Lords of Creation: Ancients of the Void v2.0 [Archive]

Arcran

2014-06-29, 05:38 PM

Before the Wife

Artoran sits within the Void, smirking at Aleru's head, still clasped in his hand. The Boar was dashing about, sprinting around as it oinked endlessly. It would seem that, even in death, Aleru would manage to get on his nerves. Still, The Boar seemed an extension of him and, if nothing else, was a reminder for all eternity for those that would try to oppose him.

And the, of course, his gaze lingers to Drinker. The blade had been one of his first creations, forged from the Original Murder just like himself. And yet here it was, chipped and broken. It had been forged from the blood of mortals. Blood of mortals consecrated in a powerful deed but yet, still the blood of mortals. It was nothing against the creations of gods.

And, so, Artoran laid the edge of Drinker against his palm, watching as the eager blade cuts through his hand. The blood flows freely from the wound, up Drinker's length, the divine blood mingling with the blade as it becomes whole, chip by chip.

When a bone shatters and is healed again it becomes far stronger than it once was. And so it was with Drinker, every chip and crack filling to create a stronger blade, a sharper blade. One more worthy of a god.

As Artoran swings the blade a few times, feeling the weight, he can't help but smile.

1 AP + 6 (Rollover)

Infuse Drinker - 2 AP

5 AP left

The Prodigal Daughter-Bride Returns

In the void

All of a sudden, Artoran hears a voice that he has not heard in ages "Greetings Beloved." says his child and bride. "Our time apart has finally ended. Were you expecting me, and prepared for our wedding by bathing in blood and gore?" she says removing her mask and biting her lips at the sight of her father, and soon husband.

Artoran is still busy testing the improved Drinker when she arrives, the goddess of his dreams. His daughter-bride, his Queen of Carnage.

When he sees her Artoran has no words. He simply runs to her, lifts her up and spins, laughing as his Sword-Queen returns.

"And a grand wedding it shall be!"

Tribe Fox

Kalux wandered the abandoned streets of the Galvastian capitol, a frown on his face as he runs his hands through his silver hair. Together the tribes had done this! They had destroyed the throne of Galvastia, had slain Aleru. Together the Toraq people had changed the world forever.

And yet within a few days of the city burning the tribes had left, Gecko with slaves and the rest with vast amounts of food and other loot. The great Toraqi race had spread out into their tribes which, while powerful, could not accomplish something of this scale.

And there is, of course, the matter of his own tribe. While they were Tribe Fox they were called that because of him. Few, if any, had Beasts. As such they had taken heavier losses than most, reducing his own Tribe down to perhaps half of what they had once been.

He walks through the streets, kicking away a few human corpses as they got in his path. He sees a small pack of dogs in the distance, attacking a corpse. That on its own was nothing, of course. The dogs had moved in even as the Toraq left.

What was of note was the silvery fox on the roof, slowly pushing a slab of stone towards the edge of a nearby house. The rock wobbles on the edge, one, twice, thrice, then falls, crushing the dogs underneath it and leaving the corpse for the fox alone. Kalux can't help but to grin as he strides towards the fox. It was a gift from his god, was it not? What else could it be?

And so Kalux strides forward as the fox leaps down, watching him with wary eyes. As Kalux extends his arm the fox moves to sniff him.

When they touch, both of their hearts stop.

And beat again, faster and harder.

Using The Great Boar to create Tribe Fox (https://ancientsofthevoid.obsidianportal.com/wikis/fox-tribe).

A Child and a Scholar

The Child flew over the forest, his eyes intent on the ground. He had been nearly upon Klein when the elves had disappeared in a flash. While The Child enjoyed a fight he did not presume such an action was good for him or good for the Toraq race and, after consulting Vitri, had decided that there were far more important things the two could seek to do.

And so they flew over the lands around Verenzano, seeking. Toraq infected with the Red Plague weren't executed like they were so often among the lesser races. No, they were simply banished, left to roam the wilderness alone for all their days. It was a harsh life, one that drove many Toraq mad, but they were alive. The Child had found two already yet both had proven too weak to stand his training.

And then The Child saw one. A Toraq, alone, without a Beast, roaming the woods below. Vitri had already seen him and, without speaking a word, the two swoop down towards the Toraq.

The Mother

Atleon dug fervently at the sand, searching for water, any water. The great insect that had become her Beast seemed hardly bothered by the heat but, for a Toraq, especially one nearing birth, the sun was agony. She had not seen an oasis for days. Or had it been weeks? The woman had lost track of time.

She dug frantically, the flat blade of a sword proving to be a shovel of little effect. At least as she dug the sand was cooler than the sand of the surface.

For long hours the Toraqi woman dug, her Beast moving to aid her with great chittering mandibles. When she finally collapsed, exhausted, the woman saw that the sand was wet not from water, but from her own blood.

Atleon laughed as she scooped up a clump, watching it. It was not a mirthful laugh but one of resignation, of knowing that she was doomed.

And then she felt the pull of her blood within the sand and watched as, bit by bit, the sand began to shape itself into long, hard bricks, the desert sands fortified with her own blood. Without thinking the woman begins to pick the bricks up, one by one, and begins to build, her body seemingly not under her own control. Her thirst was forgotten as the woman began to work for days and days, her belly swollen with her children.

The First Rave

The great horde ran forward, ignoring food and water as they pursued The Gem. Some had collapsed under the stress, trampled beneath the feet of hordes of others. The horde number perhaps two thousand which, while nothing great, would be able to inflict damage upon the city. They flew threw villages, smashing all in their paths although it seemed that nobody remained in those villages.

And then they were upon Klein, the great stone city standing in the middle of their path. With a great roar they fly forward, seeking to destroy the great city that is between them and the beautiful, wondrous gem.

If you just want to kill them I don't think that would really take countering. You probably wouldn't even take that many casualties. Saving them, however, would require AP.

Inspector Valin

2014-06-29, 06:09 PM

Klein: Hall of Law - Oncoming Horde
"And now, the next threat arrives. Carried on a tide of bloodlust, courtesy of the Elf Queen's beau."

Nika sighs, her sight noting the stampede far before the humans drew within sight of the walls of Klein. The remnant of a conflict that she'd done nothing to resolve. A reminder of yet one more tragedy that'd befallen mortalkind upon her watch. The Fall of Galvastia. The Death of Aleru. The Red Gem. So many things she had still to set to rights. So many challenges that even now seemed impossible, welling up before her. She couldn't change that. But one thing at a time...

Placing a hand to Truth, the Hall of Law begun to fill with a silvery light. Gentle, comforting. A guiding light. The storm above the city beginning to recede, the light spread out beyond the Hall, reaching out over the city. The Hall of Law had become a beacon.

The Gem-Crazed charged out from the canopy, the towers of Klein coming into sight for the first time. And at the sight of the walls of Klein, each and every one fell back, bathing in the silver light. Behind them, White Robes smiled, bringing the injured afflicted within range of the silvery light. The travellers were silent, lost looking upwards, even as the light slowly begun to recede. Even without the beacon lit, its effects remained. The promise Nika Silvereyes had made to the merfolk had been extended to the rest of mortalkind.

A new life. And a second chance, away from the destruction that'd enveloped their homeland. And no Blood Magic would change that

Since it was a free curse, would it be 1AP or 2AP to counter? Either way, Nika's paying it.

Bless: Any being who comes within sight of the Walls of Klein is cured of all mind altering effects. Within Nika's sight, all mortal beings have free wil, no matter what.

Feast Faines
Nika sighed, the energy of the blessing draining her for the moment. Looking across the hall, she saw the dispirited form of the Fire God, the poor being disappointed at what had become of a former celebration. Walking across to her fellow deity, Nika bowed her head, frowning, honestly apologetic. "Faines, I'm sorry. You had come here for a celebration, and ended up in the middle of a damned parade, courtesy of our good queen. We should treat our guests better, when we can at least."

Nika paused for a moment, thinking through an idea, before raising her hand, grinning wide and gesturing to the servants and chef. "Let's resume the feast! In honour of the dead, and celebration of the living! For Klein, Verenzano and whoever else wants to enjoy themselves." The White Robes cheer, the remains of Wyr's squad entering to take seats at the feast table, gesturing to the Veren servers to join them at the meal, Olan moving outward to recruit everyday citizens to join them, and make up the numbers. Nika grinned a touch forlornly to her fellow god. "Could you give us a song, fire-lord? I could use something to take my mind away from the politics."

ThePhantom

2014-06-29, 06:47 PM

Feast Faines

Faines lifts his head up as Nika talks to him. Well, that was kind of her, and then she asks for a song. Faines smiles widely and his scarves start moving in a happy pattern.

Why, I would love to do so.

Faines stands up, his scarves moving in different patterns as he finds the right notes for him to start. Then once he's satisfied, he starts singing. Now, the city has recently seen the goddess of beauty, but they haven't heard the god of music before. His song, a song of the defender returning safely home to his loved one, flows through the whole of the city of Klein. Its festive tune colors some of the materials of the buildings a fiery red, and many will remember this and be inspired to use some of this song throughout their lives, and the mood is certainly improved.

Bless 1AP: The song of Faines proves an festive mood in Klein, inspiring a generation to the art of music.

Shmee

2014-06-29, 06:51 PM

Eldamar

2014-06-29, 08:28 PM

The Forge of Sparks

After the construction of his secret army, the Lord of Magic took to studying the new metal he had forged. The properties; exquisite. The beauty; like polished silver. After searching through his great tome, pouring through every smith and miner’s memory that had ever lived, he could find no record of any metal matching mithril. Yet, it wasn’t exactly metal, was it?

When the call came from Kereth, Mirmulnir wasted little time, already seated at the Mechanicus Council table in a chair of carved obsidian. A veritable throne carved from the shiny black stone, a great open book relief carved into the back. The arm rests carved into the shape of Arachne heads, a dozen black eyes and gaping maws of spiked teeth. Once the others enter, he speaks up, the echoing whisper growing more… forceful.

“The aggression of the elves and Kar’vode’an has troubled me since their creation, and I have taken precautions before anyone else.” Snapping his metal fingers, a magical projection of the world surrounding Galvstia and Anval appears. “I am the reason they were tardy.” The map was old, for the land bridge between continents was yet intact, but starting to crumble at Mirmulnir’s confession. ”This passage between lands Kar’vode’an created must be severed before the elves march, and to keep the Toraq and Elves quarantined. “

Sitting forward, he rests his hands upon the table and glances at Nika. “The protection of Klein from the cursed children of Aleru will be handled by me, with your permission Ascendant. I have conceived a curse for all Toraq as a reminder of their savagery and deliver the restless dead justice.”

Klein

The pleas of Mehket were difficult to ignore, but the urgency and desperation in the voice of Madness was more than disconcerting for the God-Turned-Man. Mirmulnir, still garbed in human form stood at the door of Elsewhere Hall, staring up at the slithering madness that was Mehket. “Becalm yourself before the city erupts into a town of madmen, Mehket. What have you broken this time?”

The pale skinned, silver-eyed man no more than thirty dressed in black armor stared at the writhing mass of limbs, organs, and faces seemingly unperturbed by the confusing, and sickening, form of Chaos made flesh as those unlucky mortals nearby shirk away in horror.

Starting AP: 3AP/1PAP
Rollover: 4AP
Ending AP: 7AP/1PAP

Arcran

2014-06-29, 09:01 PM

The War God Does Not Make War

Kar'Vode'an runs a finger across the Artoran's chest. "It would seem that you have finally defeated the great whore Aleru. May all liars, deceivers and tricksters who oppose us share a similar fate." she says as she coos into her father's ear "Indeed it shall. For we need no ceremony to parade our passion as if to amuse the commoners. I have you, and you have me. You shall now take me as a husband takes his wife, which shall bind us... " the goddess of Love whispers her request to Artoran.

Having finished, Kar'Vode'an digs her claws into the back of Artoran's neck bringing the two face to face "Now then... shut up and take me!" as she challenges the god of Slaughter to be as rough as he wanted.

When it comes to making love or making war Artoran needs little convincing, even less so when his daughter-bride is involved.

And so Artoran pursues the task with great vigor, time and time again, until even the God of War is exhausted, more exhausted than he was after his battle with Nika.

The Blood-God reclines happily as the two finish, looking at his new wife with eyes more filled with lust than love.

Toxic Mind

2014-06-29, 09:10 PM

Eldamar

2014-06-29, 09:30 PM

The Forge of Sparks - The Meeting Hall

Even as Mirmulnir begins his speech, he can see another chair at the meeting hall. This one is in the motif of insects, and the goddess who would fill it shows soon enough. "Naer'Va has agreed to join with us in guiding the mortals. You are to treat with the same deference you would give me." Kereth sits down, Naer'Va on his right, and Nika on his left. "The city is Nika's to protect, but your plan for the Toraq bears merit. What have you in mind?" Upon hearing about the land bridge, Kereth lies deep in thought. "This bridge only materializes during the day, yes? We need not destroy it then, as it is a trap laid by its creator for the creations it was built to protect. If it is used by any army, the consequences will be catastrophic. Leave that to me. However, each of our peoples and creations is now threatened by Kar'vode'an and any loyal to her. you must all be in your guard, for our foe will fight with any means at her disposal. Do not expect honor from her, for she cares for nothing but herself. Remember that as long as we are one, we must stand as one against her, but we will not be the aggressors." Kereth looks pointedly at Mirmulnir. "If we strike the first blow, the entire Unchained will unite against us. However, if she strikes first, they may turn against her, as they did with Iskar'Ven." Kereth sits back, allowing others to say their piece.

