My apologies to anyone not particularly interested in the Tékumel setting, which is the backdrop for my long-running House of Worms campaign. As this campaign races toward its conclusion after more than a decade of play, the stakes are rising. The characters are now uncovering some of the setting’s deeper mysteries—those that are either well hidden or not addressed at all in published materials. Fortunately, I’m both deeply familiar with Tékumel’s arcana and quite willing to deviate from it when doing so enhances the fun. That’s why I’m hopeful that the campaign’s final denouement will be a satisfying one.
In my most recent campaign update, I referenced several elements that may not be immediately clear or that deserve further explanation. Let’s begin with the Tsolyáni conception of the soul, which is largely inherited from the earlier Engsvanyáli civilization. According to this worldview, the soul is composed of five distinct parts:
- Bákte: the physical body, which is born, lives, grows, dies, and returns to dust.
- Chusétl: the "shadow self," the sleeping counterpart of the waking person, which exists in dreams.
- Hlákme: the conscious mind, encompassing both intellect and ego: the “I-ness” of a person.
- Pedhétl: the bundle of raw instincts, lusts, fears, and desires, as well as the source of psychic power.
- Báletl: the spirit-soul, which travels after death to the Isles of the Excellent Dead before eventually being reborn.
Different gods and religious sects in Tsolyánu emphasize certain aspects of the soul over others. In the case of the Temple of Sárku, the Change deity of death, only the body and the intellect truly matter. Everything else is considered irrelevant. For Sárku’s worshipers, the intellect (or ego) is the essence of individuality, that which separates one person from another. Normally, this aspect ceases to exist upon death. The only part of the soul that survives is the Báletl, the spirit-soul, which is not truly individuated and is eventually reborn in someone else, without any memory of its previous existence. To a devotee of Sárku, this outcome is abhorrent. Thus, they embrace a sorcerous union of the body and intellect after death by becoming undead.
This is what makes Prince Dhich’uné’s plan, as described in the linked update, comprehensible. He seeks to ascend the Petal Throne, become emperor, and then offer his spirit-soul as a sacrifice to the pariah deity known as the One Other, because he sees no value in that part of his soul. Instead, he intends to preserve his body and mind as an undying emperor. This “exquisite gift” to the One Other, he believes, will secure for Tsolyánu a state of perpetual stability, allowing it to avoid the fate of all previous empires, including the ever-glorious Engsvanyáli Imperium.
Why does he believe this? Dhich’uné claims to have uncovered a dark secret: that the founder of the Tsolyáni Empire was a cultist of the One Other. The name of the first emperor is unrecorded; he is known only as “the Tlakotáni.” This name eventually became the clan name of the imperial line. However, anyone familiar with Engsvanyáli, the language from which Tsolyáni descends, knows that tlakotané means “brother,” but not in the familial sense. Rather, it denotes brotherhood in a priesthood or secret society. So, to which secret society did the first emperor belong? According to Dhich’uné: a cult of the One Other.
What evidence Dhich’uné has for this claim is not yet clear. However, the mystery surrounding the identity and nature of the first emperor is certainly suggestive. Moreover, although the worship of the One Other. like that of all pariah gods. is officially banned in Tsolyánu, his priests operate in secret within the Temple of Belkhánu. Even more curiously, they play a formal role in the emperor’s internment rites. Why, then, the public disavowal of the One Other, while simultaneously granting his priests a hidden role at the heart of imperial ritual? Dhich’uné believes he knows the answer: the empire was founded and sustained by a covenant with the pariah god, one that is continually renewed through the sacrifice of the spirit-souls of those who lose the Kólumejàlim (the Choosing of the Emperors).
Dhich’uné now believes he can reshape that covenant. Instead of the traditional sacrifice of defeated princes, he proposes to offer the spirit-soul of an emperor. He believes this will vastly strengthen the stabilizing influence of the One Other, making it eternal. He also believes that by becoming undead, he can survive the loss of his spirit-soul. Of course, no one can know whether this gambit will succeed, but Dhich’uné is convinced it will. He believes he has the knowledge and the will to deceive a pariah god into giving him what he desires.
Whether he’s right forms the central question of the campaign’s next (and likely final) phase.
