Maps to a God's Grief

Now here is a strange tale! Is it the raving of a lone mad man, tormented by his travels? Or is it the story told by a visionary, a prophet, a man who dared the wrath of Gods and won gifts unimaginable. I cannot say.

This reporter happened upon the story, in a seedy club, told by a one eyed ruffian, and he had the journal of the man, or maybe a copy. Or maybe its a work of fiction. Either way, this reporter thought it deserved to be told, and after a brief tussel with the fellow, I am able to show you all a Map to a God's Grief....

Part One...

And lo, the part-time archeologist, fulltime adventurer 'Indiana Jones' did find himself many turns ago in possession of a tablet, albeit by dubious means.

The tablet was made of the material of the ancient ones, upon which no 'modern' technology could so much of scratch. Upon it was written in ancient text, "Know ye all mortals thy fate shall be the same as the evil 'Gout-Leg' should thee cross me. Look and tremble at my power."

Long did Indiana search for the origin of this tablet. He hired a small army to explore the sphere trying to track down its origin. Under the guise of a maker of maps he was granted access to information he may never of been able to obtain otherwise. But though he searched and hunted, all the rumours, every hint he could find led to the same thing. The tablet came from beyond worlds end. Eventually he despaired of this task and sadness filled him. His dream would remain unfulfilled. He would never gaze upon the grave of this powerful immortal.

Then one day, one of his many contacts he had developed during his heady days of exploring the world in his quest sent him the following words. "Worlds End has moved!" At first he considered this as a practical joke for his friends were not above such things, but soon word came from other sources. Always the same, "Worlds End has moved!"

Somewhat shocked by this, he stirred his weary bones for action once more. Hat in hand, whip on his side, gun in his holster, he set forth once more in pursuit of his dream.

Part Two...

The world had changed much since he'd last been exploring. Many of his old friends/enemies were gone fallen victim to a powerful force spoken of only in fearful whispers late at night. "Beware Genesis least they claim thy heart." This was the warning on many lips, but never spoken to loudly, least they call down its mighty wraith upon them. He despaired to learn of the diminishment of those he knew in his youth. And he mourned those whom decided to exit this dimension in search of the dubious pleasures the priests called 'RL'. He especially mourned his colleague, 'Bac Ho', whom now sat in quiet contemplation awaiting this end. For whilst they'd fought, Bac Ho had mentioned him back in his youth, calling him mighty, and it was a shock to find the energy and vibrance of his 'enemy' gone.

Not all spoke in fear of Genesis, though most shivered quietly to themselves as they sped by. Indy heard talk of an organisation known only as 'Revelation' which spoke of Genesis's End. But though he inquired, little more could he ascertain about this group, not its size, nor those whom were members, not its plans for Genesis's demise. This disturbed Indy for he had always prided himself on the intelligence network he had developed whilst searching for the tablets origin. Even so, many he talked to had told him that a conflict was coming, or that it was imminent, that they would clash soon, within the week. But the weeks rolled by, and the battle had yet to occur so Indy decided he could no longer wait for the dust to settle and moved on hoping to avoid the conflict that may or may not occur. For now, Genesis was still spoken of in whispers...

Part Three...

As he journeyed towards worlds end he heard that Revelation was not the only organisation who had reason to seek Genesis's diminishment. The affectionately known 'Hippy Stompers' also had reason. Citing betrayal, promises broken and deals left unkept, the Stompers would merrily dance on Genesis's grave given the opportunity. Indy marvelled softly to himself, for he had had dealings with members of the Stompers in the past and they were not a weak group. In fact, many of his youthful adventures centred upon the Stompers and not all had gone his way. In many ways he viewed this as a tribute to Genesis's prowess that they held there own against these two groups. Would this continue he wondered to himself as he journeyed onwards.

As he approached worlds end Indy flashed back to his youth. He remembered when he was last here, that on this spot he met the mythical Jestress, the goddess of mischief and mayhem. Mischief is right he recalled to himself, remembering when Harlequin had 'implied' that Indy's mapmaking enterprise was in fact at the behest of another on the sphere. Little did she realize that I'd founded it for the express purpose of finding the origin of this tablet thought Indy chuckling to himself. He remembered the beauty that was Harlequins home, and the delightful chocolate biscuits that she'd served him. And even more valuable to him at the time the map she'd given him which held not a single 'trick' within it. Though it hadn't helped him find what he'd sought that map still held pride of place above his mantelpiece back at home. For how often does one receive such a gift from a goddess?

