Genesis of Al-Mithalun - The Echo of Kalak

The world creation of "Al-Mithalun", a fantasy world setting inspired by Central Arabian myths, folklore, and lost legends of old.


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0. The Genesis Echo of Kalak:

Space and time were formed on the undulating vibration of... and echo. 

The waves of a faraway shout formed our cosmos in a celestial symphony.

The genesis of  our world, of "Al Mithalun" unfolded with a whispered echo that rung within the vast expanse of space - unfolding the stages of creation within the universe. 

This ethereal resonance was known as the "Echo of Kalak." 

The origin of this echo is said to have formed from the final roar of man standing at the precipice of time's end. The sound of this climactic shout signaled not only the end of times - but formed the womb of a new world once again. A circular loop of time where the end of the universe is also the seed of its own creation.

This cosmic event intricately wove the fabric of Al Mithalun into the tapestry of fate, destiny, and the cyclical nature of the universe. It formed a circular loop where the end of one cosmic era seamlessly gave rise to the inception of another. The Echo of Kalak, a testament to the interconnectedness of all things, whispered the intricate destinies that would weave through the beings destined to inhabit Al Mithalun. Its reverberation felt by all who use the magic of the cosmos, or of those connected with the earth. 

This cyclical echo bound together every soul, from celestial beings to mortals and immortals, in an eternal dance of destiny. 

The identity of the enigmatic figure who uttered the last shout at the edge of time remains shrouded in mystery, forever referred to as the Dhul Akar. This unknown individual serves as an enduring reminder that the roar of the end of times will come one day, any day. Is it when the echo is at its weakest? When is slows to low hum? Or will it strike us at any given day.  

Kitāb Gharāʼib al-funūn wa-mulaḥ al-ʻuyūn (The Book of Curiosities of the Sciences and Marvels for the Eyes). Creator unknown. 13th-century copy. Egypt. Oxford, Bodleian Library MS. Arab. c. 90: fols. 2b-3a; 23b-24a

The echo cascaded in the following chronological stages of creation:

1. The Breath of Hayy:

Hayy, the Breath of Creation, stirred within the void of Kalak's echo. With a single exhalation, the breath took form, shaping the vastness of the universe, celestial bodies formed as the stars arranged themselves in the cosmic canvas.

Celestial bodies like Al-Haamil, the Forger of Forms, Al-Aasima, the Celestial Enchanter, and Al-Nazira, the Plane Weaver, took their place in the astral ballet, crafting the vastness of the universe. Many other celestial bodies also emerged from the shapes of the stars. 

2. The Sands of Ard:

Ard, the Sands of Origin, cradled the nascent realm. As the celestial fingers of Al-Haamil caressed the sands, landscapes took shape. From the sands of the great deserts and the clay of the earth, he sculpted the rise of Mountains, the dips of valleys, and the deserts and oases between them. The Sands of Ard formed the canvas upon which the divine drama of existence would unfold.

3. The Song of Mu'athir:

Al-Mu'athir, the Song of Influence, resonated through the air of the echo's wake. It carried the whispers of Al-Aasima, who infused the elements of nature with celestial magic. The melody breathed life into the forms crafted by Al-Haamil, and the land became vibrant with the harmonies of existence. 

4. The Veil of Ikhfa':

Ikhfa', the Veils of Concealment, was expertly woven by Al-Nazira, the Weaver of Planes. Utilizing threads of starlight, she created an ethereal curtain between realms. Behind these ethereal curtains, different realms and planes take shape. One of the first other realms was Aksara, the shadowed realm of reflection and spirits. Al-Mithalun and Aksara danced in a mirrored waltz, each influencing the other, yet forever apart. Portals between realms were created as tears upon the veil, corrupting the celestial touch through black magic sorcery. These tears were created by those wielding the black magic of the Great Silence, the Sumt.

