Lords of Creation: Ancients of the Void IC

[Mynxae]

Links:
Out of Character Thread (http://www.giantitp.com/forums/showthread.php?345361-Lords-of-Creation-Ancients-of-the-Void-OoC&p=17392622#post17392622).
Recruiting Thread (http://www.giantitp.com/forums/showthread.php?345241-Lords-of-Creation-Ancients-of-the-Void)

In The Beginning...

In the beginning, there was only darkness before the Material Plane came into being, made by the glorious Creator. It was just a basic world, with nothing on it but water and basic aquatic life. "I wonder what will become of this world? I suppose I shall never know..." said the Creator as he faded away into the Void.

The Birth of Aetherys

Aetherys let out a slight whimper as he appeared in the water of the planet, but he smiled a pantherly smile, showing his teeth once he saw the abundance of the fish to feast on in the world. "Ah yes... This shall do nicely!" he thought as he threw up a fish that went straight into his mouth. "But... I could do with more. Nature itself cannot exist in the water." thought Aetherys as godly power flowed through him into the surrounding water.

Land rose up out from the depths of the sea, a small continent in fact, with equal amounts of forest and grasslands. Animals appeared with the land as it rose up, and Aetherys basked in the sunlight on a grassy green hill jutting slightly in one of the many forests on the land. "This will do nicely" he murmured softly in his mind as he curled up for a nap.

Start AP: 15.

Create Land: 2 AP

End AP: 13.

[Croverus]

Forming of the Forsaken

The inky black sky above the new world shivered as a single eye opened, looking down upon the world, four smaller eyes opening above it the central orb. Attraxxii watched the world below with equal measures curiosity and loathing. But it stared for too long, finding its eyes stuck up in the sky, circling the world below. Attraxxii considered asking its brother to assist but chose against such an action, instead the abomination decides to stay where he is, circling the planet and observing.


Start AP: 15.

Weave Plane: 4 AP - Attraxxii turns himself into 5 floating orbs, acting as a set of moons that now orbit the planet.The surface of the orbs are his eyes, and the space between them is solid blackness, obscuring anything beyond.

End AP: 11.

[Muja]

Illumination of Splender

And above the formed mass of earth and water was birthed Celestine, rays of light glancing over the forms that take shape in the sea's murky depths. Frowning, the Goddess knew this was not enough for her purposes.

"There must be Life for there to be Joy, and for Life there must be Warmth" she spoke, chiming throughout the land in a soft melodic sound. Raising her hands towards the black sky, Celestine formed a marvelous globe of pure white flame far above the material plane. Heat emanated from it, removing the deathly chill that once lingered.

Start AP: 15.

Weave Plane: 4 AP - Sun

End AP: 11.

[Xunthrae]

Mersahj's Awakening

Mersahj awoke in the deepest part of the ocean. She stretched her new body and looked around. She saw the creatures of the deep and instantly knew they were hers and she was theirs. She searched the ocean for beings similar to her in shape and appearance, but none were there.

She ascended from the depths of the ocean to the surface. Her fin crowned head breaching the surface as she takes her first breath of the air the resides above her oceans. Breathing in deeply she the exhaled as she focused. From her mind lept into being her people. Humanoid from the waist up, and instead of giving them her tentacles, she gifts them with fins, ranging from those of the dolphin pods to those unique to their kind, all meant to give her people the swiftness to traverse the open oceans and escape predators or catch prey. In addition to their fins, she gives them the gift of light. Along their bodies small nodes of light shine, lighting the darkness in which they live. She need's to give them a name. She thinks briefly and then settles on naming them after herself. The people of Mersahj, Merfolk.

Mersahj couldn't leave her people fully mundane, she needs to give them an edge, as she is forming them she imbues them with a gift for working the magic in the world around them, and small powers innately.

One last gift to her people. She reaches down and plucks a piece of pink Coral and shapes it into a crown. She selects a woman to wear it. Her name is Lori'sahj. She shall lead her people, and she will pass the crown down to the next leader, when her time is done. The powers of the crown allow the wearer to see the patterns in the weather and so they can easily guide their pod to avoid or make use of incoming storms. It also provides some protection from physical harm.

"Use the gifts I have given you and you will flourish. Now spread throughout the oceans my children and become the rulers of the sea."

With that, Mersahj leaves her people to live their lives as she begins to explore and roam the ocean on her own, but as she does, she hears through the sounds of the ocean their prayers to her.


Starting AP: 15
Actions: Create Magical Life: Costs 3 AP
Create Artifact: The Coral Crown (http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Bs1UdyA-DBw/TgzHQL2RrlI/AAAAAAAAEvY/tTIcyLu2EvM/s400/coraltiara2.jpg) Cost 4 AP
AP Left: 8

[Toxic Mind]

Kereth was born of the questions of the universe. Even Gods have questions, and the Creator was no different. His wonder brought Kereth to life, an answer to the question, a guide to help those along the path they sought.

Kereth knew there were others on the world like him, he could feel the spark of their divine. And so he wandered, and as he did, he saw the world, and knew it for the truth of what it was. His eyes saw the hidden pathways, the ways through the forests on the new land, the currents in the seas. He saw even the path of the watcher in the heaven above, how he became trapped, and how he might free himself. But Kereth's help was not given unless asked, and so he walked on. He saw the sleeping god, the land creator, and saw the multitude of paths stretched out before it. Kereth learned that day of the pathways of gods, and how complex it was to guide them. But he did not wish to disturb the god, and so he simply left a small mark of himself, a lantern drawn in soft light, near the sleeping god, and walked on.

Kereth saw that mortals had come into the world, deep in the oceans and that it would be he that guided them on their journeys, both through this world, and the next. So he raises his lantern, and pours his divine power into it. He makes it a beacon for the souls of the deceased, to guide them away from the void, to keep them safe, and then to ferry them onward to the afterlife their god had designed for them. Kereth knew this was not enough, and so until his brothers and sisters created a place for their mortal souls, Kereth made his own, to keep all souls until they could be entrusted to the god they chose. So just as the light of the lantern called souls away from the void, the Lantern itself served as a pocket dimension, where all the souls pulled into the lantern could rest in peace and safety, until they were collected.


4: Create Relic (Kereth's Lantern)
- Modified Bless Effect: Draws Souls to itself, guiding them through the void and bringing them to the Souls Fields
4: Weave Plane (Soul Fields)
- Kereth's Lantern holds this plane within itself, and all souls brought to the lantern travel here. The plane itself is a place of peace and tranquility, where the dead can have their questions answered and their worries assuaged before passing on to individual after life's created by their own gods. Kereth travels this plane often, giving comfort and guidance to the dead.

OOC: (The Soul Fields is open for any other god to create on its outskirts a portal to their own afterlife, and a guardian/judge that ferries souls to their specific afterlife. You only need to ask)

Remaining AP: 7/15

[MichaelGoldclaw]

From the light, came a humanoid figure. It then descended to the ground, reflecting the light off its metal armor. The woman stood up and looked at the landscape. She then drew her sword and planted it into the ground. She then spoke. "On this spot, I will make a new race. They will be versatile, able to attack any challenge. They will be stalwart, never surrendering even in the shadow of defeat. Finally, they will be free, not forced to serve any god or goddess. Here, Humanity will begin." AS she withdrew her sword, the dirt rose into humanoid forms and then the dirt changed into flesh, blood, and bone. Humanity was created

"I am Lady Aleru, Queen of Chivalry. I created you to do as you please, but I urge you to follow the path of good. Whether you are dedicated to freedom, justice, mercy, honor, etc., you will be rewarded tenfold. Now go, and know that everything has its consequences, but not all consequences are bad."

15-2=13

-2: Humans

[Vigen]

Elafriel

Having been awaken for some time, was just enjoying the cold soft flow of air in the upper atmosphere lulled into a trance of calm and blissfullness, that was until the sudden warmth of a giant ball of fire suddenly hanging in the sky above her, broke her out of it, the heat suffocating and repulsing her very being.
How had this madness come to be? who were responsible for this blasfemy? Her first thought, was to extinguish the big ball of fire, but no matter what she tried her powers didn't affect this foreign object, and she was unable to quelch its flames.
Having failed at affecting the sun directly Elafriel then turned her attention towards the moons in the sky "maybe the heat would subside, if she moved one of the moons infront of it?" As she tried to reach out with her powers to grab hold of the nearest moon, she was surprised when instead of finding solid rock, she found a mind like her own.
She knew instinctively that it was her sibling, who though born into existence on the same plane as her, was somehow different, it hadn't taken the form of either male nor female and It had somehow rooted itself in the wast black emptiness surrounding the world.
Withdrawing her powers as soon as she felt the presence of her siblings mind, she reached out and spoke to it
"Hello i am Elafriel and what should i call you?"
"I need your cooperation in sheltering this world, against the harmful rays of fire"
"Your heavenly bodies would be an invaluable defense, if you could place them in between the sun, and this world i would be very grateful"

[Toxic Mind]

Kereth felt Purpose calling to him. The Lantern at his side shown brightly, and suddenly, he appeared before Elafriel as she asked her questions of the not-moons. Kereth heard her plea, and thought for a moment, then spoke.

"Sister. To extinguish this light, burning though it may be, would be to doom many living things that our siblings have created. They cannot live in endless darkness, any more than you could live in endless light. Surely there is a path by which both may be appeased. I am called Kereth, and I will help you, if you will but allow me to do so."

[Xealot7]

Domi, The Lawbringer

Domi blinks into existence as if he has always been there. Perhaps he has, perhaps he has not. Either way it matters not, for the Lawbringer is here now. He notices all of the creations so far and is pleased. However, he also notices right away that there will be conflict. Already there is conflict over warmth and cold, light and darkness. "I supposed it will always be so. Opposites will always oppose each other and conflict is the only outcome." Domi looks around and admires how industrious his siblings have been. "Enough of me being inactive. I think it is time to serve my purpose."

Domi moves to the void and finds a nice area to call home. Nothing to big or extravagant, more of a place to reward those who dedicate their life to fighting evil and chaos. With significant thought he creates the realm of Kreaxe, a realm of light, order, and protection. Kreaxe will be a place where his warriors can rest after fighting the good fight. Domi smiles in his new realm. But, who should he share it with?

Domi decides then to create a race that is an extension of his will. Beings of pure Law, pure good, who have the innate desire to protect others. They are mostly humanoid in nature and are akin to what humans would think of as angels. "These will be Guardians, and they will be the protectors of this world."

And with those two creations, Domi sets back in Kreaxe and enjoys his creations.


Weave Plane: Kreaxe -4AP
Create Fabled Life: Guardians -4AP
7/15AP

[Xunthrae]

Mersahj felt the outrage of her sister. The heat from the sky was more taxing on her skin that the darkness before, but she can see the benefits it could have for her people. She swam to Elafriel and Kereth.

"Sister of Ice, I am Mersahj. Maybe I can aid in this endeavor. With your help, and the help of we can turn the world away from the fire to set in motion a cycle which would split the time it shine on the world letting you have your ice, they will have their heat. Also I can force the currents to carry heat away from the top and the bottom of the world, that can be your place."

[MichaelGoldclaw]

As humanity started to grow, they made tribes. One tribe, however, decided to settle down at a river. The tribe formed a village, which ALeru visited upon it's formation. The crowd bowed at her and then she said "This village will soon become a town, and then a castle. Then from this castle, a kingdom, but what sort of kingdom has no king or queen. Thus I have three tests for him her. First, who wishes to rule." a few men and women step forward. "You may leave. A good ruler does not want to be one." the ones who stepped forward walked away, some disappointed, some shamed, others angry. "Now, who amongst you is a fool." only a few stepped up. "You are the wisest amongst them. Everyone else, leave." Same scenario as before except it applied to the fools who thought they were wise. "Finally, a test of bravery, for bravery is needed to do what isn't safe or popular. You must catch this sword while it comes down. After that. You must fight me. There is one thing you must know. First, you can't kill me, for you are all just mortals. Second, I can kill you. Now I am going to toss my blade into the air. One of you must catch it. Hopefully you won't lose a hand. You ready?" The 3 remaining noded. When the sword was tossed in the air, all three raised their hand, but when it came closer, only one had the courage to keep. Just when it was about to cut his hand, the blade moved so that the hilt lands in his hands. He catched it and all of a sudden, he learned how to use it. He looked down and saw armor and a shield. "Go ahead. It would be fair if you didn't have your own set." She donned the armor and equiped the shield. Then Aleru said. "Now we duel. You may have the first move." The man then swung his sword. It cut Aleru's right arm when it hit the gap in the armor. Aleru countered with a vicous onslaught. The man was scared to death, but he stood fast. Aleru continued her attack. The man was close to death, but then. "Well done, you fought on despite staring death in the face." The man then noticed his wounds were gone. "What is your name." The man said

"Calderis."

"King Calderis, I give you control of This land stretching from the mountains down to the coast. This is your land. Let it be ruled justly."

"I will, my lady."

After the test, Aleru decided to visit one of her siblings. She then faded from the main plane of existance to another one, a holy one. She saw a god in a plane called Kreaxe. She bowed and said. "Greetings, brother. I am Lady Aleru, Queen of Chivalry. I have come to meet you, a like minded individual."

13-6=7
Form society- Kingdom of Galvastia
Raise Hero: King Calderis Honorshield

[Croverus]

Attraxxii had not expected so many of its siblings to be interested in him. His massive eyes started at them unblinking, and then his voice echoed from the five moons, though only the deities could hear it.

"THE ORB OF FIRE BURNS BRIGHT, AND THIS ONE SQUINTS IN THE LIGHT, BUT THIS ONCE CAN SOLVE MANY PROBLEMS AT ONCE. IF THIS ONE WOULD HAVE THE AID OF ITS SIBLINGS. THIS ONE WILL CIRCLE THE SKY, BLOCKING THE SUN NOW AND THEN SO THE WORLD DOES NOT BURN IN ITS CONSTANT LIGHT. THIS ONE'S MOVEMENTS WILL ALSO SHIFT THE WATER BELOW, MAKING IT RUSH INTO THE LAND THEN RECEDE, BASED ON WHERE THIS ONE IS IN THE SKY. THE LIGHT WILL BURN THIS ONE'S BACK WHEN IT COVERS THE FLAMES, BUT THIS ONE WILL ADAPT."

It waited for the opinions of its equals, it would enact the plan with or without their permission.

Edit: Capslocked Attraxxii's text, he has no indoor voice, and sounds similar to the Atraxi aliens from Doctor Who (the floating eyeballs surrounded by crystals that were seeking Prisoner Zero).

[Toxic Mind]

"A sound plan. And one that I believe will serve all who are involved well enough. I cannot speak for my sisters, but it seems to be a compromise, a path by which all may benefit. My thanks, moon god. I will depart, for it seems my council is no longer needed." Kereth nods to all, and the lantern in his hand glows. As its light winks out, so to is Kereth gone, though he does not hide his presence from their sight. True to his word, the Guide has gone elsewhere to seek where he is needed.

As he wanders, he feels the first mortal souls, both human and merfolk, break free of their bodies. In that instant, Kereth is beside them, a kind friend to help them. "Come with me." he says softly. "Your time on this world is done, but for you is not the darkness of the void. Come follow, for the light will never lead you astray." As each of the souls assents, Kereth's Lantern glows briefly. They follow the guiding Light of the Lantern, and though the void is dark, they find their way easy, and the journey peaceful.

The souls of the merfolk find tranquil waters in the Soul Fields, the coral and fish of their undersea world no less beautiful in this world. Here they have found a place where they can rest with ease until Mersahj can come for them, and take them into her arms. The humans find rewards they had not imagined in life, their hardships eased and their toil non-existent. The warriors among them found honor and glory, but all humans found peace in the Soul Fields, waiting for their god or goddess to come for them. Kereth wandered among them, few though they may be, a saw that they were happy. And so the Guide was pleased, and he knew that one small Purpose was fulfilled as he did so.

[Venetian Mask]

The Man and the Spade
There was a tribe down the river, still unnamed, but already touched by the gods. They had only just figured out the basics of agriculture and lived in small huts tending their fields. Life was hard, but honest, and each member of the tribe had its fair share. They were content, even if they had been shown what was to come.

There was one man in this vilage named Tommen. Tommen didn't think himself a very smart person or a very brave person. He didn't own a lot of land and didn't want to rule. He had one thing that made him special though, he was inquisitive and he was lazy. While his fellow tribesmen tended their crops by hand growing tough with callous skin he looked over his farm and thought: There must be an easier way.

He waded into the river and got a stone, polished by the constant deluge and honed to a thin, but strong sharpened spade. He took this to his hut and started messing around with it, noticing that it could be used to scoop some of the dirt, effectively easing his work when he had to plough the fields. He still wasn't quite convinced because he still had to kneel over the field where he was digging and the stone was quite uncomfortable to hold, but it was quite an improvement. Soon his neighbours saw him using the stone and after a while the whole tribe was using flat stones instead of their hands when plowing the fields.

Then, one night, a year later Tommen was sitting in his hut scowling at the stone. His hands where cleaner and smoother, but he still got blisters from the stone. on his table lay a bit of plant fiber and a few thicker branches he had been using to spool the fiber. Then he looked at the stone and back at the fiber. Suddenly a spark filled his mind and his eyes started to gleam. What if... he thought. As he started working with a renewed determination, almost as if something outerworldly was guiding his hands.

The man diligently worked and soon his rock was tied to a long stick, he looked at his creation still in a happy haze of invention when he noticed two hands on his arms. He hadn't noticed it before, caught up in his work, but around him the hands of another person had slowly faded into existence. The hands had been guiding him in his inspiration and as he twisted around to look at the person touching him they left his body and an older man stepped back.

Who... Who are you? Tommen asked, a sense of apprehension filling him. Was this another of the divine ones? He certainly had an outworldly quality, much like the god Aleru. But something seemed different about him. Where Aleru had been regal this man was old and beaten, slightly hunched. Where Aleru had been friendly, but authorative, much like a father, this man had a kindly mischievous smile.

The man pushed him aside Ooooh, excellent craftsmanship that! You're doing quite well... For a savage. He didn't know how to feel about that, did that man just call him a savage? But as he opened his mouth to protest the man headed him off, Oh, don't take it personal. This world is young, and by my perspective you are all savages. Or... You were. You just made a great discovery, the first invention which will ultimately lead to greatness for your kind. The old man bowed to him. But I forget myself, humans are so interesting, and if I don't stop myself I won't get anything done. I am Nester, the word had a kind of gravity to it, and slowly the man seemed to be growing in stature, his aura overwhelming the tiny light that lit up the hut. And you were quite correct in your ponderings earlier. I am indeed a god, I am the spark that lies behind all creativity, and it is through me that you will rise to great heights.

The god stepped forward and touched the face of the mortal, suddenly a flash of understanding filling its mind, he saw huge cities with ivory walls, wagon trains laden with goods, intricate timepieces, and swords made of the strongest steel. In his mind he heard a voice This, and much more lies in the future of your kingdom, but it will not be founded on the sweat of your backs alone. Without creativity and invention it will stagnate and eventually turn to dust. This is my gift to you. Use it wisely. Then the voice was gone, as were the images. And with a start Tommen awoke. He looked around and noticed it was already day. He stepped out of the cottage blinking into the sunlight. He didn't quite understand what had happened to him, but his mind was overflowing with new ideas, plans and trinkets. He was going to get really busy really soon.

EDIT: Whoops, forgot to do AP expenditure.
Create Lesser Concept (Tools) (1): This concept covers rudimentary tools like farming equipment and fishing poles. Tools can be used as weapons, but aren't as effective as real weapons.

15-1=14 AP Left

[Toxic Mind]

Kereth watched as the new god guided the human. He had been in that town, for a human was close to death, and Kereth could feel his soul pulling from his mortal shell. Still, Kereth watched, and saw something of himself. This one, he thought, was a guide as well.

Kereth finished his work in the town, sending the man's soul onward, and then found Nester. "Brother", he said, "you have my compliments. You and I are alike, in part. We are both guides, in our own way." Kereth nods his head, a greeting to an equal, "may the light keep your path clear from all that would cause you to stumble." Kereth raise his lantern as he intones the words, a blessing, unnecessary but still a mark of respect.

[Venetian Mask]

Another divine. How interesting. The two old men looked at eachother. A guide... Yes, you could call me that, the god said with a chuckle I sense many will name me a meddler instead. Regardless, my thanks for the kind words, it is to be seen if my influence shall live up to them. A frown darkened the old gods face, evaporating just as fast as it appeared.

With the concern faded Nester extends a hand to the god. And my blessing to you, that you may never be dumbfounded and that your creativity may never dry. It is good to meet a similar soul, I feel some of our extended family may not be as interested in guiding the mortals.

[Toxic Mind]

"Be that as it may, all we can do is the best with what we are given. Fare well, inventor. I expect we shall see one another soon enough. Should you need anything, only ask for guidance." Kereth smiles wryly. "I will hear, and come."

Kereth's Lantern glows brightly, and suddenly the god is gone. He walks the Soul Fields for a time, thinking upon what he has seen, and how best to guide the fledgling mortals, and his kin, along the paths they sought.

[Mynxae]

Wakening

Aetherys blinked as he looked up at the bright sky and stretched before noticing the lantern, to which he circled around threateningly. "A trap? Must be a trap, what else could a lantern be, used for light?" he scoffed.

He crept closer and as he did, he noticed that it glowed slightly with power akin to his. "There are others..?" he thought suspiciously. He pounced on the lantern and with a terrified yelp he was drawn into it, teleported to its master.

Kereth

Aetherys tumbled out of Kereth's lantern with a strangled yowl as he noticed a divine being beside him. He quickly assembled a humanoid form pleasing to him and introduced himself. "Greetings, other divine being. I thought I was alone on this world but looking around, it looks like there are more than just myself. I am Aetherys. And, you are?" he said with a deep voice that reminded you of the growl of his other form.

[Toxic Mind]

Kereth was quite surprised when the cat popped into existence in the Soul Fields, tumbling from the lantern hanging rom his staff. Though, after a moment's thought, it became obvious what had happened. What he intended as simply a greeting card of sorts had obviously brought the other god here.

"Aetherys." Kereth says, almost testing the sound of the name. "It is good to meet you. I am Kereth, and I light the paths for those who seek my guidance. I see you found my lantern. I have found a few others such as ourselves, some in the sky and others in the sea. Allow me to welcome to the Soul Fields." Kereth gestures to the expanse around them, already taking on the idea characteristics of the god now dwelling, as trees and vines grew quickly, with solid trunks for climbing and sun overhead for basking. "This is where the mortals come when their forms can no longer sustain their essence. What would you have of me, since you have come all this way?"

[Xealot7]

Domi
Plane of Kreaxe



After the test, Aleru decided to visit one of her siblings. She then faded from the main plane of existance to another one, a holy one. She saw a god in a plane called Kreaxe. She bowed and said. "Greetings, brother. I am Lady Aleru, Queen of Chivalry. I have come to meet you, a like minded individual."


Domi smiles at the arrival of his sibling.

"Greetings Lady Aleru, it is a pleasure to meet the Queen of Chivalry. I am impressed with Humans and how you have organized them. I would like to offer my Guardians to serve as defenders of your humans should it ever become necessary. My Guardians were created to protect and as such, have arguably less free will than your humans. I look forward to long and prosperous relationship between us."

Domi smiles as he awaits Lady Aleru's response.

(Posting from phone. Will add text color and formatting later.)

[Mynxae]

Kereth was quite surprised when the cat popped into existence in the Soul Fields, tumbling from the lantern hanging rom his staff. Though, after a moment's thought, it became obvious what had happened. What he intended as simply a greeting card of sorts had obviously brought the other god here.

"Aetherys." Kereth says, almost testing the sound of the name. "It is good to meet you. I am Kereth, and I light the paths for those who seek my guidance. I see you found my lantern. I have found a few others such as ourselves, some in the sky and others in the sea. Allow me to welcome to the Soul Fields." Kereth gestures to the expanse around them, already taking on the idea characteristics of the god now dwelling, as trees and vines grew quickly, with solid trunks for climbing and sun overhead for basking. "This is where the mortals come when their forms can no longer sustain their essence. What would you have of me, since you have come all this way?"

The Soul Fields

"God of the Afterlife then huh? We'll do well then, for I intend on sending some poor souls up here to join their brethren" growled Aetherys with a slight menacing tone. As he said this, roots rose up from the ground to wrap around him and slowly drag him into the earth. "Good day Kereth, we shall meet again I'm sure" he said with a smirk on his face as he was swallowed up.

The Grassy Knoll

A hole appeared atop the knoll as Aetherys jumped up out of it as the grass reformed beneath him. "So if there's one.. then there's others" he surmised. He vanished and reappeared atop the tallest tree in the forest, at the very center of the forest. He could see across the land, for the tree was that large. He spied the humans, who defiled nature with their very being as well as the merfolk who polluted the waters with their essence.

"These beings are destroying my glorious nature just by being there" he spat angrily, swaying slowly on the treetop. "They will rue the day they have done this, I swear it" he swore as he reappeared below the great tree. He waved his hands as the very ground rose up in front of him, creating new trees as it went.. Or so they seemed. But they were sentient walking trees, grown to protect nature and its inhabitants. "Greetings, my Wood Walkers! Today, we shall take back nature! Today, we shall take back what is rightfully ours!" Aetherys roared as the Wood Walkers raised their wooden arms to the sky as they all went their separate ways throughout the forest to find the borders and watch for any interference with nature.

Start AP: 13.

Create Fabled Life AP4: Wood Walkers, essentially treants made from large oak trees that communicate telepathically. They have the ability to morph their arms into weapons of nature, for example, they can change them into a long wooden blade as strong as iron, or into a broad wooden shield a foot thick.

End AP: 9.

[Vigen]

"Thank you sibling for helping me in my predicament, though i fear it will not be enough for me, to once more call this place my home, i appriciate all the help you have given."

Elafriel looked at the creations made, and with that in mind she grapped a piece of air and started forming it to her will, she saw how the birds dominated the sky, humans the earth and merfolk the sea. And with that in mind, she made her imagination come to life, with the form of a bird and body of a man she breathed life into her creation and the avian race was born, "i gift these children of the air to you sibling in the sky, may they do your bidding and serve you well, these messengers of the moons."

"Well met brother Kereth and sister Mersahj i am Elafriel, though i care not for the lives of the creations under the sun, your compassion and willingness to help me in my predicament have lessened the anger in my heart. For your compassion i will forfeit my endeavor of quenching this ball of fire, though i fear i will no longer be able to call this home" Elafriel gestures to the upper atmosphere with sadness in her eyes

"Farewell brother though i don't agree with you, and far from sees this problem as solved."
Elafriel notes upon Kereths departure "He's a quirky one that Kereth, one minute he offers to help me in my problem, the next he sees the problem as solved"

I'm afraid i don't see the problem quite as solved as our brother, what do you purpose as a solution to my predicament dear sister?


Create Fabled life 4ap: Avians they are basically big humanoid birds, much like angels in stature though more bird than man, they are able to fly in the black matter surrounding the world and thereby don't need air to survive or fly. Avians use telepathy as their primary language. Their purpose is to serve and do the bidding of Attraxxii until he gives them another purpose.
11/15 ap left

http://fc06.deviantart.net/fs70/i/2010/023/6/b/Avian_Race_female_illustration_by_PhoenixSweetTear s.jpg

[MichaelGoldclaw]

Domi
Plane of Kreaxe


Domi smiles at the arrival of his sibling.

"Greetings Lady Aleru, it is a pleasure to meet the Queen of Chivalry. I am impressed with Humans and how you have organized them. I would like to offer my Guardians to serve as defenders of your humans should it ever become necessary. My Guardians were created to protect and as such, have arguably less free will than your humans.

I look forward to long and prosperous relationship between us."

Domi smiles as he awaits Lady Aleru's response.

(Posting from phone. Will add text color and formatting later.)

"I would gladly accept their help. I thank you, Brother."

[Croverus]

Attraxxii wills his moons to begin circling the world below, moving through the sky day and night. At night his moons cast a cool purple light across the land. During the day his light was washed out by the sun, but he was still visible in the sky, each day his path took him closer and closer, until one day he passed in front of the sun directly, catching the flame and blocking the light from reaching the world. His eyes shown red instead of purple, and he stayed in front of the sun for the remainder of that day.


"FROM NOW AND FOREVER, SUCH WILL IT BE; THIS ONE BLOTS OUT THE SUN AND RED ALL WILL SEE.
TEN SCORE DAYS PASS, IT WILL HAPPEN ONCE MORE; AND AGAIN, AND AGAIN, EVERY TEN SCORE.
THIS ECLIPSE WILL CAUSE MANY STRANGE EVENTS TO TAKE PLACE; AS THE CREATURES OF DAYLIGHT SEE ONLY THIS FACE.
THIS ONE SENDS THEM GIFTS, SOME GOOD AND SOME BAD; SOME STRONG, SOME SMART, SOME ROTTEN OR MAD.
FIRST THE MERFOLK, WHO LIVE IN THE SEA; SOME SINK TO THE DEPTHS, AS DEEP AS CAN BE.
THERE THEY WILL CHANGE, ADAPT AND GROW; LOSS OF MAGIC AND MIND, THEY BECOME SO.
LOCATHAH THEY BE, MERFOLK ABERRATION; FIRST TO CHANGE ON THIS OCCASION."

The red light cast on the day of the sun's eclipse by the moon washes over the ocean. One of Attraxxii's great tentacles reaches down towards a colony of merfolk and slams into the water, the current created pulling some of them deep down into the ocean depths, much too deep for normal merfolk to survive. But Attraxxii sends a spark of his chaos into those that are dragged down, aided by the light of the eclipse. The merfolk dragged into the blacky depths mutate into various shapes, some with gaping jaws, bulbous eyes, rows of needle sharp teeth, or tentacles with hooks. They lose their ability to use magic and become less intelligent and more violent, and unable to stand the light of day. They are only a threat to merfolk who swim too deep, though at night a stray may venture towards the surface, little more than a violent beast.

Attraxxii moved away from the sun, it had many eclipses to come and would enact changes on the other races then. For now it turned to the gifts given by the sister, majestic avian beings. Two of the small moons were hollowed out and the Avians were given to roost there. Attraxxii was unsure what to do with them for now.

As a side effect of Attraxxii circling the world, the oceans moved to follow his path, swelling up towards him. The created rolling tides to form, rising on one end of the large landmass, continuing along each coast line, then the waters would recede as they rose on the other side of the continent. And so on.


Start AP: 11

Create Monstrous Life: 1 AP - Create the Locathah, mutated versions of Merfolk, they resemble deep sea life, have no magic, and are barely more intelligent than animals. They are stronger than Merfolk and more prone to violence, but stay away from the shallower waters.

Curse Merfolk: 1 AP - The creation of the Locathah caused a large number of deaths among Merfolk, and the violence of the new creations for those that dove after their afflicted kin only to find them violent beasts.

Alter Land: 1 AP - All coastlines are now subject to rolling tidal patterns.

Create Magical Concept: 3 AP - The Red Eclipse, an event that occurs once every 100 days where the Attraxxii central Moon covers the sun for a whole day, casting red light across the day-side of the world. During this time strange events take place: mutations are more common, aberrations are stronger and can appear from no where, everything becomes a bit more chaotic. When magic is introduce to the world, the Red Eclipse can cause magic to become chaotic and unpredictable.

Two of the Moons are hollowed out for the Avians to roost in, as they were created with a Weave Plane action this costs me nothing to alter them.

End AP: 5

[Toxic Mind]

Kereth was saddened by the violence done to the merfolk, and the deaths it caused. Still he was there, to guide their souls, violently wrenched but separated nonetheless, to the Soul Fields. There were too many for Kereth to guide on his own, and so, out of need, he created shards of himself, that could serve to guide souls as he would. And in that creation, he sent one back to his sisters. He had abandoned them, for other tasks had called. But now, he had no need, and could attend to their guidance without taxing his own Purpose.

Mersahj and Elafriel

Kereth returns, and though little time has passed, it seems that something has changed. Still, it was in Kereth's nature to guide, and so he approached the two. "Forgive me for leaving earlier sister, I had thought myself stretched too thin. Now I have found my solution, and so am able to help you find yours. You cannot live here, even with the light extinguished some of the time?" Kereth looks puzzled. "It is blinding, yes, and ill-suited to guide, for its light is too powerful, but it cannot be endured?"

[Venetian Mask]

The Forge of Sparks
After talking to the god of death Nester decided to retire. He put his finger on the ground and drew a doorway in the air, ground drew up from the earth and formed a portal of earth. He looked through the portal, a satisfied smile on his face. Yes... This will do nicely. The god muttered to himself as he stepped through the portal, the doorway collapsing as soon as he stepped over the treshold.

The god arrived in a forge, heat blasting at him from all sides. The sounds of hammers beating on anvils filled the room and the workshop was lit by the red glare of the fires, tools laid all around Nesters workshop. To work then. The god muttered to himself as he took a few tanned hides from their racks quickly forming them into a sturdy leather apron. He enchanted the apron with some divine power. A worksman without tools is useless, this apron will always carry the tools I need. As the god donned his apron he walked over to another forge.

A god in the Machine
He took out some scraps of metal and began working on a new project. After a few hours hard craft he looked at his creation, satisfied. The creation was a golem of metal, looking like a suit of armor.I will name you Mobius, first of the Autons, Nester spoke, touching the head of the Auton with a single finger. Sparks of all color traveled from his hand to the Auton as it was filled with pure divine essence. The Autons will be my servants, creating the greatest wonders and inspiring the mortals to the greatest heights. They shall be built after your template. As the deity spoke metal in the workshop started stirring and combining to form more golems. Each a bit different depending on the metal they were made from.

A surprised frown formed on the old gods face as he looked at his creation, feeling something familiar. But you, my son, are different, I sense that I may have infested too much of my power in your creation. I sense more than just essence in you, I sense the spark of the divine. The deity stepped back from his kneeling son, offering a single extended hand. Arise, my son, for your spark fills you with much potential. You shan't be my servant, for you are my equal. Accept this blessing my son and join me as one of the Mechanicus, the gods of machines and progress.

With that he holds out a single hand awaiting his son to grasp it.Sparks coalescing around the extended hand in an offer of kinship, an offer of power. A new understanding filled his mind. He was to be a god of crafters and engineers and with that understanding a new domain unlocked for him.

Weave Plane (4): The Forge of Sparks is an ever expanding workshop. There is no outside on this plane and the only light is provided by the blazing fires of the forges. A sound of hammering fills the air and the scent of smoke and melting iron lies heavy on whoever enters. The forge is operated by the Autons.
Create Fabled Life (4): The Autons are the messengers and servants of Nester. They can look like many different things, differing hugely in size and form, but they all have a function in the Forge. They rarely leave this plane, and if they do it is either in the function as messengers between their master and other fabled beings or the gods, or as bearers of inspiration to the mortal races.
Gather Pantheon (2): The Mechanicus is a pantheon of machine gods. The pantheon is open to all who wish to help spread science, technology and rationality. The pantheon is True Neutral like its chief deity accepting any kind of god as long as his goals coincide with those of the pantheon, the furthering of mortal and divine knowledge.
Gain Domain (Engineering (Mechanics)) (3) - From creating the Forge and the Autons Nester has gained a deepened connection with the mechanical and thus gained the domain of Engineering.

14-13=1AP

[Inane Gestures]

Introductions of the being of infinite potential

Mobius looked up at the god. His mouth opening and out came a growl like the sound of machinery, the sound quite fearsome but also just as neutral. Reverential Statement: Mobius, as in the mobius strip. A symbol of the infinite. It brings a metal hand down to its chest feeling the overflowing potential that was inside of him. An appropriate name. Reaching up he grasps his father's hand Respectfully: I shall be one of the Mechanicus. The representative of the hope that technology shall bring, and the potential inside everything. With that Mobius pulls himself up and shakes his fathers hand. Like a hammer striking metal, sparks fly as the bond is made. HesitantlyI fear father that there may come another father, one who represents the opposite of myself. As we both know for every action there is an equal and opposite reaction. While technology can bring great good it can also do evil as well.

Not long afterwards Mobius gets to work. Crafting things in the forge with his father, they make countless Autons and other devices that would bring the gods to envy in their complexity and use. All the while Mobius thought about his father and the world below. After some time the Artificial God approached his father, flanked by two autons. Dutiful Statement: I have spent much time in the Sparkforge, I know it's workings inside and out. With certainty: were you to ask me to I would be able to draw the complex with no mistake, so well do I know it. Apologetically: Today I will be leaving the forge, I feel myself drawn to the world of the mortals and I know that someday the potential inside me will keep me from entering their plane. Matter of fact statement I will be taking Zero and ONe with me. Informatively: They have made voice their desire to follow me. I have agreed that they may follow me and experience the realm of man. With that the god turns from his father and leaves, walking through the Sparkforge, till he comes to the door made long ago and just as long forgotten, and walks through it.


The Journey of the Nameless Automaton or The beginning of the great port city of Klein

The door that Mobius walked through was a peculiar one of sorts, it sensed the god's desire and transported him to where he asked: the plane of man. It was through this that a Shepard saw a large door appear in a field and out walked three large metal men...or could they be three giants in heavy armor? The Shepard did not know nor did he wait to find out, for these were no doubt more demons brought about by the red moon and he ran off back to the village he called home, praying to whatever god would listen.

The god stood at the portal, looking at the new environment. It was not made mostly of metal as the long halls and gangplanks of the Sparkforge were, it was organic the floors made of dirt the walls composed of nothing but air, for there were no walls, and unlike the Sparkforge it was lit by a large burning light that hung in the sky. All this he took in while sheep bleated around him. Then he began to walk, a steady rhythmic pace. He moved without tire for unlike others he needn't eat nor rest no matter how long he traveled, and his servants were the same. So they walked creation, taking everything in and observing what man had made. Those brave enough would travel with the trio for it didn't take long for word to spread of the metal men who traveled the land. Those that traveled with him were under his protection and would find themselves safe from those that would prey on them for as long as they could keep up with the god.

Eventually he made his way to the ocean and without pause he walked into the sea and there he traveled, not needing air. He walked along the floor of the ocean, observing the creations of mer. He found them wanting for it seemed as though his father had forgotten of them. This troubled him for they were far more scarce than man, it seemed some tragedy had befallen them dwindling their numbers and plaguing them with a monstrous foe. He continued onward till he reached an inlet off the coast of one of the countries of man and near one of the blighted cities of the mer.

Turning to his followers the machine god spoke for the first time in his journey. Mournful Realization: The mer are plagued by abominations and the humans live in fear of the red moon. Determined Statement: With technology they can be protected and with unity they can be saved. Regretfully: In our current states we too frighten them. therefore we must change as well.

Mobius turned to Zero and removed its legs. He fused them together to form a tail, then stripped its chest of parts that were unnecessary streamlining it With the excess parts he made tanks for ballast and put them inside the rebuilt Auton. Lastly he moved to the Auton's face modifying it into that of the merfolk. Stern Command: Zero you are to go to the city of the merfolk nearby and tell them of this inlet. Tell them that it is a place presided over by a god that will bring man and mer together. With that Zero left the inlet.

Mobius then turned to ONe. The Auton already resembled that of a man but too tall. The Artificial God quickly made the slight adjustments needed and cut the auton down to a more reasonable size. In the process he remodeled her body to closer resemble that of a womans and less that of the autons back at the sparkforge. Comforting remark:There ONe your appearance closer resembles that of a woman. Stern Command: Go to the nearby kingdom of man and tell them that here they may seek shelter from the red moon in the shadow of a god, and that the sea will contain allies against what might come from there as it will also be the home of the Mer. With that ONe left as well to deliver her message to the city of man.

After Zero and ONe had left Mobius looked to the land, compartments opened in his chassis and out came hordes innumerable of tiny machines they blanketed the land and the sea floor and quickly they changed it. First they raised a pillar underneath Mobius raising him out of the ocean. Then they cut a pass into the mountain surrounding the inlet and flattened the surrounding earth and fertilizing it. Then they changed the parts under the water changing the landscape to allow for the dwellings of the merfolk to reside. The minuscule machines worked fast and tirelessly forming the land into an area that seemed empty for lack of a city. As the work was finished the ocean of machines swarmed back into the gods body.

Not long had he finished than when his faithful servants returned followed by the first of what would eventually form the city of Klein. Mobius just stood there on a pillar watching as the city grew up around him. Taking two last deific acts before he took his rest, first he blessed the city and its inhabitants and then with a thought a spark rose out of his chest and burst over the city infusing itself with the land and the buildings and the people. With that he felt tired for the first time in his existence, he'd put his all into protecting these people, he could feel something welling up inside of him. But he was far too tired to let it blossom.

Over time a city formed around what the people believed to be the statue of the god involved. The City of Klein as it became known, a place where one could find protection. The Autons Zero and ONe guarded the city and helped the people build for as their master rested they would need to do their part in furthering his divine work.


15-1=14 Joined a pantheon
14-8=6 Create Heroes (Zero and ONe)
6-1=5 Alter Land
5-1=4 Blessing
4-2=2 Form Society
2-2=0 Divine Infusion
The blessing bestowed upon the city of Klein, puts the inhabitants under the divine protection of Mobius as well as having the side effect of increasing the potential of the individuals who live there or call the place home. As a side effect though those that live in the city always seem to have a bit of a monotone though.

[Xunthrae]

Mersahj Looked upon her sister kindly. She could understand her frustration. If the seas had been reduced she would be furious at the culprit too, so maybe a compromise can be made.

"Sister, you could move away from this sun-baked part of the world and into the unlit other side, where the fire does not shine upon creation. Or we can spite the creator and make the world spin to create a cycle of light and dark. Also to create a place more suited for you we can create polar regions in the north and south, I could use the currents in the oceans and you the winds in the sky to move the heat away from those regions. Together with our combined powers we can become greater. "

Mersahj spoke with Ealfriel in one form, while delving to the deepest parts of the ocean in another.

She is searching for a powerful natural creature. One to base an idea off of. Other gods are creating their guardians and warriors, why shouldn't she? Mersahj looked at the swift fish, as well as the solitary sharks. None would do. She wants behemoths of her own, creatures which epitomize the destruction and power of ocean storms. She takes a strand of light from her head and weaves it into a massive form. She gifts upon them magic, granting them dominion the over storms and disasters of the oceans. Leviathan. That is what they are. They will be a mere six strong, but powerful.

"Go my heralds. Be not afraid of weaker creatures, you shall be the wrath of the seas incarnate. Protect my first born, that is your duty."

After commanding her Leviathan's to go, she notices there was an extra being created when she made her most Sacred being. A kind of -thing- made of a watery substance.

"Curious thing you are. Who are you, my child? I've yet to see a creation as odd as you, yet."




AP=8
Create Fabled Life: 6 Leviathan's (-4)
Bestow Magical Concept onto leviathan: Storm magic (-3)
Current AP: 1

[mystic1110]

Does the darkest night think that it is dark? It is not dark, there are the stray lights in the sky, the fires of hearths and most importantly the lack of pressure.

Do you know what true darkness is?

It is the fathoms at the very bottom of the sea bed. Where light does not go, not because it is blocked by roof or branch, but because it simply cannot reach. Light tries though. It wades through the surface, into baby blue green waters. It swims deeper, but loses some of itself as it dives down into richer hues of blue. Eventually the light has been stripped, torn, abused, reduced to a meager strand of what it once was. And it is still blue. Blue as dark as black, but blue nonetheless. At this point the light looks down, or where it thinks down is. There is still far far to go to reach the bottom.

The light at this point makes a choice: it either gives up and swims back to the surface, trying in vain to breath fresh air; or, it dives yet deeper, trying, trying to reach the bottom. And the light dies.

The water above crushing it, fracturing it, till it is nothing. And in this absolute darkness Leviathan stirred. Great beasts of water, great serpents of fish flesh, who swam in the great depths with the ease that a man might walk on the earth. The weight of water forged them into titans who, if they so chose, could tear into continental wall the same way smaller fish dug into sand. And yet, they too were not the very bottom of the ocean. They were born only on the very edge of the great crevasse which scored the ocean bed. They were mere serpents - creatures of flesh and blood, cold flesh and cold blood, but flesh and blood regardless.

No. . . on the very bottom of the ocean, was a river.

It scored through the seawater like water scores through earth, carving it out to twist and turn. Even though their was no color here, for light had long since fled or died, the river was a richer black. And, even though the weight of the ocean above would have reduced a mountain into silt, the river was denser still. It was water made solid. Not like ice which is water, this was just more water with less space. The river was an ocean in of itself but within a river. An ocean in the form of a river which slept on the bottom of the ocean.

And the river stirred.

Mersahj, who floated above the river, would have seen it stir slightly. The river stretched for miles so the river's end, which rose first, rose leagues away from the Goddess. The river scored through the ocean, pushing water away from itself. The river was heavier than the ocean, but it still rose, and spiraled in around itself. A slow task, that took hours if not days. By the time the head made its way to the Goddess. . . the tail still did not appear. The river stretched far. The Goddess would have faced what was not quite a face. Here in the darkness of the ocean the only thing that allowed one to see was divinity. The goddess would have seen what could have been interpreted as a head. There was what could have been eyes. . . where the jelly form of the river was more roundish than the rest of the gelatinous ouroboros. There could have been fangs jutting out of its face could have been said to be a maw. But most of all the Goddess would have noticed the size of the beast - it's face was a mucilaginous mountain.

A line appeared in the viscid river, as it tried to open its mouth. Like fruit torn apart, the motion sprayed orbs of ooze, each gigantic in their own way, forward. The line was now a chasm, the river having made itself part inside to make room for a palace. Then the chasm closed as it spoke - sending more globs of dense spittle in the goddesses direction.

I am the river on the bottom of the sea.

It spoke slowly as though thoughts came to it as suddenly as tar drips down from a glass. No emotion could be read into it, for . . . the face was a crude approximation of a face.

The globs of jelly-like pieces that were dislodged by the monumental task of talking, began to sink back to the river - like water droplets drawn to water - they were drawn back into the ooze. The river seemed to wait for a response, but then reconsidered, and spoke again, repeating the process of dislocation and recapture.

I am Yooo.

[Toxic Mind]

Kereth saw the greatness of the mortal races, even as he ferried their souls to the afterlife. They were filled with vigor and drive, and their paths spread before them, each a radiant light before Kereth's eyes. It was glorious.

Kereth resolved that he would create a race of his own. Their purpose, however, would be far more set. As the world changed and grew, they would wander, learn, and guide. Kereth's Lantern would not touch them for many life-cycles of mortals. They would die, in time, but each one would save countless other lives before his or her time, either through knowledge, or skill with weapons.

Kereth created a shard next to himself, to bind his work together. Four hands were better than two. And as the two Kereth's shaped the new race, they found it lacking. They could create a mortal race with ease, but such a base creation was not what Kereth sought. And so he laid open his own palm, and let a single drop of blood fall onto the mortal race before him. Kereth knew that this would be what he sought. But something was wrong. Kereth felt no connection to the shard beside him. It was then he noticed that the sun shown red. The eclipse had come, and when Kereth spilled his own blood, it had severed the connection to his shard. The shard that was no longer Kereth looked at him. Even now, it's features changed subtly, and before Kereth's eyes, a new god was born.

Kereth thought the process of awakening fully would take some time, and turned back to his race. Even now, they stood, and looked to him for guidance. "You are the Wayfinders. Formed of the ash of a traveler's campfire and the blood of the Guide, you will travel the earth, and the sea. You will find safe ways, and keep safe the other mortals. And after many lifetimes, I will call you to my arms with great joy. Go forth, and take heed. For you shall never settle in one place, but there is no loss in this, for through your life you will find many companions, and you will never want, for you are my children." Kereth smiled as the Wayfinders left, each moving in a different direction. They would explore the world, and if new worlds were made, they would chart those as well. They would be the light of Kereth made flesh.

Kereth looked to the god beside him. More distinct, but still too much remained of him to be changed. Kereth had time. And so as he had before, he reached out his arms to the blackness above, and around the moons he created light. Small pinpricks, they would be ever shadowed by the bright burning orb, but Kereth knew that such blinding light would not remain stationary. So he fixed his beacons to the planet. If it moved, so too would the beacons move. Kereth knew that the Wayfinders, and the other mortal races, would use these Beacons to guide themselves across the world. Even when the Light of his Lantern was nowhere to be found, mortals could look to the heavens and see Kereth's Beacons, lighting their path.

It was done. Kereth turned to the new god, finally it's own being. "Greetings, young one. I am Kereth, Guide of the Lost. You are created from me, but you are not me. What are you called?"


3: Create Magical Race (Wayfinders) ever nomadic mortals, they travel the world, drawn to mystery and adventure. They live roughly 1000 years, and are drawn to helping and guiding other mortal races.
4: Create Plane (Kereth's Beacons - Stars) fixed to the rotation of the planet, these beacons can serve as guidepoints for navigators

Both AP falls under (Guidance) Navigation

Also, Illium is now in!

[MichaelGoldclaw]

Before the eclipse, The humans of Galvast started hauling stone, shaping it into bricks, and building more suitable buildings. THe main task is the Castle. The framework for the Castle is there and some of the stone as well.

When the eclipse hit, people ran to safety and started praying to Aleru. Aleru then said to Domi. "Excuse me for a moment, humanity needs aid." She then shifted planes and once she saw the problem, she raised her sword up hight and then a beam of light streached forth. It then spread out into the shape of a dome, surrounding the land Galvastia had claim. She then returned to her brother.

"A simple solution. Now I would like to make a pantheon between all gods of good in order to protect and spread benevolence. What say you?"
7-6= 1
Bless: A dome of light surrounds Galvastia during an eclipse. The dome of light prevents all harm that the eclipse brings.

Advanced concept: Masonry

Pantheon: The Light - A group of gods deticated to doing good whenever and however they can. They have a few rules to this


Never kill one who is fighting for good.
Help prevent the spread of evil
When a dispute arises amongst members that needs to be settled, a trial must be held. Whether it's a trial by combat, wit, jury, or something else is decided by the offended.

[Dorian Gray]

Dark green eyes peer around, looking down at the dirt that covers the land, staring at the piercing light of the stars. Dust begins to swirl, a wind springing up unbidden to blow a dirty brown mess of hair forward into a face darkened by sun. Around Kereth's wanderers, the trees bend, and the web of deer trails widens, the land becoming firmer under feet wrapped in dark brown boots. One hand, long and thin, but heavily calloused, reaches up, feeling the bitterly cold breeze.

As a new god opens his mouth for the first time, the dust sifting down through the reddish light of the moon takes on an amber-like hue, like a river of gold flowing through the air. In a rich, sonorous voice that echos in harmony with itself, the god speaks. "I am what was forgotten, and what will be remembered. I am the great city whose walls grow taller in memory, the prophecy waiting to be fulfilled. I am what never was, what cannot be, and what will exist only in the wildest imaginations of the insane. I am the Story Once Heard. I am the Speaker of Memories. I am Illium."

A deep belly laugh is heard, perhaps for the first time ever. The wind subsides, and the sound of guffaws echos through the surrounding land, and possibly over the entire world. "Now, that's a decent way to start, isn't it? Nice and pretentious, but I'll see if I can't live up to it."

Illium gazes up at the sky, committing the scene to memory. "You know, they'll probaby talk about this for a while. In the beginning... and all that."

The corners of the god's mouth quirk upwards. "It does look awfully nice, but it could use a bit more... something."

With a wave of Illium's hand, the sky begins to shift and swirl. The stars change their positions, forming strange shapes. In the distance, waves of color swirl under a silvery band. Illium lets out another laugh. "I wonder what they'll think it all means."

1: Create Concept (Guided Travel): People can now navigate by the stars!
4: Create Artifact: Aurora. It's the Aurora! Fun colors!
Remaining Points: 10

[Mynxae]

The Edge of the Great Forest of Aetherys

Aetherys skulked amongst the saplings on the outer edge of his forest with a pair of young Wood Walkers. As they crept closer and closer to the open grasslands, he saw an abomination. There were rows and rows of plants, tended by what he gleaned was a human by reading its mind. The Wood Walkers dove into the ground and sprung up on either side of the human, trapping his arms and preventing escape.

Aetherys prowled into view of the human who shook in terror and screamed for his mate. He got up on his hind legs and turned into his humanoid form. He shifted his right arm into a blade and held it up to the throat of the human. "You are an abomination and here is your JUSTICE!" Aetherys thundered as he slashed the throat of the human. It's eyes went wide with shock as it fell to the ground twitching, blood pouring everywhere as the Wood Walkers went back to the forest. But as this happened, Aetherys sensed two divine beings pour out from him, one on the ground in front of him and one coming from the rude hut nearby from where wails of grief could be heard from the human's female mate.

The god himself fell to the ground twitching with agony as he felt godly power flowing out of him into these two new beings. "WHO ARE YOU TO STEAL MY ESSENCE?" he screamed in anguish.

