A tale of the Rise of the first Vernal God,
and of love ensnared in destiny's web.

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Characters
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Gorob
Lyrea el'Arai
Lord Rithaen el'Arai, ruler of Glomborolum
Various nobles of Glomborolum
Illith the Leviathan
A minstrel

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Prologue
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EFFECT 1: The scene is dark as a starless night, still and empty as the void.
Slowly it lightens to the deep, mysterious blue of a twilit sky, and the soft
voice of a minstrel pierces the gloom, her voice raised in a sombre and elegaic
melody.

Minstrel: The truest songs are sung with tears.
Minstrel: Fair stories are with sorrows fraught.
Minstrel: So hear this tale of bygone years
Minstrel: And fallen cities lost to thought.

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Act I: Childhood
-----------------

* Scene: A coral garden
This garden is filled with bright coral, growing into whimsical and lovely
shapes. Rosy pink, cloudy white, emerald green and sapphire blue, the coral
turns the garden into a flurry of colour. A large clam rests in a corner of the
garden, half-hidden by clumps of seaweed.

COSTUME: Lyrea (young), Gorob (young), Rithaen.

EFFECT 2: The stage brightens and focuses, revealing the scene to be not sky
but sea - a clear blue ocean, dancing with scattered light from the surface far
above. The sea seems empty, but slowly shifts and shimmers.

EFFECT 3: The scene seems to blur and waver, and focuses all at once into a
breathtaking panorama of a coral reef, vividly coloured and teeming with life.
Bright fish dart among the coral, and tiny firefly squid shimmer in and out of
view like tiny candles.

EFFECT 4: In a secluded nook of this reef is a small garden, with bushes of
coral and sea anemone. The bed of the garden is scattered with tiny shells in
the manner of gravel, and a large, living clam serves as a bench. Upon the
bench sit two merians: a very young girl, cupping a tiny piece of coral in her
palms, and a slightly older boy, who is reading a book.

ENTER: Lyrea and Gorob, silently.

Lyrea: Gorob, look at this! I think I've heard about this kind of coral before.
It's really rare! Papa gave it to me.

Gorob: mumbles incoherently, eyes still fixed on his book of engraved
mother-of-pearl. His fingers trace patterns in the water as he reads, as if
sketching out pictures.

Lyrea: Gorob, you're no fun.

Lyrea: crosses her arms and sulks wildly.

Gorob (Raising his head) : Hm, what?

Gorob: looks bewildered.

Lyrea: Were you listening at all?

Gorob: opens his mouth, then closes it again.

Gorob: No.

Lyrea: gives a trillingly melodic laugh.

Lyrea: Thought so. Anyway, Papa says I can learn from the Coral-keepers if I
want to when I grow up. You'll be in the Coral-keepers too, won't you? I'm sure
they're the nicest guild in the city!

Gorob: Mmh, coral. Nope.

Gorob: returns to his book, only to have it snatched away from him by Lyrea.

Lyrea: Oh, you always bury your nose in these. What are they about, anyway?

Lyrea: turns the book over and reads its cover aloud.

Lyrea: 'Runes of Power and the Concentration of Mental Energies'?

Lyrea: looks skeptical.

Gorob: Hey, give that back.

Gorob: makes a grab for the book, but Lyrea, lightning-quick, swims out of his
reach.

Lyrea: You'll have to get it if you want it!

Lyrea: tucks the tiny book in the pocket of her dress and swims off.

Gorob: Hey!

EFFECT 5: Gorob swims after Lyrea in hot pursuit through the coral, until the
shallow plateau on which the garden was falls away beneath him, and the city of
Glomborolum comes into view.

* Scene: The Great Square of Glomborolum
This square, located in the heart of the city, is a flat and sandy expanse,
paved with seashells and hemmed in by buildings on all sides, with streets of
white sand leading away from it. On the northern side of the square is the
palace of Glomborolum, its spires of delicate coral rising high into the
crystalline water.

