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Description
Inlé looked expressionlessly over a cityscape of ruin. The world around him looked more a painting from the surrealist movement than any sane world. The city before him was large, with a plethora of skyscrapers. But many of them were broken, fractured bones jutting from the flesh of the surrounding city.

A rash of fires pocked the city, releasing acrid black smoke up into the purple and grass-green sky. Pinkish-white fog flowed through the city streets and sent large drops of acid rain racing toward the stars.

In the sky itself, an enormous gash had been torn open, and it bled over the city. Though the sun was high, the moon was draped over a nearby tree. The tree itself was enormous, leafless, and made of some sort of multi-colored crystal.

Bubbles of strange gasses floated about the city and the land around it. Anything they touched became warped and twisted. Stone burned, wood melted, fire froze. Cars sprouted flowers after being half-turned inside out. When the bubbles floated on, the things they touched would return to the forms they had had before being exposed. But not always.

As Inlé looked for whomever had requested his presence, he listened to the screams of people fleeing in terror from horrors that were--quite likely--very dangerous and--surprisingly as likely--very much as afraid of the chaos around them as those who fled.
He heard a footstep and turned, unsurprised to see a giant man with a large mouth standing behind him. The man stood over Inlé, looking down at him with cold, dead eyes.

Inlé turned and placed a fist over his heart. "Lord Masod," he said. "What service need you of me?"

Masod glared down at Inlé. "I know you see what this world looks like now. How can you ask 'what service' we need of you? We may indeed need you now, mortal. But that will not be for long."

Inlé said, "As you say, sir. Certainly I have never been to this world before. If my methods seem strange, pray account them to my foreign upbringing, and forgive me my ignorance."

Masod glared down at Inlé for a moment longer, then said, "You at least speak well. Come, follow me to my brethren."

With a wave of one talon-like hand, Masod disappeared in a puff of smoke.

Inlé stood for a few moments, unmoving, when Masod returned.

"Well?" Masod asked. "What is the matter now?"

Inlé punched his heart again. "Apologies, Lord, but I am unable to follow you in that manner. I have not the power."

"Then how did you get here?" Masod asked.

Inlé answered impassively, "By order, Lord. I was called, and I came. But I have not power enough to do so with utter frequency. It would destroy me."

Masod looked Inlé up and down with apparent disdain. "I am amazed that we even requested the aid of such a weakling as this. Very well, I will carry you. You will not enjoy this."

In a third puff of smoke, Masod transformed into a vulture larger than a bull. He flapped his wings to get aloft, grabbed Inlé up roughly with his vicious talons, and began to fly.
Their flight took them away from the city and into a more normal looking wilderness, though the sun seemed to stay just in the corner of Inlé's eye whichever way he looked, as if it moved with them. The sky stayed that strange color as well.

Minutes of flight over forest and desert brought the two to a mountain that climbed well above anything around it. To its summit Masod flew and, reaching that, into the amphitheater there.

After unceremoniously dropping Inlé onto the central dais, Masod transformed back to his black-robed form and took the leftmost of five thrones in front of where Inlé was standing.

All about him sat deities, Inlé knew, as he stood the spectacle on the platform. The five thrones before him were filled by three goddesses and two gods, one being Masod.

Inlé faced these five when he quietly addressed his audience. "Lords and Ladies, I greet you all. I am the Worldwanderer, and I have been called here for a reason. May I then ask, what service need you of me?"

Above the clamor of the host surrounding him, the god occupying the central throne answered Inlé, "As you can see, Wanderer, we are many. A host here to rule this world, and rule it we do. Each has been born into their duties and has been faithful to fulfill the expectations of their followers.

"But something has become of one among us that we cannot cope with ourselves. Much as I am pained to admit, we do not know how to control this catastrophe that has befallen us. So we call you."

Inlé punched his heart as he said, "Truly I am honored to serve you all. What is there to correct?"

"You see," said the goddess in the rightmost throne, "one of our ranks has died. Of itself, this is not unusual. Rensyd rules the flow of reincarnation that controls the cycle of life and death on this world. Because of this, he must regularly die himself and be reborn, that he experience this and understand better his subjects.

"But a few days ago, as he lay dying, a man approached him and somehow captured the soul of Rensyd at the moment of his death. That this ... method is used to prevent the reincarnation of an enemy or to preserve an ally that then may be returned to life instead of reincarnated was known to us. But we did not know that such a thing could work on one of we gods.

"Worse, the man consumed Rensyd's soul, taking on his powers, shirking his responsibilities, and, we fear, killing Rensyd ... forever."

The goddess beside her stirred then. "That we are capable of stopping this once-mortal, we are quite certain, understand. But he has some means of robbing us of our powers. With the powers of Rensyd added to him, we do not know what methods he may be capable of using to steal our powers."

The third goddess, seated between Masod and the central throne said, "What is more, as he does indeed possess the powers of Rensyd, merely to seal his soul away would not benefit us in any way. Mortals would still die, but none would be born. Eventually, all living things of this world would die."