5. The Embrace of Yah-tan:

Yah-tan, the Embrace of Evolution, enveloped Al-Mithalun. This divine passage of time and natural selection gave rise to the emergence of races. From the powerful race of Man to the nimble Nimr, the resilient Sahlashira, and the lesser races of Rukh, Maa'in, and Rimadunn, each became a unique testament to the challenges and embrace Al-Mithalun held for the creations of the Echo.

6. The Journey of Ma-Saar:

Ma-Saar, the Journey of Destiny, called upon all inhabitants of Al Mithalun to embark on their unique life journeys. It urged them to create meaning and value for their own souls and find their place in the celestial tapestry. The unknown end of times loomed above, emphasizing the importance of seeking and discovering one's destiny in the finite time given.

7. The Balance of Sumt:

Sumt, the Balance of Great Silence, hung between the reverberation of the Echo of Kalak and the creation of Al-Mithalun. This silence, an annulment to celestial power, maintained equilibrium in the universe. Those who sought to disrupt this balance called upon the Great Silence, invoking black magic practices to defy the established laws of man and celestials.

8. The Spirits of Aksara (and other realms):

Through the Veil of Ikhfa', the realm of Aksara was imbued with the means to host the spirit realm and the realm of Jinn and other lesser deities. Born of the contrary nature of realms, the Jinn traversed between Al-Mithalun and Aksara, embodying the harmonious contradiction that bound the two worlds. Jinn could be either good or bad, or neutral in the affairs of Al Mithalun. Some would work and partner with those calling upon black magic and help them with their bidding, for a price, adding layers of mystery and intrigue to the cosmic narrative.

Neslihan Gülbahar Ekinci, 2021

The Book of Fixed Stars. Book by Abd al-Rahman al-Sufi (Azophi). 10th Century.

Zarqa Al Yamama (زرقاء اليمامة) - Oracle of the Sands and the Blue Eyed Dove

Spin off on Zarqa Al Yamama being an oracle/soothsayer. Not just gifted with far sight and precision, as her tale goes.

This rendition of the character is presented in many forms - for her homeland, which was conquered and destroyed, used to house the most vast array of exotic birds of the desert and the oasis. Yamama meaning Dove, and Zarqa pertaining to her unique blue eyes.  Now, she provides refuge for these birds in her cave and travels alongside them in her caravan, accompanied by a devoted entourage. These avian companions possess the keenest of blue eyes, serving as her invaluable wellspring of knowledge regarding the sprawling desert landscape encompassing her hideaway. Her own eyes are fashioned from pure lapis stones, a gift acquired through her mother's consumption of these raw gems while bearing her child, bestowing upon her mystical abilities beyond the mortal realm.

Zarqa now traverses the unforgiving sands, a spectral echo of the person she once was, prior to her homeland's tragic downfall. Nevertheless, her spirit perseveres, and she continues to share her prophecies with those who can seek her out and are willing to pay her in chests brimming with pure lapis lazuli.

Many seek her guidance, but tales frequently lead them astray, toward charlatans posing as Zarqa or deceitful fortune-tellers preying on the gullible. Discovering her true whereabouts demands time and unwavering determination, as seekers navigate a labyrinth of secrets and their origins, traversing the spaces between cities and canyons. Their quest is driven by the desire to hear their own fortune, their prophecy, and their ultimate destiny.

The fragment presented here is part of a merchant's diary, discovered amidst the ruins of an archaeological site. It's the relic of an ancient city that endured a great, as-yet-unknown calamity.

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Annalynn Hammond, "Soothsayer" and "Strange Bird" - edited myself for the post.

The precise moment of our meeting remains veiled in the mists of time. The memories blur and coalesce, manifesting vividly in my dreams, as if I had but moments ago gazed into her eyes upon awakening. 

Those eyes, by the gods, those eyes! They were pure lapis lazuli stones, meticulously carved into perfectly round irises that graced her visage. The way those stones turned, ever so slowly, left to right, seven times, tracing the contours of my face as if dissecting my very soul. I swear I could hear the grinding of those stones within their leathery sockets, and the flapping of a hundred wings as birds of every color perch above us. The birds of Al Yamama. The Oracle, Zarqa.