EFFECT 6: Gorob swims after Lyrea in hot pursuit through the coral, until the
shallow plateau on which the garden was falls away beneath him, and the city of
Glomborolum comes into view. Glomborolum is a sight to move the weariest heart.
The streets are of white sand, paved with shells in a rainbow of colours, and
slender spires of pink and white coral rise into the heights. Vivid tropical
fish swim in schools among the spires, much like pigeons in the sky, and many
merians walk in the streets, going about their daily business.

Lyrea: darts towards the greatest building of all, a great palace of pearl and
pink coral, polished and glimmering like an underwater rose.

EFFECT 7: The doors of the palace open, and a stately procession of merians
walks out, fanning forth with fanfare and pomp. Lyrea vanishes amongst them,
her tiny form disappearing in the crowd.

EXIT: Lyrea, silent.
ENTER: Rithaen, silent.

Gorob: Lyrea, you little twit! Come back!

Gorob: swims into the head of the procession.

Gorob: Oops, sorry!

Rithaen: stares implacably about himself.

Rithaen: Who are you, young man?

Gorob: Er, Gorob. I'm a ward of the Runists guild, sir.

Rithaen: narrows his eyes unnervingly.

Rithaen: Be off with you, then, back to your guildhall.

Gorob: But I was looking for -

Rithaen: says nothing.

EXIT: Gorob sighs and swims away.

* Scene: A delicate coral room
This room is all of delicate pink coral, pierced and fluted into beautiful
shapes by a master crafter. The furnishings are simple but beautiful, with a
small dresser and an oval mirror upon a wall, and a bed of seashells and pearl.
A small window looks out upon the square below, and is framed by floating
seaweed curtains.

EFFECT 8: The scene shimmers and wavers until it shows a delicate coral room
inside the palace. Lyrea is here, sitting on a small bed and looking out of the
window at the street outside. A small frown is on her face, and from time to
time she murmurs to herself.

ENTER: Lyrea, silent.

ENTER: Rithaen knocks lightly on the door and enters.

Lyrea: looks up.

Lyrea: Hello, papa.

Rithaen: So what was that all about?

Lyrea (confused): What?

Rithaen: Someone followed you to the palace.

Rithaen: raises an eyebrow.

Lyrea: looks entranced and emits a long "Ooooh."

Lyrea: He kept up with me? Where is he?

Rithaen: I sent him back to his guild. Who is this person, Lyrea?

Lyrea (defensively): My friend.

Rithaen: Hm. And what was wrong with your other friends, that you would
disappear every day for the past two weeks? What about Lady Mariana's son or
Lord Ysalan's daughter? They're both nice young people. Why would you forego
their company for that of some child with no family, who relies on the charity
of the Runists for food and shelter?

Lyrea: looks dumbfounded.

Lyrea: Papa, I wish you would stop saying these things. It makes you sound
so... so nasty.

Rithaen: I am not cruel, Lyrea. I do my best to help those who need it. I do
but wonder if this uncultured boy is fit for your company. Why, I heard him
call you a little twit.

Lyrea: gives a trillingly melodic laugh.

Lyrea: Papa, do you know why I play with him?

Rithaen: No, I do not.

Lyrea: Because he doesn't like me.

Rithaen: starts to say something, but Lyrea cuts him off.

Lyrea: the others are all 'Oh, Lyrea, you're so nice and sweet.' 'Oh, Lyrea,
won't you mention to your father this or that?' I hate it when they do that.
Gorob doesn't like me. He yells at me when I annoy him and ignores me when he's
reading. And somehow I like that.

Rithaen: ponders the matter.

Rithaen: Sometimes, my girl, I wonder if you are still a child at all.

Lyrea: grins impishly.

Lyrea: Does this mean you'll let me start my apprenticeship with the
Coral-tenders?

Rithaen: Well, now, we'll see about that.

EXIT: Rithaen puts his arm around Lyrea's shoulders, and together they leave
the room.
EXIT: Lyrea, silent.

-----------------
Act II: The Edifice
-----------------

* Scene: An arcane study
Cool, calm shadow reigns in this small room of sandy stone. The room is unlit
save by an opening in the ceiling, through which the distant light of the sun
filters through, shimmering blue with the ripple of waves. Books of seashell
lie strewn haphazardly all about, but the small shelf in one corner is still
stuffed full to bursting.

COSTUME: Gorob (grown).

