(The) Eres’al: the spirit goddess of the Nerek (MT, Glossary)

represented by Axe in The Fulcra (MT, Glossary)

‘Eres’al. That’s the Nerek goddess.'(MT, UK Trade, p.426)

'Figures scurried past Udinaas, wearing furs or perhaps bearing their own thick coat, mottled brown, tan and black. They were surprisingly tall, their bodies disproportionately large below small-skulled, heavyjawed heads. One sported a reed-woven belt from which dead otters hung, and all carried coils of rope made from twisted grasses.

They were silent, yet Udinaas sensed their terror as they stared at something in the northern sky.

The slave squinted, then saw what had captured their attention. A mountain of black stone, hanging suspended in the air above low slopes crowded with shattered ice. It was drifting closer, and Udinaas

sensed a malevolence emanating from the enormous, impossible conjuration – an emotion the tall, pelted creatures clearly sensed as well.' (MT)

‘The weakness the Letherii exploited was found in the mortal Nerek, not in the spirits they worshipped. It is our belief now, Hannan Mosag, that the Eres’al was not truly awakened. She did not rise to defend those who worshipped her.’ (MT)

Eres, the species

Onrack:'Before the Imass, there was another people, older, wilder. They dwelt where it was warm, and they were tall, their dark skins covered in fine hair. These we knew as the Eres. Enclaves survived into our time...Trull Sengar:'...And they lived in jungles...?'...Onrack: 'Its verges, occasionally, but more often the surrounding savannas...They worked in stone, but with less skill than us...All Eres were bonecasters, Trull Sengar. For they were the first to carry the spark of awareness, the first so gifted by the spirits.’(HoC, UK Trade, p.659)

Monok Ochem: 'The Eres did not fashion holy sites of their own...but they understood that there were places where death gathered, where life was naught but memories, drifting lost and bemused. And, to such places, they would often bring their own dead. Power gathers in layers – this is the birthplace of the sacred.’(HoC, UK Trade, p.660)

Onrack: 'Eres holy sites burned through the barriers of Tellann. They are too old to be resisted...Hood did not exist when these were fashioned...Nor are they strictly death-aspected. Their power comes... from layers. Stone shaped into tools and weapons. Air shaped by throats. Minds that discovered, faint as flickering fires in the sky, the recognition of oblivion, of an end . . . to life, to love. Eyes that witnessed the struggle to survive, and saw with wonder its inevitable failure. To know and to understand that we must all die, Trull Sengar, is not to worship death. To know and to understand is itself magic, for it made us stand tall.’(HoC, UK Trade, p.660)

Bottle: 'the Eres. The Dwellers who lived in the time before the Imass, the first makers of tools, the first shapers of their world.’(HoC, UK Trade, p.669)

“The Eres’al, the Tall Ones — before a single human walked this world. Before the Imass, before even the K’Chain Che’Malle" (BH UKTpb, p.536)

“Tiste Edur forest,”  Curdle said, scampering ahead.  “They like their forests.”

“All those natural shadows,”  Telorast added.  “Power in permanence.  Blackwood, bloodwood, all sorts of terrible things.  The Eres were right to fear.” (BH)

Eres connection to Dal Hon

Mappo's thoghts  : ... it became increasingly apparent that the power manifesting itself over the bow of the ship was nothing like Spite’s.  No Draconean stink, no cold brutality.  No, the sighs of wind reaching the Trell were warm, dry, smelling of grasslands.  

Was there a connection?  Here, on this nameless ship, two shamans from Dal Hon, a land of yellow grasses, acacias, huge herds and big cats -- savanna -- and now, this … visitor, striding across foreign seas.

