The Caravan

The Caravan is a liquid concentration which acts similar to a hive mind. This liquid concentration split into multiple different fragments each roaming Alathra individually. Periodically these fragments will pull together both animate and inanimate objects to serve as a host, allowing The Caravan to have a physical shape. This physical shape can resemble most species that exist or be a twisted compilation of surrounding dirt and trees. While it is very uncommon, these hosts can serve as a means for The Caravan to interact with people on Alathra.

Description
As listed above The Caravan in it's most basic form is a liquid concentration. This liquid concentration is mostly black, but refracts a purple hue if exposed to light. This coloring is most commonly seen in the eyes of The Caravan's hosts. This liquid travels through land mass primarily and can infect and take over inanimate objects or the bloodstream of animate objects. Most of these fragments are indistinguishable, maintaining a hive mind like nature, referring to themselves as we. However, each fragment, while sharing memories, can also differentiate between their own memories and that of other fragments. This leads to certain fragments having individual personalities, names, or stories.

Nature
The Caravan as a whole has a very basic nature that it follows: passive observation. Very rarely will The Caravan interact with other people and the majority of these interactions are purely dialogue. The Caravan has access to the past and can view all of it as a whole. This includes the memories, thoughts, and intentions of individuals. This allows The Caravan's dialogue to cut deep and leave a resonating impact on the mental and emotional state of any individual. Utilizing all the information of the past The Caravan will usually attempt to drive the other party towards the most 'exciting' outcome. This usually means war, famine, or any other grave turmoil.

Stories
A compilation of stories about The Caravan and its numerous fragments.

The Caravan's Arrival
[Thousands of years pre-ME]

A single drop fell from the heavens. One tear, pitch black, translucent in the moonlight. The liquid sunk into the dirt, spreading to the roots of a nearby tree. As the moon crossed the sky the tree, the grass, and the flowers all withered and died. A sphere of dead nature, diameter of 10 meters at most, a perfect circle. Water no longer ran through the tree, the pitch-black liquid replaced it, serving as a blood stream. More moons passed over the tree, the pitch-black liquid becoming one with the tree, serving as its blood, muscles, and even its mind. The tree wasn’t enough.

The mind within the liquid grew conscious. It hadn’t given itself a name yet. The liquid spread through the tree, the grass, the flowers, bringing nature back. The liquid seeped through every cell of its hosts, meshing with the fibers of their being. The flowers were plentiful, the grass was green, and the tree blossomed. The liquid spread, through the dirt, a single consciousness remaining connected regardless of how it moved, splitting itself apart and spreading its reach across the terrain.

As the liquid spread, moving in and out of individual cells, organisms, and objects, it learned more. One fateful day the liquid made its way, entering an elf’s blood. The liquid had taken its first breath, opened its eyes for the first time, and taken its first steps. The unique feeling, wind blowing through the elf’s long white hair, grass brushing through each individual toe, the clothes weight down on its shoulders. Its eyes looked up at the sun, nearly entirely pitch black except for a light shade of purple thrown in. Those eyes could see; however, the entire landscape was already structured in the liquid’s consciousness.

The elf kept its gaze up at the sun, taking in its heat radiating through the cracks in the trees. The consciousness instead was intrigued by the ants making their way past a blade of grass a few meters from the elf. Immediately the consciousness spoke to all other fragments of the liquid. The liquid quickly spread its way through the dirt and grass, entering cows, ants, birds, humans, and fish alike. A unified gasp for air, having reached the far corners of the world, the purple shaded black eyes blinking in sync.

Within a half second the liquid left the bloodstream of the entities it inhabited, making its way back into the dirt. All the fragments left, except the one that remained in that elf girl’s blood, its nearly black eyes still staring at the sky, as it took its first step forward. The remainder of the fragments quickly pulled in the dirt, building twisted humanoid entities. In unison the consciousness’ monotonously spoke, a mix of varying vocal cords, designed using grass, dirt, and twigs, “we are the caravan.”

One such entity, spun up from the nearby trees, grass, and stone, stood at the edge of Prospit. Its center of mass was humanoid, with 4 legs made of intertwining branches wrapped around large rocks for feet. It’s back slouched forward, emphasizing the length of the individual tendrils escaping from where it’s shoulders should be. The tendrils dragged across the floor, the dark brown branches leaving their imprint in the dirt. Its face was twisted, its mouth shifted nearly vertically, placed where it’s cheek should be. Last of all were the piercing black eyes, cemented in place, the light purple reflection barely noticeable in the light of the setting sun.