EFFECT 9: The scene changes to show a far vision of the city of Glomborolum.
The sand is still as white as ever, and the coral as fair, but the light
shimmers and wavers in sign of the passing of years. The background shimmers
and focuses, until it is a scene of an arcane study of stone and sand.

ENTER: Gorob sits at a desk, poring over a tattered book of seashell pieces
strung together. He is grown now into a scholarly-looking young man, and wears
the robes of a Runist.

Gorob (mutter): Damn it, -what- happened to old Alainte city? These things
don't just vanish without a trace!

Gorob: holds the book closer to the light streaming in from the opening above.

Gorob (reading from the page): 'And the Old... hunger? consumed. Divine might,
irresistible. Great jaws, hunger. Doom. Gods pity. Bane of cities.' What is
this thing?

Gorob: slaps the book down on the table, frustrated. The slim shell of the page
breaks, and he swears softly, then stops short as he sees a slimmer-yet page
concealed within it.

Gorob: picks up the page with delicate care and scrutinizes it. It is written
in a cursive script entirely unlike that of the original page, but he reads it,
albeit haltingly.

Gorob: "Oh divine... goddess, why. Nothing defended from the Illith. The
darkness without... spirit? Soul? Divine One, you alone can... keep us from the
Devourer."

Gorob: The darkness without a soul. So great only a goddess can fight it.

Gorob: The bane of cities.

Gorob: rises abruptly and paces the room.

Gorob: There must be some truth in this tale. Why, why are there no records of
any cities from more than five hundred years ago? We know the mortal races have
been here for far longer. What happened to these old cities?

Gorob: They died. What could happen to us, without even a goddess to ward us?
We're worse prepared than they are.

Gorob: shudders.

* Scene: A council chamber
This chamber within the palace is high-ceilinged and gloriously decorated with
pearls and seashells. A number of coral chairs are arranged in a circle around
an empty space, in which an orator might stand to give a speech. Large double
doors lead out of the room, and a wide steel bar allows them to be barred from
the inside.

COSTUME: Lyrea (grown).

(CT): Rithaen: The Coral Council will be gathering in the Palace shortly for
our annual meeting. All citizens wishing for an audience may come to the
council and petition for a hearing.

EFFECT 10: All over the city, people stop what they are doing. A murmur runs
through the streets, and several people scurry forth towards the direction of
the palace. The scene shifts and wavers, until it shows a grand chamber,
bedecked in pearl and seashells. Rithaen stands alone here, looking pensive.

ENTER: Rithaen, silent.

Herald: Lady Lyrea el'Arai, Keeper of the Coral!

ENTER: Lyrea enters from outside. She is grown now, a tall and regal young
woman, beautiful in the ritual attire of the Administrator of the
Coral-tenders, but still with the same joyous smile of the little girl that she
was. She hums happily as she takes a seat.

Herald: Lady Mariana, Lord Ysalan, Lady Elien and Mistress Karieth of the Coral
Council! Sir Veylan of the City Wardens!

EFFECT 11: Various merian nobles scurry in, some looking glad, some harried.
They file into the seats one by one until they fill the hall completely. There
is one empty seat, however.

Herald: Thenos, Master Runewright of the Runists!

Gorob: enters the room. He ponders thoughtfully and inclines his head politely
to Rithaen, who looks surprised.

Rithaen: I gave no order for the supplicants to enter yet.

Gorob: smiles wryly.

Rithaen: Where is Master Thenos?

Gorob: Master Thenos has retired due to his age, my lord. The election for his
place has ended but this hour, and it seems that his duties are now left to me
to do.

Rithaen: looks slightly irritated.

Rithaen: Well, take a seat then.

Rithaen: Turns away from Gorob and faces the other nobles gathered there.

Rithaen: This is our annual gathering, where we will plan our coming year. Are
there any Council members who would like to propose projects?

EFFECT council1: Veylan: My Lord, I propose a great tournament to be held in
the city. With it, the warriors of our city can demonstrate their prowess with
sword and spear.

Rithaen: smiles at Veylan.

Rithaen: That is a very good proposal, Sir Veylan, and fitting of your
honourable guild. Any others?