These memories of her, of it, are inescapable. Nor can I escape the fateful words she uttered, the revelation of the very day when I shall meet my ultimate demise. Not just my own, no. A demise awaiting us all. All us fools.

I am certain that a mere glance into this diary will allow me to recollect the day when I set forth in pursuit of her. That day that I embarked with a hired caravan of camels and nomads who claimed to have traded with her devotees deep in the desert. 

 

Sepulchral cave of the Djebel necropolis. Syria, Syrian Arab Republic. Middle East, Old 19th century engraved illustration, Le Tour du Monde 1863. 

Indeed, traveling with these nomadic guides was a prudent choice, for without their expertise, my return to the city would have been nigh impossible in the state I found myself after encountering her. But it was because of their knowledge of the sands that we found her, and because of them that I am now in unyielding desperation! However, I cannot condemn my guides, for they provided me with exactly what I asked for. For she was the very enigma I had sought amidst those vast, unending dunes. I compensated them handsomely, for coin now holds little value in my eyes. What use do I have for my vast riches when our end is set to be for tomorrow at dusk? It is tomorrow, is it not? The eve of the 11th day of the 11th month, as she foretold.

I wish I could doubt her, to dismiss her as a mere fraud, another charlatan among the countless I've encountered on my journey across the continent. But Zarka, she was truth incarnate, the genuine oracle of Yamamah. Once a mere myth, she stood before me as a living reality, an encounter that has sealed my fate. All of our fates.

My quest had been arduous, my desperation had led me to cheap soothsayers and fraudulent fortune-tellers, who spun naught but tales of deception and guesswork. I traveled across distant lands, seeking solace and answers, until I heard of the fabled location of Zarka Al Yamama. The very name reverberated like an incantation, an echo of ancient whispers and a myth long forgotten. "Has she truly returned?" I remember asking myself. Yes, she has indeed. And it was not only my fate that she sealed that night, deep in her cave of feathers in the sandstone mountain. But the fate of all man that lives and breathes upon these sands, a looming darkness that will turn this realm on its axis. 

I was a gullible, eager supplicant, all too willing to pay the oracle in my weight in lapis lazuli to finally pose the question that had driven me across vast lands. In the face of this ominous prophecy, the question that had once driven me felt trivial and fleeting, as insubstantial as the shifting desert sands. The cosmic mysteries that had once beckoned me now seemed pale and distant compared to the inexorable journey toward my own fate, and the fate of these lands. 

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More on Zarqa later, on her lore, her character and her abilities in detail so she may be of use in different settings and campaigns.

"Jinn" - Delving into the Background of a Playable Jinn Race, the Shadowed Ones

An excerpt taken from a fragmentary journal of an apprentice alchemist from the city of Ambar. The journal was found abandoned along the East- West trade route. Pages torn.

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3192.4 Thul 

Hearing stories about Jinn has always vexed me. I was always told two kinds of tales about Jinn. The first being the ones that were typical of the ghost story experience, ones where beings called "jinn" are dark ghost-like entities that haunt and linger in abandoned places or areas plagued by death. These stories were the ones whispered to children to keep them in line, to ward them away from mischief or dare them to venture into desolate buildings during moonless nights. These tales were intriguing, for a while, as they were the same age-old ghost stories that provoked shivers down the spine, promising a night of uneasy sleep. Ones I've heard across the world during my travels.

Amjad Ghannam, 1.32 Meter Square. 2014

However, it was the second kind of stories that stuck with me, burrowing deep into my consciousness. These were the stories that made me glance over my shoulder in the daytime, linger over my reflection in the mirror for seconds longer, rethink the fleeting shadows that danced at the periphery of my vision, and pause at the cool brush of air along my arm in a crowded market. These narratives weren't spun as mere stories; they were recounted to me by figures of trust - scholars, parents, those who bore the weight of experience. These were the stories of the Jinn, the ones that coexist with us in a reality that transcends our perception, not of the material plane, but of a shadow realm that mirrors our own.

