In the spirit of the comic, I'd like to introduce the Glyphosphere, a way for you to submit content and get it featured on the main page. Here's how it works:
Write and submit a passage or proverb. (It can be humorous, sad, or serious. Anything goes!)
Vote on your favorite submissions. The best writeups will go into a list.
Random passages from the list will be featured on the main page.
That's it! If you're selected, I can write you down as an anonymous user, otherwise your name will be featured along with the submission.
If the nature of God escapes you, consider this lesson.
The god of spoken word once convened with a wise king to advise him. Believing himself clever, the god brought three gifts and attempted to make a fool of the king. Handing the king a bronze vase, he claimed to offer the gift of meaning, but the container was itself empty. The puzzled king set aside the vase and was offered a resplendent, glowing gem.
"The gift of power," said the god. Having been fooled once, the king reached out warily to possess it. But upon his touch the gem became dust and was no more. The king sighed in contemplation and the god of spoken word offered the last of his gifts.
"To know the power of language is to understand that which is YISUN," smiled the god mischievously. "Open your palm so that I may offer you the gift of knowledge."
As the king revealed his palm, the god of spoken word procured a simple feather and placed it in the hand of the king. Yet so light was this feather it would not rest, and the smallest movement of his hand was enough to send it airborne, beyond his reach. The king's servants too attempted to grasp the feather, but their breath and the clamor of their footsteps were enough to deliver it far beyond the castle walls.
The king sat in silence while the god roared with laughter.
"You offer meaning, but the spoken word is itself meaningless," said the king.
"What?" The god collected himself and the king continued.
"I now see your gifts were merely a lesson disguised."
The god then turned sheepish and it was he who looked confused.
"The spoken word creates meaning but is itself meaningless. A man's word is hollow, but it is also the ultimate power. To speak is to convey knowledge, but knowledge is only so useful as to reveal things beyond our grasp."
The king gazed intently into the face of the disappointed god and said, "To know the power of language is to understand that which is YISUN. But I was not expecting you of all people."
Where the god of spoken word once stood, he now shone with a brightness that threatened to blind the king, but he and the servants were unharmed. "Well done, my child," said the fatherly voice of YISUN, twiddling with a feather.
Test of the Journeyman Knight : Interviews with the Master before commencement of Ordeals and Quests in the Wider Worlds.
Though it would take years of searching, chance discovery of an obscure map, the granting of a great boon, or a confounding intervention by the fates, one might learn of a remote fortress, where a certain Knight Order trained and prepared to face the Worlds.
The Order’s privacy was assured due to an unpredictable vermillion sea, trackless wastes, treacherous moors, a forest of lurking death, and fell beasts. These obstacles filled the horizon beyond the powerfully warded menhirs marking the Domains of the Knight Order
Having concluded the Apprentice training, and advancing to the Master’s satisfaction, the new Journeyman ( not yet Knight ) was granted an extended interview with the Master before venturing into the Wider Worlds. The Master invited the Journeyman to ask extensively of whatever matters he wondered of, and to gain insight from her own extensive experiences.
“Tonight you will dine with me, you will ask your many questions, and I will offer such guidance as I can. Ask now - for I will not be present when you face the many perils of the wider worlds. After this eve, we will celebrate your last day with the Brethren. Then you will keep the Solitary Vigil from dusk to the dawn. Your Ordeals and Quest may begin when you conclude the Vigil and set out upon the road.”
The Master and the Journeyman conversed long into the night in the Vigil Temple. A circle of ljustaken illuminated the space, wherein the two reposed besides a sunken hearth.
An owl paused in her hunting to eavesdrop and overheard these remarks.
“….and so, O’ Journeyman - be MOST WARY of the Demi-Urges. For to face them is to be as a match before a Tempest. Know that with those - one has but few choices: Avoidance, Service, or Annihilation. Resistance is POSSIBLE, but only from a great distance. I urge you to avoid entering into conflict with such.
Some of the Demi-Urges were reportedly killed by stealth. Are we Assassins ?"
"We are of the Knight Order O' Master" - affirmed the Journeyman.
"Indeed we are" replied the Knight Master.
"What do you prove if you attempt to cut a Hurricane, smash an Earthquake, or strike down a Tidal Wave ? Of those who made the attempts, not even the smoke of their annihilated flesh can be found.”
The Journeyman upon hearing this impulsively asked, “Oh Master, what must it be like to carry the power of a god in one’s own flesh ?”
For several moments only the flames from the fire could be heard.
Then the Master shook her head and replied, “WHICH God ?”
“A Vision of the Game of Kings”
As Scribe in the service of the Geas Knights, it be my duty to record the Deeds, the Histories, the feats of our Order. We scribes also serve as instructors to the youths aspiring to join the Order and we teach them to learn numbers, physic, natural and unnatural laws, and methods to reason, and of perception. How our Order came to be, and why we have so much to seek in the broken worlds is a mystery confined to those within the Order.
Returning from a pilgrimage to the Temple of Het, our caravan was beset by the floating anemone which mark the Great Moor as their territory. As we sought to repel the beasts several of us were stung and fell ill due to the hallucinogenic toxins for which the anemones are rightly feared. My brethren gathered the wounded and hastened us away and on through the Forest of Lurking Death. Terrors and lurid visions crowded through the minds of the afflicted yet we were fortunate and at last emerged from the perilous forest and passed the ancient menhirs which mark the domains of our Order. There, my condition was attended to. Fevers gripped me, my bones ached, and visions both true and false appeared to me.
In my feverish dreams, I was granted I believe a true vision of the Game of Kings.
By whose mind the concept for the Game and the immense Contest Field came to be I cannot tell.
Those unknown builders of Yre may have gained their fame with this edifice.
Revealed to me was that a great Contest Field was built in the days prior to that Conflagration to be known as the Universal War.
For after the time of great works, great thought, and great achievements, great dissension arose amongst those godling lords who’d breached the seat of creation.
One or more inspired minds devised, commissioned and built the Contest Field. The rules of the Contests was also decreed. The known options were: sparring, team competition, races, duels, and combats to the death. If overmatched, a lord could seek escape by rushing for the exit far above - but such was the humiliation one would bear it is believed that most lords preferred to die than endure perpetual shame.
It was hoped then that such Games could provide an outlet, a release for these mighty lords to unleash their powers and vent their anger over the countless slights and offenses real or imagined which accumulated between them over centuries.
One must have the power of the lords to awaken the Contest Field. One must declare who is contesting, and the game to be played. Once the playing field is entered, walls arise upon every side. The field climbs on into the heavens, and those empowered lords of rule must use their powers to climb the heights.
Octagons six spans across cover all surfaces. A lord must hurl herself upward, then exert her power to fasten upon an area. As one lands, a ferocious blow may be struck which amplifies the power outwards in a wave capable of obliterating nearby rivals. These walls cannot be breached from within as by the magic of their construction, such forces are redirected to one side.
Though the Contest Field saw more and more use, the number of fatal contests mounted ever higher. Instead of helping to keep the peace, the godlings grew more and more brazen in challenging each other, until the first fatal challenges were issued in the very Court of Rule - the Halls of Concordance, thereby unleashing the Universal War.
This was my vision as I received it.
Scribe to the Geas Knights.
What do you think?