Part Four...

Finally, Indy reached worlds end, or at least what used to be worlds end. The mists that had marked its end were gone, and for a moment he doubted the validity of the map that he held. But he knew this map was authentic, for he had crafted this one himself. Now he began to worry, for he knew he'd been a long time coming to this new land and that others had been here before him. What if they'd found what he'd sought for so long, or destroyed the evidence he sought? With this though pulsing through his brain he wanted to gallop across the border but old habits kept him back, and so he progressed slowly, mapping his way across the new terrain.

Indy soon discovered that worlds end still existed, it just seemed to of shifted back for some inesplicable reason. He'd always been puzzled by this phenomenom. The world was a sphere, so everyone told him, but his maps had never looked that way. The world just ended in a white fog, which no matter how hard you tried to travel in a front line it always lead you back out the way you came in. He remembered testing this by means of a dozen large square blocks. Placing one in front of another so that the edges met, he could thereby ensure that he'd travel in a straight line despite the fog. And he could too. He could travel the length of those dozen blocks into the fog. But the moment he took a step off of them he'd inevitably find himself stepping out of the fog and when he looked down he'd inevitably see the first block, glaring up at him. There were many legends about the fog. The Sidhe were said to of stepped between worlds via a fog like this. He'd long considered enlisting the Sidhes help in his quest to get beyond worlds end. But had dismissed them as legends like the vampires of old.

Foolish he realized, considering the legend that he sought to find. Especially when Indy considered the nightmarish experience he'd had in his inexperienced youth. He'd led a party of explorers into some lands occupied by a coven of vampires known as the Kindred. He had witnessed the paralysing effect the vampires had had as they decended upon them. The way the mercenaries hired to protect them, and his fellow explorers had stood there, motionless with there head to one side to allow for easier access to their throat. Why he hadn't been affected by them he hadn't known at the time. He'd been in plain sight, he could of reached out and touched them but he dared not in case they realized he was there. Even now, in his old age he still awoke occasionally screaming as his mind recalled what happened next. It wasn't until much later, when the only sound remaining was the sound of his own sobbing and had he realized that he'd been holding onto the tablet at the time.

Part Five...

Indy'd never been sure whether it was the tablet that had saved him that night, or simply the callous cruelty of the vampires. In any event he'd steered well clear of that area for a long long time. Ear to the ground he learned much about the vampires, for he did not wish to fall victim to them again. He learned of Malkav's insanity, of his relationship with the Jestress, and the enmity between the vampires and the one known as Buffy. Curious as to why such powerful creatures should be troubled by a mere slip of a girl, Indiana had sought her out. He'd found her late one night loitering in a cemetary and quietly approached her. He had learned a valuable lesson. Or so he concluded hours later when he regained consciousness.

The next night Indy had tried again, announcing his presence well in advance hoping to avoid a repeat of the previous night. But for all that she had had her hands full at the time she'd only spared him a glance before hurling a wooden stake in his direction. Before Indy'd even had a chance to so much as blink, the stake struck home. Again, the tablet had saved him, for after the 'vampire' incident he'd taken to wearing the tablet around his neck as a good luck charm. Still Indy'd decided that this 'slip of a girl' was to dangerous and didn't wish to push his luck any further and so he had slipped quietly away. Ever afterwards he'd had to take care, for every so often a wooden stake would come flying in his direction as a result of this 'misunderstanding'.

Indy had instead hired a local merchant to watch the girl, and to contact him when she and the vampires should meet. For he still saw her as his best chance of exploring the territory that they claimed. But it was not the merchant whom relayed to him the information, but another. The vampires nest had been destroyed, and destroyed from within via a brutal 'lesson'. Somewhat surprised by this turn of events, Indy had nevertheless taken advantage of it, promptly setting up an expedition into those lands in hopes of finding his dream. But though the shadow that the Vampires had cast was gone from this land, his dream was not to be found. In fact not a night went by while he'd journeyed those hellish lands did he sleep well at all, for his sleep was filled with the horrors of his past journey here and his dreams filled with the screams of the damned. An exhausted, and emotionally drained, Indiana had finally stepped free of these accursed lands and having mapped it completely had no plans of ever returning to this place. The vampires were gone from here. That was enough for him.

Later he had despaired to learn that Malkav had survived, and had constructed for himself another coven. He hoped his quest did not take him again within his reach.

