Lord

"Won't you show the appropriate reverence in return?" Asks the bird. "To a loyal servant of the Lords Below?"

All native things in this Forest bear at least this signature: Something like "Treasured possession of the Lords and Makers of the World."

"Which Lord is the third Lord?" The Drifting Star asks. "There were once many, many Lords and Makers. I can't even remember them all!"

Resonant, subaural melodies in its words tickle Gere's wolf ears.

"Though, congregant followed by the cold wind, you should remember - the Lords and Makers have no names, only titles. "Names carry with them danger and the potential of remaking."

Keryth bows their head. "I have died many times, and will die many more. Each life is an endeavor to remember past lives and make the current life memorable to all those that follow."

"Perhaps I envy you. I hope you have not suffered deaths too painful over the ages." The Liarbird replies.

"The Lords Below were immortal too, I heard. Until they all died forever."

The Salamander will tell you this.

If you walk through the Garden path that leads off the Crossroads, you'll come to a place lit with sun - this is the Garden.

If you travel deep into the Garden, you'll eventually find one of the Lords Below.

"The Liarbird told me of some beings called 'the Lords Below'. The birds worship them as the creators of the Forest.

"What do you think that is, Pilgrim?"

"A holy site to the Lords Below. The makers of this place." It replies. "I am the Pilgrim because I spend my time searching for them. To pay my respects."

"Huh." He is surprised by the straightforwardness and logic of the name. "How do you pay your respects?"

"Solemn contemplation, at first. I would sleep on the stone they cut, or the relics they left behind. Hoping for insight. But no one is left to really guide us in how to truly honor them. So I've gone out searching."

The Pilgrim yawns. "This far deep, I don't mind sharing with you. The true goal of this expedition is to find one of the Lords Below. Few creatures from the place your kind call the Forest have made it this far deep.

"But we will need to go deeper to find them."

Ethelinda addresses the party. "We have our choice now - try to find a way out , or try to continue deeper, in search of one of the Lords Below . My plan is to try to open communications with them and negotiate for some boon or power."

Ethelinda smiles sweetly at Violet.

"A little secret, my dear Violet. I was told of the Lords Below of this place by someone from the Forest. The same Forest where you got your changes. They told me that power over it could be ours - if we got permission from the Forest's masters. What approaches - is almost certainly one such master.

"Think of the power that can be ours, as long as we do not fear to reach out and take it!"

"Dead or dying is not something that works well to describe the Lords Below." The Younger Daughter replies.

"They can be broken. They can become lesser. They can be reduced to impotent shards and echoes, entombed, dissipated in Nothing.

"They are incarnate power and essence, and that clings to the world even when they are mortally injured."

"There is something I can tell you that is not dangerous." The Aurochs relents slowly. This sigil is of a certain group of the Lords and Makers of the world. The things bound closely to them bear it.

"I do not believe any Lords and Makers alive do not share this mark. And they use it to mark what they own. This sigil is of great power, and is greatest as you near the edges of the world, where things break down and you can see its imprint writ on the world. Finally, and most importantly, the mark grows on its own. By its own choice."

"There is power in names. That is why I choose not to name it. And I try to avoid describing it." The Aurochs finishes. Even the word I use, 'sigil' is a lie compared to the truth of what the thing you ask me about truly is."

*"I am one of the less substantial Watchers appointed by the Lords and Makers to watch this humble grave of one of their dearly beloved."*

*"The Lords and Makers of this realm are all dead or insane."*

*"The dead ones, like the Evening Glory, whose grave I watch, are the lucky ones."*

"*I think you might have found wisdom then.*" The Lesser Watcher states.

"*In the Garden there is neither good nor evil, only allegiance to the ideals of beauty you chose to uphold.*"

"*Even the Lords and Makers themselves were not uniform in this.*"