EFFECT council2: Lady Elien looks slightly irritated, casting a frowning gaze
on Veylan.

EFFECT council3: Veylan meets her gaze and smiles slightly, inclining his head.

EFFECT council4: Elien: I propose a Festival of the Arts, my lord, that the
people of Glomborolum may remember that beauty is more praiseworthy than
bloodshed.

Rithaen: laughs aloud.

Rithaen: Well said also. Any others?

Gorob: stands up.

Gorob: Sir, I propose to build a spire, an Edifice of Power to concentrate all
the energies of the city into one place. It may take us several years or even
decades, but I do believe we will finish it in time.

EFFECT 12: A dumbfounded silence settles in the room.

Rithaen (coldly): Master Gorob, I fail to see how this is in order. What use
would it be? And in time for what?

Gorob: holds out a scroll.

Gorob: This is what I have found through my research, sir. There is a vast
power of destruction loose in the world. One of the Old Ones, the first gods,
who are called the Soulless. This creature is named Illith, and she devours
all. Her body encircles the world, and her maw may reach us in times to come.
She destroyed the ancient cities. Gods were defeated by her - what of us, we
who have no gods to defend us? This Edifice alone may save us.

Rithaen: stares.

Rithaen: Master Gorob, I cannot tell if you are jesting.

Lyrea (suddenly cutting in): He is not.

Lyrea: If he says it is necessary, then it is. There is possibly nobody else in
the city who has done as much research about the ancient civilisations as he. If
he says there is a force of evil at work, then I believe him.

Rithaen (after a long pause): Well. I must admit this is not the sort of thing
I thought would come up in Council. The meeting is suspended, that all may
think on this matter.

Rithaen: strides out of the council chamber, robes swishing behind him.

EFFECT 13: The councillors mill about, the hubbub of their voices rising into a
chaotic noise. Slowly, they trickle out of the room, still arguing over the news
they just received, until only Gorob and Lyrea are left.

Gorob: Well, that went better than I expected.

Gorob: I half-expected him to call me a lunatic.

Lyrea: My father is more reasonable than you seem to think, you know. After all
these years, I'd have thought you would know that. Though you've really been
rather close-counseled these past few days. You didn't even tell me about the
election!

Gorob: I didn't tell you because I didn't want you to know if I'd lost. Also,
it's you I've known for years, not your father. You aren't him, for which I am
eternally grateful.

Gorob: grins mischievously.

Gorob: Now, all I have to do is to think of a way to actually make those
edifices work before the councillors come back.

Lyrea: You haven't learned how to make them work yet?

Lyrea: peers at Gorob unscrupulously.

Gorob: Well, I've gotten the runes right, but not the vessel. Stones are all
right, but they aren't the best at concentrating power. I need something
organic, but those are too soft and decay too easily to hold the runes.

Lyrea: frowns in concentration, cupping her hands together. A tiny speck of
coral grows in her hands, blooming like a living thing into an intricate and
beautiful rose, pale as alabaster. She smiles in pleasure and pats the little
blossom tenderly.

Gorob: Are you even listening?

Lyrea (with a barely concealed smile): No.

Gorob: mutters discontentedly.

Lyrea: tucks the tiny coral flower into her hair.

Lyrea: Incidentally, have you tried using coral?

Gorob: stares.

Gorob: By gods, Lyrea, that's it! You're a genius, I swear!

Gorob: leaps up and twirls Lyrea around giddily, then, on a sudden impulse,
gathers her into his arms and kisses her.

Lyrea: sways, a bright pink flush rising in her cheeks.

Rithaen: Ahem.

Gorob: jumps guiltily. He turns around to find that Rithaen is standing in the
doorway to the council chamber, and is looking at him with a none-too-pleased
look on his face.

Gorob: Erm...

Lyrea: looks at Gorob and Rithaen, then very calmly steps forward and kisses
Gorob in return.

Rithaen: sighs.

Rithaen: (resignedly) I take it you two have something to tell me, then.

* Scene: The Great Square of Glomborolum

EFFECT 14: The scene shimmers and wavers, drawing further away from the great
council chamber and merging into a view of the great square of Glomborolum at
night. A multitude of people are gathered there, as if in expectation.