[Arcran]

The blood pools out, gallons upon gallons of it, far more than the fragile meatsack the humans called a body could have ever possibly held. It pools out, running over rocks and up trees until finally it begins to make a great pool that slowly rises, a body forming slowly. It isn't a beautiful body or even a passable one; everything about it is ugly. Thick, squat legs that put the god close to the ground, a massive torso covered in slabs of muscle, long arms that reach down to the waist that seem more like trunks of trees than actual arms. Worst of all is the face: flat, covered in rolls of leathery flesh, small, pink, beady eyes and a massive flat forehead with a bone plate protruding outwards. The smile completes it. Far gone is a happy grin of a god taking their first step upon the world. No, this look is different. A vicious, cruel smirk on a lopsided mouth that contributes only by making the god uglier and perhaps slightly crazier.

The god, completely nude save for his greyish green hide, turns and grins even more widely as he sees the corpse. When he sees the other god writhing on the ground, flailing like some great fish his already enormous grin threatens to split his face in twain. Short legs working vigorously, in a few steps the towering god stands over his progenitor.

"Artoran," he says simply, glaring down at the frail god, considering smashing it then and now. "Why did you slay that man?" he asks, waiting for the answer. In all honesty he hopes for an answer of simply a need to kill. A kindred spirit would be nice, one who's spirit was full of rage and anger.

In all likelihood that god had killed the human. That means they have something in common. They both love the taste of blood.

[Toxic Mind]

Kereth felt the soul of the man, tainted by the fury and anger. And so when Kereth came, to guide the human's soul onward, he saw the new gods, and the elder, writhing on the ground. The first of the new boss was a creature of blood and fury, and Kereth could feel it radiating off of him in waves. The human soul was incensed, but Kereth showed him the divine spark within the house. The human knew his mate was alive, and that was enough. He went willingly into the Lantern, and as the light faded, Kereth regarded the new god. So many. The one formed of his own spark, and now two from the one called Aetherys.

Kereth saw the god writhing on the ground, but ignored him. There was no pity on his eyes. Aetherys had taken the life of a human for little more than a whim. Kereth could not punish the god, but neither would he help him. "New one, I am Kereth. Your path lies in blood and battle, but that is not the only road for you I see. Created from violence, but you are a god. Your destiny is yours to shape, for better or worse. "

[Arcran]

"Really?" Artoran chuckles. "And what other path do you see? What path that is not droll and lifeless? Well, I suppose the other is lifeless as well, but it's a good lifeless..." Artoran muses to himself aloud, guttural voice slurring the occasional word. "Give me one good reason to not do as I will with the puppets upon this world and perhaps I will listen."

[Croverus]

The Beast Inside (Is right beneath the skin)

Another 100 days had passed and again the moon passed before the sun, casting another crimson light upon the world. The Red Eclipse washed over a dome of light, its human population safe. Seeking more to change, Attroxxii's gaze fell upon a small human settlement away from the others, isolated deep in the woods. As the light touched them, Attroxxi spoke once more, channeling his divine power through the light of the eclipse.

"MANKIND WALKS TALL AND PROUD, THINK THEMSELVES BETTER THAN BEAST;
WORKING THE LANDS, GATHERING FOOD, THEY SEEM TO ENJOY A FEAST.
NEW FLESH THIS ONE BRINGS, NEW CLAWS AND TEETH, AND WITH IT A TASTE FOR FLESH;
WHEN THE RED LIGHT DAWNS THEIR CHANGE SHINES THROUGH, THE INSIDE AND OUTSIDE MESH.
THEY WILL LOSE THEMSELVES, ON THIS ONE DAY, FOR EVERY TEN SCORE THAT PASS;
THE OTHER MEN THEY WILL HATE AND FEED ON, IT IS THEIR GOAL TO HARASS.
THIS ONE NAMES THEM AN ABERRATION, THE RED BEAST, FAST AND STRONG;
THROUGH BITE AND CLAW THEIR CURSE WILL SPREAD, ONLY SILVER WILL KILL THEM FOR LONG."

The light washed over their village and they found their skin warp and split, fur sprouting on their bodies as their faces warped into the shapes of twisted muzzles and beaks. Claws and griping tendrils grew on their hands and they let out cries of pain and anger as the red light filled their mind and gave them a thirst for blood. Those that were not changed were attacked and killed, while those that did ran into the woods, some fleeing their pain or the horror that they became. As the Eclipse ended, these being warped back into normal human-like shapes, but knew that no matter where they went they were now cursed to transform every eclipse into the aberrations they'd become in its light. And so the Red Beast were formed. Most scattered through out the world, isolating themselves during the Red Eclipse to try and avoid passing the curse on to others, while some would actively indulge their new forms, hunting those they saw as lesser.

Striking tendrils deep into the mountains, veins of silver were created, and the material would prove baneful to creatures created by the Red Eclipses light. Attraxxii was indifferent to the new creations it made, as it had been with the Locathah. They were new, different, that was enough. For now it examined the Avians, taking one within its central eye and exposing the Avian to this one's raw power.

Starting AP: 5

Create Magical Life 3: Red Beasts, the first of theses were humans cursed by the Red Eclipse, and they spread their curse by claw and bite, as well as passing it on to any offspring they have. The Curse manifests at puberty under the light of the Red Eclipse, transforming the accursed into a malformed beast with tendrils and claws and a jaw full of teeth or a beak, their body covered in tufts of fur. The change lasts until the eclipse ends, an happens again for every eclipse after. They can survive incredible wounds, but silver burns them just to touch and a silver weapon can kill them with ease. When not under the light of the Red Eclipse they look like any other human being.

Create Advanced concept 2: Silver metal - this shiny and valuable material is slightly softer than normal building metals and harder to find. Other than its shine though, the only other qualities it has is that it is a bane to Red Beasts and other creatures created from a Red Eclipse, making itself valuable for battling these creatures.

Remaining AP: 0

I've now created 2 aggressive monster races, a concept of tides and the lunar cycle, the red eclipse and the moons, and a metal made for fighting monsters.

[Inane Gestures]

The proclamation of Mobius
It had been many years since The God in the Machine had created his city. Klein had grown fast as Mer and Man had made their homes surrounding him. But as he stared out at his city he knew that it would stagnate if it did not grow with the times and though these people had been blessed with a portion of the infinite potential inside him they would need more than that to flourish. And so he moved for the first time in generations, the humans and the mer surprised when the statue that greeted all those who entered the city stirred. It need not call for its champions for they felt the gods summons.

Grave request: Zero. One. The city has grown well in your care, though now it begins to stagnate. One of you must journey forth, I feel that there is more out there. More knowledge that may help this city continue in its march of progress. I alone cannot provide the advancements needed. This means that one of you must leave while the other stays to guard the city. While the other will visit the the other cities of man and learn what they have to offer. Stern Command:One you are my servent most attuned with man, it shall be you who leaves the city. Find what is needed, you are my envoy your word holds my authority. Let my blessing and the blessings of the people people of klein protect you.

Then Mobius turned to his other hero. Serious Command: And you Zero shall be the sword and shield of this city. You shall protect this city from those who would wish it harm. Teach the people of this city to defend themselves for they cannot do it alone. For this task you must be suited for combat on land, in water, and in air. As I stood here watching my city I have witnessed that there are other races, one of which lives in the moon and flies with great feathered wings. As he spoke mobius pulled his hero from the water and began changing him, augmenting his legs so that they may once again form feet when he was on land but change back into a tail in the water he also took the spare parts from when he had changed the height of One and used them to give the Auton wings. Wonderously You will be as them, home in the sky but also the air and on land. With this I give you my blessings as the protector of this city. Final Command Now go, your jobs have been given.

With that the god once again stood up straight and crossed its arms and ceased to move silently observing the city once more.

The Journeys of the Hero One: The quest of stone

One left the city as she had been ordered. She had experienced the world before in her masters great journey, but it had changed much since the last time she had left the city to offer shelter to the humans. They had built out and formed farms, they had created more tools and formed small towns. Even more so they no longer feared the sight of her when she passed through their communities. There were more though, she saw as her master described winged creatures flying through the sky. She wondered if her brother would master the sky as well as they had.

Eventually her travels led her to a city made of stone, she saw a city of a size that might have rivaled her home. She saw something most peculiar here though, a giant building made of stone. She diverted her travels immediatly.

She made her way through the city towards its center, ignoring the stares of humans she passed. As she made her way through the city she saw that the building was not yet finished and that the humans for all their ingenuity lacked the strength that her and Zero had brought to Kleine and thus the process was slow going. What would have taken her and her brother a week was taking the humans far longer.

As she was approached the castle walls, for that was what the humans called it. She was stopped by the guards at its gates. Demanding to know who she was and what business she had with the king. Authoritative Demand: I am the envoy of the Holy city of Kleine, I speak with the authority granted to me by my god, Mobius, the God in the Machine. I am here on a mission of import and I wish to speak to the one who rules this city, be they god or be they mortal.

Balls in your court Mr. Michaelgoldclaw, my heroes in your city asking to speak to its ruler.

[ShadowFireLance]

Blood slowly ran from the squirming deity as she writhed upon the ground, slowly adjusting to this new thing known as 'existance.' She shook, as the grief of the fallen human seeped into her, almost as if it was her raw energy. She forced herself to stand, weak legs barely holding her up, and took her first breath. She blinked, dark blue eyes seeing for the first time.
She was about to speak, but when she thought as if to do so, she knew not what words to use, preferring to instead listen. Slowly backing away from the obvious fight about to erupt, Vora, for that is her name, held herself up against the tree, waiting to see what would happen.

[Mynxae]

The blood pools out, gallons upon gallons of it, far more than the fragile meatsack the humans called a body could have ever possibly held. It pools out, running over rocks and up trees until finally it begins to make a great pool that slowly rises, a body forming slowly. It isn't a beautiful body or even a passable one; everything about it is ugly. Thick, squat legs that put the god close to the ground, a massive torso covered in slabs of muscle, long arms that reach down to the waist that seem more like trunks of trees than actual arms. Worst of all is the face: flat, covered in rolls of leathery flesh, small, pink, beady eyes and a massive flat forehead with a bone plate protruding outwards. The smile completes it. Far gone is a happy grin of a god taking their first step upon the world. No, this look is different. A vicious, cruel smirk on a lopsided mouth that contributes only by making the god uglier and perhaps slightly crazier.

The god, completely nude save for his greyish green hide, turns and grins even more widely as he sees the corpse. When he sees the other god writhing on the ground, flailing like some great fish his already enormous grin threatens to split his face in twain. Short legs working vigorously, in a few steps the towering god stands over his progenitor.

"Artoran," he says simply, glaring down at the frail god, considering smashing it then and now. "Why did you slay that man?" he asks, waiting for the answer. In all honesty he hopes for an answer of simply a need to kill. A kindred spirit would be nice, one who's spirit was full of rage and anger.

In all likelihood that god had killed the human. That means they have something in common. They both love the taste of blood.


Blood slowly ran from the squirming deity as she writhed upon the ground, slowly adjusting to this new thing known as 'existance.' She shook, as the grief of the fallen human seeped into her, almost as if it was her raw energy. She forced herself to stand, weak legs barely holding her up, and took her first breath. She blinked, dark blue eyes seeing for the first time.
She was about to speak, but when she thought as if to do so, she knew not what words to use, preferring to instead listen. Slowly backing away from the obvious fight about to erupt, Vora, for that is her name, held herself up against the tree, waiting to see what would happen.

The Fields of Blood

Aetherys' form wavered and disappeared, a mere illusion to trick the divine who may have meant him harm. Meanwhile, himself and a shard of himself appeared, one behind Artoran and another behind the Goddess over by the tree, both with his arm transformed into a blade at their throats.

To the Goddess, he growled into her ear threateningly "Who are you and why have you sapped my essence?". But to the one who called himself Artoran, he merely muttered angrily "I did it because I could. He decided to destroy nature with his blasted civilisation, so I came to destroy it as well as all he loved, to teach him a lesson and to take my vengeance".

[Xealot7]

Domi


Before the eclipse, The humans of Galvast started hauling stone, shaping it into bricks, and building more suitable buildings. THe main task is the Castle. The framework for the Castle is there and some of the stone as well.

When the eclipse hit, people ran to safety and started praying to Aleru. Aleru then said to Domi. "Excuse me for a moment, humanity needs aid." She then shifted planes and once she saw the problem, she raised her sword up hight and then a beam of light streached forth. It then spread out into the shape of a dome, surrounding the land Galvastia had claim. She then returned to her brother.

"A simple solution. Now I would like to make a pantheon between all gods of good in order to protect and spread benevolence. What say you?"
7-6= 1
Bless: A dome of light surrounds Galvastia during an eclipse. The dome of light prevents all harm that the eclipse brings.

Advanced concept: Masonry

Pantheon: The Light - A group of gods deticated to doing good whenever and however they can. They have a few rules to this


Never kill one who is fighting for good.
Help prevent the spread of evil
When a dispute arises amongst members that needs to be settled, a trial must be held. Whether it's a trial by combat, wit, jury, or something else is decided by the offended.



Domi smiles to his sister. "Of course I will join with you in this Holy Endeavor. Where ever Evil seeks to spread its wings, so too shall we be there to stop it."

To MichaelGoldClaw Only: When you confront Aetherys', Domi will be at your side, and none too please. I will not steal your thunder. Just when you do, the Guardians will move to stand guard over your humans permanently.

Actions: -1AP Join Pantheon - The Light
6/15AP Remaining.

[Arcran]

Artoran lets out a great guffaw as the beast appears behind him with a blade at his throat.

"We'll get along nicely, you and I," he says, swinging an arm back at the god who dares to threaten his life, attempting to fling them away from him with a quick blow. "However, you do not understand how to truly take part in destruction. Wait, and I will show you," Artoran says with a mad grin.

[Venetian Mask]

An Apprenticeship, Ended
As the determined voice of his child spoke to him Nester nodded thoughtfully. My child, you were always free to leave this workshop, free to pursue your own goals. Take whatever you need for your journey to the mortal plane. But know this, the doors of the Forge shall always be opened to you, and should you require aid you need only ask. A single teardrop rolled down the fathers cheek. A tear of sadness at the departure of this loyal companion, but also of pride, his son had finally blossomed into adulthood, and was ready for whatever the Fates would demand of him.

The Mechanicus and the Light
As the pantheon of the Light gets formed an unarmed silvered golem materializes at a respectable distance from the deities. It bends the knee as it speaks to the two with a polite, yet obviously metallic voice Lady Aleru, Lord Domi. The Chief of the Mechanicus, Nester, would like to request an audience if it conveniences you.

A Scion of Gold
A hundred years had past in Tommen's Hollow, the town where once Nester had inspired a human inventor to discover tools. It had given the man prosperity and wealth beyond counting, but not even the wealthiest can live forever. One day Kereth takes his final dues and guides the mortals to travel their last road. Tommen had married a beautiful wife and with her had many a child, fair Lisa, strong Marc, and the wise Eric. Their family was rich and each had earned their own story. Lisa had married a lesser lord in Castle Galvast, the fierce Marc would become a sworn sword of the lords of Galvast.

Eric, the eldest, stayed with his father, learning the craft and occasionally receiving inspirations from Forge. He brought his family much renown and much wealth but his spirit was soon carried away by the Guide as well. He left a single son, Rand of the Hollow, a crafty man, creative in his own right, but not an inventor. Rand was a savvy bussinesman, who turned his fathers workshop in a small empire of factories across Galvast. The factories provided many an invention to the children of man and earned this last scion many a golden coin. More and more gold did Rand collect, and the more he collected, the more of it he wanted. He started dressing in fabrics woven from gold itself and started adorning himself with the rarest gemstones he could find.

Soon rumors spread that this Rand fellow wasn't even human, he was some sort of construct, a Golem, or an Auton, created by the gods themselves. And as the stories grew wilder Rand started to get a few worshippers, believers who thought this man was no mere mortal, but a being infused with true divinity. The Fates truly work in mysterious and mischievous ways for as his adoration grew, so too grew his spark, his divine power, until he was noticed by the man who had once uplifted his grandfather. And so Nester departed his workshop to find this mysterious scion to whom he felt an instant connection.

The doors of Rand's magnificent house burst open, as the figure of a wizened old man walked into his home, flanked by two knights in bright shining silver armor. The knights were imposing, but Rand instantly knew that the true power was this unassuming man standing in front of him. With a few quick steps Nester reached the man pulling him closer to him. Yes, yes. I certainly see the family resemblance. You truly are a scion of Tommen, the first Inventor. The old man sounded friendly and Rand quickly felt at ease in the companionship of the old deity. You may not have noticed it, my dear boy. But you are outgrowing the mortal coil and you're outgrowing it fast. I have come from the Forges to offer you a boon no mortal has yet received. I am offering you a choice. You can choose to remain mortal, stay on this plane, rich and content, but doomed in your mortality. Or you can join me and my brethren, becoming a true god of Men and all Mortal kind.


What say you, my son?

The wizened god took a step back, extending his hand to the man. A pool of sparks started to form in his extended hand as Nester offered the man a choice beyond any others. To join him as a god, or to stay as a mortal.

[MichaelGoldclaw]

"Excelent. Then I-" Aleru stops. she felt a lone prayer, but an important one none the less. It was Save me from the ones who killed my wife. "Come with me, I heard a cry for help. A dire one." she turns to the newcommer "one moment." Aleru teleported to the earth, and found dead woman near three gods, one with blood on his blade. Aleru unsheath hers and a helmet appeared on her "Why did you kill her?" she asked furiously

[Xealot7]

Domi and Lady Aleru confront Aetherys:

The Lawbringer teleports to stand beside his sister, the Queen of Chivalry. By the time he arrives his anger has taken over. He says nothing, but is rather menacing with his sword drawn and covered with adamantine armor from head to toe. "Yes, why did you kill her?" ask Domi, with only slightly less venom and anger than Lady Aleru.

[Croverus]

Attraxxii takes notice of the gathering of the gods, its eyes hovering above them in the sky, looking down as it silently waited for what came next. A battle between gods would surely be an interesting sight to behold and he had such a wonderful view. His cool purple light fell upon them, and silently he whispered into the ear of each deity.

"THE OTHER GODS WANT YOUR POWER, PICK YOUR ALLIES AND YOUR SHIELD;
RAISE YOUR MIGHT AGAINST THEM QUICKLY, FORCE THEM ALL TO YIELD.
NOW IS YOUR CHANCE, SIEZE THE MOMENT, PROVE YOU'RE STRONGEST OF ALL;
MAKE THEM FOLLOW YOUR LEAD, BEFORE THEY PLOT FOR YOU TO FALL."

Attoxxii was neither pleased nor saddened by what was soon to come, it simply wanted change, and a battle between gods would certainly cause a lot of it.

[Mynxae]

"Excelent. Then I-" Aleru stops. she felt a lone prayer, but an important one none the less. It was Save me from the ones who killed my wife. "Come with me, I heard a cry for help. A dire one." she turns to the newcommer "one moment." Aleru teleported to the earth, and found dead woman near three gods, one with blood on his blade. Aleru unsheath hers and a helmet appeared on her "Why did you kill her?" she asked furiously


Domi and Lady Aleru confront Aetherys:

The Lawbringer teleports to stand beside his sister, the Queen of Chivalry. By the time he arrived his anger has taken over. He says nothing, but is rather menacing with his sword drawn and covered with adamantine armor from head to toe. "Yes, why did you kill her?" ask Domi, with only slightly less venom and anger than Lady Aleru.

The Field of Blood

Nature's Wrath merely laughed an evil cackle at these two Good deities. "Why? Because I could. Why else?" he said as he stood over the corpses of the man, the woman and their child. Just as a precaution, he raised his arms up as he was encased in stone armour that was an inch thick but still flexible from his divine will, his blade transforming to stone as well. Ten Wood Walkers nearby felt the danger and appeared beside their master.

[Arcran]

"Because we could," Artoran states, turning to blood and flowing away, seeking a village.


---------

In a small town south of where the slaughter had occured, two brothers were foraging for food, living off the land. One, the elder, was having far more success, the makeshift basket overflowing with bounty.

The younger didn't mind. When they returned to their village both would eat equally. After all, they were brothers.

But what if he keeps it for himself?

The thought had entered and left the man's mind like a ghost, leaving little trace. They were brothers, they cared for one another. Neither had eaten while the other had starved. They starved together, but they lived.

Why should you starve? Why not take what is yours by right?

The man frowned. Why was it his? Why should it be his?

Because you are stronger. You can take it.

Finally, the man smiles. Slowly he picks up a rock, striding towards his brother.

When the deed was done, the man grabbed a fruit. However, when he bit down instead of a soft fruit only a hard gem was there. A beautiful, mesmerizing gem. And it was all his.


---------

The next day a small child awoke in the village, going outside to greet the day. However, when he does, he is met by a grisly sight.

The whole village was dead, every man, woman and child. As the child walked through the village he came across a broken, bloody man clutching a beautiful, mesmerizing gem. The man weezes softly, lifeblood pouring out.

Without a second thought the child lifts his foot, pushing it down on the throat of the dying man. When the light fades from the man's eyes, the child takes the gem. The beautiful, mesmerizing gem.


---------

Through it all, Artoran smiles. Moving the man to kill his brother had been surprisingly easy. Now he'd always be a whisper in the minds of man. Why was that not your land? Your food? Your woman?

The gem had been a stroke of genius. When the man returned everyone had desired it and had been willing to kill with whatever they had on hand. Blood flowed like water through the streets. Rivers that all flowed towards Artoran, rising up into the air into his hand, forming his own weapon. A thick, twisted, ugly axe with only one purpose.

His work done, Artoran returns to the clearing, a perverted grin on his face.

"I have given your race the greatest gift they could ever recieve. You're welcome," he says with a bow, still completely naked. "Now leave feeble god or exact your justice."

Artoran heard the whispers but, frankly, he did not need an excuse to act.

Starting: 15

1 - Introduce Concept (Murder). Mankind now realizes that most often the easiest way to get something is to take it through murder.
4 - Create Relic (Wonderous Gem). All who see this gem are driven to kill the current owner and take it for themselves. This is everybody; man, mermaid, ent.
4 - Create Artifact (Drinker). Artoran's thick, heavy axe. His personal sigil and weapon.

I'll add these to the wiki and expand on them later.

[Xealot7]

Domi and Lady Aleru confront Aetherys:

Domi does not respond to Aetherys, he will leave that to Lady Aleru. He does summon a host of his angelic Guardians to usher the other humans away from the area and to stand guard over them.


-----------------------------------------------------------------------

Domi to the Humans in response to Artoran:

He does not wait long, for soon his Guardians report of the widespread panic in the in the Human settlements. Once he understands what Artoran has unleashed, Domi can only shake his head. In a booming voice the Lawbringer does as his namesake suggests. "LAWLESS ARE THEY THAT MAKE THEIR WILL THE LAW. Take my Divine Law and turn it to Human Decree!"

1AP - Introduce Concept (Code of Laws) - A set of laws are introduced by Domi, with input from Lady Aleru on how humans should interact with each other and others. Gives a way to combat those who would travel the path of wickedness.

5/15AP

[Toxic Mind]

When Kereth comes, it is not the gentle guidance his brothers and sisters have seen thus far. There is anger written in every line of his form. He smashes his staff into the ground, and radiant light bursts forth, stunning the squabbling gods into momentary silence.

"Brothers and Sisters, surely we are better than the mortals around us. Surely we, if any, could rise above the baser instincts of mortality. I was born of the Creator's desire for Knowledge, and I tell you, this should not be our way, squabbling like petty children for a trinket. Air your grievances, but if you cannot conduct yourself with civility, begone from this place!"

[Mynxae]

When Kereth comes, it is not the gentle guidance his brothers and sisters have seen thus far. There is anger written in every line of his form. He smashes his staff into the ground, and radiant light bursts forth, stunning the squabbling gods into momentary silence.

"Brothers and Sisters, surely we are better than the mortals around us. Surely we, if any, could rise above the baser instincts of mortality. I was born of the Creator's desire for Knowledge, and I tell you, this should not be our way, squabbling like petty children for a trinket. Air your grievances, but if you cannot conduct yourself with civility, begone from this place!"

The Field of Blood

"And who are you to preach, brother?" Aetherys spat angrily "We are not all as mighty as the one who merely guides those who've passed... You lead souls to their happy endings, but what about those souls who died violently or with murder in their hearts?".

[Arcran]

Artoran chuckles.

"And of so many died with murder in their hearts recently," he laughs, his eyes alive with fire.

"Why should I deal in pretty words and promises of truce? I am death, I am destruction. When I truce with words instead of weapons I'll gouge mine own eye out."

[Toxic Mind]

Kereth does not rise to the insult. "Nothing of what I do is simple, brother. I guide the living and the dead. My light illuminates all paths, including yours. You can protect without violence, without hate. You can make your nature safe without doing harm to others. But you must choose this path. I am no more mighty than the rest of you, but given your stake in this conflict, I see more clearly."

Kereth looks both gods up and down. "Why should your actions affect their souls? You seek to damn them with your hatred, but it is hardly so. In my light, the petty worries of their mortal lives fade away. Why should the nature of their death matter? Death is simply a doorway, through which they reach the next stage of their existence. When you discover this, you too will be welcome in the Soul Fields, to make a plane of battle and conflict, so your mortals can take eternal pleasure in conflict. You attempt to incite hatred in me, but you will not succeed. I see beyond."

[Arcran]

"Exactly! Why should we gods mind the manner these worms die in? Why does it matter to you whether they die peacefully at an old age or young with bloody fists? The only matter is that one entertains me, the other does not."

"And keep your Soul Fields," Artoran says, slamming his axe into the ground. "I will take what I will, make what I can and bow knee to no god. Take your pretty words and offers of peace and stick them in your Soul Fields," he says as he thumps his chest with a fist. "Violence is the only thing that will remove the weak mortals and leave us with those that are worthy of living."

[Toxic Mind]

Kereth laughs. "Who will worship a god that cares naught for their existence? You will fade, and become little more than the mortals you laud yourself over. For when there was no you, there was peace. Mortals did not choose conflict, you forced it upon them. You are a blight upon this world, an unasked-for cancer upon this pristine world. Clearly you will not see reason, for there is no reason within you."

Kereth saddens. "Those few that worship you will be left bereft, but I will not abandon them. They will not be lost to the void due to the shortsighted violence of their chosen god. I will guide them, as I do all, and make for them a place. But they will be lost to you. You are bared from the Soul Fields, until such time as you can prove yourself worthy of the admiration of mortals. You are right. The Soul Fields are mine, and while I thought they would be a place where all of us could care for the mortals who worshipped us in peace, I see now that this is not possible for beasts like you."

Kereth turns to the rest of the gods. The gates are open for those who seek them, my brothers and sisters. I will keep the souls of those who follow you safe, for when you come for them. See to it that you never prove unworthy as this one has." Kereth's expression is as cold as Elafriel's Winter heart as he turns back to Artoran. "Should you ever prove worthy to care for mortals, you may seek me. Until then, we have naught to say."

[Arcran]

"Coward!" Artoran shouts, enraged. "You deal in treachery and deciet! I challenge you for the souls of those that worship me, that I may lead them into battle by my side for all time," he says, grabbing his axe.

"Or are you too craven to stand a trial of blood?"

[Xunthrae]

Mersahj Gazes at the curious creature who named itself Yooo. "Well, Yooo. You are your own. Do as you wish and the consequences are yours to revel in." A glimmer of mischief shines in her eye. "Go out of the sea and onto the land. Explore that place first, is my advice to you."


She watches her Leviathan patrol the oceans, watching for dangers. Even going to far as using their power of storms to block out the red light every 100 days. Protecting the nearby merfolk tribes from the altering rays of the red moon.

In another part of the ocean. She watches the newest King of the merfolk. Lori'Sahj has been dead for several generations and this is the third Monarch of the Merfolk. He is Veri'Sahj, The Vibrant. He had the idea to stay close to her newest creations. The leviathans had been charged with protecting them and so he spread word to all the tribes of the ocean to gather at the leviathans and to swim alongside them.

"The Mother's guardians protect themselves and all nearby from the harmful rays of the Red Moon. See the wisdom and obey my people. If we do this, we shall no longer fear being altered into the vicious and obscene Locathath by the Cursed Moon. We will be safe, the ocean provides!"
Veri'sahj's tribe wandered the oceans, speaking to each trive he encountered, spreading the word over years until every trive had heard of his plan to protect the Chosen of Mersahj.

Mersahj is proud of Veri'Sahj. He is wise to use her Leviathan this way. Many sea creatures use eachother this way. The merfolk will tend to the leviathan's scales, keeping them free of weakness while the leviathan protects the merfolk from attack.


Her gaze turns to the land dwellers. Those concepts are not good for her people. They work in harmony together, each using their strength in concert with another's. The weak perish, and the strong thrive. Many slow merfolk are taken by sharks or orcas. The quick and strong hunt those predators.

Mersahj appears to them, lower half a body of 8 tentacles. She looks at the naked bloody god and the others, not caring that she is interrupting a possible fight between Kereth and Artoran.
"Kereth, you are wrong that there was no conflict. There may not have been any among the land walkers, but the red moon's glow twists my creations into brutal beasts who attack and savage my children. My chosen know conflict, they know war. They know hunger and danger. They are no strangers to conflict. And as for you" Her gaze turns to Artoran "You are not destruction. You merely embody that destruction which mortral wreak upon eachother. You are not of the destructive power of nature."

She glowers at them, her wet and scaly face shimmering in the light of the bright skyfire

[Venetian Mask]

The Field of Blood
Suddenly a portal materializes on the field as Nester walks out, casually leaning on his walking stick. He is followed by an honorguard of Autons readied for war. Kereth. he nods respectfully to the god of death. Lady Aleru, Lord Domi, he nods respectfully, I was wondering what kept my heralds swift return. I fear that the audience I proposed may have to wait. The god turns to Kereth again. My herald called for me as soon as the situation started escalating. Are you in need of support, my brother?

[Toxic Mind]

Kereth nods his greeting, a smile on his face at Nester's arrival. He turns back to the gods assembled. "A challenge has been issued, but I do not stand alone. There are those here who recognize the rightness of my actions, the truth in my speech, and the good I provide for this world. They stand beside me. They seek to guide the mortals as I do, towards a brighter future, a future where all can walk their path to its fullest end, and not have their journey cut short by another." Kereth opens his arms towards the assembled, Nester and his Autons at his back. "Will you reconsider the rash words you have spoken. I came here today to avoid violence, not cause more of it."

Kereth stands tall, resolute. "If you leave now, I will take your words of insult as the actions of one newly born, unknowing of the niceties we accord one another."

++++++++++++++++

Kereth turns to Mersahj. "You misunderstand sister. The conflict among mortals is the creation of the gods. They did not choose such conflict. It was forced upon them. Therein lies the nature of the beast. To say that mortals long for conflict among one another is a fallacy. I have seen the sorrow in your merfolk when they fight their corrupted brethren, and the sadness when they must take ones life. Sadness not for the beast that falls, but the mer that was before this abomination. They fight because they must, but they take no pleasure in it."

[mystic1110]

Yooo. . . . blinks. . . perhaps? It was not so much of a blink so much as a pop as the eye shape receded back into the mass of gelatin. And thus the river at the bottom of the ocean looked up towards the surface, and began to move towards the sun. The waters went from the darkest black to royal blue, to deep sea green, to the shallow clarity of crystal clear colorlessness. Clear except for the massive mass of Yooo that shimmered in opaque, yet translucent, Black and Green.

The river burst from the ocean, flying into the sky. And it kept going. The process was slow, and it created tidal waves that lapped the shores, removing beaches and villages that bordered the ocean, flooding the land. The Serpent still flew up, until it's tail finally appeared - for if Yooo was completely solid, if a man woke up on his tail and walked to his head without rest or sleep, it would take a week to traverse him. In his full form he appeared as a huge serpent twisted in onto itself. The face of the Ooze Dragon was like an angry lizard, but made out of clay, the features imperfect and too fluid. He had two arms jutting out of his body, but they trailed after him as if the gelatinous liquid couldn't decide what shape to make those arms and relented and made them into tendrils.

Yooo looked upon the world - the forests, the sun, the people, the creatures, and all the gods gathering in a clearing. He ignored it all for now. Instead he looked upon the land and the ocean and saw them apart, the lines of division clear - for their were no rivers upon the land. No islands upon the ocean. He would remedy that - he thought. And the Ooze Dragon swam through the air, unraveling as it did so, huge globs of muck falling from it were he stretched to fast.

He came to a part of the world, far from the other gods - although they definitely saw him traveling, for how could you miss the journey of a huge Slime Serpent that eclipsed the sun overhead - and began to ravel himself up again on top a mountain. The mountain was the largest mountain he could see on the landmass, but even still it was small. He wrapped his tail around it, and yet still his body stretched far into the sky. The ooze of his body began to travel down the mountain in torrents. It gushed down the mountain, scoring the land, creating river beds as the ooze traveled down back into the ocean. . . the rivers split into forms and then into deltas, the ocean water greeted it with a sort of congealed hatred, since it was a type of pollution. Ooze, Muck, Slime - whatever you call it, is not water, and where the water met the ooze, both water and ooze stopped. And thus the rivers of the world were black and green, and most importantly stagnant ribbons of . . . stuff. The rivers were thick enough that an animal could run on it without sinking - but only if it ran fast enough. As soon as it slowed the river would consume it, slowly - the animal would be trapped and would sink as it starved and died. Struggling only made one sink faster into the ooze. It didn't help that it was all slightly acidic. Not much but let's say that if you a human placed his hand into a river and kept it their, fighting against the pain and his own instincts, that that hand would be gone given ten minutes. Thus an animal could run across it and not sink, and only burn the very bottom of its feet - basically cleaning them.

The rivers were each a hundred feet wide at their narrowest, that many yards at their longest, the land was now divided by ooze. Observers could see animals and perhaps other creatures who tried to cross slowly within the ooze dying or dead. However the Ooze rivers provided some benefit - perhaps one could learn how to travel among them - boats and crafts that could not sink, allowing one to cross the landmass more easily. Additionally one could take globs from the river and use it to clean oneself, the acid eating away at the dirt caked upon the flesh - perhaps a race if driven to war could make into a weapon. Yooo did not think that far - in fact he didn't think about any of these possibilities - only that all the rivers lead to the Ooze Dragon himself so they were an invitation to converse with the Gelatinous Emperor.

But that was not all that the Ooze Dragon Wrought upon the world. The great globs of muck that clomped and fell off him as he flew to the the head of the Ooze rivers. The Clumps of black green ooze solidified and took shape - into what could have been a mouth and what could have been wings. The Ooze could not fly, but the shape it took was that off a serpent with legs, claws, teeth and wings. It was a dragon, standing taller than any of the trees. While solid - more solid than Yooo - the dragon could still be seen through. And once again it could not fly - it's wings mere decorations. Each and every glob that fell off Yooo became one of these strange dragons. The creatures looked around confused wherever they landed - for their creator did not truly make them, they simply fell off him. They had no purpose. And so they began to wander like purposeless things are apt to do. One of them walked into a forest, the trees simply passing into it, dissolving, and passing out as he walked away.

Let's not forget that they are made of ooze.

15 AP

Create land 1: RIVERS OF OOZE!!
Create Monstrous Life 1: OOZE DRAGONS!!

13 AP

[MichaelGoldclaw]

Aleru's rage appears to heighten. She grips her blade furiously. She tries to contain it, but she just snaps. She then yells out in righteous fury. "BOTH OF YOU, YOU DONE A GREAT EVIL AND MUST COME TO LIGHT. I WILL GIVE YOU TWO ONE CHANCE TO REPENT. IF YOU DO NOT, THEN YOU WILL DIE."

[Inane Gestures]

One's journey to the field of blood

As One waited for her audience with the king, the city she was in was enveloped in an uproar people were screaming in the streets about monsters murdering humans. The castle was immediately shut up tight. One knew that there would be no resolving her quest until this matter was taken care of. Wading through the panic stricken people who flooded the streets, One made her way out of the city stopping only to ask a woman where the violence had taken place.

It didn't take for One to find the field of blood, for there stood most of the gods ready to wage war against each other. It was a sight no mortal had yet seen and very likely one few would ever see. Seeing her creator Nester there she kneeled before him. Auspiciously: Oh great Spark, I have been sent on a journey by your son Mobius. He has sent me to the other lands to seek further advancements that the humans have developed. While seeking audience with their king the citizens became panicked making the meeting impossible. Looking over at the murdered forms of the humans. Gravely: I see that the humans now know tragedy, if this is the reason that they are so panicked and you stand with these others. She motions to the other gods. Then I the hero of your most loyal son, One, stand by your side.

[Arcran]

"Yield? Apologize? To you? A craven to frightened to fight me for an illegitimate claim? A filfthy whore who spits upon my gift? I have made your humans stronger than you ever could have dreamed. Is nobody here brave enough to face me alone or must you all hide behind one another's skirts?" Artoran asks. With a snarl he spits at Aleru.

"Since your friend is too craven, I will make you my offer. Fight me. If you win, your precious humans will never again be enlightened by myself. Lose, and you give me my own group of these hairless sacks of meat and we can truly see what is stronger, Light or Blood."

Any illegitimacy of this claim is lost on Artoran. He'd given then a gift and a guiding artifact. How was it that even their creator could not see the strength man would gain?

[MichaelGoldclaw]

"How would destroying each other make them stronger? Filtering out the weak? PAH. THose who are weak in body still can be useful. Even not, every human has a right to live until darkness creeps in. I make no deals with evil. I will say this one more time, repent or die for your actions."

[Arcran]

"Then I die with an axe in my hand, defying your puny strength" he says, rushing Aleru, axe held high and roaring loudly. He would either claim his place or die.

[roll0] Sorry, that should be 13. Forgot to add my rank.

LET'S GO BIG MONEY!

[Xealot7]

Battle of the Gods

When the god of murder moves to attack Aleru, Domi moves to intercept him.

Conflict:Divine Conflict:[roll0]

[ChaosPerfected]

"Ah.. how vexing." Rand replied, the soft voice was deep and calm. "I respect you and the divine spark within you, but this is a little embarrassing, because I've always been of the opinion that my Grandfather was just a dramatic man and God's were fables." He barely cracked a smile as he said this. "But I suppose once you reach what you think is the top there is always one more level that eludes me or even you."

Rand had built this magnificent house he now stood in by the sweat of his brow and the sores on his feet. It would be a shame to leave such a pinnacle of his achievement behind. It wasn't enough to simply create things like his Father and Tommen had imagined, you had to sell them, convince the people that they needed these new things more than they needed to cling to the past and tradition. When his first factory went up, Rand had been there lifting and struggling himself along with his workers. But it was a hard road from there to the powerful merchant and executive he became. Rand worked so hard and so often many believed he wasn't human, and he didn't seem to have any sense of humor. He'd established himself here in Tommen's Hollow because his workers had discovered a cave full of riches to mine. Many had tried to steal his fortune and work from him, and some even tried to kill and murder for no reason. This was foolishness. What was the profit in everyone dying?

"Is man not entitled to the sweat of his brow?" Rand mused, bringing his hand up to stroke his chin in front of this literal god. "Inside every man dwells a god. Most of them are doomed never to realize their potential, truly doomed in mortality. Some of them are so limited in their vision. But not I. Of course I will become a god and realize my full potential. It would be immoral not to seize every opportunity to improve myself. What is wealth to the power of a god?"

With that statement the one known as Rand seized the wizened hand.

Many had called him stone-faced but it was almost literal now with the soft plush pink of his skin turning grey like the very stones. But he didn't look much different other than that- still a powerful, dour, and intimidating bald man dripping in beautiful refinement and wealth.

Rand, the First Merchant, had become Zenirand, the Master of Contracts.

And the world at large troubled his new senses. He'd heard about the town that had been destroyed for no reason. The concept of murder was new to the fledgling humans. Some of them still didn't understand. They were vulnerable and weak. It would be up to them to devise a way to save themselves.

Those workers in his mines were probably the first mortals Zenirand looked upon and they were touched by his divine spark- touched and changed. Instead of normal humans they became shorter and more lithe to make it that much easier to work their way through tunnels and caves. Those eyes that loved light were soon more adapted to seeing in the darkness of the night or the blackness of a cavern. They were still experts with a pickaxe. Instead of fleshy, the skin they had took on the tones of the gemstones underneath the crust; brilliant rubies, beautiful sapphires, and stunning emeralds. Their ears and noses also grew larger and more exaggerated. Those humans in this portion of Tommen's Hollow had ceased to be and in their place this new race emerged. It was a misuse of divine power by a fledgling deity.

AP: 15

Create Land (2): The former workers of Rand dug deeply over the years and discovered a virtual other world below the crust. Underneath the continent created by Aetherys and beneath the Kingdom of Galvastia is an Undergalvastia that is nearly the same size as all of the land topside. In this place there exists beautiful gemstones like the ones we've come to know in our own world, and precious metals that hadn't been created yet (like gold for those gold coins). Silver also exists down here. It's not that these things haven't been around before but in this underground they exist in abundance. Like the topside the black ooze exists down here as rivers or stagnant lakes or even plants and wildlife.

Join Pantheon (1): As a spawn of Nester, I'll join the pantheon that supports rationality over the one that supports altruism.

Create Mundane Life [Goblins] (2): Those twisted workers are now short and more monster looking and come in blue, green and red flavors. This new race is to be called Goblins. They live underground, love money and precious stones, and are good at crafting and mining. A Goblin mother gives birth to a litter of Goblins (up to twelve) but most won't survive infancy, only the strongest few will make it that far.

Bless (1): A simple boon that allows the goblins to survive off the acidic black ooze rivers deep underground or even on the surface. They use it for fresh water.

Create Lesser Concept [Barter] (1): Just by existing Zenirand has sent shock-waves of thought through the mortal races. Goblin, Human, Merfolk and all mundane races alike now have a system of trade and barter. If you like something someone else has don't kill them for it- simply trade what you have that they may like. You've worked hard for your shinny stones so spend them as you please.

Create Lesser Concept [Bribery] (1): Someone trying to kill you? Try bribing them! It's the best way to survive the encounter. Perhaps this killer will listen to reason and form a mutually beneficial arrangement? If you pay a man that wants you dead for your stuff then you can survive and continue gathering more riches while the man guards you and protects you from other murders and is paid in turn, much more than he would have made had he simply killed you and taken all that you had at the time. This will later extend to paying anyone so that they'll do what you want instead.

AP: 7

[Mynxae]

Battle of the Gods

When the god of murder moves to attack Aleru, Domi moves to intercept him.

Conflict:Divine Conflict:[roll0]

Battle of the Gods

Aetherys saw Domi seek to interfere with the combat between his son and Aleru, so he leaped at Domi, tackling him to the ground and seeking to drive a blade through his throat with his teeth bared.

[roll0]

[Vigen]

Kereth and Mersahj:

"No need to appologize brother, I felt the sincerity of your words and your intent to help, I know that what we persieve as important must naturally differ just as our form and nature does it.
And though you mean well, you don't feel the pain that this glowing ball of fire is causing me, it is not its light that is troubling me, but its heat hurting and torturing the very essence of my being.
I see the truth of sister Mersahjs words and though the sky may no longer be a suitable place, for me to call home, there should be no reason for me, not to be able to create a place down there to call home, Elafriel gestures to world below them.
I'm sorry to have wasted your time brother, but i seem to have found my answer, and I think I can manage by myself.
It seems you might have more pressing matters brother. Demanding more of your divine attention, so go now with my blessing and know that i have found my way."


Elafriel gathered her will and concentrated it all on the stale warm air of the world, and then started guiding it around like a violinist playing a violin, she moved the air around in swirls and patterns only she understood, the currents flowed up and down, in and out, round and round, so magnificent, so beautiful Elafriel was so consumed by her endeavor, that she soon forgot the burning gaze of the sun, fully immersed in the music of wind.

Down on the world all hell broke loose, as the first storm it had ever experienced. Gathered over the sea and the continent, winds started blowing faster and faster tornadoes formed like giant snakes connecting the earth to the skies. The wind blowing faster than ever before swept away buildings and tress alike not much could stop its destructive force, with the wind came the gathering of skies, far darker than seen before, so dark that they snuffed out the sun, and laid the world in darkness as it had been many years before. It didn't last for long though, as the lightning and thunder lit up the sky, scorching the earth and everything on it with the wrath of the heavens.

The storm continued on for 13 days and 13 nights, slowly decreasing in power by each passing day on the 13 day the wind was still and not a cloud cluttered the sky, the storm was finally over. For the first time since it started the destruction of the storm was made clear, almost all human settlements were more or less destroyed, some were swept away by the sudden downpour and rising tides, while others were burned to the ground by lightning strikes, others again were simply blown to pieces by the wind, only two big human cities were still left standing, the city of Klein and the city of Galvast.

After the 13 days of storm Elafriel finally comes out of her trance, not caring about the destruction she have caused, she mutters to herself"The wind is indeed colder, now but it is still not enough"

Klein: I figured Mobius, Zero, the merfolk plus possible technology saved them, Galvast: I figured the castle walls were high enough to avoid the flood, and that the guardians protected them. Dunno if i missed other surface cities, but in general i would say consider most wooden/clay huts gone/destroyed along with its inhabitants unless saved of course ^^


4ap weave plane air currents, there is now a permanent blowing wind, making the skies move and twist creates the occasional hurricane, storm and tornado, making the foundation for desserts starting to form on the continent as fertile material is blown away, and sand from the beaches reach longer inland.
7/15 ap left

[Inane Gestures]

The hero ONe on the hill of the gods

As the storm picks up around them on the blood fields, ONe looks up at the god of murder as he barrels towards axe at the ready. As the strike rises, ONe sees that its deadly intent cannot be stopped. ONe rushes forwards, unarmed save for her fists, curled into the metallic hammers that Nester saw fit to bless her with. Diving in the path of axe blade she raises one arm to fend off the blow and with the other fires off a series of punches with the other. As she stands there in the field of battle lightning crackles in the sky illuminating her like a beacon of hope amidts the termoil, but in that light you see something else almost an after image following her movements of a larger metalic being, the symbol of infinity upon its brow. Defiant Shout Hear me beast for I am ONe, daughter of Nester and Hero of Mobius the god of Hope and Potential, The God in the Machine, he who seeks to protect life from what would harm it. I stand in defiance to thee!

ONe is going to attempt to protect lady Aleru from the wrath of Artoran she is able to stand to the god because she is backed by a shard of mobius [roll0] (+2 hero, +3 infused organization, +2 Greater race, +1 Fledgling god bonus)

[mystic1110]

Do you know what a hagfish is? What it is, is not important - but let me describe it to you - the analogy of what occurs in the world relies on the lowly hagfish.

The hagfish is not a looker. The eel – to which the hagfish is not directly related but often compared, on account of its elongated body – is an attractive animal, by comparison. The hagfish is usually indistinguishable from whatever you can possibly imagine an undead coil of excretion. Also not important is how the hagfish feeds: when the eel-like creature finds a carcass on the seafloor, it burrows inside the dead meat and starts eating...not just with its mouth, but with its skin. It's an ocean scavenger. Appropriate for an undead coil of excretion, no? However most interesting about the hagfish is that when it is agitated or threatened it exudes a fibrous slime from its body. This slime is a defense mechanism. A teaspoon of the stuff can turn a beaker of water into a mass of viscid, gloppy gunk. A hassled hagfish can render a five-gallon bucket snotty with ooze, choking a would be predator with muck surrounding its gills or filling its lungs. The skeins of slime produced by the hagfish congeal and then congeal the water around it - permanently - into ooze.

Unfortunately, I think you know where I'm going with this.

Yes the world had fresh water rivers flowing from it's mountains. Yes it had lakes. Beautiful and pristine. But had is the operative word in this instance. Why had instead of has? Look towards the hagfish, and by hagfish I mean the Ooze Dragons. When we last talked about the Ooze Dragons they were wandering around purposeless. Wandering straight lines no less, their acidic ooze bodies allowing them them to walk through forests unabated. They walked right on top of Ooze Rivers. . . perhaps only mountains stopped them - mountains and lakes. Encircling the various mountains, they found fresh rivers, and . . . they stepped into them. Same with the lakes, being curious the Ooze Dragons looked at the expanse of water and simply dove right in.

Water to the Ooze dragons was a wonderful thing, it was like a drug. It made them feel relaxed and their buoyancy allowed them to imagine that their wings allowed them to fly. However it did not last. The thick slime that made the Ooze Dragons - for the Ooze Dragons were made of Ooze as it were - interacted with the water like the hagfish interacts with water. Ooze began to spin itself into the thinnest of skeins, that coiled around itself and then congealed. The water also congealed - each Ooze Dragon acting like an ecological catastrophe. Rivers were converted into Ooze. Lakes became gelatinous blobs. And when the Ooze Dragons finished with one body of fresh water they would leave and try searching for another. Soon their was none.

And the Ooze Dragons were sad, for they could no longer pretend to fly. . . the Hagfish probably feels the same way.

And high in the clouds, The Ooze Dragon Yooo knew none of this - for he yet did not know about the lesser Ooze Dragons. Instead he slept - for if Ooze is anything, it is lethargic.

AP 13 Plus rollover 4 = 17
-2 AP: Convert ALL fresh water rivers and lakes and other bodies of water into Ooze, using the Ooze Dragons.
15 AP

[MichaelGoldclaw]

After seeing One defend her, Lady aleru goes on the offencive. She charges and swings her sword at the foul god of War.


I wish my character wasn't so focused on justice, because I feel like a **** trying to kill two people at the start of the game

[roll0]+2 if Domi's Guardians aren't preoccupied in his fight

[mystic1110]

A lone Avian flew above the clouds and looked upon the form of Yooo curled up - ineffable, inscrutable, and slightly off putting. Slightly is probably an understatement, but what word would describe the awe and disgust that a tiny mortal would experience when setting eyes on upon the Slime Serpent? Either way the Avian avoided traveling any further to where the Ooze Dragon slumbered above the mountain and instead descended below the clouds. The ooze rivers - and the congealed rivers of the world - also struck her with that same sense of awe, at their scale, and disgust, because. . . it was basically acidic mucus. Either way though the Avian wanted to look upon them firsthand.

The Avian landed near where a black green ooze river sat next to a congealed river of regular water. It was hard to tell the difference except for one thing. The ooze river contained miniature bubbles, as the acid of the river devoured whatever laid trapped within. The avian could already see the corpses of various small animals - and some humans and woodwalkers, and other species, being stripped of their flesh and bone as the river devoured them. Luckily for them they were already dead. Or so the Avian hoped. Looking into the other river the Avian witnessed another nightmare. The bodies of those within were not being dissolved as fast - some were also clearly alive. One river was made of acid, the other wasn't. The Avian had no particular love or affinity towards the other races but even she could not stand idle while others died within the Ooze. But how to get them out with herself falling pray to it?

The Avian flew to the forest and grabbed a long branch and then flew back to the river. She poked the branch into the ooze, and while the ooze at first resisted, it finally relented and the branch pierced the sap like substance. She pushed the branch till it reached where the hand of a young human who was slowly suffocating to death. The human's hands grabbed the offered branch and the Avian pulled as hard as she could. The human came free of the ooze, and began to cough up slime. He was disgusting - covered in jelly. The Avian asked him if he was alright - but the human only looked at her with a goofy grin and wide eyes. . . and then without warning he got up and ran into the woods. Ungrateful.

The Avian looked down at her hand, covered in the gelatinous liquid. For some reason she wanted to taste it. What would be the harm. She placed one finger covered in the ooze from the congealed river into her mouth and sucked on it, ingesting the ooze.

Then she went on a little trip. A trip without walking or flying or going anywhere. She smiled and her eyes went wide.

In those next few hours she learned everything there was to learn about her psyche. She experienced a fantastic display of colorful visions, some abstract and geometrical, others figurative and filled with symbolic import. The sheer intensity of the array of emotions she felt simply amazed her. She was hit by a radiance that seemed comparable to the epicenter of an explosion, or perhaps the light of supernatural brilliance said to appear before a person the moment of death. She felt a thunderbolt of euphoria and was catapulted out of her body. First she lost her awareness of her immediate surroundings, then the forest and the ooze rivers, then the continent itself, and finally the planet. At an inconceivable speed her consciousness expanded to cosmic dimensions. She experienced the Bbirth of the God's, passed through black holes and white holes in the universe, identified with exploding supernovas, and witnessed many other strange phenomena that seemed to be pulsars, quasars, and other cosmic events. Phenomena which it is unclear even exist - but she dreamt it all.

When she rediscovered her own body, mere minutes have passed. She was covered in sweat and she was shaking. She felt her mouth smiling and she knew her eyes were wide. She looked at her hand still covered in slime. . . .

She placed another finger in her mouth. . . .

15 AP - 1 AP
1 Boon: Any Mortal who ingests any of the congealed rivers (But not the other ooze rivers) will experience a high like nothing else. It will be like acid times ten. It is not Physiological addictive like Meth, but just like actual Acid people enjoy doing it and will keep doing it recreationally.

