tanngrisnir on tanngrisnir

Ask Oberon. I tend to believe Dworkin wanted a living data bank of information and personality in the case of amnesia or magical curse. I believe he wanted me for being Troy, not for doing his dirty work for him.

I was born as a simulacrum with 100% of Dworkin's knowledge, and placed in a remote villa in case Dworkin should become addled and forgetful. Instead he became a god, and gifted me with the knowledge of all the Troys of Worlorn. The Phoenix gifted me with the Breath of Life and now I am virtually my own man.

I have become the Faerie Queen in a chess game between the God of Reflection and the God of Life. Each god has endowed and granted powers far in excess to what the other ever expected. I am no longer predictable by either of them, and they no longer use me.

Unlike The Prince Who Was 1000, Troy Made Whole by Champion, I will not strive for easy power, fail, and sit in reflection for three generations ineffectively striving to recover morganti'd loved ones. I am a man of action; I am Troy at 19, a man in his youth, but with the wisdom of all Troys preceeding me.

I would make a place much as Dworkin did, and be certain all the family had equal places (until someone greedy fucked things up..er waitaminit). I would invite Oberon into the place via a Pattern based on the proven design. I would demand Oberon patch the imperfections I make, mortal-mind imperfections that create dooms such as Illithids. In return I would pledge troth to demand nothing ever else of him, but permit him free-will to reign supreme in New Trioa's religious matters.

I would not resign and run away as the Half-elven One did, but I would rule as nominal first voice in a council of elected peers seated at a round table. I would not publish rules for our downfall. I would encourage family particapation in politics based on peerage-of-merit and not sorcerous might.

From TroyOunces@aol.com Fri May 5 13:06:52 1995 Subject: Tangrisner's Dark Night

Chrysofar lounges, legs on the left arm, head leaning on the right, on the unrestored Seat of Troad as activity buzzes about her. The horizon is no longer visible from seated perspective as the new city is built about her by eager hands. Construction workers, intent only on the new palace, leave her feeling as alone as the first time she came to the throne on the deserted plane.

Tanngrisner steps up behind her and pauses, pauses, pauses. He says nothing until Chrys leans her head back over her shoudler and looks up to him.

The peace on his face breaks instantly. "I'm sorry," he says. "Splayed about the throne there you reminded me of s....someone I knew once upon a time. You've met her, I think. I miss both of them a lot these days."

He sighs and shrugs, then points to a scarred socket in the throne's back. "You should keep them from replacing emeralds in the empty holes. It could be an effective reminder of Troad's mortality on whoever sits here next" He sits on the right arm above Chrys' head, shifting her light hair gently in his dark hands. "We need to talk."

Chrysofar shrugs and casts her eyes elsewhere.

"A strange thing happened just now," he begins. "I was wandering about the countryside and came to a watering hole in a quartz deposit where three mages and a Trojan priestess were arguing. They fell silent as I drank my fill. I rose to continue my journey only to have them stop me. `Aren't you supposed to be a replicant of Troy?' the Priestess asked. When I nodded, she glanced at her friends and said something that makes me wonder.

You know what that was? "She said, `how can you drink from a pinque spring if you're a simulacrum?' That's what she said. 'A Pinque spring.' I smiled and said, `You mean pinque, as in Fuzzy Pink the god of anti-magic?' and she nodded.

I told her to `pray for wisdom,' and walked away. The shakes didn't start until I was behind a rock. I stayed hidden there until I could walk. It took me an hour to get back, and nothign looks the same, Chrysofar.

"What did you and that elf do to me? If I'm not a magic item, then I can do EVERYTHING Troy did when he first arrived here. I can Dream, I can make a Pattern, I could fall in love or even have sons and daughters." Tan falls silent, and for a few moments longer Chrysofar shares the quiet.

"When Threnody and I brought you back, he Wished that I would cast the simulacrum spell as Troy had, giving you all the power and all the information and knowledge Troy gave you originally. He wished this thing while I was reading a scroll over your flesh as it lay in emerald dust from this city, with all this strewn on the Pattern floor." Tan begins to speak, but Chrys interrupts.

"When we were done with the spells, Threnody knelt down and I thought he kissed you. Maybe instead he took on his Aspect and breathed into your mouth as The God of Life.

Tangrisner's eyes grow wide, "I remember that." He nods slowly. "I think he did. He must have. Today I drank from a pinque spring and lived; afterwards I failed to dispell myself, and even cast an anti-magic shell around me. Yet I live.

"Mistress, I'm no magic item; I'm as much alive as you are!" Chrys takes his hand in one of hers and squeezes it, but Tan doesn't squeeze back. "Too bad I still have bindings to you. At least you're a nice slave driver," Tangrisner says wryly, now squeezing back. "That part of the simulacrum deal seems to have worked just fine.

"You know what else? Somehow I came up with the memories of my previous `life' as a simulacrum. I know everything I did in my `previous life' before you . . . ressurrected me. I remember my first day with Troy. I remember Threnody's first command, and obeying even before I knew who he was. I remember hearing your sudden voice coming from Trump, in the air above my head the day we first met, the day I asked you to kill me. Wherever the knowledge came from, maybe the Pattern held it until I was raised again. Whatever, whatever, I know everything I have done and seen as well as what Troy wanted me to know.