EFFECT 15: A great coral spire rises from the centre of the square, illuminated
by its own light. Glowing runes cover its surface, seeming to flow and merge
into each other. It is half-finished, surrounded by scaffolding and supports.

Rithaen: swims above the half-finished spire.

Rithaen: It has been three years since first we began our great construction,
and thanks to the aid of all of you, what was thought the work of decades is
almost completed. In a year and a day, our great spire will be complete!

EFFECT 16: The crowd cheers, waving their hands joyously.

Lyrea: stands among the crowd, gazing up at the spire. In her hands she holds a
tiny crystal lantern, filled with tiny firefly squid, which gives off a warm
golden light.

Lyrea [to Gorob]: A year more, and it will be done.

Gorob: The Spire?

Lyrea: No. Our waiting, remember? We agreed that the day the Spire was done
would be our wedding day.

Gorob: smiles joyously.

Gorob: Yes, I remember.

Lyrea (skeptically): you seem distracted.

* Scene: A coral garden

Lyrea: takes Gorob's hand and draws him away from the crowd. They turn into a
quiet little alley, and away from the city, until they reach a garden - the
same garden they played in in their youth.

Lyrea: So, what's the matter?

Gorob: Nothing. Just the thought of the work.

Gorob: frowns slightly.

Gorob: My colleagues in the Runists found a strange possibility in using the
Edifice. I originally thought that it would merely raise enough power to drive
the Soulless back, but my fellow Runists proposed another theory.

Lyrea: Which is?

Gorob: Wielding so much power could well be too much for a mortal, so the
mortal spark within them may be burned away.

Lyrea: turns pale.

Lyrea: You'd die?

Gorob: No, no. Not quite. It's the opposite, actually. Currently we think that
such power would raise the one who wielded it into divinity.

Lyrea: turns even paler if possible, the blue of her skin turning an ashen
shade.

Gorob: seems to have only just noticed the effect his words had on Lyrea.

Gorob (concerned): What's wrong? Do you feel unwell, beloved?

Lyrea (fiercely): Don't call me that! I would you had told me this before we
plighted our troth.

Gorob (looking confused): But Lyrea, I didn't think you would react like
this...

Lyrea: You didn't think! Well, that's your fault then!

Gorob: Lyrea, I don't understand. You do not love me?

Lyrea: shuts her eyes briefly.

Lyrea: Yes. Yes, I do, Gorob of Glomborolum. But I could never love a god. How
could I ever love one who had such power, who could annihilate me with a
thought?

Gorob (shocked): But I wouldn't hurt you!

Lyrea exclaims: That's not the point!

Lyrea: That you could would be enough. When such an imbalance of power exists,
there can be many things. Fear, perhaps. Worship.

Lyrea sighs: Love, never.

Gorob: begins to protest.

Lyrea (cutting him off): And then, even if I found that I still loved you, I
would always wonder whether I truly did, or whether it was only because you
willed it, and that would destroy all happiness I found. Do you not see?

Gorob: is speechless.

Lyrea: I can't fight this. Raise your spire, ascend to your divinity. I will be
your follower, your worshipper, and sing your praises in the streets.

Lyrea: brushes brusquely at her eyes, though if she weeps, the tears are lost
in the ocean.

Gorob: I don't want that!

Lyrea: It's what I can give.

Lyrea: stands up.

Gorob: catches her sleeve and draws her back.

Gorob: You didn't let me get a word in edgewise. I was going to tell you that
it doesn't have to be me. Anyone can operate the runes with a few years of
training. I can teach a properly trained Runist to do it in about two years,
and they can go battle the Leviathan.

Gorob: hums a happy tune.

Lyrea: stares.

Lyrea: You'd give it up? Power, immortality, divinity? For what?

Gorob: grins mischievously.

Gorob: Guess.

EFFECT 17: Taking Lyrea's hand, Gorob smiles at her, and she nods slowly in
acceptance. They walk away from the secluded nook, back towards the great
square, until their forms are but shadowy shapes in the sea.

-----------------
Interlude
-----------------
Minstrel: The Fates the hopes of men denied.
Minstrel: A twining web of doom they wrought.
Minstrel: From destiny we cannot hide.
Minstrel: What comes will come, and is our lot.