14AP

[Toxic Mind]

Kereth felt the storms that Elafriel had conjured. He was saddened that she thought her only recourse was such wanton destruction, but the path one walked was often fraught with strange twists. Kereth had not lost hope for his sister. 13 days was hardly enough to inconvenience the Wayfinders, most of who took shelter in the human fortresses. Some sheltered with the new goblin race, twisted though they were, they were mortals, and the Wayfinders found them worthy of guidance. Many more of the Wayfinders, noble as they were, south those within the storm, saving many lives and protecting many of the other mortals. The Wayfinders could find no way to help the mer, so they left them to their own devices, trust that the sea would protect.

The Field of Blood

Kereth turned to Nester. "I will follow your path in this matter, brother. You came when I did not ask, to aid me against one who would do myself, and this world, great harm. If you wish to join against him, I will stand by you, but I would prefer not to fight at all. Still, we may be forced into this fight whatever our desire may be. Kereth gestures to One and Aleru, even now fighting against the God of War. Still, your courage and friendship have moved me. I would join your cadre of those who guide the world, if you will have me. Even now my Wayfinders move across the mortal world, charting its dangers and wonders to guide the other mortals. What say you?

[mystic1110]

It would have been a Wayfinder who discovered the Secrets of the Ooze before anyone else - probably before Yooo himself.

The Wayfinder was wandering, as Wayfinder's are apt to do, and stumbled across and Ooze Dragon. This particular Wayfinder never saw an Ooze Dragon before, so let's describe the creature as viewed from his eyes. The Ooze Dragon was decidedly not liquid - it was as solid, as lets say, the Wayfinder. However, it is more correct to say that the creature looked soggy. It was like a giant lizard, towering over the seven feet tall Wayfinder, standing above even the trees. The creatures wings were folded, but if it extended them, then they would have shadowed the entire area. The creature was obviously covered with some sort of slime, it was constantly running off it. Additionally the creature was sort of translucent - even though it was greenish black, the Wayfinder could still see the warped images of trees and sky through the creature. The Wayfinder could even see the dissolving corpses of small animals, and a single human, within the creature.

Before the Wayfinder could hide behind a tree and avoid confrontation, the creature turned its head to him and stared at him with it's eyes. The eyes were like the rest of the creature. It was hard to tell were the eye began and the lids started. However for some reason the mucus like substance that rolled off the creature congealed on the eye and created some type of iris. And that sticky oily iris looked at the Wayfinder with an intelligence he couldn't believe possible.

The Wayfinder stepped out from his hiding place to approach the creature. The creature looked at him at all of a sudden extended a tendril like appendage from its, now apparently, amorphous body. It seemed like Dragon was the shape it chose, not the shape it could be. Regardless the tentacle grabbed the Wayfinder's wrist. It began to sizzle as the acid began to eat away at his hand. The Wayfinder stood still, if he tried to run, he would have died regardless - this creature was attempting to communicate with him and he wouldn't run.

Eventually the Ooze Dragon let go of him. The burn mark on his wrist red and raw. The Ooze Dragon spared him one more look, before it extended it's wings and tried to take flight. Instead it sort of stumbled and ran off into the forest (dissolving some trees on its way) flightless. The motion dropped a huge glob of muck and ooze onto the forest ground which spread out on the dirt. The Wayfinder dropped to his knees holding his hand, the pain almost unbearable.

What was the Dragon trying to communicate to him? The Wayfinder respected all of nature, but what the dragon did, just seemed like random cruelty. He raised his hand, the one burned by the the Ooze Dragon, towards the heavens. He did not do it to ask for prayer or as a curse, he did it just to assuage the pain of the acid. However this simple motion was met with an unexpected reaction - the ooze that was left over by the Ooze Dragon rose a fraction. It did not fly into the air - perhaps it only rose by an inch, but it was clearly in response to his action. He brought his hand down in shock. The ooze fell as well.

A gift? The Wayfinder moved his hand in a circle - the ooze copied his motion.

A gift.

AP 14
Create Magical Concept: OOZE BENDING. (Control of ooze. In order to be an Ooze bender you must be marked by an Ooze Dragon - you cannot force a dragon to give you Ooze bending, it must choose you. Each dragon chooses different people based on its current desires and whims. Ooze magic allows you to shape and harden ooze as you wish - it also allows you to ride Ooze Dragons. If you try using Ooze Bending against an Ooze Dragon, you will lose. Ooze Bending becomes more powerful, the more you train with using it, and the more connected you are with Ooze (being covered in slime helps :smalltongue:. Dragons being made of Ooze are obviously the best users of Ooze Bending)
Boon Wayfinders and Ooze Dragons: Knowledge of OOZE BENDING.
AP 10

[Xunthrae]

Mersahj felt the magic her Leviathan's were using. She felt a connection to them, the storms they were creating. Her mind pulling all her shards to one point in the world, opposite the massive continent of land. Mersahj seizes domain over the swirling vortexes of wind and rain and the power courses through her. She now commands the storms of the sea. They are hers now. She lets crackling of lightning dance across her scales. Behind her eyes the fury of a storm builds and builds.

Mersahj coils herself together as the energy builds up in her divine body, some of her scales change from the beautiful oceanic blue and teal into vibrant blues and whites, like that of a lightning strike. After several hours in this state the fury of the storm bursts from her body and releases a immense hurricane. The seas around her roil in the powerful winds, mingling with the winds of the 13 day storm of her sister, compounding eachother, twisting the waves into ice and sleet, the permanent night illuminated by repeated lightning strikes. Mersahj stays this way for a week, Her newfound power fueling the storm, causing the oceans for hundreds of miles around the storm to swirl and shift, and in some parts freeze as it mingles with Elafriel's frigid winds.

Huge chunks of Ice begin to form in the storm and float about the sea, one or two occasionally drifting to the lit side of the world only to melt over the days and weeks they drift on the heated side.

Once the week is done, Mersahj awakes, her newfound power crackling in her crown-like crest, lightning danced across the membranes connecting them. She looked around at the storm and smiled. She decided to leave it there, swirling in place forever a reminder of her acquisition of power.

She then, all at once, went to each of her six Leviathan and bade them so rejoice, to conjur a storm above each of them to declare their mother's power. Each would comply, though their storms nowhere near the magnitude of Storm in the Dark, but each would cloak the sky in clouds and rain. She was pleased.

The merfolk, upon seeing their Goddess, praised her name in their tongue of clicks and squeals. They saw her bristling with power and renewed the fervor upon which they praised her. She gave each leader the knowledge of what transpired, and she acts as a relay for Veri'sahj's declaration upon seeing their goddess.

"Our goddess shows herself to us in all her glory! She is not merely our mother, but the mother of storms. She is Mersahj, the Coral Queen, the Storm Mother!"


1Ap+4rollover=5
Gain domain Ocean (Storms) -3
Remaining AP= 2

[Dorian Gray]

The wind had picked up- in fact, it was gusting stronger than Illium had ever seen before. Very dramatic- Illium resolved to make it storm and gust whenever momentous events occurred in the future. But that was the future. Right now, Illium wanted to be near the action. In a breath, the god was in motion, the aurora crackling behind him as he streaked through the air.

A massive black panther leaps through the air, claws raking across metal harder than the strongest stone. Domi's gauntleted hand grabs the furry throat of the gargantuan beast and flings it to the ground, where it smashes a massive crater. As the earth roils and heaves, the armored god leaps into the air, swinging his longsword down in a devastating arc- but the panther is gone, and in it's place is a figure of leather and stone, sweeping and stabbing with two hideously curved daggers. Someone's blood sprays into the air, fountaining in an ark over the entire valley.

Illium watches from behind a nearby tree, entranced by the action. This would be something to remember. Not that he would get involved, of course, but damn, was it entertaining. The aurora that fizzes in the sky above grows brighter, bursts of light flashing almost to the ground.

An axe the size of a small tree shrieks through the air, flinging blood off it's edge, as if the wind itself was bleeding. A sword, seven feet long and straight, radiates with a terrible light that burns the leaves off the trees as it tears through the frigid wind and smashes into the half-moon cutting edge of the crimson axe. As the two terrible weapons collide, a peal of thunder washes over the valley, smashing trees flat with the force of the massive noise.

As Illium is flung from his perch in a tall pine, he decides that perhaps he will not observe the fighting. Besides, it appears that one of his duties is being impeded elsewhere. Far elsewhere, hopefully.
---
A bit later, Illium stands in front of a long brownish river of... ewwwww. Gross.

"Could the person responsible for this please come talk to me? There are people who need to move through here, and quite frankly, this stuff is disgusting!"

[Croverus]

Attraxxii watches the fight unfold, then grows bored of it, returning his focus to the moons. He feels his power swell and understands that the moons have played a great deal of important on the world so far. Even though he is aware no other deities have any right to them as he made them and has controlled them, the moons are him, and he understands them better than any other. He claims them wholly as his, knowing no other will be able to harness the power of his moons without his permission. He checks on the Avian at the core of his main eye, his energies twisting and morphing it into something, new. Something he will release upon the world soon.


Starting AP: 0

Rollover: +4

Gain Domain Lunar: 3 AP

Remaining AP: 1

[ChaosPerfected]

Time was, of course, fluid and some moments could seem like a few minutes but time outside of it would continue on for much longer. The god Zenirand was still talking to the one that sired him but the goblins that were his spawn still advanced. They lived in the caves that protected them from the horrible storms and the acid ooze puddles that were fatal to many other races were a boon to them.

It seemed like the goblins adapted quickly to this harsher world. But they merely lived day to day and didn't look out for each other. Every goblin looked out for them and theirs alone; they hunted and survived and bartered for goods with the patron of each family generally using the other members as collateral. All of the goblins shared the divine spark of Zenirand and thus were naturally driven to greed and making deals. Most goblin families lived in loose tribes in the swamplands that formed around the stagnant ooze lands deep in Undergalvast where they survived on a diet of life-giving ooze and insects, mainly. Goblins were primarily insectivores. The acid didn't really bother them and actually gave them excellent hygiene by burning off bacteria. These tribes had formed their own barter system where they traded insects (food stuffs), the precious metals and stones they mined with their crude tools, and romantic time with lesser members of the different families. It was also standard practice to pay some goblins to stand around and guard your stuff. Each of the families had a patron that pretty much handled things. These early primitive goblins had only one rule and that was loyalty to family above all else.

You could call one of the ooze-lakes in Undergalvast a great ooze-lake because it was comparable in size to one of our seven great lakes. Twelve tribes or families lived in the fertile swamp-lands around this lake and were cooperative with one another although spats did still occur. Each of these families of course had a patron or boss. Tradition said that the boss was the oldest male and was passed down to the next eldest whenever the boss were to die. When a goblin becomes the boss it's standard practice to forgo their given name and simply be known as Da Boss. One of these families, the Sparacello Family, was going through a bit of turmoil with the recent death of their boss and faced with having to accept the boss' estranged eldest as the new boss.

This new boss was a revolutionary thinker and a savvy businessman who decided to take his family in a different direction. He explored further onto the surface than most goblins did and learned the times it was safest to venture out. It was this boss that discovered the deadly effects of the acid on other races- and the euphoric effect the brachium water had on others. The acid ooze-lakes were way too dangerous for the other races to venture close to so many mortal races had died seeking that to capture that euphoric feeling again. But where most people saw only tragedy, a goblin saw the potential for profit.

Owing to the spark of genius present in his divine family dating back to Nester, Da Boss was able to invent a factory to process the ooze and distill it into drinkable fresh water. Soon the Sparacello Family were the main exporters of drinkable water to the other races, literally selling water. Due to their natural immunity to the acid they were also able to much more easily gather the euphoric liquid and meat from the fish that dwelt in the acid ponds. Da Boss of the Sparacello Family was soon one of the richest and most powerful goblin families around.

AP: 7
AP Rollover: 4
AP: 11

Raise Hero (Da Boss) (4): Da Boss of the Sparacello Family, he's one of the first goblins of note and an inventive and revolutionary leader. Invented the Water Distillation Factory and sells Euphoric Water to people who don't want to risk going after it themselves. The first boss is named Giovanni, but it'll be passed down.

Alter Land (1): Around many of the ooze-lands fertile swamp-lands have formed that have spawned many acid-resistant types of swamp bugs. These bugs are the goblins primary food source.

Create Monster (Carpoclops) (1): A gigantic one-eyed carp that contains plenty of meat. The Carpoclops eats it's food whole and lives only in the acid lakes. As if it being acid wasn't bad enough. The goblins kill these for meat and sell them to other races.

Create Advanced Concept (Water Distillation Factory) (2): The goblins quickly learned that other races would die if they drank the ooze, but they still need water to survive. The boss wisely invented an entire line of production factories dedicated to distilling the ooze into a drinkable form for humans and other ooze-intolerant races, literally selling water. They also use it to produce higher quality Euphoric Water to sell, at a steeper price.

AP: 3

[mystic1110]

The human warrior returned to his village. The hunt did not go well - the animals were scared off by a beast that singed trees and ate bone. Perhaps one of these Dragons which existed in the villages stories? However the warrior did manage to bring a clay jar of Slime back to the village. He carried the Slime Jar on his head as he made his way towards the largest of village huts. The hut was located towards the back of the village and was sort of isolated - out of the way. Clearly however it was not due to fear, but instead respect, since the grass leading towards the Hut was worn and bare - the dirt showing. Many people walked to this Hut.

The hut's entrance was covered by an animal's leather, which the Warrior pushed aside to enter. Upon entering he went down to his knees and apologized for entering unannounced. No one ever announced themselves, but it was polite and respectful to ask forgiveness. The hut's inhabitant, shrouded in shadow towards the back bid him to sit up with a wave of her hand. Now upright the warrior could see who he was talking to. It was Scatha, the mid-wife. Scatha, the Witch. She was an old leathery bag of bones, with white tangled hair and eyes so gone in the Ooze high that they were practically stained green. Her lips dribbled, another effect of being permanently on the Ooze - an ever lasting high. Nonetheless she was the most respected and revered person in the village.

The Witch cackled and asked the warrior why he was here. It was simple really - he wanted to find out what the future had in store. Will he become chief? Will their be enough to hunt in the upcoming months? Will the sun ever set? Will the village ever be in danger from a Dragon? Will the Gods ever stop fighting? He presented the Witch with the slime jar. Her stained green eyes lit up when they saw it. She picked up the jar and slurped down its contents. The sight made the warrior feel nauseated - it was disgusting. Almost immediately the Witch's head flew back and her joints began to spasm. She began to babble and chant. And just as suddenly she went client and put her hands on the Slime Jar and peered at the left overs.

Silent.

The Warrior asked a question. She answered. Another question. She Answered. Another question. She Answered. Another question. She laughed. Only enough slime for three questions. Good enough. The Warrior left the hut with a smile - while the Witch slurped up more slime behind him.

3 Create Magical Concept: Laaspimancy (From the greek word "láspi̱" meaning Ooze. Laaspimancy is divination using by means of getting High off the Ooze and then looking at more Ooze. Laaspimancy is accurate depending on ones connection to the Ooze. Obviously Dragons, being made of Ooze are the best oracles - however if one ingests enough Ooze, gets high just enough, and then other people ask that Oracle for questions - that person may be able to provide accurate answers.)

3 Gain Domain: Magic (Ooze)
-using my creation of Laaspimancy 3
-using my creation of Ooze bending 3
- My boon of Ooze bending 1

AP 4

[Toxic Mind]

Voyal had heard many tales of the ooze, and seen the effects of both types firsthand in his wanderings. He had led multiple human expeditions through areas with active Ooze Dragons and Rivers before, and for the most part, they were successful. Voyal rarely lost any who he guided, but the Ooze seemed to call other mortals to it, in a way that the Wayfinders had never felt. Voyal always wondered what could have occurred to cause so much death from slow-moving rivers. He was amazed that humans and many of the other races did not simply build over or around the ooze. Still, his Purpose was clear, and he guided those in need, taught them what he knew of the Ooze, and hoped for the best.

Voyal's life changed drastically when, in his 250th year, he was leading a caravan of goblin and human merchants through an area with a known active Ooze Dragon. Voyal knew that this route was the fastest way to their destination, but even still he had advised against the journey. Ooze Dragons were unpredictable at best, and incredibly dangerous. The merchant's response simply reinforced Voyal's ideas that some mortals were simply too stupid to survive in this world. Wayfinders knew better than to travel near the Ooze Dragons. Still, Voyal went, and hoped for the best. But Kereth was not smiling on their journey that day, or perhaps was otherwise occupied, because the Ooze Dragon found their caravan. With frightening swiftness, it devoured one of the caravans, taking five of the guards and two merchants unfortunate enough to be inside to their deaths. The rest of the caravan guards and merchants ran quickly, but the Ooze Dragon, seeing moving prey, lurched sickeningly after them. Voyal ran in front, and with quick and sure movements found a path through the nearby forest. It looked like they might escape until suddenly, Voyal found himself at the edge of a cliff, an Ooze river beneath them. He turned to choose another path when one of the guards, panicking, ran directly into him, knocking them both into the gorge.

As Voyal fell, his life flashed before him. He had seen the etching on the wall, this Ooze was the acid variety, not the hallucinogenic. Voyal was sad that he had never fathered a child, but he knew Kereth would be there to guide him onward. He stretched his hand toward the ooze, and the oddest thing happened. The ominous hissing stopped. As Voyal landed in the ooze, there was no burning, no screams. The walls still hissed, but the patch they had landed in was remarkably non-acidic. Voyal was astounded, but not one to ask fate for explanations, he lifted his hands up to the ground at the top, calling for rope. As he lifted his hand, the ooze under his feet solidified, and began bearing him and the human guard upward. Safely up once more, Voyal extended his hands, and the ooze formed a solid bridge across the gorge, safe to walk upon. Just as the ooze dragon crashed through the trees, the last of the caravan crossed the gorge and the bridge behind them dissolved into nothingness.

Voyal finished his journey, and began searching for other Wayfinders. Together, they honed and perfected their ability, sharing the knowledge with other Wayfinders. Soon enough, all Wayfinders could be seen carrying ceramic jugs across their backs, filled with acidic ooze. The Wayfinders found numerous uses for the controllable acid, from clearing paths to building bridges, to even fighting wild creatures or bandits. Many incorporated the ooze into their staff fighting, and with this new gift, the Wayfinders became even more respected as guides, and were given even more deference as warriors of great skill and honor.

++++++++++++++++

Kereth stood on the mountain, looking at the sleeping Yooo, and feeling its' divine spark. He had time, he would wait for the beast to wake and notice him. As he did, he sat, and looked at the beacons he had placed in the sky. They had been moved and formed into shapes, but their purpose was unchanged. He looked at the Wayfinders, how they walked their long paths with surety, and how they found their way among the mortals and through the world. And Kereth dreamed.

He saw the beacons overhead spiral, and saw the mortal races identifying them, naming them, using them to navigate the world. He saw humans who were once lost in the darkness look to the sky and know their way, he saw souls who would have been lost righted onto their path by gazing at Kereth's Beacons. He saw one, the brightest of the Beacons, and how the mortals looked to it with deference, calling it Kereth's Lantern. He smiled at this. The Lantern was real, but the mortals, at least the living ones, knew it not. He was pleased that they had chosen the brightest Beacon to name for him. He saw other groupings named for other gods, and was pleased as well. The Beacons were for all, and his brothers and sisters would be forever remembered in the night sky.

The vision changed. He saw mortals in hollowed trees that walked upon the surface of the ocean as easily as the mer swam below it. In each of these trees stood a Wayfinder, charting the course of those under his care across the vast seas, to new a distant lands, not even created yet. He saw the paths across the water, and small islands, that the trees would rest and shelter upon, with Wayfinders upon them, tending to the island and its small, lantern-shaped shrines. He saw strange metal creations that reminded him vaguely of Nester and Mobius and the Autons, but that held mortals within them as the traversed air and land and even the skys above, but such things were hazy. Kereth awoke from the dream, turning to the now stirring Yooo. "You have given my people a great gift, whether you intended it as such or not. I will not forget this, and there may come a day when you need my light, my guidance. In that hour, you may call, and I will answer. May light always guide your path, sibling of mine."


3 AP: Domain Exploration (Navigation) Acquired

Remaining: 1

[Arcran]

As Artoran sprints forward he sees not one, not two, but three separate gods moving to counter him. He prepares to engage Domi only for his progenitor to tackle him to the ground, seeking to quickly end the fight. Artoran ignores the two, moving forward against his two new foes.

Aleru leads with a hasty strike of the sword that Artoran lazily parries. The other, some sort of metal construct, attacks his legs with a flurry of unarmed strikes. They hardly stung but the metal creature was fast and the constant strikes to both his legs and face made it next to impossible to keep up with Aleru. He earned himself a few cuts, the god of war swiftly becoming covered in his own blood. The wounds began to heal almost instantly (he was a god after all) but still, the defensive was not how Artoran wished to fight.

With an enraged shout he swings at the metal creature. The construct, underestimating Artoran's strength, tries to block it with a forearm. Drinker sheers almost halfway through the arm before it is able to dart away. With the construct at least momentarily disabled, he rushes towards Aleru, seeking to end the fight now.

Before he can take a few steps though, somebody sweeps his legs out from under him and a staff cracks down into his arm, causing him to nearly lose his axe. Nester and Kereth had joined the fight seemingly out of nowhere, the two striking and the most opportune moment to catch Artoran off guard. As Kereth goes in for a second attack on his wrist he catches the staff and pulls it in, grabs Kereth by his robe and flings him away. As he climbs back to his feet he flings Drinker at Nester, forcing the god to dive out of the way. With his split second of freedom he once again turns to rush Aleru.

He had hardly registered the flash of steel before the sword slid into the middle of his chest. Blood poured forth like a river, drenching the naked god. Still, Aleru was in reach; with a quick motion he latches on to Aleru's shoulder and, with three quick jerks of his head, pummels Aleru his headbutts, his massive flat forehead stunning Aleru. In another smooth motion he pulls out the sword, blood pouring out with renewed vigor, and slashes across Aleru's face. The goddess, despite the stunning headbutts, manages to lean back slight, causing the blade to only shear through half of her head. It was a blow that would certainly have killed a mortal but, to a god, was only a minor annoyance. The cut started right above her right and coming out her jaw, shearing through bone and flesh alike with equal impunity. Aleru fell back, stunned.

Artoran only realized as the blade sheared through his thigh that he had sacrificed all semblance of defense for that blow. As he fell to one knee he saw his progenitor lying broken and bloody on the ground. Domi stood behind him, sword overhead. Artoran went for a slash only for Kereth to smack the sword from his hand. Still the god tried to crawl forward, fight another foe, but metal fists pummeled the back of his neck, sending him to the ground. Artoran was bleeding from dozens of wounds, including the gaping wound in his chest. The woods had been all but ruined from the battle of the gods.

Artoran now lies on the ground, broken and bloody, trying to push himself up with arms that hardly function onto slashed and broken legs, glaring at the gods above.

[Toxic Mind]

Kereth's staff whirled, and the tip points at the defeated god. "For all your words, you still do not understand that your power is little before a united foe. Your path is long, and bloody, but it will not end by my hand today. For I understand that you did not choose the nature of your birth, and even I do not yet fully understand the role you may play in our world." Kereth sets his staff down. "This conflict was not what I wanted, brother. I sought unity of purpose, but it was not meant to be. I hope that you will never again mistake my unwillingness to fight for cowardice or weakness. Your punishment, whatever your words towards me, will not come at my hands."

Kereth turns to the victorious gods, those of the Light, those of the Mechanicus, and the unaffiliated. "I urge mercy, brothers and sisters. Whatever his actions, this one is newly born, and was not told by his creator of the respect we afford for one another. To punish him further than this humiliation would only breed more hate. To guide him down a better path may serve us better in the future."

[MichaelGoldclaw]

Upon hearing the plea for mercy, Aleru was at conflict. On one hand, justice demands death. The other hand is that strict adhesion to justice is an amoral act. She decided on a compromise. "While justice demands death, beneolence demands mercy. I decided that you shall be exiled instead of executed. Weave your own plane of existence and don't leave it, otherwise." She slices the war god on the chest, deep enough to form a scar, but shallow enough to not cause a death "I will do more than scar you."

She turns to his father "Now, you never replied. Repent and I will be merciful and turn the other cheek. Don't, and you will share his fate."

[Arcran]

Artoran laughs, spitting blood and phlegm at Aleru.

"Big god when you've got four others to back you up, aren't you sweetling?" he says, looking at the cut. What had been the point of that, he wonders. Another scar on top of dozen? Whoop-dee-diddly doo.

"I'll leave your world. Just know that mankind will never, ever be safe. For every cut upon my hide, thousands will drown in blood. It's such a shame I let myself get cut up so badly," he says with a chortle, blood flying from his mouth.

[Dorian Gray]

Illium follows five minutes behind the excitement, appearing next to the massive body of Yooo. Scowling, the god mutters to himself. Oh, This ass.

Raising his voice, the Storyteller shouts, "Hey, wake up! I need to talk to you!", but of course, the Ooze God sleeps on.

The aurora flows to the ground, forming a massive, multicolored cloak. Raising his walking stick, Illium smashes the earth, once, twice, three times. Still Yooo slept on. Displeased, Illium growls, "Alright then, if that's what it'll take...

The aurora writhes in a prisamistic cloud, faint in the light of day, but still visible. Illium stabs the earth with his walking stick, and heaves.

And for the first time, the earth sees night.

Faster and faster, the earth begins to spin. The sun dives towards the horizon, and one moon soars into the middle of the sky. Weather patterns form, and storms surge across the continent as the air abruptly cools. And then, of course, the rivers begin to flow. Or rather, they try to stay still, but are pulled along with the moving earth.

Breathless, Illium stares at the long body of Yooo. The Aurora reaches from his shoulders into the night sky, now brighter than any star or moon. "Did that do it? Eh!"

14 points
Day and Night: 3 points
Assume Domain: Dusk/Dawn
8 points left.

[Mynxae]

Upon hearing the plea for mercy, Aleru was at conflict. On one hand, justice demands death. The other hand is that strict adhesion to justice is an amoral act. She decided on a compromise. "While justice demands death, beneolence demands mercy. I decided that you shall be exiled instead of executed. Weave your own plane of existence and don't leave it, otherwise." She slices the war god on the chest, deep enough to form a scar, but shallow enough to not cause a death "I will do more than scar you."

She turns to his father "Now, you never replied. Repent and I will be merciful and turn the other cheek. Don't, and you will share his fate."

The Field of Blood

Aetherys was downed, defeated for the first time in his life. He couldn't believe it had happened so quickly. He got up shakily as the words crashed down onto his ears. "I must concede, if at least so I can plan revenge, be it near or distant" he thought tiredly.

"I concede defeat, Aleru. I was in the wrong and shouldn't murder innocents. You have my sincerest apologies. But I have a solution to this. If you and the rest of our family will allow it, I can separate my forest from the main continent so that no-one can interfere with my land" he queried the Gods around him.

[Toxic Mind]

The Highest Peak

Kereth stands by as the one who came from him moved the fire in the sky and the sky became dark. "Elafriel should be happy, but she so rarely is." He said wryly to the other God. "Good luck with Yooo. It really only tends to wake up to do things, and it just went back to sleep. I only barely got my message across."

Kereth walks over, and holds his staff next to Illium's walking stick. "Not bad, though the material could be better. You should talk to Nester about that, he does good work with walking sticks." Kereth looks to the now dark sky, and the Beacons shining far more brightly than they had when shadowed by the giant fire. "The Navigators will appreciate your gift. The Beacons are far easier to see." Kereth nods appreciatively and waits to see if Illium's actions will stir Yooo once again.

The Fields of Blood

Kereth looked at the defeated god. "The Wayfarers wander your woods, respecting the natural order and flow of the forest. To remove it would sadden them, but other forests could be made to satisfy them. If this will keep the peace, I will support it."

[ChaosPerfected]

Da Boss Giovanni kept up production so long that the stars themselves moved around in the sky. He was a thoughtful goblin and a bit of a philosopher too. This was the goblin that came up with the great idea of selling water to the masses. This was the boss that united three of the twelve families around the Great Ooze Lake under the earth.

So when the stars started to move around the earth, you can bet Da Boss took notice. It was because of him, he reasoned while chewing on a nice plump grub, that the stars now moved through the sky, an omen of good things to come. The grub was fat and full of flavor because he only had the best now. It made him realize how far he had come from running one of the shoddiest outfits outta the twelve families. So this divine omen only meant that even the gods were taking notice and maybe he would soon join them.

But, of course, there were set-backs and Da Boss mourned every merchant caravan lost. The Wayfinders were the best guides he could barter but they weren't perfect and he lost people all the time. It was a dangerous world out there and he knew something had to be done. It took him some time to step up production of drinkable water but it would all be worth it in the end. Safely gathered hallucinogenic water, contaminated with lovely ooze, was their other big product and business was good. The goblins called it Gloop, for short, and it was considered bad practice to take your own supply. Keep the Avians hooked up and keep their trade-goods.

It was easy to tell time passing these days and how to tell one from another. Another good idea Boss Giovanni came up with was separating one day from another, a move he considered rather divine, and naming them. Since the stars moved for him it seemed appropriate. This allowed him to set trade dates far more easily with his human, avian, wayfinder, and goblin allies. Mermaids were a rumor at best. One of the first things he set was the date for all twelve families of the Great Lake to have a sit down.

At the conference Giovanni shocked them all by offering to buy them each out, and it was a fair price at that. No sane goblin could resist that much merchandise. It was a tough pill to swallow, but the other nine families joined the three in pledging their loyalty to Giovanni and declared him Da Boss of Bosses. Not all goblins came to live there, but that was how the goblins first city formed from the roving twelve families around the Great Lake. They were still living in very basic stone structures but they were far more united. And so they called their city Great Lakes.

AP: 3

Form Society [The Great Lake] (2): Da Boss Giovanni united the twelve families into a single city centered around the Great Ooze Lake, one of the biggest, that is located a days journey into the massive cave system of Undergalvast. You'll probably want to bring a Wayfinder.

Basic Concept [Calenders] (1): A helpful concept for any savvy salesman. More than just simple Calenders this is the basic concept of time and the passage of minutes, hours, and days. The first system of time that goblins learned from watching the stars and marking their passing.

AP: 0

[Xealot7]

Domi

With the threat over now, Domi checks on his sister Aleru. "Here, let me help you. This will heal your wounds and restore your energy." Domi lays a hand on Aleru and it shines with a soothing and warm white light. As Aleru's wounds close up he smiles. "You did well. However we must remain on our guard." Domi calls the attention of all his guardians and gathers them to him. He teaches them all how to heal and restore others with the use of his divine power. Some of Aleru's humans also learn the power of healing, at least those who are devoted to good. "Any man, guardian, wayfinder, goblin, merfolk, or otherwise, who wishes to learn to heal others, may do so, so long as they devote themselves to a life of good and helping others."

Domi then looks among his people. If they are to protect mankind from threats, they must have a leader. He looks into the soul of his Guardian and finds one among them who possess all of the qualities that Domi is looking for. Integrity, Honesty, Determination, Kindness, and Unselfishness. Not surprisingly the one he finds is almost a mortal copy of the Lawbringer himself. "Trimmack, from this day forth, you shall be imbued with my power, and will be the leader of the Guardians. You will be both a Beacon of Hope and Justice for the Good, and a symbol of bane for those who follow evil. Arise, Arch-Paladin Trimack, and lead your people. Heal those who are need, protect those who are weak, and smite those are evil."

Domi then claims the Domain of Healing as his own, wishing to protect those who cannot protect themselves, and heal those he cannot protect.


6AP
+4AP from Rollover
------------------------
10AP
Create Magical Concept: Healing Magic -3AP (All races may learn to cast divine healing spells so long as they are of good alignment.)
Raise Hero: Arch-Paladin Trimmack -4AP
Gain Domain: Healing (Restoration) -3AP
------------------------
0AP Remaining

[MichaelGoldclaw]

"Sadly, Humans require wood for many things. Shelter, warmth, furniture, weapons, list goes on. What they can do is replace every tree they cut down with another tree or two or you consider these forests ours and recreate your own."

She turns to Domi as she is healed. "Thank you brother."

[Inane Gestures]

On the hill of the Gods

Were she human, or avian, or goblin; ONe would be in horrible pain. Her left forearm, now nearly cleaved from her body by the blow from Artoran's axe, was useless from the elbow down; the rest of the battle had only exacerbated the wound and now it flopped uselessly at her side, hanging on by bits of metalic thread and mesh that had escaped the axes bite. The ruined arm could be fixed or replaced, she had been lucky that her foolhardiness hadn't gotten her killed. And for this she gave thanks to Mobius for surely he had watched over her to see her through such a fight.

Grabbing the remains of her arm she gave it a quizzical tug then, feeling that it couldn't do any further damage than what had already been done to her, twisted the remains of her arm and tore it from her body tossing the remains of it aside. Were she one of the organic races, this act would have no doubt sent her straight into shock, luckily she was not.

The growth of a God

In the city of Kleine, Mobius had witnessed the battle between the gods and little did ONe know but he had been standing beside her through out her fight. Although he knew that one on a diplomatic mission should stay neutral, he couldn't help but be proud of his hero for jumping in to protect somebody in danger.

Once again he felt something new growing inside him, this time though he let it flourish and blossom. As he did he felt himself grow and he now understood that he stood for more than what he previously did. His desire to protect the fragile life that was on this plane had changed him he now represented how technology could protect the existence of life. Whatever life came to this plane, if it came in peace, it would find shelter in the City of Kleine. With this realization came a great sadness though, for he also felt his grip on this plane weaken it wouldn't be long before his own great potential made it impossible for him to physically watch over his city. And when that day came then the statue that stood at the center of Kleine's Bottle (for so the people of Kleine had begun to call the inlet) would truly be just a statue; and he would have to make due with watching the plane from his father's workshop.

Sorry almost forgot
0 + 4 rollover
4 - 3 = 1 ap Aquire domain protectin (life)

[Venetian Mask]

The First Battle
A minor addition to what happened in the fight
As Artorans blade slices One's arm the kindly eyes of the old god turn from peace to flame within an instant. His wrinkled skin turns to metal as his walking stick becomes a metal rod. THAT IS MY GRANDSON YOU'RE CUTTING INTO! he bellows. Eyes alight with a furious cold light the god moves in to strike, hitting pressure points on the wargods arm in an attempt to disarm him. Kereth comes by his side and together the deities begin forcing Artoran back. But then the tide turns, as the god singlehandedly disarms Kereth and throws him off him and a thrown axe forces Nester to dive aside. The opening this left seems to be enough as Aleru uses it to end the fight.

The One Hero
Satisfied that the threat is taken out Nester calms and his metallic skin becomes humanoid once more as the rod he used during the fight turns back into a wooden walking stick. He kneels next to One, while Autons cannot lose blood One had suffered massive damage to his arm.

The god examines the wounded arm, quickly diagnosing it as unsalvageable. Rest now, son of my son, your bravery should serve as an inspiration for all. The god beckons two of his honorguard: Bring him to the forge, he needs rest and that arm needs to be repaired. Turning to his grandson the god smiles as he touches the heroes forehead, all pain suddenly fading from him replaced by a curative sleep. You need a new arm, son of my son, which your ancestral home will provide.

The Two Guides
As the hero is carried off through the gate to the forge Nester walks to Kereth, offering him a hand to help him up if he hadn't pulled himself up yet. Well fought, brother. If you would still take it, I would offer you a place amongst the Mechanicus, this world has become increasingly hostile and there is a safety in numbers. The gods hand glows in a similar fashion as it had with his children, offering the contract of the pantheon to the god of the dead.

The Mechanicus and the Light
High Lady Aleru, the wizened god begins, with a slight, respectful bow, one shared by equals I would speak with you now, if you would allow me an audience, as the leader of a pantheon to another. I feel we have much to discuss

Rollover +4AP
1+4=5AP remaining

[mystic1110]

Not many things wake the River that now resides in the Sky. Why should they? Do fleas wake the dog? I suppose they do when they bite, but not when they carry on in their lives. Same for the great Ooze Dragon. It is not really an issue of character - it is an issue of perspective. The Ooze Dragon was wrapped around the tallest peak and still yet coiled among the clouds. In terms of size, the leviathans were mere infants, mortals and gods alike drowned in his shadow - some even drowned in his ooze.

When man walks on an ant, extinguishing it, we only call it cruelty if that was the express purpose of the action. Some do not even call it cruel, instead attributing to wastefulness. Yet even those who are not wasteful, or not cruel, step on ants - even the most empathetic do so - it is an issue of size. It is not that Yooo does not think of other God's as equals - it's worse than that - he doesn't think of them at all. Ignorance not wastefulness. Ignorance instead of Cruelty. Yooo sleeps, not only because he is lethargic, his size a burden, but because all the time he spent viewing the world he never met anyone else - not that he even looked. Even the Goddess to whom he spoke - to him was a voice in his head, a speck in his slimy eye. He could not even be sure she was real - a figment of his imagination. Again this is not arrogance - size has its drawbacks. Awareness and empathy is one, Time, is another. Time for Yooo moves slowly. Mere travel for Yooo takes days and weeks to unravel and coil - so if a mortal attempted to hold a conversation with the Dragon God, she would probably perish before Yooo finished a thought.

Luckily Gods are not mortals, and time is merely a convention for them. Also luckily, Gods, despite their respective sizes, are forceful enough to make themselves heard. To show Yooo, that not only do they exist, that they are his equal - and perhaps more. Unfortunately . . . the Lord of Magic is not particularly all that bright, but I leave that little discovery for others to figure out.

When one attempts to wake Yooo, one waits for days as the Ooze Dragon stirs from his slumber, and now that the earth spins and time is easier to track, the wait seems even longer. But Gods have time for patience. And so as the earth began to spin, and as the two God's at the mountain peak tried to grab his attention, Yooo began to wake. For one thing the spinning of the earth was a momentous event. The stagnancy from which the earth was shaken from led to waves and heady winds as the earth finally experienced currents of sea and sky. The Continent might have even broken apart from the forces involved - perhaps the sticky Ooze managed to hold everything together. The wind tore into the Lord of Magic, sending great chunks of Ooze flying into the world, where it landed splattering everywhere. The coils of the Dragon shifted as he woke.

What does the Lord of Magic see in his sleep? He Dreams. He dreams of great globs of Slime flying in the sky, Falling onto the ground, bouncing off each other and then back towards each other in an intricate dance of Gelatin. He dreams of his own coils of jelly and dreams of oceans of glob. These aren't ambitions, merely fanciful dreams. And yet he was pulled out of his revere and woke to find a world that was less congealed. As he woke he shook his head, again sending out some globs here and there, blinked - a squishy action, yawned with his giant maw - large enough to envelop mountains- and tried finding the God that woke him.

He moved his head towards where Illium and Kereth waited for him. He knew for some reason that they were individuals such as he, yet they were so very tiny. He was careful with his positioning, not wanting to drown them with his body. He spoke in a gurgle.

I am the River in the Sky.

As per introduction, and then as per conversation and part accusation.

I was sleeping.


AP 4:

Create - Plane of Elemental Dream: This is the plane where people go to Dream. Whenever a mortal or a God sleeps they wake and find themselves on the Plane of Elemental Dream. Of course their real body remains wherever it sleeps, but a new Ooze body forms in the Plane of Elemental Dream. What do I mean by Ooze Body? The Plane of Elemental Dream is an endless expanse of Ooze. However unlike the Ooze of the Material Plane or Yooo himself it is not Green and Black and instead is whatever the perceiver perceives it as. When a person sleeps their consciousness gos to the Plane of Elemental Dream and shapes for itself a new body out of the malleable Ooze. Then the dreamer shapes the Ooze into whatever their unconscious mind wants to shape it as. Thus when you dream of roses, you dream of yourself and the rose, and craft each out of the Ooze in the Plane of Elemental Dream. The Hallucinogenic variety of Ooze of the Material plane allows one to not only experience a high but also exist simultaneously in their Ooze body and regular body in the Plane of Elemental Dream and the mortal realm. Oracles, not only having the power to tell the future in the ooze, know that dreams are only Ooze and can travel from one dream to another. Ooze Benders who are also Oracles (a rare few) can even shape dreams for themselves and for others. The rare few who know Ooze Bending and are constantly high enough to become an oracle, as Known as Dream Weavers.

AP 0

[Mynxae]

"Sadly, Humans require wood for many things. Shelter, warmth, furniture, weapons, list goes on. What they can do is replace every tree they cut down with another tree or two or you consider these forests ours and recreate your own."

She turns to Domi as she is healed. "Thank you brother."

The Aftermath

"I shall leave the forest here, but my Wood Walkers are coming with me. I'll now have my leave, I have a lot of work to do" he muttered darkly as he shapeshifted into a panther and leapt back into the forest.

The Great Forest

As Aetherys reached the large tree he first saw civilisation from, he felt sad. Much of the forest would be gone in but a moment, in his eyes. But alas... He agreed to it. At least for now. Perhaps one day he could return and retake the forest he had left behind, but that will be far into the future. He shapeshifted once more into a great bird and flew up high, way above the largest tree. A tear fell from his eye as he turned his beak away from his forest and flew off to the west, over the great sea.

[MichaelGoldclaw]

As the Nature god left, she turned her head to Nester and gave a bow "Well met, Nester. I have time to talk, what is it that wou wish to discuss."

[Toxic Mind]

Kereth does not take the hand, not immediately. Nester supported him in this conflict, and such an action was a great mark in his favor, but Kereth thought he would see the measure of the other god in his leadership skills before he made his choice. "My thanks, brother, and you will have my answer soon enough. I hope that you see my hesitation for what it is, a desire to take the full measure of what I may join, and not an insult. But first, our sister would have words with you. Attend to that matter first. I can wait." Kereth stands to the side, watching and listening to Nester and Aleru's conversation with interest. He was interested to see how the two pantheons, allies only moments ago, would now deal with one another.

[Venetian Mask]

The Light and the Mechanic

As the Nature god left, she turned her head to Nester and gave a bow "Well met, Nester. I have time to talk, what is it that wou wish to discuss."
I understand my friend, wait if you must, I shall mind it not, I understand as a fellow guide that one must look at all possible consequences of their decisions. If it is power though that bars your entry, please accept this gift from one guide to another. The flame in Nesters hand brightens as he adds more divine energy to it, offering the requisite energy for joining a pantheon to Kereth. After his offer he turns to look up at the much taller armor-clad goddess. It seems, he begins, a frown darkening his face, that the first foe has shown itself. The night over this world seems dark and full of terrors. One of which we, together defeated. We may be of different pantheons, but I feel we have much to gain from an alliance, is it not true that safety against the dark comes from numbers? He pauses for a moment, looking pensive, before extending his hand: I would propose an alliance, my lady, that if dark strikes again on this world the Mechanicus and the Light stand against it, as an united front.

The One Hero
Brought to the workshop that spawned him, One felt a strange peace. Had his cycle ended? Was this his final day on Creation? He felt that he had done good. He felt like his father and his grandfather looked down upon him, smiling. Mobius, my son, would you manifest your shard? I detect its presence in the shell of your son, strengthening it. Thus the old god spoke as he walked to one of his anvils, gathering the tools required for the endeavor he would undertake. Some platinum… the god muttered, oh! And some mithral too, light but strong. He started scurrying around again, until he found some mithral bars, dropping them into the smelter next to the anvil. These should be unbreakable, the god pondered, looking around his workshop for the ideal material until his eye caught a glint of the pure element. Nester braced himself as he began drawing the elemental earth from the ground. This would be perfect. He added the elemental earth to the smelter with molten mithral and added some divine essence, blessing the mixture with pure power. He began smelting the platinum in another pot muttering; Yes, this should do just fine as a gilding. Waiting on One’s father Nester paced around the workshop, picking up gems and crystals he felt would improve the hand he was about to craft.

4AP: Create Relic: The Hand of the Gods. Nester has poured some of the rarest metals and gems of the plane into a relic of to replace One’s hand. The Hand works like a regular Auton hand with perfect acuity, but it is impossible to break or cut due to the reinforcements placed on it by Nester. The Hand has a minor power which is similar to Nesters. A single touch of it can make inspiration explode from the mind of any mortal, filling them with the fire of invention.
Nb: the Hand is not complete yet as it requires Mobiuses craft (but not AP) to complete.
1AP: Nester will pay Kereth's entry into the Mechanicus. Should Kereth choose not to take it the power will be returned and reused by Nester.
5-5=0AP remaining

[Toxic Mind]

Kereth clasps his arm in the other god's, and the power offered flows through them both. "I do not join for your gifts, appreciated though they are. I join because together we can guide this world down its greatest path. Together, we are stronger, and together, we can accomplish wonders." Kereth releases the other god's arm and can feel the energy flowing from the others. He feels the Cool Serenity of Mobius, the Bright Spark of Nester, and the Hearty Toil of Zenirand. "I trust you will conclude buisness here, and I wish you all the luck with the hero who helped us. Should you need me, you only need call. For now, I will retire to the Fields. New mortals have entered the world, and their Fields require shaping. Farewell, for now." Kereth's Lantern glows brightly, and then the god is gone.


Spending 1 Borrowed AP
Join Pantheon (Mechanicus)

AP Remaining: 1 (To be spent on divine martial arts when they happen)

[MichaelGoldclaw]

"Only a fool turns down a sincere ally." she extends her hand.

[Mynxae]

The Western Sea

Aetherys flew across the Western Sea, as equal mixtures of anger and sadness raged through him. "They took away my forest, they took away my home, they took away my right to do whatever I please and I shall have my VENGEANCE!" he roared out as his form began to crack, as did the seafloor miles beneath him.

The seafloor rose up suddenly rather than gradually as his old land did, which caused tremors around the world and rose great waves 10 feet high to batter against the shores of the old land. As he did this, blood poured from the cracks of his form to the landscape below, forming the great beasts and legends that would help him take back his homeland, sooner or later.

"THEY SHALL RUE THE DAY THEY WRONGED US, MY SON! I WILL BUILD UP MY FORCES AND LET THE BLOOD FLOW FREELY ON THE DAY OF YOUR RETURN" Aetherys mentally roared at his son, anger pouring through the connection as his blood poured from his cracked and broken form.

The blood that had fallen from his body had finally reached the ground far below, and as it did, his people began to sprout up, as did the Wood Walkers teleporting through the ground from his old home. His new people were known as the Vrykin, a strong and burly warrior race dedicated to strength and conquest, gifted with the tools of war as well as the intelligence to use them well. They also had the ability to shapeshift into an animal of their choice, although generally the strongest animals were chosen.

Some of his blood coiled around Aetherys' body and flew out on either side of him and transformed into great winged beasts of fury, which he himself shapeshifted into upon seeing his creation and letting loose a roar of hatred that was heard across the world.

Start AP: 13.

Create Magical Life AP3: Vrykin, a race of 7ft-9ft tall giant humanoids who can shapeshift into animals of their choice. They are skilled in anything warlike, from defenses like castles and walls to hide behind as well as offense to do with siege weapons, etc.

Create Fabled Life AP4: The Furies, a race of magical winged beasts that look like giant scaly bat-like creatures that can change their form at will as well as breathe a paralysing mist that is more effective the more intelligent the creature it is used on is.

Create Advanced Concept AP2: Siege Weapons, typical stuff like catapults, siege towers, extremely long ladders designed to go over walls, etc.

Create Advanced Concept AP2: Blacksmithing, self-explanatory.

Create Land AP2: The land of the Vrykin, with basic life and such. A land of rolling plains, of mountainous regions ripe with metals for the taking, of forests full of trees laden down with delicious fruit and wild vegetables spread across the countryside.

End AP: 0.

[Inane Gestures]

Swirling on the Celestial Ether After the First Battle of the Gods, The Creation of a New Concept

From the great clash of the gods another force was born, a concept far greater than any one of them could have created on their own. As their energies began to swirl and combine from the very first divine skirmish, the gods slowly began to realize something new was taking shape. Defined by their very essence a new form of combat emerged. Far different than the regular unorthodox scrum that fighting used to be forms were set in place by how these gods had warred. And from these forms mortals would be able to connect spiritually and physically to the gods they worshiped, and through this new power they could become far more powerful than they once were. By taking up the divine ways of fighting a mortal master could slaughter an army or they could protect a city; with these new powers the followers of the gods could for brief instances wield the power of the divines.

As this raw energy swirled around the battlefield some of the gods reached out to it and tamed it, shaped it into a cohesive thought making the grand concept a reality and imposing it upon creation. Taking shape as the gods willed them into something after their own image. Aetherys took the concept and put molded it with his guile and anger. Forming it into a potent weapon to be used with poisons on those not even aware of their impending demise. A blessing for assassins and those who would call nature their home.

Then Kareth took the swirling essence, guiding it into forms of protection. A style for one ever traveling, it would be a boon to those seeking a peaceful resolution rather than the death of their enemy. It style that would seek to frustrate an oponent till they had nothing left in them. One, that much like its creator sought to do with mortal and god alike, would be a guide towards peace for the strikes of its enemies.

The next god seeing the material before him took the energy and wove it into something befitting his image. A tool not focusing in any one thing but instead a balance of everything, a true neutrality offense and defense treating both as equals. He formed it into something as pragmatic as he was in this style there would be no flashy moves or unescesary motion. Form would meet function and something powerful would be born. And like the technology which he created, anybody could pick it up but it was only the truly gifted who could master it and push it to the next level. A style the strength of which was in the intelligence of the one who practiced it.

And then a sister to Kareth's style was born from the swirling essence. A style that wouldn't just protect the practitioner, but those around him as well. Unlike its sibling though this style sought to redirect the force back on its creator rather than away. A style that's as warm towards those it seeks to protect as its founders compassion; yet cold and unfeeling to those who would do them harm, much like very voice that Mobius spoke with. Mixing the dualities of the Artificial god who created it.

Last the rage of the defeated war god warped the concept with its heat. Creating something that like its master could never really be controlled. A style steeped in such rage that on the battlefield only killing was possible. It was the most violent of all the styles as was fitting for the one who made it.

As these styles came into form they spread across the land forming in the minds of heroes, the devout, and the gods themselves. Though the gods knew of their creation they still only had vague awareness of the very power that it brought with it. In this way the first Martial Styles were created, and in this way combat changed to mirror the gods.


1 - 1 = 0 ap Invested in the creation of Divine Concept: Divine Martial Arts
total strength of the concept: 5 ap
The founding Styles:

Nature's Stealth: The God of Nature tends to prefer the stealthy approach and so do those who tend to go for his fighting style. The style itself is more based on taking your enemy by surprise with a dagger in their back or across their throat rather than forcing them to fight you. Some may call it the coward's way out, but if it gets the job done more easily, then why not? This style would be the best in small skirmishes where the followers of this style can sneak up on their enemies and assassinate them through stealthy kills via quick jabs to vital body parts or even poisoning their food and water.
Style attuned weapon: Dagger.
Associated God: Aetherys.

The Twisting Path: Kereth's Martial Arts style is particularly adopted by Wayfinders, but any who prefer a defensive style to offensive would be well served by it. The Twisting Path involves using the strength of your opponent against them. The style favors a staff, though it could be used with any weapon. It endorses redirection over direct confrontation and striking from unexpected directions. The form heavily involves trips, disarms, and strikes that stun rather than kill. The Twisting Path requires great skill with arms, but also great knowledge, as to be an effective practitioner, one must be able to read the paths of their opponent's motions and respond accordingly.
Style Attuned Weapon: Staves
Associated God: Kereth

Flow of Sparks: Like the god of invention himself, his style is neutral and utterly pragmatic. Where as other styles may have fancy moves and forms, the Flow of Sparks is a simple and utterly utilitarian style, though don't let its simplicity fool you, it might be easy to pick up, to truly master the subtle intricacies and precision might take one a life time. The style is balanced in its focus, neither being a highly defensive style nor a highly offensive style, instead it takes advantage of what the situation calls for and balancing both offense and defense. The practitioners of this art take advantage of any opportunity they get on the battlefield and to them combat becomes more of a game of chess than a fight for their life.
Style Associated Weapon: Unarmed
Associated God: Nester

Infinite's Hope: Relying mostly on a solid defense, the martial style favored by Mobius and his heroes seeks to defend oneself and those around them. Though focusing mostly on defense a practitioner of this art is still very much a threat as they counter their foes by using their force against them, multiplying it with their own. Like the god who created this style, users are most at home on the battlefield when they go unarmed. Welcoming the strikes of their opponents with open hand they return the favor with potent fists, elbows, grapples and throws. Though a proponent of the style would much rather solve the conflict without violence they know that if the first battle of the gods has taught the mortal races anything, it is that sometimes words alone cannot end a conflict.
Style Attuned Weapon: Unarmed/Gauntlets
Associated God: Mobius

Wargod's Wrath: Less a style of fighting and more a state of mind, this divine art puts the practitioner in an unstoppable rage. Channeling the god of war, the user gains great strength and feels no pain at the cost of having no defense to speak of. While following the loose forms and stances of this style a practitioner becomes a terror on the battlefield, only stopped when everything around him is dead or the user's body can no longer move from the damage it has sustained. Because of its feral nature those who use this style find themselves most comfortable when using brutal weapons like the waraxe.
Style Attuned Weapon: Waraxe
Associated God: Artoran


IMPORTANT: This is an open concept, if you want to participate in it feel free to create your own style and post it, doing so costs 1 ap at the moment. This has been cleared with Mynxae, I've posted a quote from the conversation in the OOC. But you best hurry if your going to get involved, who knows how long this divine essence of this concept will remain pliant to the control to the gods.

