisdom in doing so, if for no other reason than to establish a base line from which we can examine the development of the region, as long as we acknowledge the historical instability of that tradition--then the first immigrants to Isumbras came more than a thousand years before the Sacrilege and the First Crusade, which is to say more than two thousand years prior [to the inception of the merchant's reckoning of time, or Merchant Reckoning, MR]."

The Migrations--2200-2000 prior
The "Sacrilege"--944 prior
The First Crusade--926 prior
The Second Crusade--903 prior
The Third Crusade--795 prior

"Though many groups have claimed the honor, the truth is that no one really knows who was the first group to migrate from the North into the so-called Golden Horn. To be sure, the most vocal claim comes from the Iskandran priests, which is to say the descendants of the Narti refugees from some nameless, forgotten war in the land beyond the Gate. And just as sure, the Iskandrans themselves were not the first. Even they grudgingly admit that the ancestors of their hated cousins the Cilanese--who were also Narti refugees, apparently fleeing from the same war--arrived in the region first, which ultimately led to the bitterness and intolerance that has become so characteristic of the Iskandran personality (a statement that is defended in the following sections on Iskandra).

"The Narti, however, do not have the only claim. Of course, the gipsy people (who are sometimes referred to as aborigines or in their own tongue as the Children of Asan, or the asanir) seem to have inhabited the realm since long before any of the other peoples, perhaps even hailing from the ancient kingdoms that once controlled the Horn.

"But there are yet other peoples to consider. Evidence is mounting from the West that the Castillians were here for some time before the Narti, and I have spoken with more than one arcane culturalist who claim that the Madar clans in the south, once thought to be splinter gipsy tribes, are actually more akin to the Narti and the Castillians, and that further more, their cultures seem to predate the canonical dates of the Migration taught in Iskandran schools."

The vast veil of time is truly difficult to pierce.

[Perhaps I will address these topics more thematically than I had originally planned, for as I set about my library for a place to start, beyond those mere scraps that were the beginning of this all, I came to the first books I owned of my own accord. Certainly, at the palace there was an unparalleled library, but in the wild, so to speak, books were, for a time, difficult to come by. It is appropriate that those first volumes, which I procured from a strange old man in the grim foothills of the Frostgate, make up a nearly-complete set of Saxo Merkado's The Golden Horn: A Geographical and Occasional Cultural Survey, ca. 147 MR. It was to these that I first turned when Nicodemus left my door, and thus it seems fitting that it is to them again that I turn in this new undertaking]:

"From what I can gather, the common usage of the term Isumbras is far from its original intent. Today, when you or I refer to Isumbras, we are of course discussing the entire region, from the Frostgate to the Southern Sentinels, from the ocean to the Skybiters, and everything contained therein.

"As has been likely passed from parent to child through countless tales and lore, in every village and homestead, the word "Isumbras" means simply "The Golden Horn." Of course, the origin of such a name is described in as many tales and pieces of lore, each of them with their own national or cultural flavor. In a trading post in Cilan, I heard a story about a hunter in the days when the demons were men who sought a wild bull with golden blood and a single horn, which was its only weakness. The men there said that the hunter's attempts to capture the bull, and the animal's subsequent attempts to escape led to the formation of the border mountains, as well as many other geographical features."
I haven't been able to discover where this story came from. It is not, as far as I can tell, a part of any of the usual Cilanese traditions, nor does it appear to have Narti roots. It must have been a very local tradition, perhaps a modification of the aboriginal hornless bull of the harvest, which ironically makes it closer to the truth of the origin of the name Isumbras than one might think.

"The truth of the name is found in the roots of the word itself, not surprisingly. Isumbras comes from the gipsy words is and ras which do, literally, mean 'gold' and 'horn.' But they mean much more in the context in which they were originally coined. Gold, in this case, means something really more like 'rich,' or 'valuable,' or even 'abundant,' while this particular usage of 'horn' refers to an old gipsy legend about a horn from a ram that kept its starving master alive without giving up its own flesh (and thus saving its own life) by pulling off one of its horns, from which continually spilled food and drink of all kinds.

"The beginning usage of the word, then, in relation to the known world is, sadly, quite mundane. The gipsies spoke of the Gold Horn, namely the land close to the shores of the Irisidesian Sea, which, if one looks at a map, resembles somewhat the horn of a ram, indicating both its shape, and its abundance of sustenance and life. It was not until much later, after the Migrations of course, that the term began to apply to everything from Cilan to Castille."
Only the gipsies, who were immune to the corruption effects of the Netherwild, could refer to that region as an "abundance of sustenance and life" without jest.

[I do not intend for these musings to be thematic, but in this case, there seems merit in following through. In all the resources available to me, I have only found two references to the origin of the Avatars. Here is one, followed by my notes]:

"Because the pact was broken that was made with Them by the Titan and thus he was himself betrayed, there came forth aspects of Them, full of the passion that was absent from Them in Their own Forms, and of their coming none now speak, for its destruction is writ in fire and blood in our skin and our blood and our bones..."