 Bibi Zogbe, Moonlight. 1940s. Barjeel Foundation

In mythology and faith, the true nature of the Jinn was unveiled by the teachers who spoke not of hauntings but of parallel existence, of beings who exist as a reflection of our own world and can manipulate their own shape. The fathers who consoled our childhood fears whispered that Jinn aren't creatures to dread, but entities that seek peace, indifference, and in some cases, protection. These narratives illuminated the realm of the Jinn, a realm that was not meant to haunt mortals but to occupy its own sphere, a spiritual plane intertwined with ours, like two layers of existence stacked one on top of the other. Or, perhaps, one up right and the other upside down. It's a world where, much like humans, Jinn exhibit both virtue and vice. There are virtuous Jinn, seeking to guard and live in peace, and then there are those Jinn who wander the darker paths, capable of causing harm through the arcane channels of forbidden sorcery and black magic, some that work in tandem with humans who work in the dark arts. What these Jinn could do, I was too afraid to ask those many years ago. However, my curiosity is getting the better of me these days, and this path seems too alluring not to prod further. With caution of course. 

I was told once that some Jinn have chosen to live within our mortal realm - but the lands and cities they inhabit lie deep in the grey dunes and dry ashen planes beyond the western mountains. Far beyond the clusters of mortal civilization. It is in these faraway lands that Jinn can be seen, spoken to, touched. Where their society settles in shadow and dust. I knew of a man who met a Jinn once. I can't recall his name. Traded with him, he said. Traded silk for shadow, he said. 

Remedios Varo, The Opposite Shadow / Shadow Man. 1963

During my studies and work at the archives, I learned that within their shadowed realm, the Jinn, too, have their own spectrum of beliefs. Just as the mortal world, there are believers and faithful Jinn, standing alongside infidels and treacherous beings. The nature of their devotion or rebellion remains a mystery to me, yet to be unraveled * - perhaps an ancient monarch of immense power or a lesser deity from the times of old watches over this enigmatic realm. These tales of the Jinn, which dance between myth and reality, unveil a realm beyond the superficial narratives of spooks and specters. It's a reality where the distinction between our world and theirs blurs, and the Jinn, as both protectors and mischief-makers, weave an intricate tapestry that speaks of an interconnectedness between our two worlds. 

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More to come on their kind, the shadow/spirit realm that mirrors our own, and the human-kind who deal with the workings of Jinn. 

*Not to get religious - purely thinking about all this from a mythological, fantasy roleplaying, and speculative fictional standpoint and not within the realm of religion or Islam or any other belief system. 

Al Ghoul الغول (The Ghoul) - Full Cycle Ghoul (Desert Variety)

A concept of a fully undead desert ghoul that I wanted to jot down. Perhaps something to be added upon later. Based on existing literature, blogs, and media on ghouls + my own little spice.

 Paul Gaudin, Al'Ula and Hegra, 1907  

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(The desert wind, she howls)

"Have the dunes shifted again, my friend?"

"Did you lose your path in the storm?" "Do you now you wander in unmarked sands?"

Be wary, my lost one - for it seems you have now entered a forsaken battleground of old, where gemstone tombs and unmarked graves lay hidden in the sands. 

The sand in the air had not yet settled from the storm. It flurries through the air in a dim haze. You squint to see the sun had nestled in the distant horizon, between faraway dunes that cradle their yolk. You pause to reorient yourself, resting on a square stone jutting from the earth. Then you notice it. Just ahead and all around you - the wind had parted the sands, bringing to the surface a mass of unmarked stones arranged in a near perfect grid. Gravestones. 

By some trick of the eye, you  catch a roving form in the dimness. A hooded figure. They sway and lurk close to the ground, moving between the stones. Searching and sifting through dry bones. Through the howling winds their voice breaks through - a gurgling, a whispering, a mewling. Tattered robes hang off a thin-flesh grey form. It moves closer, seeking any morsel of flesh, a drop of blood. 