“I make no moves in the open, Progenitor. Let the world see my work as Aleru’s final curse to her killers. Those murdered by the Toraq for their faith in her shall rise, bereft of souls but not of vengeance. By the thousands, they will rise to find their Toraq murderers and enact justice upon them.”

As Mirmulnir stands, his empty hood sweeps from Nika to Kereth, and finally Naer’va. “Let me request that the Plaguemother reserve open declarations of allegiance to us, and instead comfort her kin. I hold great sway over the Skizziks, as my Lady is aware, and for long have I urged their invasion of the surface to begin in Anval so the war-torn Galvastia can heal. Would you command Thurlock to heed his uncle’s council? Invade the elves, as I have suggested, and they will not suspect us.”

Another flick of his wrist and the image of the world changes, becoming a multi-layered map of the surface and the vast tunnels and caverns of Skizzblight stretching across half the world. The invasion plan drawn by the Dark One so long ago glow in a sickly green light. “Everything has been prepared. The invasion will be swift, precise, and deadly. The Drow, Plaguemother, will be spared.”

Shmee

2014-06-29, 09:42 PM

The War God Does Not Make War

When it comes to making love or making war Artoran needs little convincing, even less so when his daughter-bride is involved.

And so Artoran pursues the task with great vigor, time and time again, until even the God of War is exhausted, more exhausted than he was after his battle with Nika.

Ambience Music (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ve-gIhA5WL8)

All of a sudden the entire of creation is filled with a shriek that lasts for several minuites "AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH HHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH HHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!" as Kar'Vode'an reaches a climax of passion and ecstasy.

PAP1: Bless the entire world to increase their libido, thus resulting in a massive population boost worldwide.

The War God Does Not Make War

The Blood-God reclines happily as the two finish, looking at his new wife with eyes more filled with lust than love.

If the blood god had lust in his eyes, then what could be said as the Lady of Lust grabs her husbands and yells "Oh no you don't! You're going to ride me for each day that we were separated! Get over here!" she screams in a fit of ecstasy, as she goes for round two. Its not long before her screams are heard once more, and considering the two lovers were separated for aeons... this could last a while...

Arcran

2014-06-29, 10:38 PM

Is His Name Really Pickles?

Spire of Quark
Nazthiiros and Pickles

Of the hundreds of intruders he sensed crossing the barrier, Nazthiiros perceived only one crossing back. The threat was neutralized, for the moment, and the relief was transparent on the great dragon’s face. With the dread of the exposure of their city passed, the blue-eyed wyrm’s voice catches a softer tune. “Have you ever heard of Quark? No. No one has. If no one knows we exist, or where we are, we can’t be attacked. So… Pickles, “, Nazthiiros rolls his good eye at the name, never imagining the Toraq were quite that simple. “… of Tribe Fox, I’ve answered your question, now answer mine. That is agreeable, no? Each asks a question for the other to answer. Where is Tribe Fox’s territory?”

Pickles looks at the dragon, some fear remaining. Yet, for whatever reason, being reminded whose Tribe he belonged to helped to solidify what meager courage the Toraq had. While still clearly terrified, it's less so.

"Fox goes where it wants," Pickles says boldly, looking at the dragon. "Our land is wherever we take it!"

Pickles looks at the dragon hesitantly, wondering what to ask. And then he sees the wings and, like all small children, asks the logical question.

"Can you fly?"

Inspector Valin

2014-06-29, 10:56 PM

Jibb's Camp
They're going to eat us alive, bit by bit... Or torture us for fun! Or use our still living bodies to power some obscene magical ritual, or....

Senna continued down the line, trying hard not to look to either side, or bustle against the Skizzik. Hard: she was too tall, too muscular, and now was walking a very straight and narrow path in the midst of the procession. They'd been marching for a long time, and the rope around her hand still chaffed. Senna glanced towards her side, and the covered hut, trying to gain any glimpse of the others, before looking towards the leader, trying to sound calm as she asked "What... what are you going to do with us?"

War Council - Forge of Sparks
"You want me to let them die?"

Nika's eyes rested on Mirmulnir, single question standing amidst all the planning and thoughts. The Galvastians were innocent, bewitched by the Red Gem's light. And it was within Nika's power to save them. To not protect them, to let innocent people fall for the sake of vengeance on the guilty...the idea sat heavy on Nika's heart. She was not angered by the suggestion, but her look was bleak none the less. After everything that'd happened, and everything they were discussing, that was a blow

Eshkigal

2014-06-29, 10:57 PM

Klein
"It wasn't me! Sideshne's spark was too weak to support a god for long! I am working to save her, but I need knowledge at my side! You are the only one with what I need to save her from oblivion, the one who understands the dead flesh and souls that stay behind, what is your price?!"

The strains of madness coalesce, flowing back through the city and into the one tendril.

"Please, I cannot, will not let her be consumed! I need you in Verenzano to help forge the last shards of her into something the Beast's Beyond shall not have! Name your price, and it is yours so long as it is something I can give, and if it something I cannot, I shall seize if that is what it takes!"

The eyes of the god before you are frantic, for time is short. However, it is also full of a determination. With or without you, it shall act, and damn the consequences if you do not help.

Verenzano
Molly leaps and...huh. It's nowhere near as scary as she thought it would be. For starters, she's at the top of a tall tower, so not much has changed in that regard. She looks gets to a corner and-
"Stay. Stay. Stay-"
Molly pauses in place, unable to turn at the voice, but staring out at the city was nice at least. Two temples stood tall in the land, one...okay, strangely made of bone, but it was in such an oddly classy way that it felt almost right, more like honoring death rather than mocking it. The other stood dark, heavily attended but with the statues slowly wearing away, name nearly forgotten. Below, the city stands still, but it looks like a wealthy land, a land where people of all sorts have lived a long while, crab and human trade, share drink with toraq, some skizzik frozen where they shouted wares and goblins held such pretty jewelry among their groups. A sprawling city of ordered chaos, which when Molly looks she can see the patterns in it, but if she didn't it would all look like a pretty mess. Then her view is cut off by a figure made of dust, who keeps saying Stay. Words form on her.
"I am sorry. I must keep Sideshne stable. When Mekhet gets the final piece, we will start. I am the Handmaiden, Sideshne's Exarch. I apologize but I must continue."

"Stay speak. Stay speak. Stay speak..."

The city begins a jumble of all the words they have been trying to say since this began, and Molly finds her mouth able to move...

Eldamar

2014-06-29, 11:41 PM

The Forge of Sparks

Kereth, Naer’va, Nika, Mirmulnir

“The Red Gem’s curse is ancient and powerful. Its sway over them is absolute. The horde will murder and destroy everything in its path. Would it not be kinder to end it immediately, free their souls from its torment? They will never be truly free from its taint now.” The Keeper of Memories knew all too well the truth of their predicament. Many mortal souls have been cut short over this accursed gem, and he took the time to read through every one.

Klein
Mehket and Mirmulnir

The cloaked human stands his arms crossed, studying the franticly coalescing tentacle as the benefits are weighed in his mind. Nothing immediate without know exactly was being asked of him. “I’m already there.” He nods, stern face void of expression as he sinks into a singularity and disappears without a sound.

Above Verenzano, Mirmulnir emerges back into the Material as a looming black storm cloud that soon envelopes the chanting Handmaiden. Smothering her into silence and blocking her ethereal script from mortal sight, Mirmulnir’s consciousness peers around the city in search of the broken form of Sidheshne. For whom else would the Mad God be so desperate to save?

Eshkigal

2014-06-29, 11:58 PM

As Mir disappears, the tendrils lift back out of the city, as others descend elsewhere...

Verenzano
Mekhet's tendrils begin to descend, these lifeless and without flesh, setting up around Sid's form (which happens to be right next to Mir). Once they are set, and keeping Sideshne from dispersing from the area, Mekhet's voice booms down from above.

"Set!"

"Resume."

All at once, the city and Molly find themselves able to move, as Sideshne is kept from dispersing any further. New tendrils extend towards Mirmulnir and Molly, as more descend into the cloud.

"Okay, you two. I am going to be providing the raw power and shaping the cloud up there. Mirmulnir, you have to tell us how to change the flow of energy properly to make what is coming only effect the undead, one way, both ways, doesn't matter. Molly, I need you to regulate the flow, monitor it, tell me what to change to make it consistent, can you do that for me?"

And one shouts to the heavens.

"How's this, DON'T SHAKE THE BEDAMNED UNIVERSE WHILE I'M WORKING THIS TIME!"

Darklady2831

2014-06-30, 01:56 AM

The Forge of Sparks
Kereth, Nika, Mirmulnir, Naer'Va

Naer'Va listens to the proceedings, keeping quite the whole while. If she had input, she wasn't speaking it. She sat there in her dark green suit of armor, hands folded neatly in her lap. From the slits in her visor pale green light could be seen, but other than that there was nothing to indicate that Naer'Va was even there. She turned to look at Nika or Mirmulnir when they spoke, always with a respectful gaze.

Deeper in the Forge

The Auton who forged Aegisdrinker labored away, pouring the molten metal into the cast. He hammered the spikes into the perfect shape. He shaped the metal for the chain. He bent each link with precision, making sure to meld the ends of each link together to ensure a strong bond. The wood, grown in the courtyard of the keep in the Plaguelands, was carved perfectly, awaiting only the fittings that would turn it into the grip of the weapon. He smiled, working the plaguesteel spikes into the cast iron orb. He attatched the steel chain to it, and made sure to reheat it to forge it one last time, securing all the fittings. After many hours, he placed his work on the bench. He marveled at it, before smiling and turning to fetch his customer.

The Forge of Sparks, Meeting of Gods

Haephest stopped at the threshold of the hall, bowing and waiting to be addressed. Naer'Va glanced over, then smiled. "Excuse me a moment, I will return." She said, standing and walking over to the Auton. "To your workshop, then, Haephest?" "Yes, my lady." "After you."

Haephest's Workshop

Naer'Va smiled, gazing upon the weapon. "Thank you, Haephest... this is perfect." She said, taking her gauntlet off and running it along one of the spikes. "I made it to your specifications... it was a privilege to forge for a goddess once again." Naer'Va shook her head, still gazing upon the weapon. "No, it was a privilege to know you and receive such a gift." Naer'Va replied, putting her gauntlet back on and grasping the weapon in one hand.

Energy poured through her hand and into the flail. Each spike seemed uncannily sharp, each chain link seemed to breath and move on its own, guiding the ball on the end of the chain towards whatever target it sought. Naer'Va's eyes flare, and the flail burst into bright green flame, igniting power within itself. "Nika has 'Truth'... Artoran has 'Drinker'... and I... I have 'Scourge'."

6 AP (Rollover)/1 PAP - 4 AP - 2 AP/1 PAP = 0 AP/0 PAP
4 AP: Create Relic: Scourge - Scourge is a flail made of Iron, Steel, and Plaguesteel; and empowered by Naer'Va. It is a divine weapon designed to crush bones, rend flesh, and pierce armor. Scourge gives Naer'Va a bonus to RCR.
2 AP/1 PAP: Gain Domain: Magic (Enhancement)

1/7 AP Contribute to Alchemy
3/7 AP Contribute to Sorcery
4/7 AP Create Flesh Golems
6/7 AP Infuse Tharlock
7/7 AP Contribute to Divine Martial Arts

Shmee

2014-06-30, 01:49 PM

The Strange Chronicles of the Mysterious Goblin
Chapter 1: Prelude to Destruction

Life could be so unfair at times. Abandoned at an early age, the only thing that the little Goblin ever wanted to do was to become a thespian. Acting was in his blood, and he had a vision that he could conquer the world with his poetic visions and his golden voice, by moving people to tears with his performances. Sadly, fate had dealt him a cruel card as not only was he short, even by Goblin standards, but it was his voice that shattered his dreams as his 'golden' voice can best be described as talons scraping against a chalkboard. Considering that the Goblin was oblivious to his shortcomings, he was also equally oblivious to the fact that he would often scream loudly at inappropriate moments, thus earning the name that was given by the traveling troupe that had picked him up, and raised him as a joke.

