EJGRgunner/TheObsidianProphecies
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Contents
- 1 Description
- 2 Translation
- 2.1 Beware the grand-children of Your Fathers and Mothers.Beware Your champions.They will turn and be turned in kind.They bore you in littersof jade and adamantto thrones gold and silver and frozen mercury,but You turned Your gaze awayand now You cannot know what things in shadow donemight bring to Haven Dome.Beware Your lesser brothers and sisters,Your cousins, your closest Kin.Turns of dole will feed upheaval,And turns taken through deathLead death through mazes and prisonsThrough citys and skiesThrough gates and canals.And death shall comeAnd take the final turn.
- 2.2 Know that no crime dies.Each and all live on,Memories frozen like long-lost crystalIn the hearts and eyes of the wrongedAnd their gets and kins.Know this, Old Mother:Your body will again be bathed in blood,And the victims of your apostasy,Will send forth plagues of menFrom ancient prisons and ancient graves,And no flood of tears across your holy cheekWill cleanse you of their pain.Know this, Great Kings of Thieves:Your Fates are not eternalAnd you will not see your Endings Looming.Blinded in contestsBlinded in intriguesNo Holy Shining LightWill fall upon the instrumentsThat measure your fallIn eternities and starsKnow this, Haughty Prince:Not all that diesIs trapped in death.Even the tightest cagesMust open at least once.Your prisoners will move their bars again.And poor portents,of pain and night and dark,will come to pass on Earth.Know this, Prodigal:No number of lifetimesMay cleanse your soiled soul.You will for others.You hoist and heaveAnd yoke men in great numberBut tether you to another power.Know this, Proud Warrior:You cannot wash awayWith blood or myrrhThe puissant stench of shame.You are secreted awayIn the fringes of the world,But knit as you may,You only unravel the fabrics you hold dearAnd the Frayed Things will walk fearlessly unto your homes.
- 2.3 What shall we do as the Great City burns?Shall we sing an epic of blood and glory,Or lay odds on the ill-fated heads of the Masters and Mistresses?In shadows, lightless fires burn.Vandals crouch about, shifting from pyre to pyre,Waiting, wanting, whetting dark appetites for smokeAnd flame.Unquenchable thirsts drive the mightyTo slake themselves at the well-springsOf the Holy Burgh.They leave behind a husk,Withered and combustible.As the great wheels move again,A spark shell be set to unkempt cloths.The immutable shall be made to melt.The tempered artifices shall burn.Then Reverend Manses and Holy StreetsShall become a city of ash.
- 3 Comments
Description
The Obsidian Prophecies are, in fact, a series of black stone tablets engraved with an arcane script of unknown origin. The Forbidding Manse of Ivy contains no direct records of their existence, and vague references and allusions to items that might be the Prophecies do not begin to appear in historical archives until after the Contagion.
Only one set of original Obsidian Prophecies has ever been located. Members of House Mnemon recovered the artifact in RY 721, and have jointly studied it, mostly through the in-House distribution of translated copies of the text, with accompanying essays and commentaries written by various House members.
Apparently, copies of the Mnemon translation and commentaries have quietly found their ways into private libraries far from the Blessed Isle. At least one copy can be found in Nexus, and there are certainly some in Yu-Shan, as well.
Translation
Beware the grand-children of Your Fathers and Mothers.
Beware Your champions.
They will turn and be turned in kind.
They bore you in litters
of jade and adamant
to thrones gold and silver and frozen mercury,
but You turned Your gaze away
and now You cannot know what things in shadow done
might bring to Haven Dome.
Beware Your lesser brothers and sisters,
Your cousins, your closest Kin.
Turns of dole will feed upheaval,
And turns taken through death
Lead death through mazes and prisons
Through citys and skies
Through gates and canals.
And death shall come
And take the final turn.
Know that no crime dies.
Each and all live on,
Memories frozen like long-lost crystal
In the hearts and eyes of the wronged
And their gets and kins.
Know this, Old Mother:
Your body will again be bathed in blood,
And the victims of your apostasy,
Will send forth plagues of men
From ancient prisons and ancient graves,
And no flood of tears across your holy cheek
Will cleanse you of their pain.
Know this, Great Kings of Thieves:
Your Fates are not eternal
And you will not see your Endings Looming.
Blinded in contests
Blinded in intrigues
No Holy Shining Light
Will fall upon the instruments
That measure your fall
In eternities and stars
Know this, Haughty Prince:
Not all that dies
Is trapped in death.
Even the tightest cages
Must open at least once.
Your prisoners will move their bars again.
And poor portents,
of pain and night and dark,
will come to pass on Earth.
Know this, Prodigal:
No number of lifetimes
May cleanse your soiled soul.
You will for others.
You hoist and heave
And yoke men in great number
But tether you to another power.
Know this, Proud Warrior:
You cannot wash away
With blood or myrrh
The puissant stench of shame.
You are secreted away
In the fringes of the world,
But knit as you may,
You only unravel the fabrics you hold dear
And the Frayed Things will walk fearlessly unto your homes.
What shall we do as the Great City burns?
Shall we sing an epic of blood and glory,
Or lay odds on the ill-fated heads of the Masters and Mistresses?
In shadows, lightless fires burn.
Vandals crouch about, shifting from pyre to pyre,
Waiting, wanting, whetting dark appetites for smoke
And flame.
Unquenchable thirsts drive the mighty
To slake themselves at the well-springs
Of the Holy Burgh.
They leave behind a husk,
Withered and combustible.
As the great wheels move again,
A spark shell be set to unkempt cloths.
The immutable shall be made to melt.
The tempered artifices shall burn.
Then Reverend Manses and Holy Streets
Shall become a city of ash.
Comments
Much coolness. -- Miedvied
