Nectar of Life

Nectar of Life

Location: Mount Celestia / Lunia

You want to know about Brihaspati’s little corner of paradise? Well, grab your mimir and listen up, berk.

Nectar of Life, that’s what the locals call it. As if it’s all sweetness and light. It’s a city of pearly white domes, gleaming like a cleric’s smile after they’ve scored a donation plate of merts. The whole joint’s got this serene vibe, like it’s trying too hard to be perfect. You’ll see grand temples, lush gardens with lotus flowers that probably never wither, and pristine crystal-clear waters. It’s the place where the power Brihaspati, holds court.

Now, the themes? Well, it’s all about Brihaspati – wisdom, enlightenment, and law-abiding goody-two-shoes stuff. You’ll see petitioners, those poor saps who thought worshiping him would score them a fast pass to eternal bliss. They’re all decked out in fancy robes, acting like they’re the bee’s knees. They love to talk philosophy and meditate like it’s the latest trend in town. But don’t expect rowdy banter; they’re a bit highbrow. It’s like being at a fancy dinner party where everyone’s trying to outdo each other with their wisdom.

One of the most interesting parts of Nectar of Life is the so-called “Academy of Speaking Truth to Power,” a place where even the most holier-than-thou powers have their egos served right back to them with a side of celestial humility. Don’t let Brihaspati’s proxies hear you calling it that though, I’m not sure it even has a name formally because it’s all very hush-hush. Picture this: Brihaspati, the wise old godsage, trying to teach fresh-faced gods who haven’t even sprouted a celestial beard yet. They strut in, all full of themselves, thinking they’re the hottest thing since enchanted swords. Brihaspati, of course, doesn’t pull any punches.

There was this one time, see, when a young godling – only a thousand years old, mind you – strolled into the Academy with an air of importance that could rival a demon lord. He thought he knew it all, but Brihaspati wasn’t having it. He looked that godling square in the eye and said, “Your power’s like a firework on a festival day – flashy, but it won’t last.” Well, you can imagine the fireworks that followed. That godling’s celestial tantrum could be heard across Lunia.

Then there was this other time when a god fresh off the divine assembly line claimed they could control all the elements. Brihaspati decided to put them to the test. He asked them to conjure up a storm, and they tried, oh, how they tried. But all they managed was a drizzle that barely soaked deva’s wing. Brihaspati chuckled and said, “Looks like you’ve got some work to do, youngling.” That power left in a huff, vowing to prove him wrong.

You see, friend, the Academy’s all about knocking those high-and-mighty gods down a peg or two. Brihaspati’s got no time for egos, and he’s not afraid to speak his mind. The gods might leave with bruised pride, but they also leave with a lesson – humility. It’s a place where even the newest divine hotshots learn that they’ve got a long way to go before they’re truly celestial heavyweights.

Other notable features of the realm:

• The Pinnacle of Indigo, home to Indigo, a high-up in the Order of Planes-Militant sect
• The Katsudarma Library, an enormous library of lore
• Maiden’s Veil, a thundering waterfall coming down from Mercuria
• Omyriel, the realm town of Nectar of Life

So there you have it, cutter. Nectar of Life, where everything’s pure as the driven snow, and the petitioners are about as lively as a library. If you’re really lucky though, your visit might coincide with Brihaspati having an audience with an uppity young demipower, and then you’re in for a real treat. But that’s a lamentably rare sight I’m afraid. If you’re into the whole holier-than-thou scene, Nectar of Life might be your cup of bub. Me? I prefer the wild streets of Sigil, where things get a bit more unpredictable – and the primes are prime for a good prank or two.

Canonical Reference: Places of Law: Mount Celestia [2e] p14-15 (realm description)

Source: Jon Winter-Holt, mimir.net