It was thus that Skreechy Barahaha began his pitiful career. The fact that his misshaped nose would remind anyone of a crescent moon, did not help poor Skreechy in the looks department, and neither does his comically large feet which gives the Goblin a silly walk. Throw in to the equation that Skreechy never bathed and smelled like death meant that he only had one suitable role within the traveling troupe. He would don makeup covering his wart infested green skin, and place a wig over his bald head, while he would place a red rubber ball over his nose that would honk once squeezed. It was degrading.

But it was the laughter that hurt the most. Every day, he'd go out to make a living by providing entertainment to ungrateful crowds as they watched a humiliating act were the helpless Goblin would honk his nose before being sat upon by an elephant. Then as the elephant would get up, the kids would normally start flinging peanuts at poor Skreechy. Worst part was, he was literally paid peanuts, as they were his only source of food.

Then one day it happened...

"Arrrgh! I can't stand it no longer!" yells screechy as he throws his wig "They dare mock me, DARE THEY!?" he yells at no one in particular as he raises his clenched fists to the heavens. Having grown up wanting to be a thespian, Skreechy had a habit of throwing monologues in a dramatic tone during the most inappropriate moments, giving the impression to others that the little Goblin was touched in the head. Perhaps Skreechy was... after all, being sat upon by an elephant every day for several years would drive the most sturdy man insane.

"Look mommy, the little man lost his hair!" says a passing child to her mother who happened to have seen Skreechy's act. Naturally feeling sorry for the Goblin, the child throws a peanut at him, the peanut itself bouncing off of Skreechy's bald head.

Then something snaps within the Goblin's mind... perhaps it was the years of having an elephant sitting on him... perhaps it was all those people laughing at him... perhaps it was his destiny... or perhaps it was just the peanut. Regardless Skreechy turns to the kid and in a frenzy attacks her while managing to shriek an entire sentence within a single word "Insignificantfoolishfoolofafoolyourendshallnotbesw ift!" as he unleashes all of his fury upon the unsuspecting child that threw the peanut that broke the camel's back. What follows next is unspeakable as another shriek is heard "Unhand me you cretin! You dare touch me, DARE YOU? Oh noooooooooo! How could this have happened!? NOT THE FACE! NOT THE FACE!" as the little child easily beats the living snot out of the Goblin, leaving him kissing the floor. For amongst many things that he was, Skreechy was also a weakling. Even by Goblin standards.

Even though Skreechy had not only failed to land a single blow upon the little girl, but also got trounced badly, the troupe decided that they could not tolerate someone who would attack their clients. Therefore, his contract was broken, and Skreechy was released. And by released, it meant that the other troupe members, tired of the Goblin's pathetic pleas that he'd become their slave, decided to tie and gag him, and throw him into a nearby river.

Several days later, a Crab is minding its own business on the outskirts of Klein. Today was the day that the deadline imposed upon by the Elves would expire. It suddenly sees a strange sight. Washed up by the bank of the river, a tied up Goblin... most likely drowned and judging by its stench, this one seems as if its been ripe for several weeks. However, the Crab was not one to pass up on a free meal, so it scuttles towards the corpse and begins to prod it, looking for a tender part. All of a sudden the corpse's eyes blink wide open as the Goblin who was not dead after all yells "I live!" as Skreechy jumps onto his feet and begins fleeing into the the relative safety of the city "I LIVE! I LIVE! I LIVE! I LIVE! I LIVE! I LIVE! I LIVE! I LIVE! I LIVE! Mwahahahahahahahahahahaha!" yelling all the while how he's apparently alive.

Later that night, while the feast was in full swing, Skreechy walked the streets of Klein, busily sneaking up and stealing any food he could get his dirty little hands on, quickly stuffing it into his mouth and swallowing without even chewing. Several times Skreechy was revealed because he would almost choke while trying to swallow the food whole.

Several hours later, as the feast continues into the night, Skreechy notices that a stage had been set allowing for anyone who wanted to sing. The Goblin rubs his hands in glee "Yes... yes... YES! Finally my chance so that people may worship my TALENT!" he screams to himself, causing a pair of Kleinites to abruptly change their course as they were walking his way, too terrified to stay near the strange insane creature. Or perhaps it was the smell. Or both.

As the latest singer finishes his song, a voice is heard "Rejoice insignificant peons! For today you shall be graced A SONG... that I wrote... MYSELF! I hope you like it..." Skreechy motions at the band to start playing as he sings his song about the hardships which comes with being the eldest of twelve siblings, of how his mother had to abandon him, how he had to deal with degrading work in order to live, and his hope for a better future. Well... actually it was less singing, and more screaming off key. However Skreechy was so focused in his own song that as he begins to tear, he starts pumping his hand and stomping his foot loudly to the beat of the song, while screaming even louder to the people who remain dumfounded at what they believed was a little Goblin having a seizure.

Finishing his song, Skreechy throws his hands into the air expecting the crowd to shower him with adoration. Instead he sees them staring dumfounded. Of course, being invested so much into his own song, and having his back turned at the Halls of Law, Skreechy had failed to notice the radiating light which heralded the departure of the goddess of Love from the city. Therefore, there could only be one explanation...

"Heh... as much as I love singing, I've never had a standing ovation before! ALRIGHT!" he screams pointing at the crowd "YOU WANT AN ENCORE!? HIT IT PEONS!" he commands the band as the breaks into another rendition of his power ballad, pumping his arm and stomping his foot. Half an hour later, the Goblin is still on the stage busily stomping, pumping, crying and screaming his lungs off, which can even be faintly heard within the Halls of Law itself as he breaks into the twentieth encore of his sad (in more than one way) song.

Of course there is a limit to how much one can stand, and when ever someone would try to stop the frantic Goblin from singing he would snap "DON'T TOUCH ME PEASANT!" and "GET YOUR OWN STAGE!" before continuing his song. Therefore having had enough, forcefully grab Skreechy as he's about to break into song once more. Being so small, it really did not take that much effort to carry him as he is heard screaming "No! No! No! DAMN YOU! DAMN YOUUUUUUUUUUUUU!" as the people of Klein shatter his often too shattered dream and unceremoniously dump him outside the city. Naturally only once the Goblin was out of earshot did the audience finally start applauding and cheering.

Outside the city, the Goblin still smarting from this humiliating experience gets up and points an accusing finger at the city "REJECT ME WILL YOU?! Just you wait and see... YOU SHALL RUE THIS DAY! DO YOU HEAR ME! YOU... SHALL... RUE IT! I like that word... rue... rue... rue... rue.. rue... YOU SHALL RUE IT! YOU'LL SEE!" He screams as he runs away into the forest for no apparent reason. Who knows what type of horrible revenge this little Goblin is capable of, and of what horrors he would unleash upon this world.

A few moments later, a scream is heard "OH NOOOOOOO! HOW COULD THIS HAVE HAPPEN?!" as Skreechy runs out of the forest arms raised in the air and behind him the crazed horde of Galvastians hot on his tail. "YOU THERE! DON'T HURT ME AND I'LL BE YOUR SLAVE!" he screams futilely to the horde as he continues to run for his life.

Then again, the world was probably safe.

Probably...

Use Artifact Charge: Create Lesser Concept: Clowns. (Open to all of course.)

Eshkigal

2014-06-30, 03:38 PM

Verenzano
"Alright, alright, let's do this, let's go, I'm so so sorry if this doesn't work, let's go-"
The tendrils around Sideshne each pull out a shard of madness, glowing bright with the gravelight as they begin releasing energy into the area. Mirmulnir gets to work as he begins to understand what the pillars are, not parts of the Mad God but adjustable conduits, shifting and spinning cogs and gears as he begins getting more of what the mad thing was doing. Preserving the body remaining, but siphoning out the corrupted energies of the Flawed Spark, channel them, make the divine life behind them lesser, but everything that comes with divinity being preserved in other forms. The soul may fragment among many lesser beings, the life may continue through countless others, but that which makes them a god would be taken and used to make a device that would strengthen Creation rather than Oblivion. So Mirmulnir shifts the energies, grasping the heart of chaos and undeath now, better to mold it, to channel it. Mekhet's power would be forever intertwined with keeping Sideshne alive, her will upon the world active, but the Fool seemed to take heart in that. Risky, dangerous, but potentially very useful to the God of Secrets...

Once the new machine was set, calibrated so Sideshne's will would stay within the energy put out and into the storm, the energies begin to arc into Molly's staff. Fear evident, the human wizard takes careful aim, the Handmaiden helping guide the shot gently, and fires into the roiling clouds above, praying to Nika this would work. When the energies feel like they're going to overwhelm her, when she was afraid that all that would happen was she and everything nearby would be turned into a messy smear, that this was impossible for any mortal to do, the Handmaiden takes her hands to pat and leans in, so only Molly could hear.

"Gods believe in you. Have confidence. All will be okay."

Lo and behold, she began believing in herself. She put a hand to where the energy discharged, and began taking it into herself, letting it flow into her. Shards of memory flow, shards of a goddess's life take root in the young woman, and she feels stronger for it, greater for it, like secrets of the worlds beyond had been opened to her and she to them.

But where was Mekhet in this? As the others worked, he shaped the storm. Tendrils kept it together, condensed it, made an eye above his helpers with two thousand of his own rings carefully woven into the storm, making it flow as directed. This would be where Sideshne would be housed. This would be the center of the Relic storm. As the storm was modeled, molded, rings began burrowing through the sky in the eye, before pulling apart to reveal the Ethereal. As energy began coursing into the created portal, a great tornado blew through the Walk of Sinners, uprooting the crucified dead and bringing them into the great Eye of the storm, sending them to the Procession of the God's Corpse. As the deific forces of the Last Whisper flowed into the eye, taking possession of this storm, making it their own, Mekhet gets to hear a final happy sigh, one last kiss.

"Thaaaaaannnnkkkk...yhoooouuuuuu...."

As the last touches of Sideshne flow, he looks, happy and sad, as the Storm Gate opens up upon Verenzano, covering the area with a heavy rain as it moved away from the city towards the remains of Galvastia. Sideshne would be safe from Oblivion, now and forever, her body, will, spirit, and mind protected from Oblivion. But she was still gone, and would likely never be again. All that's left is reminders...

"You're welcome...my love."

A shard of himself split from the tendrils receding into the sky, going down to where Molly had collapsed back, tired but grinning, and Mirmulnir just...sorta watched stuff like he normally did. Kinda disconcerting at times. The Handmaiden bowed low before them, and he joined her, bowing to mortal and god.

"Please, if there is any way I can ever repay you, let me know."

Meanwhile, in the Device, that which allowed Sideshne to be saved, some wisps begin to move, stirring up dust nearby. It flows about, poking, prodding, exploring all the crevices and people in the room, one made of fun spinning things, another of dust that felt familiar, one that looked like little fun, and one...she liked this one. Molly felt a large gust of air burst into her, barreling her around a bit before some nearby smoke and wisps of steam coalesce into...well, something that looked like a smaller version of her, maybe a foot tall, made from things the wind could catch, before shifting into a tiny bird of clouds and smoke that flew about her.

"Hi! I'm Cirra! Who are you? You look like fun!"

5/15 AP
4 AP: Create Relic, Storm Gate. An eternal storm, it is roughly the size of a hurricane and travels across the world towards high concentrations of uncontrolled undead, drawing those unclaimed by gods into the vortex with grand tornadoes. At its eye is a portal to the Ethereal Realm, and it goes both ways, though the Corpse God relic keeps any revenants or wraiths within the Ethereal from escaping. In time, it may also allow undead to leave, or may even be used by mortals brave and clever enough to reach it alive seek audience with the gods, especially Kereth or Mirmulnir. It contains the Will of Sideshne, the final shard of the Dying Goddess.
1 AP: Given to Nika for the Bless on Klein

0 AP remaining

Offering Molly membership into the Winds of the Goddess Organization! An organization infused with shards of Sideshne's memory, life, and spirit that will be expanded on in time. May end up getting zephyr drawn to her.
Offering Molly Zephyr Familiar, Cirra! The last portion of the goddess given life as one of the many fragments of her consciousness, lifeforce, and spirit, Cirra has imprinted on Molly as she also got some of the last pieces of a goddess. Thinks of Molly as either a potential older sister or mother, will develop from that mentality towards some form of kinship.

Offering Mirmulnir and Valin any concepts I have, either my own, or belonging to the Myriad Shield. Or favors to be called in down the line.

Arcran

2014-06-30, 08:14 PM

A Divine Wedding

Ambience Music (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ve-gIhA5WL8)

All of a sudden the entire of creation is filled with a shriek that lasts for several minuites "AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH HHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH HHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!" as Kar'Vode'an reaches a climax of passion and ecstasy.

PAP1: Bless the entire world to increase their libido, thus resulting in a massive population boost worldwide.

If the blood god had lust in his eyes, then what could be said as the Lady of Lust grabs her husbands and yells "Oh no you don't! You're going to ride me for each day that we were separated! Get over here!" she screams in a fit of ecstasy, as she goes for round two. Its not long before her screams are heard once more, and considering the two lovers were separated for aeons... this could last a while...