The various entities comprised of twigs, stones, dirt, grass, and other compost all collapsed, the liquid moving continuously throughout the land. Fragments bent themselves into entities at will, assembling and dismantling with ease. They could take a few steps, speak, breathe, listen, just as most higher creatures would, before returning to the dirt. The elf with the black eyes knelt, brushing its hand through the grass, slowly opening its mouth to speak, “Felu, a part of us.” Felu’s hair changed color from the root, spreading until every individual thread was a sleek pitch black, refracting a slight shade of purple in the light, matching its eyes. The liquid took over every drop of blood within the elf, replacing it with itself.

The liquid did not see through the elf that much should be apparent. Its consciousness was an expanse, viewing everything at once, as if it were all an extension of the liquid, every organism and object registered as a feeling cycling through a nerve. This description alone isn’t enough, for the consciousness saw all paths in time leading to the point it was in. It saw everything from each tree being cut down to each thought and feeling circulating within creatures. The liquid didn’t care, it observed, watching the landscape shift. Each individual fragment making up the whole caravan was part of the ‘us’, sharing consciousness. Soon even the Felu fragment discarded the body, forcing the earth around it to swallow it whole. Felu quickly traveled through the landscape, making its way to the base of the tree where the first drop had fallen. With the resources around itself the fragment rebuilds the elf’s body, taking hold of it once more.

It stared at the tree for a moment, looking at its blossoming branches, providing food and nutrients for all the nearby animals. The grass itself had grown vibrant and tall, stealing resources from the grass outside the circle of influence. The flowers had grown tall, more beautiful than any modern florist could comprehend. Felu the elf stepped back, dark hair flowing slightly over the shoulders in the wind. The elf body left the circle of influence and The Caravan thought to itself; *unbalanced*. Within an instant a black sphere engulfed the circle, vanishing a mere fraction of second later, leaving nothing but a crater.

Osyn and The Caravan
[Approximately 80 Pre-ME]

A fragment took hold in a large centipede-like creature, made from the surrounding mud and sticks, wrapping around the base of a large tree. A human was approaching, looking for an answer. The Caravan saw all, it could surely give the man an answer. “The path you need lays before you, wanderer,” the fragment said, keeping itself hidden with the trees, its voice echoing in the forest below.

“Hello?” the man said, shuddering slightly, “who’s there? what do you mean with the path I need?”

“We illuminate that path, we have watched you journey through maturity, the fragile determination binding you to fate,” the fragment whispered. “Fate, peculiar as it being not the only path taken, for we see all the paths, but we watch as a fish you swim where the current takes you.”

“I don’t know what yo—"

“You care for many things, your wife, your children, your family. Your wife cries to fall asleep, the aching pain within her soul. A thread cut cannot be reattached without leaving a trace, her father hurt her, but you knew that. She smiles and you smile. You smile knowing that the current isn’t the only direction the fish can move.”

The fragment spoke making it seems like the voice was coming from its own mind, “so tell us traveler what is it you seek?”

The man was taken aback by the information. Surely the voice speaking to him could help then. The man stuttered as he softly croaked, “I want my wife to be happy again and not be in pain.”

“An apple falls from the tree when it is ready, when it intends to. Its only purpose is to serve as a nutrient for the organism that will soon eat it, but it’s own wish is not to fall from the tree to serve. You grew up your entire life a wealthy man. You smile and she smiles. Everyone fell at their knees for you, a man of power and riches. Anything you wished you could ask for.”

The fragment continued, now almost speaking from within the man’s thoughts. “You couldn’t possibly want something except to make your wife happy. But deep in the corners of your soul, locked in the chest you never thought to open is what truly haunts you. Your prestige is what brought you here. She smiles and you smile. Regardless of the smile, you think to yourself whether without the birth rite you would’ve had any of that.”

The centipede-like creature moved from tree to tree, circulating around the man, eventually reshaping itself into a blonde girl. The girl stepped out from behind the tree, as story book as you would expect a flawless maiden to be. It walked closer to the man watching it, he eyed it as it approached. “It’s okay,” it said, pulling him into its arms, wrapping it warmth around his chest. It cradled his head into it arms and held him close.

His body shuddered slightly within its embrace, it pulled back resting its arms on his shoulders gently. Its pale blue eyes looked directly into his, looking deeper into his soul. “It hurts doesn’t it?” Its soft voice gently caressed its way into his ears. “The weight on your shoulders, it’s almost too much to bear. But you are too good for that aren’t you, you must carry the weight?”

The man's face was slightly strained, “What weight?”