Eres'al, the individual(s)

Silchas Ruin: 'She wanders time, Kettle, in a manner no-one else can even understand, much less emulate. And this is very much her world. She is the fire that never dies.’(MT, UK Trade, p.397)

'Tall, lithely muscled, with a fine umber-hued pelt and long, shaggy hair reaching down past the shoulders. A woman. Her breasts were large and pendulous, her hips wide and full. Prominent, flaring cheekbones, a broad, full-lipped mouth...the woman’s dark

brown eyes, shadowed beneath a solid brow...She took a step...the movement graceful as a deer’s...Her breasts had swollen with milk in the past; her nipples had known the pressure of a pup’s hunger.'(HoC, UK Trade, p.661)

Onrack:'...I came into contact with sorcery. That which the Eres projected. For lack of any other term, it was a warren, barely formed, on the very edge of oblivion. It was...like the Eres themselves. A glimmer of light behind the eyes.’(HoC, UK Trade, p.662)

Bottle: '... because she is the last innocent creature, the last innocent ancestor of our line. After her the degradation of spirit begins.' (BH UK Tpb. p.20

Bottle : She still haunted his dreams, that Eres’al witch.  Still showed him the ancient hand-axes spread out over this land like the stone leaves of a world-encompassing tree, scattered by the winds of countless passing ages.  He knew, in fact, that fifty or so paces south of this track, there was a basin cluttered with the damned things.  Out there, a short walk, waiting for him. (BH)

Eres'al and her power

'An intruder, but one of power, and that power seemed to be growing.

‘Mael,’  Iskaral Pust had said with a manic laugh,  ‘he’s resisting, and getting his nose bloodied.  Do you sense his fury, Trell?  His spitting outrage?  Hee.  Hee hee.  But she’s not afraid of him, oh no, she’s not afraid of anyone!’ ' .........................

‘Outraged, yes,’  Iskaral Pust had said.  ‘Yet, do you sense his reluctance?  Oh, he struggles, but he knows too that she, who chooses to be in one place and not many, she is more than his match. Dare he focus?  He doesn’t even want this stupid war, hah!  But oh, it is that very ambivalence that so frees his followers to do as they please!’  (BH)

In a half-crouch, moving lithe, sinuous, filled with trepidation, approaching Icarium from behind, as the Jhag began walking towards the lone Tiste Edur.

Then, a swift dart forward -- Icarium heard and began his spin round -- but she had reached out, a long-fingered hand -- no weapon, reaching out, and Varat Taun saw the fingertips brush Icarium, just above the Jhag’s right hip -- the slightest of touches --

And the Slayer crumpled to the ground.

Behind Varat, a wordless cry, and the Letherii flinched as someone scrambled past him -- Taralack Veed --

The unhuman female had crouched beside the fallen form of Icarium.  Softly stroking the slayer’s forehead, as the amber glow began to fade, and with that fading, the female herself grew indistinct, then dissolved into gold light, that flickered, then vanished. (BH)

Eres in the Deck of Dragons

Fiddler : Empty Chair (Bottles position) gets Weaver of Life (BH)

Eres and T'amber

“T’amber,”  Grub said.  “Only you and me can see.  So watch, Lostara.  Watch.”

The golden glow was coalescing, rising up from the corpse.  A faint wind flowed past Lostara and Grub, familiar now, heady with the scent of savanna grasses, warm and dry.

“She stayed with us a long time,”  Grub whispered.  “She used T’amber.  A lot.  There wasn’t any choice.  The Fourteenth, it’s going to war, and we’re going with it.  We have to.”

A slight figure now stood at a half-crouch over the body.  Furred, tall, and female.  No clothing, no ornamentation of any kind.

Lostara saw the T’lan Imass(Legana Breed) thirty or more paces away, slowly turn to regard the apparition.  And then, head bowing, the undead warrior slowly settled onto one knee.  “I thought you said we were the only ones who could see, Grub.”

“I was wrong.  She has that effect.”

“Who -- what is she?”

“The Eres’al.  Lostara, you must never tell the Adjunct.  Never.” (BH)

Connection : T'amber was reputed to belong to the Queen of Dreams (Queen of Life)?