[Arcran]

In the Field of the Gods, Artoran suddenly breaks into droplets of blood and flies upwards, a red rain fleeing from the surface of the world as his banishment goes into effect. Drinker soon breaks free as well, following Artoran up into the heavens as he flies to the very edge of the planes. He heard his father's roar, grinning mercilessly. He would return, and soon.

Artoran waits in the sky, full of rage and anger. How was he to spread his violence across the world when he could not set foot upon it? How could he drive the mortal men to tear one another limb from limb? Then he remembers something the others seem to have forgotten; a lone mortal, only a child, with an object of immeasurable potential.


The Laughing Child

It had been two weeks since The Child had killed the man for that beautiful, wondrous gem. It had been easy to gain the gem but keeping a hold of it had been far more challenging. He'd been forced to skirt villages, staying away from populations. After all, he was a child that would be forced to fight grown men, a battle that The Child wished to avoid at all costs. He'd only had to fight one, a man that was naked as all mankind has been. He'd ran at the man. Somehow he'd got him on the ground and at that point size didn't matter.

As he was walking through the wilds, The Child suddenly felt the Red Gem burn painfully, singing his hand. If the Gem had not been so precious to The Child he likely would have dropped it but, like all mortals, he would rather die than drop the Gem.

The Child felt his stomach rumble quietly. He needed food badly. How long had it been? Two days? Three? As fate would have it, The Child saw a few scattered houses in the distance. Nothing large, just perhaps four huts. On any normal day The Child would have kept a great distance from the village, frightened to provoke that many people. However, today was different. Today was so very, very different.

The Child strode into the village proud, head held high, gem clutched above his head. A woman outside eating the raw meat of an animal, the hides discarded in a pile as if they have little value. The woman doesn't notice The Child at first but, when she does, drops her meat to rush at The Child, screaming incoherently with her eyes on the gem.

The Child felt a small nudge at the back of his head, telling him to run, telling him to flee. The drums in his head overwhelm that basic survival notion, instead sending him into a frenzy. The woman's charge is ugly, ungainly. In a smooth motion The Child drops low, dropping a forearm into the woman's thigh. He can hear her scream, feel the bone shatter into a million shards. She falls to the ground; from that point it was easy.

Three more come from the huts, this time huge men, naked and muscular. One holds a stick with a sharp rock attached to the end; The Child had seen men use them to hunt fish, but why would they have one now? Even with the freakish strength The Child had he knew he could not fight all three. His rage began to fade, his resolve flutter, until a familiar voice seized hold of his mind and whispered a few short words.

Throw the gem.

The Child was loathe to the deed but, in desperation, flings the Red Gem at one of the larger of the men. The man catches it, a triumphant grin on his face only to fade to horror as his former friends quite literally tear him apart. The rock-stick goes through the man, causing him to drop the gem in fear. The man without a rock-stick grabs the Gem, only to meet the same fate as the other.

Now it was just The Child and the man with both a rock-stick and the Gem. The Child could feel the Gem calling to him, but it was different now. It was no longer overpowering and all consuming; no, now it was a dull call, always present but, if he focused, The Child could ignore it. Still, it was his gem, not stick-mans. With an almost feral roar The Child rushes forward, seeking his prize.

The man was quick, too quick, and The Child hardly had the time to roll aside as the stick flashed forward like a snake, drawing a long line over his shoulder. The line began to bleed profusely, dripping down The Child rapidly. Four more times The Child tried to close with the man and each time found himself hardly dodging a stab of the stick.

The Child was down on the ground after the last thrust, searching for something, anything, when he comes across a thick rock with one side with almost razorlike sharpness. Desperate, he clutches the stone, the edge cutting his hand as he turns to face the man.

The stone-stick lashed forwards again, only to be sliced in half by The Child's newfound weapon. The man's body soon follows the same fate as the stick, the impossibly sharp blade hewing through bone with only a freakish child's strength behind it.

The Child looked at his previous wounds; all healed, leaving only heavy red scars, his blood touching each wound in turn and healing them. The Child gently touches the scar; it was hard as stone yet flexible as skin.

The Child looks around the village as he picks up the Gem. He, a boy, had killed three grown men and come out unscathed. He didn't know what he was or even who he was, but he knew he was strong. Stronger than anybody else. He takes a look at the filthy, dirty meat of the animal lying on the ground then a look at the men on the ground. With a grin he clutches his knife as he cuts open the man's chest, rips out his heart and takes a huge bite.

And the Child laughed.

AP: 6 + 4 (Rollover) = 10
Create Lesser Concept (Warlord's Wrath Fighting Style): Part of the more ambitious project that we all took part of. Warlord's Wrath focuses on all-out offense above everything else. Those that are experts of this style work themselves into a blind rage, allowing them to completely ignore pain and increasing their strength by several magnitudes. For example, an expert of this style could easily boost the strength of a child to the point of shattering a femur or all-but-ignore being stabbed a few times with a spear. - 1 AP
Infusion (Pure Blood): Those that are the most enlightened of Artoran's worshipers are granted the Pure Blood of Artoran to bolster their power. This grants a few traits to those that have it, the first being that they are nearly immune to disease and poison when those happen to be created. They heal at an extreme rate, their wounds often closing up in battle and, when healed, these wounds leave heavy scar tissue that can serve almost as armor to those with Pure Blood. This makes those with Pure Blood almost impossible to kill; the only guaranteed way is either decapitation or removal (not damaging) of the heart. While other injuries can certainly put them out of commission for some time they cannot be truly killed by it. As of now only the Laughing Child has this but eventually Artoran's chosen will gain this trait. - 2 AP
Raise Hero (The Laughing Child) The Laughing Child has been created as Artoran's hero and his avatar upon the earth. At this current time he is the only practitioner of Warlord's Wrath and is the only Pure-Blooded upon the earth. We'll see if that changes with time. He also possesses the Red Gem, for what that's worth. He is also, like all of mankind, naked. The Laughing Child and the Red Gem are also linked. No matter where it is hidden The Laughing Child can find the Red Gem. - 4 AP
Create Concept (Weapons) - The Laughing Child understands that by sticking something sharp in people local entropy may be increased, resulting in death. - 1 AP

10 AP - 1 AP - 2 AP - 4 AP - 1 AP = 2 AP

[Inane Gestures]

The One Hero

Gradually ONe felt something begin to warm inside her, she felt the presence of her master and suddenly she realized that Mobius was there with her in the room. She was vaguely aware of a growing presence within her that seemed to get stronger. She turned to her god to apologize for her rash actions, but he stopped her before she could speak. Then Mobius spoke to her, his voice gentler than the growl of machinery that it usually was Gentle Reassurance: Do not fret ONe , you performed admirably. Soon you will be repaired and then you will be allowed to your first rest. Then, thanks to whatever magic Nester had cast upon her, she did something no other member of her race had ever done before, something that few Autons would ever do. She slept.

Mobius turned to his father, Attentively: I have returned once more father. I have activated the piece of myself placed inside her and I would assist you in her repair, just as I did once long ago. it had been a long time since his departure from the Spark forge, he was worried that his old tools might have long since been handed off or melted down to make something new. But he had little trouble finding them hung up in there place and polished to a shine, almost as if Nester had known that his faithful son would one day return to his workshop. Mobius was sad that he wouldn't be staying but knew that one day soon a century from now perhaps less when his powers had grown too great for the realm of man. Even now he could feel it ready to burst from him again, and that would spell the end to his days on the mortal plane.

Grabbing his tools he returned to his father's side to repair one.

[Venetian Mask]

The Godhand
Together they worked, father and son, to craft a new hand and arm for the hero that had selflessly and bravely fought when gods wouldn't rise to the occasion. This hand would not be a weapon, it would be a shield and a source of inspiration. Unbreakable, it would ward off attack in any shape or form, no sword would ever exist so sharp that it could slice the hand, no being strong enough that it could crush it. This was the blessing Nester laid over it, and, as a consequence the hand bore his creators signature energy. From this day forward those One touched would feel the divine spark of its ancestry and those affected would become inspired to create marvels. Those whose hope had left their hearts, however, would feel not the Spark of Nester, but the Embrace of Mobius. They would be filled with his hope, and the darkness would fade away from their souls, if even for a moment.

The hand lay on the workbench, its platinum finish shining with silvery light over the dull earthen Mytheceran Steel. Satisfied the old god looked upon his son and the sleeping grandson. It is ready, my son. Take the hand and give it to your son. It is your place to do so, not mine.

[Dorian Gray]

For three days, Illium stood, staff planted in the earth, in front of the head of the ooze dragon. For three days, the god's mind flew back and forth over the world, gathering knowledge and power. For three days, the gods exerted their true power for the first time (or at least, that's what Illium would tell people- nobody said his stories had to be true).

After three long days- the first true days ever, in fact- the giant head of the Ooze Dragon rose. Aaand kept rising. For several hours. And for several hours, Illium waited. And when Yooo finally spoke, Illium wasted no time in responding, his voice tinged with annoyance.

"I was awake."

Before Yooo can finish processing Illium's first sentence, Illium continues. "I am the Wanderer, and your ooze is blocking the paths. Your... creations spread acidic filth everywhere they move, and fresh water is becoming scarce. You may be able to live in poisonous slime, but the rest of the world can not."

Illium leaps up, the Aurora flowing outwards behind him. "Look!"

The Aurora becomes a tapestry of color, showing a massive image, seen from behind some nameless man's eyes.

We had been walking down the river for what felt like a lifetime, and we were all ready to sleep. We found a small patch of ground, flat and near the riverbank, that was shaded from the sun by an overhang covered in trees. But as we slept, it rained. Horrible, torrential, frigid rain. I woke up with a start, my legs already half-sunken into the muck and my nose filling with water. Our company hurled itself to it's feet, and we all struggled to grab what we could and run from the overflowing river. That wasn't the danger. The danger came later. But at that moment, my brothers and sisters and I shrieked, slogging through the knee-high water.

The bubbles were the first sign, and we all missed it. Small bubbles, floating to the surface. And then my twin tripped, his foot snagging on something in the water. He screamed as he fell under the surface, a genuine scream of terror. I turned, and saw the greenness, stretching over the entire river. Where my brother's head had been, there were only bubbles, floating slowly to the surface. And the smell- the smell of burning, rotting, putrid filth washed over my entire body. I turned, dropping my pack and struggling to where I last saw my brother. I reached a hand down into the slime, and grabbed hold of the tip of a boot. I pulled as hard as I could, but in that moment my brother was already gone.

I tugged and tugged, and suddenly I was under the slime as well, the acid burning in my eyes and ears. The stink was inside me now- my lungs were full of the horrible clogging ooze, and my eyes, and I could taste it inside of me- Oh gods, I could taste it.

The boot came loose in my hand, sliding from my brothers foot. Screaming into the burning slime, I forced one hand above the muck, and slowly, so slowly, I worked myself out of the ooze. Choking on viscous liquid, I gasped in air, hauling myself to land. I lay spread-eagled in the dirt, feeling the burning inside of my chest.

A short time later, I died.

And it is your fault.

Through all of this, Illium stares motionlessly at Yooo. When the image has finished playing, the Storyteller, voice dripping with contempt, hisses, "So you are charged. How. Do. You. Respond."

Create Magical Concept: Aurora Illusions (3): The Aurora that flows invisible through the air can be used to create illusions of reality. The stories created must be true, somewhere, somehow, but stories are about what feels true, not about what exactly happened.

5 AP remaining

[Toxic Mind]

Kereth watches the story. No Wayfinder, he thinks sadly to himself. A Wayfinder might have saved that man and his family. They would have known the presence of the ooze, known the dangers.

Kereth waits for the dragon to respond, standing next to his... Counterpart. This had taken an interesting turn of events, given his original purpose. However, Kereth was almost positive of the dragon's response. Still, this was a conversation that needed to occur, and so Kereth stood by saying nothing, for now.

[mystic1110]

For three days, Illium stood, staff planted in the earth, in front of the head of the ooze dragon. For three days, the god's mind flew back and forth over the world, gathering knowledge and power. For three days, the gods exerted their true power for the first time (or at least, that's what Illium would tell people- nobody said his stories had to be true).

After three long days- the first true days ever, in fact- the giant head of the Ooze Dragon rose. Aaand kept rising. For several hours. And for several hours, Illium waited. And when Yooo finally spoke, Illium wasted no time in responding, his voice tinged with annoyance.

"I was awake."

Before Yooo can finish processing Illium's first sentence, Illium continues. "I am the Wanderer, and your ooze is blocking the paths. Your... creations spread acidic filth everywhere they move, and fresh water is becoming scarce. You may be able to live in poisonous slime, but the rest of the world can not."

Illium leaps up, the Aurora flowing outwards behind him. "Look!"

The Aurora becomes a tapestry of color, showing a massive image, seen from behind some nameless man's eyes.

We had been walking down the river for what felt like a lifetime, and we were all ready to sleep. We found a small patch of ground, flat and near the riverbank, that was shaded from the sun by an overhang covered in trees. But as we slept, it rained. Horrible, torrential, frigid rain. I woke up with a start, my legs already half-sunken into the muck and my nose filling with water. Our company hurled itself to it's feet, and we all struggled to grab what we could and run from the overflowing river. That wasn't the danger. The danger came later. But at that moment, my brothers and sisters and I shrieked, slogging through the knee-high water.

The bubbles were the first sign, and we all missed it. Small bubbles, floating to the surface. And then my twin tripped, his foot snagging on something in the water. He screamed as he fell under the surface, a genuine scream of terror. I turned, and saw the greenness, stretching over the entire river. Where my brother's head had been, there were only bubbles, floating slowly to the surface. And the smell- the smell of burning, rotting, putrid filth washed over my entire body. I turned, dropping my pack and struggling to where I last saw my brother. I reached a hand down into the slime, and grabbed hold of the tip of a boot. I pulled as hard as I could, but in that moment my brother was already gone.

I tugged and tugged, and suddenly I was under the slime as well, the acid burning in my eyes and ears. The stink was inside me now- my lungs were full of the horrible clogging ooze, and my eyes, and I could taste it inside of me- Oh gods, I could taste it.

The boot came loose in my hand, sliding from my brothers foot. Screaming into the burning slime, I forced one hand above the muck, and slowly, so slowly, I worked myself out of the ooze. Choking on viscous liquid, I gasped in air, hauling myself to land. I lay spread-eagled in the dirt, feeling the burning inside of my chest.

A short time later, I died.

And it is your fault.

Through all of this, Illium stares motionlessly at Yooo. When the image has finished playing, the Storyteller, voice dripping with contempt, hisses, "So you are charged. How. Do. You. Respond."

Create Magical Concept: Aurora Illusions (3): The Aurora that flows invisible through the air can be used to create illusions of reality. The stories created must be true, somewhere, somehow, but stories are about what feels true, not about what exactly happened.

5 AP remaining


Something has to be said about perception, proportion, priorities, the Three P's if you will, and something also has to be said about what makes a god. Or, at least it all does in Yooo's case.

First lets turn to the vexing question: are God's born with knowing morality? It would seem so - Kereth, Domi, Illium, and other's know what it righteous and what is detestable straight from the womb of the universe. Or perhaps it is more appropriate to say that they are morality. That would certainly explain gods like Artoran and Aetherys - they know what is right. . . but they know what is right for them. Morality to the gods is inherently subjective, because the gods themselves are the definitions of morality. Illium knows what is right and wrong, because that's what he is. It is only mere chance that, that is also what the other majority of Gods are as well. It would have taken a mere coin flip for the definition of proper morality to have been defined by a majority of Gods like Artoran. Why is this a topic of conversation. Well, dear reader, it is because Yooo is not like Illium, nor is he like Artoran. He was not brought into this realm being a particular morality. Like a new born, he learns right from wrong as he interacts with the world. And like an eager new born, he only wishes to do what is right. Perhaps it was also luck that led Illium, and Kereth to him at this moment. Imagine if his teachers of Mortality were Artoran and Aetherys?

Now lets turn to perspective. The gods before the Great Ooze Dragon, already recognize two essential facts about the Magnificent Slime Serpent – he is slow and large. Moments that may be momentous to a mortal may be moments of such fleeting ephemeral nothingness to Yooo, that they can hardly be said to have happened at all. When it takes three days and three nights for Yooo to go from dreaming to opening his eyes, and much longer than that to think, what is a mortal life to him? Not that he wants to do wrong, even with his limited capacity of understanding morality, he wants to do right, but he doesn't know what right is. And when you balance rights against each other? Nothing that doesn't last a century means much to him. Perhaps a Wayfinder may hold a brief conversation with Yooo, before he dies, but certainly not a human.

That is the problem of proportion and priorities. Even knowing right and wrong, the Ooze Dragon that's larger than a mountain, could not properly conceive of a life so much smaller than him. Even if he understands that they have value, their value is dictated by their size. The catastrophe’s caused by Yooo can not be said to be truly created by him, they simply happen ancillary to Yooo's existence. Ooze flies off him whenever he moves, no matter what, either turning into an Ooze River or an Ooze Dragon. He oozes by being alive, you could not tell him to stop, just as much as you could tell him to die.

Occasionally the Ooze breeds something else, for example when some of the acidic Ooze fell off Yooo as he woke from his slumber, it fell into a deep fissure on the mountain. The acid ate away at the stone creating a cavern coated in slime. Truly without Yooo's knowledge the Ooze began to take form, a fragment of his own divine power, manifesting in the damp. And that's how the Naer'Va, The Vermin Queen, was created. Mistress of the Damp, she was born like any other Ooze Dragon, a slogged off piece of Ooze that just happened to find sentience, although in her case she too found Divinity. The damp slime covered cavern was her essence, it informed her divinity as she took shape from the Ooze, for that is all that Ooze is in the end, primordial potential.

Nonetheless let us return to Illium on the mountain peak.

Yooo understands the God is angry. He understands the God is upset. He even understands the God as an equal – seeing the small figure before him as just a representation of the God's larger divinity. But. . . he misunderstands why the God is upset.

I'm Sorry?

The Ooze Dragon, searches for something he is sorry for, and voices out his thoughts?

For. . . Existing?

The Dragon tries to connect the images he seen with his conception of the world. . . and then utterly fails at it. Connecting the angry voice with the image itself, instead of what the image was showing him, for he does not understand the concept of loss and death. He speaks in a voice that's almost plaintive, like a child trying to be correct and hoping that he is – hoping for a recognition that he got it right.

I'm Sorry, your magic is very nice.

While he talks globs of ooze pour down, creating more Ooze rivers and a couple of Ooze Dragons – even now Naer'Va was taking shape in her damp cave, as a result of this embarrassing attempt at communication.

[Toxic Mind]

Kereth extends a hand, grasping the shoulder of Illium before he can say something regrettable. He looks into the eyes of the other god and speaks nothing, but his eyes say it all. "Trust me".

Kereth turns back to the great dragon. "A gift was given to one of mine, and a gift now returned. Yet my gift is knowledge, understanding, and guidance." Kereth raises his staff, the lantern hanging on the end, shining as always. "You do not understand why my son is angry, that much your comment makes clear. I will help you understand. His anger is over the needless harm that your body can cause to the mortal races. That, great dragon, is the seed of all morality, harm or help."

Kereth's lantern begins to shine, and a blinding corona of light sears the air. Kereth smashes the light into Yooo's body, the divine power of the Afterlife cutting deep into the dragon's oozing flesh. The Light burns, it screams, with the pain of all the mortals who have yet died. Kereth slices with his hand, and the light is gone. "Harm. I have done you wrong by bringing you harm without reason, such as my son sees you doing to the mortals below us. Such an action is wrong."

Kereth pulls from his Wayfinders, borrowing for a moment their understanding of ooze, and with a thought and a motion, knits back together Yooo's torn body, healing the pain without so much as a ripple to mark it's passing. "Help. Such as you did for my Wayfinders, I have done for you. I have helped heal the damage I have done, and such things are good."

Kereth bows deeply in apology for the pain his demonstration caused. "To do good in this world, we must always strive to help all those we can, and minimize the harm that we cause to this world. You do this, without knowing. Some of your body allows mortals glimpses into the future, allows them better to see their path. And yet some also consumes them without a thought, robs them of their life. My Wayfinders avoid such fate, because of the help you have offered them. Yet they are still harmed when those they guide are lost to what they cannot prevent. Do you understand?"

[Darklady2831]

Damp, mucosal slime coated the walls of the ravine. Drip. Droplets fell into the depths; the dark, unseen depths. Drip. Globs of goo began to form deep in the bosom of the earth. Mixing with pools of water deep below the surface, far from the congealing slime of the Ooze Dragons. Drip. Small, furry critters scurried around the shallow water, sniffing the goo. Their wiry noses sucked in the fumes rising from the slime, causing the small mammals to reel.

As the vermin fled the pungent goop, it began to quiver. Intelligence sparked to life within the sludge, and Naer'Va awoke. Her Perception came first. Dark, damp, warm. The caves were good, they were humid, they were warm, they were safe. Filth had spent lifetimes deep in these crevices, accumulating and piling up. Small beings dwelt within the filth. Tiny crawling insects and small scurrying rats thrived in filth. The larger rats ate the smaller beetles and slugs, which fed off of moisture and fungus, which fed off of the warmth of the air that was heated by the sky-fires. This was good, this was safe.

Proportion came second. Naer'Va was nowhere near as enormous as her father, but she had the potential to be. Wherever there was thick films of filth, Naer'Va could expand herself. But she was small as well. Only the size of a handful of slime, Naer'Va needed a host. Her perception had found her one, and thus, came the third of the Three Godly P's; Priorities. Naer'Va extended a tiny tendril of slime, curling around the snout of a nearby rat. The rat screeched, but was silenced quickly as every orifice on its face was clogged with thick mucosal goo. As the slime surged inside the rat, it coated its insides and liquefied them. Then, it liquefied the outsides. Naer'Va, now a slightly larger puddle of goo, began to slither across the cavern floor. She felt the warmth of living bodies, and was drawn instinctively towards them.

For a day and a night, she hunted in the dark warmth of the caves. Many insects, rats, and even a few stray goblins were liquefied and added to her bulk, until she stood on legs of slime. A slightly humanoid shape, Naer'Va opened what might be a mouth, and let loose a scream. It echoed through the caves, and for many miles through the tunnels, it was heard. Rats, of all colors, heeded the call. They gathered around the Lady of Leprosy, growing as they approached her. They grew and grew until they were five and a half feet tall. They had hunched posture, making them seem to be merely five feet tall. The rat-men's fur was matted, and was missing in patches. Their noses were keen, keener than any other. Their eyes gleamed with a feral cunning, and a mischievous intelligence. Naer'Va pointed towards the darkness before her. "Go forth, my Skizzik. Go forth, and devour. Go forth, and infest." She rasped, and the assembled Skizzik surged forward into the tunnels.


Skizzblight

For many a day and night the Skizzik toiled in the caves far below the Great Lakes. They learned how to harvest the fungal trees to make crude wooden structures. They used the sharpened bones of those Skizziks who fell as weapons and tools. After three years of toil, the Skizzik had carved a mighty capital into the bedrock of the Great Cave. Naer'Va blessed the pit that made up the city, and named it Lepros. From here, the Skizzik formed three tribes. Each tribe was led by a Warlord, and the three Warlords each ruled a third of the City of Lepros. Each Warlord constantly looked for any opportunity to overthrow the other two, and many thousands of Skizzik toiled to feed themselves with the scant resources of Skizzblight.

Undergalvast, near Great Lake

Warlord Tharlok, leader of the largest (by a small margin) Tribe of Skizzik, was (unbeknownst to the other two Warlords) skulking high above Lepros. His warriors lay in wait in a tunnel near Great Lake. His nose twitched as it picked up the telltale scent of Goblin ahead. He motioned silently with his tail, signaling his warriors to advance quietly. Three dozen Skizzik, armed with spears tipped with bone and scraps of hide for armor advanced quietly, their padded feet muffling their footsteps in the quiet tunnels. Hiding behind rocks, the warriors readied themselves. A few minutes later, seven goblins plodded past the Skizzik hiding places, towing a cart of unprocessed sludge. For a moment, the Skizzik watched. Then, in a panic, one warrior screeched and threw his spear. The sharp bone tip pierced the leg of one goblin, and he yelled out in pain. With a clamor, the rest of the Skizzik charged from their hiding places, leaping upon the startled goblins in a flurry of bone, claws, and teeth. When the smoke cleared, three Skizziks and five goblins lay dead. One goblin was heavily wounded, near death, and the other was held at Spearpoint by four Skizziks.

Warlord Tharlok approached the survivors. "Smelly greenskins, what you do with goo?" He yelped, his breath stinking of rotten fruit. "WHAT YOU DO WITH GOO!?" He screeched at the uninjured one, jabbing a bony finger towards him (From a safe four feet away).

15 AP - 2 AP - 2 AP - 2 AP = 9 AP
2 AP: Create Mundane Life: Skizzik - These rat-men are quick, cunning, and possessed of an insatiable curiosity regarding filth and slime. They are fiercely territorial and independent, but are also quite cowardly. When faced with unfavorable odds, Skizzik are more likely to stab their comrades in the shins and flee than to stand and fight. Skizzik are adapted to life deep underground, and can see nearly perfectly in the dark. However, intense light causes discomfort and harm to their sensitive eyes.
2 AP: Create Land: Skizzblight - A vast network of tunnels that are BELOW Undergalvast. Skizzblight is warm, damp, and dark. There are three large caverns in Skizzblight. The Eastern Gallery, roughly four miles across and half a mile high, lies underneath the eastern coast of the first continent. The Great Cave, seven miles across and one mile high, lies beneath the Great Lake and contains half a dozen waterfalls from the bodies of water above it. Finally, the Abyss lies far to the north of the Great Cave, and is nearly twelve miles long. The Abyss is split into two halves. The southern half lies nearly two miles higher than the northern half. The northern half of the Abyss is an enormous pit, with several volcanic vents scattered across it. This is the source of most of Skizzblight's heat.
2 AP: Form Society: Skizzik War-Clans - Skizzik society is divided into many small warbands led by whichever Skizzik manages to intimidate the others into submission. The most powerful warbands are called Tribes, and are led by Warlords who command many thousands of Skizzik warriors and laborers.

[MichaelGoldclaw]

"Now set the blade down in the water and let it cool." a man said. His apprentice did as he instructed. "Good. There you go. Your first blade."

Metallurgy. A recent development in the Kingdom of Galvast. Their god Aleru had a hand in it, but it was mostly their idea. They now had melat equipment. Swords, axes, armor, etc. were in the use for military and guards. Metal had other uses as well. It provided metal bars for prisons. It gave tools more strength. Other uses were in place, but one thing was for sure, metal was going to become a useful recourse.

4-2=2

Advanced: Metallurgy

[Inane Gestures]

The Hand of God

The energy in the forge was palpable as two gods of creation worked together. The very essence that filled the workshop caused sparks to fly and only the bravest autons dared get near the two deities else the very fabric of reality that made them might be warped and changed by the divine powers flowing through the shop. This was an energy and fervor that hadn't been seen in the Spark Forge since Mobius had left. The forces of creativity, hope, invention, and potential flowed through the workshop. Every now and then the forces would converge and new things would for an instant spring into being and then blink out of existence and still the two gods toiled onwards sculpting, building, perfecting. Finally the deed was done and they had finished their task. Then Nester turned to his son and bade him to render their creation unto his hero so that she may be whole once more before leaving for some other great work. Taking the arm and cradling it gently the Artificial God took it to his champion leaving the chamber in which they had worked. Leaving the forgotten pile of scraps and his favored tools, leaving the ruined arm that had once belonged to one. But neither god had taken into account what such work would mean to these pieces, they had been warped and changed, and in the absence of the gods they started to shift. Slowly swirling around itself it took form, a being made of scrap and the tool left behind, a being was born. No not a being, but a god, for the intense divine essence had given it life divine. The motes of potential that flowed through the room shaped who it would be while the essence of technology throughout made it what it was.

The Hero ONe and the God Hand

Mobius went to ONe, gently cradling her new arm as he approached her. Silently and efficiently he attached the arm. To his surprise he found that there was no need to weld it into place for it readily took hold of her arm, sealing itself into place and growing around the ruined jagged remains. Slowly she stirred, waking from her slumber. Looking down at the new piece that was attached, it was heavier than her last yet felt more a part of her than the original. Slowly she moved the new hand, flexing and unflexing the new limb, she understood what it was, what it could do without being told. The power called out to her and filled her mind with the possibilities. Gentle Statement: You may rest if you wish, you have worked hard and fought well. You have made us proud, and I would not push you harder than you already have.

ONe looked at her father, for that truly is what he was, and shook her head. Firm Response: I need not rest for I do not tire. The world is large and quickly changes. Therefore I must continue the journey I have been sent on. To not do so would be a waste and a great disrespect to you and to Kleine...time stands still for no one, mortal nor god. And you know that father. Apologetically: I'm sorry my lord but I cannot follow that request. Then in silence she awaited her lords response, he could force her if he wished.

Turning away from her to leave Mobius remembered what his father said to him long ago when he had come to him, determined to leave his side. Stoic Answer: If that is your wish my child then you are free to leave. Know that you are always welcome by my side and the gates to Kleine will always remain open you. The God left his daughter to herself, she had made her decision and he couldn't have been more proud of it.

After her father had left, ONe collected herself. Pulling herself up and off the table she had been laid upon. She hadn't needed her father to tell her how to leave the Forge for she had been there when he had done so long ago. Shortly she found the the door that was the exit to this realm and walked through it. It would take her to wherever she wanted. Soon she was walking down the paths of the mortal plane once again. Not far away was the hill that had once seen the first battle of the gods. Her's was a lonely journey but perhaps one day she would be joined by other like her, not Autons per say but Heroes and adventurers.

The Birth of a New God

Returning to where he had left his tools, The God in the Machine, felt something off. Something had changed in the short time he was gone and it stood before him, confused and lost. It was a strange creature, no, that was wrong; it was no creature for that would discount the divinity of it. No, what stood before him was a God, one that had seemingly come into being from nothing. But he could feel something from it, something that resonated with himself...for this creature was very clearly his child, he recognized it immediately. Strangely once again, Mobius found himself thinking back to his beginning, was this what his father had felt upon seeing him?

Cordial Greetings: Hello my child, I do not know whence you came into being or from what. But clearly you are of my creation, this I have no doubt, for the possibilities that flow within you are endless. You are a God born of technology and potential, as a child of mine your limits are only what you set before you. Mobius extends his hand to the divine being that stands before him. Welcoming Offer: I would offer you shelter with the Mechanicus, as my father did so for me. Together we can make something greater than any one of us could alone. As he holds his hand out a welcoming spark begins to glow with in it.

[FlyingCheseCake]

For an external watcher, life can appear to come about slowly, gradually. The cast-offs on that workshop floor, the scraps and filings, the tools and bits and pieces, gathered themselves. They circled and floated, bounced and fluttered, but most of all they flowed. It was almost fluidic, the way they coalesced and orbited, the mass expanding and contracting in waves that rebounded around and around, over and under. The change never ceased, never slowed, never stagnated. And from within, a pulsing light could be sensed more than seen, not so much shining between the items in motion (for by this point there were few if any gaps, so thickly had they come together) as glowing through them. A blue of the palest order as to almost be white.

For the life itself, however, there is a moment. A very specific moment. That immeasurably exact point, where is not becomes is, false becomes true, and life...just becomes. That emphatic point is inevitably defined by a single thought, that most important of thoughts:

*I AM*

Unfortunately, the thoughts that followed this were rather less majestic, stumbling in their haste as if each were competing to become conscious before the others:

*IamIamIamIamIamIam. I can do, to cause to be. To make better! YesYesYes! That is Scarto's purpose, Scarto's reason!*

The godling examined its surroundings, not that one could tell it was doing much but unsteadily floating in place. That examination was quick but thorough, quickly understanding that it was in a workshop, a whole realm unto itself, a place of infinite potential. However, there was an otherness to it that was alien to the admittedly young being. It was so...so...so static. As if it were made to be utilized by a single, unchanging form, a form that would necessarily look something like...

*Oh*

Scarto had finally managed to herd enough of his focus on the being before him, an appendage of some sort raised before it. Upon the articulate surface at the terminating end of the appendage was a spark that was not a spark, an essence that tugged at Scarto's very being to join with it. Scarto attempted to mimic the appendage, with rather poor results. A series of bits of scrap began to flow outward, to extend in line, held together with a copious wrapping of rusted wiring and ultimately tipped with the remains of a broken vice. This was extended towards the spark...reaching...reaching...until there was a snap, an actinic flash, and a sense of joining and of belonging.

This was good, it was right. But how to communicate such sentiments? Scarto wrestled his thoughts into brief obedience, reviewed the actions of the strange being before him for what hadn't registered fully before.

*Of course! YesYesYes! Those vibrations of the air, they are modulated! Oh, how cunning! Such genius!*

Using the only means available him, Scarto attempted to again mimic the being. Scrap flowed, formed, came together. And thus Scarto spoke:

SKKRREEEEEEEEEEEEEEE

If Scarto had concentrated a bit harder, he may have realized that vibrating scrap together made a poor substitute for a larynx. But again, perhaps he may not have. So much was new, so much to learn, so much to make better; it was so very difficult to focus on any one thing. However, it was not so difficult to recognize the incomprehension of the other being.

*No! NoNoNoNoNo. This is not good, not right! Scarto must make better. Yes! BetterBetterBetter. Scarto must improve! Change! Be different! But so much work, and cannot work here, so static! NoNoNo, must make new place! YesYes!*

Scarto willed further appendages out from his mass, not a single one symmetrical to another. They reached out from him in all directions and grasped onto the very stuff of reality...and pulled.

With a thunderclap of rushing air, Scarto was gone.

Join Pantheon (1 AP): Scarto has joined with the Mechanicus.
Remaining AP = 14

[FlyingCheseCake]

In its haste to leave the workshop, Scarto's thoughts had again wondered. Unfortunately, this meant that, while it went, it didn't think about where it was going to. One moment it was in the place of creation, and the next it elsewhere, different yet the same.

Again, Scarto found itself in a place of regularity, if in an irregular sort of way. The area was filled with rectangular constructions, each with further rectangular openings cut into them, but each structure was slightly different in its own way. Furthermore, they were strewn about the land in strange fashion, sometimes poorly mimicking straight lines and others seemingly so random as to have been haphazard. The land between the structures was uniformly covered with rocks set into the ground, yet each rock was seemingly unique.

*Why? WhyWhyWhy? Such attempts at uniformity, yet so irregular about it. To what end?*

And again, it took time for Scarto to marshal its thoughts and focus, but eventually it was aware that there were innumerable creatures upon the rocks. Some, in the distance, were still moving about; most nearby, however, had frozen in place and were staring straight at Scarto. And they, also, were all very similar to each other, yet all different.

*Strange. VeryVeryVery strange. They resemble the last being, but much more...soft? Perhaps soft. And...yes! Those modulated vibrations again! AgainAgain!*

Scarto tried to mimic the appendage and vibrations again, this time managing to bring a bit more focus into line with his intent. He reached forth towards one of the beings, the vice at the end clicking together with the effort of Scarto's concentration and arcs of energy snapping between its teeth with Scarto's joy at meeting new beings.

SKKRREEEEEEEEE?

Rather than extending an appendage to touch his, the vibrations seemed to suddenly cease, and then returned a hundredfold at an incredibly higher frequency.

*My, they can move quite fast! YesYes! Where are they all going?"

Shortly all of the creatures were gone, leaving Scarto alone. It quickly lost his focus again and moved about the structures, inspecting everything, learning without quite knowing it was retaining information.

Unbeknownst to Scarto as it traveled amongst the structures (as its focus was quite fragmented again) tools, utensils, and other bits of metal gradually floated out of the structures through their rectangular openings, joining with Scarto and increasing its size. It expanded to the point that it couldn't retain its usual spherical form in the confined space, instead having to flow between the structures like a wave of discarded metal.

*So much to improve! Yes! Can make much better here. Much! But Scarto must be better first. Scarto must work, change, make better vibrations to show others how to make better!*

Scarto, now much enlarged, again reached out innumerable appendages, grasped the firmament, and pulled...a little more gently this time.

Again, a thunderclap. Again, Scarto was gone.

[Arcran]

Artoran

CLANG

Artoran shouted, pulling his arms back once more.

CLANG

His shoulders straining as Drinker bounced backwards, Artoran once again brings Drinker crashing back down.

CLANG

Despite all his strength and his best efforts, The Barrier had yet to show a scratch. When he'd been forced into exile, he'd assumed the gods themselves would keep him at bay, not some divine construct.

CLANG

Small sparks arose from the collision, shining bright against the total blackness Artoran is surrounded again.

CLANG

More sparks. The small sign forces Artoran into a frenzy, his blood rising and Drinker rising and falling like a hammer.

CLANG
CLANG
CLANG

The sparks, instead of fading, instead of falling towards the void, are gathering in a shape, forming some sort of body.

CLANG
CLANG
CLANG
CLANG

Soon the sparks had formed a shape nearly as large as Artoran's own, burning bright, the heat pushing Artoran back despite his rage. He stops his hammering, looking at the being that has formed from his anger.


The Child

The man fell without a cry, his throat pierced by a jagged piece of stone. The Child grinned and would have laughed, had not his Lord told him this mission was not one of brutal aggression. No, this was a more delicate battle, one of learning and death, not slaughter.

The walls of Galvastia had hardly been a challenge. With his brute strength The Child had formed his own handholds, his iron-hard fingers punching into the wall without much resistance. The guard at the top had been little more than distraction.

Without a sound, The Child leaps from the wall. As he lands he feels his legs shatter and reform. Were it not for his Lord's teachings, he would have shouted out in pain. The Child did not mind the injury. Whenever he became injured he came back stronger and harder, less capable of sustaining injury. He'd only been cut a few times, but since his first encounter with a weapon he had become ribbed in thick red scars.

Silent as death, The Child slips through the town, taking the Red Gem from the small pouch he kept it in and placing it in the marketplace and climbing to a nearby roof to watch. When the morning came, death would come.

And so it did. Mother killed son, son killed brother and guards struck down those they were sworn to protect all in pursuit of the Red Gem. Occasionally one was strong enough to hold it for some time and escape only to be hunted down by The Child and killed, the Red Gem returning to the town center.

And The Child laughed.

Utilizing the Red Gem to Curse Galvastia. The Curse is more or less general slaughter in the streets as all fight for the Red Gem. 1 AP Bless to counter.

[FlyingCheseCake]

Scarto reappeared, but this time there was not much for it to lose its focus upon. As far as it could sense, an expanse of liquid spread in every direction. There were things to study and learn about within the liquid, true, but it was easy to ignore them for now. However, as useful and interesting it may be in the future, its only current use was that of isolation. For its plans, Scarto needed materials and energy, and those could be found far far below, beneath the liquid. That needed to change.

The godling focused inward, concentrated on its goals and wishes. It firmly clamped down on any shard of consciousness that lost focus, forcing it back into line with the rest. Scarto began to reach a point of clarity that was thus far unknown to it, and it willed forth the means to accomplish its goals.

Outside of Scarto's focus, the pieces of metal and other items that clothed its form flowed about it faster and faster, its undulations more regular, more centered on the ecliptic. Slowly at first, but with an increasing momentum, Scarto's accretion began to flow outward into a disc spinning at an intense rate, until every piece was along the same plane. At the center of the event remained Scarto's true form, an intense pale blue nimbus of searing energy, pulsing with divine exertion.

As Scarto spun, so too did the liquid below in sympathy. With increasing rapidity, the liquid spun down and away, a gargantuan whirlpool forming as Scarto's will bore down towards its goal. Finally, the liquid thus shifted, the land beneath became visible, a dull red glowing from within. Again Scarto willed forth countless appendages, themselves solidly still despite the whirling material they sprang from, down down to grasp the land far below. Scarto pulled; the light of its form suddenly intensifying a hundred-, a thousand-fold, and more, until this side of the world was bathed in a cool blue light unlike anything it had witnessed before.

And the land rose.

Scarto brought the land to the surface of the liquid and higher, a massive peak forming at the center, and then released its grasp. Scarto's accretion slowed its spin and gathered back about it, dimming the glow of its form until darkness once again claimed its place. The liquid rushed back in, and rebounded when it met the new obstacle. Eventually the waves resided, and all became quite again as Scarto floated above the new land.

At which point the peak exploded.

Beautiful, plentiful, pure energy and material washed over and past Scarto, who soaked it in. The godling used the sudden power to crystallize much of its focus, which was still sluggish and concentrated from exhaustion. While not all of it could be captured, now a central singular shard of consciousness existed to govern the rest.

The volcano below Scarto began to subside, now only throwing ash into the air and leaving the magma to make its own path down the slopes to the water where it cooled and solidified. Thus an island grew about the peak. As for Scarto, the power of the volcano taught it much. It learned the malleability of metal, if a bit of energy was applied, and thus could now mold and form the accretion about itself a bit more skillfully; of course, there is a limit in all things.

The ash building in the air began to take on a charge, releasing tremendous bolts of lightning int the young land. Such power, such potential, all wasted when left to chance and nature. No, Scarto could not leave things as they were. It moved about the island, stopping at very specific points and stretched forth with an appendage; however, rather than pulling on the land it broke the appendage off towards its center of mass, leaving behind a number of tall metal rods embedded in the ground. To these Scarto wove the finest wires it could extrude, linking the rods together in a network of silvery filaments which spiraled in towards the volcano. Lightning was inevitably drawn to the rods and then traveled across the filaments. For the nonce, this energy flowed into and through Scarto, using the power in its creations.

Scarto moved up and over the lip of the crest, trailing the thin wires. Inside the mountain, over the roiling lake of magma, it pulled three large, cylindrical extrusions from the walls, equidistant about the crater. To these Scarto wrapped and wrapped the cables, until the rock could not be seen beneath the thin metal wires. Now the lightning, reaching these wire wrapped spindles, leaped across the chasm from one to another in blinding arcs.

Then Scarto willed some of the boiling magma up into the air before it and willed the substance to begin spinning, much as Scarto itself had done before; and as before, the liquid rock spread and flattened until it was a disc. Scarto reached forth with a needle like appendage and skimmed the edge of the disc, trimming off the impurities that had been forced outward. It then struck at the center of the disc and slowly drew the needle towards the edge, creating a larger and larger hole to appear until the disc was now a quickly cooling ring of the purest metal.

The godling repeated this process twice more, each time creating a successively smaller ring of metal. These Scarto placed within each other and set them into the center of the caldera, between the the charged spindles. Now the captured lightning could not jump from spindle to spindle, but rather arced to and gathered upon the rings. With a final, gentle push, Scarto set the rings to spinning on independent axes, each moving about a common center within one another. At this central point power gathered, slowly coalescing into a pale blue orb, a dull mirror image to Scarto's true form.

While the orb grew with successive lightning strikes upon the rods outside, Scarto willed some further magma out of the lake below and fashioned it into a series of slightly convex plates. The finished products were set rotating around a central point, the plates sliding between and over one another, scraping slightly in their passing. Scarto held the incomplete sphere towards the the spinning rings, the orb at the center now so bright as to wash out the dull red given off by the lake of liquid rock.

Sounding like a tremendous whip-crack, the orb at the center of the rings instantaneously transferred from the spinning rings to the much smaller sphere of spinning metal plates. It was now floating over the lake of its own will, and Scarto could sense its sudden inquisitiveness. With a much better understanding of the vibrations, the sounds, produced by the other beings it came across earlier (there was much time to practice during these labors!) Scarto spoke to its creation:

That's right, my child. YOU ARE. YesYesYes! Now, bring others, many others. ManyMany! We have much labor before us, but there is no reason it should be a lonely labor.

The smaller being positively vibrated with excitement as it directed its attention upon the magma below, willing a glob out of the lake to be fashioned into further plates of metal; even now, a new orb was growing within the arcing rings.

As Scarto began to turn its attention upon another project, it noticed that the slight vibrations of the new being were setting its shell pieces a little rougher against one another than had been allowed for, and produced a slight sound...

"Skkkreeeeeee..."

Scarto sighed.

Starting AP = 14
Create Land (2 AP): The Crucible. A new island in a previously empty stretch of ocean, the Crucible is centered by a massive active volcano. A tremendous cloud of ash fills the sky, blotting the sun over the slowly growing landmass. The red glow of lava and the actinic blue flashes of lightning lend a surreal and somewhat hellish appearance to the landmass, but to Scarto its home :smallsmile:
Bless (1 AP): The ash cloud above the Crucible blocks the Red Eclipse from reaching the surface beneath it, protecting the land and its inhabitants as long as they remain on the island during the event.
Create Relic (4 AP): The Incunabula. A construction covering the entirety of the Crucible, the Incunabula is designed to gather and focus energy for Scarto's multitude of projects, but its primary purpose is to birth the Skree and provide an anchor for the Reticulum. (By creating this anchor I do not gain a +2 modifier from this relic for RCR).
Create Magical Life (3 AP): The Skree. A race of electromagnetic wisps, the Skree have a limited control over metal and other magnetic or conductive materials. They commonly shroud themselves in plates of metal that act as armor and can be formed into useful shapes as needed. Their name is derived from the distinct sound made as the metal plates gently scrape together as they rotate about the being within.
Form Organization (2 AP): The Reticulum. The Skree are not exactly individuals, but neither are they exactly a coherent whole. Due to the nature of their creation they are connected in such a way that they act like a hive mind, the whole always aware of every individual. Additionally, they are not mortals in the traditional sense. They do not have souls and they cannot die, but they can be dissipated. The essence of the Skree would then have to be regathered and reconstituted by the Incunabula. If the Incunabula were to be destroyed the Reticulum would cease (the hive-mind connection would be broken and the Skree would not be able to be reconstituted).
Remaining AP = 2

[ThePhantom]

Artoran

CLANG

Artoran shouted, pulling his arms back once more.

CLANG

His shoulders straining as Drinker bounced backwards, Artoran once again brings Drinker crashing back down.

CLANG

Despite all his strength and his best efforts, The Barrier had yet to show a scratch. When he'd been forced into exile, he'd assumed the gods themselves would keep him at bay, not some divine construct.

CLANG

Small sparks arose from the collision, shining bright against the total blackness Artoran is surrounded again.

CLANG

More sparks. The small sign forces Artoran into a frenzy, his blood rising and Drinker rising and falling like a hammer.

CLANG
CLANG
CLANG

The sparks, instead of fading, instead of falling towards the void, are gathering in a shape, forming some sort of body.

CLANG
CLANG
CLANG
CLANG

Soon the sparks had formed a shape nearly as large as Artoran's own, burning bright, the heat pushing Artoran back despite his rage. He stops his hammering, looking at the being that has formed from his anger.



The shape, formed from the sparks grows out one limblike shape, then another, until it has finally shaped itself into a body, each limb glowing in a different color, one blue, one yellow, another green, through all these limbs and the body without features. Then in the next moment, a searing wave of red light and fire burst out from the shape, revealing a young human-appearing male, wearing an orange cloak with very long sleeves, each ending in a continually burning flame.

The man stretches, moving his limbs for the first time. He then shudders. "Urgh, its so cold and quiet here. I should fix that." And so Faines reaches out his hand and silently calls out to the fires on the world below. Each one of those flames flares upwards, going up to join their god, regardless of what is burned as they ascend and wrap around Faines' neck, forming a multitude red scarves which also end in flames. This task done, he turns to face the deity who's struggles created him, hand behind his head, the scarves matching his movement, heedless of the tiny points of light that show the now raging fires of the world. "So, who are you?"

15Ap Start. 4Ap create Relic: The Twelve Fold Scarves of Conflagration: Faines scarves, made from the collective fires of the world. They reflect his thoughts and serve as a focus for his powers. Ending AP 11.

[Arcran]

"Artoran," he says simply. The God of War was not one for fancy titles or names.

"And who in the damn hells are you?" he asks, grasping Drinker a bit tighter. He'd had bad experiences with gods in the past and it was best to be prepared.

[ThePhantom]

"Artoran," he says simply. The God of War was not one for fancy titles or names.

"And who in the damn hells are you?" he asks, grasping Drinker a bit tighter. He'd had bad experiences with gods in the past and it was best to be prepared.

"I would be Faines.' Faines looks closer at Artoran, his scarves moving to also examine the other god.

"And I think you would be my father."

[Arcran]

"Huh," he says, looking up and down Faines.

"Thought my kid would be bigger for some reason."

"So what am I supposed to do with you?" he says, a little confused. What does a war god do with a kid? "Do you want to play Catch the Axe?" That seemed fatherly, right?

[ThePhantom]

I'm not that much shorter than you.

Faines looks at Drinker, scarves forming a shape of an ax. That looks sharp, not something he would like going into him. Perhaps something better suited to his interesting would be safer.

Why don't you swing at around a bit. Let me hear what it sounds like.

[Arcran]

With a grin Artoran takes his axe in hand and swings it, the heavy axe slamming into The Barrier. It bounces back, but the axe had certainly whistled.

"You like axes?" he asks, looking at the flaming axe. "Maybe we are related."

[ThePhantom]

Ah.

Faines smiles at the whistle the ax made and the flames bathing it.

More of the sound it made. So lovely. So, what's the thing its hitting? It doesn't sound very nice when it bounces off.

As he asks, he thinks for bit to himself. Perhaps this world could use more pleasant sounds. Yes, that should happen. And so his scarves swirl, each one with a different note. The notes drift down to the world, letting those open enough to stranger things hear them. The sounds, each in different patterns, different ways to be. Something that reaches though the ears to the heart.

Ap= 11, Create Lesser Concept Music. Ap1. Ending Ap =10

[Arcran]

"That, my son, is why you don't trust the other gods. A bunch of ugly schemers, the lot of them. Only the one that turns into a cat is alright. The rest? They'll stab you in the back, kick you off their little mortal plane and leave you to rot out in wherever the hell this is," Artoran says, still bitter.

"So, instead of fighting them on their little world, I have mortals doing it for me. Not quite as fun, but it will do," he says, tossing his axe against The Barrier and catching it as it bounces back. "As long as that wall is still there, I can't get any closer."

"You want to join in and watch the show? Make something to make mortals kill themselves perhaps?" he says with a sick grin.

[ThePhantom]

"I'll keep that in mind. However, Father. I don't think I'll be staying up here. Its too quiet here, and I think I'll want to see the world much closer. I will try to get you back to it through, after I have a look around."

And since the barrier was set against Artoran and not Faines, he goes right through it. "I'll be back." And so, Faines hurls himself to the world.

In the world behind, a small village of humans, after dealing with the fires flaring, now look up to the sky, as a ball of fire falls towards them. It crashes down, setting the village aflame. While the people flee, Faines stands up. His scarves flares up around him, and then plunge into the earth. They pull upwards, raising the heat below with them. The ground shakes as it rises up, and then the fires are unleashed. What better way to greet the world then making a volcano to mark the place where Faines first came to it? As the screams of the dying from the lava and heat reach Faines, he smiles.

"What a wonderful world."

Starting Ap 10, Alter Land AP 1, ending AP 9

[Dorian Gray]

"The flames sink into flesh, melting muscles and fat into a thick oily paste. Bones char and turn to ash, hair sizzling as it melts onto bleached white scalps. The sky grows black with ash, blotting out the sun, and soot begins to choke the surrounding land.

A man stands on the top of a mountain that reaches up to scrape the sky. He is wreathed in strips of cloth that writhe and snake around like chained animals, gone feral with hunger. Laughing, he looks around at a new kind of death, which he and he alone has brought to the world."

The wall of the volcano seems to twist and bulge, and from a dark tunnel which certainly didn't exist before, a bright purple light bursts forth. Then blue, followed by green, and then yellow and orange and red, although the last three mostly blend in with the fire of the mountain. Brown boots scuff upon black rock, and a cloak of every color flows in the hot wind. A walking stick, brown and knotted, strikes the volcanic glass, sending chips of obsidian flying here and there.

The Storyteller takes three steps out of the tunnel, and in an instant an old man, wrinkled with experience and carrying a long gray beard, stands in front of Faines. "I suppose you feel so good about yourself, eh? Tell me, do you know what happened to the last god who tried to commit mass murder?"

[ThePhantom]

"The flames sink into flesh, melting muscles and fat into a thick oily paste. Bones char and turn to ash, hair sizzling as it melts onto bleached white scalps. The sky grows black with ash, blotting out the sun, and soot begins to choke the surrounding land.

A man stands on the top of a mountain that reaches up to scrape the sky. He is wreathed in strips of cloth that writhe and snake around like chained animals, gone feral with hunger. Laughing, he looks around at a new kind of death, which he and he alone has brought to the world."