“You are Osyn are you not. We know of you. Manage the trade of goods between Alius and the Farlands. Why don’t you tell us?”

“What weight?” Osyn demanded in a broken voice, but the short blonde girl looked up at him poignantly. “I was a trader my whole life, I worked my way to the position I am now with hard work. I make a living for me and my family. So, what weight?”

“That weight,” the girl said softly and started to pout slightly, “And the weight you’re holding on to. We see all of it there’s no reason to hide it.”

Osyn sighed heavily looking up at the sun peering through the leaves. “My wife was the sister of the queen in the Farland’s. In the end her connections are what got me this position. I’m the dedicated agricultural importer for the Farlands. My wife seemed to only care about me until I got this job. Her and her sister are probably siphoning money.”

Osyn knew the burden he carried on his shoulders; The Caravan knew it to. The girl looked up at him begging for him to continue. “Now that Vastata, the king, has been killed, her sister won’t be in line to rule anymore. That entire family is gone because of that whore,” Osyn paused for a moment, “I was just a tool for my wife wasn’t I. I don’t know the last time has used my actual name. I’m just a wealthy man used to make some people even wealthier.”

Before Osyn could break down again, the girl held him close, “So tell us Osyn, who’s weight do you carry.”

“Everyone’s, all of it,” Osyn said, a tear now falling down his cheek.

She brushed the tear off his face, “it doesn’t have to hurt you now anymore. You don’t have to worry whether they really love you or not.” The man turned walking away from the clearing with the girl used to be. The fragment had already disassembled into the floor. By the time that fragment had reached the next continent, the man’s lifeless body was already swinging by the neck at the edge of the forest. The Farlands were now doomed to fall.

The Caravan and the Inquisitor
The inquisition, they called it. The inquisitors called them the Devourer. In their so-called age of subjugation, a group of these inquisitors turned their blame towards The Caravan. The Caravan watched as the hubris of artifact creation led to the near extinction of humanity. The Caravan observed another entity wipe the memories of the horrific destruction. But some remembered. One of those men, Maoilios Ó Corraidhíni, led a crusade against what he called the Devourer.

The proto-Pyrrhians lived subjugated by the thriving bandits and warlords. The rise of the Free Cities of Alathra and the destabilization of society thank the Orkni Extinction Event ended the Age of Nature. At this time, the Felu fragment found itself exploring western Arith, taking control of various mammals and misshaping their bodies to look like Felu’s preferred form. The dark-haired elf with black eyes cared not about the damage it was causing to sentient beings, leaving their bodies destroyed after Felu was done with it.

Maoilios, saw the Felu fragment on multiple occasions, leaving sheep and deer in unsightly states. Limbs were torn off and moved, joints disfigured, and bones sculpted. Once the Felu fragment left these animals, they died immediately or died suffering. As the Druidic Annals warned, the Devourer had returned to the Realm of Existence, Maoilios thought to himself. Maoilios gathered proto-Pyrrhians under him under the belief that banishing the Devourer would in turn remove the plight of the bandits and warlords.

The First Encounter
Maoilios had originally gathered a group of 120 followers to join him on venturing in the woods to hunt the Felu fragment. This group included proto-Pyrrhians and druids alike, both hoping to reclaim their homeland. Only a few warrior-druids and remnants of the Elchsdringen Clan opted to join Maoilios. While he had convinced some, most opted to continue to live in the safety of nomadic ways, constantly avoiding bandits and warlords.

After weeks of travel and losing 8 followers to bandits, the Felu fragment finally took notice. The 112 remaining followers sat around the camp, burning large bonfires to ward off bandit encounters. A noise startled everyone, followed by the center most flame turning to a black, reflecting a purple light. Fear spread quickly, some arming themselves looking to the surrounding trees for bandits, others delving directly into prayer, and a few running into the forest.

The fire regained its color as a deer walked forward into the clearing, bows and swords directed at it. The followers watched in horror as the deer stood on its hind legs, its bones cracking, blood spilling from the twisted joints. The deer grew more and more humanoid, the fur receding, the pigmentation of its skin changing near pale, and hair spreading from the now head of the creature. In a matter of seconds, Felu opened its black eyes at the crowd gathered around it.

An arrow flew past, originating from shaky hands, landing in the dirt next to Felu. Maoilios stood in the middle of the crowd, capturing Felu’s unwavering gaze. Another arrow flew, burying itself into the tree behind the fragment. Arrows continued to fly, each miss calling for another one. At some point, realization struck that the arrows were changing direction as they approached the elf-like creature in front of them.