What is he talking about here? The Avatars? What is the significance of "Them/Their" versus "their"? Is there some connection here between the Avatars and the Materials? Is the destruction he is speaking of Zhe'ir-disna'ib? [Even now, I struggle in translating from the Elemental tongue, but I've been working on this one for a long time; it means something like (literally) the many-death time that led to the falling from the sun-place of the sun-people; I prefer direct, more literal translations from Elemental, as it captures better the fundamental nature of the tongue, but I have seen the same term, Zhe'ir-disna'ib, translated simply as the War of Heavenly Condescension.] If he is, he is right. I can find barely enough words on the beginning of that war to fill a thimble. Did the Avatar's start it? Nicodemus said something to me once that made me wonder if Mitsaru had once served stagnation. I don't remember what it was. The Avatars are aspects of the Materials. That seems to be the conclusion.

[From a book on Tubaloth]:
I have seen this before, though I cannot recall now where. What--or who?-- are "the Materials"?

[Evidently I found the answer, or an answer, later. The following was in newer, different ink]:
From an old scrap, I think probably older than the Migrations, and possibly even Eochaid. It still amazes me how much was lost, to everyone:

"In the vaults of mortality, the creation was thrust into the hands of the Materials. They are larger than even the highest snows of Mount Axi [I still am unclear where this is] and are terrible in their countenances. They are fundamental, or rather, elemental, for of them, in the embrace or dance in which they engage, come all the falling and settling and sleeping things of the world. To the meddling of the lesser mortals they are indifferent, instead working toward some vast, unknowable end of their own."

[I located the old scrap and found that I had also marked it with my pen]:
The Materials may be indifferent but it seems the folly of men to turn toward those who are always turned themselves away. I infer, rightly I believe, that it is the various cults to these grey beings that led to many of the great darknesses of the past. Was Kezhkaman one of these?

[And further down, from the same scrap]:
And the Avatars? There seems to be a relationship here.

Years ago, before any of this started, my son foolishly tipped a bottle of ink. It toppled and rolled about on the ledge whereupon I store all my ink, and by some hidden cunning, the force that impelled the flask to fall found in its expensive glass some fault. By the same cunning, this fault was exploited and the neck of the vial gave way, allowing the black flood within freedom and doom in the same instant. For as it burst from the crystal prison, the direction of its flow led it from the glassy trough and into the empty air.

My son fled, of course, as the sable waterfall--or rather, the sable inkfall- -poured from the shelf onto a blank leaf of paper that lay on the desk beneath it. It was at this point that I entered the room, confused by the boy's sudden and terrified exit, and though the shadow liquid was, in its death throes, seeking the destruction, not only of the expensive paper, but of the many pages scattered beneath it, upon which were recorded various pieces of history and lore, I was unable to move as was I watched.

It was not many days after that Nicodemus came to see me. (I suppose if I had been summoned to him, it would be more appropriate for me to refer to him as the Archpatriarch, but as he came to see me, I lay hold on the many years of friendship that open up beneath us and call him by his given name; given his history and circumstances, I am certain he does not mind.) When he called me to this task, I told him that I had already been called. He was not surprised by this, but asked to here of my call anyway.

I will not speak of such sacred things here, but I will describe the curious thing that happened when my boy clumsily destroyed nearly a year's worth of work, and more, when one considers the cost of materials. I will not describe my call, but I will describe the context of that call, for it is of context that I wish to speak.

The paper upon which that ink fell was of uncommon lineage, and thus quite expensive. It came from far in the south, from one of the renowned paper mills in Mechevale, made from the pulp of one of the exotic southern trees. I would not normally discuss the quality of my materials in such a way, but I do so now solely to illuminate the nature of the paper, particularly its texture. It was paper constructed to hold a certain type of paint, also from the south, so the fibers of the page are particularly salient. The significance of this becomes apparent as the ink ended its life on the face of this Mechevali paper.

I watched as the ink was swallowed into the page and, deflected by the fibrous dams, expanded across the surface like frost on the surface of lake touched by a single reed, or the accelerated expansion of a root system, black roots in a field of pale cream soil. As the stream of black from above continued its descent, the shadowy tendrils consumed nearly the whole of the page. At this point, I rushed forward, suddenly liberated from whatever spell the scene had initially placed on me. I have already suggested at the amount of labor it cost me to create the various notes on the desk, and though I am no enemy of work, I knew it would be an ornery task to recreate it. And indeed it was, for it quickly became clear that the page, pregnant with ink, was soon to release its bounty to the pages adjoining it.

And so it is with context. When Nicodemus spoke with me concerning his request, it quickly became apparent that to tell the story he wanted me to tell, I would have to provide a context, I would have to tell the stories that led to the story, the lore that underlay the decisions of those great men and women who we now revere as saints.

So Nicodemus was the falling ink, and that first page, filling up is what eventually became the Empyrean Corpus. But now, as I look back on the volumes and scrolls and notes and everything that led me to the Corpus, I am reminded of those other pages, those other leaves that too were embraced by the tendrils of ink, for in those volumes and scrolls and notes are contained a vast library of marginalia, notes written to myself as I struggled to understand. It is indeed the context to the context that I present here, taken in no particular order, but as I find itand can find the luxury to transcribe it.

I find that as I grow older, as the glory of timelessness draws closer, the Stagnant One in his anger consumes the time I seemed to have once had and the moments in which I used to scribble these notes are now more than a luxury. It seems I can more easily obtain paper from the south than a moment to work, but such is the nature of this Exile.

The name should be obvious, but if it is not, it will be soon.