-----------------
Act III: The Fall
-----------------

* Scene: A delicate coral room

EFFECT 18: The scene shifts again, until it is utterly dark, broken by
star-like dots that, upon closer inspection, are revealed to be the many lamps
of Glomborolum at night. All is silent.

(Clan): Rithaen: Lyrea, come to the palace. Bring Gorob with you. Hurry. This
is urgent.

(Clan): Lyrea: What's the matter now?

(Clan): Rithaen: Come, and you'll see. I fear the news is dire. I don't want to
tell the council this yet - I think they would panic.

EFFECT 19: Out of the darkness comes a bobbing little golden light, revealed to
be Lyrea's lantern. Gorob swims beside her, looking concerned. The two of them
swim towards the palace: not towards the great doors, but towards an open
window in the upper levels. Rithaen is standing there, his form silhouetted
against the light of his room, and he steps aside to let them in.

Gorob: What news?

Lyrea: sets down her lantern on the floor and looks expectantly at Rithaen.

Rithaen: We've had bad tidings from the western reaches. They speak of terrible
things. Darkness, sickness... they've lost contact with Ronahm village already.
They say there's a darkness of the on the horizon, like a cloud. Or some
creature's maw.

Gorob: pales.

Gorob groans: Oh, by the Gods. Already? We'd hoped for a few decades, maybe
even centuries. But this...

Rithaen: She's not moving very fast. The only other person I've told in
Glomborolum is the Librarian. She thinks it may be because Illith is too
busy... devouring.

Rithaen: shudders sharply.

Rithaen: It will be no more than a year, at best. Gorob, you must hurry with
the edifice.

Gorob: But, sir, I won't be the one to use it. I need to teach another...

Rithaen: There's no time. It must be you, and soon.

Gorob: looks beseechingly towards Lyrea.

Lyrea whispers: Do what you must.

Gorob: sighs.

Gorob: All right. If we want to get it done, we'll have to drop everything
else.

Rithaen: It shall be done. How soon will you be done?

Gorob: A month at least. I pray that it will be enough.

Gorob [to Lyrea]: Lyrea -

Lyrea: I pray that the city will be saved, so that our work is not in vain.

Lyrea: trembles slightly.

Rithaen: As do we all.

Lyrea: swims out of the window, her form vanishing in the darkness.

Gorob mutters: Well. I'd best prepare, then.

* Scene: The Great Square of Glomborolum

EFFECT 20: The sea slowly brightens and ripples. It is day now, but not any
day, for the great spire can be seen in the square below the palace. It is
gigantic, towering above everything near, and it is almost done. Gorob is
perched on the very tip of the spire, and Lyrea swims on the other side of it,
inspecting the coral closely.

Lyrea: The physical part of the spire is all done.

Gorob: Yes. Just one more rune...

Gorob: hesitates.

Gorob: Lyrea, I wish I didn't have to do this.

Lyrea: glances briefly at him, her face turning towards the audience, and
sudden despair shows in her expression. She quickly lowers her head again, and
when next she speaks, it does not show in her voice.

Lyrea: Put these thoughts behind you. You will need your concentration if the
city is to survive this attack.

Gorob: Well. Tell everyone to concentrate their mental energies on the spire
once it's done. As many people as possible. It's the only way we'll generate
enough power.

Lyrea: nods sharply.

EFFECT 21: bs effect create 21 yells A merian man yells, "Argh! HEEEELP! It's
coming NOW!"

Gorob: swears.

Lyrea yells: Coral-tenders, to me!

Gorob: sketches a sign before him with his finger, and shining silver streaks
flow in its wake, forming a complex symbol that floats in the water before
settling onto the spire.

EFFECT 22: The whole spire suddenly glows with a silver light, all the runes
upon it flashing and twisting as if it had a life of its own.

Gorob yells: People of Glomborolum, the Spire is complete!

CT: Rithaen: Everyone, go to the spire and focus your energies on it, now!

EFFECT 23: A merian child yells, "Mama! Mama! I can't find you!"

COSTUME: Illith.

