Solo Lessons on Transendence

A strange Jamoura is said to be outside the Temple of the Unkown. [Skill Grind: Philosophy & Meditation]

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A lawless town of anarchists, built on the ruins of an ancient mining city. [Lore]

Lessons on Transendence

Postby Kynier on February 4th, 2019, 4:25 am

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12th of Winter, 518 A.V.


It had been some time, but Kynier finally was coming around to see it for himself. He was walking towards the Temple of the Unknown at the eleventh bell to see this Jamoura people had been talking about. As he grew closer, the Temple’s unique calming presence slowly crept over him. But Kynier was distracted from the words that someone… no… something was shouting out. While there were no other people around, the voice was echoing. “Our bodies are mere shells! Those that we shed upon death, like a snake discarding its skin for a new one!” Kynier paused in his step. Reincarnation was not exactly secret, but he knew very little about it.

As he approached the base of the temple, the voice calling out strange things went quiet. The sorcerer looked around for the one that had been shouting. While he had never seen a Jamoura, he’d heard about their physical characteristics. Kynier stopped just outside the temple’s entrance and looked around in the calm silence. There was no one. “Have you come to learn to transcend your reality?” a voice said loudly and close by. He wiped around and angled his head up towards the source. The Jamoura was perched on a flat surface over ten feet above the entrance to the temple. It had been sitting in a way that disguised it as part of the structure.

“What do you mean by ‘transcend our realities’? Are you talking about Apotheosis?” The Jamoura slapped its hand over its eyes with an audible clap.

“Humans! Always thinking about power!” It dragged the hand down across its face as it grumbled. “The acquisition of godhood does not change one’s reality. Only their viewpoint of it human.” The Jamoura began to climb down from its perch. Thick limbs grasped nooks and ledges with feet that looked like hands. Kynier’s eyes widened at the sight of how large it was. “Even gods die. The only thing that lasts is the soul!” The Jamoura touched the ground and came closer. It moved on all four limbs, bearing more weight on its arms than its hindquarters. “Life, pain, pleasure, death, and even fate can be averted. By becoming more than what you are and doing so by abandoning these concepts of what you are.”

Kynier crossed his arms as he thought over the creature’s statements. His expression a mixture of disbelief and intrigue. What it was saying sounded absurd until he really gave it some thought. Humans… in fact, all mortals quickly became engrossed with things and centered their lives around them. Food, mating, magic, or even service to the divine. But, if one did not become a divine being, or an immortal of some sort, what other state of existence was there? “Alright then, but what does one do to ‘transcend reality’?”

The Jamoura looked at him for an instant then gestured at the small grass field just off the path to the Temple’s entrance. “Come this way and I will give you the seed. One which you will have to nurture on your own if it is to grow.” The Jamoura took to the grass and Kynier followed suit.

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Lessons on Transendence

Postby Kynier on February 4th, 2019, 4:26 am

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“Unburden yourself of your cloak and your shoes.” It sounded more of a command with the ease of a suggestion. Kynier arched an eyebrow at the Jamoura that set its rump down on the grass. After an instant of waiting, he undid the clasp of his cloak and neatly folded it. He stowed it away into his pack then undid the laces of his boots. Kynier set the pack and his boots to the side and felt the warm grass caress the soles of his feet. As he walked over ,he noted how intently the Jamoura was staring at him.

“Why is it that I am standing in the grass barefoot?” he asked skeptically as he took a place to stand in front of the Jamoura.

“What is your name Human?” Kynier crossed his arms and tried to hide the beginnings of his frustration.

“Kynier Haltara.”

“Listen Kyn, there is one thing that mortals do that hinders them immensely,” the Jamoura said with animated use of his hands and arms. “They confine themselves Kyn. But feel the grass with your toes,” the creature extended its feet and gripped the grass repeatedly. The sorcerer looked down at his feet. While he could see where the Jamoura was going with this, he went along with it. Kynier shifted his weight and held a foot out. The toes scrunched together to capture several blades of grass in between them. The soft waxy texture caressed his skin as he pulled his foot back towards himself.

“Feel that. That is the world. Not this thing that civilization calls a city. Where grass and trees are uprooted for crafted stones and shoed feet.” Kynier planted his foot and sighed. The creature seemed to be changing the subject.

“What does that have to do with transcendence?”

“Be patient for my words, Kyn. Transcendence comes from understanding. It is esoteric and not purely intellectual. You are thinking too much. Questions are good, but only if they are the right questions, Kyn.” The sorcerer let out a soft sigh and decided to go along with it. Looking down at the ground, he focused more on the feeling of the grass between his toes. It was… soothing. The last time he had felt that sensations must have been during his youth. “There. Doesn’t that feel better?” a smile of a sort coming to the Jamoura’s face.