Tales of Mystery and Imagination. Illustrated by Harry Clarke. G. G. Harrap & Co.: London, 1919

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Ghouls are not some simple graveyard spawn, but they can be. There are many ways to end up as a ghoul - there are a spectrum of ghouls, really. 

The one I describe above is probably at the far end of the spectrum, a depraved full-scale graveyard dweller who recalls very little from their past life but feelings of rage, sorrow, and desire - and an unquenchable hunger for flesh. At this end of the spectrum, they are almost zombie-like. What differentiates zombies from ghouls is, of course, their way of becoming. More on this differentiation later.

But desert graveyards are a peculiar thing for ghouls, they seek them out but come to find they are hidden deep in shifting dunes, or the bodies have migrated or dissolved with the sand. It takes a very desperate ghoul to wander off into the empty quarters of the dessert to find a fix. They are usually the type to also get lost and swallowed by the dunes, coming up for air when they smell fresh meat and hear the thumps of moving bodies above. These ghouls have lost all sense of societal mind and could no longer survive living in society. 

Some of these ghouls find luck in scavenging mummified graves and tombs (desert mausoleums), or prey on the lost and wandering traveler who doesn't know well enough not to enter desert graveyards unprepared.

Not to be compared to the ghouls who are masters of their desire and obsession, the ones who blend into society - perhaps as the aristocrat or the street rat - the ones who keep their flesh eating tendencies secret. Also not to be compared with the ghoul lords, who have embraced the power of the flesh and grow fat from eating a variety of corpses and flesh. 

'The Romance of the River Plate', Vol. I, by W. H. Koebel, 1914 (engraving)

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Roving through these parts can lead to dangerous encounters indeed. A graveyard spawn, the undead ghoul is no mundane fiend, nor a spicy stand-in for your skeletal encounters. With some old school sensibilities, the ghoul can be added into a game in many ways:

Encountering the Ghoul. The ghoul can be found in these places: 

• Old Battlegrounds in the Desert: Where the remnants of ancient warriors lie hidden beneath the ever-shifting sands, an eerie magnet for the presence of malevolent ghouls, drawn to the echoes of past conflicts.
• Decrepit Crypts, Tombs and Mausoleums: Tombs and burial homes carved into the rugged sides of stone mountains. These resting places house many families and buried remains. Those wealthy and determined enough not be violated in their eternal sleep will find themselves in steel and ironclad coffins and sarcophagi. 
• City Graveyards: City guards and graveyard workers find themselves busy on many nights fending off a rogue ghoul who has wandered into the city and made their way to the graveyard to pick off remains. 
• Abandoned Underground Tunnel Systems: Used in times of violent storms or war, these intricate networks of underground tunnels now serve as eerie haunts for undead ghouls. Lost travelers or intrepid explorers may stumble upon these dark passages, only to encounter the ravenous hunger of lurking ghouls.
• Ghoul nests in Caves and Underground: Foul nests of undead ghouls accumulate in hidden nooks of the terrain, in caves outside cities, or within emptied rooms of a tomb. Accumulating a nest of bones and poor souls. 

Photograph of the Egyptian landscape monuments and archaeological sites. Taken in 1858. Title of Work: Égypte et Nubie. British Library

Some moves and vibes:

• Little Feast: a bite from a ghoul not only causes physical damage (d4) but the taste of flesh on their tongue enhances their other senses, abilities, speed, and articulation. Taking 1 permanent point away from strength, dexterity, or wisdom away from the victim. This point can only be returned if the player eats/takes a bite of the ghoul's flesh who caused this. Temporarily leading the player on a path to becoming a ghoul, where an obsession and hunger for flesh, blood, and the power it holds takes over. 
• Life Blood: A bit that sucks the blood and vitae from their victims, stealing their life blood (d4) and taking it for themselves. 

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More kinds of ghouls next. Maybe some fancy aristocratic ghouls. Or other beasts idk.