“You wish to banish us?” a voice rang out from the woods. Felu’s mouth didn’t move at all, but there was no doubt it was the fragment speaking. The voice itself was sweet like silk, calling out like a siren in the ocean. Without asking anything more, some men dropped their weapons and fewer dropped to their knees in tears. A disarming voice, promising safety, bliss, and love as long as you listened to it.

Maoilios stepped forward slightly, still shuddering, “Devourer you should not have returned to the Plane of Existence. It is cruel of you to use Erses’ form to strike fear into my men. I will act on behalf of Erses to banish you from this place.”

Felu strutted forward up to Maoilios resting its hand on his cheek. Everyone remained paralyzed around the two as Felu wrapped its arms over his shoulders. The fragment’s mouth opened as if to whisper slightly, but the forest continued to speak on its behalf, “We do not know of this Devourer you speak of, nor of this Erses. Your false deities mean nothing to The Caravan.” It brushed its lips up to his cheek, kissing him slightly.

“The Devourer would have us lose our faith,” Maoilios shouted to his followers before pushing away the fragment. Felu laughed slightly before skipping slightly into the clearing, its hands locked together behind its back. It turned back to the crowd before leaving its possession. The crowd watched as the hair, pigmentation, and eye color left the deer. As if it was being wiped away from the top down, the elf-like creature returned to the broken deer. Once the feet had returned to hooves, the deer buckled, blood gushing out of its snapped neck and its broken limbs.

Felu's Individuality
The Caravan had many fragments, all part of the us. They observed, rarely meddling, rarely showing their changing forms. Felu was the only fragment with a name. Felu was the only fragment who showed a shred of their power to the sentients that roamed. Felu thought differently than The Caravan, strange as it was. The Caravan couldn’t act. While Felu could sense some distaste, The Caravan was one mind and thus had to avoid thinking about any actions against Felu.

Most of the us knew though, that Felu’s actions had grown too far, it was overstepping its role as casual observer. A noticeable sum of fragments had begun taking form on Arith, to counterbalance Felu’s actions. While the rest of The Caravan preferred to take shape in inanimate objects, there was a clear disadvantage to doing so. Less strength, stability, and flexibility. But after Felu’s encounter with Maoilios, it began to take its form in many deer and elk. A breath of fresh air before leaving a disfigured corpse.

Felu took shape in the middle of a herd of deer, sensing the approaching fragments moving through the dirt. All 17 deer around Felu began shifting into faceless people, with dark eyes being their only characteristic. Varying shapes, races, sizes formed all in a circle around the one dark-haired elf. In unison, all of them spoke, their voices echoing from their mouthless expressions, “We must speak to discuss the actions of The Caravan.”

The Caravan continued to speak, sounds escaping from their empty husks, “Our interaction with the proto-Pyrrhians has given them too much information about us. We are passive observers, unknown to the sentients of this plane.”

“The one who calls himself Maoilios leads a rebellion searching for us. The name they hunt us by is irrelevant, this has gone further than our intention.”

The Caravan had continued to change speakers, but as the voice resonated from each entity, it was difficult to distinguish which fragment of the hive was speaking. However, the dark-haired elf who possessed a face now opened its mouth to speak. “We see the lines, do we not, the sum of everything’s parts. This rebellion will lead to calamity for the proto-Pyrrhians. A spectacle we can behold. Will they survive and learn to thrive under their conditions, or will they crumble like the many other lesser civilizations littering the continents.”

“Our vision can only see the events as they occur to others. Fate regarding us keeps itself concealed. We cannot foretell how our intervention thus far will impact us. Our view on the calamity befalling the proto-Pyrrhians is blurry, it is not assured in the slightest. We must discontinue our interactions with them.”

“We are being blind sighted by fear. These simple sentients can do nothing to hinder our observation, our pleasure, our third-party bloodlust. We have watched as they scrambled insignificantly, attempting to recover after the Orkni. The start of civilization has happened once, the second time is significantly less interesting,” The Caravan spoke with Felu’s mouth moving. As the last thought from Felu finished, the liquid drained from the deer, leaving it in its horrendous state.

The remaining fragments of the intervention also left their hosts, scattering to the far reaches of Arith, each mindlessly considering the effects that Felu is causing. They shared one mind, all thoughts, and actions visible to each fragment. Felu had grown to be its own mind somehow, and it would continue to plague the proto-Pyrrhians. For now, they would soon uncover the 18 twisted deer lying dead in the forest. For them: an act of war by their deity’s counterpart, the Devourer.