Cosmoglot
Voice of the gods
At what other time has man ever been able to claim a literal correspondence with God?
Jayli Suricha, Lokkan scout, 1485 AoE
T
he cosmoglot is a putative communication device that fell into the western waters of the Moonlak in Asjaria in 1452 AoE. Given the primitive nature of casterway technology, the device was always far beyond the understanding of the Sontsu who possessed it for nearly a thousand years. It was similarly confounding to the many foreign cognoscenti who made numerous pilgrimages to witness the machine and to analyze its workings. The historical record leaves little doubt that the machine emanated voices - voices speaking in foreign accents and, at times, entirely unknown dialects. Many devotees swore that it was a two-way communication device - and many tales are recorded of people claiming to have spoken "to" the machine, and to have received real-time replies. However, there was never any solid proof that the people on the other end were ever hearing the words of the casterway speakers. There is even greater debate as to whether any of the voices heard through the machine were ever actually responding to the casterways' messages.
Asjarian Ownership
After its discovery, the cosmoglot was originally housed in the basement of the royal palace in the capital city of Asjar. It remained in this location, as a fabled but closely-guarded national treasure, for more than two centuries. After the Sack of Asjar by Rinenmaan forces in 1659 AoE, the conquerors seized the device as their own. It quickly became a centerpiece of national pride for the Rinenmaans. In 1674 AoE, they built the Elysium Tower, on the island of Heaven's Door, in the middle of the Everlak. While this tower would eventually become the epicenter of a broader cult, its primary purpose was solely to house (and to protect) the cosmoglot.
Rinenmaan Control
The device remained hidden in the Elysium Tower's walls for centuries. It was a closely-guarded state treasure, and one which the Rinenmaans leveraged as an effective bargaining chip with foreign pilgrims, cognoscenti, dignitaries, and rulers who had an endless fount of curiosity about the device. But the cosmoglot would not remain on Heaven's Door forever. In 2407 AoR, in an act that will forever be cloaked in infamy for the Rinenmaans, the cosmoglot, quite literally, disappeared. Despite a longstanding and exhaustive nationwide effort, the truth has never been uncovered as to who stole the device, where it was taken, or where it resides today (if anywhere). So complete was the theft that there was never a single suspect identified. A handful of Tower stooges were subsequently executed for dereliction of duty, but no serious researcher has ever implied that these "guilty" souls had any active part in the disappearance of the device. Many ongoing legends hint of the cosmoglot's current location, but none of these fanciful tales has ever been substantiated in any way.
Disappearance
The cosmoglot's disappearance is not just a mystery for the Rinenmaans. Nor is it seen as a tragedy merely amongst the Sontsu. Like Cervia Polonosa's fabled helioskimmer millennia before, many modern cognoscenti have bemoaned the lost opportunity for technological advancement that they presume would occur if the cosmoglot were to ever be recovered. Even if the device has decayed to become nothing but a dysfunctional heap of metal and circuits, modern scholars presume that great leaps of knowledge could be achieved if only they could get their hands on the device. But alas, there has not been a credible, in-person account of the cosmoglot, or its whereabouts, in thousands of years.Historical Basis
F
unita Tamenori was a Rinenmaan fisherman who had grown frustrated by the diminishing yields available on the Moonlak's eastern shores. It was well known that bountiful schools of scutterfish could still be caught on the lake's western shores - fishing territory that belonged to Asjaria and Asjarian citizens. So, in violation of established treaties, he had made a regular (and profitable) habit of sailing across the Moonlak to ply the richer waters of the western shores. Given the lax enforcement in play during these ancient times, he might well have continued his productive endeavor for many years to come. (Indeed, he was far from the only Rinenmaan making clandestine forays into Asjarian territorial waters.) But his fortunes took a turn when, during one late night in 1452 AoE, a fiery asteroid streaked across the predawn sky and crashed into the Moonlak. Although the satellite did not strike his ship directly, it came close enough to capsize his vessel in the resulting tidal wave generated from the impact site.
Throughout history, no single accident has been more responsible for the death of thousands, or the generational hatred of millions, than the fact that Funita's damn fishing net was somehow strong enough to snag that godforsaken cosmoglot.
Takeya Nakasane, Rinenmaan healer, 3019 AoG
Dragged Ashore
When dawn broke, local Asjarians were flummoxed by the sight of the haggard Funita, clinging to his skiff and slowly floating westward toward the foreign shore. At first, they mobilized simply to rescue Funita and his waterlogged ship. As he was towed closer in toward shore, a bustle began to grow when they realized that something fantastic had managed to become snarled in one of his nets. Had that "something" simply sunk to the lake bed, it probably would have taken Funita and his skiff with it. But the now-cooled asteroid was oddly buoyant (most likely, saving Funita's life in the process). The buoyant object initially looked like any other celestial object - rough, rock-like, jagged. But it was notable for its generally-spherical shape.
