Hello everyone! Before we jump into the story, I feel that I should give you an idea about the planet that you are about to see. The name of the planet is called Tekumel. (If any of you actually know what this is, I will be truly surprised.) This is a world created by M.A.R. Barker. It is one of the oldest tabletop Role Playing Games, and army miniatures, out there. This game came out around the time the original Dungeons and Dragons were released. Mr. Barker created a vast and very well thought out world. (I am serious here people. The man created one complete and at least two other languages for Tekumel.)
It is also one of those settings that can very easily intimidate new players. So, I would highly suggest reading up on the history of Tekumel before jumping head first into this world. If you are interested in any books about the series you can get the first book "The Man of Gold" relatively easily on Amazon (The Kindle version, I believe, is six bucks).
The world of Tekumel is the ruins of a space-age civilization. The best way to describe it to people who have played 40k is to imagine someone found a Death World. They then decided to terraform it and turn it into a Paradise planet. Then the planet was thrown into a pocket dimension and the people lost everything. They had to make a new society with the aliens that were living on the world with humanity, and the original inhabitants that are slightly miffed that they were almost driven to extinction and then thrown into their ghettos (and forced to watch their world get terraformed into something completely alien to them). M.A.R. Barker took inspiration from Arabian, Mesoamerican, and Indian Cultures to make a truly complex and almost living world. If you are interested, check it out, and see if it is something you'd like. A word of warning though this is a world that doesn't really have a "Western" morality, so keep that in mind when you look it up.
Disclaimer: I don't own Warhammer that is the property of Games Workshop, and the CYOA that helped inspired this story is "Built in the Heaven". (This is also a slow-burn story. We won't get to Warhammer directly until later. There will be references to it though.)
"Hello everyone," a person speaking.
'There is no need to panic,' a person's thoughts.
[well this is a pain] Speaking in English.
"Your screams will be delicious," a demon speaking.
Beginning:
As he has done multiple times before, Harsan walks up the stairs of the sole tower of the Monastery of the Sapient Eye. His grey priest kilt still felt strange to him. Reaching the parapet Harsan gave the Pe Choi gesture-language(*) for "greeting". The priest already on duty shook his bald head with a sigh. "Lad you aren't among the insect Pe Choi anymore, speak Tsolyani."
Blushing Harsan nods his head in acknowledgment. "Forgive me honored Zaren, I am still unused to speaking with Tsolyani," Zaren grunts in acceptance of Harsan's excuse, before waving the young man to stand next to him.
Standing next to Zaren, he stares out over the parapet to watch the three-tiered Sakbe road. For hours Harsan stood to watch with Zaren. Only the occasional small talk breaking the monotony. As time wore on Harsan's eyes drifted more and more to the South. His eyes staring at the green jungles of his youth.
With a start, Harsan felt a hand clamp down on his shoulder. "Lad you can't go back," Zaren said. "The Pe Choi brought you here so you could live amongst your own people." Whirling around Harsan faced Zaren anger coursing through his veins like the fires of Vimuhla.
"Why can't I go back, I grew up amongst the Pe Choi. They raised me, I hunted under those canopies." Hot tears started to burn his eyes. "Why, why can't I go back?" Turning away Harsan wiped at his eyes. His wavy black hair falling over his face. Hearing a sigh, he felt Zaren's hand fall upon his back, leading him towards a bench near the steps. Weeping for the home he had lost
As he calmed, Harsan and Zaren went back to staring out at the Sakbe road. A morose silence falling between the two of them, one a man who had lived his entire life amongst humans. The other, a boy, who felt and acted more like the insectile Pe Choi. As the hours went by, they started to discuss their lives. Harsan speaking of his foster family and learning how to speak like a Pe Choi. Zaren spoke of his life at the monastery only to cut himself off.
"Now that's something you don't see every day," Zaren said staring at the lowest tier of the Sakbe, His eyes narrowing in suspicion.