Part Six...

Shaking his head, Indy wiped a tear from his eye and these dark memories. He had an immortal to find, a new world to map. The wind blew roughly against his face as he journeyed onwards. Times change he thought to himself softly. We all grow older. This thought weighed painfully on him as his body protested its treatment. Buffy had taken a step that Indy had long considered himself. For the mystic priests of this age new the secret of if not 'reincarnation', then 'carnation' at least. It was possible to have a new identity crafted from the old, and often this helped to give new direction in their lives. Buffy had taken the step, walking into the glowing fire only to step out again made anew. A new name, a new face, an old body with new vigeur and purpose to it. Some took this step often, some seldom, some never. But the priests had long since realized how this could be abused and had ensured that there were telltale signs when this occured, and that those that had had dealings with someone would recognise them in their new form.

There was one exception to this, but it was a step rarely taken. It was possible to be born anew. The memories and experiences of an elder trapped and contained within the body of a mere youngling with only a fraction of their former power. Few took this step, but it has been done. Often it was that a young adventure would do this, for it enabled him to avoid the mistakes of his youth, and grow in stature and power more quickly than those of a similar age. But it was not always the youth who took this step. It saddened Indy to hear of this occurance among those heroes and villians that he had known for so long. But whenever he did, he prayed for them that they find pleasure and adventure in there new lives. He wished them all well equally, friends and foes alike. For to be reborn is to put aside the friendships and enmity of the past and to start again with a clean slate.

Part Seven...

As he travelled along worlds end, Indy paused to reflect on the friends and foes he had encountered in his travels. And the odd fact that most of his friends were in fact his foes. One such foe had had a profound influence on Indy's life, right from the very beginning with his harsh lessons, and the seeming nonchalance and arrogance with which they were given. It had taken time, but the nonchalance was gone in him, replaced instead with a desire for oneupmanship. Intrigue, and counterintrigue, plot and counterplot. If ever the other person could throw a spanner into the works then he'd lovingly do so. The ultimate of which was when the cad had tricked him with the 'wounded bird' routine and indy'd given chase, only to fall deep into a pit. As if that wasn't bad enough he'd heard the gloating from up above inbetween the not so muffled laughter. Infuriated Indy'd cried out "You wait till I get my hands on you, as soon as I get out of here you're going to regret this." This just seemed to send the shadow above into hysterics, and as the laughter died away Indy'd heard the words "Oh, I expect you'll find yourself a little to busy I would think." With that, a torch was thrown in from the opening above. Down, down, down it had tumbled before landing with a muffled squeak.

A squeak Indy'd thought to himself? Looking around, Indy'd seen the light of the now guttering torch reflected back at him by many many eyes Rats, as far as the eye could see looking ferocious, hungry and mean. "Have fun", the voice above had cackled, and then the Rats had charged...

It had been a nightmare of a completely different sort to that of the vampires. For this time Indy'd gotten bitten. A lot. All over. There were so many Rats that his trusty pistol inevitably killed 3 or 4 rats at a time (sometimes with the handle), but still they came, more and more and more... Fortunately for Indy a passing Gryphon had spied him and lifted him from the pit. Amazingly, the rats had streamed out of the pit in pursuit. Together the Gryphon and a thankful Indiana had tried to stop the pursuing rats for they approached his current saviors nesting grounds. Ultimately that wasn't possible, but the Rats were slowed sufficiently to mitigate the possible harm. Giving the Gryphon a hug in thanks, Indiana had moved on his way, for he still had his quest.

His foe had been quite right, Indy'd been far to busy to get his hands on him any time soon. But one of these days Indy'd sworn to himself, one of these days...

Part Eight..

"Yep, one of these days", thought Indy, but that had yet to happen. For his foe had consistently had him at a disadvantage. They crossed paths many times, but always Indy'd fought with less resources, and it grew more and more difficult for him to break even. One day Indy'd feared, that his foe would either devote everything he had in pursuit of Indiana's destruction, or else ignore him completely as a threat no longer worth contemplating. Because of his desire for revenge Indiana'd sold some of the greatest treasures he'd found in his travels, and with this influx he started to grow in strength. Indy knew that this way he'd always be a thorn in his enemies side, but he still needed an edge. Something special. Indy hoped that the talisman around his neck was the key...