And so Artoran does his duty as a husband, going on for as long as his daughter-wife will have him, ignoring the sheer exhaustion that comes with it.

Eldamar

2014-07-01, 01:19 AM

Spire of Quark
Nazthiiros and Pickles

The great dragon extends his great serpentine neck, to gaze out above the city and all surrounding countryside, swiveling his head about to scan the horizon completely. If indeed their unknowingly claimed territory was becoming an island unto itself with only the enchanted, sun-fueled bridge connecting it to not only other lands, but potentially hostile lands, the goblins would need to expand their influence. The recent return of their first sea-going exploration vessel only solidified the need for expansion.

Kiirazek had taken to resting at the base of the Spire, finding extending and frequent flights too much of a strain. As the great silver wyrms return from their errand redirecting the crustacean intruders, Ziilthuras was the one to return to the Spire’s precipice.

“Instruct the Magisters that settlement beyond the barrier is now permitted. Express the need for these towns to remain small, hidden, and beyond sight of shore. Much to their loathing, our borders have expanded a hundred fold and it must be patrolled by foot.” Nazthiiros turns his unwavering blue gaze back to the Toraqi child, his neck descending to encircle him all while leaving keeping his good eye facing their guest. “I can, but I don’t. Since you’ll be staying with us for quite a while and nothing is truly free. What might a charming young Toraqi lad have to offer for his stay in our hidden city?”

Port of Klein

Sails of Autumn glided into port smoother than a silk glove, the five mast clipper and its goblin crew arriving with a flash of green flame off the port bow to announce herald their arrival. Goblins big and small, lithe and grotesque, scurry across the deck in open vests and rolled up pantaloons while the captain and his entourage of robed sorcerers bark orders from the upper decks. Their journey took a month sailing from Quark to Klein from the north. Their maps and sea charts greatly expanded by a team of cartographers.

The common rabble stank from weeks at sea, but the captain, cartographers, and sorcerers stood on deck dressed in finest. Captain Malvin in black leather boots, a navy blue wool jacket decorated with pockets and ornamental jewels. A frilled undershirt tucked into white overalls, with a tall hate of blue trimmed with gold with many fine feathers sticking out. The gathered sorcerers wore their iconic robes of various colors; blood-red, navy blue, lavender, dark green, and a couple shades of grey and black. All hooded with bits and baubles of precious stones covering their fingers and necks.

With the largest of their brutish crew extending the gangplank, the dignitaries of Quark descend to the pier as orders are given for their cargo to be hauled up. A wave of whines echoes throughout the crew as men get to work lugging up casks of dark wood and stacking them on deck. Captain Malvin stands with his hand resting upon the bulbous hilt of his finely crafted scimitar, awaiting Klein’s harbormaster.

Klein

With a fresh debt tucked away for another day, the rolling black cloud over Verenzano disperses to reveal the thundering storm that now linked the Prime Material to the Ethereal. The Lord of Secrets returns once more to the City of Knowledge, walking from around the corner of the guard house as the brown haired and silver eyed knight, marching to the battlements and gazing out upon what was meant to be a hostage party.

Eshkigal

2014-07-01, 11:51 AM

Path to Mt. Halcua
The Ut'Gal on watch were hiding, as they normally did, when the strangest visitors yet skitter out of the woods. Thousands of strange, crystalline creatures, on six spindly legs and with odd pincers, made of this odd pink stone, were bringing a bunch of odd, slithering people up towards the Mountain. For some strange reason, most of the crystal things kept shouting Wop over and over, though at the front there was a slithering person and one of the pink things, the taller slitherer, about five feet when raised up, looking skeptical at the small skitterer.

"-haven't talked wit'em yet, but trust us, they're here."

"I still do not see how anything could survive here. It is too hot, the air too dry. Far from the oceans and the majesty below, Clickclicktap!"

The crystal thing looks at its companion, apparently having gotten used to these troublesome talks.

"Says tha wop who we hadta teach how ta dig right, an' swim inna ooze, who still ain't realized life finds a way. Look, Larrahj, it ain't that odd-"

The two continue to squabble like annoyed neighbors while the Ut'Gal watch, standing below one of them...

Outside Klein

As Screechy the clown trips once again, beginning to curse and tell others they shall rue this day, yet again, he gives a loud shriek as he is tapped on the side by something sharp. The poor clown scurried away, begging again, only to have pincers gently lower his arms.

"Woah, buddy, I ain't gonna hurt ya. Ya looked like ya could use a drink."

As the clown stares at the crab, it waves over to the Ox trying to figure out where the elves went and the crabs taking the opportunity to get to the liquor and food without lines, the Veren shrugging and sitting at the tables with food and drinks as well. Also a rather confused looking girl in white robes who looked like she could eat more was being challenged to a drinking contest by more crabs.

"C'mon, we jus' lost mebbe fifty thousand guests, we got plenty fer ya, an' them, an' those lot. Ya look like ya could use somethin' ta eat."

ThePhantom

2014-07-01, 09:52 PM

Crabs

Hmm, now these are very strange guests, very strange. The Ut'Gal, wait and watch, seems like perhaps someone else is looking for them, but now is not quite the time to reveal themselves. Better to wait just a bit to see more of what these crabs want, and if the crabs are able to discover them.

Welcome to Mount Halcua

As the two groups arrive at the base of the Volcano, they see a towering mountain, with twelve channels of lava flowing out of a pagoda built into the crater of the mountain. Stairs and ornate entrances to caves cover most of the mountainside, and many small fires are placed throughout the paths. Music flows in many places, as most of the architecture was carved to create music as the wind blows, to keep the sounds in the air nearly eternally. At this base, is a large amphitheater, where the Ut'Gal, kobolds, and Toraq met and talk and other business. In this case however, the people of Halcua are gathered to judge those who come before them. Therefore, the seating is full of Ut'Gal, looking down at the visitors, some singing songs to the little ones; kobolds in their robes and masks watching these strangers, and a few Toraq, mostly the older and youngest, as most of the tribe were still off from the crusade against Aleru at this point. The focus of the amphitheater is on the guests as well as a trio of the three races: A large Ut'Gal, somewhat bowed in her age, a kobold with a red bird pattern on his mask, and an Toraq with a bird pattern of scars on his chest. However, to thoses who can see more clearly, among the Ut'Gal on the lower level is a figure with waving scarves around him. Faines is here and watching himself, through that isn't meant to be obvious.

Eshkigal

2014-07-02, 04:39 PM

Mount Halcua Approach
After a prolonged period of argument, the eel merfolk finally snaps.

"Look, ClickClicktap, unless you can give us proof we are leaving! This...this farce has gone too long, for some people you have not told us about! What makes them so important?!"

The crab looks at its taller companion and sighs.

"Arright, yer right, it ain't nice ta leave ya inna dark. The Cogbrain has made a few races. One fer tha ooze, one fer tha fire, one fer tha soil, one fer tha Reaper, mebbe more. Two live here, one given ta fire, the other an accident."

ClickClicktap then pokes an Ut'Gal in the knee.

"An' we've watched 'em from the Ooze long enough ta know what they look like when hiding. Come out, lil'siblings. Your eldest sibling race wishes ta say hi."

ThePhantom

2014-07-02, 05:58 PM

Mount Halcua Approach

And so, after being poked, the Ut'Gal turns from the wall, now there's enough information there to merit talking. Faines did tell of the other god who made them. He smiles at the group, not really noticing that he towers over the crabs and eel merfolk.

"Well, hello then. This has been a time for many visitors to Sacred Mount Halcua."

Eshkigal

2014-07-02, 07:01 PM

Mount Halcua
Larrahj flops back and away, the merfolk among them going pale and blanching at the sheer size of the Ut'Gal. Meanwhile, the crab nods, as other crabs seek out and tap the other Ut'Gal.

"That it has, brutha. As ya likely have heard, war brewed inna North. Gets people lookin' fer friends. But that ain't our river's concern. We have seen ya wit' tha others, an' figured now was good a time as any fer kin ta meet kin, an' ta get our buddies here a mite more sociable. See yer works, share what we got, help our littlest brothers tha kobolds out. Wouldja have us?"

ClickClicktap offers a claw as small wops resound along the valley, other crabs offering claw and pincers to their larger relatives.

ThePhantom

2014-07-02, 09:17 PM

Eldamar

2014-07-03, 12:41 AM

The Forge of Sparks
Kereth, Nika, Naer’Va, Mirmulnir

The empty black hood stares at Naer’Va. Despite lacking a head, let alone a face, the animated suit of armor manages to project an eerie selection of non-expression. This council was moving slowly, and time was of an essence. “Your thoughts, Plaguemother? My long laid strategy hinges upon your consent to redirect Thurlock’s invasion entirely upon Anval.”

The conversation within the Forge had slowed, and he needed focus. The God of Secrets was an inscrutable pit of knowledge, labyrinths of secrets, and wells of repressed memories of countless lives packed together into one consciousness. An invisible, yet wholly black mist kept tucked away within a solid shell. Many things plagued his mind, but not all of these troubles were his originally. That damned spinning Madness did something, and forced one of his oldest troubles to light.

“I have conceived, in my contemplation, an artifact that will change mortal events. Great objects of power that will bring mortals together, to facilitate cooperation.” Reaching into his own hood, deep into his chest plate, Mirmulnir withdraws a handful of knotted clumps of white metal. Holding them in plain view for those gathered, his echoed voice fades to its usual volume. “I will strike the Prime Material with my own metal, and inspire mortal craftsmen myself to forge my handiwork."

Darting flashes of faded light, striking the furious mass of red-eyed darkness. Like great swooping birds and falling stars pelting the long dead evil. All resemblance of their mortal form was lost to them, and all that remained were little more than wraiths, shapeless apparitions caught between two domineering wills. Their conversion was simple, their wrath already actively seeking an escape. An escape that he represented.

The Plane Between Planes was yet new, the path to the Soul Fields yet newer. Countless souls already waylaid on their journey to the afterlife and more yet wandering, or disappearing, from the lighted path. It was an imposed detour from his return to the Fields, a detour that garnered his curiosity. The desolate wastes brimming with lost souls, listless and confused. Progenitor forbade the meddling with his charge, and the warning was taken to heart.

“I await your thoughts, my kin.” Mirmulnir lays back into his throne, head slightly bowed. The chunks of raw mithril still grasped tightly in his metal gauntlet as it hangs off the Arachne carved armrest. Him, and perhaps the others, oblivious to the strange rippling and folding of space behind his ornate, and oversized chair. An abnormality begins to take shape, siphoning, unknowingly, from the God of Secrets, Magic, Knowledge, and Undeath himself.

Red eyes. Glowing bloody orbs set into the face of death itself robed in a cloak blacker than the void. A true demon, its heart filled with malice and pride, with a will to only inflict pain. Betrayed by the poor souls it tortured for so long, stripping them of everything but the most fundamental bundles of energy they were. Another of his father’s sons, a twisted reflection of not only Progenitor, but of himself. Without hesitation, a silver-trimmed fists punches straight through the Great Evil’s chest, and a twisting mass of black smoke clutched between pointed fingers emerges from the being’s back.

Abomination Above Abominations, Soul Thief, Malice Given Form, ZARCHESH.

The adversarial relationship between Madness and Knowledge was old, stemming from the first interaction between them. Neither bereft of the other, yet diametrically opposed. The Fool’s love unsettled something deep within him, uncovered a long dormant memory that brought forth Truth. The Whispering Wind birthed of the First Deicide, was his creation, despite arising from his brothers corpse. Mirmulnir’s contempt for his accidental creation was absolute.

But… The lengths by which were taken out of desperation by Madness for Her. A foolish, arrogant, melodramatic godling who dared assault not only Progenitor and the Plaguemother, but HIM. Heir to her Father’s realm who sowed unknowing strife and brought forth catastrophe unto Being? She was a danger and her meddling required containment. Her death was a blessing to all of Creation, but Mehket’s reaction for his first beloved, the lamentation and effort to preserve what he could so as not to lose her to Oblivion…

Starting AP: 7AP/1PAP
3AP Create Magical Concept: Palantiri - Enchanted orbs of mithril and base materials that allow for instantaneous communication between sibling orbs, and possibly scrying by the most powerful of will and magic. Closed concept.
Ending AP: 5AP/0PAP

Eshkigal

2014-07-03, 01:15 AM

Mount Halcua Path

The Ut'Gal thinks for a bit, a deep humming noise coming from it. The other Ut'Gal turn and greet the crabs as they point them out.

"I would, but I don't speak for all the Ut'Gal. You would have to go to Mount Halcua to get their decision, through helping the younger ones is a fine thing. You'll likely to be accepted through."

"We can respect that, can't we?"

There is a chorus of Wops as the crabs give their assent, and the merfolk still try getting used to the idea that yes, fiery places could be settled. ClickClicktap nods to the Ut'Gal.

"We'll see ya on tha Mount, then. C'MON, YA LOT! LAST ONE THERE'S A STEAMED SHELL!"