EFFECT 24: A giant shadow descends upon the city, as if the sun has been
eclipsed. Shouts echo from somewhere far off, and slowly the form of a giant
creature is seen. It resembles a giant, deformed worm, fat and slimy and
wriggling, yet with a maw full of sharp and deadly teeth.

EFFECT 25: The merians gathered in the square scream in terror and mill about,
seeking a way to flee from the creature.

CT: Rithaen: Citizens! The Spire is the only thing that can protect us now.
Meditate on it, and we may yet be saved. Veylan, take your guard and guard the
square.

EFFECT 26: Several merians in the garb of the Coral-tenders rush to Lyrea's
side, forming a semi-circle around her. They bow their heads and hum, and
slowly sink into trance, their auras linking with Lyrea's.

Lyrea: raises her hands in a gesture of invocation, her face paling with
concentration, and coral springs up on all sides of the square. The pink and
white coral seems to shimmer, snaking up upon the buildings and spires.

EFFECT 27: The coral weaves itself into a great sphere that envelops the square
and all the merians within, blocking them from Illith.

Gorob: is suddenly surrounded by a blinding light. He reels and cries out as he
floats in the water, and his voice swells until it is like thunder, echoing
through the ocean. His features shift and change, and when the light fades, he
is no longer merian, but a radiant immortal, retaining but a fragment of his
original appearance.

COSTUME: Gorob (god).

Gorob: spreads his arms wide and draws forth a shining globe of crackling power
from the water. It resembles liquid fire, and his eyes glow with golden light as
he hurls it toward Illith.

Illith:'s body shakes and convulses in agony. She gives a terrible howl, and
her body smashes into the coral web. Debris rains down on the assembled crowds
below.

Lyrea: bows her head and whispers, and the sphere regrows itself, fine fingers
of coral snaking to mend the gap.

Illith: cries out in fury and pain, and draws back to ram her giant head into
the web. Before she can reach it, Gorob throws another bright burst of power at
her, driving her back.

Gorob: forms another sphere of power, and hurls it towards Illith. It strikes
her directly in her huge, gaping maw, and the Soulless hisses in agony, her
gigantic body writhing.

EFFECT 28: A great tremor runs through the earth in response to the spasm of
the Leviathan. The ocean floor bursts open and searing lava begins to seep
through, and several of the spires in the city shudder and collapse, raining a
fine cloud of sand and debris upon the square.

Lyrea: weaves her sphere of coral even tighter, shielding the merians in the
square. Her face is very pale, and her coterie of helpers look strained in
their trance.

Gorob: throws another ball of liquid fire at Illith. Illith howls and recoils,
turning her head this way and that to avoid the attack.

A merian yells: It's working!

EFFECT 29: A cheer rises from the square.

Illith: opens her maw, revealing rows on rows of sharp, deadly teeth. She
arches her sinuous neck, and spits forth a thick black ink, which drifts like a
deadly cloud in the water before settling upon Gorob and the city below, and
turns everything to impenetrable blackness.

EFFECT 30: Utter darkness dominates all.

Gorob: cries out from somewhere in the darkness.

Rithaen yells: Everyone stay calm!

EFFECT 31: A gigantic smash is heard as the coral web breaks beneath Illith's
huge weight.

Lyrea yells: Rebuild the web! It's com--

EFFECT 32: Screams of agony pierce through the darkness, accompanied by the
terrible, sucking sound of a feeding leech. Then, with a suddenness that leaves
the mind reeling, all noises fade into a silence - the silence of death.

EXIT: Lyrea and Rithaen, silent.

Gorob shouts: No!

Gorob: raises his hands, and the foul ink drifts away. He is howling now, in a
rage approaching madness, and from the water around him he hurls burst after
burst of power at Illith, heedless of his own safety.

Illith: writhes in surprise, and draws back slightly, reeling from the power of
Gorob's assault.

Gorob screams: You will not take my people! I will save them. They are not
yours!

EFFECT 33: The last of the ink clears, and Gorob looks down. The square below
is empty, devoid of a single living soul. Not even bodies are left. Slowly,
stunned, Gorob drifts down until he lights upon the debris-scattered ocean
floor. With shaking fingers he pries something from the sand - a tiny,
alabaster-pale coral rose.