“To transcend, you must first understand what you are. Not the title that you let others bestow upon yourself, or that even you bestow on yourself. But what you are when everything that you know and are familiar with is stripped away. What is left behind? Understand that and improve upon that. Those are the beginning stages of transcendence.” Kynier thought on the words. The idea of stripping away everything. His gaze was scanning the buildings around them and across the river. His imagination trying to perceive Sunberth as what it was before it came to be. Had it been part of a forest or just a grass field before? As his eyes turned up at the faint cloud of smog generated from the Slag Heap, he considered what the hills looked like before the eternal smoldering began.

Nature, before civilization and innovation. What was he before all of that? If he had lived in the times before the empires, what would he have been? Kynier looked at the Jamoura that had silently been observing his internal reflections. “What is your name?”

“Names are one of the chains that holds us down. Restricting our potentials and confining the soul. But you can call me Numerius.”

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Lessons on Transendence

Postby Kynier on February 4th, 2019, 4:27 am

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Numerius shifted his feet under him and reached out to set his hands in the grass. “What we are, without all the influences we experience in life, is a sacred thing. Our bodies might be temporary shells, but they deserve the highest quality of care.” The creature took a plank position, keeping its spine in a straight alignment until it titled it’s head up to look at the sorcerer. “Join me in these exercises, Kyn. They will strengthen your mind and have positive effects on the spirit.” Kynier crouched down and set out his arms to take a plank position but angled himself to be able to see what Numerius was doing by turning his head to the side.

The Jamoura bent his elbows tight against his body as he dipped his upper body low to the ground without touching it. Then straightened them again and arched the spin backwards, having the pelvis close to the ground. “What are you Kyn? You are not the profession you’ve learned. You are not what people tell you that you are. You are not what you tell yourself that you are. So, what are you then?” Kynier copied the motions that the Jamoura made and felt the stretch in his spine as his arms locked to support his weight.

“Am I not the skills that I have, or the knowledge that I know?” Numerius raised his rump into the air and tilted his head toward the ground with arms straight and outstretched against the ground.

“Yes. And no. Others can also have those same skills. Others can also have the same knowledge. And someone may also have both the same knowledge and skills as you. But what you are is unique, Kyn. So then, what makes you unique in a way that no one, nothing, else can be?” Kynier’s arms were quaking a little as he had his upper body inclined towards the ground and his rump in the air. Trying to think of the qualities of him that were truly his own. That disqualified his race, for Human was not a specialized characteristic.

It also revoked his claim of being a mage. Or even being a sorcerer. For it was a concept he was learning from someone else’s writings. What was he that no one else could duplicate or emulate? As Numerius raised a foot into the air above his rump, Kynier realized he could only think of one thing. “I am Me,” he said with a little grunt between his words as a leg was raised into the air. “My soul is my own. And no one else can copy that.”

The Jamoura brought the raised knee to his chest and set his foot down close to his hands. Raising his upper body up, he reached to the sides with both hands to create a flat plane. Head faced the forward hand while the torso was twisted to the side. Kynier followed suit and first found relief. But when he looked at how far forward Numerius was angled over the forward foot, he adjusted. Kynier bent his knee until his thigh was perpendicular to the ground. The strain on to body was immediately noticeable and he worked at regulating his breathing.

Holding the arms up in such a way was also more strenuous than he expected. Together, they held the position for a while before bending at the hips to return to a plank position and perform another cycle but with the other leg. “But do mages not say that the soul is pure Djed? And that Djed is in everything?” Kynier paused for an instant in the middle of a transition. His mind quickly made the connection. What he was, was a piece of everything. Part of a grander whole. Numerius took a glance at him in the following silence. “Keep moving, Kyn. Always moving. Stagnation is the equivalent of death. Water flows and life gathers around a river. Still water gathers nothing, and it turns murky.”

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Lessons on Transendence

Postby Kelski on February 15th, 2019, 12:55 am

G R A D E S
Kynier -

Rhetoric +2, Interrogation +2, Philosophy +3, Yoga +1

Philosophy: Only The Soul Is Immortal, Jamoura: Numerius’s appearance & Mannerism, Humans: Confine Themselves With Clothing & Thoughts, Transcendence: Involves Understanding The Self, People: Are Sacred Things, Numerius: Believes Bodies Are Temporary Shells, Philosophy: Kynier Is Himself – His Soul, Philosphy: Numerius advises to keep moving. Stagnation Is the Equivalent of Death.




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