The crabs begin pouring out of the river, charging with their mighty Wop! for the top of the mountain as the merfolk stare at the crazy little crabs, a mere 600,000 strong in their bumrush before the twenty merfolk chase after, begging for them to wait up. Meanwhile, the Ut'Gal just smile, and shake their heads. Crazy little bastards.

Toxic Mind

2014-07-03, 01:32 AM

The Toraq Reaper

Ioal and Daveth walked the back ways of the universe. It seemed so long ago that Ioal had agreed to take on the Toraq soul as her apprentice. So much had changed in the world since then, so many things were different. Gods had risen and fallen, born and died, cities were raised and crumbled under the weight of their own decadence, or beneath the heavy tread of other's soles. Daveth had played his part well, putting countless wraiths and spectres to rest, ferrying souls without complaint, and over time Ioal had seen a change come over him. Gone was the brash, impudent soul that she had taken on, and in its place, a calm and collected being, who was, if Ioal was honest with herself, far deadlier for the change. Before his skills in battle had been formidable, but were more of a cudgel like the rest of his race, wielded to inflict a great deal of damage, and ignorant of anything in its' way. Now It was a surgeon's scalpel, excising corruption with brutal efficiency. So Ioal turns to her student, and simply says "You are ready. Come." Once, Daveth would have been excited. Once he would have shouted and thrown things to express his eagerness. Now, he simply nodded, though he did allow a ghost of the old smile he once possessed to cross his face. So the two departed for the Soul Fields.

When they arrived, Kereth was waiting. This was an occasion he had been waiting for, hoping for. Since the dawn of their creation, Reapers were born of the souls of Wayfinders, denied the cleansing of the Lantern and brought into new existence. Kereth had been watching Ioal closely, to see if her strange project could bear fruit. And it seemed it had. For from the soul of one of the most violent and least serene races had come something that resembled a Reaper in all but Kereth's Lantern filling it. Today, that would be rectified. "Toraq do not kneel, and I will not ask it of you, though it is traditional. You are yourself, now and always, and though the winds of time will attempt to scour you from existence, you will not fade. Forever you will be a beacon to mortals, a shield against that which is beyond their ken, and a guide to those most in need. Daveth of the Toraq, you have proven yourself worthy of joining those tasked with travelling this existence, forever bonded to service, forever walking. You are a candle in front of the sun, a whisper in a hurricane, you exist but are never seen, never noticed." Kereth pauses, and looks the soul in the eye. Daveth had changed, and even Kereth could see his soul, power borrowed or not, shined as brightly as the woman's beside him did. Ioal had done well. "Daveth. Will you serve?"

"Yes." At the word, the Lantern flares to life once more. Tendrils of light reach out, enfolding the Toraq soul, rebuilding, renewing. And what remains when the Light fades seems little different from what had once stood, save to the eyes of those that saw the spirit world. For no longer was Daveth's power borrowed from another, but his in its' own right. A Lantern of his own burns within him, tinged with red, befitting a son of the god of War. A true Reaper, in every sense of the word, but always defined by his heritage. His birth was not of Kereth, and the Lantern knew this. It gifted him with power, but would not burn away what made him truly himself. Kereth takes the new Reaper by the shoulders. "Find your father, and show him what you have become. When you are satisfied, return." Daveth nods and, in a flash of light, is gone.

Somewhere in the Void

Daveth can feel Artoran nearby, but does not seek him out. It is better to wait for the god that to disturb him. Any Toraq knows this, and whatever else he may be, Daveth is Toraq. "Father. I am waiting." he calls out to the Void, and stands, waiting for Artoran.

The Meeting Hall

Kereth eyes his son, watching the past play across his mind. "This idea will further communication among the disparate people of the world. A noble goal. Perhaps placing them in Wayfarer Shrines would allow those travelling to communicate to their cities of origin, or their destination." Kereth does not smile, for this is hardly the place, but inside he is pleased. Mirmulnir has always been a wild card, and to see him embrace the tenants of the Mechanicus, even in part, was warmth to Kereth's heart. "As for this war. I would prefer to avoid hostilities altogether, but that option may rapidly be closing on us. If this is what you all believe is best, I will go along. Still, I would not have us strike the first blow. Yet these preparations are not remiss, for if our foes do strike against us, our response must be swift and decisive. We cannot allow any in this world to cause unjust suffering without recourse."

Riloaf and the Reaper

Riloaf had traveled for two days North of Khemet when he was stopped. The Pharess had been kind enough, but given his purpose in the city, Riloaf did not wish to deal with her unfairly by bringing possible retribution down on her people for his actions. So he ventured into the Northern Desert on his own, only Allareth to keep him company. On the evening of the second day, he had made his campfire when the stranger sat beside him. Riloaf never felt any threat from the man, despite his circumstances, though Allareth huffed once from Riloaf's back at the smell of this new intruder. The man turned to him. "Your mission is done. You have your vengeance, the one called Garrell lies dead. Now you must turn back, for to stay is a grave crime to the elves, and they will kill you if they find you. I will give you a gift to help you on this way." Keth places his hand on Riloaf's forehead, though his face remains shrouded. Riloaf's mind is opened, and he sees a sudden solution to the problem that has faced ooze dragons since their creations. Flight. With the help of a Wayfinder bonded together as one, the ooze dragon could mold its own body to achieve what was once thought impossible. When Riloaf opened his eyes, the man was gone. He shared his knowledge with Allareth, and the two resolved to attempt this new feat in the morning. Despite their loss of vengeance, the possibility of flight intrigued Allareth so much that the ooze dragon was barely angry. That would come later.

If you want to interact with Riloaf in the desert, this is your last chance. He's gone come sunrise.

1PAP: Bless - Dragon Chosen (Flight) - Using their combined power, a Dragon Chosen pair can shape the ooze dragon's body to allow it to achieve flight. The wingspan of such a morphed dragon is massive, and it can be seen from a great distance. However, the ooze dragons are fast, and just as deadly. This can only be achieved by Dragon Chosen however, as a lone ooze dragon does not have the will or cunning to hold such a shape.

Dragonsage

2014-07-03, 12:49 PM

~Akora's beginnings~

From within the abnormality forming behind Mirmulnir, a concentration of thoughts and emotions long since repressed by the god of secrets begin to take form. '...Must save...save..' The thoughts began having thoughts of their own as the vague form starts to take on a more defined shape of a human fetus that seems to pulsate and grow with each passing moment. 'So sad...' The thoughts started to develop a feminine voice as a series of memory flashes race through the newly developing mind. Memories of Mirmulnir trying to assist Mekhet in his desperate attempt to preserve his lover in anyway they could. 'Oh no..' The fetus, now a small child, seemed to be crying as it witnessed the memory of the passing Mekhet's lover.

The child starts to pick up more speed in it's growth as more and more repressed memories flashed into it, eventually growing into a grown woman. 'Why?' She began to question some of the very hidden secrets that form. 'Mazes...carefully crafted to keep the truth hidden deep under the surface. So many secrets..' Tattooed runes begin to appear on her limbs and give off a glow as she opens her eyes before pushing her way out through the abnormality on Mirmulnir. 'Too many secrets... so many lies. I am Akora and I say..'

"No more!" The maiden goddess gasped for breath after she spoke her first words after bursting from the rift that had gone undetected on Mirmulnir's back. As she emerged from the from her ætherial womb, her hair shimmered from between patterns of silver and black until they seemed to have fixed on a single style. Although if observed close enough, one could see that the colors where shifting very slightly.

Akora now laid on the floor by Mirmulnir's throne, naked and trying to adjust herself to being more than just a mere collection of thoughts tucked away like a forgotten book on a self. Once she managed to mentally gather herself, she looked up to where see fell from to see a familiar face...or lack there of, before she pulled herself onto her feet and moved closer to Mirmulnir's side. "Originator?" She, almost on impulse, rested her head against her Progenitor's arm. "Why are there so many secrets kept hidden?"

Shmee

2014-07-03, 03:39 PM

The Strange Chronicles of the Mysterious Goblin
Chapter 2: A Feast for Fools

Skreechy had ran all the way to the walls with the rabid horde on his tail. Even as he crouches against the wall, and shrieks some more, he manages to scream "STOP!" in desperation as a puddle of vile liquid forms beneath his feet. He remains silent for a few moments, expecting his end. However when he dares to open his eyes he notices that the horde had stopped. Naturally Skreechy is once again blissfully unaware of the divine intervention causing the Galvastians to regain their senses, therefore there could only be one logical conclusion...

"THAT'S RIGHT! OBEY ME PATHETIC HUMANS! MWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!" he cackles to the heavens, as he approaches the bruliest of the Galvastians, still confused as to what had happened. "INSOLENT HUMAN!!... next time you touch me like that... YOUR PUNISHEMNT SHALL BE LEGENDARY! he screams as he gives the Human a swift kick on his shin. Naturally what follows next is the Galvastian giving the Goblin a good beat down.

Later, Skreechy is walking the streets of Klein with an inflated face as me mumbles to himself "Nogoodsunnofagungonnaripyouanewoneandshineitsidewa ysbeforeshovingitupyour..." when all of a sudden...

Outside Klein

As Screechy the clown trips once again, beginning to curse and tell others they shall rue this day, yet again, he gives a loud shriek as he is tapped on the side by something sharp. The poor clown scurried away, begging again, only to have pincers gently lower his arms.

"Woah, buddy, I ain't gonna hurt ya. Ya looked like ya could use a drink."

As the clown stares at the crab, it waves over to the Ox trying to figure out where the elves went and the crabs taking the opportunity to get to the liquor and food without lines, the Veren shrugging and sitting at the tables with food and drinks as well. Also a rather confused looking girl in white robes who looked like she could eat more was being challenged to a drinking contest by more crabs.

"C'mon, we jus' lost mebbe fifty thousand guests, we got plenty fer ya, an' them, an' those lot. Ya look like ya could use somethin' ta eat."

Skreechy's eyes narrow suspiciously, and begins measuring the crab from head to toe... literally. "WHY MUST THIS BE?!" He screams to the heavens while falling to his knees, realizing that he was in fact shorter than the crab. As he is lead to the table, he quickly scurries onto the table and begins shoving several pieces of meat into his pockets and pouches.

When offered a drink he screams "GET THAT OUTTA MY FACE!" he reaches into one of his pouches "The only thing I drink is..." and produces a glass jar with some foul brown liquid "KAWFEE! THE STRONGER THE BETTER! No seriously with this stuff screw resurrection and the afterlife, this is strong enough to wake the dead... AND I DRINK 20 OF THESE A DAY TO HELP ME CALM DOWN!" To prove his point Skreechy knocks back the vile liquid before proceeding to throw the jar behind his back, not realizing or caring that it landed on an unfortunate passerby, injuring them.

Arcran

2014-07-03, 11:03 PM

Of Boys and Dragons

Spire of Quark
Nazthiiros and Pickles

The great dragon extends his great serpentine neck, to gaze out above the city and all surrounding countryside, swiveling his head about to scan the horizon completely. If indeed their unknowingly claimed territory was becoming an island unto itself with only the enchanted, sun-fueled bridge connecting it to not only other lands, but potentially hostile lands, the goblins would need to expand their influence. The recent return of their first sea-going exploration vessel only solidified the need for expansion.

Kiirazek had taken to resting at the base of the Spire, finding extending and frequent flights too much of a strain. As the great silver wyrms return from their errand redirecting the crustacean intruders, Ziilthuras was the one to return to the Spire’s precipice.

“Instruct the Magisters that settlement beyond the barrier is now permitted. Express the need for these towns to remain small, hidden, and beyond sight of shore. Much to their loathing, our borders have expanded a hundred fold and it must be patrolled by foot.” Nazthiiros turns his unwavering blue gaze back to the Toraqi child, his neck descending to encircle him all while leaving keeping his good eye facing their guest. “I can, but I don’t. Since you’ll be staying with us for quite a while and nothing is truly free. What might a charming young Toraqi lad have to offer for his stay in our hidden city?”

Pickles ponders that question. He had his bow, but he couldn't share that. That belonged to the Toraq. He had his Blood Weapons, but he couldn't share that. Only Toraq could do that. He could teach them to fight but no, that would make Kalux mad. However, there was one thing that the child could offer, one that the older Toraq sang about around the nightfires.

"I can protect you!" Pickles says eagerly, his miniature bow appearing in his hand. "All you have to do is give me pickles. Lots of pickles," he quickly clarifies. He didn't want just one jar of the things, he wanted as many as he could eat!