Harsan could only nod staring at what could only be an N'luss of such a size that they could see him even among the thousands using the lowest tier. It was only as the N'luss drew closer that they saw how the other travelers seemed to give them a wide berth. Only four companions stood near the N'luss.
One was an old man in a deep indigo robe. For an instant, Harsan thought the man to be a priest of Hur'u, Master of Change. The other was a man of great height as well. Not as tall as the N'luss but certainly taller than any Tsolyani Harsan had ever seen (*). Garbed in red chlen hide armor with indigo accents. Yet even they remain a respectful distance from the giant. The only two that walk proudly next to the giant were two great Tlekku(*).
The Tlekkus plodded along next to the N'luss. The great beasts seemed to be unaffected by the afternoon sun beating down upon them. Even Harsan in the shade of the tower could feel a light sweat that had accumulated upon his body.
Zaren narrows his eyes focusing upon the stranger. Even as far as he was, Harsan could see that the giant wore a most peculiar garb. The giant's great form was wrapped in a steel grey cloth, accented with indigo and obsidian. The only part of them that wasn't shrouded by cloth was the helmet the N'luss wore on their head.
As the travelers drew closer Harsan sees something even stranger. Anyone who gets within the radius of the travelers immediately jumps away. "Looks like a sorcerer," Zaren exclaims his eyes narrowing in suspicion. "A very powerful one at that."
Harsan agrees, staring as the group made their way to the rest area. Zaren grunts staring down at them, "This could to end badly, Go tell Prior Haringgashte that we have notable visitors." Harsan nods before scurrying down the steps.
Illard sits cross-legged in his tent outside of the Temple. Hiding his face in the shadow of his hood. His helmet resting on the table in front of him, while Padre and Calla lay curled next to one another by the entrance. He just stares at the featureless slate grey helmet. Its indigo accents running along the jawline before racing up the front to circle around the eyes.
Fin sat to his left looking over the scrolls that he had borrowed from the temple. His beard moving minutely as he read the flowing Tsolyani script. His indigo robes hang loosely from his form giving the illusion of a frail old man. His face contracting in moments of annoyance whenever he read something that he found illogical.
Ajax reclines to his right, the chlen hide armor he had worn previously lay on the ground haphazardly. Out of all his companions, he had devasted himself of his armor only wearing the local loin cloth (*). Leaning back on a stone block that he dragged into the tent, he examines the lacquered red chlen hide sword. Running his thumb along the edge his eyes narrowing in disgust, "subpar."
"If you don't like the blade then why did you buy it?" Fin said, not looking up from the scroll. A fog of wisp-like tendrils reaching out from his bald head, and manipulating their watcher's memories of the last few seconds. [And would it be too much of a bother for you to insult our hosts in a tongue they can't understand.]
Ajax's hand pauses upon the blade, irreverently glancing out at the multiple people trying to glance through the tent flap. [And why, Fin, should I give these primitives the disrespect of not insulting them to their face?] A peasant girl who was glancing over in curiosity gasps in horror upon meeting eye contact. [They think me some ill omen, just because my ocular organs are blue.]
With a sigh, another wave of indigo tendrils flies out to erase the girl's memory. [While I do admit their superstition is silly. It is getting quite annoying having to reach out and alter memories every twenty seconds. You are quite lucky that they are nigh invisible at night.] Fin said finally putting the scroll down to turn his full attention upon Ajax. [And your one to complain, out of all of us the locals seem to have taken a shine to you.]
With a snort, Ajax began to retort only to be cut off as Illard stood up drawing the attention of everyone in the room. [I'm going for a walk; I need to clear my head.] He said as he secured his helmet to his suit. [Please don't cause any trouble while I'm gone.]
As he makes his way to the flap Illard feels his hounds press against his side. Pausing briefly Illard reaches out and scratches both of them behind the ears. "Come along you two, can't have you lazing about too much," Illard says with a chuckle.