Back around the time you spun up this campaign, a shared acquaintance in the Canonfire community told me he asked if you'd accept me into it. Apparently I was welcome; but a new career distracted me and I never followed up.
ReplyDeleteI'll regret it all my life. At least I get to read about what I missed though!
There will always be other campaigns!
DeleteDhich'uné: "One Other, I have come to bargain!"
ReplyDeleteWhen all is said and done, and you have some time to reflect, a great series would be how the 'canon' Tékumel-prime setting and the setting that evolved with your group differed in the end, and when it began to significantly diverge. Comparing it the setting that you made whole cloth ('in its image') also differed. Watching the emergent fiction blossom has been wonderful to read.
ReplyDeleteI LIKE.
ReplyDeleteThink that sums it up; not sure I have anything useful or interesting further to say. I really like this reworking of canonical material (which I haven't been all that wowed by) into something interesting and intriguing and fertile, but still staying very close to the original. So on second thought, the only other thing I have to say besides 'I like' is MOAR PLZ.
PS: A guy who writes retrospectives of advertisements in a TSR magazine from 40+ years ago doesn't need to make "Esoterica" the headline of a new blog post, nor should he apologize for the text that follows it :D
DeleteI think, even by the standards of this blog, deep dives into the metaphysics of Tékumel qualify as esoteric.
Delete"To a devotee of Sárku, this outcome is abhorrent."It'd be abhorrent to me, too.
ReplyDeleteI have to admit that when I started reading this article, the religion/worldview seemed heavily over-engineered to me. But once I got to the part that explains how this works out in the plot, I absolutely love it. How I interpret it: Attempting to become an undying ruler, accomplished with the assistance of a Cult and through deals with a God. Love it.
ReplyDeleteTékumel is over-engineered and, for me at least, that's part of its appeal. I love me some baroque fantasy.
DeleteFair enough. For me though, although I do really like the plot you described, I think the setting is not for me; I already have problems trying to memorize all the class features of my D&D 5e character. And I haven't even yet attempted to internalize all that 'Forgotten Realms' lore yet. ;)
DeleteI can't say anything other than that I'm impressed by the thought that went into this plan. So, how long ago was it that you thought "wait a minute, a Sarku worshipper wouldn't care about the Báletl, and if you became undead you... huh"? Is that a question for the retrospective, maybe?
ReplyDelete/andreas
It's an idea I've been playing with since very early in the campaign. Since the characters belong to a Sárku-worshiping clan, I made a great effort to make sense of their worldview and the consequences of it. After that, it was only a small step to conceiving of Dhich'uné's gambit.
DeleteThere’s a scene in The Man of Gold novel that shows this. In a big convocation in the underworld overseen by Dhich’uné, Sárku devotees come down to visit loved ones who have become undead. There’s one particular touching bit where a man and his wife reunite with their deceased child.
DeleteI included stuff like that in the campaign, too. Some of the elders of the House of Worms clan are undead, who live in the underworld. Likewise, Znayáshu, one of the original characters, had a long-term goal of reanimating his deceased fiancée, Tu'ásha (and eventually succeeded).
DeleteIntriguing work! As a Tekumel fan i recognize a couple of the sources you’re pulling in there but you’ve definitely “made it your own”. It has indeed seemed that The One Other is more ‘acceptable’ than the other Pariah Gods, but since none of them are really defined in terms of what they are gods of, how or why is an open question.
ReplyDeleteWhat’s the worth of a soul? Does an emperor’s have more value than a handful of princelings’ or a horde of commoners’? The sacrifices needed to obtain Divine Intervention look paltry to me compared to the expenditures invested by the Deity. It seems to me more of the deity requiring a proof of devotion (like fraternity hazing or the like) rather than actual recompense.
ReplyDeleteI’ve also preferred the view that the deities are only dimly perceived, which explains why other cultures have different sets of gods, where some seem to be hybrids of the Tsolyáni ones, sort of like how Roman writers would describe other religions. This makes direct negotiation with one ambiguous. The Book of Ebon Bindings and the Sourcebook seem to support this view but, on the other hand, indicate that the demon lords of other planes are far more identifiable as individuals.
I will be curious where this all ends up.
"Excellent Dead" 🎸
ReplyDelete