The Toraq Reaper

Ioal and Daveth walked the back ways of the universe. It seemed so long ago that Ioal had agreed to take on the Toraq soul as her apprentice. So much had changed in the world since then, so many things were different. Gods had risen and fallen, born and died, cities were raised and crumbled under the weight of their own decadence, or beneath the heavy tread of other's soles. Daveth had played his part well, putting countless wraiths and spectres to rest, ferrying souls without complaint, and over time Ioal had seen a change come over him. Gone was the brash, impudent soul that she had taken on, and in its place, a calm and collected being, who was, if Ioal was honest with herself, far deadlier for the change. Before his skills in battle had been formidable, but were more of a cudgel like the rest of his race, wielded to inflict a great deal of damage, and ignorant of anything in its' way. Now It was a surgeon's scalpel, excising corruption with brutal efficiency. So Ioal turns to her student, and simply says "You are ready. Come." Once, Daveth would have been excited. Once he would have shouted and thrown things to express his eagerness. Now, he simply nodded, though he did allow a ghost of the old smile he once possessed to cross his face. So the two departed for the Soul Fields.

When they arrived, Kereth was waiting. This was an occasion he had been waiting for, hoping for. Since the dawn of their creation, Reapers were born of the souls of Wayfinders, denied the cleansing of the Lantern and brought into new existence. Kereth had been watching Ioal closely, to see if her strange project could bear fruit. And it seemed it had. For from the soul of one of the most violent and least serene races had come something that resembled a Reaper in all but Kereth's Lantern filling it. Today, that would be rectified. "Toraq do not kneel, and I will not ask it of you, though it is traditional. You are yourself, now and always, and though the winds of time will attempt to scour you from existence, you will not fade. Forever you will be a beacon to mortals, a shield against that which is beyond their ken, and a guide to those most in need. Daveth of the Toraq, you have proven yourself worthy of joining those tasked with travelling this existence, forever bonded to service, forever walking. You are a candle in front of the sun, a whisper in a hurricane, you exist but are never seen, never noticed." Kereth pauses, and looks the soul in the eye. Daveth had changed, and even Kereth could see his soul, power borrowed or not, shined as brightly as the woman's beside him did. Ioal had done well. "Daveth. Will you serve?"

"Yes." At the word, the Lantern flares to life once more. Tendrils of light reach out, enfolding the Toraq soul, rebuilding, renewing. And what remains when the Light fades seems little different from what had once stood, save to the eyes of those that saw the spirit world. For no longer was Daveth's power borrowed from another, but his in its' own right. A Lantern of his own burns within him, tinged with red, befitting a son of the god of War. A true Reaper, in every sense of the word, but always defined by his heritage. His birth was not of Kereth, and the Lantern knew this. It gifted him with power, but would not burn away what made him truly himself. Kereth takes the new Reaper by the shoulders. "Find your father, and show him what you have become. When you are satisfied, return." Daveth nods and, in a flash of light, is gone.

Somewhere in the Void

Daveth can feel Artoran nearby, but does not seek him out. It is better to wait for the god that to disturb him. Any Toraq knows this, and whatever else he may be, Daveth is Toraq. "Father. I am waiting." he calls out to the Void, and stands, waiting for Artoran.

Unfortunately for Daveth, Artoran is still quite busy consummating his marriage. Over the shrieks of his new bridge Artoran can't quite hear his long-lost child although, when the deed is done, he will be more than happy to come to him.

Those of the Wilderness

Once every hundred days it happened. The sky shone red and all that came with it.

Some were lucky, hiding within cities to escape the wrath of the beasts. The great stone walls held quite well, as long as none within the walls were infected. The, of course, all hell broke loose.

Farmer Johan lived perhaps three days away from the great walled city of Klein. Most of the other farmers had the good sense to make the trek to the city for the relative safety provided by the walls and guards. They didn't expect to ever find a Red Beast yet, while unlikely, most agreed it was better to be safe than sorry.

And so Johan sat upon a chair, a long spear tipped in silver held in his old hands as he sat calmly on his porch. His wife and two sons were inside, hiding within a cellar that Johan had dug out all those long years ago when he had first built the stone cottage. He'd lived here for three decades and yet, in all that time, had never seen a Red Beast.

Of course, when he heard the vicious howl in the distance to old man instantly snapped awake, no longer dozing. He gripped the spear, his old training as a city guard kicking in to some extent although that had been many years ago. He knew he couldn't beat one, no single man could, but perhaps he could scare it off with his silver.

And then he saw it as it slowly crested the hill. A great tentacled mass, covered in massive spines. Johan had heard terrible things about the tentacled ones, particularly when it came to fighting them. One like a real animal might resemble it somewhat, making it possible to fight them. A tentacled one though? Nothing on the surface fought like them, making them almost impossible to prepare for.

The Beast moved closer, covering yards with a single stride of his long arms. The man whispers a prayer to Nika, praying to the Goddess of Justice to grant him the strength for this final fight.

And the he hears the other howls and loses all hope.

One, two, three, four more cries join that of the tentacled Red Beast and four more come loping over a hill. One was like a wolf crossed with a man, easily standing at twice the height of a normal person. The others were assorted mixes of spines, teeth and long tendrils, not resembling any one creature in particular.

The new ones close far more rapidly, bounding forward yards at a time. The old farmer takes a deep breath and prepares to charge the horde for one final, futile assault...

When the wolf leaps upon the tentacled mass, roaring and tearing. Its three companions soon join it, tearing into the Red Beast even as it continues to struggle towards Jorah.

In a few brief seconds it is over, the tentacled beasts body mangled beyond even the healing a Red Beast possessed. In his shock Jorah notices he dropped his spear. He bends down to pick it up and, when he comes back up, the Red Beasts are gone.

5 AP

Create Organization: The Forsaken Tribe (https://ancientsofthevoid.obsidianportal.com/wikis/the-forsaken-tribe)

Eshkigal

2014-07-04, 02:08 PM

Klein
The jar shatters, and a few dozen voices echo the same sentiment.

"Watch where you throw things. Us dammit, why have none of the gods taught their mortals how to make a drink that can get us drunk..."

Skreechy stops, and slowly turns to see the other reason Ox had yet to go in. A set of gears and cogs of shifting form, shape, material, and function keep adjusting as it downs a refilling keg into myriad mouths, the Verens and Crabs giving him a wide berth as the toraq sit upon his many coiled gears and cogs, trying to figure out the best way to cheer a sad god up. Mostly because it wasn't right letting others be sad alone, or drink alone, partially because he might do something stupid like make all weapons, including blood weapons, sapient, ambulatory things even the toraq have no control over if his mind wanders in bad ways. Best to have someone trying to keep him away from that sort of thought. In a small pseudopod, Mekhet twirls the little luckless goblin's bottle, tossing it up and down.

"Now, who are you, little goblin, and why do you throw your litter at a god? Furthermore, you know this stuff makes you more hyper, right?"

Darklady2831

2014-07-04, 03:56 PM

The Forge of Sparks
Kereth, Nika, Naer’Va, Mirmulnir

The empty black hood stares at Naer’Va. Despite lacking a head, let alone a face, the animated suit of armor manages to project an eerie selection of non-expression. This council was moving slowly, and time was of an essence. “Your thoughts, Plaguemother? My long laid strategy hinges upon your consent to redirect Thurlock’s invasion entirely upon Anval.”

The conversation within the Forge had slowed, and he needed focus. The God of Secrets was an inscrutable pit of knowledge, labyrinths of secrets, and wells of repressed memories of countless lives packed together into one consciousness. An invisible, yet wholly black mist kept tucked away within a solid shell. Many things plagued his mind, but not all of these troubles were his originally. That damned spinning Madness did something, and forced one of his oldest troubles to light.

“I have conceived, in my contemplation, an artifact that will change mortal events. Great objects of power that will bring mortals together, to facilitate cooperation.” Reaching into his own hood, deep into his chest plate, Mirmulnir withdraws a handful of knotted clumps of white metal. Holding them in plain view for those gathered, his echoed voice fades to its usual volume. “I will strike the Prime Material with my own metal, and inspire mortal craftsmen myself to forge my handiwork."

“I await your thoughts, my kin.” Mirmulnir lays back into his throne, head slightly bowed. The chunks of raw mithril still grasped tightly in his metal gauntlet as it hangs off the Arachne carved armrest. Him, and perhaps the others, oblivious to the strange rippling and folding of space behind his ornate, and oversized chair. An abnormality begins to take shape, siphoning, unknowingly, from the God of Secrets, Magic, Knowledge, and Undeath himself.

The Meeting Hall

Kereth eyes his son, watching the past play across his mind. "This idea will further communication among the disparate people of the world. A noble goal. Perhaps placing them in Wayfarer Shrines would allow those travelling to communicate to their cities of origin, or their destination." Kereth does not smile, for this is hardly the place, but inside he is pleased. Mirmulnir has always been a wild card, and to see him embrace the tenants of the Mechanicus, even in part, was warmth to Kereth's heart. "As for this war. I would prefer to avoid hostilities altogether, but that option may rapidly be closing on us. If this is what you all believe is best, I will go along. Still, I would not have us strike the first blow. Yet these preparations are not remiss, for if our foes do strike against us, our response must be swift and decisive. We cannot allow any in this world to cause unjust suffering without recourse."
The Meeting Hall of the Forge

Naer'Va steepled her hands, resting her elbows on the table. The dark metal of the gauntlets clanked as her armor settled after the movement. The Goddess of Vermin lowered her head in contemplation. After a few moments, she spoke. "My children are not servants to their gods. They follow but one order. The one order I ever gave, the one I spoke to them at their birth. 'Thrive'." She pauses for a moment. "I will not permit the gods to dictate the lives of mortals, directly or indirectly. You do not have my permission to order my children around, Mirmulnir. I ask you to respect my decision."

She then reaches out, touching one of the orbs Mirmulnir had produced. She examines it briefly, then nods. "I am with Kereth on this matter. I do not wish this to escalate to war in the mortal world... which is why I will provide an immortal force to fight our battles... the Fiends of the Plaguelands view me as their mother and queen. They do what they will, but they follow my words carefully. If it is required, the Fiends of the Plaguelands will fight in the name of the Mechanicus." She looks Mirmulnir in the eye. "And I do hope you share your metal with my children, and with me... for I will share mine with those of you who ask it."

Shmee

2014-07-04, 05:24 PM

A Divine Wedding

And so Artoran does his duty as a husband, going on for as long as his daughter-wife will have him, ignoring the sheer exhaustion that comes with it.

Thus did the god of blood and slaughter take his daughter to be his wife. No ceremony was needed but the oath of carnal passion the likes the world has never seen, nor will ever see again. For true to her word, Kar'Vode'an had her father take her once for every day that they had been apart, and true to the reputation that was earned through countless bloodshed, Artoran demonstrated his unrelenting stamina, until the scream of the two lovers were heard constantly throughout creation, as the mortal populations dramatically increases across the world, influenced by this divine passion.

Perhaps it lasted for a day... perhaps a month, a year a century of even an eon. Finally the two lovers separate from one another, having spent all their might upon one another. Artoran's back seemed as if he was massaged with a rake, while Kar'Vode'an seemed none the worse for wear, although her perfect skin is marred with bites and bruises. Both of them would spend the next few centuries walking funny. Finally as the two finish, Kar'Vode'an locks her gaze with that of her husbands, as she takes Artoran's hand and gently places it on her stomach.

"My Beloved... I'm expecting..." she says as she gives a terrifying leer that would even send a god's hair standing on their end. Who knew what spawn was forming within that womb?

For while other lesser gods would form their children through a variety of ways... some would be created as a thought... others would be molded into their creators form of perfection. However Kar'Vode'an would have none of that. What ever was in her womb would be born with a natural birth, for its parents were none other than the gods of war and love... passion made incarnate, and thus there was no doubt in the goddess' mind that even if nature was left to take its course, then their child would be nothing less than perfect.

And so Kar'Vode'an let her child grow within her womb. No one can truly tell how much time had passed, for in a god's mind time has a completely different meaning from mortals. Regardless, she patiently await, for the time that the fruit of her passion would finally blossom. It may have been centuries... or perhaps it may have been two years as the Elves count it, but when the birth pangs came, Kar'Vode'an looks at her father "Beloved... it is time..." as she lies down in front of her husband and prepares to give birth. "... and you shall stay by my side to witness it!" she commands as she goes into labor.

Perhaps her beloved had been in countless battles, but this time this was a battle that Artoran could not take part of. This was something that his wife would face on her own, and no weapon, armor or battle technique he knew could be of any use. As his wife grits her teeth in pain and lets out a roar as terrible and fierce as any that Artoran had ever shouted as she begins to push.

The goddess gives another scream of pain, heard across creation before the sound of crying is heard. And thus Kar'Vode'an holds their son in her hands, still panting heavily from the ordeal "Behold! Our son comes into this world naked, bloody and screaming! He is truly the son of his father!" she says giving an evil smile. Even as she speaks her radiance seems to be brighter than ever. "A name!" she declares. "We must name our son!"

I know that Sein is just a baby at this point... but hey... he's a god, so feel free to have him speak and evolve in any way you see fit.

Klein
The jar shatters, and a few dozen voices echo the same sentiment.

"Watch where you throw things. Us dammit, why have none of the gods taught their mortals how to make a drink that can get us drunk..."