As he leaves the confines of the tent, he sees the multitude of people who use this strange three-tiered road. Laughter fills the air to his right as a merchant tells a particularly funny joke to his audience. To his left, he could make out a couple trying to have a discreet dalliance. All around him are the camp convalesced with the sounds of life. To a regular person, the camp would be a lively and joyous place. To Illard it's just another reminder of how far from home he is.
Taking a deep breath Illard tentatively reaches out to Pandora. Pandora reply's by placing a metaphorical hand on his shoulder. Sensing his master's melancholy, Padre pushes his head into Illard's side adding his support for his master. While Calla gently pushes her head into his hand. With a small chortle, Illard pats the great beasts' heads.
With a small shake of his head, Illard starts his march to the Temple. His two hounds happily plodding along next to him. As he begins his walk the sound his chlen hide minders could be heard trying to keep up with him. With but a thought Illard feels the void borne chill recede closer to himself.
'I'd hate to see how these people would react if I reduced the temperature lower than seventy.' Illard thinks while contemplating that rather humorous mental imagine. As Illard moves through the camp the usual noise starts to taper off as more and more people stop and stare at the giant in their presence.
Not for the first time does Illard mentally thank Pandora for teaching him how to focus on his sense of self without being drawn into the sea of thoughts that swirl around him. Even then a few stray thoughts would slip through. From the girl barely on the cusp of womanhood trying to gain her older paramours' attention, while said paramour seems to have his eyes on a recently promoted temple guard. To even a small group of children currently trying to dare each other into running up and poking his leg.
All these thoughts slip through as he makes his way through the camp letting his feet take him were ever, they march. The Monastery of the Sapient Eye looms over them all. Even now Illard could make out the light of multiple candles lit by the scribe priests working late into the night, to ensure the local province was run smoothly all in the name of their strange god.
Even now Illard could not make heads or tails of the entities that the local humans' worship as gods. Part of his psyche revolts at the mere idea of anyone calling themselves a god. Yet another part looks upon them with the cold dispassionate eyes of history.
Banishing these thoughts Illard starts ascending the steps. He pulls out ten silver hlash for the donations box. Taking particular care not to look within so as not to see the few golden kaitars, and be tempted to destroy them. The scribe priest on duty bows her head in thanks while jotting down the amount. "Thank you, kind stranger, may Thumis the Ever-Knowing guide you on your journey."
With an absent nod, Illard made his way deeper into the Monastery. The grey stone that made up the temple was carved in such a way that Illard is reminded of pictures he had seen of the temples in India, mixed in with elements of Aztec architecture. From the frescoes depicting the myths of Thumis to even the wall carvings showing the triumphs of the priests of Order.
Even in this temple dedicated to knowledge, he could see the tiers of Tsolyani society. As he moves across the lowest tier, reserved for slaves and foreigners, Illard could feel the eyes of curious onlookers even here. 'Granted how would you react if you saw a giant walking down the road with two equally gigantic dogs?'
'My Captain the Monastery of the Sapient Eye of Thumis is well known for its tourist attraction called the Hall of the Mighty Tongues*. Perhaps it would be in our interest to gain more information on the dialects of this world.' Pandora said feeling her Captain's morose thoughts.
Minutely nodding his head Illard pauses to look over his shoulder to the minders following him. "Where would the Hall of the Mighty Tongues be?" He asks, his voice taking on a metallic edge as it filters throw his speakers.
The guards' glance at one another, before they could answer a voice calls out. "Why would a beast like you wish to know that?" Turning to face the voice Illard saw a particularly low-ranking priest. By the looks of his cloth, Illard could guess that the man had only just obtained his skull cap.
With barely a pause Illard focuses his now post-human mind on the young man. Studying the priest that sits at his post. From the way his eyes narrow to his bent nose which hints to a recent altercation. "I ask because I wish to see this Hall to obtain knowledge. The knowledge that as I understand is open to all."
The priest hides his discomfort well, but to Illard it is plain as day. "That knowledge is only open to those who follow in the light of Hnalla lord of Order. It is not open to foreign barbarians." The priest said drawing himself to his feet, just barely coming to eye level with Illard.