Masod concluded the explanation, saying, "And killing him will do next to nothing, as he decides where and when he would be reborn. We would be forced to lie in wait for him as our world dies around us."

"So we come to you, Wanderer," the first god said. "Though it chagrins no few of our ranks that a mere mortal should save we gods from this danger, we--I--humbly beg your assistance in this."

The god rose, his splendrous robe shining like the sun, and approached the dais. He dropped to his knees before Inlé, saying, "Please, I beg you. Rensyd was--and is--my son. First of my children, and I love him still."

Inlé, impassive, looked down at the god at his feet. "Lord Namryd, please. It is not right for one such as yourself to beg. Please, stand. I am not worthy of this display."

Namryd rose, looking pleadingly at Inlé. He asked, "But you will help us?"

"As best I can, Lord," Inlé answered. "As best I can.

"May I assume he is in the city where I first arrived?"

"Yes," the first goddess answered. "Will you need anything from us for this confrontation?"

"I will. Be ready to grant me some small supports as I need them, please. I do not yet know what that need will be, nor if it truly will be needed. But if I am to need something, may I trust that you will supply me so long as it does not endanger you in the process?"

It was Masod who answered then, "And how will you send your requests? Or discern what will and will not endanger us?"

"Surely, Lord Masod," Inlé said, "you receive your prayers through the same channels as before, do you not?"

Masod stood angrily. "You insult me, mortal?"

Inlé punched his heart. "Not at all, Lord. I merely answer your question. If, Lords and Ladies, I need anything from any of you, you will find yourself in my prayers, so to speak."

A voice from the crowd called, "And how will you know who it is you need?"

Inlé turned to face the speaker, far from the center of the amphitheater. He answered, "I will know, Lord Phask, when I need to. But I will not know any sooner. That is the best I can explain.

"It is also," Inlé continued, turning back to face the thrones, "the way I will know whether my request would endanger you, Lord Masod."

Inlé shifted, his stance. "Now, if I may, I would like to get this first portion finished quickly. Lords and Ladies, I beg your pardon as I take my leave. I will return when I have recovered Lord Rensyd--in whatever form he may now be--or discern it an impossibility.

"I pray to see you all soon."

Inlé dropped down through the dais, disappearing from the amphitheater.

Masod growled. "I thought he said he couldn't jump place to place."

"Patience, Masod," Namryd said. "He spoke truly."

The god pointed to a shoulder-wide ring in the dais where the mortal had vanished. "It seems our mortal has some tools to at least make his job less difficult."

"Humph," Masod said. "The boy's still smug."

Description
Inlé looked expressionlessly over a cityscape of ruin. The world around him looked more a painting from the surrealist movement than any sane world. The city before him was large, with a plethora of skyscrapers. But many of them were broken, fractured bones jutting from the flesh of the surrounding city.

A rash of fires pocked the city, releasing acrid black smoke up into the purple and grass-green sky. Pinkish-white fog flowed through the city streets and sent large drops of acid rain racing toward the stars.

In the sky itself, an enormous gash had been torn open, and it bled over the city. Though the sun was high, the moon was draped over a nearby tree. The tree itself was enormous, leafless, and made of some sort of multi-colored crystal.

Bubbles of strange gasses floated about the city and the land around it. Anything they touched became warped and twisted. Stone burned, wood melted, fire froze. Cars sprouted flowers after being half-turned inside out. When the bubbles floated on, the things they touched would return to the forms they had had before being exposed. But not always.

As Inlé looked for whomever had requested his presence, he listened to the screams of people fleeing in terror from horrors that were--quite likely--very dangerous and--surprisingly as likely--very much as afraid of the chaos around them as those who fled.
He heard a footstep and turned, unsurprised to see a giant man with a large mouth standing behind him. The man stood over Inlé, looking down at him with cold, dead eyes.

Inlé turned and placed a fist over his heart. "Lord Masod," he said. "What service need you of me?"

Masod glared down at Inlé. "I know you see what this world looks like now. How can you ask 'what service' we need of you? We may indeed need you now, mortal. But that will not be for long."

Inlé said, "As you say, sir. Certainly I have never been to this world before. If my methods seem strange, pray account them to my foreign upbringing, and forgive me my ignorance."

Masod glared down at Inlé for a moment longer, then said, "You at least speak well. Come, follow me to my brethren."

With a wave of one talon-like hand, Masod disappeared in a puff of smoke.

Inlé stood for a few moments, unmoving, when Masod returned.

"Well?" Masod asked. "What is the matter now?"

Inlé punched his heart again. "Apologies, Lord, but I am unable to follow you in that manner. I have not the power."

"Then how did you get here?" Masod asked.

Inlé answered impassively, "By order, Lord. I was called, and I came. But I have not power enough to do so with utter frequency. It would destroy me."

Masod looked Inlé up and down with apparent disdain. "I am amazed that we even requested the aid of such a weakling as this. Very well, I will carry you. You will not enjoy this."