Skreechy stops, and slowly turns to see the other reason Ox had yet to go in. A set of gears and cogs of shifting form, shape, material, and function keep adjusting as it downs a refilling keg into myriad mouths, the Verens and Crabs giving him a wide berth as the toraq sit upon his many coiled gears and cogs, trying to figure out the best way to cheer a sad god up. Mostly because it wasn't right letting others be sad alone, or drink alone, partially because he might do something stupid like make all weapons, including blood weapons, sapient, ambulatory things even the toraq have no control over if his mind wanders in bad ways. Best to have someone trying to keep him away from that sort of thought. In a small pseudopod, Mekhet twirls the little luckless goblin's bottle, tossing it up and down.

"Now, who are you, little goblin, and why do you throw your litter at a god? Furthermore, you know this stuff makes you more hyper, right?"

"Who am I? Who am I? WHO THE HELL DO YOU THINK I AM? I AM SKREECHY THE GREAT!" Screams the Goblin at the god as if that name was supposed to mean anything. The other people gasp. In all their years they had never heard of a mortal daring to talk back to a god... except those who were already blessed... but this little psychotic Goblin seemed to have a few screws in his head loose as he jumps up and down in frustration that no one cared about his existence. Not even the gods.

"And KAWFEE doesn't get you hyper! You know who used to say that? My dear old pappi... my dear old pappi used to say "Skreechy... Skreechy my boy... you will never amount to anything!" And so I proved him wrong... BY RUNNING AWAY TO JOIN THE CIRCUS... and stabbing him in the knee. YOU THINK MY PAPPI WOULD BE MORE OPEN TO THE IDEA OF A GOBLIN THESPIAN! But nooooo... my father never loved me!" the Goblin collapses on the table in sorrow as he sobs about his past

"DAMN YOU!" He screams at Mekhet while pointing an accusing finger. "NOW I NEED ANOTHER POT OF KAWFEE TO MAKE ME FORGET!" he screams as he grabs another pot and beings to down his sorrows.

Arcran

2014-07-04, 06:41 PM

A Long Time Gone

Thus did the god of blood and slaughter take his daughter to be his wife. No ceremony was needed but the oath of carnal passion the likes the world has never seen, nor will ever see again. For true to her word, Kar'Vode'an had her father take her once for every day that they had been apart, and true to the reputation that was earned through countless bloodshed, Artoran demonstrated his unrelenting stamina, until the scream of the two lovers were heard constantly throughout creation, as the mortal populations dramatically increases across the world, influenced by this divine passion.

Perhaps it lasted for a day... perhaps a month, a year a century of even an eon. Finally the two lovers separate from one another, having spent all their might upon one another. Artoran's back seemed as if he was massaged with a rake, while Kar'Vode'an seemed none the worse for wear, although her perfect skin is marred with bites and bruises. Both of them would spend the next few centuries walking funny. Finally as the two finish, Kar'Vode'an locks her gaze with that of her husbands, as she takes Artoran's hand and gently places it on her stomach.

"My Beloved... I'm expecting..." she says as she gives a terrifying leer that would even send a god's hair standing on their end. Who knew what spawn was forming within that womb?

For while other lesser gods would form their children through a variety of ways... some would be created as a thought... others would be molded into their creators form of perfection. However Kar'Vode'an would have none of that. What ever was in her womb would be born with a natural birth, for its parents were none other than the gods of war and love... passion made incarnate, and thus there was no doubt in the goddess' mind that even if nature was left to take its course, then their child would be nothing less than perfect.

And so Kar'Vode'an let her child grow within her womb. No one can truly tell how much time had passed, for in a god's mind time has a completely different meaning from mortals. Regardless, she patiently await, for the time that the fruit of her passion would finally blossom. It may have been centuries... or perhaps it may have been two years as the Elves count it, but when the birth pangs came, Kar'Vode'an looks at her father "Beloved... it is time..." as she lies down in front of her husband and prepares to give birth. "... and you shall stay by my side to witness it!" she commands as she goes into labor.

Perhaps her beloved had been in countless battles, but this time this was a battle that Artoran could not take part of. This was something that his wife would face on her own, and no weapon, armor or battle technique he knew could be of any use. As his wife grits her teeth in pain and lets out a roar as terrible and fierce as any that Artoran had ever shouted as she begins to push.

The goddess gives another scream of pain, heard across creation before the sound of crying is heard. And thus Kar'Vode'an holds their son in her hands, still panting heavily from the ordeal "Behold! Our son comes into this world naked, bloody and screaming! He is truly the son of his father!" she says giving an evil smile. Even as she speaks her radiance seems to be brighter than ever. "A name!" she declares. "We must name our son!"

I know that Sein is just a baby at this point... but hey... he's a god, so feel free to have him speak and evolve in any way you see fit.

Most gods would likely have looked at the squalling baby with some small bit of joy, especially when it so closely resembled him. Most would be glad to see their bride with a newborn child.

Of course, most gods had not pumped out children by accident like some sort of divine machine.

"Another damned kid?" he shouts, clearly enraged. "Why is it everything I do makes one? Hit a wall! Kid. Pass out! Two kids. Try to make people to fight! Two more! And now I frack my wife and get another child?" Artoran says, his rage building.

Of course, the God of War couldn't just take his rage out on his newborn child and his wife. "Name him whatever the hell you want."

And so, Artoran storms off, finding his way towards the Red Moon, idly sitting upon it as he seethes at the injustice of it all.

Then a small cry comes to the Blood God. The cry of a Toraq and yet, not one on the mortal world. That alone would be an odd occurrence.

"Come forth Toraq," Artoran says simply, planting Drinker into the surface of the Red Moon like some sort of flag.

Feel free to have Daveth come!

Shmee

2014-07-04, 07:05 PM

A Long Time Gone

Most gods would likely have looked at the squalling baby with some small bit of joy, especially when it so closely resembled him. Most would be glad to see their bride with a newborn child.

Of course, most gods had not pumped out children by accident like some sort of divine machine.

"Another damned kid?" he shouts, clearly enraged. "Why is it everything I do makes one? Hit a wall! Kid. Pass out! Two kids. Try to make people to fight! Two more! And now I frack my wife and get another child?" Artoran says, his rage building.

Of course, the God of War couldn't just take his rage out on his newborn child and his wife. "Name him whatever the hell you want."

And so, Artoran storms off, finding his way towards the Red Moon, idly sitting upon it as he seethes at the injustice of it all.

[/SPOILER]

Kar'Vode'an watches as her husband storms off. She raises an eyebrow considering that their lovemaking marathon lasted perhaps for ages, it should not come as a surprise that she ended up birthing their child. Still she supposed the Lord of War was more accustomed to taking lives, rather than creating it. "Fret not my son." she says placing her finger on the child's mouth, silencing its cries "Our Father is crossed because once again my attention will not be upon him for a while. He cannot be blamed. Now then... what shall you name yourself?"

As Artoran had not given their son a name, then he would decide one for himself.

Eshkigal

2014-07-04, 07:06 PM

Rings of Chaos
"Of all the ways you have had kids, I thought that would be the least surprising, Artoran."

The rings around the planet begin opening eyes, staring at both of them.

"That was the most uncomfortable time of my existence. I mean...look, I give you guys a tree, it's fulla worlds...did you really have to do it right here?"

As the babe cries, Aunt/Uncle Mekhet's Rings of Chaos begin putting a crib together, also pull a cosmic rattle together from stray meteors and pleasant dreams while arranging a few branches over the crib to rotate and spin in the vastness of space.

Yes, Mekhet is his rings and the plane. He has been very uncomfortable for the past however long. Yes it did make his day worse.

Outside Klein

The god looks at the goblin, not angry, but that dangerous gleam back.

"Then perhaps you should give me reason to care, Skreechy."

A tendril wraps around the goblin's stomach, lifting the little thing to the topmost eyes as the aberrant god looks at him. In a voice like sin and vice, a voice like greed and envy and pride made manifest, he addresses the little goblin.

"Why, dear boy, should I desire to help you? I am in a rather bad mood, you see, and you are doing little to help. Yes, it may be petty, but...give me cause. Give me cause aside from trying to find enough liquor to drown sorrow like mortals do, drown loss like you do, and you may get your chance."

Toxic Mind

2014-07-04, 07:10 PM

The Red Moon

An appropriate place, Daveth thought as he heard the call echo from the red moon. Red for his father, and red for himself. Daveth walks to his father, and nods his head as greeting. "I believe congratulations are in order on your new marriage." He says as opening. He eyes Drinker with no small amount of awe. Every Toraq knew of the axe of Artoran, though few had ever seen it even in a vision, let alone in person. Daveth was forging new paths already.

Arcran

2014-07-04, 07:19 PM

A New Toraq

The Red Moon

An appropriate place, Daveth thought as he heard the call echo from the red moon. Red for his father, and red for himself. Daveth walks to his father, and nods his head as greeting. "I believe congratulations are in order on your new marriage." He says as opening. He eyes Drinker with no small amount of awe. Every Toraq knew of the axe of Artoran, though few had ever seen it even in a vision, let alone in person. Daveth was forging new paths already.

Artoran looks at the Toraq, silently wondering how one of his own survived within the void. And, even more, why he seemed different.

"You heard that? I suppose everybody heard that," Artoran says chuckling, obviously delighted by the marriage.

"And who are you?" Artoran asks the Toraq. Other gods may know each of their children by name. Artoran is not such a god.

Toxic Mind

2014-07-04, 07:26 PM

A New, Old Toraq

"I am Daveth. Long ago I died before the walls of Verenzano. Rather than move onward, I chose to fight to stay in the mortal world, to learn from the being who came to my rescue long ago, and to become like her. In all this, I have succeeded." Daveth summons into his hand one of the iconic staves of a Reaper, though the Light of this staff is tinged with the red that suffused his new form.

Shmee

2014-07-04, 07:31 PM

Outside Klein

The god looks at the goblin, not angry, but that dangerous gleam back.

"Then perhaps you should give me reason to care, Skreechy."

A tendril wraps around the goblin's stomach, lifting the little thing to the topmost eyes as the aberrant god looks at him. In a voice like sin and vice, a voice like greed and envy and pride made manifest, he addresses the little goblin.

"Why, dear boy, should I desire to help you? I am in a rather bad mood, you see, and you are doing little to help. Yes, it may be petty, but...give me cause. Give me cause aside from trying to find enough liquor to drown sorrow like mortals do, drown loss like you do, and you may get your chance."

The Goblin raises an eyebrow "You want to help... Skreechy?" he whimpers as he begins to sob "No one ever wanted to help Skreechy before! YOU'VE MADE ME SO HAPPY!" as he reaches into his pouch, and bringing out a handkerchief, proceeds to blow his misshapen nose. "Is someone playing the tuba?" asks a passerby.

"YOU! Should help ME! Because I! AM TO BECOME THE WORLD'S GREATEST THESPIAN! And by doing so, everyone shall bow down TO THE MAGNIFICENCE WHICH IS ME! MWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA" he cackles once again.

"But YOU! Why are you so moody about huh? Ain't ya a god huh? huh? Common... tell it to old SKREECHY THE GREAT! You listened to me, so I listen to you... you know... you scratch my wart, I scrat yours? Common... get it off your shoulders... oh wait you don't have shoulders.... welll... you know... I'm listening... ain't gonna tell no one... common..."

Eshkigal

2014-07-04, 08:01 PM

Arcran

2014-07-04, 08:15 PM

A New Kind of Toraq

A New, Old Toraq

"I am Daveth. Long ago I died before the walls of Verenzano. Rather than move onward, I chose to fight to stay in the mortal world, to learn from the being who came to my rescue long ago, and to become like her. In all this, I have succeeded." Daveth summons into his hand one of the iconic staves of a Reaper, though the Light of this staff is tinged with the red that suffused his new form.

Artoran chuckles. Toraq fighting even after death? Sure, it was common in the Soul Fields but outside? That was new.

"And how'd you pull off that little feat?" Artoran says, an easy grin on his face. "Kill a Reaper, take their staff? A worthy feat for any Toraq," Artoran says, clearly misjudging the Toraq.

Toxic Mind

2014-07-04, 08:20 PM

Killing Death

Daveth laughs as if Artoran had said a most hilarious joke, which to the new Reaper, it was. The idea that a soul, any soul, Toraq or no, could stand before a Reaper in combat with a chance of victory was truly laughable. "No. I convinced her to train me. I learned from her and grew in power until I was deemed worthy of joining the Reapers in truth. Then, I could not have defeated Toal if she was asleep. Now... well, I have no cause to fight my mentor." A ghost of a smile crosses Daveth's face. Artoran is exactly as he imagined him. Brash, angry, eager to violence. The red of passion and fire in the blood.