Gorob (whispering): There is nothing left to save, then.

Illith: hisses once more, as if with malignant pleasure.

Gorob: gives one last longing look at the shattered ruins of what was once
Glomborolum, and seems to come to a decision.

Gorob whispers: Forgive me.

Gorob: limps off along the ocean floor, spend and broken, too tired and to even
swim. His head is bowed, and he does not even bother to make haste, as if
ignoring the Soulless - or perhaps daring her to consume him.

Illith: starts toward Gorob, staring at him as a cat might stare at a mouse.
Then, her worm-like body stretches and wriggles, and she settles down again,
her form curled around the now-deserted city, and begins leeching the life out
of the surrounding coral, losing interest in Gorob.

Illith: belches, and a thick miasma drifts once more into the water, enveloping
all in darkness once more.

EXIT: Illith, silent.

-----------------
Epilogue
-----------------

Minstrel: Doom has come and doom is done.
Minstrel: That which was once now is gone.
Minstrel: Of Glomborolum lives but one,
Minstrel: To see the coming of the dawn.

* Scene: A desolate beach.
This beach is lonely and desolate, looking out upon the vast dark blue of the
sea. Seagulls soar like specks in the slate-grey sky, calling their shrill
cries as the foam dashes upon the rocky crags of nearby cliffs. Driftwood and
seaweed lie in a tangle upon the shoreline, battered unceasingly by the waves.

EFFECT 34: The scene lightens slightly, revealing it to be dawn in another land
- no longer the ocean, but a beach. Gorob stands here, his clothes tattered and
his head bowed.

Gorob: All that I loved is lost. And I cannot even die.

Gorob: stares blankly at the sea, then takes a deep breath.

Gorob: Well, so be it. This task I lay upon myself - I will wander all lands
beneath the sun, and teach them the lore of the Edifices. You will not win,
Illith. A thousand Gods will rise to strike you.

Gorob: This is the first strand in what will be a mighty web, Soulless. I will
weave your defeat, though it takes me eternity.

Gorob: turns and walks away slowly along the beach, until his form vanishes in
the distance, and all that is left are footprints in the sand, which are slowly
washed away by the waves.

-----------------
Costumes
-----------------
Lyrea (young): This merian girl is quite young, with skin of pale delicate blue
like to the waves of the sea. She wears a fetching short dress of woven seaweed,
which floats and swirls around her with the ocean currents as she moves. Her
round face is cheery, and her large eyes stare out at the world with unmasked
curiosity.

Lyrea (grown): Tall and graceful, this merian woman holds herself with dignity,
though her eyes sparkle at times with a mischievous joy. Her face is gentle and
rounded and her skin is a pale blue. She wears trailing robes of pink and
white, the ritual attire of the Administrator of the Coral-tenders. In her hair
she wears a tiny coral rose of alabaster white.

Gorob (young): This merian boy looks to be no older than twelve or thirteen,
and wears ungainly grey robes embroidered with the sigil of the Runists guild.
The robes are several sizes too large for him, and he looks on the verge of
tripping at any moment. His hair is cropped short, and he wears a pair of
seaweed sandals.

Gorob (grown): A scholarly air surrounds this young merian man. His face is
lean and thoughtful, and his skin is a deep ultramarine. His eyes are large and
deep blue, and his hands are long and smooth, hinting that his work is magical
instead of physical. He wears long robes of unadorned white.

Gorob (god): This shining being resembles a merian to some extent, but beyond
that it is difficult to discern much about him. His eyes are two shining orbs,
from which spill forth rays of golden light. Wild ocean currents whip and eddy
around him, accounting for his tattered clothing.

Rithaen: Tall and imposing, this merian noble is well into his middle years,
with grey already mingled in his hair. He wears a long official robe,
embroidered with the crest of Glomborolum. Upon his nose sits a pair of
spectacles, with rims of coral and lenses of clear crystal.

Illith: Giant and monstrous, Illith the Leviathan has a body like a writhing
worm, putrescent and foul. Her skin gleams wetly, and her very presence turns
the water around her murky and yellow. Her body stretches off into the
distance, but her maw is very close, and gapes horribly at all present.