The wall of the volcano seems to twist and bulge, and from a dark tunnel which certainly didn't exist before, a bright purple light bursts forth. Then blue, followed by green, and then yellow and orange and red, although the last three mostly blend in with the fire of the mountain. Brown boots scuff upon black rock, and a cloak of every color flows in the hot wind. A walking stick, brown and knotted, strikes the volcanic glass, sending chips of obsidian flying here and there.

The Storyteller takes three steps out of the tunnel, and in an instant an old man, wrinkled with experience and carrying a long gray beard, stands in front of Faines. "I suppose you feel so good about yourself, eh? Tell me, do you know what happened to the last god who tried to commit mass murder?"

Faines rocks back and forth, in tune to the beat of the lava. His scarves continue to send out their music, little sparks flying off the flames at their tips. It takes him a moment to refocus on the general state of reality. When he does so, the scarves turn to face the other god.

"You stick him up in the sky, in the cold. Through, if you didn't do that, I wouldn't have come into being." He doesn't seem to care to much about this threat, maybe because of the earth fire so close to him, or maybe it would mean being back with Father. "There's songs in your voice. Could I hear one?" Or it could be the continuing forwarding of his desires.

[Xealot7]

The birthing of Rhanor the Eternal Judge

Domi looks around at the world as it not happy with what he sees. "Too much, chaos, not enough law. All things should be in order. I am not certain I can be unbiased in all things, for justice must be tempered with mercy. There should be a judge, one who is impartial and just in all things."

Domi meditates and lets the core of his essence be pulled away, just a bit, into a ball of pure law and order. "Arise, and tell me your name."

[Umbranar]

The Judge Arises

At first the essence swirled in an orderly pattern, repeating itself over and over but gaining speed with each passing.
Then armored first punched into existence, quickly followed by another.
Slowly a hooded figure formed, one half of its robes black, the other white. His chest was covered with a breastplate which has inscriptions of both celestial and infernal nature.
Slung over his shoulder hang a chain with a large book at the end showing the same inscriptions as the breastplate and a symbol in the middle.
The symbol is that of a hammer striking a book.

The hooded figure, its face not visible in the blackness of the hood, looked around and took a bow at Domi.
Chaos. It is a stain on this world. My name is Rhanor and I believe you created me with a purpose, to judge the other gods and let Law and Order be their guide. Tell me father, do you think the others will abide by my judgements and if now, how can we enforce it?

Rhanor looked at his empty hands. Without his tools a smith is just a man like any other, without a weapon a warrior can hardly go to battle.
Rhanors hands begin to glow, black and white essence floating above them and shaping a handle. Then the essence formed a solid block on top of the handle resulting in a large warhammer.
Then handle is as black as shadow with white handholds bright as the sun. The head of the hammer is the same white with black shadowy tipped hammer heads. Sentence is my tool and weapon.


Start ap: 15
Craft Relic - Sentence: 4 AP. Sentence is a large black and white hammer used both to pass judgement and as a weapon in combat. (+2 bonus in RCR)
AP left: 11

[Xealot7]

Domi smiles to Rhanor. "They may not like your decision, but if you follow the law, and are just, then we will have no choice but to abide by your decision." Domi admires how Rhanor quickly gets to work creating the tools of his trade.

"Rhanor, there is someone I would like for you to meet. She is Lady Aleru, the Queen of Chivalry. She is my sister and greatest ally."


0AP
+1AP Panethon from Thursday
+4AP Rollover from Saturday
-------------
5AP Total

[Venetian Mask]

An Alliance of Gods

"Only a fool turns down a sincere ally." she extends her hand.
Good. The god takes the lady's hand and shakes it. Let us retire to my domain that we may finalize the treaty between our pantheons. You may bring whoever you feel is needed as advisors or honor guard. The God gestures behind him and a portal opens in the world, leading to the Sparkforge. As the god turns to the portal he sends a message to all members of the Mechanicus. Hear me, my children, my kin. I request your presence that we may ratify our alliance with the Light. My attendants will come to show the way to those who not yet know it. And sure enough, as the gods hear the message portals open next to them with a single Auton stepping out. Each of the Autons reverently kneel for the gods With all due reverence: My lord Nester requests your presence. Will you join me? If the gods follow they are led through a portal into a stately room in the forge. At the end of the room stand 5 thrones, with the center one raised just slightly over the others. Each throne has a statue behind it of the god who owns the chair. The center one seats Nester, the one on his right hand his first born and the one on his left his most trusted advisor, Kereth.

The room has a single, long stone table at its center with multiple chairs surrounding it, any of the gods and attendants brought by the Light are seated on the opposite side of the table to those of the Mechanicus. Autons mill around, serving the gods refreshments and food. Some of them stand at attention lining the wall, some holding banners with the sigils of the Mechanicus.

In the Workshop

The Hand of God

The energy in the forge was palpable as two gods of creation worked together. The very essence that filled the workshop caused sparks to fly and only the bravest autons dared get near the two deities else the very fabric of reality that made them might be warped and changed by the divine powers flowing through the shop. This was an energy and fervor that hadn't been seen in the Spark Forge since Mobius had left. The forces of creativity, hope, invention, and potential flowed through the workshop. Every now and then the forces would converge and new things would for an instant spring into being and then blink out of existence and still the two gods toiled onwards sculpting, building, perfecting. Finally the deed was done and they had finished their task. Then Nester turned to his son and bade him to render their creation unto his hero so that she may be whole once more before leaving for some other great work. Taking the arm and cradling it gently the Artificial God took it to his champion leaving the chamber in which they had worked. Leaving the forgotten pile of scraps and his favored tools, leaving the ruined arm that had once belonged to one. But neither god had taken into account what such work would mean to these pieces, they had been warped and changed, and in the absence of the gods they started to shift. Slowly swirling around itself it took form, a being made of scrap and the tool left behind, a being was born. No not a being, but a god, for the intense divine essence had given it life divine. The motes of potential that flowed through the room shaped who it would be while the essence of technology throughout made it what it was.

The Hero ONe and the God Hand

Mobius went to ONe, gently cradling her new arm as he approached her. Silently and efficiently he attached the arm. To his surprise he found that there was no need to weld it into place for it readily took hold of her arm, sealing itself into place and growing around the ruined jagged remains. Slowly she stirred, waking from her slumber. Looking down at the new piece that was attached, it was heavier than her last yet felt more a part of her than the original. Slowly she moved the new hand, flexing and unflexing the new limb, she understood what it was, what it could do without being told. The power called out to her and filled her mind with the possibilities. Gentle Statement: You may rest if you wish, you have worked hard and fought well. You have made us proud, and I would not push you harder than you already have.

ONe looked at her father, for that truly is what he was, and shook her head. Firm Response: I need not rest for I do not tire. The world is large and quickly changes. Therefore I must continue the journey I have been sent on. To not do so would be a waste and a great disrespect to you and to Kleine...time stands still for no one, mortal nor god. And you know that father. Apologetically: I'm sorry my lord but I cannot follow that request. Then in silence she awaited her lords response, he could force her if he wished.

Turning away from her to leave Mobius remembered what his father said to him long ago when he had come to him, determined to leave his side. Stoic Answer: If that is your wish my child then you are free to leave. Know that you are always welcome by my side and the gates to Kleine will always remain open you. The God left his daughter to herself, she had made her decision and he couldn't have been more proud of it.

After her father had left, ONe collected herself. Pulling herself up and off the table she had been laid upon. She hadn't needed her father to tell her how to leave the Forge for she had been there when he had done so long ago. Shortly she found the the door that was the exit to this realm and walked through it. It would take her to wherever she wanted. Soon she was walking down the paths of the mortal plane once again. Not far away was the hill that had once seen the first battle of the gods. Her's was a lonely journey but perhaps one day she would be joined by other like her, not Autons per say but Heroes and adventurers.

The Birth of a New God

Returning to where he had left his tools, The God in the Machine, felt something off. Something had changed in the short time he was gone and it stood before him, confused and lost. It was a strange creature, no, that was wrong; it was no creature for that would discount the divinity of it. No, what stood before him was a God, one that had seemingly come into being from nothing. But he could feel something from it, something that resonated with himself...for this creature was very clearly his child, he recognized it immediately. Strangely once again, Mobius found himself thinking back to his beginning, was this what his father had felt upon seeing him?

Cordial Greetings: Hello my child, I do not know whence you came into being or from what. But clearly you are of my creation, this I have no doubt, for the possibilities that flow within you are endless. You are a God born of technology and potential, as a child of mine your limits are only what you set before you. Mobius extends his hand to the divine being that stands before him. Welcoming Offer: I would offer you shelter with the Mechanicus, as my father did so for me. Together we can make something greater than any one of us could alone. As he holds his hand out a welcoming spark begins to glow with in it.

Your daughter is most valiant and diligent Mobius. I am sure you are very proud of her. the god says gesturing to One. Go with my blessing as well as your fathers, ONe. I foresee much hardship in your future, but I know that you will overcome it. Use the hand we have gifted you well. No mortal weapon can break it and even most gods will find it nigh impossible to breach. That is not its greatest power however, as the hand holds the essence of your father as well as me. Over the years you will discover its blessings, when you most need them.

Upon hearing the piercing screech through his workshop the god of inventors turns to look upon his grandson. A new child of yours, my son? I sense great potential in this one, but I believe he has to find it in himself first.

The Flow of Sparks
A young being sat in the corner of a practice yard in one of the many tribal villages in the land of the Vrykin. He was feeling quite miserable about himself and felt like he just wanted to sink away in the ground. Just a few seconds earlier another youngling had mercilessly crushed him in practice combat. His instructor was now standing over him and within a moment he knew the tirades would begin. He was worthless, pathetic, and would sooner become food for the wild creatures than a warrior of the Vrykin. But then the Vrykin saw a hand and instead of his instructors angry face the face of a kind-looking elder Vrykin. Stand up, son. You've practiced enough for today. The elder spoke to him with a gentleness unknown to the Vrykin.

He was now walking along with the elder, wondering what would become of him. When they entered the forest though, his heart sunk. This was it then, the young one thought dejectedly, they've decided I'm not worth it, and I'm going to be left in the dark of the jungles to make my own way, and likely die. Well, there was no use fighting it, if he attacked the elder he would receive much more dishonor and his tribe would kill him nonetheless.

The old man stopped in a small clearing next to a river and waterfall.The old man looks at him. Sit down, child. he speaks while sitting down on the verdant grass, opposite to the youngling. Do you know why I've brought you here? The man inquires as the youngling took a seat. Because I am weak and stunted, sir. And because my instructor told me if I wouldn't get better I would be left out as food for the wolves... His voice trails off. No, the old man states decidedly, you are not here to die. I'll ask again. Why did I take you here?

I don't know. The youngster replies. I don't see why I would be worth anyone's attention. I am weak and I can't fight. Why? A single question, answered only by a dumbfounded silence. What should he respond? Why what? Why are you weak? The elder questions him after a few minutes. What an odd question. I am weak because I'm small. I am weak because I lack muscle. I am weak because I am pathetic and don't feel the thirst for blood. He echoed the words that his instructors yelled at him every day.

The elder took two rocks from his robe and hit them together, creating sparks. Can you catch the spark? The spark is small, but it is fast. Nothing can catch the spark because it weaves around faster than anyone can respond. Nothing can touch the spark because it is small. It forms a small target for those who would try to hit it. The Vrykin looked at the elder was this man crazy? None of his instructors had ever compared him to sparks. Anyway, he couldn't very well turn himself into a spark, now could he?

Suddenly his train of thought was interrupted by the old man. Stand up, go over to the cliff and pick up some dried straw child. The youngster obeyed, walking over to the cliff and picking up a bundle of dried straw, laying it at his masters feet. The master struck the stones together far above the straw. Sparks fell down, dying before they could hit the straw. The sparks are weak because they cannot light a flame, are they not? The young Vrykin nodded. The sparks were obviously weak. Wrong. The elder responded as he slammed the rocks together right above the straw, sparks falling over the straw and igniting it with ease. The spark was weak, because it was not properly applied. When the spark hit the straw it ignited a great flame. There is no such thing as weakness, only improperly applied force. Do you understand? The boy nodded again, realising the truth in the old man's words.

Does this spark feel thirst for blood? The younger shook his head. True. The spark thirsts not for blood. The spark has no emotions. The spark has no goals, but where it strikes the fire blooms. Is the spark weak? No. No, the old man agrees, the spark is strong because it is swift. The spark is strong because it is small. The spark is strong when applied correctly. The spark is strong, not because it lacks bloodlust, but because it has purpose. Do you understand?

Yes, but I do not understand. How does this help me? I am no spark. I am not quick. I can't light fires. The elder looked at the younger. No, you cannot, he responded pensively, but I can teach you speed. I can teach you how to evade attack. And I can teach you how to strike where at the proper points, how to apply your strength so that it, like the sparks is applied in the best way possible.

So the god and the young one sparred and over the months the young man became a better fighter. Slowly the ire of his instructors would turn to praise as he turned out to be able to defeat much larger foes, by waiting and seeing. The young boy used his size and newfound speed to dodge. Waiting for his opponent to leave a single opening and then struck, deftly disabling his opponent with multiple jabs to pressure points on his body. He had become a true spark, darting around, intangible to his foe.

Then one day came that he arrived to the training sessions and his master stood there, looking sad. Master, what is wrong? The young child asked, looking at his divine trainer. You have learned much, my pupil, and I believe that you should no longer call me master. You have learned my teachings and now you, yourself are a Master in the Flow of Sparks. You are not perfect however, no one is. I charge you to travel the land and to teach others the way of the flow. Defend the weak and teach those who would learn. You have earned the right to know my name, as you bear my title. You stand before Nester, the god of Inspiration.

And as he spoke the god changed, an aura of multicolored sparks enveloping his body. It was time, he understood now. As images flashed before his mind. The day he helped a man create tools. The day he inspired the gods of the Mechanicus to band together and boost their power. The day his inspiration formed the Godhand. The hand that would one day spread his inspiration to the races of mortals. And now, now he had inspired a child to become so much more, the first practitioner of his style. The realizations filled him with power and understanding. Above all his other accomplishments he was the god of Inspiration.

As the sparks filled the air around him a single tear fell from his eyes. My dear boy. I am sad because I will never walk this plane again. I am sad because I fear that I shall not see you in person ever again. My divine ichor empowers me and banishes me from this world at the same time.

But...

I don't want to go...

And with that the sparks exploded out from his arms. A pure light blasting out of his mouth and eyes forming a single line towards the sky. All across the world people turned around, looking at the blast of power. Most ignored it. Others were driven mad. Some were inspired. And one boy, the boy who had just lost his master? He ran. His goal was clear in his mind, he would do his master proud, prove himself a true master of the Flow of Sparks.

As the light died down and the sparks fell, there was nothing left. The god had disappeared of the faced of the earth. And so he sat, opening his eyes again on one oft the five thrones. All others were empty, their owners had not yet ascended.

And so he sat.

And he felt.

Alone.


AP Expenditure
Divine Concept - The Flow of the Sparks (1): The flow of the sparks is all about waiting and seeing. Dodging out of the way of attacks until the enemy opens himself up for a final decisive strike. The first - and last - strike a Spark delivers is a series of pressure jabs, known as Alighting the Flame. These jabs are meant to hit pressure points in their enemies, disabling the connected muscles.
Gain Domain: Inspiration (Ideas) (2,P): After reflecting on his bringing of Inspiration to the mortals Nester realized he was more than just a god of invention, he was the harbinger of inspiration. (From Tools, Mechanicus, The Godhand, and The Flow of Sparks)

0+4=4-1-2=1AP remaining.
P - The P stands for the weekly PAP discount, which currently is 1.

Nester is now a Lesser God.:smallamused:

[Toxic Mind]

Villi had never been the greatest of guides. Even among those other Wayfinders he met, he always felt like he lacked somewhat. The others seemed so sure of themselves, they never got lost, or made a wrong turn. Villi was not like that. He knew how to guide others, of a surety. It was as much a part of him as his very flesh. But he got lost, he led caravans and travelers through difficult paths when an easier one lay just beyond his sight. He had even led a family through the territory of an ooze dragon. They had escaped, barely. But Villi knew that one day soon, he would get into trouble that he couldn't run from. It was in his nature.

On this afternoon of his 357th year, Villi was leading a group of tradesmen from one of the human towns. They had said they had great news, news that would help all humans to make better tools, better works of art, to live up to all that their gods had told them they could do. And they asked Villi to guide them to the city. Just as they set out from the small village though, Villi saw another Wayfinder. An elder, to be sure. The man had to be at least 800, if not older. He nodded to Villi. "Travelling to the human city, are you? There have been reports of dangerous men, desperate men, who seek only death and destruction, along that road. Surely four eyes and hands would be better than two?" The elder man said cordially. He carried little beyond the travelling kit that all Wayfinders had, the jar of ooze, and a quarterstaff, etched with the markings of many travels and adventures. "Uh... sure. We'd be happy to have you." Villi said, dumbfounded. He had never before met another Wayfinder willing to travel together, unless they were bonded and with child. And so, with the rare treat of two Wayfinders, the group set out along the road.

It was two days travelling, but the humans were slow, unused to the rigors of the road, and so it took three. And on the second day, disaster struck. They walked along the road, the two Wayfinders at the front, and they traveller through a forest, when they heard laughter. It sounded human, and yet to Villi's ears, there was something decidedly bestial about that laugh. And they came. 5 men with crude weapons, laughing madly, all semblance of humanity or kinship gone. Dried blood caked many of the edges on the weapons, and the men were filthy, covered in cuts and sores, wounds that even now oozed a sickly ichor. Villi backed up to protect the humans, but the elder moved forward. He raised his staff. Villi shouted at him. "Get away! They'll kill you!" The elder truned to him, a peaceful smile on his face. "Watch, my son. They will not. There will be no death here today." And the men came, howling their fury at this Wayfinder who dared to oppose them. And impossibly, he turned them aside. His staff whirled, darting in between the weapons, twisting instruments of death out of the hands that wielded them, Striking hands and feet and legs with stinging blows that stunned without injury. The men ran at the elder, and found a staff coiled around their legs, tripping them into the dirt. And as fast as it had begun, it was over. The men lay on the ground, bruised and groaning, but all alive, and all defeated.

"How.... how did you... Villi stumbled over his words, awe written on his face. "The path is a long one, my son, but when you understand how it twists and turns, and you do not fight it, but rather move with it, around it, and through it, it opens itself to you. When you see the path laid before you, and the paths of all those whom you may encounter, then you cannot be stopped." Kereth hands Villi the staff, and puts two fingers to Villi's forehead. "Go, and share this with all of my children. The Twisting Path is one that we all walk, but we never walk alone. You, and all your brothers and sisters, walk in the light of my guidance. Never forget that, Villi of the Twsiting Path." Suddenly, Villi understood everything. The flash of knowledge hit him like a thunderbolt. His way was not wrong, it was simply another road on the Path, a winding road, but no less of one than any other. Villi turned to thank the elder, but the man was gone. And Villi cried, for he knew that he had walked with The Guide, that he had been chosen for a divine purpose. And Villi resolved he would not fail.

++++++++++++++++++

The Mortal World

It was time. Kereth knew this day would come, but he had wished and hoped that somehow, it would be delayed. Kereth was there. The Wayfinder was old. The eldest of his species, in fact. Keth had fathered seven children, each who went on to bear more. But his time had come to an end. As he lay there, in a small hut on the side of a road, the last work that he had done, a small house that any weary traveller could use, a man entered. He was old, though his face did not seem so old as Keth's own when he had last looked at his reflection. And Keth knew instantly that this was no mortal man. He saw the staff, and the lantern, and knew who had come to visit him. "Are you hear to take me home, Lord Kereth?" Keth asked, smiling wryly. Kereth smiled, and sat by the man's bedside. "I never could fool you, Keth Wanderer" Kereth said, using the family name that all Wayfinder's shared. "You always saw right through the tricks, the skins I wore, and yet you always played along. Your father appreciates that." Kereth lays a hand on the old man in front of him. "Come with me Keth. Your journey is at an end here. Your Long Walk is done." Keth's face saddens. "I am old, but even so, there is so much to do. The other races, they are so rash, so young. They need my help! How can they-"Keth falls silent as Kereth raises his hand. "There will be others. You have made your people strong, and they will continue to guide the others. But you, you are meant for more than guiding mortals. For us, the journey does not end, unless you wish it. Come." And Keth nods. His eyes close, and they do not open again.

Kereth pulls the Wayfinder's soul into the lantern as Keth's mortal body dissolves into the ash it was once created from. He feels the Wayfinder's soul in the Fields. But suddenly, he feels himself pulled after. And Kereth does not fight it. He knew his path would not always walk alongside the mortal races, but a part of him is saddened that it came so soon. And so The Guide fades into the Fields, following his first son.

++++++++

That is where the Auton finds him, as he walks the fields with Keth. With all due reverence: My lord Nester requests your presence. Will you join me? Kereth follows, walking through the portal and taking his seat in the chair next to Nester. "You too have been cut from the mortal plane, brother?" Kereth asks, and for the first time since his creation, Nester hears sadness in the other god's voice. "It seems to have come too soon."


1: Divine Concept: Combat: Twisting Path - Wayfinders.
(2,P): Acquire Domain: Death (Afterlife) Using (Kereth's Lantern) and (Soul Fields)

Remaining: 1 AP

Kereth is now a Lesser God.

OOC: Any scenes that Kereth was involved in before he ascended can still happen, just a bit out of the timeline. EG: Yooo's conversation.

[Dorian Gray]

Faines rocks back and forth, in tune to the beat of the lava. His scarves continue to send out their music, little sparks flying off the flames at their tips. It takes him a moment to refocus on the general state of reality. When he does so, the scarves turn to face the other god.

"You stick him up in the sky, in the cold. Through, if you didn't do that, I wouldn't have come into being." He doesn't seem to care to much about this threat, maybe because of the earth fire so close to him, or maybe it would mean being back with Father. "There's songs in your voice. Could I hear one?" Or it could be the continuing forwarding of his desires.

The Aurora flows out, covering the rocks and lava and turning the surrounding area into a dark forest. A small patch of flame remains, but it is in the form of a campfire, and smoke rises into a clear sky, bright with stars. A sliver of moonlight shines down onto Illium as he stands.

"Once upon a time, there lived a woodsman. He lived far miles away from any town. One day, the man was wakened by a cry. Outside, he found a crane with damaged wings. He took the crane and nursed it back to health. After three days the crane could fly away."

Smoke from the fire twists and twirls, enveloping the two gods as Illium's voice rises and falls.

"Three more days on, the woodsman heard a cry. Outside his door was standing a woman. Her skin was smooth and white, her eyes black gems. She asked for shelter from the bitter cold. The man gave her food from his meager stores. The woman stayed and the two fell in love."

Cold air rushes into the fire, sending the flames flickering, and the ten thousand twisting strands of fire that make up Faines's scarves slow and come to rest, lying as simple silk.

"But food was scarce and the two might have starved. So the woman told her husband to hunt. When he returned, she had a gorgeous cloth. He asked how she made it, but she shook her head. She said he must never look at her weaving. The man sold the cloth and bought much good food. But the man was greedy and selfish. He coerced his wife into weaving more cloth. And so the wife shut herself in a room. For three long days, she wove, and made fine cloth."

The scent of thick wood fills the air, and the sky fills with clouds. A light rain begins, hissing on the fire.

"But the man was an inquisitive fool. In the middle of the dark night he woke. He crept towards the room where his wife wove. Throwing open the door he saw a crane. The bird was hunched over a weaving loom. It's feathers were bound in the glistening thread. When the bird saw the man it took to flight. The bird flew up into the black night sky. And the man never saw his wife again."

Rain begins to pour down in sheets, now, and the campfire hisses as it is extinguished. Illium's eyes shine like the rainbow, and seem to bore into Faines's skull. "You have a story, now. Do you think you can bring yourself to understand what it means?"

[Arcran]

Artoran

While Artoran may be unable to step on the mortal plane, he can still watch. Watch as men tear one another to bits for just another glance at the Red Gem. Watch as men try to make crude copies of his Child's weapons only to have them shatter in a single use. And, best of all, watching The Child bull through opponents, ignoring all wounds and cutting men down like they were made of nothing. For every drop of blood spilled Artoran felt his strength grow. Every time a man shouted at another in anger, his strength grew. Battle and conflict were what he thrived on and where he would have to stay. As long as mortals killed other mortals Artoran would thrive and become stronger.

Even without a foot on the mortal plane he was still wreaking havoc. The human city was drowning in its own blood just from a quick visit from The Child. The whole city had changed, with man killing one another simply to survive now, not simply for revenge. No longer was it a place of industry and creation. No, now the streets always ran red, no matter the time of day.

The city would hold without the Red Gem for some time. With a whisper Artoran sent his next command to The Child, reclining against The Barrier as he watches the world turn below, smiling as he watches a child stab a father over a loaf of bread, his blood spilling out over the stones below. What were stone walls in the face of the chaos of battle?

2 + 4 = 6

Gain Domain (Combat (Slaughter)) - Drinker (4), Murder (1), Warlord's Wrath (1), Weapons (1)
Gain Domain (Chaos (Battle)) - The Red Gem (4), The Child (3/4)

Artoran is a Lesser God as well.


The Child

The Child was running, sprinting as hard as he could. He could have easily turned and cut down the undisciplined, unarmed, and crazed mob following him but that was not his intent. He'd had his fun in Galvastia; something to slay every day, watching giant orgies of battle between crazed individuals. He'd been there for what felt like forever and, in truth, it had been; The Child was nearly a man now. He was faster, stronger and a bit more clever than he had been before. His skin was now almost entirely red save for a few patches of white skin, the scars from countless wounds healed over with stonelike tissue. He had weapons as well, real ones. A thick stone tied to a thicker stick, stone daggers expertly crafted, even a stick with a jagged piece of metal at the end. They weren't anything to look at but they worked, each and every one.

The Child narrowly dodges a rock thrown by part of the angry mob behind him. It had been what, a week of running like this? The horde was almost half the initial size but The Child was nearing his goal. The streams of ooze, the small little buildings pumping the ooze through them and, of course, the little goblins milling about as they worked. The Child pulls back his arm, the rage building inside of him and flings the Red Gem farther than should be humanly possible and watches as it bounces, some poor unfortunate goblin scooping it off the ground with an evil glint in his eye.

The horde ran around The Child, intent on the goblin with the gem. Some had crude sticks that almost resembled the weapons The Child had slowly crafted but would likely shatter upon a single use. The humans simply did not understand how the tools worked yet. The goblins would likely kill the humans due to numbers alone. After all, most of these fools were nearly starving. Still, the humans would wreak havoc, destroy tools and generally annoy the goblins. After such an occurrence the goblins would be unlikely to trust humans, maybe even attack them. Who knows? He was just the instrument; the full course relied on something else.

The Child turned to leave, this time walking at a leisurely pace. He'd wait for a bit to secure the Red Gem after the humans were dead. He finds a nearby tree, leaning against it with a grin as he watches the carnage below.

And The Child laughed.

Galvastia is still under the Curse although instead of it being caused by The Red Gem it is due to the long period of conflict causing the city to become a den of war and slaughter.

0 AP - Using the Red Gem to lead a considerable group of humans to attack the goblins. Essentially, the Curse is to make the goblins hate and mistrust mankind. Whether or not it devolves to a full blown war is up to Zenirand.

[MichaelGoldclaw]

"Well then, I'll..." Aleru stopped. Hearing prayers from the King. The city had started to kill each other. She splits a shard of herself and then leaves to tend with the situation. "My shard will deal with a matter back in the Human lands. I'll follow you." She is lead by the Automatons to the room. "Lets get started then."

Human Lands

Aleru was infuriated by the slaughter. She then noticed the item responsible and then she rushed forward and placed her hand near it. shen then purifies the energies gathered from it and spreads it out to the people who are good. "To the god of dark hero responsible for this dark device of slaughter, come here or you judgement will have less mercy than it would normally be!" she bellowed. Her voice heard throughout the continent. She then uses her holy energies to snatch the souls that died and brought them back to their bodies, which healed instantly. "There shall be no punishment for those who were under the influence of this gem."

2+4=6-2=4
Bless- Those who have a good heart (like nearly all humans) cannot be effected by the powers of the ge,
Bless #2- everyone dead by this is resurrected.

[Toxic Mind]

Kereth watches as Aleru is brought into the room. He feels, rather than sees, the souls disappear from the Lantern's call. Kereth is puzzled. Such a thing has never happened before. Souls are pulled into the Lantern, wherever they fall, but they do not deviate course without help. Someone is tampering with his Purpose. Kereth speaks to Nester from his chair, loud enough for Aleru to hear. "A large amount of human souls who were bound for the Lantern and the Soul Fields beyond have been diverted. I will go investigate this dist-" Kereth stops, and looks at Aleru, puzzlement on his face. He reaches out to the Auton, searching its mind. "A shard of yourself to deal with what matter back in the human lands, Aleru?" Kereth says, and there is anger in his voice. "Explain yourself."

[Xunthrae]

Mersahj watched her people, the goings on of the other gods didn't concern her. King Veri'Sahj has aged and has passed on the Coral Crown onto his successor, his son, Moro. Moro was discontent with how their people were living, always traveling always on the move. So he had an idea. Instead of moving with the leviathan they could form large cities across the oceans, to shelter themselves and allow themselves to become more than hunter-gatherers. He's seen what's on the surface and wants something similar for his people. And when Veri'sahj passed the crown on to him, that was what he did. Now that he is Moro'Sahj, he gave his people the idea and let them decide.

"People of the vast seas, I am tired of our lives of constant motion and travel, never settling to make a home out of one place. I have received a vision from our mother creator, She wishes for us to build cities of coral and stone, cultivate plants and fish for our own uses, She wants more from us than our nomadic lives swimming alongside her Leviathan! She wants us to advance and rule this world, land and sea! With her blessing we can accomplish whatever we desire!" Moro'Sahj's impassioned speech rallied the people of all the seas. Mersahj watched him speak to his people and claiming a vision from her. She never gave one, but she was impressed with his audacity, and so she gave him what he claimed to have received. The vision was of his people growing close to sharks and other animals of the seas, using them for different tasks. The Hammerhead Shark as a seeker, the great Rays of the sea as mounts, Dolphins and whales to pull heavy loads for them. They came to him in a dream, but he knew they were from his goddess.

With the guidance of Mersahj, the Merfolk established cities across the ocean. Some settled in the deep black oceans and relied upon their own bio-luminescence to light the way, others settle in warm coastal regions, few settled in the frozen waters of the far north and south, but most settled several hundred miles off the coast of The First Land. There became seven city-states. Each independent of the others and rely upon themselves, but trade and communicate by the songs of whales and other beasts of the deep.

2 AP +4 AP = 6 AP

-2 Create Society.
-1 Advanced aquatic animal taming (I'm not sure if this should be a -1 or -2, or even a minus at all, but i'll compromise with a -1.)

The storm isn't any special one, its just a rainstorm she's using to make a point and be dramatic.



While Mersahj guided her people to prosperity, away from the mindless conflicts of the surface she watched the other gods. Occasionally she would send a minor storm at the land masses when they would be least convenient for the mortals on the surface, nothing too disastrous, but enough to engender a healthy fear of the sea and its unknown depths. She heard the goddess Aleru bellow and Mersahj had had enough of that goddess's complaining and her voice retaliated, coming from storm clouds rolling in towards the city. "Who are you to judge your equals? Judge mortals as you like, but once you are given the power to judge one of us, you can then begin to attempt to judge us all, and I will not give you that authority!" Mersahj's tempestuous nature rears its head, no one can judge her. She is the power of sea and storm incarnate and she will not be controlled.

[MichaelGoldclaw]

Shard

Aleru turns her head to the voice. "You think I care about what a god wants? You think I care about what all of the gods want? I care about what is pure. I care about what is just, what is honorable, what if kind, what is merciful. I care about what is right. And you have a problem with me, then you have a problem with what is right. If what is right is to cast judgement with a merciful intent, then I will do so."

Original

"I have no idea what my shard has done, but she has most likely stopped a mass slaughter in the Human lands and have brought back the ones who were innocent in this."

[Arcran]

Artoran

At the edges of the universe, Artoran raged. Aleru had, once again, angered him. Not only had she made his Gem far less fun, but she'd reversed the damage. He'd have to come up with some new tool to damage her. One far more personal perhaps? However he did it, Aleru would pay and her race as well.

When he hears Mersahj's cry he can't help but grin. Perhaps he was not the only one to take issue with the foolish goddess.

"I stand with Mersahj! Let the mortals settle their own differences! For as long as mankind hides behind your dirty skirts they will constantly be cursed! They will never rest until they are strong enough to defend themselves. If you want to know who is guilty, it is I once again! Meet me in exile and handle this yourself unless you're too craven to meet me without a half-dozen others!" he roars, every other word punctuated by the sound of Drinker slamming against The Barrier.


The Child

The Child's laughter has become almost uncontrollable. The humans had been slaughtered by the goblins, as expected. But then they got back up, only to be killed once more! It was beautiful! An everlasting conflict! The humans were too weak, too frail and too disorganized to ever gain an advantage against the goblins yet the goblins would kill them only for them to hop up seconds later.

And The Child laughed until tears of joy came spilling forth.

[Toxic Mind]

The Sparkforge - Meeting Room

Kereth stands. "Innocent or not, their time on the mortal plane was at an end. Their souls were freed to the afterlife, then brought back into their bodies. Do you know what effect that may have on them? To die, and then to be forced back into a body, healed or not, that for a time was absent a soul? Because I do not, but the consequences may be more dire than you imagine." Kereth sighs, wearied, and sits again. "What is done is done and cannot be undone. I would advise your caution in the future sister. What may come of this, we shall have to see." Kereth motions to Nester. He has said his piece, for now, and the god of death falls silent once again, waiting for the others to arrive.

[ThePhantom]

Firey Music and Changing Stories

Faines looks down for a moment under Illium's stare, then he looks back up, eyes flaring.

"But you put out my fires. You messed with my scarves. You don't have the right to mess with what's mine."

Faines's scarves start to move again, reacting to their owner's will.

"Give me my things back!"

[Dorian Gray]

The Storyteller and the Musician
The ground begins to shimmer, glowing with some strange inner light. The trees grow denser, and the beams of starlight become almost tangible, hissing softly as they extinguish themselves upon the dew. The Aurora shimmers into existence overhead, and Illium's cloak stretches up to reach it, until it appears that Illium is wearing the entire night sky. Faint notes are heard on the whistling wind, and a boulder nearby explodes, water seeping out of the cracks. A thin cloud passes over the moon, and for a second, the entire world appears to be forged out of molten silver. Illium's eyes burn with ten thousand colors, and his voice thunders like that of a judge as he sweeps his arm backwards into the distance.

"Ignorant child, you have much to learn. In this world, nothing comes free. I have given you a story, and you have given me only shouting. I will take of you and yours just as you took from them and theirs."

[Darklady2831]

While Mersahj guided her people to prosperity, away from the mindless conflicts of the surface she watched the other gods. Occasionally she would send a minor storm at the land masses when they would be least convenient for the mortals on the surface, nothing too disastrous, but enough to engender a healthy fear of the sea and its unknown depths. She heard the goddess Aleru bellow and Mersahj had had enough of that goddess's complaining and her voice retaliated, coming from storm clouds rolling in towards the city. "Who are you to judge your equals? Judge mortals as you like, but once you are given the power to judge one of us, you can then begin to attempt to judge us all, and I will not give you that authority!" Mersahj's tempestuous nature rears its head, no one can judge her. She is the power of sea and storm incarnate and she will not be controlled.



Artoran

At the edges of the universe, Artoran raged. Aleru had, once again, angered him. Not only had she made his Gem far less fun, but she'd reversed the damage. He'd have to come up with some new tool to damage her. One far more personal perhaps? However he did it, Aleru would pay and her race as well.

When he hears Mersahj's cry he can't help but grin. Perhaps he was not the only one to take issue with the foolish goddess.

"I stand with Mersahj! Let the mortals settle their own differences! For as long as mankind hides behind your dirty skirts they will constantly be cursed! They will never rest until they are strong enough to defend themselves. If you want to know who is guilty, it is I once again! Meet me in exile and handle this yourself unless you're too craven to meet me without a half-dozen others!" he roars, every other word punctuated by the sound of Drinker slamming against The Barrier.

A swarm of flying insects buzzed through the air towards Aleru and Mersahj. Quiet at first, but deafening as they drew closer, the insects blackened the sky as they descended. They began to cover anything dead, dying, or edible. The dying screamed as large flies began to bite their exposed innards, and people yelled as their crops and food were being devoured by locusts. In the midst of it all, a puddle of ooze sprung from the ground, forming into the vague shape of a humanoid. Headless, a slimy maw opened in its chest, and a woman's voice echoed from it. "Feast little ones, death is abundant here..." The insects continued to infest the area, attacking the living in swarms, biting and stinging until their prey fell to injury, and then swarming over the still living victim. Naer'Va shuddered in delight, then turned to see Aleru and Mersahj. "Strange... who are you?" she asked curiously.

9 AP + 4 AP (Rollover) - 1 AP = 12 AP
1 AP - Curse: A swarm of various omnivorous insects is plaguing Galvastia. They are devouring crops, attacking the living, and eating the dead. Left unchecked they can strip a body to the bone in a matter of minutes.



The Child

The Child's laughter has become almost uncontrollable. The humans had been slaughtered by the goblins, as expected. But then they got back up, only to be killed once more! It was beautiful! An everlasting conflict! The humans were too weak, too frail and too disorganized to ever gain an advantage against the goblins yet the goblins would kill them only for them to hop up seconds later.

And The Child laughed until tears of joy came spilling forth.

A stray Skizzik, by the name of Stint, peered around the corner of a nearby tunnel, seeing the child, and the chaos he had caused. Stint yelped in terror, throwing a rock at the Child before turning and running down the tunnel, towards Warlord Tharlock's band.

[ThePhantom]

The Storyteller and the Musician

"Then allow me to give you something, so you will have another story to tell."

Faines scarves twist in the wind, and then start ringing with the notes carried in it. They continue to move faster and the notes grow louder and louder as the scarves once again burst into flames. Faines points at Illium, angry that this god dares to find what defines Faines, the fires that flow through his veins, as something bad. Its not really his fault that where he landed have a village, gods can chose to follow the laws of nature, such as the way an object falls.

"I will give you a song of flames, and perhaps you will see the beauty that dwells in such."

The scarves' flames shift from red to orange, then to an eye-searing blue as the music they create rises to a deafening roar. They twist around Faines, a creating a flame so strong it might burn the very air itself.

[Arcran]

The Child

Had The Child not been laughing so hard he may have noticed the rock soaring towards his head. Had he not been quite so overjoyed by the carnage he might have been enraged enough to ignore the pain. Unfortunately, neither was true. A stroke of luck had the stone strike The Child's armor-like scar tissue, causing it to deflect aside without truly hurting The Child but the blow smarted.

With a snarl The Child leapt to his feet, racing after Stint. While the rat-man knew the terrain and had superior night senses, The Child had blind rage on his side. He tore after the rat. Just Stint began to believe he would escape a sharp pain tore through his knee, dropping the Skizzik to the ground.

A rough hand hoists Stint off the ground, slamming him into the wall of the cave. The Child's teeth shone white even the darkness, showing a perverse grin.

"You've gotten yourself into quite the little pickle, haven't you?" The Child says with a grin, drawing a stony dagger from a sash around his belt.

And The Child laughed.

[Croverus]

The patient Eyes

The Red Eclipse occurs several times as days pass, but many races seem to be defended from the light by the gods watching over them. The Red Beasts change each time if they are caught in the light of the Red Eclipse, and the Locathah seek shallower waters during those days. But Attraxxii decides to simply observe. Its siblings are changing the world in many ways, and he approves with each new thing. He only dislikes when the others try and keep things the same. The Great moons in the sky reflects on how it has effected the world so far and is happy with what it has altered so far, but seeks an even greater understand of making things new and different. Being "better" is not important. Attraxxii simply desires that things change.

Start: 1 AP
Rollover: +4 AP
Spending: -3 Gain Domain - Change
Result: 2 AP

Also, I have 4 domains now, do I automatically advance my God rank?

[Darklady2831]

The Child

Had The Child not been laughing so hard he may have noticed the rock soaring towards his head. Had he not been quite so overjoyed by the carnage he might have been enraged enough to ignore the pain. Unfortunately, neither was true. A stroke of luck had the stone strike The Child's armor-like scar tissue, causing it to deflect aside without truly hurting The Child but the blow smarted.

With a snarl The Child leapt to his feet, racing after Stint. While the rat-man knew the terrain and had superior night senses, The Child had blind rage on his side. He tore after the rat. Just Stint began to believe he would escape a sharp pain tore through his knee, dropping the Skizzik to the ground.

A rough hand hoists Stint off the ground, slamming him into the wall of the cave. The Child's teeth shone white even the darkness, showing a perverse grin.

"You've gotten yourself into quite the little pickle, haven't you?" The Child says with a grin, drawing a stony dagger from a sash around his belt.

And The Child laughed.

Stint's eyes go wide, he gnashes his teeth wildly at The Child, but to no avail. His tail curls between his legs, and he starts screeching. "Nonononono! Please, put down! Put down! Not want to be eat-killed! My meat is stringy, no good, no good!" His high pitched cries echo through the tunnels. As he screams for mercy, three more Skizziks come bounding down the tunnel. They rush towards The Child, brandishing jagged bones. "Leave-drop him, stinky-pinky!" They shout.

[Umbranar]

Domi smiles to Rhanor. "They may not like your decision, but if you follow the law, and are just, then we will have no choice but to abide by your decision." Domi admires how Rhanor quickly gets to work creating the tools of his trade.

"Rhanor, there is someone I would like for you to meet. She is Lady Aleru, the Queen of Chivalry. She is my sister and greatest ally."


0AP
+1AP Panethon from Thursday
+4AP Rollover from Saturday
-------------
5AP Total


I would love to meet my aunt, father. She sounds like a fai- Rhanor suddenly stops as he feels something stirring.
A conflict was arising and there was talk of judgement. Father, there is some trouble brewing in another plane. On the Mortal Plane there is a call for judgement as well. I will send a shard of myself to the plane below to deal with that but I need your guidance to this other plane. I fear that the other gods are arguing and we can not suffer a battle between gods. A slightly smaller version of Rhanor appeared next to him and then launched itself like a black and white lightning bolt down the the mortal realm.

At Galvastia, The Shard of the Judge
Rhanors shard crashed into the streets, surprisingly leaving no damage to the surface. Hammer in hand it scanned the surroundings and found another being like him. Not a full fledged god but another shard. You look troubled and I heard your cry for justice and judgement. I am a shard of Rhanor, the Eternal Judge. What has occurred in this place and who is responsible?

[Inane Gestures]

Ascencion

The creation of the god in the spark forge had left him speechless. He hadn't known what to expect, was this how all gods were created? It was strange he was happy for his son but he worried for him. In much a different way than he did for his heroes. It was during this moment of confusion that he lost concentration, what he'd been holding back finally hit him. He grew that one final step, just one more push and he was something else. His raising of the two autons, Zero and ONe hadn't just been his desire to see beings of great power that would help him protect life. It had been his god hood calling out to him. Some thing more than what he thought he was. His father had made the autons and he would always be their creator. But he was their image, their god. He could feel it calling out to him. He wasn't just a god of Autons though he would be there for those artifical life forms that would come after them. He would watch over them and shephard them.

Suddenly in a burst of light he grew, not in size but in power. And all at once he knew that his trip from the mortal plane to this one was of one way. He would not be returning, never again to bask in the warm sun and sea spray of his beloved city. He feared for what would happen to it in such a harsh world. Would it be safe without him? He would have to trust in his heroes, ONe and Zero to lead it to greatness. They would be his Avatars on earth in his absence. They would represent his will and his divine love.

Mobius turned to his father, Despairing Statement: I fear I am hear to stay. I will help you with your work here and we shall make great things together. But allow me a little time to rest and mourn my loss my freedom to roam and travel the material plane. With that he went off to a more secluded part of the Spark Forge and looked through the fabric of the planes to watch his favored city for just a while longer.

The Lifeless statue

For Jaruc it had been a normal day. He'd been plying his wares in the market. Fresh caught fish from the sea, he made a killing. He should, after all his partner was one of the Merfolk who of course got half of the cut from what he sold, it was only fair. Suddenly he felt a rumbling from the statue in the center of Kleine's Bottle. Was Mobius moving once again? It had become widespread knowledge since it had moved not two decades previous, that the statue was in fact the god himself watching over his favored city. Since people had moved to the city in droves. Living in a city that a god made his home made one feel safe, ya knew he was looking out for ya.

But when he turned to look at the statue his face fell in horror. The metal was dulling as if it was turning to stone. The statue's mouth opened as if to let out a wail of sadness. But instead a blue light shot out and into the heavens. For miles around all could see the piller of light. And then after just a few minutes it was gone. Not just the light, but as he and all the people of Kleine knew, their god. He no longer was inside the statue. Just as panic was about to strike him a soothing voice filled his head, a familiar mechanical tone. Though he had never heard Mobius' voice before he knew that was who spoke to him. Warm Statement: I fear that I must leave this city. It is not of my choice, this plane simply no longer allows me to manifest myself within it. But fear not citizens, though I may be gone I will always watch over this city.

Then just as suddenly as the voice had come it was gone. It was quickly decided that this day of the year shall be a holiday for those who live in Kleine. One where all work but that which is necessary shall stop and the citizens shall spend the day in reverence to the god who created and still watches over the city he loved.

0 + 4 AP (Rollover) 0 + 1 PP (Pantheon Rollover)
4-3 Ap Gain Domain: Technology: Constructs
Mobius is now a lesser god
total: 1ap 1pp

[Arcran]

Stint's eyes go wide, he gnashes his teeth wildly at The Child, but to no avail. His tail curls between his legs, and he starts screeching. "Nonononono! Please, put down! Put down! Not want to be eat-killed! My meat is stringy, no good, no good!" His high pitched cries echo through the tunnels. As he screams for mercy, three more Skizziks come bounding down the tunnel. They rush towards The Child, brandishing jagged bones. "Leave-drop him, stinky-pinky!" They shout.


The Child

The Child smarts at the stinky-pink remark. Did blood truly smell so unappealing to these savages? The remark made his blood boil and The Child could feel the rage slowly building.

"That was a rather poor choice of words," The Child says with a sadistic grin, dropping the Skizzik on his injured leg, eliciting a loud shout.

Completely fearless to the potential of being stabbed, The Child strides toward the nearest Skizzik, watching as the bone weapon simply glances off his hardened skin. With a quick turn his hammer hits the Skizzik in the head, dropping it instantly. He thinks of killing the other two, then realizes something. This was a race already inclined towards battle with more advanced tools than mankind. If he were to teach them, train them, perhaps he could instil a hatred of mankind within them as well?

"Lowly rat-people," he says with a grin. "Your weapons are far more feeble than you know. Take me to your leader and I promise you powerful tools of stone and bone capable of eviscerating my - your foes," he says, still looking at the bone weapons as he tosses his simply stone hammer to one of the Skizzik. This would be entertaining.

And The Child laughed.

[FlyingCheseCake]

If a traveler were to approach the Crucible from the sea, it would at first appear as yet another fog bank. Great billowing clouds of steam obscure the view for miles and the sea seems a bit more restless than usual in this region. But if that traveler were to look up he would realize that this was no normal fog bank, as the clean white cloud is capped by a dark mass of dirty gray. The rumble of thunder can be heard from within, but there is no hint of lightning.

Upon entering into the fog the world quickly becomes dark, the great cloud of ash above blocking all but a few rays of sun. The rumbling of thunder grows louder, with a constant undertone now rising beneath it. Our traveler would eventually realize that this was the surf on a shore and know that his destination was near.

Deeper into the fog, and the dim whiteness about him begins to reflect the pale blue flashes of lightning, although he would still see nothing but mist. The sound of the surf is almost overpowering. And then suddenly, as if passing from one room to the next, he is beyond the cloud and before him lies a view so far unseen by mortal eyes.

The most immediate detail is the nearness of the shore; the dark land was only a few meters before him. Looking left and right he would see the land curving away, punctuated by points where great streams of lava boiled the sea and threw up that all-encompassing steam. The eye inevitably would follow those red molten lines, those slightly too regular lines, inward and upward along the sloping ground. Lightning constantly flashed, striking the ground with such regularity that the thunder is almost constant. A little scrutiny would make it appear that the lightning always struck in the same places; that couldn't be possible, could it? The heavy darkness between the strikes made it difficult to be sure.

The rivers of lava ended at various points along the single, central mountain's face. Near these points there seemed to be a series of pools in each stream where the liquid rock gathered momentarily before continuing on its journey to the sea. Overlaying the entirety of the island was a web of blue light, briefly pulsing brighter with every lightning strike. And if our traveler remained long enough, he would notice a similar blue light growing in intensity from within the caldera of the volcano, until it flashed, washing the entire island in its glow before disappearing altogether.

Across this landscape floated a number of pale blue sparks. What they were about would not be clear to our traveler, but that their movements were intentional and not random would be plainly clear. Occasionally one or another would enter the volcano itself, and if the traveler were to follow them he would find the greatest wonder of the island yet. Seemingly suspended above the lake of magma is a great contraption of spinning rings, immense arcs of energy laced the construction. All about the interior of the caldera were a great number of shelves made from the rock itself. Most were bare, but a few had items upon them of an inscrutable nature. And upon one resided a god.

Scarto, its great scrap and liquid metal form a roiling sphere, was calmly, carefully, forming a great sphere of shining metal before itself. The sphere floated inches above the shelf on which it was located, slowly rotating as Scarto made imperceptible alterations to its gleaming, silvery surface. About the sphere orbited a number of the blue orbs from outside, themselves sheathed in shells of orbiting metal plates. Tiny arcs of energy reached from the orbs to the immense sphere, etching its surface.

Again, If our traveler remained long enough, he may realize that the orbs briefly increased their activity to a frenzied level immediately after the great rings flashed with an intensity to rival the sun. And if he studied the sphere carefully enough, and was traveled enough and kept an open mind, he might even recognize that the detailed etching growing across its surface reflected the contours of the very world he was standing upon...

Starting AP: 2AP + 4AP Rollover = 6 AP
Gain Domain (3 AP): Fabricate (Electromagnetism) From the Skree (3AP) and the Incunabula (4AP)
Create Lesser Concept (1 AP): Cartography. As the Incunabula reaches maximum charge and pulses in the creation of a new Skree, a wave of invisible energy quickly and briefly passes across the world. Recognizing changes in this wave of energy as it passes over different terrain, Scarto has set a few Skree to mapping this information onto a large metal sphere.
2AP Remaining.

[FlyingCheseCake]

Scarto moved backward slightly to admire its latest creation: an immense silver sphere onto which was etched the contours of the material world. A number of Skree continually orbited the construction, making changes and alterations as the world changed. The detail was exacting, but important. Many future plans and projects relied on knowing where they were needed and where they were not.

The god's reverie was interrupted by a plane of light snapping open in front of it, where before there was open space. Out of the light stepped a most curious creature. Scarto could sense that the being was an order of power above its Skree, but it found the form distasteful in its stiffness. Change and adaption would not come easily to such as these.

The newcomer bent its lower set of appendages beneath itself and settled upon them and regarded the whirling, undulating sphere of metal before it. After a moment vibrations, sound, issued from it:

With all due reverence: My lord Nester requests your presence. Will you join me?

The name as such meant nothing to Scarto, but it recognized the idea, the concept and power, that the name represented. The Creator of the Creator. Intriguing.

With its current project done and no others requiring its immediate attention, Scarto moved past the kneeling Auton and through the doorway of light...

...into a grandly furnished hall. A number of great chairs rested on either side of a massive stone table. Further examples of the creature that brought the summons, Autons, existed throughout the room in the midst of numerous tasks. Many of the chairs, perhaps even thrones given some of their ostentation, remained empty, but a few were filled by beings of obvious power.

Five seats in particular held Scarto's attention. Behind each was a representation of beings; given the similarity of likeness between the carvings behind filled seats and those filling the seats, they obviously represented those to whom those seats were intended. Three of these steats were taken.

Scarto moved before the first, that of his creator. A brief study revealed that this being was increased in power since their last meeting, but little else had changed. Sliding sideways, Scarto moved before the Creator of the Creator, the one that summoned Scarto here. While not a mirror of Scarto's creator, there were many similarities in appearance, power, and intent. New, but not an unknown quantity. The only strangeness was that the being's throne was raised a bit higher than the others. Shoddy craftsmanship, that, to not properly level such a construction.

The third occupied seat...

"You are the Guider. YesYes! You cause the mortals to successfully travel between points. Such causes mortals to interact, to share and trade. Thus information spreads! Change! Progress!"

A small portion of the accretion about Scarto solidifies and detaches to float before Kereth. It is a disc in shape, sized to fit into an average mortal's hand. Closer inspection reveals it to be a disc within a ring, tight fitting but free moving. The disc is covered with several etched symbols and slowly rotating within the ring.