With the greater resources that he'd then had at his disposal, he'd intensified his search with a fervour. He'd scoured the land, mapping out its corners, exploring long hidden valleys and caves in his quest. Pausing only long enough to deal with a savage Colonel who'd thought that a Gryphon Head would look good on his wall. (Indiana always repaid his debts). Indiana had had fun distracting the venerable Tibbets. It was much more fun giving a few lessons rather than being on the receiving end. Poor Tibbets kept finding sugar in the gas tanks of his vehicles, and so his advance was stalled because he kept breaking down. And when the Colonel had managed to get a convey moving, it was lead away from sensitive areas by a few 'doctored maps' a convenient native had provided for him and instead into valleys whereupon the convey was set upon by enemies unseen. Yep, Indiana'd had had a lot of fun, and thinking the situation well in hand had gone elsewhere for a while.

Later Indy'd heard that the Colonel had taken advantage of his absence in a big way. By the time Indy'd returned to the scene his entire force of scribes who'd been inciting rebellion amongst the natives had been completely surrounded. The slaughter was terrible to behold as the Colonel exacted revenge upon those who'd dared oppose him. Well not all, the colonel had spared one individual, loaded him with maps and other unique artifacts that he'd gathered and booted him out of the camp, with the parting words "I know your Master will appreciate these, and though he cost me dear, I respect him to much to deprive him." It is odd sometimes, how the honour code works between two opponents.

Part Nine...

But not always was there an honour code between opponents, thought Indy. As his thoughts drifted back to the tablet held around his neck. The legends say that Gout-leg had been defeated by his enemy and the tablet was mute testimony to how that had ended. Not all fights are honourable. Some are to the death with not a quarter given on either side. These people often considered those who viewed 'honour' as something to be held dear as cowardly and weak, or else that 'honour' was merely a tool to be cast aside whenever it was convenient. They were deadly in there intent, and searching there lands had always been a risky business because they distrusted strangers, fearing that they'd reveal to others what was learned. And as more and more battles were raised to higher and higher stakes, it became increasingly more difficult to explore as was Indy's want. Even those Indiana had strong friendships with were reluctant to let him enter and explore. It had been a tough time for Indy, and his enthusiasm had flagged. If it hadn't been for the Jestress's kindness when he'd entered her lands, Indy may of given up completely. But with the Jestress's chocolate biscuits had come hope. For she'd fallen victim to the predators and yet was still willing to offer simple kindnesses to strangers. Perhaps there is room on this sphere for us all. As long as those like the Jestress still lives, then the sphere will be a better place.

And for now, thought Indy, I need not fear other clans, for this territory is to new for others to have staked a claim. In fact, in his wanderings he'd yet to spy another clan within this new land. He should of known better than to let that thought enter his head he recalled as he bent down to pick up his hat from the turf. The small round hole a silent testament to what might of been. Taking cover he'd looked around, for he had no idea where that shot had come from. As indy'd scanned the plains around him he wondered to himself. There was nowhere that shot could of come from. Even the greatest of the age still couldn't of reached him, not even with a near miss such as this. He searched the barren plains for hours, till his eyes watered, but still couldn't see where that shot had come from.

Finally, he'd given into temptation. Taking a stick, he'd set his hat upon it and started to wave it above his head. You can guess the result.

Part Ten...

Having retrieved his hat from where it had fallen, Indy'd muttered softly under his breath as he'd fingered the new hole within its material. He couldn't stay here for ever. What was he to do. Looking around, he gathered the stones together near him. Picking one up and weighing it in his hand, he throw it with all his might beyond the boulder upon which he was concealed. Indy hoped that this might enable him to locate the source of the shooter. Or at least so he'd hoped. As soon as the rock had cleared the boulders horizon, it had exploded. Indy'd stared at the chalk residue that floated down upon him in disbelief. That was impossible. Nobody could shoot that good. Picking up another rock, he'd thrown again. This one had lasted no longer than the first.

"Right', thought Indy, "Lets see you handle this". Picking up a dozen small pebbles in his hand, he'd thrown them with all his force above the boulders incline. This time Indy was able to count the shots as the pebbles cleared the boulder. A dozen pebbles, a dozen shots within a period of about 3 seconds. Not one of the pebbles reached the ground.

"This is ridiculous", Indy muttered quietly to himself. If he can shoot that good, then why aren't I dead. Then Indy'd stopped to consider. If I hadn't been wearing my hat that shot would of struck me right in the middle of my forehead. I would be dead.

