Divadamakalluh [Added]

[Sload]

The credit for this really belongs with Gez, who originally wrote the Diagnamakala around a year ago. It went through some gestation to reach this stage, and I want to justify the changes I made to Gez' most excellent text.

The most important alteration is probably the switching of the principle actor from Diagna to Divad. I felt Gez' story did not properly present Diagna, who did not actually lead the Wave at all, and that it did not present Diagna's relationship with Frandir Hunding, which is essential to their story as two halves of the HoonDing.

I also unified the text, instead of being paragraph length vignettes, it is now one single continuous piece of prose, which I felt was a better format. Additionally, I formatted quotes with a dash, to be consistent with the Skyleap, I added some sections to improve the flow, and I reorientated the ending to really be about Divad's specific story - that he is the union between civil leadership and military prowess, and that he will become Emperor.

Note that the phrase do anHoonDing is difficult to translate. I would say either "the son of both halves of the HoonDing" or "the consequence of the union of the HoonDing;" really both. Do means "because of," "the child of," or "from," and the prefix an means "total," "all" or "complete."

The Divadamakalluh
[also transl. as Divadamaqlah, Divadmaqqalu, or Mkalla-Divadu; The Trial of Divad]
abridged

This was at the siege of Usthûk, the great stronghold of the boars on Nalhuban, and Divad, Son of Strife, fought fiercely and resolutely against the swine-monsters, a spearhead stabbed into their flanks. And as the battleground soil drank the manure of their foul ichor, it gave birth to orichalc flowers of battleprowess under the feet of the Ra Gada. Soon Diagna was at the foot of the wall, and with his soulsteel sword he hacked and sliced down stone and iron.

Tayo! Down went the metal plates.
Tayu! Down went the granite boulders.
Taya! Down went the backed mud.

As the walls fell, so did the filthy warriors, washed in Malooc's wastes. In a giant heap they collapsed on Divad, a drowning mass of flesh and dung.

Kayo! It was the end of them.
Kayu! It was the end of him.
Kaya! It was the end of the battle.

The Ra Gada killed the remaining dirtfiends with deathflowers picked from the field, but they were few, as almost all the demons of Usthûk had been felled by Divad's blade. A gaping wound had been made on the face of the fortress, and the Ra Gada collected the provisions from its storehouses. But first they dug Diagna from the pile of mosshogs, and he rose, frail and weak. The pigchildren, in their dying breath, had cursed him with their pestilence.

―How can a man so weak ride the great Wave of Yokuda? he lamented to his soldiers. Leave me, I am worse than dead: my arm cannot lift a sword. Keep your memories of my victories, do not look at me now. And he threw his spear at the foot of Usthûk and left for the desert, but he did not see that it was grabbed by greedy hands.

The sand of the eternal Alik'r is the mirror echo of the Far Shores, and Diagna wandered across their dunes, waiting for the endway. In blighted Daq'fron, he was ambushed by sinople boars, who noisily rejoiced at the sight of their defenseless opponent.

―Ha! they called, Divohud is puny! Divohud is weak! We will eat your flesh and wipe with your skin after the feast!

Their jeers were so ignoble to hear that a striped snake could not bear it and slithered sneakily out of its hole. It bit each monster thrice, in their heart, their liver, and their sword arm. All died.

In the days to come, the snake followed Divad, though he wished for solitude. No words were passed between them for nine days, until Divad, dying but too proud to admit it, asked the snake with his clearest voice:
―Why are you so hale and hearty, having kissed that festering corruption? What protects you?
―It is simple: my venom kills their taint.
―Then bite me as well, so that your poison may cure me from that curse.
―If I bite you, you will die.
―Better to die of your fang than from this foul sickness.

And so the striped snaked bit Divad, and for three days its poison burned in his vein. For three days, Divad burned immobile under the Alik'r sun.

On the first day, Morwha visited him so that he would not die too soon, and she suckled him with morning dew. The plague fought the poison, and nearly won.
On the second day, Zeht visited him so that he would not die too soon, and he made a cactus grow a pricklepear for him to eat. The poison fought the plague, and nearly won.
On the third day, Tava visited him so that he would not die too soon, and the wind moved a dune over him to shield him from the burning Sun.

And Divad, cut from the world, could only look inward and found his strength. He gathered his fierceness and purged the swine-plague from his body, for he was a warrior and would not fall to his enemy's blow. He gathered his dignity and purged the snake-poison from his veins, for he was royalty and could control his temperament. And from his womb of sand, Divad emerged healed.

As he rose in the sand, Divad was greeted by Ruptga, who embraced him with joy. The Tall Papa spoke to him, saying
―My son Divad, you are truly the son of Yokuda and the father of the raga. You have been tried in all your aspects, and you have overcome victoriously. Tungasa do anHoonDing! But be wary, my warrior, for your spear is held by a yiko who cannot be trusted.

Divad ran right back to the conquered hold of Usthûk to reclaim his spear. His army had finished mourning him and did not expect him to return, so they all had sworn fealty to Ko-okso, who ended the Wave with much land still in the hands of the pig demons so that a palace could be built for himself. When Divad approached, many were anxious with wonderment, but Ko-okso mocked him, saying
―Divad is dead! This is a madman, who has taken to the illusionism of the nudrimen. Or else it is a trick of Malooc, to divide you.

But Diagna produced his shehai, and the people were agape for no one else could have wielded it. Divad laughed has he fought the traitorous Ko-okso, who refused to return the spear, and laughed as Ko-okso fell, sliced clean in half, saying
―Raga! I have learned the names of combat and royalty, and their meanings, and I have overcome the treacheries of plagues and poisons! And with the words, the tyrant died, thunderstruck.

Though he did not know it and though Diagna the Tiger Emperor would reign for many years to come, he had been proclaimed that day as Emperor by Ruptga, for he was Divad, and with both his Sword and the Crown, he would lead the Wave again.

No longer would he turn his face from his people.
No longer would he trust an enemy against another.
No longer would he let himself be deceived by trickery.
No longer would he turn his face from his people.

He was Divad, the Emperor Unknowable, the Son of Strife, the Lord of the North Wave. Mhungasa do anHoonDing!

[gro-Dhal]

It had me at 'deathflowers'. Wish I could write stuff like this.

[Lady Nerevar]

i liked it originally and i still do

My son Divad, you are truly the son of Yokuda and the father of the raga. You have been tried in all your aspects, and you have overcome victoriously.

something about this strikes me as out of sync for some reason. doesnt quite seem to conform to the same style, imho.

[Sload]

I don't see it, so there's nothing to be done unless you can explain how. I could see you thinking it either skewed too far to the playful ridiculousness of some myths or too far to the side of the stilted seriousness that goes along with some stories. So is it too formal or too informal?

[Lady Nerevar]

its not a major problem, and i doubt that i can really explain it i'd go with it being too serious, stilted like you said. doesnt sound like something Tall Papa would say while embracing him with joy. meh, i dono, as i said its an extremely minor point.

[Nanu]

I've always read anything like this like it came from an aboriginal medicine man around a large fire. The way it flows is good, as anything like this would have been picked up from generational stories.

I like this stuff, Sload. It makes our world more vibrant.

[Sload]

remember credit belongs mostly to gez

[Nanu]

It's noted all over the place. I was talking more about your body of work than this in particular. I'm thinking some sort of Imperial guide to these written in plainspeak would be nice.

My ideas are usually dumb, though.