"Chrysofar, I remember everything. I can do anything Troy ever did. I know what he knew as First Man on Worlorn. I know how to draw the Pattern and I know I can bind all of Shadow to it. I know how to use the Muse to turn Troad into turf. The only thing I don't know is whether it's my right or my curse. It certainly didn't do the Half-elven One any benefit to be Troy in a world built and run by Oberon. Would it do me good or harm to remake Troad as it was made before? Do I exclude Oberon from my plans? Must I do that in self-pre servation?

Tan looks down on Chrysofar, sitting in the Throne of the Gods. "You are the `Defender of Troad.' Is it the place of Tangrisner to become the new Troy, or do we need to seek another path to your Troad?"

Subj: eavesdropping on Chrysofar
Date: 95-05-12 23:51:30 EDT

He takes both of her hands in his. "My dear Chrysofar. I am not the Troy of your dreams and neither is Oberon. He may not even be able to forge a copy of that Troy any longer. And honesty take my tongue, I do not WANT to be your Troy. I'm sorry." He looks away.

"Cinnamon and Spice are still in command of my heart." He releases your hands and steps away, looking out of the tower of Dolbadarn, over the sea of Chaos. They remain in this stance, Chrysofar seated and Tangrisner at the windows for a time.

"If you truly want the Half Elven One, then we shall summon him back forthright. His wishes will be as leaves before the wind of your superior will.

"I cannot remain in a world with him. Grant me only the time to prepare a gateway to leave this world and follow my loves to theirs, please. Thereafter I shall do whatever it takes to this thing for you. I will bring him here. Whatever the cost, no matter the pain, if it is the Wish of your Heart, this thing I must do for you.

"Perhaps this is why Threnody and Oberon made me again."

From TroyOunces@aol.com Sat Jun 3 09:22:41 1995

Bleys warns Eressea that Tanngrisner managed unsupervised access to Bleys' oracle machine for "only a fucking half an hour" and Tan is now Nostoi, but not yet master of the Machine Room, level 1

"Which he fucking would be by now if level mastery could be achieved out of d-state or without Chrysofar being aware." Bleys is perplexed as he is annoyed. "Damn that man," says Bleys. "No question any more he's Troy Ounces. At least he calls me 'brother' instead of 'son.' What a bastard." Bleys breaks off contact.

From TroyOunces@aol.com Sat Jun 3 10:35:48 1995

Hail and well met Hektor of Troy! I am Tanngrisner, a trojan much as your father and uncles. I hope we are to be peers and equals in the family scheme [a sentence I've constructed very very carefully].

From TroyOunces@aol.com Sat Jun 3 08:55:29 1995 Subject: Pandora's mouth

Tanngrisner is heard even 100 yards outside the Sturdy Castle of Dolbadarn, at the new temple to Ptah:

"Eat shit and die! Discreet! Discreet? Yes Mistress, I'll be discreet! Eat me! Discreet? Ha ha ha-ha ha-ha ha! My first free-willed action I make in my fucking life my first die roll of my life I rolled an 02 with 135%+ to spare! That's Discreet!"

He pauses only for one breath.

"Who the hell decided she didn't want to leave right away? It was YOU who decide to wait until the next fucking day! On the road he never woulda known I stole it. ON THE ROAD ANY FUCKING ONE COULD HAVE PICKED HIS FUCKING POCKET! But NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO! Her Dustiness had to wait until the next goddamn morning. My arm still has the fucking blisters after a fucking meta-wish! It's probably part of my fucking Brownsheet!"

Tan shakes his swollen wrist in Chrysoafar's face. It's swelled up and puckered around his new outbangle, with flakes of ash around some of the blisters.

Tanngrisner suddenly turns sideways, disappears in a vertical line of white light. He's OUT OF THERE. Gone. Bye-Bye. Not found in Dolbadarn, no way, nuh-uh: Not at this place in this time.

Tan puts a block on trump, and every time Chrysofar finds him on her pocket mirror, Tan shuts that mirror down for 24 hours. After 4 days even Oberon's Pocket Mirror cannot find Tanngrisner.

tanngrisnir on worldbuilding

One: always and only one. There was always exclusively one Troy at a time until Banteay Srei and his buds woke up the clone which came to be known as the Half-elven one. The god permitted it to live from whimsy: to see what would happen. If the living Troy had been a mortal, there would have been a fight to the death when a second mortal form appeared.

Poor mortal. You saw sow the Half-elven one withdrew and became irrational when he found that he could never compete against his own self deified (Oberon). I'm forced to believe I'd do EXACTLY THE SAME THING in identical circumstances. Fortunately, Oberon is a crippled deity now, so I'm able to distain him him as I would any other god and follow my own path without seeing him arriving before me every time I invent something.

Oberon will remake Troad over my dead body. If we each make a new Turf, then we'll be OK; we have no more relationship between his Troad and my New Troad than for example a new Troad and a new Fountains of Paradise.

However, it's so much easier to remake Troad that it's sure to be a race. I will not lose the race, and unlike the Half-elven one, I did not start a race with a god after it was over.

as you are so much of Troy the Half Elven One who ran away from his responsibilities for whatever reason, will you do the same? Or will you stay and do what you can?

What responsibilities did he run from? Troad belonged to Oberon, not the Half-elven one. The Half-elven one 'ran away' from Hissarlik, but he intended it from the start as a self-sustaining self-governing system. That's a pretty damn good feat if you ask me.

I have no responsibilities save for my own life and my service to you, Chrysofar. I will be responsible for any world that I create, and I shall be a better master than Dworkin or Oberon ever was for Troad.

I can avoid their discovered mistakes.

You can create everything he could, you can do everything he could. Now the question is will you, and do you want to?

I have already started.