More Than a Meteor
When it was first dragged ashore, the object was still warm to the touch, roughly three meters in diameter. Amongst a growing crowd of curious onlookers, the asteroid continued to cool and, eventually, cracked - almost like an egg. With the object securely salvaged on dry land, the crack eventually widened to a point where anyone close enough could actually peer inside. What they found within the shell was unlike anything casterways had witnessed before - or since. The shell revealed an object that seemed to be essentially unharmed - an object that was eventually named: the cosmoglot.
Ownership Scramble
A furor arose over the object that lasted for several days. Funita could scarcely claim legal ownership, since he didn't technically have the right to be in these waters in the first place. In fact, most cognoscenti believe that he never laid eyes on the object again. Many of the local villagers made specious claims to its ownership, boasting that their role in saving Funita gave them legal right to the bounty in tow. But the bustle generated from the find was too great for the villagers' own good, and within a month, the local authorities seized the device and transported it to the capital city of Asjar.
Strange Technology
It didn't take local cognoscenti long to realize that the cosmoglot was no ordinary meteor. It was clearly engineered - packed with a manufactured device that exceeded any known technology on Excilior. But the device's true functionality eluded most researchers for nearly two months. It consisted of a glass-like tube, nearly two meters in height. Numerous forms of indecipherable instrumentation were embedded inside the tube. It was capped on one end with a fabulously-sturdy metal. At the other end, it was set in a base made from the same material, such that it was apparently designed to be sat upright. The base featured many metal tubes and wires which extended into the glass-like enclosure. Two "feet" extended from the base, each about a half meter in length.
Karuna Kharkanis
Access to the mysterious device was closely guarded. Only the most trusted researchers, and the most respected dignitaries, were allowed to see it. And fewer still were allowed to touch it. (Some of this caution was practical - for the early Sontsu could not say for certain whether the cosmoglot was dangerous.) In early 1453 AoE, the Asjarian cognoscenti Karuna Kharkanis made a stunning discovery. When he sat in front of the cosmoglot and placed his hands, palms down, onto the "feet", the device seemed to "come to life". The tube's inner chamber began to glow. An orb - seemingly floating inside the chamber - became visible and radiated a warm orange light. Concentric rings orbiting the sphere began to spin in opposite directions and the entire device acquired a soft hummm.
Mysterious Voices
Karuna's initial progress was slow - for while he was amazed to find that his touch could apparently "activate" the device, he was also unaware of its functionality and was (understandably) concerned that it may explode or cause some other harm. But once he became reasonably comfortable that the cosmoglot wouldn't kill him, he spent more time with his hands on the receptacles. And what he observed astounded him. After an initial period, during which the cosmoglot apparently needed to "warm up", voices started to emanate from the device. Sometimes the sounds were clearly attributable to a single voice. At other times, there seemed to be a crowd at the other end. During some sessions, the voices would take turns, speaking one at a time. During others, the voices overlapped, as though they were speaking in a crowded meeting. The voices never spoke Sontjen. They occasionally spoke tidbits of Komon, although the accents and the vernacular were decidedly difficult for Karuna (or any subsequent casterways) to decipher. Some have claimed that pieces of the dialog could be traced to Tallonari, but later researchers have disputed these claims.
The Asjarians are spinning tales of a machine, fallen from the sky, that can talk to the heavens. If I ever decide to resume my drug habit, I'm moving to Asjaria.
Avir Batyrnev, Maversian cognoscenti, 1454 AoE
Talking to the Gods
Once word of Karuna's discovery spread, it became a sensation. First, across the entire Sontsu Peninsula, and eventually, to every reach of Excilior's continents. Despite a persistent ignorance about exactly what the cosmoglot was, or how it worked, the public imagination soon sprung forward to fill in the details. It became a matter of public "understanding" that the device was nothing less than a two-way communication portal to the Absents, or, maybe even, to other divine creatures. Such (over)confident assessments also fostered all manner of wild speculation. Casterways spoke of it as though it could grant wishes and answer prayers - despite the fact that no one, at any time, could even confirm that the voices emanating from the cosmoglot were aware of the casterways using it or making any attempt to speak to them.
National Disputes
The cosmoglot soon rose to the pantheon of national treasure. It attracted dignitaries from across the world and brought great fame to the Asjarian people. Unfortunately, this fame also exacerbated a long-standing animosity that had festered over many decades between the Asjarians and the Rinenmaans. Within 20 years of the artifact's installment in Asjar, Rinenmaa was already making noise about the device, touting themselves as rightful owners. Rinenmaans repeatedly cited the fact that the cosmoglot's "discoverer" - Funita Tamenori - was one of their own. Some even went so far as to claim that we has righteously fishing in Rinenmaan waters when a storm blew him westward, to the Asjarian shore, where the cosmoglot was illegally seized by the Asjarian authorities.