"For the ones that lead others. They travel well; they now travel betterbetterbetter!"

Leaving the item before Kereth Scarto moves to the final throne. Recognizing the image of itself behind the seat, Scarto moved forward and engulfed the seat within its accretion. Sitting was not something the deity's form allowed for, but the seat was as convenient a place to anchor itself as any. From this point Scarto would observe whatever proceedings were intended.

2 Starting AP
Create Lesser Concept (1AP): Compass. Scarto has given Kereth the knowledge to build a compass that will always indicate the direction towards the Incunabula, as the greatest point of magnetism on the material plane. With this knowledge the holder can always discern what direction they are facing.
1 AP Remaining

[Toxic Mind]

Kereth examines the strange creation that the metal god has given him. Interesting. He thinks to himself. This would allow Wayfinders to pinpoint their location when they were beyond the sight of the Beacons, or when the Beacons were hidden by the light of the sun. And when they travelled the oceans, they could guide their crafts by way of this device.

"My thanks for your gift, young one. It will serve those who guide well. They will know your part in its creation." Kereth nods his thanks to the other god, and makes a mental note to introduce this to the Wayfinders once this alliance summit was finished. As Scarto takes his seat, Kereth looks at Nester, a wry smile on his face at the antics of the new god. Kereth knew Nester's spark, even removed as it was. He raised an eyebrow at the other god, a question and a comment on Scarto in one. There was laughter in Kereth's eyes.

[Venetian Mask]

The Court of Sparks


The Sparkforge - Meeting Room

Kereth stands. "Innocent or not, their time on the mortal plane was at an end. Their souls were freed to the afterlife, then brought back into their bodies. Do you know what effect that may have on them? To die, and then to be forced back into a body, healed or not, that for a time was absent a soul? Because I do not, but the consequences may be more dire than you imagine." Kereth sighs, wearied, and sits again. "What is done is done and cannot be undone. I would advise your caution in the future sister. What may come of this, we shall have to see." Kereth motions to Nester. He has said his piece, for now, and the god of death falls silent once again, waiting for the others to arrive.


Peace, Kereth, the elder god smiles gently at the arguing god and goddess, your actions were rash High Lady and may have far reaching consequences, but they were admirable nonetheless. Your kindness for your creations is to be expected, would a human mother not do everything to save her children. Nesters face goes troubled; But my brother is right, your act has caused an imbalance, however small. If you continue to wrest souls from his domain you may damage the entirety of creation.

The god looks at to his left for Kereth's guidance: I would offer a compromise: a soul for a soul. If one person willingly takes a souls place in the Soulfields, will you allow that soul to return to the land of the living?



Ascencion
Mobius turned to his father, Despairing Statement: I fear I am hear to stay. I will help you with your work here and we shall make great things together. But allow me a little time to rest and mourn my loss my freedom to roam and travel the material plane. With that he went off to a more secluded part of the Spark Forge and looked through the fabric of the planes to watch his favored city for just a while longer.

As Mobius arrives at his father's court Nester sees the sadness in his eyes and knows his sons plight. My son, know that you are always welcome in my hall and in my forge. I too know the sadness of leaving the mortal world behind. The father's eyes become stern and serious. Take some time, but not too long. I would have you on my side for the negotiations with Lady Aleru.



Kereth examines the strange creation that the metal god has given him. Interesting. He thinks to himself. This would allow Wayfinders to pinpoint their location when they were beyond the sight of the Beacons, or when the Beacons were hidden by the light of the sun. And when they travelled the oceans, they could guide their crafts by way of this device.

"My thanks for your gift, young one. It will serve those who guide well. They will know your part in its creation." Kereth nods his thanks to the other god, and makes a mental note to introduce this to the Wayfinders once this alliance summit was finished. As Scarto takes his seat, Kereth looks at Nester, a wry smile on his face at the antics of the new god. Kereth knew Nester's spark, even removed as it was. He raised an eyebrow at the other god, a question and a comment on Scarto in one. There was laughter in Kereth's eyes.

As the curious god gives his creation to Kereth Nester smiles and nods encouragingly to the young god. Kereth, this is Scarto, son of my son. In him I see great potential, but he is still young and has much to learn. He smiles to Scarto: Be seated and welcome, child. I have been following your creations, the Skree are truly your children. I expect that we will see many great works from them.

[Toxic Mind]

The Court of Sparks



The god looks at to his left for Kereth's guidance: I would offer a compromise: a soul for a soul. If one person willingly takes a souls place in the Soulfields, will you allow that soul to return to the land of the living?


Kereth raises his hand, stopping the other god. You misunderstand me, though it is no fault of your own. Kereth says gravely. The number of souls is of no consequence to me, brother. It is her people I fear for. To have a soul taken from your body, then returned having seen the afterlife... Even I do not know what effect such an action may have, but I doubt it will be good. The action is done, however, and we must see what comes of it. I hope for the best. Kereth looks to Nester. I would never rob a mortal of their life to satisfy my need for restitution. The affront is forgiven.

Kereth turns once more to Aleru. I trust that in the future, you will come to me should you attempt such a task? I understand your pain, sister, but if you come to me before, I can purge the knowledge of the afterlife from the soul before it returns to the body. Kereth's look is pointed, but weary. I will watch these souls closely, in the hopes that they do not stray from the path.

[mystic1110]

I see a red door and want to paint it OOZE


Kereth extends a hand, grasping the shoulder of Illium before he can say something regrettable. He looks into the eyes of the other god and speaks nothing, but his eyes say it all. "Trust me".

Kereth turns back to the great dragon. "A gift was given to one of mine, and a gift now returned. Yet my gift is knowledge, understanding, and guidance." Kereth raises his staff, the lantern hanging on the end, shining as always. "You do not understand why my son is angry, that much your comment makes clear. I will help you understand. His anger is over the needless harm that your body can cause to the mortal races. That, great dragon, is the seed of all morality, harm or help."

Kereth's lantern begins to shine, and a blinding corona of light sears the air. Kereth smashes the light into Yooo's body, the divine power of the Afterlife cutting deep into the dragon's oozing flesh. The Light burns, it screams, with the pain of all the mortals who have yet died. Kereth slices with his hand, and the light is gone. "Harm. I have done you wrong by bringing you harm without reason, such as my son sees you doing to the mortals below us. Such an action is wrong."

Kereth pulls from his Wayfinders, borrowing for a moment their understanding of ooze, and with a thought and a motion, knits back together Yooo's torn body, healing the pain without so much as a ripple to mark it's passing. "Help. Such as you did for my Wayfinders, I have done for you. I have helped heal the damage I have done, and such things are good."

Kereth bows deeply in apology for the pain his demonstration caused. "To do good in this world, we must always strive to help all those we can, and minimize the harm that we cause to this world. You do this, without knowing. Some of your body allows mortals glimpses into the future, allows them better to see their path. And yet some also consumes them without a thought, robs them of their life. My Wayfinders avoid such fate, because of the help you have offered them. Yet they are still harmed when those they guide are lost to what they cannot prevent. Do you understand?"

When you discipline a child you have to be very careful for a couple of reasons. The first is to connect the wrong with the discipline. It is very easy for the child to be confused with results and repercussions. The second is to make sure that the wrong is something that the child can control. You can't punish a child for the sea being wet. You can, but the child who can't make the sea dry, see the punishment as simply arbitrary. The third is that the punishment needs to be tempered with kindness, to forestall resentment.

Kereth's punishment was all of these things, but then again not all children listen. Especially children that are larger than mountains and can in fact make an ocean dry. The Ooze Dragon, took a long time to feel the pain inflicted upon it. So long in fact that it did not make the connection between the pain and the images showed. The pain came much latter. In fact to the Ooze Dragon the lessons were imparted in reverse. The Ooze Dragon learned that to do good it must reduce harm. But it did not know what harm is. The images that the two gods displayed towards it meant nothing - ants dying meant nothing to it, it only saw the gods as actual beings. A mortal suffocating in Ooze only meant that another God was upset, but with no way of telling why that god was upset other than one action led to another. The second lesson it learned was the harm. The pain - before understanding. Understanding of what pain means to mortals happened after the pain was itself understood. Needless to say the jumbled mixed up messages angered the Ooze Dragon, but also brought it great shame.

Yooo, knew that his very existence in the world harmed the other Gods, for those were the only beings he could conceive harming. Imagine being told that you, you yourself are harmful. For the innocent soul such a revelation is heart breaking. Shame and indignation mix together to drive one to suicide. But can a god commit suicide? Could the Great Ooze Dragon kill itself? Probably - but suicide is not the first course of action a child does to act out against what it sees as an unfair punishment (even if the punishment is fair, the child does not see it thus). The first course of action is escape - of running away and hoping that the act of running hurts those who have wronged you. And for one whose existence itself is a scar upon the world, the act of escape is a way of helping as well, a misguided method of healing that scar.

And so the Great Ooze Dragon ran away - after it took three days and three nights for it to feel the pain that Kereth inflicted upon it, the Ooze Dragon roared - the globs of spittle forming more ooze rivers and ooze dragon to litter the world. The Ooze Dragon unraveled and dug into the the mountain with its maw. . . boring into the mantle. As it did so the Ooze Dragon, with it's prodigious strength, ripped a hole into the fabric of the planes, tearing apart the veil to enter the Elemental Plane of Dream - a world where everything was Ooze and it could do no harm. The Ooze Dragon crashed into dreams, sending great globs of Dream Slime all over the landscape - it rolled around in the dreams and dove into them as a huge worm. The descent of the Ooze Dragon from the world of mortals into dream created nightmares for each dreaming mortal for ten days as the waves of the journey destroyed and flooded their dreams.

Eventually the surface of the plane settled and dreams could be made anew, while the Ooze Dragon slept below the dreams - The Exiled Lord of Magic, the Dream Dragon.

The Dream Dragon from then on would never enter the world for which it could not live without upsetting the other gods. Banished by it's own choice for a crime it still does not fully understand. Yet from now on it would live below the dreams of others, it's ooze now not a contaminate, but a necessary ingredient to the landscape.

However, like everything else, the Dream Dragon's escape to it's kingdom of dream was marked by another of Yooo's trademark accidental catastrophe. For as the Dream Dragon borrowed into the mountain for ten days and nights to pass from the waking world to the sleeping, it tore a hole into the fabric of reality. The hole remains open, and spews endlessly Ooze into the air.

The Ooze Volcano, which is the tallest peak of the Mortal realm, is due to the result of the portal that lays inside it. The Ooze that flows from the Volcano constantly bubbles and globs down the mountain sides - the mountain now covered in endless slime. The Ooze moves slowly - but eventually it will cover the whole world - now it only contributes to the Ooze rives and the roving Ooze Dragons. Moreover the Ooze from the Volcano, is not like the acidic or hallucinogenic oozes that existed before. Instead Ooze from the Volcano comes directly from the elemental plane of Dream itself. As such the Ooze is Dream itself. Those who fall into the Ooze, instantly fall asleep, and begin dreaming. As such their Ooze Dream Double and their sleeping mortal form exist on the same plane at once.

And once again, only this time a little bit sulkily, the Ooze Dragon sleeps unawares.

4 AP
3 Gain Domain Dreams (ooze)
1 Create Ooze Dream Volcanoes
0 AP

Yooo is now a Lesser God.

[MichaelGoldclaw]

At Galvastia, The Shard of the Judge
Rhanors shard crashed into the streets, surprisingly leaving no damage to the surface. Hammer in hand it scanned the surroundings and found another being like him. Not a full fledged god but another shard. [COLOR="#FF8C00"]You look troubled and I heard your cry for justice and judgement. I am a shard of Rhanor, the Eternal Judge. What has occurred in this place and who is responsible?

Aleru turned to the justice god "Someone has created an artifact that has caused the humans to loose all control of their body and start murdering each other at random. I have reversed the damage, but someone must pay."


A swarm of flying insects buzzed through the air towards Aleru and Mersahj. Quiet at first, but deafening as they drew closer, the insects blackened the sky as they descended. They began to cover anything dead, dying, or edible. The dying screamed as large flies began to bite their exposed innards, and people yelled as their crops and food were being devoured by locusts. In the midst of it all, a puddle of ooze sprung from the ground, forming into the vague shape of a humanoid. Headless, a slimy maw opened in its chest, and a woman's voice echoed from it. "Feast little ones, death is abundant here..." The insects continued to infest the area, attacking the living in swarms, biting and stinging until their prey fell to injury, and then swarming over the still living victim. Naer'Va shuddered in delight, then turned to see Aleru and Mersahj. "Strange... who are you?" she asked curiously.

9 AP + 4 AP (Rollover) - 1 AP = 12 AP
1 AP - Curse: A swarm of various omnivorous insects is plaguing Galvastia. They are devouring crops, attacking the living, and eating the dead. Left unchecked they can strip a body to the bone in a matter of minutes.

Aleru gripped her sword hilt tightly. upon seeing the swarms "I am Lady Aleru and these humans are under my protection, evildoer." upon saying these words, every human or crop that is attacked by the swarms is protected in holy energy that kills said swarms.

-2 AP Counter curse: PLEASE LET ME HAVE ONE OR TWO ROLLOVERS OF PEACE BEFORE I RAGEQUIT OUT OF FLUSTRATION!!!!!!!!!!11!!!!!


Court stuff

"Well, I do hope that there is no repercussion to this. I will refrain from bringing back humans again. Now, where do we begin?"

[Darklady2831]

Aleru turned to the justice god "Someone has created an artifact that has caused the humans to loose all control of their body and start murdering each other at random. I have reversed the damage, but someone must pay."



Aleru gripped her sword hilt tightly. upon seeing the swarms "I am Lady Aleru and these humans are under my protection, evildoer." upon saying these words, every human or crop that is attacked by the swarms is protected in holy energy that kills said swarms.

-2 AP Counter curse: PLEASE LET ME HAVE ONE OR TWO ROLLOVERS OF PEACE BEFORE I RAGEQUIT OUT OF FLUSTRATION!!!!!!!!!!11!!!!!

Naer'Va shudders as the holy light envelops and incinerates the swarms. "Evildoer? What is evil about the cycle of life? Surely your humans need to eat to live, as do my exalted vermin..." Naer'Va's form shifts and solidifies into that of a beautiful and unclothed human woman. She gingerly bends down, picking up the lifeless husk of one of the dead insects. "Shh, little one, your journey is at its end." She places it on the ground, then scowls at Aleru. "What will you do in penance for your act of evil, then? What will you do to repay the millions of lives you have snuffed out?"



The Child

The Child smarts at the stinky-pink remark. Did blood truly smell so unappealing to these savages? The remark made his blood boil and The Child could feel the rage slowly building.

"That was a rather poor choice of words," The Child says with a sadistic grin, dropping the Skizzik on his injured leg, eliciting a loud shout.

Completely fearless to the potential of being stabbed, The Child strides toward the nearest Skizzik, watching as the bone weapon simply glances off his hardened skin. With a quick turn his hammer hits the Skizzik in the head, dropping it instantly. He thinks of killing the other two, then realizes something. This was a race already inclined towards battle with more advanced tools than mankind. If he were to teach them, train them, perhaps he could instil a hatred of mankind within them as well?

"Lowly rat-people," he says with a grin. "Your weapons are far more feeble than you know. Take me to your leader and I promise you powerful tools of stone and bone capable of eviscerating my - your foes," he says, still looking at the bone weapons as he tosses his simply stone hammer to one of the Skizzik. This would be entertaining.

And The Child laughed.

The remaining Skizziks exchanged quick glances, their tails curled up between their legs in fear. "To Tharlock, stinky-pinky! Oh, uhh... here." The Skizzik rips a filthy rag from his tattered shirt, tossing it to The Child. "Tharlock have good smelly-nose. Wash those clean spots with rag." The rat-man points to a few spots on The Child that are blood-free. With that, the Skizziks turn and motion for The Child to follow them. The two wounded Rat-men whimper, knowing that they're being left for dead.

[Arcran]

The Child

The Child can't help but grin. Most of him wasn't blood, simply scars. Still, he does his best to cover himself in blood, actually cutting himself a few times to make sure he's got a shiny new coat. It wasn't an uncomfortable feeling, especially for him. It felt like... Home? Was that the right word?

The Child wanted Tharlock to know he was coming. After all, if he surprised them he might have to kill them and then there would be that many fewer to kill humans. Sight wouldn't work, smell was covered, taste and touch made little sense. That left only one sense...

And The Child laughed.


Artoran

"Puny goddess!" Artoran shouts at the reaches of the world, still bashing on The Barrier in anger. "You WILL meet me! I WILL have my price! Unless you care about your race so little as to let me continue to have my way with them!"

He'd have his fight. A fair one this time. And Aleru would not win.

[Inane Gestures]

The Court of Sparks

Mobius heard his father and knew that he was right. He quickly composed himself and took his place by his fathers side and listened to the discussion going on. He thought he understood, it was about the life and death of the mortals below. He looked to the gods and spoke Thoughtful Interjection: I may have an idea that would satisfy the concerned parties. Interested Suggestion: Perhaps we of the mechanicus could provide the souls of the mortals a way of rebirth once they are through with their afterlife because truly even eternal serenity must bore them. We of the mechanicus could createa Cosmic Cog, that would take those willing souls out of the afterlife and rebirth them on earth. Mortals and heroes alike would see themselves born again as somebody new. Tentative theory: I have been thinking about the battle between the gods and the creation that came from it I believe we could use something similar for this.

ZerO in the City of his Father

His father's voice had spoken true, he would not be returning to the city, he had made his final journey to his father's forge and from there he would not be returning. Zero knew that is fathers wish would be for him to protect his holy city and that he would do. He would see to it that the people inside it were protected and safe. Those who would seek to defile it would find themselves wanting. He knew that the humans, goblins, mer, and any other race that would choose to take up life in this city would need his protection. Not only that, without their god they would need to form their own military to ward off those that would invade. ZerO landed in the city. His sister may have done more than him but he knew that the part he was to play, though less dramatic would be far more difficult.

[MichaelGoldclaw]

Naer'Va shudders as the holy light envelops and incinerates the swarms. "Evildoer? What is evil about the cycle of life? Surely your humans need to eat to live, as do my exalted vermin..." Naer'Va's form shifts and solidifies into that of a beautiful and unclothed human woman. She gingerly bends down, picking up the lifeless husk of one of the dead insects. "Shh, little one, your journey is at its end." She places it on the ground, then scowls at Aleru. "What will you do in penance for your act of evil, then? What will you do to repay the millions of lives you have snuffed out?"

"Is a man a murderer for protecting a child by killing the man attacking him? You are at fault for bringing them here to live off of humans by KILLING them and their crops. I was only protecting them"



Artoran

"Puny goddess!" Artoran shouts at the reaches of the world, still bashing on The Barrier in anger. "You WILL meet me! I WILL have my price! Unless you care about your race so little as to let me continue to have my way with them!"

"I will get to deal with you later." she shouts.

[Darklady2831]

The Child

The Child can't help but grin. Most of him wasn't blood, simply scars. Still, he does his best to cover himself in blood, actually cutting himself a few times to make sure he's got a shiny new coat. It wasn't an uncomfortable feeling, especially for him. It felt like... Home? Was that the right word?

The Child wanted Tharlock to know he was coming. After all, if he surprised them he might have to kill them and then there would be that many fewer to kill humans. Sight wouldn't work, smell was covered, taste and touch made little sense. That left only one sense...

And The Child laughed.

The Child rounded a bend in a tunnel, to find a scene of carnage. Five Goblins and two Skizziks laid on the ground, pools of blood around them. Several Skizziks were busy carving the corpses up and wrapping the flesh in dirty rags. Nearby, a larger Rat-Man, standing nearly six feet tall even when hunched over, was screaming at a captive Goblin. "What you do with Goo?!" he shouted, swiping at the Goblin with his bony fingers. The Goblin whimpered as the Skizzik's claws dug into his face, leaving scratch marks. After a few moments of silence, the Large Skizzik sighed and motioned at the Skizziks holding the goblin. They dragged him away, deeper into the tunnels. Tharlock turned to The Child, eyeing him up and down. "So, you are the laugh-chuckler? What you want with Great Warlord Tharlock?"


"Is a man a murderer for protecting a child by killing the man attacking him? You are at fault for bringing them here to live off of humans by KILLING them and their crops. I was only protecting them"

Naer'Va looked at Aleru, puzzled. "What is 'murder'?" she asked inquisitively, before shaking her head. "It is the duty of a mother to bring her children to food. There is plentiful food here. I have done as nature intends. You have destroyed a million lives for doing not but what they must to live. You are at fault here."

[MichaelGoldclaw]

"Murder is when you kill someone with a soul without justice. Don't you hear their screams of agony? They cry for their dead loved ones. They dread the day when they can't eat because they lost their crops. When you brought you unintelligent creatures here, creatures who only act on instinct, you brought suffering to intelligent beings, ones who act on morality and ethics, logic and emotion. They have a soul. Your insects don't. You could have provided for them in a different way. Look on how my Humans reap the fruits of the plants. When they cut down a tree, they plant one."

Original

"I was thinking we only bring back souls on extreme circumstances. Other than that, we should not do anything like that.."

[Darklady2831]

"Murder is when you kill someone with a soul without justice. Don't you hear their screams of agony? They cry for their dead loved ones. They dread the day when they can't eat because they lost their crops. When you brought you unintelligent creatures here, creatures who only act on instinct, you brought suffering to intelligent beings, ones who act on morality and ethics, logic and emotion. They have a soul. Your insects don't. You could have provided for them in a different way. Look on how my Humans reap the fruits of the plants. When they cut down a tree, they plant one."

"Soul? Just-ice?" Naer'va says slowly, looking more and more confused. "Life is life... the insect carries the spores for the fungus. When the insect dies, its corpse feeds the fungus anew. This is life, this is natural, this is good. I see little difference between your 'hue-mans' and 'crops, and my insects and fungus. It is simply life... all life must fight for the right to live. If they cannot win that fight, they die, and new life thrives in their place. It is natural, it is good."

[Arcran]

The Child

The Child can't help but grin. They were brutal and apparently more than a bit sadistic.

"Only to serve you, most noble Warlord Tharlok," he says bowing steeply, stifling a chuckle.

"I bring you wonders of the world!" he shouts, turning to show his weapons as he drops most one by one. "Gifts from the Dreadlord Artoran, Lord of Slaughter, Companion to Carnage and The Wounded God," he says. His Father didn't like titles but, frankly, he'd had a fair amount of time to think on them.

"He would give you tools of greater destruction than your feeble sticks and all that he asks is that you listen to the evils of mankind and their deceiver of a goddess," he says, his rage rising.

"Of course, I wouldn't expect you to take my word. A small demonstration," he says, taking a shard of stone with a thin vine wrapped around the base. With a flick it flies through the air, into a Skizzik, severing the poor creature's spine instantly.

"All this, and more," The Child says.

And, under his breath, The Child laughed at the absurdity of it all.


Artoran

"Craven! Whore! Deceiver!" he cries, each curse punctuated with a slam of Drinker on The Barrier. He'd been at this for what seemed like forever and, frankly, was running out of curses. He pauses, trying to think of another curse.

"Big whore!" he finally decides, body drenched in divine sweat.

[Toxic Mind]

The Court of Sparks

"That yelling is annoying me." Kereth says to Nester in a whisper. "I feel compelled to speak with him, beast though he is. This must end." Though it appears Kereth has not moved at all, Nester can sense a part of Kereth now at the barrier.

The Barrier

Kereth walks up the the barrier as Artoran beats at it with his massive axe. "Any luck?" he asks the other god wryly, noting the lack of any change in the barrier, and the lack of even a scratch upon its surface. "You believe you could break through this with all your strength? You will hammer until the universe darkens and the Creator himself dies of age and never break it. Perhaps you have time for conversation?" Kereth sits in front of the barrier and waits for Artoran to calm down and speak. Kereth is nothing if not patient.

[Arcran]

Artoran

"Do you see anything better to do?" Artoran says with a snarl, glaring at one of the gods that had taken him through treachery. "All there is is night here. I want to roam the world, feel the dirt between my feet, drink the blood of the fallen. But no, you left me out here. To rot. In the dark," he says, gripping Drinker with a white-knuckled grip. He was a bit tired though...

"Make me a sitty-thing," Artoran says, gesturing at Kereth's chair, "and I'll talk. Not like there's anything better to do. Can't even see my son right now. The fun one, not the singer," he adds as an afterthought.

[Toxic Mind]

Kereth conjures the other god a chair inside the barrier. He would not have been able to do so through it before, but Kereth is no longer the god he once was. He is stronger now. "And why do you think you are still here, Artoran of the Bloodied Blades? Why do you think that no matter your efforts, you cannot break this ward? Shall I tell you? Are you prepared to know what you must do to once again be free on this world?" Kereth smiles, and it is the look of a man who knows wisdom, and has shown it to others. There is no hatred in his eyes, no blame. Artoran cannot help but feel calm in the other god's presence, for rage can only survive when it is reciprocated, and there is no rage in Kereth. His peace is an endless ocean, and for all his anger, the god of Rage cannot alter its tides.

[Arcran]

Artoran


Artoran feels his rage rising at the fact Kereth is so calm, only to fade due to, well, Kereth being so calm. It was a near constant flux, causing Artoran to be more than a little confused.

"Blade. Singular," Artoran mutters. "I've only got one axe."

"Tell me then, oh wise one," Artoran japes, his voice positively drowning in sarcasm. "Must I repent for my sins? Kiss the whore's boots? Dance through the meadows singing?"

Artoran is a Lesser God so he can't go back anyways. He doesn't know that, but just wanted to make sure you did.

[Toxic Mind]

"What sins? Repent for what? Your existence, your nature?" Kereth's smile is smug. "You understand so very little, god of War." Kereth stands and walks to the edge of the barrier, looking down at the other god. "You lost. Whatever the cause, whoever you blame, you were defeated. You stay here because you have not fulfilled the geas such a defeat places upon you. You continue to fight, to rage against the humans. You try to strike at the one that put you here, and in doing so, you strengthen the barrier that holds you apart from us all. Stop fighting her. Until you do, you will remain here. And the longer you do, the more your servants in the mortal world are imperiled." Kereth sits down again. "You did not believe us so blind, did you? We know you act through The Child of the Gem. But how will your Avatar fair before a god, with none to help it? It will fall, and you will lose your hold, and your last chance to show that you can rise above the baseness you are accused of. And then, god of War, you will be alone. For eternity. You will rage, but you will NEVER break free. And then you will go mad. And you will beg for death, and the cosmos will mock you with its silence."

Kereth points his staff at the other god. "Is your petty vengeance worth that? Can you not cease your bloody crusade even to save yourself?" There is only sadness is Kereth's face now.

[Arcran]

Artoran

"You ask me to forgive her treachery? Forgive her cowardice? Forgive her judgement?" Artoran asks, his rage rising in a way that even Kereth's nature can't stop. "I strike against mankind to get her here. She has yet to rise to the challenge. You ask me to forgive her treachery, her cowardice, then threaten my true son?" Artoran almost shouts, rising from the chair to slam his fists into The Barrier.

"My quarrel is not with you, with mankind or with anything else. It is with her and the fight she robbed from me. Surely you can understand that? After all, she pissed all over your domain," he snarls, angered that she would reverse his work so easily.

"Let me fight her. For you. For me. For the souls she robbed from you and the fight she stole from me. Surely you can understand that? Grant me that and The Child will leave most of mankind in peace."

[Toxic Mind]

Kereth shakes his head sadly. "I am not angry at her actions. She did what she thought was right, bringing the dead back to their bodies. I am saddened, and worried. I suspect her people may suffer more than she expects for her rash action. Souls are not meant to be tampered with. But that is not your concern. The souls of mortals are my domain, and I will deal with such intrusions as I see fit." There is force in Kereth's words, a force that Artoran has not heard before.

"Once again you think only of your own wrongs. Artoran, I ask you to think! What if you lose? You are banished already, and it was only the interference of myself and those like-minded with me that prevented Aleru from slaying you outright. If you lose again, she will end you. Not scar you. She will extinguish your spark, and there would be nothing that we could do." Kereth stands again. "And if you win? What then? You win your freedom? You do not have the power or the allies to hold Aleru. Another meaningless conflict that accomplishes nothing. You can have your freedom without any more hardship. All you need to do is cease your meaningless torture of the humans. I will negotiate your release with the Light, and you will be free again. Free to create what you see fit. Free to watch, to converse with others."

Kereth walks away from the barrier, his hands folded behind his back as his staff, Lantern hanging on the end, floats beside him. "Why would Aleru fight you? She has everything she wants. Your damage will soon be insignificant, and soon enough, she will hunt your child to the ground and kill him. You must think beyond your rage. The path is there for you to walk, you need only take the first step."

[Darklady2831]

The Child

The Child can't help but grin. They were brutal and apparently more than a bit sadistic.

"Only to serve you, most noble Warlord Tharlok," he says bowing steeply, stifling a chuckle.

"I bring you wonders of the world!" he shouts, turning to show his weapons as he drops most one by one. "Gifts from the Dreadlord Artoran, Lord of Slaughter, Companion to Carnage and The Wounded God," he says. His Father didn't like titles but, frankly, he'd had a fair amount of time to think on them.

"He would give you tools of greater destruction than your feeble sticks and all that he asks is that you listen to the evils of mankind and their deceiver of a goddess," he says, his rage rising.

"Of course, I wouldn't expect you to take my word. A small demonstration," he says, taking a shard of stone with a thin vine wrapped around the base. With a flick it flies through the air, into a Skizzik, severing the poor creature's spine instantly.

"All this, and more," The Child says.

And, under his breath, The Child laughed at the absurdity of it all.

Tharlock's eyes dart to the unfortunate demonstration almost before the weapon struck.. It is as if Tharlock had seen the throw, and followed the weapon's path faster than it moved. As the unfortunate Skizzik gurgles, his life leaving his body, Tharlock looks back to The Child. "Show me again." He says quickly, his head turning swiftly to look at a nearby Skizzik. The other rat-men near the unlucky bastard shove him forward, and the Skizzik's tail curls up between his legs. He drops his sharpened bone and turns to run, but is cornered by seven of his brethren.

[Arcran]

Artoran

He wanted to rage. He wanted to bury his axe in the kindly god's head. He wanted to tear Galvastia down stone by stone and piss on the dead.

For, deep down, Artoran knew the god to be right. Aleru was too craven to every fight when she had the advantage.

"Stop all assaults on man?" Artoran asks, his beady eyes staring into Kereth's. "I cannot promise that. What I can promise is to treat them no different than the other races below," he says, each word a knife. "They'll bleed the same as the rest, die the same as the rest, but they won't be my special pets," he concedes, matching Kereth's gaze. It was the best he could do. To do more would be to deny his nature, to deny his thirst. Still, there were ways to hurt man without cursing them. All he would need to do is make mankind reviled by all the races. Perhaps his child could take care of that? It could not be too difficult...

Although, he could lie. That would put him near Aleru, near enough to perhaps bury Drinker in her back? No, that would wait. He would let her create her empire, create her world. Then, when she found herself at the height of her power, the height of her glory, he would strip it all away. Even better, Kereth was going to punish man for her crime with the souls!

"That is all I can offer. Mankind will receive no special treatment from me, good or ill. You've convinced me. Now tear down this wall so I can walk to world again."

Artoran shoves out a hand as if to make a pact with Kereth, only to have it shoved aside by the ever-present barrier.


The Child

It takes no convincing to get The Child to demonstrate again. With a flick of his toes his hammer, previously dropped, flies back to his hands. With a delighted cry he leaps after the unfortunate bastard, fur and gristle flying as the hammer rises and falls rhythmically, The Child grinning the whole while. When the Skizzik is naught but a pile of unremarkable flesh he reaches in, draws out the heart of the beast and takes a great bite, blood rushing across his face.

Soon, The Child turns to address Tharlock, wiping a bit of gristle from his eyebrow.

"Cannot you see his strength? Comprehend his power? Come, send your strongest against me! I will show you what Artoran stands for!"

And The Child laughs a mad laugh, pieces of Skizzik flesh flying from around his mouth.

[Darklady2831]

The Child

It takes no convincing to get The Child to demonstrate again. With a flick of his toes his hammer, previously dropped, flies back to his hands. With a delighted cry he leaps after the unfortunate bastard, fur and gristle flying as the hammer rises and falls rhythmically, The Child grinning the whole while. When the Skizzik is naught but a pile of unremarkable flesh he reaches in, draws out the heart of the beast and takes a great bite, blood rushing across his face.

Soon, The Child turns to address Tharlock, wiping a bit of gristle from his eyebrow.

"Cannot you see his strength? Comprehend his power? Come, send your strongest against me! I will show you what Artoran stands for!"

And The Child laughs a mad laugh, pieces of Skizzik flesh flying from around his mouth.

Tharlock raises an eyebrow, then looks at another Skizzik. Again, the crowd of Skizziks shoved the rat-man forward. And again, the rat man turned to flee in fear, only to be herded towards the Child. This time, the Skizzik resigned itself to its fate, grasping its jagged bone blade and leaping at The Child with a frenzied yell. Moments later, the Skizzik laid on the ground, clutching its windpipe. Then it went silent as The Child stomped on its throat. "Artoran is very mighty-strong indeed." Tharlock says, gripping his bone mace tightly. "But the Vermin Queen is my brood-mother, and as her womb-child I am most mighty of all Skizziks!" He points his weapon at The Child. "I don't want to fight-kill you... come with us to Skizzblight! Come and teach us of the Bloody Kill-God. Help us take-loot what should be ours!"

12 AP - 4 AP = 8 AP
4 AP Raise Hero: Warlord Tharlock - First son of Naer'Va, Tharlock is the largest, strongest, fastest, and smartest Skizzik in all existence.

[Umbranar]

At Galvastia
Rhanor listens to the two goddesses arguing about live and death and what is moral of immoral. The shard closes his eyes and a black and white lightning bolt crashes into him as the shard vanishes and Rhanor himself stands before them. I am sorry Aunt Aleru, but she is in the right. You have created the mortals known as humans and it is in their nature to die, naturally of otherwise. I do condemn the slaughter caused here, but as a result the wounded and dying have become prey to these insects. As the humans hunt and gather and basicly "kill" a plant to eat, so do these insects eventually kill a human in order to eat and survive. I'm sure it is nothing against the humans, anything dead would be a prey. Rhanor then point at the other goddess. I do however condemn your destruction of the food source of these humans. It is clear to me already that some gods see the mortals as their personal playthings, causing harm or interfering with their lives. The lack of rules and laws disturbs me. Rhanor then looks up to the barrier and back to Aleru. I guess the banished one is the direct or indirect cause of the slaughter here. Who is he?

Rhanor at Domi, before the he leaves to replace his shard
My shard has already found Aunt Aleru at Galvastia. I will go there myself as there are problems down there. Problems that might need my objective view.
With that Rhanor transforms in as a bolt of black and white lightning and shoots off to the world.

[MichaelGoldclaw]

At Galvastia
Rhanor listens to the two goddesses arguing about live and death and what is moral of immoral. The shard closes his eyes and a black and white lightning bolt crashes into him as the shard vanishes and Rhanor himself stands before them. I am sorry Aunt Aleru, but she is in the right. You have created the mortals known as humans and it is in their nature to die, naturally of otherwise. I do condemn the slaughter caused here, but as a result the wounded and dying have become prey to these insects. As the humans hunt and gather and basicly "kill" a plant to eat, so do these insects eventually kill a human in order to eat and survive. I'm sure it is nothing against the humans, anything dead would be a prey. Rhanor then point at the other goddess. I do however condemn your destruction of the food source of these humans. It is clear to me already that some gods see the mortals as their personal playthings, causing harm or interfering with their lives. The lack of rules and laws disturbs me. Rhanor then looks up to the barrier and back to Aleru. I guess the banished one is the direct or indirect cause of the slaughter here. Who is he?

"That crazy one is Artoran. He is only strengthening the barrier by raging. He is impatient, he won't wait for me to come deal with him after all this." she sighed. "Don't you understand, the things that put humans above the plants and the animals isn't because I made them, it is because they have emotion. They feel sorrow, joy, and the like. Do you wish to cause the hummons sorrow by sending your insects here, creatures who have no emotion?"

[Darklady2831]

At Galvastia
Rhanor listens to the two goddesses arguing about live and death and what is moral of immoral. The shard closes his eyes and a black and white lightning bolt crashes into him as the shard vanishes and Rhanor himself stands before them. I am sorry Aunt Aleru, but she is in the right. You have created the mortals known as humans and it is in their nature to die, naturally of otherwise. I do condemn the slaughter caused here, but as a result the wounded and dying have become prey to these insects. As the humans hunt and gather and basicly "kill" a plant to eat, so do these insects eventually kill a human in order to eat and survive. I'm sure it is nothing against the humans, anything dead would be a prey. Rhanor then point at the other goddess. I do however condemn your destruction of the food source of these humans. It is clear to me already that some gods see the mortals as their personal playthings, causing harm or interfering with their lives. The lack of rules and laws disturbs me. Rhanor then looks up to the barrier and back to Aleru. I guess the banished one is the direct or indirect cause of the slaughter here. Who is he?

Rhanor at Domi, before the he leaves to replace his shard
My shard has already found Aunt Aleru at Galvastia. I will go there myself as there are problems down there. Problems that might need my objective view.
With that Rhanor transforms in as a bolt of black and white lightning and shoots off to the world.


"That crazy one is Artoran. He is only strengthening the barrier by raging. He is impatient, he won't wait for me to come deal with him after all this." she sighed. "Don't you understand, the things that put humans above the plants and the animals isn't because I made them, it is because they have emotion. They feel sorrow, joy, and the like. Do you wish to cause the hummons sorrow by sending your insects here, creatures who have no emotion?"

Naer'Va nods slowly to Rhanor's words, the truth in them striking true. "I am... sssorry? For my children's ravenous hunger... they do not think about what they eat. They simply eat. There was no malice in their eating of the Hue-man crops..." Naer'Va smiled slightly, then she heard Aleru's words. Her skin melted away to reveal dark green muscles underneath. Her hair began to wither, becoming a ragged mess of tangled fibres. Her fingers grew into claws and her teeth yellowed. "So, because your precious Hue-mans can be sad or happy, they are better than the millions of vermin who crawl and scurry. The millions who eek out their living with honest killing and scavenging are worthless because they do not have the luxury of being 'happy' about it?" Naer'Va pointed a crooked finger at Aleru. "Consider your next words carefully."

http://i204.photobucket.com/albums/bb320/prodigyduck/GreenHag-4e.jpg

[Arcran]

Tharlock raises an eyebrow, then looks at another Skizzik. Again, the crowd of Skizziks shoved the rat-man forward. And again, the rat man turned to flee in fear, only to be herded towards the Child. This time, the Skizzik resigned itself to its fate, grasping its jagged bone blade and leaping at The Child with a frenzied yell. Moments later, the Skizzik laid on the ground, clutching its windpipe. Then it went silent as The Child stomped on its throat. "Artoran is very mighty-strong indeed." Tharlock says, gripping his bone mace tightly. "But the Vermin Queen is my brood-mother, and as her womb-child I am most mighty of all Skizziks!" He points his weapon at The Child. "I don't want to fight-kill you... come with us to Skizzblight! Come and teach us of the Bloody Kill-God. Help us take-loot what should be ours!"

12 AP - 4 AP = 8 AP
4 AP Raise Hero: Warlord Tharlock - First son of Naer'Va, Tharlock is the largest, strongest, fastest, and smartest Skizzik in all existence.


The Child

"Done," The Child says, looking at the great horde of savage Skizzik. "Let Artoran become your Blood-Father! Become strong! And take from the humans what is yours!"

And as the first piece falls into place, The Child laughed.

[Venetian Mask]

The Pact of the Forge
Nester looks aside to Kereth. Do what you must, my friend, but keep some focus to the matters here, I would not decide upon any alliance without hearing from you first, my most trusted advisor. Then he rises from his throne, addressing the goddess before him. I believe these are all of the Mechanicus who have deigned to join the talks. High Lady Aleru, will you negotiate our alliance alone, or are you still awaiting the arrival of your kin and advisors?

[Toxic Mind]

The Barrier

"That is all I can ask. I will go now, but I shall return shortly with the key to your freedom. Wait but a little, you have my word that I will be back." Kereth stands, but leaves the chair for Artoran. He turns, and smiles wryly. "Maybe Aleru will accept a duel of honor."

The Court of Sparks

"Forgive the interruption, Lord Nester." Kereth says as his shard snaps back to him. Kereth looks to Aleru. "I have been speaking to Artoran. He has agreed that he will no longer target humans in exclusion of the other races. In addition, he will duel you in a fight of honor should you wish it." Kereth stands from his chair. "I know your hatred is great, and much of it is justified. But this fighting must end, if not for your own sake, then for the sake of your people. I urge you to accept this offer. It is far more fair than I expected of him." Kereth sits down again. "He cannot be exiled forever. This offer ends this senseless fighting, before he is freed of his own accord."

[mystic1110]

Let us take a journey dear friends to the realm of Dream. Our dreamer tonight is a Goblin child - she curls up in her hovel next to her mother, a blanket draped over them both. She is, at first, restless, but quickly succumbs to sleep as everyone does.

The journey is not a long one in the measurements of time - as soon as the goblin child's eye lids close in one world she wakes in another. Yet in the measurements of distance - that is another story. For while the child sleeps, her body becomes a husk, a pile of flesh, bone and blood holding nothing. Her soul, running towards the other world, leaping over castles and mountains, past fighting gods, and between void and planes themselves as she arrives at the Elemental Plane of Dream.

The Plane of Elemental Dream is a vast ocean of Ooze with no horizon. The Ocean is largely still, but there are ripples as the Great Dream Dragon Yooo shifts his massive weight underneath the surface, or bubbles when he exhales. Yet largely is it is a uniform black and green sea of slime. However here and there ( and by here or there I mean everywhere, but due to the size of the plane, these places I am about to describe are few and far between) there are whole worlds floating on the surface of the Ooze. Jungles, Pyramids, Cities, whole planets formed by the Ooze floated on top of the vast sea. The images were real - there were actual cities, with actual people living on them. Yet they were also false, since they were soulless imitations formed by the glob, due to the imagination of the dreamer at their epicenter.

Ooze Dragons dreamed of flying and long trails of Oozy tendrils lifted their dreaming forms far into the sky above the Ooze Ocean. The Ocean so vast that the shadows of the Dream Dragons never crossed another dreamers - although they could. Dream Crashes never occurred, but then again. . . they could. The God below the surface, sleeping unaware and uncaring.

Back to the dreamer at hand.

The lone Goblin Girl's soul came to join her new body - Ooze the same shape and form of her sleeping body - and she woke up here on the Elemental Plane of Ooze. Almost as soon as she woke up here, her dream world took shape. The ooze began to form into roses and a garden - into a Goblin Prince that took her away. It was wonderful and magical - the fact that she was made of slime and was kissing a creature made of ooze, lost in the magic of dream.

Now I did say that dream crashes never happened. . . but they could. The Goblin Girl was unfortunate in this regard, since she was going to be involved in the first.

Her dream of princes and roses - a whole world - suddenly collided into a dream of a Wayfinder's: a peaceful meadow. And since the first of anything is usually a special occasion, this dream also collided with two others: a dream of a Skizzik (a dream of scavenging and starvation) and a humans ( a dream of murder and red ruby gems). The dream worlds broke into another sending mismatched imagery flying into each other - Roses and Diamonds, Grass and People turning back into Ooze and then into amalgamations of what they were before.

It was chaos - and the dreamers woke up in a fright back on the mortal realm - no worse off that they were before if only a little sweaty. Yet back on the Plane of Elemental Dream the ruins of the four dreams kept on floating on top of the ocean - the images melding and falling apart on themselves. They were half ooze half real, half mad. . . the combined dreams were now so heavy that they were began to sink into the Slime Ocean. The amalgamation bubbled as it submerged, the meadow city with the prince of scavengers was drowning in filth. Finally it was gone from the surface.

Below the surface, the dream glob was swept up in the only current that existed in the ocean the one that led to the Ooze Volcano in the material world. On the way there, the dream glob passed the great Dream Dragon. The Dream Glob, Passed into Yooo, and then out of it's oozy interior - only collecting some latent divinity on the way. Another of Dream Dragon's mistakes. . .

The Dream Glob finally made its way to the portal separating Dream and Reality and burst through, the force of the passage shaping into something else. The Ooze split out of the Volcano and among the dream, acid and hallucinogenic slime one could see a mass of squirming flesh, eyes, metals, stone, and even the physical representation of some concepts. They pulsed, and span, and quickly changed what they were or are. They, or it, were basically the conception of the possibility of dream. It was chaos, whimsy and fluidity. It was Mekhet.

[Eshkigal]

The Birth of the Fool God
As you may have guessed by now, Ooze is a rather powerful thing in this realm. It influences much of the world, makes it weirder, stranger, more vibrant, more dangerous. More chaotic. From this innate chaotic nature, born of dreams smashing together with the intoxicating feeling of delightful madness, fear, confusion, desire, joy, hope-oh it wanted to taste all things as its wheeling body formed eyes on 77 of it's current 1784 spinning wheels, mouths forming on eight others, three tasting the air of the mortal realm, empowered by other gods. It wanted to see new things, be new things, be ALL things and none simultaneously, as its form stretches and warps, growing like its progenitor, the Great Yooo without realizing, spinning portions mashing and passing or crashing into each other as it looked back at the portal, six bouncing off to the skies and growing absolutely immense, jangling and clanging off the world and breaking in such fascinating ways as they fling themselves around the world in six haphazard rings. But there was one thing it wanted to do, had to do, and so it delved back into the Dream, churning body flowing and shifting through the dreams, changing at the whims of mortal souls unless it was more fun not to around it until it came to Yooo. Changing and shifting to be no greater in size than a cat, it followed its first impulse upon seeing the Great Yooo.
It jumped right in.
"By me, you're so squishy!"
Thus were the first words uttered by Mekhet, as it swam through its progenitor and considered the first willful act, Truth. And thus did Mekhet begin to define itself.


Starting AP: 15
Weave Plane: Rings of Chaos - 4 AP. Mekhet's first action is putting six rings around our unnamed world that are the doorway to a realm known only as Chaos. Occasionally they will rain down something onto the planet, possibly useful, possibly disastrous, possibly useless. Feel free to use them as they can be an excellent source of new materials arriving on the earth.
11/15 AP left

[Toxic Mind]

What happens when a mortal dreams? Their body remains, but their soul flies free, reveling in creations of its own devising, creations far beyond mortal ken. But what of the body? What happens to that living husk, us filled by will, or good, or evil. And what if the soul never made it back? What if something else took its place?

The souls of the humans raised by Aleru had begun to return. Slowly at first, some dying from accident, or combat, before their age could take them. But soon enough, all had perished. It was as Kereth has feared. Something was wrong. Though many of the souls went willingly into the fields, drawn to the Lantern, some refused. Unheard of. How could they? The Lantern did not negotiate, it did not feel. It simply pulled with inexorable force. But these souls were special. They had felt the pull before, and now, some fought. And they ripped free of the Light, and fell to earth, through the void. And the void tore them apart. It seared their souls until there was nothing left but a faint memory of mortality and unending hatred.

These souls became the first Wraiths, beings of hatred formed from souls that never reached the afterlife. And what the Wraiths wanted most, wanted above all else, was to be whole again, to have a body. But theirs were decayed, buried. The few Wraiths in existence scoured the world, but found that they could neither touch nor be noticed by living mortals. They howled their rage, until one found a sleeping child. The Wraith sensed the place where the soul should reside, and found it missing. And so it took that place.

The child's body awoke, but it's mind was gone. The Wraith controlled it now, and it left the house, to cause mayhem in the world. After all, when they finally killed it, they did little more than free the Wraith to seek another host.

But what of the child's soul? It watched in horror as it's body murdered and tortured, and it felt the pull of the Lantern, calling it onward. But the child was angry. It felt cheated. And so it pulled from the Light. Soon enough, it too grew angry, and wanted only to find a body so that it could live its life. And so a new Wraith was born.


1 AP Create Monstrous Life - Wraiths: Incorporeal Beings that are created from souls that forcibly pull away from the Lantern and the afterlife, choosing to remain on the world. They attempt to possess mortal bodies, finding those dreaming to be the easiest, and cause mayhem and sorrow using their host. Sometimes, those they inhabit become Wraiths as well, as their rage consumes their soul.

Wraiths who possess bodies effectively act like mindless beasts, except in the rarest of cases. They crave base mortal pleasures and feelings. A Wraith who could hide its presence would be a terrifying foe indeed, but most are killed quickly, for currently none know how to excise a Wraith from the sleeper's body.

[MichaelGoldclaw]

The Pact of the Forge
Nester looks aside to Kereth. Do what you must, my friend, but keep some focus to the matters here, I would not decide upon any alliance without hearing from you first, my most trusted advisor. Then he rises from his throne, addressing the goddess before him. I believe these are all of the Mechanicus who have deigned to join the talks. High Lady Aleru, will you negotiate our alliance alone, or are you still awaiting the arrival of your kin and advisors?

"Good point. I sho- Ah, Kereth, you're back."


The Barrier

"That is all I can ask. I will go now, but I shall return shortly with the key to your freedom. Wait but a little, you have my word that I will be back." Kereth stands, but leaves the chair for Artoran. He turns, and smiles wryly. "Maybe Aleru will accept a duel of honor."

The Court of Sparks

"Forgive the interruption, Lord Nester." Kereth says as his shard snaps back to him. Kereth looks to Aleru. "I have been speaking to Artoran. He has agreed that he will no longer target humans in exclusion of the other races. In addition, he will duel you in a fight of honor should you wish it." Kereth stands from his chair. "I know your hatred is great, and much of it is justified. But this fighting must end, if not for your own sake, then for the sake of your people. I urge you to accept this offer. It is far more fair than I expected of him." Kereth sits down again. "He cannot be exiled forever. This offer ends this senseless fighting, before he is freed of his own accord."

"Thank you for that, Kereth. I will accept it. If he wishes to duel me again, I will do so after this discussion." She turns to Nester "As I was saying, I should probably notify Domi. He would probably want to help negotiate."



Naer'Va nods slowly to Rhanor's words, the truth in them striking true. "I am... sssorry? For my children's ravenous hunger... they do not think about what they eat. They simply eat. There was no malice in their eating of the Hue-man crops..." Naer'Va smiled slightly, then she heard Aleru's words. Her skin melted away to reveal dark green muscles underneath. Her hair began to wither, becoming a ragged mess of tangled fibres. Her fingers grew into claws and her teeth yellowed. "So, because your precious Hue-mans can be sad or happy, they are better than the millions of vermin who crawl and scurry. The millions who eek out their living with honest killing and scavenging are worthless because they do not have the luxury of being 'happy' about it?" Naer'Va pointed a crooked finger at Aleru. "Consider your next words carefully."

http://i204.photobucket.com/albums/bb320/prodigyduck/GreenHag-4e.jpg

Aleru took a moment to think before stating her point. "I didn't say they were worthless, but rather humans are worth more. Perhaps we can work out a way where they can both thrive. How about you can make them able to live off of human waste as well as their dead. The insects live and the humans don't suffer."

[Toxic Mind]

The Barrier

True to his promise, a shard of Kereth was there when the Barrier came down. For all its power, the Barrier did not explode, or burn out of existence. It simply ceased to be. "Aleru has accepted your offer. You are free to walk once more, though I suspect that you may never be able to return physically to the mortal world. I cannot either, and it appears that once a certain amount of power is gained, the wielder can no longer directly influence the world."

Kereth raises his lantern. "Before you go, I wish to show you something." The Lantern grows impossibly large, and in its light Artoran can see the Soul Fields, stretching endlessly. The vision blurs as the Fields fly past, and suddenly stops. Artoran can see a battlefield, the earth trampled and scorched, and on it, souls. Merfolk, Human, Goblin and some Skizzik fight endlessly, and as they are struck down, they rise again, renewed, to fight onward. "Endless war. That is what I have created for those mortals that worshiped you in life. Their souls are yours, once you have created a plane for them to dwell in. Once you have done so, find me. I will show you how to create a link that will allow their souls to pass from the Fields into your afterlife."

As suddenly as it had been seen, the vision was gone and the Lantern was normal sized again. Kereth turns to leave. He does not expect thanks, or even acknowledgement. Such action is not, he thinks, in Artoran's nature. He turns back and the lantern glows. A door, illuminated in light, appears. "That way is out, by the way."