In a third puff of smoke, Masod transformed into a vulture larger than a bull. He flapped his wings to get aloft, grabbed Inlé up roughly with his vicious talons, and began to fly.
Their flight took them away from the city and into a more normal looking wilderness, though the sun seemed to stay just in the corner of Inlé's eye whichever way he looked, as if it moved with them. The sky stayed that strange color as well.

Minutes of flight over forest and desert brought the two to a mountain that climbed well above anything around it. To its summit Masod flew and, reaching that, into the amphitheater there.

After unceremoniously dropping Inlé onto the central dais, Masod transformed back to his black-robed form and took the leftmost of five thrones in front of where Inlé was standing.

All about him sat deities, Inlé knew, as he stood the spectacle on the platform. The five thrones before him were filled by three goddesses and two gods, one being Masod.

Inlé faced these five when he quietly addressed his audience. "Lords and Ladies, I greet you all. I am the Worldwanderer, and I have been called here for a reason. May I then ask, what service need you of me?"

Above the clamor of the host surrounding him, the god occupying the central throne answered Inlé, "As you can see, Wanderer, we are many. A host here to rule this world, and rule it we do. Each has been born into their duties and has been faithful to fulfill the expectations of their followers.

"But something has become of one among us that we cannot cope with ourselves. Much as I am pained to admit, we do not know how to control this catastrophe that has befallen us. So we call you."

Inlé punched his heart as he said, "Truly I am honored to serve you all. What is there to correct?"

"You see," said the goddess in the rightmost throne, "one of our ranks has died. Of itself, this is not unusual. Rensyd rules the flow of reincarnation that controls the cycle of life and death on this world. Because of this, he must regularly die himself and be reborn, that he experience this and understand better his subjects.

"But a few days ago, as he lay dying, a man approached him and somehow captured the soul of Rensyd at the moment of his death. That this ... method is used to prevent the reincarnation of an enemy or to preserve an ally that then may be returned to life instead of reincarnated was known to us. But we did not know that such a thing could work on one of we gods.

"Worse, the man consumed Rensyd's soul, taking on his powers, shirking his responsibilities, and, we fear, killing Rensyd ... forever."

The goddess beside her stirred then. "That we are capable of stopping this once-mortal, we are quite certain, understand. But he has some means of robbing us of our powers. With the powers of Rensyd added to him, we do not know what methods he may be capable of using to steal our powers."

The third goddess, seated between Masod and the central throne said, "What is more, as he does indeed possess the powers of Rensyd, merely to seal his soul away would not benefit us in any way. Mortals would still die, but none would be born. Eventually, all living things of this world would die."

Masod concluded the explanation, saying, "And killing him will do next to nothing, as he decides where and when he would be reborn. We would be forced to lie in wait for him as our world dies around us."

"So we come to you, Wanderer," the first god said. "Though it chagrins no few of our ranks that a mere mortal should save we gods from this danger, we--I--humbly beg your assistance in this."

The god rose, his splendrous robe shining like the sun, and approached the dais. He dropped to his knees before Inlé, saying, "Please, I beg you. Rensyd was--and is--my son. First of my children, and I love him still."

Inlé, impassive, looked down at the god at his feet. "Lord Namryd, please. It is not right for one such as yourself to beg. Please, stand. I am not worthy of this display."

Namryd rose, looking pleadingly at Inlé. He asked, "But you will help us?"

"As best I can, Lord," Inlé answered. "As best I can.

"May I assume he is in the city where I first arrived?"

"Yes," the first goddess answered. "Will you need anything from us for this confrontation?"

"I will. Be ready to grant me some small supports as I need them, please. I do not yet know what that need will be, nor if it truly will be needed. But if I am to need something, may I trust that you will supply me so long as it does not endanger you in the process?"

It was Masod who answered then, "And how will you send your requests? Or discern what will and will not endanger us?"

"Surely, Lord Masod," Inlé said, "you receive your prayers through the same channels as before, do you not?"

Masod stood angrily. "You insult me, mortal?"

Inlé punched his heart. "Not at all, Lord. I merely answer your question. If, Lords and Ladies, I need anything from any of you, you will find yourself in my prayers, so to speak."

A voice from the crowd called, "And how will you know who it is you need?"

Inlé turned to face the speaker, far from the center of the amphitheater. He answered, "I will know, Lord Phask, when I need to. But I will not know any sooner. That is the best I can explain.

"It is also," Inlé continued, turning back to face the thrones, "the way I will know whether my request would endanger you, Lord Masod."

Inlé shifted, his stance. "Now, if I may, I would like to get this first portion finished quickly. Lords and Ladies, I beg your pardon as I take my leave. I will return when I have recovered Lord Rensyd--in whatever form he may now be--or discern it an impossibility.

"I pray to see you all soon."

Inlé dropped down through the dais, disappearing from the amphitheater.

Masod growled. "I thought he said he couldn't jump place to place."

"Patience, Masod," Namryd said. "He spoke truly."

The god pointed to a shoulder-wide ring in the dais where the mortal had vanished. "It seems our mortal has some tools to at least make his job less difficult."

"Humph," Masod said. "The boy's still smug."