Sack of Asjar
These tensions simmered, grew, and became generational. They festered for the better part of two centuries as a common thread in broader Rinenmaan-Asjarian disputes. Finally, in 1659 AoE, Rinenmaa was confident enough in its own armies (and annoyed enough with Asjaria's impudence), that they commenced a horrific attack on the capital city of Asjar and all of the surrounding countryside. This event has theretofore always been known as the Sack of Asjar (even though smaller, outlying communities were also attacked).
Cover Story
Rinenmaa's formal communications from the time spell out a series of putative justifications for the assault. Various references were made to trade, fishing rights, border controls, and other minor affairs of state. But nearly any neutral parties assessing the conflict - both then and now - came to identify the military actions as primarily motivated by the cosmoglot. The Rinenmaan's proposed grievances are now seen by most (outside Rinenmaa) as an elaborate front to justify the pillaging of the Asjarian royal compound and, ultimately, the seizing of the cosmoglot.
Elysium Tower
Rinenmaa was not content to simply seize their loot, nor to squirrel it away in some secret alcove. They immediately commenced construction of a grand new temple known as the Elysium Tower. It was built on the sacred island of Heaven's Door, in the middle of Everlak, off Rinenmaa's eastern shore. The epic spire was, in its day, the tallest structure on the planet. Its entire outer surface was covered in highly-polished (and insanely expensive) ebny panels, crafted so carefully that the seams could not be seen unless the observer was less than a meter away.
Ear of Absentia
The Elysium Tower was staffed and controlled by a state-sponsored cult - the Ear of Absentia. These "clergy" were solely concerned with the care and use of the device. They shielded most would-be visitors from its presence. Over time, they slowly became seen as the only people capable of "using" the device. This meant that they were also deemed to be the only individuals who knew how to (supposedly) converse with the voices on the other end, or to decipher the confusing language that came back in return. Foreign access to the cosmoglot was carefully metered, and the Rinenmaans extracted a heavy price for the privilege - even amongst their closest allies.
I spoke to the cosmoglot. And the answer I received was: "You are being scammed."
Arkaidos Kaidis, Taisinian quartermaster, 1878 AoE
Fading Power
Despite the longstanding and smoldering tensions that this situation fostered between Asjaria and Rinenmaa, the Elysium Tower, and its constituent cult of the Ear of Absentia, remained a basic fact of Sontsu life for more than seven centuries. What was not so commonly known was that the "function" of the cosmoglot seemed to slowly drain, and die, over time. As early as 1806 AoE, hushed reports began to circulate that the cosmoglot was "dying". Its inner lights were dimming. The voices became fainter. It took longer to "warm up" and, when it did, there were increasing instances when there was simply nothing at all to be heard from the device. Correspondingly, the Ear of Absentia grew ever stingier about allowing anyone from outside their order to witness or interact with the machine.
Behind the Curtain
If the device's power was draining, it was a long while before anyone in Rinenmaa would admit to it. The Ear of Absentia became a sort of proxy between "common" folk and the cosmoglot. Even when someone was privileged enough to be granted a chance to "use" the device, they began to report that they were escorted to the Elysium Tower and led into some kind of antechamber. From there, one of the Ear of Absentia would speak with them and ask what they wanted to learn from the cosmoglot. Eventually, the member of the order would leave them alone, ostensibly, so that the pilgrim's message could be relayed to the cosmoglot. At some point, the cult member would return bearing the putative reply that they claimed emanated directly from the cosmoglot itself. Nevertheless, in most of these encounters, the traveler never actually got the chance to see the cosmoglot with their own eyes, and they were left to take the guardian's word for the supposed reply that was returned.
Vanished
2407 AoR is viewed, to this day, as a year of national tragedy in Rinenmaa. It was the year when the cosmoglot simply disappeared. Some believe that the device had already been secretly removed from the tower many years before. Others believe that it was destroyed by the state before the general public could finally confirm that it was no longer functional in any way. The "official" government narrative - both then and today - is that the device was smuggled out by saboteurs and enemies of the state. The simple truth is that no one actually knows what happened to the cosmoglot.
Enduring Mystery
If it was stolen, it has never been recovered. A plethora of wild tales have proliferated for centuries over its supposed whereabouts. But not a shred of evidence has ever been found to support such claims. If it was destroyed, no conspirators have ever been found. Whatever became of the device, it's footprint has long since been erased by history.
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