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Spectacles of a Prime Roots Dweller

The Greatest Power

Within the Abyss of Ichor, a tryker enjoys a dip in one of the deeper parts sap lake that adorns the center of the region, safe from any predators that like the taste of homin. His light armor of fyros design, now a set of black, not white, lays on one of the various islands inside the lake near a Jubla, along with his journal that lays open on a new page. It reads:

"Quarta, Pluvia 28, 3rd AC 2597

What makes the world tick, the thing that propells the events of hominkind? Is it the power of wealth, of money that drives the markets and trade? Is it the politics, the squabbles and disagreements of the higher ups in nations and factions? Is it the cults and their deities and ideologies that drive homins forward in their name? Is it the raw, crude, and cruel power of magic and war? Is it the power of Atys' nature, the aggressive fauna, the goo, and the desire to protect oneself from it? Or perhaps is it a combination of all of these things; a knot of power forever intertwined in entropy.

Or are those things the puppet of a power much more subtle, such as the lack of consideration for consequences of our own actions. The smallest push or touch, the right homin in the right place, can send a ripple through life and manipulate the events to come for generations. We need only to look at the First Great Swarming, and those who caused it; altering the path of hominkind for a long time with conflict being created much farther down in history. In the end, it will not matter. Life, Atys, goes on, and the historians and philosophers will sort out the pieces of an unending puzzle. Perhaps the greatest power, is not the trivial things, but our ability to learn from our mistakes so we may send the right ripple through life and bring prosperity for our descendents."

The tryker gets out of the lake and beings the process of putting his armor back on. After a little time, with the bark making the usual creeking sounds and the sound of a roar of a dragon echoing, or whatever it is, he picks up his journal and, with a smile of amusement on his face, remarks:

"Or perhaps it's the soothing desire of a nice soak."

He then closes the journal and teleports away, to another place on Atys.
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