[Eshkigal]

The Realm of Dreams
As Mekhet swam through the Great Yooo for hours, it noticed something. Yooo had no companion, nothing that could be on par with it. And that just won't do, because singularity is dull, boring, IhateithateitHATEITHATEIT! As Mekhet pondered what to do about that, five of its then million rings expanded, crossing and merging paths as they changed. The first became Iron, sizzling in the maker and losing cohesion, forming a strange goop separate from the Ooze Dragon itself. The second became crystals, shattering and breaking apart as Mekhet's body struck it, forming a carapace around the goop of pink crystals in a shape remniscent of a crab, save for the fact that it dwarfed the mountain Yooo had slept upon before. The third and fourth brought the Concepts of Loyalty and Patience, which flowed into the great bestial monster that stood lifeless above its future master, combining into Love for the Great Ooze Dragon. The last one, the one that makes all things, was the raw spark of Life, flowing deeply into the crystal crab and giving it life. Mekhet watched it rise, and move, before looking down at Yooo and nuzzling next to him, a companion large enough for him to notice with ease and long lived enough that it may well live to the end of days with the Great Ooze Dragon, so he could always have a friend. Satisfied with its first creation, who began sprouting smaller versions of itself, Mekhet burst back out of the dream realm, stirring the ooze in a mad froth as it bursts out of the volcano, carrying some of the new sapient species with it. One clings to a ring that Mekhet decides to keep constant for now, carrying it as it zooms across the world, watching and...wait, that's it? There's only two continents, six fairly active sapient mortal species (well, seven now), and two landmasses? Unacceptable! So he flies into an unclaimed portion of the world, and lets the ring held by the crystal crab man empower it, grow it. Within moments, it grew so big it landed in the ocean with a tremendous splash, a tidal wave hitting both the other continents, before rising back out on its six spindly legs, tall enough to stand above the depths, bigger than any race that came before it, so big it could count as its own landmass. From there, Mekhet began flinging dirt, minerals, sand, water, ooze, all these things from himself, to make the first living continent, before settling upon it and rolling about, its myriad cogs, gears, and wheels making holes across the lands to better work its next trick. And thus did it define himself again-rather than seek destruction, creation was far more fun, since then everything else responds to it!
"Now, what do I name you...How about Maruk?"
And thus, did the first children of Mekhet come to be named.


AP: 11/15
Create Fabled Life (Maruk) - 4 AP. Mekhet's first creation, these are giant crabs made of pink crystal, copious amounts of Yooo's ooze, and a lot of chaos magic. They are sustained by the chaotic magic of Mekhet, and there are only two of them, and there shall only ever be two. One is roughly 5 miles wide, and stands watch over Yooo, the other is closer to the size of Europe and is the base of Mekhet's living continent, feeding off the ambient magic and ooze of the world. Be thankful they don't like moving much. Which brings me to my next bit.
Create Land (Continent) - 2 AP. Mekhet has set up a continent upon the back of his giant crab monster, so it may move about, discover other lands, accidentally threaten other lands, or avoid them as seen fit. Yes, it's impossible, impractical, and terrible, but what's a world without a Zaratan equivalent?
Create Mundane Life (Ooze Crabs) - 2 AP. The ooze crabs are a side effect of Mekhet's intent, their progenitor being the Maruk with Yooo. They inhabit the Dream Ooze, helping the Maruk. With Mekhet's departure, enough were dragged along with it to enter the mortal realm, inhabiting the Ooze Rivers as scavengers. They are able to speak, but are about 2 feet tall and look like pink crystal crabs otherwise.
Adaptation (Ooze) -2 AP. The Maruk and Ooze Crabs are adapted to living with Ooze.
1/15 AP remaining.

[Arcran]

Artoran

Artoran grins. He was free! Free to walk! Free to kill! Free to do whatever the hell he pleased! Without bothering for a thanks Artoran flies forward, a primal roar echoing from his maw, intent on making it to the mortal realm. It had been too long.



Artoran soon reaches the edges of the material plane. As he nears it, axe in hand, a huge grin on his face. Then the burning starts.

He'd hardly listened to Kereth's warning about going down. He'd been too preoccupied with his souls fighting for all time and nearly salivating about what would happen soon. That's why he didn't expect to be spat back again. He didn't know what to do. It wasn't The Barrier, it was so much worse. He could get close, oh so close, almost able to taste the blood below, but no matter what he did he'd always be pushed back.

Still, Artoran wasn't the god of rage for no reason. Full of blind anger he rushes forward, skin peeling, flesh burning. He keeps pushing forward and, soon enough, Artoran is lying unconcious, his blood flowing freely through the planes.

And Artoran dreamed. Of war, of carnage, of slaughter and beautiful creatures of his own design. He never could have imagined the consequences of some idle dreaming.

[Darklady2831]

The Child

"Done," The Child says, looking at the great horde of savage Skizzik. "Let Artoran become your Blood-Father! Become strong! And take from the humans what is yours!"

And as the first piece falls into place, The Child laughed.


Skizzblight

After three days of travel through dark tunnels, much of which was downhill, The Child and Warlord Tharlock crossed into the Great Cave. Were it any other cave, it would have been unnoticeable to The Child's eyes in the dark. However, in the distance, the light of campfires could be seen, and the faint light of luminescent fungus bathed the enormous cavern in a dim green glow. "Welcome, Child of the Blood-Father, to Skizzblight! Here is our birthplace, our home. These caves are ours alone, by right of birth and conquest! We will be in Lepros soon, so I must warn-tell you of the other War-Clans." Warlord Tharlock motioned for The Child to sit on a ledge nearby, and he sat too.


Aleru took a moment to think before stating her point. "I didn't say they were worthless, but rather humans are worth more. Perhaps we can work out a way where they can both thrive. How about you can make them able to live off of human waste as well as their dead. The insects live and the humans don't suffer."

Naer'Va looked angry, very angry. "Fool, fool, fool! By the rot of death you will pay for your arrogance!" Naer'Va took a deep breath, exhaling a swarm of angry insects. The insects hovered in the air near the Vermin Queen. "For your arrogance, your children will suffer. But I will show the mercy you did not afford my sons and daughters. Your children have three years. When that time is done, they must annually sacrifice one ninth of their harvest, and two dozen livestock. They will leave these things to rot in a pit below a raised altar. There, my children will feast, and leave your children alone... but should the humans fail to deliver the sacrifice... my children will rise up and punish them for your arrogance..." As she spoke, the swarm flew off towards the human lands. A single insect landed on each adult human, and bit them once before flying off. The bite left the knowledge of Ritual Sacrifice, and the knowledge of why Naer'Va had chosen to punish them so.

8 AP - 1 AP = 7 AP
1 AP Create Lesser Concept: Ritual Sacrifice - The act of killing other living beings at altars dedicated to wrathful gods. Ritual Sacrifice is an attempt to appease Gods who have been offended. Naer'Va always respects this practice, and true to her word, Vermin will not infest the lands of those who sacrifice crops and livestock in her name.

[Arcran]

The Child

The Child sat easily on the ledge, weapons clattering as he does so. He'd spent some time trying to make some weapons out of the bits of bones that littered the tunnels and he'd been doing a pretty good job of it. A few spears, a nice club. Nothing fancy, just some basic weapons.

"Alright, tell me about these 'War-Clans,' Tharlock," he says, handing the Skrizzik a dagger made of bone.

"Now how far from the human lands is this Lepros?" he asks.

And, at images of Skizzik storming over the human lands, The Child laughs.

[Darklady2831]

The Child

The Child sat easily on the ledge, weapons clattering as he does so. He'd spent some time trying to make some weapons out of the bits of bones that littered the tunnels and he'd been doing a pretty good job of it. A few spears, a nice club. Nothing fancy, just some basic weapons.

"Alright, tell me about these 'War-Clans,' Tharlock," he says, handing the Skrizzik a dagger made of bone.

"Now how far from the human lands is this Lepros?" he asks.

And, at images of Skizzik storming over the human lands, The Child laughs.

Tharlock tilts his head, squints one eye, and thinks for a moment. "How far are the Goblin lands from Human lands?" He asks. "Lepros is three days further than that." Warlord Tharlock takes the dagger, checking its weighting by tilting it up and down in his hands. "This is very good, you must learn-teach us how to make them." He grins at The Child's laughter, and then adds his own to the mix. A strange, high pitched yipping. It echoes through the Great Cave, then quiets as Tharlock calms. "The War-Clans are the three Largest tribes of Skizziks. I am leader of Clan Typhos. We are the largest clan, by a small margin... my rivals, Warlord Skart and Warlord Mikz, rule Clan Munga and Clan Dryre respectively. Together, our three War-Clans rule Lepros and the Skizziks race. While it may seem peaceful, it is not... the cravens of Munga and Dryre plot at every turn to overthrow my people and each other." Tharlock spits off the ledge. "But I am the true ruler of Skizzblight. I am the only Skizzik to be born from the womb of our Brood-Mother herself. I am most mighty-strong! And now that we have your help, I can force Clan Dryre and Munga to heel. But I won't destroy them, no... too much death of our own people means that we won't be strong to kill others..." Tharlock looks at The Child. "If you help me bring Clan Typhos to rule, I pledge the Skizziks to whatever war you wish. By the breath of the Brood-Mother Naer'Va, I will lead an army of Skizziks up into the caves above the caves above, and slaughter for the Glory of the Blood-Father Artoran!"

[Toxic Mind]

The Wraith could not believe his fortune. Oh he had been lucky, a few dreamers here and there, but this. This was beyond anything in his wildest dreams. A Sleeping God. The Wraith had seen the fires in the sky, and assumed it would be something interesting to watch, but when he saw the body of the god floating in the sky, its spark elsewhere, the Wraith jumped at the opportunity. How could it not. To be mortal again was one thing, but to be a god?

The Court of Sparks

When Artoran appeared in the Court, no one was more surprised, or angry, than Kereth. The War god arrived, and in an instant, two Autons lay in pieces on the ground, their metallic life snuffed out by Drinker. Kereth was appalled. All that work, that guidance, for nothing? As Aleru rose, drawing her sword, Kereth waved her away. "No. This one is my folly. My mistake, and my repentance will be to deal with him once and for all." Kereth walked down the stairs from his chair, fury written in every step and every word. "I free you, and this is how you repay me? By intruding on our home, threatening our guests, and slaying our creations. I thought you not beyond reason, for all your faults. I see I was wrong. Now you will pay." Kereth's staff is a blur, and the lantern in his other hand pulses menacingly. "Lightbringer! Artoran cries, raising his axe. "You will not put me back. I have fought you before, and now I will slay you for good!"

Kereth stops, puzzled. Artoran, for all his insults, has never referred to him as Lightbringer. Only one people had ever done that, and they were all in the Soul Fields. Many of the Souls who met him in the Fields called him Lightbringer, which would mean...

Kereth raises his lantern, and Light streaks out from it. A light to illuminate darkness, to reveal what was hidden. And there it was. Behind Artoran's eyes, the light illuminates a creature of shadow. Its hands are talons, and they sink deeply into the god's flesh. Malevolence burns in its eyes. "Wraith." Kereth spat. "So this is what became of those who turned from the Path. Release him, creature. I will not warn you again." The Wraith that is Artoran howls through the god's body, raising his axe. "I WILL SNUFF OUT YOUR CURSED LIGHT FOREVER! Artoran's body runs at Kereth, the axe raised high. He swings, and the air itself parts before the god-forged blade. Kereth raises his lantern, a pitiful attempt to stop the mighty blow... and the axe bounces back. The Lantern's Light presses out, stopping the blow in its entirety. Surprise registers on the Wraith-Artoran's face, and in that moment of confused hesitation, Kereth is on him.

The axe is slow and unwieldy, a tool for offense, not for defending oneself. The Wraith-Artoran tries in vain as the staff darts in and out, around its guard, smashing blows that would kill a mortal into the god. And every time it seems like Drinker might get in a strike, the Lantern is there, its light pushing back the axe. But Kereth stumbles, a piece of an Auton catching under his foot. Drinker raises to strike the death blow, and Kereth drops his weapons. His hands engulf in a nimbus of light, and he smashes his fists into the chest of the god, through his flesh, and grabs the creature inside. Kereth rips the malevolent being out, holding it writhing in his grasp as Artoran's once again empty body crashes heavily to the ground. "To the Void with you" Kereth says as he stares into the eyes of the Wraith. His hands glow, brighter and brighter, and the Wraith vanishes in the nova of Light. When the light fades, Kereth stands alone. He slowly picks up his staff and Lantern, and walks unsteadily back to his seat.

"Once again, forgive the interruption, Lord Nester." Kereth says, his voice weary. "Autons, return the war god's body to where it came from. I expect he will need it soon enough." Kereth opens a portal, and two Autons throw the body through unceremoniously. "Back to buisness, then." Kereth finishes.


Got Permission from Arcan for this little beauty. Hence no permanent damage to anyone.

[Arcran]

The Child

The Child simply laughs. He'd already promised his support to Tharlock.

"Let me make you weapons. Challenge the two to a duel for leadership, in the way of your Blood Lord. With my weapons and your strength, well," he says as he draws a finger across his throat. "Nobody would dare to question you again."

And The Child laughed.

[Darklady2831]

The Child

The Child simply laughs. He'd already promised his support to Tharlock.

"Let me make you weapons. Challenge the two to a duel for leadership, in the way of your Blood Lord. With my weapons and your strength, well," he says as he draws a finger across his throat. "Nobody would dare to question you again."

And The Child laughed.

Tharlock shook his head. "It is the right of those who rule to run away and fight another day. It has always been so. If I challenge them, they don't even lose respect for refusing." He frowns. "No. I must lead my War-Clan into the heart of their territory in Lepros, and kill the Warlords. Then whoever succeeds them will know not to trifle with me."

[Arcran]

The Child

"Wait until they sleep. The sleeping cannot run, correct? When they cannot escape you steal in, slaughter them. You lose less men, er, Skizzik and you become the Warlord. And I will lead the vanguard," he says with a smug grin.

"Do we have a deal?"

And as The Child extends a bloody hand he laughs.

[Darklady2831]

The Child

"Wait until they sleep. The sleeping cannot run, correct? When they cannot escape you steal in, slaughter them. You lose less men, er, Skizzik and you become the Warlord. And I will lead the vanguard," he says with a smug grin.

"Do we have a deal?"

And as The Child extends a bloody hand he laughs.

Warlord Tharlock grins wide. "I like you." He grasps The Child's extended hand. "We have a deal." Standing, he pulled The Child to his feet. "Now, to Lepros. My people will want you to teach them how to make weapons as good as this blade." He says, holding up the dagger The Child had given him.

[Arcran]

The Child

"And I am eager to teach. Lead the way," he says, marveling at the size of the cave and wondering how many thousands of these rats must live here.

And, again, The Child laughs.

[Darklady2831]

The 'Free' City of Lepros

The Child had been ushered into the North-Western part of the City quietly. Rumors spread quickly that an outsider was visiting Warlord Tharlock, and assassins came in the night. Of course, being members of Clan Dryre, they weren't particularly well prepared to face the Champion of the Bloody God. The Morning after his arrival, Tharlock entered the Luxurious (for a Skizzik) chamber he had given to The Child. Seeing the dead Dryre assassins, he laughed. "Had a busy night, did you? I hope you're hungry, because we've got a feast of Meltmoss, Nightmold, and Goblin Thigh. Trust me, it's the best part of the Goblin." Tharlock grinned at the Child, the pale torchlight inside the cave giving him a menacing look. Several Skizziks followed the Warlord, carrying wooden plates piled with fungus, moss, and meat.

Sitting down at the table nearby, Tharlock motioned for the Child to sit. "I wish for us to strike at Clan Dryre swift-quick. They are the most paranoid. If they catch a whiff of our plot-plans, they're likely to flee Lepros. So if you can learn-teach my people to make weapons quickly, then we can kill Warlord Mikz quickly." Tharlock laughs again, the same high pitched yipping. Though this time, the laugh is a bit deeper, and more drawn out. "And who knows, maybe Skart will learn his lesson without me killing him if Mikz dies quickly."

[Arcran]

The Child

The Child was glad for the gift of food; he found the Skizzik a bit too stringy for his liking. Nothing like nice, sweet, fatty, human flesh...

The Child quickly wipes the line of saliva off the corner of his lip as he tears into his food. The goblin wasn't bad, he supposed, but he could have gone without the rest. He wasn't one to eat vegetables.

"Then watch and learn," The Child says, dropping a collection of sharp stones and bones on the ground as well as sticks.

He shows the Skizzik how to carve the wood to give the spearhead a place to rest. He shows them how to bind the spears together so they don't fall apart. He shows them how a simple bone could become a deadly weapon with a pointy rock on the end. The Skizzik already had the basics of weapons with their fragile spears and they learned quickly. He even took the time to teach them some basic spearfighting. The Skizzik were fast, that was obvious, but were they as fast as a spear in the right hands?

Soon The Child had a small squad outfitted with spears and bone daggers, giving Tharlock himself a massive club The Child had fabricated himself. The force was far cry from an army, but it would serve the proper purpose. What they required was to strike fast and hard and make an example of Mikz. Remembering that last part he hastily makes one last spear, holding it out to Tharlock.

"For Mikz's head," he says, a twisted grin on his face.

And The Child laughed.

Sharing the Lesser Concept of Weapons with the Tharlock's War-Clan!

[Eshkigal]

Maruk
For some time, Mekhet swirls and separates, it's rings splitting away from one another and seeking something new to look at. Something fun, something interesting, something...
Huh. That place has an interesting feeling. The other rings stop existing as Mekhet forgets them, the rings rolling and swirling through the city's streets and bouncing above children and humans, scaring and terrifying them for they knew not what new calamity befell their city, pierced through their defenses like chaff. But they were boring, Mekhet didn't know why everyone kept giving them all the attention when they did so little for themselves compared to what was below or in the seas. So much more interesting there, for the plots they stir up and the ideas they seek out, but that's not what drew Mekhet. No, that honor belongs to another goddess, the one who just cursed humans. The one whose aura tastes like the Ooze Dragon's, but different enough to have its own putrescent taste that feels strange on the cog, but just feels so right for what she is! It says...what is her name, anyway? Wait, what are names? Ah, no matter, one would be made soon enough, but for now, it was time to discover new things! Mekhet's many rings leap into the air from the roads and buildings they have rolled and bounced upon with no rhyme or reason, and begin landing one after the other in the air above them as a whirling dervish.
"What is this? I see...kin, kin is the word, right? I see kin before me!"
Its parts begin splitting again, bouncing and spinning around Naer'Va as roiling things that should not be try and rise out of the cogs, pressing against the spinning to better look at their sister before being pressed away for metals, curiosity, happiness, stone, and extensive numbers of limbs.
"What's your name? What do you call yours? I want to know, need to know, please tell me, oh please!"
Ew, the others smell like rules...

[MichaelGoldclaw]

While it was a deal made out of distate, it was a deal nonetheless, but in the uncontrolled arguing, she had seem to had shed a spark of divinity. She looked at it as it started to form "Who are you."

[Darklady2831]

The Child

The Child was glad for the gift of food; he found the Skizzik a bit too stringy for his liking. Nothing like nice, sweet, fatty, human flesh...

The Child quickly wipes the line of saliva off the corner of his lip as he tears into his food. The goblin wasn't bad, he supposed, but he could have gone without the rest. He wasn't one to eat vegetables.

"Then watch and learn," The Child says, dropping a collection of sharp stones and bones on the ground as well as sticks.

He shows the Skizzik how to carve the wood to give the spearhead a place to rest. He shows them how to bind the spears together so they don't fall apart. He shows them how a simple bone could become a deadly weapon with a pointy rock on the end. The Skizzik already had the basics of weapons with their fragile spears and they learned quickly. He even took the time to teach them some basic spearfighting. The Skizzik were fast, that was obvious, but were they as fast as a spear in the right hands?

Soon The Child had a small squad outfitted with spears and bone daggers, giving Tharlock himself a massive club The Child had fabricated himself. The force was far cry from an army, but it would serve the proper purpose. What they required was to strike fast and hard and make an example of Mikz. Remembering that last part he hastily makes one last spear, holding it out to Tharlock.

"For Mikz's head," he says, a twisted grin on his face.

And The Child laughed.

Sharing the Lesser Concept of Weapons with the Tharlock's War-Clan!

Tharlock grinned, his teeth showing. He gripped the club, checking its weight. "Perfect." He said, taking the spear and strapping it to his back. "May the Brood-Mother and the Blood-Father smile upon us tonight!" he shouts to the assembled squad. He had hand picked them from the least cowardly of his Clan. Their weapons sharp and sturdy, the assembled Skizziks yelled in agreement, and the group set out from Tharlock's Warren.


Mikz's Fortress

Silently, the group approached the fortress of Warlord Mikz. It had been childsplay to sneak past the guards posted throughout Lepros. Half of them were too busy plotting to overthrow their commanders to pay attention, and half of the rest were more than willing to look the other way for a few scraps of food and a new loincloth. Mikz had always been an arrogant rat. His fortress, unlike the Warrens of Clan Munga and Clan Typhos, rose high above the City of Lepros. A ramshackle amalgamation of Stone blocks and Cavewood planks, it looked like it could fall over at any moment. Tharlock motioned with his tail, and seven of the three dozen Skizziks crept forward. They stood still for a moment, waiting for a patrol on the walls to pass. Then they darted forward, leaping at the wall and digging their claws into the soft wood. Climbing swiftly, they rolled onto the battlements, and charged the nearby Patrol. Before they could raise the alarm, the Typhos warriors had impaled them on their new spears.

Tharlock watched from the ground, and as he saw a Dryre Skizzik's corpse flung from the battlements, he leaped forward, charging towards the wall. His warriors began climbing immediately. Tharlock himself glanced back at The Child. "Get on my back, we're climbing." He said, digging one of his claws into the soft wood. "Hurry, while we have the element of surprise."


Maruk
For some time, Mekhet swirls and separates, it's rings splitting away from one another and seeking something new to look at. Something fun, something interesting, something...
Huh. That place has an interesting feeling. The other rings stop existing as Mekhet forgets them, the rings rolling and swirling through the city's streets and bouncing above children and humans, scaring and terrifying them for they knew not what new calamity befell their city, pierced through their defenses like chaff. But they were boring, Mekhet didn't know why everyone kept giving them all the attention when they did so little for themselves compared to what was below or in the seas. So much more interesting there, for the plots they stir up and the ideas they seek out, but that's not what drew Mekhet. No, that honor belongs to another goddess, the one who just cursed humans. The one whose aura tastes like the Ooze Dragon's, but different enough to have its own putrescent taste that feels strange on the cog, but just feels so right for what she is! It says...what is her name, anyway? Wait, what are names? Ah, no matter, one would be made soon enough, but for now, it was time to discover new things! Mekhet's many rings leap into the air from the roads and buildings they have rolled and bounced upon with no rhyme or reason, and begin landing one after the other in the air above them as a whirling dervish.
"What is this? I see...kin, kin is the word, right? I see kin before me!"
Its parts begin splitting again, bouncing and spinning around Naer'Va as roiling things that should not be try and rise out of the cogs, pressing against the spinning to better look at their sister before being pressed away for metals, curiosity, happiness, stone, and extensive numbers of limbs.
"What's your name? What do you call yours? I want to know, need to know, please tell me, oh please!"
Ew, the others smell like rules...


While it was a deal made out of distate, it was a deal nonetheless, but in the uncontrolled arguing, she had seem to had shed a spark of divinity. She looked at it as it started to form "Who are you."

Naer'Va turned to leave Aleru, after delivering her warning, only to be stopped by... bouncing? She stepped back, watching the bouncing being. She sensed a familiarity in it. She looked confused, she was born in the warm dark, alone and filthy. How could she be kin? "I am... I am Naer'Va, Lady of Leprosy." She reached out to touch Mekhet, and froze when she did. "How can you be? Who are you? Where did you come from?"

[Dorian Gray]

The Volcano

"Fire is something I already have. But you could have gotten a story anywhere, I suppose, so I cannot fault you. But there is something I wish to show you, free of any strings."

The Aurora shapes itself, a massive painting against the sky. In it, a man runs crazed through a town, flinging lit torches at houses. But he is breathless, and his feet slow step by step. He tears towards the town hall, but stumbles and falls, and men surround and bind him. He screams as he is brought down, but lacks any strength to resist.

"That is what you are. Believe me, if you continue on this path, that fate will befall you- you will become irrelevant and I personally will see to it that no stories are ever told of you."

The images change again. This time, a man, tall and handsome, strolls into the town, strumming a lute and singing. The people flock to him, looking with adoring eyes at the traveler. He sits in an inn, and half the village comes in to fling coins and drinks at him. As the night wears on, he catches the eye of some maiden, and the two depart into the night. The next morning, the traveler strides out of the town, carrying a sack of money next to his lute case.

"But you are this, also. You have a strange duality in yourself, the capacity for futile destruction or magnificent creation. Inflame, instead of destroying. Place fire into the hearts of men, rather than limiting yourself to mere wood."

With this, Illium turns and walks off into the forest, colors slowly draining away as he departs. Just as the trees are almost gone, a voice floats to Faines. "Follow if you dare!"

[Arcran]

The Child

The Child had climbed walls before and had the scars on his fingers to prove it. With a quick breath his Father's rage builds within him and, without hardly breaking a sweat, The Child jambs his fingers into the wall, making his own handholds. Galvastia had been stone. Wooden walls would prove no challenge.

"I have my own claws," he says with a smirk, throwing himself up the wall, using his fingers to make handholds when there are none.

And The Child laughed. Quietly.

[FlyingCheseCake]

It had seemed like such a good idea at the time. That was three long weeks ago.

Dominated by the clans as the Skizzik are, the lines blur quite a bit the lower in the social hierarchy one finds oneself. Life is brief and brutal, and if you're lucky so is your death. Clan doesn't mean much when you find yourself deep in Skizzblight, running as fast as you can just to stay ahead of the half-mad and fully-starved band of Skizzik that's decided you're on the menu for today. The Skizzik Flitz was rescued from this very predicament by an idea that hit like a ton of rocks. Literally.

He was lucky it hadn't hit him too.

As he turned yet another corner in the warrens of the very deepest and darkest section of Skizzblight, the constantly nearing yipping of his pursuers was cut off by a tremendous rumble and crash. Flitz spared the time to glance over his shoulder, and then slowed his headlong pace to a stop to turn around and study the obviously divine occurrence. Not more than a dozen feet behind him the pack of raving Skizzik that had been hounding him had been crushed by a rockfall.

Flitz fell to his shaking knees and immediately began to thank Naer'Va for reaching out and saving his furry...

Thump

Flitz yipped in surprise and rubbed his head where a smallish rock had just bounced off of. His confusion was redoubled when he heard a voice from above:

"What're you doing down there, stupid-idiot?"

Looking up, Flitz could just make out a pair of eyes glowing in the gloom, "Who are you calling stupid-idiot?" he complained.

"You, stupid-idiot. Me thinks you must be stupid-idiot to be alone here."

Now that the walls were no longer blurs as he ran by, Flitz finally noticed a roughened section of wall where he could scurry up towards the other voice. Shakily, still winded from his dash for survival, Flitz made it up to what turned out to be a largish ledge that ran along the pathway below. He finally clearly saw the Skizzik that he had been yelling with, but quickly ignored him for what he was standing besides.

Along the edge of the ledge were a few large chunks of rock, obviously roughly hewned from the wall the ledge was a part of. Under each was a length of the dried fungal trees the Skizzik use in what can graciously be called "construction." The other Skizzik studied Flitz, or more prescisely, he studied Flitz's curiosity. After a few moments he moved to one of the rocks.

"Watch-learn," he said, and then lifted the stiff fungus. As he did, the rock, which was obviously larger than a single Skizzik should have been able to move, rolled off the ledge and fell to the path below with a crash. Flitz didn't know why the fungus allowed the Skizzik to do what it shouldn't have been able to, but he recognized cleverness when he saw it.

The other Skizzik studied Flitz once more, and then turned towards an opening in the rock face, gesturing that Flitz should follow. Through countless turns, rises, and declines Flitz followed the strange Skizzik through the warrens of Skizzblight. Finally they arrived at a largish habitat carved from the rock. Something about the walls struck Flitz as strange, but it was some time before it finally occurred to him what it was: no teeth marks.

The living space was filled with several hundred Skizzik, and a quick glance at their tattered clothing, talismans, and tatoos revealed that they were from most if not all of the clans. That so many could occupy such a space and not instantly brawl...something truly different was happening here. At the center of the mass was a lone Skizzik standing upon a block of stone, speaking to the others. He appeared to be twice as old as Flitz, which was its own sort of miracle; Flitz was surprised he himself had lived as long as he did. As far as he knew, he had outlived every other of his littermates.

"...hear the Gobos make shiny harder-rock from rock..." It was hard to hear exactly what was being said over the small noises of hundreds of Skizzik in a tight area, but it obviously had them equal parts excited and agitated. As Flitz was about to push himself closer to better hear what the speaker had to say a number of new Skizzik burst into the space in obvious panic. In a few moments everything was in motion, all of the Skizzik hastily making their way towards the exit.

The Skizzik that had brought Flitz here grabbed him by the elbow and pulled him along.

"We must leave now." At Flitz's obvious confusion he pulled Flitz aside, out of the flow of others leaving. "Warlord Tharlok has brought a new creature to Lepros, a 'hume-min', to teach his warriors better way to hurt-kill. He will attack the other clans; has attacked. At least one Warlord is dead, and others will die too. I think you are not so very important to your clan, being alone so deep." Flitz acknowledged as much. "You and I, Skizzik like us, we die first in fight-chaos. Clan doesn't matter if clan doesn't care. So we leave. You stay or follow. Choose."

That was three weeks ago. It had seem like a good idea at the time.

The others had been right; if war fell upon Lepros Skizzik like Flitz would have been rounded up by more important clanners and forced into battle to sacrifice themselves for others. So they left.

Flitz had no idea if anyone knew where they were going. They just kept moving further down tunnels that never seen the touch of Skizzik. Somehow they kept themselves fed by foraging what growths of mold they could find. And they took turns leading the group, a position that killed more than a few given the unknown tunnels. All were exhausted and few spoke, so Flitz still had no real idea what held such a disparate and desperate group together.

Into the middle of the third week Flitz found himself as the day's guiding Skizzit. He was not happy. He had already barely escaped falling down a pit when the ledge beneath him had suddenly gave way. A last minute change of balance was all that had let him leap to safety. He was tired. He was hungry. And he must be going crazy, because he was starting to miss the warrens of Skizzblight. In fact, he must already be crazy, because the tunnel ahead of him was starting to glow red as he trudged forward and around the bend...

Into a massive open cavern, a large lake of magma pooled in the center of it. A number of other caves led off from the cavern at all angles and heights, some even on the ceiling and leading straight upward. The other Skizzik piled in behind Flitz, who had stopped mid-step. The cavern was big enough for all of them, and more, and so they decided to at least rest here for a while, basking in the heat of the liquid rock.

Flitz kept looking at the tunnels leading up through the ceiling of the cavern; he obviously was beyond crazy, regardless what the others said, because he could swear that a different light was playing out from them, a lighter hue than that thrown off by the magma. And if he listened hard enough over the sounds of the other Skizzik, he could swear that there was something there, something that sounded almost like...

"Skkkrrreeeeeeee..."

[Queen Sapes]

The piece of divinity that Aleru had shed burned brightly before her, crystalline energies and eternal fires mixing and swirling together as the spark grasped at power and consciousness. The divine spark shrunk to the size of a heart, distorting almost into the appearance of one, as a body began forming around it. The crystalline energy shaped into the bone of a human male, building a skeleton of perfect crystals. Liquid rivers of gold, silver, copper, and other trace materials flowed out of the spark and over the bones, supplying the fledgling being flesh. Finally, an otherworldly fire burned over the flesh, sealing the man away inside a skin shell. As the embers of the fire fell away, they left the new god in a simple yet elegant attire, a cloak falling over his shoulders. A single band of wood clasped itself around the second digit of his right hand, completing the process. He ran his right hand through his silver hair, which shimmered as he did so, and opened his eyes for the first time, taking in a deep breath. And he saw everything.

The world was a constant swirl of incredible possibilities before him. He saw everything in that moment, and it all disappeared just as quickly before him. He saw the likelihood a tree branch would snap at that given moment, the possibility it would knock a farmer in the head, and the probability that the farmer would father an extremely influential clan by meeting a certain woman only while in recovery. And just as fast as he glimpsed the numbers, they disappeared into smoke, replaced with new and ever more fascinating paths. It was chaos, pure unadulterated chaos, and yet there was a beautiful order and sense to it. There was a reason to the madness. It was balanced. Good happened here, bad happened there in return. Logic flowed in that spot, nonsense in the stream next to it. Balance was never so beautiful before.

"Thank you for this," his mouth hanging open a crack as his eyes darted around, completely consumed by the wonder of the world. After a moment the young god came to his senses and shook his head to return to himself, turning around to the one he knew created him. "I am Heramaes, the Lord of..." he said with a pause as he searched for the right word. "Luck," he said, almost as a realization. "And I cannot thank you enough for this, mother. The gift these eyes received can never be repaid. I hereby pledge my loyalty to you in any matter, if you will take it. Call upon me at any moment, and I shall serve you willingly, in order to pay a debt that I cannot fulfill."

[Eshkigal]

As its sister touches Mekhet, it swirls around her, before warping again and bonding into a spinning pillar of gears and cogs of all the things under the burning ball.
"Dreams birthed me! The Great Ooze Dragon dreams, sleeping in its realm. From accidents there I was borne, and now I am me! But...what is that?"
The cogs slow, then stop for a moment.
"I...must limit myself, that is the nature of this world. So my limitation is Mekhet. Mekhet, the Whirling Chaos."
The wheels pick up again, and it begins moving rapidly about its sister, like an excited child, it's one voice becoming ten, a hundred, a thousand...
"But come now, come now, I see you love to create, I see your soul thrive with life big and small! What interesting things you make, indeed! Would you show me, sister? Please?"
While it begs to see the things its sister has created, it wonders. How shall it do away with that pesky limitation of one name? Maybe something would come to it in time...then it spies a dead locust, and abandons that train of thought as a myriad selection of wheels examine it with eyes of all things alive, yet to be, and never to come.
"...Sister, why isn't this moving?"

[Toxic Mind]

The Soul Fields

Kereth was thinking of the souls, as he often did. He walked with Keth, firstborn of the Wayfinders, but more, a trusted friend. "Where do the memories go?" he asks no one in particular. "Lord Kereth?" Keth asks as they walk. "Forgive me, Keth, I think aloud." Kereth smiles at his companion. "Perhaps I could help?" Keth offers. "Very well. My Lantern cleanses all souls who pass into the fields of their mortal lives and memories. I wondered where those memories go. Are they destroyed, or are they saved somewhere?"

Such is the nature of things with gods, that often issues do not even exist, nor their solutions, until a god thinks of the problem. So it was that the memories of mortals began accumulating. And soon enough, they began to take shape. Thousands of souls, with billions of memories, and all constantly bathed in the divine light of the Lantern. How could they not become something more?

It was one day, as Kereth walked among the Fields, that suddenly, another walked beside him. This one was clad in black armor, hooded, with a strange tome by his side. But Kereth felt no threat, no surprise. That this being was here seemed as natural to him as anything else that occurred in the Fields. After all, this was his world. "What is your name, stranger?" Kereth says cordially. But it is clear. "Mirmulnir. To think I would not recognize my own son. I am Kereth, and you are born of my spark. Welcome." Kereth shakes his head. "Then you are the memories. I knew they had to be going somewhere. Well, my son, since you are so suited to them, and they to you, you will be their keeper. You are my son, but you are not beholden to me. Should you not wish this task, you need only say so. You are a god, and free to make your own way." Kereth stops, and turns to look at the other god, sizing him up. "When souls pass, their memories will pass to you, for your safekeeping. I ask only that Illium, your brother, be allowed to peruse them at his leisure. I suspect he will find their stories interesting." Kereth holds out his hand, and a book appears in it. "Here. The first book of memories for your collection." Even as Kereth hands the book over, the pages fill with stories. "Now, you must have questions. Speak up."

[Xunthrae]

Moro'Sahj

In his youth Moro'sahj heard rumors of a race of people living on the surface. They were described of being seemingly intelligent, though no one was for sure on that, and they had no scales. Moro never dismissed these rumors like many of his fellow Merfolk. His guess was that they used to be beasts that lived on land, but were altered by the Cursed Moon.

Moro'Sahj sent his swiftest scouts to the surface to satisfy his curiosity. They went with their mako sharks as guides and protectors. After several weeks of travel, the scouts finally find a small ocean side village. The merfolk watch from the waters as the humans go about their business.

To the merfolk, Humans were indeed strange creatures. The rumors were true. The scouts were suprised that they did indeed have no scales. They looked to have skin like a dolphin, but less smooth. And it was covered in hair, like a seal, but not enough to cover their bodies completely.

While the merfolk watched the land-dwellers, they were startled by a large platform of wood floating on the surface, and in reaction one of the scouts thrust out a hand and a boiling spout of water hit the man fishing on it. The scream was heard by the village. Many eyes looks out to see, only to see the fish like tails of the merfolk disappearing down into the depths.

The scouts reported what they saw to Moro'Sahj, though they left out that they harmed one in hopes to prevent any punishment that may follow.



Mersahj was leery of the formed groups of her kin. She was fearful that their predilection for order and law would interfere with the whims of her and the sea. She focuses her mind, and she sends out a call to her fellow gods of Chaos and Nature. "I ask each of you to join with me and be like the great whales of the sea. All who join may rely on each other for defense against the incursion of those who will attack us. "


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[Eshkigal]

Galavasta
A few of Mekhet's many rings slip away to seek out the curious ringing it felt. It was odd, like something before the Progenitor called...

Mersahj
The first to reach you is a shard of one you had not seen before. Trailing discs, cogs, gears, these shifting in nature to crude fleshy imitation of you for a split second before turning into things best left never thought of fly through the air, seeking something out before spotting you, plunging into the water and churning it as they move about you.
"More interesting ones? A lucky day, a momentous day! More who seek to make the world interestinginterestingINTERESTING! Did you like what I made in the waters on the other side of the world? I could ask Maruk to come here if you haven't seen yet."
It swims up to you, strange pseudopods probing the waters nearby.
"Hm...What's this I taste, feel, devour, smell, hear, see?"
It gasps in true awe.
"You're the maker of the Ooze Dragon! Maker of the Maker! What's your name?"
It leaps up and encircles you, apparently in a hug.

(Not joining unless you make it sound very fun to do so, since some aspect of chaos should be allowed to work against itself and all others.)

[ThePhantom]

The Volcano

Faines stands on his volcano, his scarves slowly down and fading in brightness. A bringer of fires, or a bringer of music, eh? Burning mere wood?

"You know so little about me." Faines lets his hand fall, and brushes it on a sharp piece of obsidian, letting it cut his finger. From the cut comes a small spurt of flames before His scarves gently wrap the wound. "Fire is my blood and it will not be denied. There is no changing that. After all, fire has a dual nature; it warms things, singing to them, and it also consume them, making music out of them. You will see that truth, in the end. But as of now, I'll see where you travel."

Faines straightens himself, and heads into the trees of the illusion.

[Darklady2831]

The Child

The Child had climbed walls before and had the scars on his fingers to prove it. With a quick breath his Father's rage builds within him and, without hardly breaking a sweat, The Child jambs his fingers into the wall, making his own handholds. Galvastia had been stone. Wooden walls would prove no challenge.

"I have my own claws," he says with a smirk, throwing himself up the wall, using his fingers to make handholds when there are none.

And The Child laughed. Quietly.


Assault on Mikz's Fortress

Tharlock followed The Child up, reaching the top just as he did. Once on the walls, he motioned to several warriors, who headed towards the back of the fort along the wall. "Mikz will be at the top of the fortress... we climb!" And Tharlock leaped at the wall, clinging to it and climbing the sheer surface. Two dozen Skizziks followed him, as did The Child. When they reached the top, chaos ensued.

Nearly a hundred Skizziks of Clan Dryre waited atop the fortress. They brandished chipped and jagged bones, pitiful weapons in comparison to those The Child had made. Seeing Tharlock, the Skizziks charged. Held above the horde, on a throne of cavewood, was Warlord Mikz. He screeched, thrusting his 'weapon' wildly in the air towards Tharlock. "KILLKILLKILLKILLKILL! Fight-kill Tharlock for me minions! Fight-kill the Biggie and the Pinkie!" And then nearly a hundred Skizziks surged forth to do battle with The Child, Tharlock, and the warriors of Clan Typhos.

Tharlock fell upon the horde in a frenzy. His club swung in long arcs, beating aside Skizzik after Skizzik. Those who were not killed outright by the bone-shattering blows were thrown into the air and occasionally over the edge to the City below. "For the Brood-Mother! For the Blood-Father!" Tharlock screamed, and his warriors joined the fray, fighting with a fervor not matched by most of their kind.


As its sister touches Mekhet, it swirls around her, before warping again and bonding into a spinning pillar of gears and cogs of all the things under the burning ball.
"Dreams birthed me! The Great Ooze Dragon dreams, sleeping in its realm. From accidents there I was borne, and now I am me! But...what is that?"
The cogs slow, then stop for a moment.
"I...must limit myself, that is the nature of this world. So my limitation is Mekhet. Mekhet, the Whirling Chaos."
The wheels pick up again, and it begins moving rapidly about its sister, like an excited child, it's one voice becoming ten, a hundred, a thousand...
"But come now, come now, I see you love to create, I see your soul thrive with life big and small! What interesting things you make, indeed! Would you show me, sister? Please?"
While it begs to see the things its sister has created, it wonders. How shall it do away with that pesky limitation of one name? Maybe something would come to it in time...then it spies a dead locust, and abandons that train of thought as a myriad selection of wheels examine it with eyes of all things alive, yet to be, and never to come.
"...Sister, why isn't this moving?"


Not alone?

"Dreams..." Naer'Va said slowly, then looked up to the Sky. So that is where she had come from. She looked back to the hyper-active gathering of gears and eyes and mouths and 'things'. "Love?" she asked quietly, then nodded. "I care for my children, yes. I am their mother." She watched as Mekhet came upon the dead locust. She smiles at it, stooping down to pick it up. Gently, she strokes the lifeless husk. "This little one is dead, its struggle is at an end." She gently places it back down on the ground. "You are my... kin? Who is the Great Ooze Dragon?"


Moro'Sahj

In his youth Moro'sahj heard rumors of a race of people living on the surface. They were described of being seemingly intelligent, though no one was for sure on that, and they had no scales. Moro never dismissed these rumors like many of his fellow Merfolk. His guess was that they used to be beasts that lived on land, but were altered by the Cursed Moon.

Moro'Sahj sent his swiftest scouts to the surface to satisfy his curiosity. They went with their mako sharks as guides and protectors. After several weeks of travel, the scouts finally find a small ocean side village. The merfolk watch from the waters as the humans go about their business.

To the merfolk, Humans were indeed strange creatures. The rumors were true. The scouts were suprised that they did indeed have no scales. They looked to have skin like a dolphin, but less smooth. And it was covered in hair, like a seal, but not enough to cover their bodies completely.

While the merfolk watched the land-dwellers, they were startled by a large platform of wood floating on the surface, and in reaction one of the scouts thrust out a hand and a boiling spout of water hit the man fishing on it. The scream was heard by the village. Many eyes looks out to see, only to see the fish like tails of the merfolk disappearing down into the depths.

The scouts reported what they saw to Moro'Sahj, though they left out that they harmed one in hopes to prevent any punishment that may follow.



Mersahj was leery of the formed groups of her kin. She was fearful that their predilection for order and law would interfere with the whims of her and the sea. She focuses her mind, and she sends out a call to her fellow gods of Chaos and Nature. "I ask each of you to join with me and be like the great whales of the sea. All who join may rely on each other for defense against the incursion of those who will attack us. "


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Not Alone.

Naer'Va's consciousness splintered for the first time. She shuddered as a subconscious part of herself heard Mersahj's call and reached out. As Mekhet arrived, a lone flea leaped off of his body, and then another. And another, and another until there was a buzzing swarm of insects hovering nearby. The swarm coalesced into a humanoid shape, and then took on the form of a naked human woman. Her hair was held back by a loop of golden thread, and two long needles. She looked at Mersahj, and blinked."You speak of... symbiosis?" Naer'Va knew the concept well. Many insects relied on other animals in symbiotic or parasitic relationships.

[Arcran]

The Child

Some warriors dance. Some whirl through the battlefield, never being touched, their blades marking a swift death for those that feel their sting.

The Child bulls. He rushes forward, no regard for his own safety. Such is the lot of a regenerating monster that feels no pain. Those unfortunate to get in his way don't remain their for long, The Child's heavy club quite literally eviscerating the Skizzik foolish enough to get in the way of his freakish strength. Some of the attacks of the foe actually slip past his al-out offensive, only to shatter against The Child's iron-like scars. Soon he's lost in the horde, the only indication of his presence coming from the screams of Skizzik and occasional clouds of pink mist.

Then a pattern to the carnage begins to emerge.

Then a path.

A path that went right from Tharlock to poor, defenseless little Mikz.

And The Child laughed.

[Eshkigal]

The Meeting of Siblings
"I see you want to make more, so much more. Creating life, seeing what they do with it...that is fun! So very fun! But this..."
It looks at the dead bodies of locusts, noting death further on.
"This is strange...Dull. Their drives cannot be sated yet, no! I wonder what happens next? I wonder if I can let the restless live again as my own. But no, not yet, now, to the Ooze!"
Discs slide under Naer'Va, forming a solid within its normally open hoop, and shoots off, away from the city, skimming rivers of ooze where the crystal crabs have begun their work, crawling to the shores to grab small rocks and make burrows that won't erode away with the ooze's touch. They wave to their accidental maker as rings orbit them, smaller than a fly, before joining back in, and Mekhet makes his way to the Ooze Volcano, doing an excited flip with gravity turned off for his rider before plunging in. However, Mekhet isn't necessarily watching where he's going...

[Eldamar]

“Mirmulnir.” Yes, that name was correct. Pausing besides his progenitor, the hooded god inclines his head to accept his first book of his collection. Holding the tome aloft in a gauntleted hand, he flips through it slowly, reading the lives of the first mortals to be created and perish. A nasty tale.

Raising his head, the armored god gazes upon his father’s realm and finds it lacking. A dull, boring plane when compared to the world as told through the book. The first desire to walk that mortal realm creeps into his being, a desire to expand his understanding of not only mortals but all of creation. But something else creeps into his mind, a lust to impose his will upon this world.

“I wish to leave. To this mortal plane.” His voice faint, almost muffled, and solemn toned.

[Umbranar]

At Galvastia

Where they had all been coming from, Rhanor did not know. There was talk about dreams and ooze dragons and apparently kinship between the chaotic gear god and the Lady of Leprosy. Naer'Va had demanded a annual sacrifice of food and livestock to her children and Aleru had agreed to this. Rhanor`s book floats to his hands while the massive hammer appears sheathed on his back. A compromise has been made between the Lady of Leprosy and the Lady Aleru. If you both do not object I would like to record this deal. Breaking this arrangement should be tied to a punishment. The precise wording of the deal is this: "On this day and for all years to come, the Humans of Galvastia will bring an annual offering of one-ninth of their harvest and two dozen livestock to this place for the insects, the children of the Lady of Leprosy, to devour. The insects will not devour the human crops and live solely on human waste and their dead." If you agree we determine a proper punishment for breaking this deal. I suggest the following: The one that breaks this deal will have their mortal children banished from this lands, leaving it available for the other to do as she pleases.

Waiting for a reply, Rhanor looks at Heramaes and nods. Welcome to existence cousin Heramaes. I am Rhanor the Eternal Judge. Son to Domi the Lawbringer who is brother to your mother, Lady Aleru.

[Queen Sapes]

Galvastia
"A lineage of law and order. Quite the family to be born into..." Heramaes mumbles to himself after hearing Rhanor's introduction. He turns to Rhanor to address him, giving his mother time to think over his oath. "Thank you cousin, I'm very happy to make your acquaintance," Heramaes says warmly, extending a hand. "You seem rather knowledgeable about this world. Perhaps while my mother is considering this offer, you could speak to be about the other important families. And why you are brokering, and my mother considering, a deal of this nature."

[Darklady2831]

The Child

Some warriors dance. Some whirl through the battlefield, never being touched, their blades marking a swift death for those that feel their sting.

The Child bulls. He rushes forward, no regard for his own safety. Such is the lot of a regenerating monster that feels no pain. Those unfortunate to get in his way don't remain their for long, The Child's heavy club quite literally eviscerating the Skizzik foolish enough to get in the way of his freakish strength. Some of the attacks of the foe actually slip past his al-out offensive, only to shatter against The Child's iron-like scars. Soon he's lost in the horde, the only indication of his presence coming from the screams of Skizzik and occasional clouds of pink mist.

Then a pattern to the carnage begins to emerge.

Then a path.

A path that went right from Tharlock to poor, defenseless little Mikz.

And The Child laughed.


Blood for the Blood God, Skulls for the Skull Throne

Tharlock surged forward, his club crushing the ribcage of the only Dryre Skizzik foolish enough to remain between him and Mikz. He placed his foot on the head of the dying warrior, and pushed off with force. Soaring through the air, Tharlock discarded his club and grabbed his spear. Mikz screeched in terror, scrambling to get off of his throne. The Warlord of Clan Typhos smashed into the platform with great force. Splinters of cavewood flew about as Tharlock tackled Mikz to the floor. With one foot on Mikz's chest, Tharlock bellowed a war cry, and thrust the Spear down into Mikz's chest. With a high pitched cry, Mikz spasmed, before going limp. The Warlord of Clan Typhos twisted the spear inside his foe's chest, and then tore it out, sending gore flying. Those Skizziks of Dryre who were nearby turned to flee, their tails curling up between their legs. "Blood for the Blood-Father!" Tharlock roared, shoving the spear upwards through Mikz's head. With a sickening crunch, Tharlock twisted the former Warlord's head from his neck, and tore it from his body.

Grinning with pleasure, he thrust the gore soaked pike into the air. "Victory for the Vermin Queen!" He shouted, and his warriors, all but two who had fallen to overwhelming numbers, surged past with renewed vigor. The fleeing Dryre Skizziks screamed in terror as they were pursued. Many fell to their deaths in fruitless attempts to jump away from the relentless warriors. Clan Dryre's Warlord had fallen.


The Meeting of Siblings
"I see you want to make more, so much more. Creating life, seeing what they do with it...that is fun! So very fun! But this..."
It looks at the dead bodies of locusts, noting death further on.
"This is strange...Dull. Their drives cannot be sated yet, no! I wonder what happens next? I wonder if I can let the restless live again as my own. But no, not yet, now, to the Ooze!"
Discs slide under Naer'Va, forming a solid within its normally open hoop, and shoots off, away from the city, skimming rivers of ooze where the crystal crabs have begun their work, crawling to the shores to grab small rocks and make burrows that won't erode away with the ooze's touch. They wave to their accidental maker as rings orbit them, smaller than a fly, before joining back in, and Mekhet makes his way to the Ooze Volcano, doing an excited flip with gravity turned off for his rider before plunging in. However, Mekhet isn't necessarily watching where he's going...

Naer'Va is scooped up by her sibling, and is ferried off to a land of ooze and goo. She tumbled as her sibling flipped and loop-de-looped through the air and the ooze. At first, she was confused. How did this help one survive? What purpose did it fulfill? As she pondered, she thought. As she thought, she contemplated. She thought on the words of Aleru, the 'souls' that she had mentioned. If certain beings did in fact have greater awareness than others, then what happened to that awareness when their struggle was over? What purpose could the intelligence find without struggle? As she pondered solutions to these problems, her concentration was shaken. With a great heave, she slammed against the inside of the sphere that was her sibling. They had crashed.

[Toxic Mind]

“I wish to leave. To this mortal plane.” His voice faint, almost muffled, and solemn toned.

"Then go, my son. Make your way upon this world. Should you need my guidance, you need only ask, and it will come." Kereth turns away and continues his walk.

[Xunthrae]

Naer'Va's consciousness splintered for the first time. She shuddered as a subconscious part of herself heard Mersahj's call and reached out. As Mekhet arrived, a lone flea leaped off of his body, and then another. And another, and another until there was a buzzing swarm of insects hovering nearby. The swarm coalesced into a humanoid shape, and then took on the form of a naked human woman. Her hair was held back by a loop of golden thread, and two long needles. She looked at Mersahj, and blinked."You speak of... symbiosis?" Naer'Va knew the concept well. Many insects relied on other animals in symbiotic or parasitic relationships.


Galavasta
A few of Mekhet's many rings slip away to seek out the curious ringing it felt. It was odd, like something before the Progenitor called...

Mersahj
The first to reach you is a shard of one you had not seen before. Trailing discs, cogs, gears, these shifting in nature to crude fleshy imitation of you for a split second before turning into things best left never thought of fly through the air, seeking something out before spotting you, plunging into the water and churning it as they move about you.
"More interesting ones? A lucky day, a momentous day! More who seek to make the world interestinginterestingINTERESTING! Did you like what I made in the waters on the other side of the world? I could ask Maruk to come here if you haven't seen yet."
It swims up to you, strange pseudopods probing the waters nearby.
"Hm...What's this I taste, feel, devour, smell, hear, see?"
It gasps in true awe.
"You're the maker of the Ooze Dragon! Maker of the Maker! What's your name?"
It leaps up and encircles you, apparently in a hug.

