Tok's Letter
Tok's Letter is a blog post published on the old website, once found at this URL: http://projectgorgon.com/more-info/lore/toks-letter/. A copy of the post can be found Using the Wayback Machine.
Tok’s Letter [Raine,
The following captured document is twelve years old, predating the arrival of Destriel. It appears to be written to a demon general named Berelius, who is a warmonger that rules dozens of planes. Please study it carefully: it would be wonderful if we could count Berelius as an ally against Destriel. I pray this document holds a clue to doing so.
- Love, Raul. ]
From: Tok of the Eighth Pod, Master of Skulking To: Berelius, Queen of All Things, Benevolent Goddess of Light and Dark' Subject: Six Month Report
Indigenous Races
Your Highness, I still do not know why I was sent here. It is indeed a very magical place — one of the most magical I’ve ever heard of — but it’s a very backwater plane. The people here barely understand that there are other dimensions, and consider them all to be “evil”. Anyone from any another plane is called a “demon” and is shunned!
However, they are very bad at recognizing “demons”. I have taken up residence in a town called Fallowglade, and no one has yet seen through my expert disguise. In addition, our old friends the Rakshasa live here, pretending to be an indigenous race! Care should be taken not to alert the Rakshasa to our presence.
The true indigenous races are far less dangerous, and relatively similar. Each claims to be vastly superior to the other, but in truth I can barely tell the difference between most of them. Humans and elves are especially similar, as are goblins and orcs, and so on… but the people here have no trouble identifying all of these races — and even subtle sub-races — on sight.
They all share similar biology. Pathetically, they do not use egg sacks for reproduction at all. Instead they grow the larva within their own bodies. This severely restricts the number of offspring they can have per season. In a war of attrition, their pitifully small population would be ruined in just a few years.
“The Thirty-Seven”
Because of the ridiculous amount of magical energy here, there are 37 – THIRTY SEVEN! – well-known nature spirits, which are worshiped as “gods” by some of these backwater morons. It’s commonly believed that these spirits are fully sentient and can even take on physical forms, but I have never seen this, nor heard conclusive evidence that it even happens.
Each so-called “god” is associated with various natural phenomena. Many people believe the gods created the concepts they’re associated with, but that’s preposterous — to imagine that “Irhetsu, god of the wind” literally invented wind?!
But then consider “Norala, goddess of hunts”, who is supposedly responsible for the spread of a single magical disease: that sort of thing is more within the capacity we would expect of a nature spirit.
If our intention is to come here and strip this world of power, I cannot predict how dangerous these spirits will be. But I cannot imagine they would be more powerful than you, my queen! If they really can take physical form, perhaps we could subjugate them and peel away their magical essences, or enslave them and use them as weapons of war.
The Council
The continent of Alharth is vast — it’s so big that many peasants here think “Alharth” is the name of the whole world! A sizeable portion of Alharth is taken up by a country called “The Council Lands”.
The Council is a handful of wizards who seized power over a thousand years ago, and proceeded to create their version of paradise, which naturally involved a fair amount of genocide. After that, the land was apparently rather pleasant for a few centuries, but as is so typical of lower beings, they were soon plagued by petty infighting. Now the Council is completely in hiding. I’ve never met anyone who’s seen any of the remaining five council members.
At first I assumed the council was actually dead, but I’ve detected incredibly potent magic coming from the council grounds in Statehelm. Clearly there are very powerful wizards there. For instance, I’ve detected an interplanar rift of such magnitude that an entire army could have waltzed through it. With that power, we would easily take this world, and many more!
I have tried to infiltrate the council grounds, but your humble servant has proven incapable, and the entire sub-pod that accompanied me was regrettably incinerated. I humbly request some more troops, perhaps more resilient ones. Also, this lowly slave would be forever blessed by his Goddess should he be granted the use of one of Her Majesty’s Blades of Irrefutability. Please have it sent directly to me in Fallowglade.
In any case, the members of this Council are cowardly rulers, never seen. There are now many local tyrants who rule in the name of the Council. These tyrants generally make sure their people are fed and protected from enemies, but often demand high tolls in exchange.
“Crone Council”
When the Council Lands were formed, the existing populace was displaced into neighboring countries. But recently, some of the most powerful of these creatures are returning to reclaim their ancestral home now that the Council is in hiding. The most interesting of these groups is the so-called “Crone Council”.
Crones are another indigenous race with an apparently different standard of beauty. I can barely distinguish them from elves and humans and so on, but the other races consider them incredibly ugly. Because they are so simple-minded, these other races imagine all ugly creatures to be vicious, cruel, and manipulative. To be fair, that seems to be a reasonable stereotype for crones based on the few I’ve met. But just because you’re vicious doesn’t mean you aren’t right!
The crones have great power and a more nuanced understanding of the world. Their views could be made to align with ours. If we wanted to foster intra-world strife, supporting the crones would be a wise gamble.
However, a word of caution for any future envoys: do not consume raw meat in front of them. Your humble servant lost a tentacle due to this apparent faux pas.
Your lowly slave, Tok