When Indy'd stopped contemplating his mortality, he'd picked up some more stones and started throwing them in various directions. He soon discovered that they only got destroyed if the crossed an imaginary line from the boulder he was sitting behind and two others he could see way of on the distant horizon. This is someones territory Indy'd finally realized. Somebody has territory where noone should. That was possible Indy'd thought to himself, for he'd taken time getting here. Others could of gotten here first perhaps. But, Indy thought to himself with glee, someone has territory where noone should, they have weaponry that surpasses anything currently known. There is only one conclusion possible. Pre-Cataclysm.

Part Eleven...

Indy's heart had lifted at the thought. This is it. This is what I've sought all my life. But how to reach it. He was stuck on the border, with no way in. He lacked the technical expertise that was necessary to shield himself from those shots. And wondered if anyone he knew would. Knowing that it was safe for him to move provided he didn't cross the imaginary line, he started setting up camera's around the border. He had to get a reading on that weapon, some hard data so that he could find a way in. Having set up he gathered together some more pebbles and hurled them across the border. Again not one pebble hit the ground, not one shot missed. Gathering up the information he'd gathered, he relayed it back to basecamp, thankful now for all these gadgets those younger individuals had insisted that he carry. Then he'd spent the next week walking the border. It existed from worlds end, to worlds end. And at no point did a pebble ever land when he threw it.

Finally the results had come. Weapon produces an energy signature unknown to any other clan. Estimated power exceeds known maximums. Theoretical shielding requirements to block requires shielding approximately 20 times the highest currently known. Congratulations, you have found evidence of Pre-cataclysm technology.

Congratulations indeed thought Indy wryly to himself. If I let this get out every power on the sphere would descend upon this place. He'd never get a chance to explore an undisturbed site if that happened. Besides, they'd end up killing each other over a piece of territory they couldn't enter. Indy laughed wryly to himself. That'd almost be worth watching. There must be a way in. This was the only proof at all of Pre-cataclysm civilization. Well this, and the talisman that Indy wore around his neck. The talisman...

Would it work? It was irreplaceable if Indy was wrong. Then thought Indy wryly, he wouldn't be here to worry about it. Having prepared himself, he glanced one more time down at the words he'd written to mark his passing and stepped forward across the border.

Part Twelve...

Indy felt the impact as the shot slammed home. And though Indy'd been pretty sure it would work he'd still gave a sigh of relief. It had worked. He'd been right. The talisman he'd tied in place over his forehead was stopping the damage. Then he felt the second shot, then the third. Soon he found the rhythm of the shots and found it bearable though he felt like walking headfirst into a gale. Indy knew that this was stupid, he shouldn't be doing this. If he turned his head, he'd not get a moment to regret the mistake. But he kept walking forward, over the desolate plains. He walked always in the direction which kept facing the shots that were coming. He could feel it through his forehead whenever he started to stray from this path, for if he strayed to far a shot would miss the talisman, but it wouldn't miss him. For 2 days he journeyed thus. Sleep wasn't a problem, for the massive headache that developed throbbed in unison with the impacts on his head. He hadn't felt this bad since he'd last had a case of 'Yellow Fever'. It was almost hypnotising in a way. Soon Indy's entire existance had shrunk down to the next step he took. Nothing else existed. As night crossed the land for the second time Indy'd finally seen far in the distance the source of the shots. He could see the blaze of fire with each shot fired. Though night made it difficult to spot he could see his goal. If he could reach it he could disable it, then he could explore these lands with impunity. He stepped onwards with new purpose, exhaustion gone.

It still took him another 12 hours to reach it. And many times Indy felt his eyes close and his mind wander in search of sleep. One time he dozed briefly whilst walking, he was sure of it. Another he'd stumbled and fallen to his knees. To Indy's amazement the shots had tracked him all the way down. He'd thought as he'd fallen that he was dead, and was so surprised not to be he'd started to shake his head in disbelief. That nearly did get him killed. Still eventually he found himself a dozen paces away, and he'd stopped to consider what he should do next.

He could destroy it he realized. That would enable him to explore this territory with impunity. But what if it was the only evidence there was. What if in disabling it they were never able to get it working again? What if these secrets of the past were lost forever? With these thoughts going through his mind, Indiana was at a loss as to what to do now that he was here. Then he felt a small stone strike his foot. Then another. Carefully looking down with his eyes he read with disbelief the ancient words "thy fate shall be" and the words "Gout-leg". Indy panicked and ran at the ancient weapon, 2 paces, 4, 6, then light flared in his eyes as a shield flared and he was thrown back high in the air. Time stopped....