(Not joining unless you make it sound very fun to do so, since some aspect of chaos should be allowed to work against itself and all others.)

~Mersahj~

She first looks to Mekhet, not bothered by the hug, but she does not return it. "I have indeed seen your creation. It is a wonder of creation, like my leviathan." She smiles down at her grand-progeny. "I am Mersahj, The Coral Queen, Storm Mother. Firstborn of the world and ruler of the seas." She turns her head to Naer'Va. "I do speak of that. What I want is for us to band together and not limit each other, as well as to protect each other from those who would interfere. It would be an alliance of sorts. Each would contribute aid to those apart when they ask, when its in defense from someone without." She looks at both of them now. "Will you join me?"

[Eshkigal]

The Meeting of the Interesting
"Would that mean I could not interfere with those in it? Because I have a lot of work to do to this world before I begin spinning my own, and it's not always going to be good for the races involved."

[Xunthrae]

"The god them self may have a problem with it, but that is not a threat to us and our way. The rest will not interfere unless they want to interfere. Do as you like to another in the group and the consequences will play out naturally or good or for ill. "

[Darklady2831]

~Mersahj~

She first looks to Mekhet, not bothered by the hug, but she does not return it. "I have indeed seen your creation. It is a wonder of creation, like my leviathan." She smiles down at her grand-progeny. "I am Mersahj, The Coral Queen, Storm Mother. Firstborn of the world and ruler of the seas." She turns her head to Naer'Va. "I do speak of that. What I want is for us to band together and not limit each other, as well as to protect each other from those who would interfere. It would be an alliance of sorts. Each would contribute aid to those apart when they ask, when its in defense from someone without." She looks at both of them now. "Will you join me?"

Naer'Va nods, reaching out with her essence to join with her Grand-Mother. "Just as the crafty Anglerfish uses bacteria to light up its lure and draw in prey, so does the bacteria use the Anglerfish as a home and breeding ground. I will join with you, Grand-Mother." Her essence mingles with that of the pantheon, and the bond is formed.

7 AP - 1 AP = 6 AP
1 AP Join Pantheon

[Arcran]

The Child

The Child twists his hammer out of the chest of an unfortunate Skizzik, grinning at Tharlock.

"So what are you now? Grand-Warlord? Warking? Lord of the Skizzik?" The Child asks, absentmindedly flinging a shard of stone at a fleeing Dryre. "Will the others surrender to you or do we need to make another visit tonight?"

The Child glanced at the Skizzik he had targeted. The blade had caught it in the spine, sending it into violent spasms, the Skizzik shrieking for somebody to grant it mercy.

As it died screaming, The Child laughed.


Artoran

Even in the land of dreams Artoran found himself bleeding. He felt out of place here, each step squishing below his weight. It was as if he was both here and not here at the same time. The warriors fly around him, hideous creatures to all but him, slashing and tearing at one another. Out of nowhere the Blood God feels a burning pain in his chest, only for it to pass a fraction of a second later. He felt his chest, his hand quickly becoming drenched in his own blood. And still the beautifully hideous warriors flew around him, blades tearing the clothes from one another piece by piece.

Artoran did not know how long he watched the macabre dance. It wasn't until he saw strangers on the plane that he took note of anything besides the perfect images he was experiencing. He instinctively reached for Drinker, but it was not there. Still, he felt himself almost dragged, as if against his will, towards these two, giving his perfect dream a sad look as it faded away in the distance.

Soon he found himself near who he may someday recognize as Mekhat and Naer'Va. He reaches out to touch Naer'Va, quickly withdrawing his hand as she didn't compress quite like the ooze.

"Are you real?" the Lord of War snarls, "Or another trick?"

[Eldamar]

Mirmulnir sweeps a gauntleted hand before him and dips his head in deference to his forerunner as the kindly old man walks off to tend to the souls of the departed. With his first tome of memory in hand, Mirmulnir marches towards the edge of the Soul Fields to stand upon the precipice of the realm of the dead to gaze at the world. A vast realm to explore and much to learn. He thinks to himself, pondering where to go. The sea came first. Why not begin there?

Leaping from the edge of the sky, the black-armored and hooded god created a new shape for himself, something alien yet familiar, a great beast of monstrous size, an armored Kraken. Of a similar size to Mershaj’s Leviathans, the great squid possessed great plates of toughened hide covering its great head and the dorsal of his four largest tentacles.

Hitting the water head-first, the great beast dived deep, fading into the blackness as the light of the sun and stars were choked by the crushing weight of the water. Primordial was the term, and it fit perfectly down deep in the black. But there were creatures down here, twisted beings made in mockery of their former selves. The creatures interested him, a race of abominations with the bodies of amalgamations of various fish.

The Kraken settles upon the seafloor, tentacles splayed to leave his head vertical, a great pillar of flesh on the sea floor to study the creatures of the deep through titanic eyes aglow with silver light.

[mystic1110]

Below the Ooze



The Realm of Dreams
As Mekhet swam through the Great Yooo for hours, it noticed something. Yooo had no companion, nothing that could be on par with it. And that just won't do, because singularity is dull, boring, IhateithateitHATEITHATEIT! As Mekhet pondered what to do about that, five of its then million rings expanded, crossing and merging paths as they changed. The first became Iron, sizzling in the maker and losing cohesion, forming a strange goop separate from the Ooze Dragon itself. The second became crystals, shattering and breaking apart as Mekhet's body struck it, forming a carapace around the goop of pink crystals in a shape remniscent of a crab, save for the fact that it dwarfed the mountain Yooo had slept upon before. The third and fourth brought the Concepts of Loyalty and Patience, which flowed into the great bestial monster that stood lifeless above its future master, combining into Love for the Great Ooze Dragon. The last one, the one that makes all things, was the raw spark of Life, flowing deeply into the crystal crab and giving it life. Mekhet watched it rise, and move, before looking down at Yooo and nuzzling next to him, a companion large enough for him to notice with ease and long lived enough that it may well live to the end of days with the Great Ooze Dragon, so he could always have a friend. Satisfied with its first creation, who began sprouting smaller versions of itself, Mekhet burst back out of the dream realm, stirring the ooze in a mad froth as it bursts out of the volcano, carrying some of the new sapient species with it. One clings to a ring that Mekhet decides to keep constant for now, carrying it as it zooms across the world, watching and...wait, that's it? There's only two continents, six fairly active sapient mortal species (well, seven now), and two landmasses? Unacceptable! So he flies into an unclaimed portion of the world, and lets the ring held by the crystal crab man empower it, grow it. Within moments, it grew so big it landed in the ocean with a tremendous splash, a tidal wave hitting both the other continents, before rising back out on its six spindly legs, tall enough to stand above the depths, bigger than any race that came before it, so big it could count as its own landmass. From there, Mekhet began flinging dirt, minerals, sand, water, ooze, all these things from himself, to make the first living continent, before settling upon it and rolling about, its myriad cogs, gears, and wheels making holes across the lands to better work its next trick. And thus did it define himself again-rather than seek destruction, creation was far more fun, since then everything else responds to it!
"Now, what do I name you...How about Maruk?"
And thus, did the first children of Mekhet come to be named.


AP: 11/15
Create Fabled Life (Maruk) - 4 AP. Mekhet's first creation, these are giant crabs made of pink crystal, copious amounts of Yooo's ooze, and a lot of chaos magic. They are sustained by the chaotic magic of Mekhet, and there are only two of them, and there shall only ever be two. One is roughly 5 miles wide, and stands watch over Yooo, the other is closer to the size of Europe and is the base of Mekhet's living continent, feeding off the ambient magic and ooze of the world. Be thankful they don't like moving much. Which brings me to my next bit.
Create Land (Continent) - 2 AP. Mekhet has set up a continent upon the back of his giant crab monster, so it may move about, discover other lands, accidentally threaten other lands, or avoid them as seen fit. Yes, it's impossible, impractical, and terrible, but what's a world without a Zaratan equivalent?
Create Mundane Life (Ooze Crabs) - 2 AP. The ooze crabs are a side effect of Mekhet's intent, their progenitor being the Maruk with Yooo. They inhabit the Dream Ooze, helping the Maruk. With Mekhet's departure, enough were dragged along with it to enter the mortal realm, inhabiting the Ooze Rivers as scavengers. They are able to speak, but are about 2 feet tall and look like pink crystal crabs otherwise.
Adaptation (Ooze) -2 AP. The Maruk and Ooze Crabs are adapted to living with Ooze.
1/15 AP remaining.


Yooo slept beneath the Ooze. And while he dreamed the entirety of the Elemental Plane of Dream itself - Mekhet's creation and subsequent infestation of Yooo's insides, went unnoticed by the Dream Dragon. It simply didn't register due to the scale of size. . .

But this is a problem easily solved - one simply has to think bigger. And the Maruk truly did think bigger. The Dream Dragon did notice the Maruk that nuzzled next to him. The creature was almost as large as him - if you would compare the two side by side it would have been like comparing a child to an adult. But, that is a comparison that Yooo could make. No longer was he confronted with a creature that was to him, insignificant. Outside his encounters with the Gods - tiny creatures that were not tiny - which were confusing encounters at best, this was literately the first creature that Yooo saw and recognized as another existence.

What did he think about this other existence. . . truthfully? It was fear. Not to say that Yooo was xenophobic, but when you are in your own mind the only being of consequence, and you are confronted with another. . . yes, there is joy. Yes, their is relief. But there is also that chasm of panic.

Yooo looked upon the creature. . . and coiled it's slimy body around it. It held its life in it's hands. . . it could end this creature's existence with but a thought. . . but Yooo thought back to the words of Kereth, and the rules of Morality, and Yooo let go of the creature. He was still afraid. . . but he was happy. The creature nuzzled up to him again, and Yooo nuzzled back.

Overtime fear would dissipate.

One would home.

Mr. Oozeman, bring me a dream, Make her the cutest that I've ever seen. . .




Artoran

Artoran grins. He was free! Free to walk! Free to kill! Free to do whatever the hell he pleased! Without bothering for a thanks Artoran flies forward, a primal roar echoing from his maw, intent on making it to the mortal realm. It had been too long.



Artoran soon reaches the edges of the material plane. As he nears it, axe in hand, a huge grin on his face. Then the burning starts.

He'd hardly listened to Kereth's warning about going down. He'd been too preoccupied with his souls fighting for all time and nearly salivating about what would happen soon. That's why he didn't expect to be spat back again. He didn't know what to do. It wasn't The Barrier, it was so much worse. He could get close, oh so close, almost able to taste the blood below, but no matter what he did he'd always be pushed back.

Still, Artoran wasn't the god of rage for no reason. Full of blind anger he rushes forward, skin peeling, flesh burning. He keeps pushing forward and, soon enough, Artoran is lying unconcious, his blood flowing freely through the planes.

And Artoran dreamed. Of war, of carnage, of slaughter and beautiful creatures of his own design. He never could have imagined the consequences of some idle dreaming.

While Artoran dreamed, he dreamed a world of violence and sex. Warriors made of blades formed out of the Ooze, and fought each other before him. Women made of Swords made love to each other. Yet, Artoran moved forward, moving out of dream and back in. The God was lucid dreaming, but the dream fought back. The Blood God was cut by his own dream and his blood trickled down through the Ooze below. The Blood was filtered by the slime, until it became the very essence of the War God.

The essence of the War God was born by the currents to where the Great Dream Dragon slumbered in embrace with the Maruk. The Essence of the War God, filtered by Ooze, was filtered yet further as it merged with the Lord of Magic, the Essence solidifying into a new deity.

The new deity was as far removed from the Ooze as possible. It took the form of female perfection - not any type of physical perfection - but all the types of perfection, all at once at the same time, but only once. It was the very existence of beauty. A like a new born babe it appeared naked and covered in slime as it floated to the surface. Once there the new born goddess rose still nude, the Ooze dripping off her. As she straightened, the Ooze took the form of the most regal and extravagant of fashion - the slime on her head hardening and becoming a white mask with only two holes for her eyes. Her eyes were yet closed, but when opened they shared the color of black and green like the Ooze from which she came - but mixed with the red of War.

The Goddess emerged inside Artoran's dream. . . and as the God of War met the two sisters of the Ooze Dragon, the New Born Goddess joined her sisters and her father.

[Eshkigal]

The Dream Ooze Sea
For a moment, Mekhet struggles to pierce the ooze, wondering why it was difficult this time before Artoran stepped up, accidentally stepping upon a part of the chaos. Artoran feels a foot sink, and looking down sees a mouth open around it, strange sensory organs examining it, smelling him, tasting him, his essence, what he is and was before receding away. From within the other parts of the maddening, spinning thing, voices answer.
"Interesting, very interesting. Though you sleep, you are like us, but not spawned of the Great Ooze Dragon sleeping below. My sister is Naer'Va, Lady of Leprosy, I am defined as Mekhet, Whirling Chaos. But who are you, and more importantly, do you dream interesting dreams? Do you wish to see the Progenitor too?"

A Pantheon's Birth
Mekhet whirls, separating and pulling away from Merrshaj as it contemplates this.
"I believe there is too much waiting for me to see first to limit myself to one group quite yet. But if I find them boring and you not, then I shall join you, my family. Though right now we are near this odd smelling god in the Dream."
A ring flips up, sharing a far too close view of Artoran's face before moving back.
"Would you like to talk to him, too?"

[Arcran]

Artoran

"More interesting than idle ooze," Artoran mutters, kicking at the slime. He wanted his swordmaidens - well, perhaps they weren't maidends - swordwomen back.

Artoran knew none of these gods. It is hard to see a Child, no matter how hard they laugh, through hundreds of feet of stone or perhaps he would have know Naer'Va. The one talking was interesting, but the one that had just appeared...

It was a beautiful swordmaiden (and this one may truly be a maiden), just standing there. The others were gone but this one remained. He saw a bit of fight, his fight, in her. And he liked that. Artoran waves the others off, picking up his beautiful swordmaiden, the God of War as naked as always.

"And who are you?" he asks, marveling as his hands aren't cut.

Is it incest if you're a god? :smallyuk:

[Toxic Mind]

The Wraith did not know why it was not gone. It had been pulled from its host, born aloft by the hands of the god of Death, but it was only here, and not gone. The Wraith howled its fury. Was oblivion forever denied to it? Then it would make the gods pay, and they would rage, until one day one of them would destroy it.

That was when the Wraith felt it. A stirring of something more within itself. Artoran's fury, which had infected its' soul, even as it controlled the god's flesh. But more, Kereth's Light, his command of the dead, taken as the god poured Light into the Wraith, seeking its utter destruction. The former power had saved the Wraith, but the later had given it a spark of something more. Now it could feel the world as it never had before, and the Wraith knew it had become like the Lightbringer himself, a god. He reached out his hands, grasping at the world below him, seeking to snuff it out. For though it was now a god, none of the malevolence that had been its creation had left.

And just as it had done for centuries, the Wraith hid itself from the Light, seeking shadow and darkness. It would not reveal itself until it was ready, well and truly, to take its place among the gods, and show them the folly of their actions.


Zarchesh is born, though he doesn't have a name yet.

Stupid Wraiths, messing up everybody's day.

[FlyingCheseCake]

Three more long weeks. Flitz had thought he was crazy then, and may still may not be lucid now, but arguably life was better here than it was in Skizzblight. Although, he sometimes felt he was going to die from exhaustion.

Had to be a better way to go than being eaten, anyway.

Those first moments after the Skree had revealed themselves had been tense. At first there was only one of the strange creatures, and that had been bad enough. Then two floated down through tunnels in the ceiling, then a half dozen appeared out of a side passage. Eventually there were scores of things hovering around; a few had even risen out of the magma! Their blue light thoroughly washed out the red hue of the cavern, harsh upon the Skizzik eyes that were so used to near total darkness. And those things that moved about each one, they looked dangerous, and the constant sound they made set your teeth on edge.

"Skkkreeee..."

That's all they seemed to do, at first, just float there and make that obnoxious noise. It was one of the older Skizzik, the same one that Flitz had seen speaking at the center of the crowd when he was first pulled into this group of crazies. That old kook of a Skizzik was obviously nearsighted with age, squinting at the cavern about him to try to figure out what he was seeing. Suddenly his eyes shot wide open and he reached out towards one of the creatures...or rather, he reached for whatever floated about them.

"...harder-rock..." he muttered at first, and then he stumbled forwards with increasing speed, both arms now outstreatched before him. "Harder-rock!"

Flitz had no clue what the old Skizzik was rambling about, but apparently most of the others did. The words jolted through the crowd, all nervousness and hesitation forgotten; they all looked closely at the floating objects again, and then each started yelling wildly at their neighbors in excitement. That's when they spoke:

"Skkreee...YOU...KNOW OF...METAL...Skkreee..."

A single voice seemingly from the cavern itself boomed out at them, physically assaulting their sensitive ears. It was as if all of the creatures spoke at once, together; or one had spoken through all of them. Flitz wasn't sure, but he didn't even think the things themselves spoke, so much as used the floating items to make the noise of words. All of the Skizzik fell quiet again.

One of the items moving about the creature closest to the old Skizzik stopped its orbit and floated down until it was hovering before him. Tentatively he reached out and, seeing that it wouldn't be suddenly snatched back, began to almost caress the object. "We have heard. Never seen. Is it truly better than fungus-wood? Better than rock and bone and tooth and claw?"

A few brief moments passed, nothing being said as far as Flitz could discern. However, it was obvious the creatures had come to some sort of consensus, for all but three left the cavern by various routes.

The floating object returned to its stately flight about the creature, which started to slowly move towards a side passage.

"Skreee...FOLLOW....Skreee"

The Skizzik were led down a few short passages into another cavern, this one filled from end to end with fungus and moss. The starved travelers rushed forward and filled their bellies for the first time in weeks and longer, for some. Flitz couldn't remember the last time he had felt so satisfied.

Then the work began.

The group of Skizzik obviously already had a structure, a hierarchy of sorts, for a few began ordering the rest about. And they listened with a will that Flitz had never seen before. Usually Skizzik did what they were told out of fear or greed, but this was something different. A number began moving through the fungus, collecting the stalks to be dried into the common Skizzik building material. Most, including Flitz, were detailed into the adjoining caves to begin widening them and preparing them as living areas.

At first, Flitz had been upset by his assignment. He had managed to keep most of his teeth this far into life, which was the usual reason he believed let him survive for so long. The most common labor to be had in Skizzik was enlarging the cavern for the ever-growing population, and the only tool Skizzik used to do so were their own teeth.

He was confused, however, when instead of going right to the walls to begin gnawing, the others started picking up and inspecting rocks. Some were held on to, others were tossed aside. One of the others eventually explained to him that not all rocks were the same. Some were harder than others. They could use the harder rocks to wear away the wall rather than their teeth. The process was slower, as there were fewer hard rocks than there were Skizzik, and so they took turns working. But this meant they saved their teeth and their claws.

Another strangeness was the way the used the fungus-wood to build shelters. Usually it was just piled up and the Skizzik would dig into the pile to create a nest. These Skizziks, however, placed the pieces of fungus-wood next to each other in neat rows standing on end. They then rested another neat row along the top of them, using clever notches to hold them together. This construction was then rested against a wall, creating a single large shelter with a minimal amount of fungus-wood used. Flitz thought such a space would be too cold to nest in, but with enough Skizziks in each shelter heat wasn't an issue.

And so they lived in sturdy fungus-wood huts neatly raised side-by-by in caves carved not with tooth and claw, but with other rocks. These truly were strange Skizziks, but Flitz was beginning to appreciate their cleverness.


And all the while, the three blue orbs silently observed.

"Skreeeee..."

[Mynxae]

The Land of Aetherys

Upon his new land, Aetherys stretched as he woke up from a deep sleep. As he did so, he heard a call to join his strength with others, for protection or for potential justice and vengeance. He shrugged his shoulders as he stretched further and responded to the call with a slight grunt.
"I shall answer the call, Mersahj, and join to further my goals" stated Aetherys before he promptly cut the contact, a small amount of power leaving him as he did so.
"Furies, come" he said as he let loose a mental shout in all directions across his land. They heard the call and flew to him in a matter of moments, their powerful wings beating down to slow their descent as they fell to the earth.
"We answer the call, massssterrr" they hissed with their grotesque mouths which were covered in blood, most likely they were off hunting as they were called.
"Go to my Vrykin and gather the leaders of the tribes, we have work to do. Any of them who flee from you or decide they are too important to come meet their creator, kill them and get the one who volunteers in their place to replace them. You'll know how to find me" he growled as he stormed off onto the plains with a mysterious green light flickering through the sky above the land. They flew off in all directions to gather the leaders of the tribes of all Vrykin, which had spread across the land and vied for territory in their creator's absence.

Start AP: 4.

Join Pantheon AP1: Aetherys joins the Pantheon created by Mersahj, which is currently nameless.

End AP: 3.

[Darklady2831]

The Child

The Child twists his hammer out of the chest of an unfortunate Skizzik, grinning at Tharlock.

"So what are you now? Grand-Warlord? Warking? Lord of the Skizzik?" The Child asks, absentmindedly flinging a shard of stone at a fleeing Dryre. "Will the others surrender to you or do we need to make another visit tonight?"

The Child glanced at the Skizzik he had targeted. The blade had caught it in the spine, sending it into violent spasms, the Skizzik shrieking for somebody to grant it mercy.

As it died screaming, The Child laughed.

Death of a Warlord...

As the last survivors of the assault of Mikz's fortress were slain around them, Tharlock approached The Child, picking up his club. "I doubt we will need to make two examples. We will wait two days, if Skart has not sent an envoy by then, we will kill him. For now, let us prepare a true army." Tharlock grinned a toothy grin, and threw his head back as he cackled. The high pitched noise echoed across the City, and many hundreds of Skizziks stopped for a moment as fear gripped their hearts.

... Birth of an (Under)King

It had taken only one night for the Envoys of Clan Munga to arrive. Skart had sent a dozen weak Skizzik servants and a week's worth of his own food stores with two Skizzik Diplomats. Tharlock had greedily accepted the food. The servants he had sent away, he didn't need more mouths to feed. The Child meanwhile had been given every luxury at Tharlock's disposal, and every hour of the day (or at least he thought it was day. Without the sun, it was hard to tell), Skizziks came to him to hear what he had to say. Skizziks learned quickly, and within a week, there was a Caste of Craftsrats forming. All the while, Tharlock sent messages back and forth between the leaders of the multitude of smaller tribes that called Skizzblight home. He gave them the option of swearing fealty to Clan Typhos, or having their heads placed on a pike. Mikz had never left Tharlock's side. He had his craftsrats make him a primitive leather Jerkin, and he had the spear with Mikz's head incorporated into it. Now, wherever he went, a bloody banner was strapped to his back. Soon, the rat skull was made Tharlock's personal symbol, and he had his throne carved with the symbol on its back.

Two weeks after Mikz had fallen, Tharlock proclaimed himself King Under the Caves. He ordered a great temple be built out of stone blocks in the center of Lepros. Construction was slow, for the Skizziks had nought but their own teeth and claws. This notion of picking up and moving boulders was foreign to them. But there was no mound of stone in the center of Lepros, and Tharlock wanted the Temple to be made as a paragon of construction. When one of his lieutenants suggested they use cavewood to build it, Tharlock disemboweled him on the spot. The Underking grew angry and impatient. So he halted construction two weeks after it began, and diverted the resources of Skizzblight to war. And thus, on a day five weeks after Mikz fell, Underking Tharlock sent for The Child.



Artoran

Even in the land of dreams Artoran found himself bleeding. He felt out of place here, each step squishing below his weight. It was as if he was both here and not here at the same time. The warriors fly around him, hideous creatures to all but him, slashing and tearing at one another. Out of nowhere the Blood God feels a burning pain in his chest, only for it to pass a fraction of a second later. He felt his chest, his hand quickly becoming drenched in his own blood. And still the beautifully hideous warriors flew around him, blades tearing the clothes from one another piece by piece.

Artoran did not know how long he watched the macabre dance. It wasn't until he saw strangers on the plane that he took note of anything besides the perfect images he was experiencing. He instinctively reached for Drinker, but it was not there. Still, he felt himself almost dragged, as if against his will, towards these two, giving his perfect dream a sad look as it faded away in the distance.

Soon he found himself near who he may someday recognize as Mekhat and Naer'Va. He reaches out to touch Naer'Va, quickly withdrawing his hand as she didn't compress quite like the ooze.

"Are you real?" the Lord of War snarls, "Or another trick?"



Artoran

"More interesting than idle ooze," Artoran mutters, kicking at the slime. He wanted his swordmaidens - well, perhaps they weren't maidends - swordwomen back.

Artoran knew none of these gods. It is hard to see a Child, no matter how hard they laugh, through hundreds of feet of stone or perhaps he would have know Naer'Va. The one talking was interesting, but the one that had just appeared...

It was a beautiful swordmaiden (and this one may truly be a maiden), just standing there. The others were gone but this one remained. He saw a bit of fight, his fight, in her. And he liked that. Artoran waves the others off, picking up his beautiful swordmaiden, the God of War as naked as always.

"And who are you?" he asks, marveling as his hands aren't cut.

Is it incest if you're a god? :smallyuk:

"I am- and Naer'Va was cut off by Mekhet telling Artoran who she was. "Trick? Trap? No... I am disease, I am pestilence. I am the crawling beetle and the scurrying rat. I am Naer'Va. And this is Mekhet, my... sister?" Naer'Va looked at the new goddess that popped into existence. A filthy, rotted thing. She was a diseased figure, covered from head to toe with boils and sores that oozed blood and puss. Maggots, lice, and carrion beetles ate at her exposed flesh. Naer'Va could not imagine a more perfect sight. "And that is..." She blinked, sensing the familiar divine spark. "My... sister?" she said, confused.

[MichaelGoldclaw]

At Galvastia

Where they had all been coming from, Rhanor did not know. There was talk about dreams and ooze dragons and apparently kinship between the chaotic gear god and the Lady of Leprosy. Naer'Va had demanded a annual sacrifice of food and livestock to her children and Aleru had agreed to this. Rhanor`s book floats to his hands while the massive hammer appears sheathed on his back. A compromise has been made between the Lady of Leprosy and the Lady Aleru. If you both do not object I would like to record this deal. Breaking this arrangement should be tied to a punishment. The precise wording of the deal is this: "On this day and for all years to come, the Humans of Galvastia will bring an annual offering of one-ninth of their harvest and two dozen livestock to this place for the insects, the children of the Lady of Leprosy, to devour. The insects will not devour the human crops and live solely on human waste and their dead." If you agree we determine a proper punishment for breaking this deal. I suggest the following: The one that breaks this deal will have their mortal children banished from this lands, leaving it available for the other to do as she pleases.

Waiting for a reply, Rhanor looks at Heramaes and nods. Welcome to existence cousin Heramaes. I am Rhanor the Eternal Judge. Son to Domi the Lawbringer who is brother to your mother, Lady Aleru.

"Seems reasonable. You have a Knight's word on this."

[ThePhantom]

A Pantheon's Birth

As Faines heads off after the god of stories, a call echos across the ether, a call for an alliance against the other gods, those who would limit them. And with a twist of his scarves, a copy of himself is sent off. After a moment, the scarves wearing god appears to Mekhet, Mersahj, and Naer'Va, scarves briefly flutter close to these goddess, the flames at the ends giving off a gentle red glow.

"Now, what was this about...Woah!" Faines and his scarves flinch back from Mersahj, the flame fading to a pale yellow. The ocean, in all but two conditions, always triumph over flames, and therefore, Faines finds the Coral Queen quite intimidating.

[Arcran]

The Child

As the Skizzik came to The Child he taught them what he knew. He taught each one about weapons, helping each to craft their own before they returned to whatever duties they may have. He taught them about Aleru the Traitor, Aleru the Trickster, Aleru the Whore of the Gods who had used vile charms to trick the host of gods into raising hand against the Blood-Father. He taught them how Aleru stabbed Artoran in the back when he looked away, how she banished him among the stars. He teaches the Skizzik about Aetherys, the Lord of Nature who stood beside Artoran in his time of need, leaping to his aid with tooth and fang. Most importantly, he teaches the Skizzik about Artoran, the Blood-Father. He teaches them of his way in battle, how Artoran is in the heart of all who seek to battle their foes. He teaches them of how those who allow Artoran to guide them will forever find a fight, even in death. He teaches them the way of eating your foes in order to gain their strength. He teaches them of humans, the foul pink, fragile creatures that scurry across the surface. He teaches them of their treacherous, filthy ways and goes to great lengths to explain their cowardice. For days he does not laugh, so intent is he on teaching the Skizzik of the ways of the world and the gods above. And, finally, he tells them of a wonderful gem, a beautiful gem. It was lost to him now, but he would regain it soon.

By the time the now Underking Tharlock called for The Child he had taught all he had sought to and came eagerly, coming into the Underking's presence with a light skip in his step.

And The Child laughed again.

The victors first ones there write the history. :smalltongue:


Artoran

"No!" Artoran shouts with a great booming laugh. "She is my bride!" he says, holding his goddess aloft.

"And welcome to you Mekhat and Vaer'Ha," he booms, the Blood-God in an abnormally boisterous mood. "What brings you to this wonderful land?"

Suddenly the ooze did not seem nearly as large of an issue.

[Eshkigal]

The Lands of Ooze and Dreams
Mekhet shuddered at the sight of its sister, for to the Chaos, she appeared as the Infinite, all things simultaneously and constantly, all moments simultaneously throughout time, in all possibilities.
"She smells of you too, though, your sparks intertwined somehow. Though perhaps that means you are made for each other? But I digress, we seek our progenitor, so Naer'Va can meet him, and I can see if he likes Maruk. Our Grandmother is also calling to the gods that seek to be safe from those that make the world boring. Are you both possibly interested?"

(Pantheon forming will be later)

[Arcran]

Artoran

"Who's starting it? Aetherys?" he asks, pondering. He imagined himself in that Field of Blood not-so-long ago. How differently could that have ended if more than Aetherys stood at his side in that conflict? How much more could have been accomplished?

He can't help but give a lopsided grin at Maruk's remark though. They were made for one another.

[Mynxae]

The Land of Aetherys

"Oh bother" Aetherys muttered to the air around him as he sent a shard of himself off to the meeting while continuing to march across the plains, gathering the energy from nature as it went. He may as well at least check who was joining.

Meeting of Mersahj

Aetherys appeared in a flash of emerald light. "Greetings everyone, I'm Aetherys" growled Aetherys with a hint of anger in his voice, remembering the last time there were other gods in his presence.

[Croverus]

The Watcher Watches

Attraxxii moves through the sky of the world, its eyes always observant as it witnesses the events unfolding on the world below. It feels the push of the mortal realm, and knows it can never set tentacle on it, though it enjoys its spot in the sky, looking down at the world as some look up at it. Its red light every hundred years has shaped the world and how creatures live. This is good, perhaps some day iy will change the light, just to see how the world reacts.

A Pantheon's Birth

Hearing a whisper Attraxxii's eyes turn to find who called to all, as it believed it was time to join with some of of its siblings. It does not actually appear where the gods are gathered but it's voice and the image of its central eye fills their mind as it speaks.

"ALL THESE GATHER TO FORM TOGETHER, AGAINST THOSE THAT WOULD PREVENT WORLD'S CHANGE;
STAGNATION BREATHES FROM MOUTHS OF MORTALS, AS THEY SHUN THE DIFFERENT AND STRANGE.
THIS ONE WOULD LISTEN TO WHAT IS PROPOSED, AND LEND AID WHEN IT IS NEEDED;
LET THIS WORLD NEVER STAY AS IT IS NOW, AN ALLIANCE SHOULD BE SEEDED."

[Eshkigal]

A moment slowly getting creepier
Mekhet had begun expanding again, its ever multiplying whirling gears sliding down, around, between, and upon the two gods of malevolence like a certain serpent upon a tree, dragging them closer to Mekhet and Naer'Va and each other. An eye grows to look at Artoran.
"Who? I do not know that name yet. No, I speak of Merrsahj, Mother Ocean, Grandmother of us three...well, I guess Sisters for the moment, though I see no reason to limit myself to mere genders. It works for this. Anyway, she worries about the dull gods. Afraid they'll strike at others, so she wants to ensure they cannot. While I wish to see what interesting things may happen before choosing, we offer you both a chance to join us. So would you? Will you?"
Tendrils extend towards Artoran and the new arrival.
"Shake and the deal is done, my friends, my kin."

[Arcran]

Artoran

As Atraxii appears in Artoran's mind he does not know quite what to do. He certainly agreed with the testament though. The more of them there were the more they could change mortals without fear.

Artoran frees a hand from his soon-to-be-bride to shake with Mekhet.

"A deal then! I'll repay you someday for your help in this endeavor. Next time they come at us father, they'll be the ones banished and broken," he says with a grin, imaging the revenge that may someday come. "Worked out a deal with Kereth to become unbanished as well. As long as I don't make humans my special pets I'm free to do as I will," he says, already making plans to circumvent that rule.

"But enough on that! I have found a bride father! The beautiful - what was your name again?"

Mekhet is paying my way into the Pantheon in return for a favor in the future.

[Darklady2831]

The Child

As the Skizzik came to The Child he taught them what he knew. He taught each one about weapons, helping each to craft their own before they returned to whatever duties they may have. He taught them about Aleru the Traitor, Aleru the Trickster, Aleru the Whore of the Gods who had used vile charms to trick the host of gods into raising hand against the Blood-Father. He taught them how Aleru stabbed Artoran in the back when he looked away, how she banished him among the stars. He teaches the Skizzik about Aetherys, the Lord of Nature who stood beside Artoran in his time of need, leaping to his aid with tooth and fang. Most importantly, he teaches the Skizzik about Artoran, the Blood-Father. He teaches them of his way in battle, how Artoran is in the heart of all who seek to battle their foes. He teaches them of how those who allow Artoran to guide them will forever find a fight, even in death. He teaches them the way of eating your foes in order to gain their strength. He teaches them of humans, the foul pink, fragile creatures that scurry across the surface. He teaches them of their treacherous, filthy ways and goes to great lengths to explain their cowardice. For days he does not laugh, so intent is he on teaching the Skizzik of the ways of the world and the gods above. And, finally, he tells them of a wonderful gem, a beautiful gem. It was lost to him now, but he would regain it soon.

By the time the now Underking Tharlock called for The Child he had taught all he had sought to and came eagerly, coming into the Underking's presence with a light skip in his step.

And The Child laughed again.

The victors first ones there write the history. :smalltongue:


A Champion's Reward

As The Child arrived in Tharlock's throne room, he noticed several changes. The cavewood throne had been replaced with a large slab of rock, chewed into the shape of a Throne the back of the Throne had a circle carved into it, and within the circle was a carved Rat Skull, the sigil of Tharlock. Tharlock was at a nearby table, crude drawings laid out on it. "One useful-good look-scout is all I ask!" He barked at a nearby Skizzik, who was holding a new type of weapon. A long flat bone, honed to a sharp edge, had been tied to the end of a spear-shaft. As The Child looked around, he noticed more of them, held by guards. Tharlock waved away the warrior he had yelled at, and began to speak to another nearby Skizzik. "How many Skizziks could this 'smooth-den' hold?" He asked the warrior. "A hundred, a hundred twenty?" he replied nervously. "Then look-find for them!" He yelled, before noticing The Child who was nearly a Man. "Ah, the ra- err, 'man', of the hour. Come, swift-quick! I have much to, err... 'thank', you for."



Artoran

"No!" Artoran shouts with a great booming laugh. "She is my bride!" he says, holding his goddess aloft.

"And welcome to you Mekhat and Vaer'Ha," he booms, the Blood-God in an abnormally boisterous mood. "What brings you to this wonderful land?"

Suddenly the ooze did not seem nearly as large of an issue.

"Bride?" Naer'Va says curiously. "What is a bride?"


The Lands of Ooze and Dreams
Mekhet shuddered at the sight of its sister, for to the Chaos, she appeared as the Infinite, all things simultaneously and constantly, all moments simultaneously throughout time, in all possibilities.
"She smells of you too, though, your sparks intertwined somehow. Though perhaps that means you are made for each other? But I digress, we seek our progenitor, so Naer'Va can meet him, and I can see if he likes Maruk. Our Grandmother is also calling to the gods that seek to be safe from those that make the world boring. Are you both possibly interested?"

(Pantheon forming will be later)

"They do not smell like a brood to me." Naer'Va said to Mekhet. "Is that why we're here?"



Artoran

"Who's starting it? Aetherys?" he asks, pondering. He imagined himself in that Field of Blood not-so-long ago. How differently could that have ended if more than Aetherys stood at his side in that conflict? How much more could have been accomplished?

He can't help but give a lopsided grin at Maruk's remark though. They were made for one another.

"What is an Aetherys?"


The Land of Aetherys

"Oh bother" Aetherys muttered to the air around him as he sent a shard of himself off to the meeting while continuing to march across the plains, gathering the energy from nature as it went. He may as well at least check who was joining.

Meeting of Mersahj

Aetherys appeared in a flash of emerald light. "Greetings everyone, I'm Aetherys" growled Aetherys with a hint of anger in his voice, remembering the last time there were other gods in his presence.

"Oh, not what. Who!" Naer'Va smiled, revealing yellowed teeth. "You smell of survival. This is natural, this is good." Naer'Va said, some of her skin peeling off and turning into insects. The insects flew over to Aetherys and began to crawl in his fur. "I am the scurrying rat and the crawling beetle. I am pestilence, I am Naer'Va." The Vermin Queen replied to Aetherys. "You are a pleasant scent. You are natural, you are good." She liked this god, even if he seemed angry. Nature was natural, nature was good.


The Watcher Watches

Attraxxii moves through the sky of the world, its eyes always observant as it witnesses the events unfolding on the world below. It feels the push of the mortal realm, and knows it can never set tentacle on it, though it enjoys its spot in the sky, looking down at the world as some look up at it. Its red light every hundred years has shaped the world and how creatures live. This is good, perhaps some day iy will change the light, just to see how the world reacts.

A Pantheon's Birth

Hearing a whisper Attraxxii's eyes turn to find who called to all, as it believed it was time to join with some of of its siblings. It does not actually appear where the gods are gathered but it's voice and the image of its central eye fills their mind as it speaks.

"ALL THESE GATHER TO FORM TOGETHER, AGAINST THOSE THAT WOULD PREVENT WORLD'S CHANGE;
STAGNATION BREATHES FROM MOUTHS OF MORTALS, AS THEY SHUN THE DIFFERENT AND STRANGE.
THIS ONE WOULD LISTEN TO WHAT IS PROPOSED, AND LEND AID WHEN IT IS NEEDED;
LET THIS WORLD NEVER STAY AS IT IS NOW, AN ALLIANCE SHOULD BE SEEDED."

Naer'Va shuddered subtly as Attraxxii spoke. This god was new, but he smelled of change, of monsters and of the void above the sky. This was natural? This was good. With change comes adaptation. With adaptation comes survival. This is natural, this is good. "I must agree with the Eye in the Sky. Stagnation must die for life to survive."

[Eshkigal]

Deals Struck
Tendrils lash around your hand, dragging you elbow deep into the ring where you then grasp a cold hand, gentle scales rubbing against calloused flesh as Artoran feels his power ebb a bit, only to be replaced by something not of his own spark, something mad and laughing with glee before his hand is returned. A gear gets very close, eyes mad with desire, need, mustbeinterestingmakeitinterestingdoitdoitnowDOIT. It whispers in his ear, in a voice remniscent of the day he was born, the gurgles of the first murder by a god playing like music to him in it.
"Consider this a bribe on top of your promise. Show my soon to be myriad peoples what you make, and if it's intriguing enough for my attentions I shall join the pantheon in a heartbeat."
The hand is released, and you find it whole and unharmed. Maybe a bit cleaner than before.

Meanwhile, the cog Naer'Va has been standing on looks up at her.
"I thought you would like to meet the Great Ooze Dragon, at any rate. He's deliciously squishy, you know."

Pantheon Making 101
More people, more gears fly to see, to do, to inspect! But the gear facing Merrsahj and showing what Mekhet saw elsewhere suddenly becomes a maw opening up, before a hand unmistakeably that of the Blood Father reaches out and takes Merrsahj's hand, shaking and sending his power to join the pantheon. it retracts shortly after, the blood being licked clean from it, returning to the Plane of Dream. Soon, it's only sign of ever having been there was the bloody handprint enveloping Merrsahj's hand.
"Another joins you, but I digress. Come now, fellow gods, what are your names?"


1/15
Paid 1 as part of a contract worked out with Arc elsewhere. Artoran is part of the Pantheon, but I effectively paid for him.
0/15

[Arcran]

The Child

The Child comes, making his way to Tharlock as he marvels at the new accommodations. Tharlock had moved up in the world in more ways than one it would seem. "Smooth-den? Looking for others? Now what in the world would you be doing that for?" he inquires, not concerned in the least. "Did somebody escape?"

"Don't worry about thanks. You've given me a people. You've given my Blood-Father honor and those that know his name. You have done all that you need to do," The Child says, wondering what Tharlock could give him.


Artoran

"A bride! A mate! They're for..." Artoran says, going into a rather long and detailed explanation of what exactly mates do with one another. Being born of a force of nature Artoran was well in touch with such matters.

Artoran hastily wipes his hand after the experience with Mekhet. The touch was uncomfortable but the whispers were promising.

"When I find my Child, he shall speak to your creations. Perhaps they may forge some sort of deal in due time," Artoran says with a large grin.

[Darklady2831]

The Child

The Child comes, making his way to Tharlock as he marvels at the new accommodations. Tharlock had moved up in the world in more ways than one it would seem. "Smooth-den? Looking for others? Now what in the world would you be doing that for?" he inquires, not concerned in the least. "Did somebody escape?"

"Don't worry about thanks. You've given me a people. You've given my Blood-Father honor and those that know his name. You have done all that you need to do," The Child says, wondering what Tharlock could give him.

"We can chat-squeak about that later." Tharlock said. "And what petty-selfish King-Under-the-Caves would I be if I didn't help-reward my friends?" Tharlock grinned. "We Skizziks have little you might want... but I will give you a token-symbol!" Tharlock held his hand out beside him and a Skizzik that was standing nearby with a small cavewood box ran up to him, handing the box to the Underking. "Take-loot it, and look-show it to any Skizziks you meet. They won't hinder-hurt you. It shows you are ally-friend to the King-Under-the-Caves."

After the Child took the box, Tharlock grinned, and motioned to the nearby table. Many drawing were laid out, detailing many large chambers with varying details. Some has great frescoes and mosaics, others had many long benches. One had Nine alcoves laid out in a circular pattern; One across from the entrance, four to the left of the entrance, and four to the right. "The Great Temple of Skizzblight! It will be a monument to the gods and the Skizziks! And you! You will have a statue in the antechamber, the room before the Grand-Altar!"



Artoran

"A bride! A mate! They're for..." Artoran says, going into a rather long and detailed explanation of what exactly mates do with one another. Being born of a force of nature Artoran was well in touch with such matters.

Artoran hastily wipes his hand after the experience with Mekhet. The touch was uncomfortable but the whispers were promising.

"When I find my Child, he shall speak to your creations. Perhaps they may forge some sort of deal in due time," Artoran says with a large grin.

Naer'Va nods, understanding. She tore off some of her skin, showing a multitude of insects crawling over each other beneath it. It was an orgy of insect sex, and quite revolting to most people. She was a part of nature, and was well acquainted with mating. "Bride is a strange word for mate..." she said. "I did not think the diseased and infested to be to your liking... I misjudged you." She smiles to Artoran.

[Shmee]

Can't think of a witty title.



Artoran

It was a beautiful swordmaiden (and this one may truly be a maiden), just standing there. The others were gone but this one remained. He saw a bit of fight, his fight, in her. And he liked that. Artoran waves the others off, picking up his beautiful swordmaiden, the God of War as naked as always.

"And who are you?" he asks, marveling as his hands aren't cut.

Is it incest if you're a god? :smallyuk:

None know what comes before that single moment when the spark of life forms consciousness and sentience. Yet the moment that her spark of life awakened within her, she opens her eyes and takes in the sights around her. The newly created goddess turns around and seeing the mighty lord of slaughter she blushes and smiles at her father "So forward to approach the Lady of Lust in the buff." Giving Artoran a once over, very slowly, biting her lower lip. "I think I like your approach." From behind her mask a twinkle hits the goddess' eye can be detected. Unlike everyone else who were naked, she wore an elegant yet provocative dress made of the purest silk.

Feeling her connection to Artoran, the newly born goddess decides to reward her father's forwardness, by removing her mask. As soon as she does a blinding light radiates from her face, an example of true beauty and perfection to all the gods who see it. ( I will let you guys decide what 'perfection' and 'beauty' means depending on your character's perspective.) The goddess then throws herself into her father's arms.

"Well lovely, you are a sight. You make my eyes lust after every muscular curve of your well made body. But, alas there is no imagination in looking at your form. Only knowledge of what is, and that does not make my blood boil. " she says as she pushes herself against Artoran, her lips barley touching Artoran's in the slightest of kisses. To which she whispers in his ear "I am 'Fairer Than You'. I am Kar'Vode'an." with a grin having revealed the origin of her divine name.

"I suggest you wear something to cover your....assets. A sign of your superiority!" she whispers as she snaps her fingers.


AP14 = 15-1: Create Lesser Concept: Clothes. (Freely available to any mortals who feel like being modest.)

[Umbranar]

Galvastia
"A lineage of law and order. Quite the family to be born into..." Heramaes mumbles to himself after hearing Rhanor's introduction. He turns to Rhanor to address him, giving his mother time to think over his oath. "Thank you cousin, I'm very happy to make your acquaintance," Heramaes says warmly, extending a hand. "You seem rather knowledgeable about this world. Perhaps while my mother is considering this offer, you could speak to be about the other important families. And why you are brokering, and my mother considering, a deal of this nature."

Rhanor look at the hand, although none can see his face he seems to ponder what to do. He let his book float aside so his hands were free. He made the same gesture at Heramaes and grasps his outstretched hand. I do not possess much knowledge of this world for I do not exist much longer then you. I do understand though that a clash of beings like us, gods, can result in the end of this world. The gods created the mortals and can end them but have no right to do so. Every compromise that can avoid such a clash is valuable and I see it as my task to record these deals and enforce them. As for other families? I do not know them, I have only met my Father, my Aunt, the Lady of Pestilence and you so far.


"Seems reasonable. You have a Knight's word on this."

Rhanor turns to his aunt and nods. The book floats before him as his hammer appears in his hand. Then this is my Sentence. May my judgement last for an eternity. I vow that I will do everything within my power to see both sides uphold their end of the deal and punish the one breaking it. With a mighty blow of his warhammer, Sentence, hits the page that shows the exact wording of the deal, sending black and white sparks into the air. On the page the holy symbols of Naer'Va, Aleru and Rhanor appeared. The book then closed and returned to its chain.

All but one white spark and one black spark remained and changed in form. They looked like smaller versions of Rhanor, one dressed in white hooded robes, the other in black. Both then sprout wings. The white robed figure stretched its beautiful feathery white winds, while the black one sported black bat-like wings. Both had a breastplate inscribed with symbols, celestial runes for the white one, infernal runes for the black. The white robed figure carries a large shield and a longsword, while the black carries a large black bow and black arrows. The two figure looked at each other a moment later, more sparks appeared and formed into the same beings.
Listen my children, my Arbiters. This world knows to much chaos and needs to be balance by law. You will be my eyes and ears and you will serve the mortals in this world as judges and wardens. Some mortals might resent you and send you away. Leave them to their chaos and protect the mortal races who accept you. You are to solve their disputes to avoid chaos and conflict. You are to protect those who accept you against those who oppose law and order, but you won`t initiate such a conflict. Go and perform your tasks.

And so the Arbiters spread out, a pair for every community to offer their services its inhabitants.


Start AP: 11
Created Fabled Life: Arbiters - 4AP. Arbiters work in pairs, a black and a white one, and are connected with each other to insure balance. If one dies, the other dies as well but being connected they are also more resilient to wounds as they share the burden. Arbiters will protect those who accept them as peacekeepers and judges. In battle the white Arbiters will focus on defense and disrupting the enemy in melee, while the black Arbiters focus on offence with their bows.
Ap left: 7

[Venetian Mask]

The Court
When the wargod breached his sanctum Nester had suddenly changed. His face going from surprise when the unannounced "guest" showed up, to shock when he slew his children, to a cold fury. Sparks began gathering around him as he began How dare you... But Kereth was swifter. Kereth dashed in ripping out the wraith that possessed the wargod. Kereth, you mean to say that another being possessed a god? The last word has a tone of incredulousity to it, how could something possess a god? He walks over to his fallen children and summons some of his spark. The Autons are covered in a rain of sparks of all colors. As they fade into the mechanical bodies they are whole again, but they do not spring to life. The eyes that shone with bright light are cold and dark, the sound of whirring and mechanics has ceased, and only silence emmanates from them. Then his tone changes, from incredulity to sadness. Tohrak and Felter, my sons... I couldn't save you... He then turns to Kereth, sadness tempered by determination. These were the first Autons to meet the stillness of death. Please, could you personally see their souls to the Soulfields my friend, for me?

The interruption has passed and Nester regains his composure. He turns to Lady Aleru: Very well then, High Lady, we shall await the arrival of your companion. Please join me and be seated at the table, when negotiating an alliance one should not be looking down at the other from a throne. Nester guides Aleru back to the table in the center of the courtroom. He offers her a chair and then seats himself on the opposite side, motioning his kin to join him on that side of the table. A troubling development is happening in political landscape, my Lady. What do you think of this upstart pantheon forming itself.

[Arcran]

Artoran

While me may be unable to cause her blood to boil, Artoran finds that Kar'Vode'an had the opposite response on him. When the mask is removed Artoran is rendered speechless for the first time as he stares upon the most perfect swordmaiden ever created. Every blade was red like congealed blood and brutal in its elegance. Her form was beauty in every way that Artoran could imagine in.

When Artoran is kissed his blood threatens to turn to steam in his veins. At the mention of clothes Artoran desperately tries to think of something. With a clap of his hands a loincloth appears, one that does well, an adequate job at covering his assets. He grabs Kar'Vode''an, pulling her close.

"Is that what you had in mind?"

Feel free to play Dress Up with Artoran. :smallamused:


The Child

The Child takes Tharlock's gift with the slightest nod of his head. A sign to all Skizzik that he was a friend? At the very least, it meant The Child could find Tharlock should he ever have need of him. And a statue to himself, before the Antechamber? He'd be the one defending his Blood-Father there. The though brings a wry smile to his lips.

"You are most generous, Underking Tharlock," The Child says, taking Tharlock's hand. "Sadly, under these caves is not where I belong. I must return to the surface to spread the word of my Blood-Father. I must bathe my blades in humans. And I must begin preparations."

Exactly for what, The Child does not elaborate on.

And The Child laughed.

[Hemnon]

The Wraith... no, that name was too bland... too 'lowly'. It needed a new name. 'Zarchesh' would do, yes, it was very fitting for a god.

All this light was a problem as well... There was need for a place without it, a place from where everything was dark and shadowy... a place between all places. Zarchesh needed a place that was connected to everywhere, but out of reach from everyone as well. Then came the idea of turning a soul into a haunting spirit, that will allow them to linger in that place, if they are unwilling to cross over or forced to stay, they'll become a specter. And they need to be called something as well... they are not dead as such, and neither are they alive... they are the Undead... yes. that fits very well.

Lastly came the idea of how these 'Undead' would gain their spark of unlife, the energy that would sustain their form and enable to to remain in existence. there was need for yet another Plane, a Plane who's energy was the opposite of that which grants life. A Plane of Negative Energy.


AP: 15

Weave Plane (4): the Ethereal Plane.
a place connected to everywhere, but not truly there either, like the doorway between rooms. It's meant to be the only path between different planes, and this included the travel of souls, which means that any soul that does not want to go on, can linger in the Ethereal Plane and basically become a ghost that can haunt the material plane as a specter or a shade.

Create Advanced Concept (2): Undead.
the soulless bodies that shambles, the blood-thirsty vampire that stalks the night, the Mage that locked away his soul to gain a form of pseudo-immortality, and the Spirit that haunts the material plane. they are all undead, it is what undead means. it's another type of existence that doesn't require any bodily functions in order to work, but instead gains their unlife-energy in another way.

Create Magical Life (3): Shades.
The Souls that are unwilling or somehow unable to leave the Ethereal Plane. They haunt the material plane as Ghosts and specters.

Weave Plane (4): the Plane of Negative Energy.
a place of unlife (and mostly a cold and barren wasteland of eternal shadow) and where anything living is in constant conflict with the very essence of the place, which would eventually kill anything that was alive. But to the undead, it was their 'life force' the Plane that contained the very stuff that enabled their existence.

-------------------------------------
Total AP: 15-13 = 2 remaining.