An oppressive silence had fallen over the area as priests and late-night visitors stop and stare. Padre's hair stood on end, angered by someone insulting his master. The priest himself tries to put on a brave face, but his discomfort only worsens as the seconds' tick by forcing him to stare into the blank inhuman mask.
"Well did you not hear me? Or does that helmet addle your mind?"
"Hmm? No, I was just contemplating how terrified you'll be when you turn around." Illard says watching as Calla begins to growl from behind the priest. Freezing the priest could only feel the moist, hot, breath at the back of his. His eyes darting to Padre taking in the size of the beast only to quickly dart up back to Illard.
"Sir call off your tlekku or we will be forced to arrest you for threatening a priest of Thumis." One of his minders spoke up, thoughts tinted with how to deal with him should he have to.
"Do not worry my friends, my dear Cala here was playing a little trick on Priest Achan. She meant no harm." He said before clicking his tongue. The hound bound past the still frozen priest and jumping over the priestess caught between them. Raising his hand Cala pushes her head into the hand. Illard pulls out a few hlash, tossing them to the young woman. "Terribly sorry for the inconvenience miss." He says as he turns to head deeper into the Temple.
"Were do think you're going barbarian!? You can't just walk away after threatening a priest of Thumis!" Priest Achan says having regained his nerve, turning it to anger.
Pausing Illard brings his full attention back upon the priest. "Priest Achan I did not threaten you at all. My tlekku Cala here just decided to play a little trick on you. All she did was sit behind you. I'm sure these fine people could corroborate the events." He says gesturing to the other priests and people around them.
Seeing some of the disapproving eyes upon him Achan faulters trying to rally himself. "But if you feel insulted, I'm sure we can bring this up with Prior Haringgashte. He does seem to be quite annoyed now."
"Yes, I am quite annoyed at having been stopped from performing my duties," Haringgashte says descending from the uppermost level. Glaring at both of them. Achan whirls around before bowing in submission.
Illard bows his head in respect toward the man. "Apologies Prior Haringgashte I was just contemplating seeing the glories of the Hall of Mighty Tongues. I did not mean to pull you from your nightly duties."
Haringgashte's eyes narrow minutely, "While I will not fault you for seeking knowledge. I would prefer it if your tlekku did not threaten my acolytes." He says before focusing on the prostrating priest. "Acolyte Achan I will expect to see you in my quarters later for your punishment. A few lashes should teach you some respect."
Haringgashte nods his head before turning back to Illard he gestures dismissively with his hand. "The Hall of Mighty Tongues is down the hall to your right. I do not want to hear of any more incidents tonight."
Nodding his head in thanks Illard turns to follow the directions. 'My captain why did you not say you had already taken the knowledge from Acolyte Achan's mind? His mental barriers were quite insufficient. Even a newborn Aeldari would have been able to enter his mind.'
'Because Pandora I don't think that would have ingratiated us with anyone in this temple.' Illard replies walking past priests returning to their duties. 'After all, humans don't like it all that much when they realize just how easy it is to root around in their mind.'
Alright, folks here is the next chapter I hope you like it. Also, feedback is very much appreciated.
*In the story Harsan is the only human who can speak the Pe-Cho language, and he can only do that by using his hands to emit sounds that the human body can naturally produce.
*The average height of a person on Tekumel would be on average five and a half feet tall, or 1.67 meters. (There are exceptions to this with the N'luss being over seven feet tall.)
*Tlekku-Dog
* Due to the heat, and how stratified Tsolyani society is, it is common for people to wear very little in terms of clothes. The higher in society the more complex the clothes become. Unless you're near the equator in which cases it's more practical to walk around naked, so you don't die from heatstroke.
*This is what it is actually called, reading the Man of Gold you realize fairly quickly that the Tsolyani really like their long and complex names.
There will be a link to a PDF rule book on my account if any of you are interested in learning more about the world of Tekumel.