Part Thirteen...

Well technically time hadn't stopped, Indy hung in the air where he'd been thrown. But all across the sphere it was the same. Be they Terrier, Rabbit, Tigger or Crocodile, Wolf, Viper, Human, or Undead the world stopped. Nothing moved, the world held its breath. And no one knew why. Except me. And now I shall tell you all why.

For on this day, GOUT-LEG was set free

I'd carried what I sought to find the entire time. I had misunderstood the words of 'Gout-Leg's nemesis right from the start. The Tablet was Gout-Leg. It was his soul, trapped forever when he lost the battle with the greatest of the ancients. While I hung there helpless, Gout-leg spirit had formed out of the shattered remains of my most valued possesion. And I heard the following words. Perhaps you heard them echoing on the winds...

*FREE, FREE AT LAST. OH HOW YOU'LL PAY FOR INFLICTING SUCH A FATE UPON ME. YOU WILL NEVER KNOW SUCH TORMENT AS WHAT I SHALL INFLICT UPON THEE. I SHALL HAVE MY REVENGE*

And then to my amazement Gout-Leg had cupped his hands together and the sphere had formed between them. I recognised it from my maps, the
land-marks that I'd mapped in my travels and some parts of which I had never seen, though I was sure I had explored nigh on the entire world. And as he gazed upon it, Gout-Leg's spirit form had darkened, and the world grew dark with him...

*WHERE IS HE? WHERE HAS HE GONE?*

And to my amazement, Gout-Leg had wept.

What was I to do? An immortal in such despair. My heart went out to him. And though the Gods may punish me for betraying the Ancient One, I did raise my voice and tell of his departure. That was a mistake...

For the first time, Gout-Leg noticed that I was there. He looked upon me, at the now shattered tablet that I wore on my forehead, as I hung helpless before him. For a moment he considered me idly and then I screamed.

He entered my mind. He took from me what knowledge I had of the old age, and the new. The cataclysm, the now changed physics of the land, Transgates, the blight everything. But specifically he focussed on the Ancient Ones departure, and how the legends said it was done.

*YES, I SEE. I SEE HOW HE DID IT, THE PATH HE TOOK. THE SPHERE HAS CHANGED MUCH SINCE HE DEFEATED ME. THERE EXIST HERE NOW THE SOULS OF SOME OF THE FIRST AGE, THOUGH GREATLY REDUCED. BUT THE ANCIENT ONE IS GONE, AND THERE EXISTS NO YOUNGER SOUL OF HIS FOR ME TO TORMENT. IN ORDER TO GET MY REVENGE I MUST FOLLOW HIM*

And with that, he took the energy that had been set free with the tablets destruction, and the power of movement from every clan upon the sphere. Using this power, he crafted a doorway. He tore a hole in the very laws of this universe and as he stepped through it he cried:

*PREPARE YOURSELF MY ANCIENT ENEMY, FOR I COME FOR YOU.*

And with this, he was gone.

Part Forteen...

The world restarted, shots fired rang out across the plains, but nothing moved for that energy had been taken from them all. That was the only sign of Gout-Leg's passing from the sphere. Everything remained the same, except for me.

I awoke to find myself in my bed, from whence I started this journey. The broken remains of the amulet lying beside me. And another lying beside it. Written in the old texts upon this amulet were the words:

"I have not forgotten what you have done for me, though I read in your mind that you had not intended to free me from my prison. By rights you should be dead, for the moment you hit the weapons shield and were thrown back in the air was the moment the tablet finally shattered after nearly 3 days of constant fire. That moment what protection it offered you was lost. The next shot, would of been your end. Instead, I grant you 3 boons:

I grant you your life, in exchange for my freedom.
I grant you contentment, for your quest is at an end
I grant you the edge, so thee may trouble your enemy"

And so it was, that on this day the first Range 8 weapon prototype arrived upon the land. Gifted to me by the ancients, with which to trouble my enemies.

Indiana Jones.

Dated:the 195th turning of the sphere.

Perhaps we should not dismiss this, for the reporter remembers well that strange day when all but transgates stood still. And could it be that gates only worked for a God had created another kind of portal, who shall know.