HalfTangible

2014-07-04, 09:00 PM

Arcran

2014-07-05, 01:10 AM

Toraq and Artoran

Killing Death

Daveth laughs as if Artoran had said a most hilarious joke, which to the new Reaper, it was. The idea that a soul, any soul, Toraq or no, could stand before a Reaper in combat with a chance of victory was truly laughable. "No. I convinced her to train me. I learned from her and grew in power until I was deemed worthy of joining the Reapers in truth. Then, I could not have defeated Toal if she was asleep. Now... well, I have no cause to fight my mentor." A ghost of a smile crosses Daveth's face. Artoran is exactly as he imagined him. Brash, angry, eager to violence. The red of passion and fire in the blood.

Artoran laughs along with the Toraq, not quite sure what's so funny. It was a rather legitimate question.

"Trained? By a Reaper?" Artoran says, somewhat confused. Weren't those Kereth's toys? Why would one bother to train one of his spawn.

"And why would one bother to do that?" he mutters, musing aloud.

"But that is no matter! Have you heard the grand news?" Artoran says, holding up Aleru's head by the long strands of hair. "The Whore is at long last dead! We are victorious!" Artoran says, grinning stupidly. While the statement was obviously in part self-congratulatory it was far more focused on getting a reaction from Daveth and finding out exactly how Toraq he still is.

Toxic Mind

2014-07-05, 01:37 AM

Artoran and the Reaper

"Why indeed." It was a question Daveth had asked himself time and time again. And all the evidence pointed to one irrefutable fact. Ioal had never answered when he asked her, not really, but Daveth thought that now he knew. "Boredom. And because I bothered to ask." Daveth says matter-of-factly "I think my asking was the first time that Ioal, my mentor, was ever surprised by something a soul asked. So she said yes. Maybe as an experiment, maybe because she wanted a challenge. She's a lot like a Toraq, always looking for the next fight, the next challenge. I'm not sure if that's what I was to her, but I'm sure that's why she originally agreed to train me."

Daveth looks at the head. A gross waste, in his opinion. After all, Daveth could tell from here that anything that might have remained of the Whore was gone from the rotting flesh. But Artoran did what he pleased, and in this he was the victor. "Indeed. I watched as many of her people entered the Fields. Her kingdom is in disarray, and the Whore is dead at long last. A great victory for all Toraq, and for you." Daveth looks quizzically at his creator, at least one of his creators. "What is the next challenge, then? The Toraq must have something to hone their blades against. Surely you do not mean to have the might one another?" There was a lack of concern at the possibility in Daveth's voice, the quintessential lack of caring for the day-to-day lives of mortals that all Reapers shared. It seemed more of a conversational piece, than the Toraq Reaper worrying for the lives of his still living brothers and sisters.

Shmee

2014-07-05, 02:55 AM

[The Slavetaker Awakens]

The divine equivalent of three minutes old and already the elven slavemaster had daddy issues. Typical. The child spent a great deal of time thinking of a name as his body grew to adult. Time works differently for divines, so it was not a particularly long wait.

Something simple, he thought. Quick and easy to say and remember. He wanted to hear his name chanted by the masses as easily as the moans of pleasure and screams of pain he would one day elicit. He could've picked something strong and powerful to command respect, but that thought was immediately tossed aside. If you needed a name to get respect then you had none worth having.

"... I shall be Sein." Sein nodded. "Simple, elegant, easy for a slave to remember and to bow before. I like it." He turned to his mother, whose form was perfect as his, and smirked. Talk about an Oedipus complex, their divine auras pretty much ensured that.

... Ew

"Anything important I should know before I begin, mother?" He said sweetly, his voice bringing to mind the queen's most recent excursion with her husband/father. "I intend to start my harem with the elves, but if there is a particular faction or enemy I should watch for, I need to know.

The two statements were delivered with the weight of an order. Had she been mortal, the tyrant queen would have been compelled to obey. Of course, she was a goddess and thus could easily ignore it if she wished, so most likely Sein had not inended for this effect to occur.

Kar'Vode'an turns Sein's attention towards the mortal world "I remember when I was born, I had asked my family the same question. They warned me to be wary of the Mechanicus and of Kereth, the murdering and petty god of Death whose sole purpose is to lord it over all the gods. However, I had to see it with my own eyes, and so I created the Fair Folk... the Elves they call them, in order to force the Mechanicus to reveal their true inner ugliness. They murder upon whim and then spout nonsense about "justice" and "partiality" without realizing their hypocrisy and meddle in the affairs of other gods with impunity as they impose their flawed laws over all. Hence why your great family line formed the Unchained. To ensure that we can act freely as gods without being judged by others. Be wary of all, and trust only yourself."

She leads Sein's gaze to Anval, to where the Elven Empire was, and in particular the city of Kar'ecna'diar.

"And now my time upon that world has come to and end, and as far as I'm concerned, the Fair Folk have served their purpose well. But this is now your time to mold that ugly world as you see fit. For you see the greatest Kingdom? Its jewel Kar'ecna'diar was once my seat of power. Within the Palace of Radiance is my throne... the very same throne that I shall give you to sit upon. A child should always strive to surpass their parents. Therefore I shall give you but one command..."

Kar'Vode'an places her hand on Sein's face and slowly leads it to hers, as she gives her son a kiss on his mouth. He was perfect! How could she not kiss this perfection that she had created?

"Do as you will..." she hisses, giving a terrifying leer of pure malevolence.

Basically Kar'Vode'an is going to crown Sein as Emperor of the Elves if you want. Ave Sein!

Also, I'll get Skreechy's reply in a bit.

Arcran

2014-07-05, 10:40 AM

A Traitor Toraq?

Artoran and the Reaper

"Why indeed." It was a question Daveth had asked himself time and time again. And all the evidence pointed to one irrefutable fact. Ioal had never answered when he asked her, not really, but Daveth thought that now he knew. "Boredom. And because I bothered to ask." Daveth says matter-of-factly "I think my asking was the first time that Ioal, my mentor, was ever surprised by something a soul asked. So she said yes. Maybe as an experiment, maybe because she wanted a challenge. She's a lot like a Toraq, always looking for the next fight, the next challenge. I'm not sure if that's what I was to her, but I'm sure that's why she originally agreed to train me."

Daveth looks at the head. A gross waste, in his opinion. After all, Daveth could tell from here that anything that might have remained of the Whore was gone from the rotting flesh. But Artoran did what he pleased, and in this he was the victor. "Indeed. I watched as many of her people entered the Fields. Her kingdom is in disarray, and the Whore is dead at long last. A great victory for all Toraq, and for you." Daveth looks quizzically at his creator, at least one of his creators. "What is the next challenge, then? The Toraq must have something to hone their blades against. Surely you do not mean to have the might one another?" There was a lack of concern at the possibility in Daveth's voice, the quintessential lack of caring for the day-to-day lives of mortals that all Reapers shared. It seemed more of a conversational piece, than the Toraq Reaper worrying for the lives of his still living brothers and sisters.

Artoran nods at the bit about Ioal. His mind slowly sputters to life, and, had this been a cartoon, smoke would have poured out his ears. Artoran has his own theory about why a Reaper should train a Toraq. Out of all of creation, what would Artoran trust as much as himself? A Toraq. However, if a Toraq was taken in by a Reaper, trained by one, would not the loyalty be split between Artoran and Kereth? Would not the Toraq become the perfect spy?

Despite his misgivings, Artoran trusts the Mechanicus. They had never moved against him and he had never moved against them. And why should they? He did nothing to harm them.

"The new foe?" Artoran says, chuckling at Daveth. "Humans. Klein. Elves. Minotaurs. Crabs. Each other. Whoever the Toraq decide to fight in my name! I do not interfere in mortal affairs. The Whore was an exception. Unless another god does something worthy of taking her place the Toraq will do as they please as long as the remain true to their purpose."

Dracio

2014-07-05, 03:24 PM

Fiends and Toraq making deals

The Infernalis looks back to his two companions and begins muttering quietly. Soon the three Fiends get dragged into the conversation that lasts for a few minutes. The Fiends as first looked enraged and shoot venomous glances at the Infernalis, and after several minutes being to calm down though they still appear to be grumblings in whispers.

The Infernalis approaches the Toraq again wearing a malicious grin, "Your methods appear to be quite effective and would look to be terrifying on the field of battle. I propose an exchange of knowledge between us. The armour we wear that can turn aside blows that would see you dead and the knowledge to heal yourself from the land. And in exchange you teach us how to ride into battle where the fear will be thick when they see us. You get better equipped for war and we get cause more fear when we ride to battle, a good exchange for our peoples yes?"

Mount Halcua Path

The Fiends and Infernalis make quick on the path to the mountain peak following the Ut'Gal. They look forward to resting at the top of the spire that is the mountain basking in the environment much like their beloved home.

So I was wrong with begin back on top of things as things get more skewed as the wedding approaches and family prepares to come in for it. Don't be surprised if I am not on much with all that is happening till next week.

Toxic Mind

2014-07-05, 03:46 PM

Spy Sapping my Sentry

Daveth nods. It seemed that even as much as had changed, the Toraq having beasts, founding alliances with cities, even defeating the Whore herself, their god had not changed where it mattered. It pleased Daveth. "Today I came here because I was ordered to, because I believe Kereth wished to see your reaction to my existence. But I ask you blood father. Is there something you wish of me, beyond my purpose? I am not mortal, not truly, anymore, and you are my Father as much as He is. I would not serve against your will or his."

Arcran

2014-07-05, 04:44 PM

Fiends Divine and Mortal

Fiends and Toraq making deals

The Infernalis looks back to his two companions and begins muttering quietly. Soon the three Fiends get dragged into the conversation that lasts for a few minutes. The Fiends as first looked enraged and shoot venomous glances at the Infernalis, and after several minutes being to calm down though they still appear to be grumblings in whispers.

The Infernalis approaches the Toraq again wearing a malicious grin, "Your methods appear to be quite effective and would look to be terrifying on the field of battle. I propose an exchange of knowledge between us. The armour we wear that can turn aside blows that would see you dead and the knowledge to heal yourself from the land. And in exchange you teach us how to ride into battle where the fear will be thick when they see us. You get better equipped for war and we get cause more fear when we ride to battle, a good exchange for our peoples yes?"

At first the apparent leader seems to be about to reject the offer when an older Toraq interrupts him, looking at the fiends.

"Deal."

Behind, the Toraq chuckle. The fiends could never understand animals like they.

Where Is Spy?

Spy Sapping my Sentry

Daveth nods. It seemed that even as much as had changed, the Toraq having beasts, founding alliances with cities, even defeating the Whore herself, their god had not changed where it mattered. It pleased Daveth. "Today I came here because I was ordered to, because I believe Kereth wished to see your reaction to my existence. But I ask you blood father. Is there something you wish of me, beyond my purpose? I am not mortal, not truly, anymore, and you are my Father as much as He is. I would not serve against your will or his."

Artoran frowns, looking at the Toraq. He came asking for permission? Or something else? Or did Kereth simply wish to toy with him?

"And tell me Daveth of what would have become Tribe Fox, what would Kereth have you do? Would he have you slaughter the leaders of the Toraq while they are in council?" Artoran says, the words seeming more like his bride's than his own.

HalfTangible

2014-07-05, 06:31 PM

[Familial Bonds]

Sein melted into the kiss. His mother was perfection itself. "Yes, mother. I promise, all will bow before me before I'm done." He smiled as she pulled away. "This place will do nicely for a warm-up."

He departed for the palace, ready to make himself master of the elves.

---

(bit suggestive, but should still be sfw)

[Harems]

The throne could certainly be made more comfortable, but as a place to rule it would serve for now. The palace was massive, and served as the top of a beautiful tower. Sein could hardly believe his mother had ever deigned to leave - truly, this place was magnificent. But she was right - a child should work to surpass his parents, and he would begin here.

While he had seen many slaves in the city below, he had noticed very few of anything other than elves within the tower (in fact he wasn't sure he'd seen any) and that troubled him. The elves were the superior being, were they not? Should the lesser races not toil for their acknowledgement, their affection even their simple pleasure? Should all not toil or direct those who toil?

Sein stood from the throne that was now his. He would begin by correcting this grave error. Slaves would work on all projects within the city, and that included within the tower, as well.

After all, he thought, how else am I or any elf of the city to have a properly exotic harem if we may not include whoever we wish?

He clapped his hands, and one of his servants entered the room. He frowned, forgetting about his plans for the city for the moment. She wore restrictive armor that hid her form. That simply would not do for any servant of his.

"Firstly-"

"Hey! Who are you? How did you get in here?!" The elf soldier yelled.

"I am Sein, your god of fertility and slavery, and new master."

"Fertility? Slavery? Wha-" She blinked, and he saw a blush creep into her cheeks as she suddenly noticed he was naked. Much more than that, though, was the realization that his form was perfection. "M-master?" Her eyes wandered his body, fixing on the most enticing part of his form.

Sein sighed. Becoming ruler was was going to take a while if all mortals were this slow. He beckoned to her. "Yes. Now, don't those clothes feel restrictive?"

She looked down at herself. Now that he mentioned it, her clothes did feel rather obstructing and pointless. Why was she wearing armor? It wasn't like anyone was here that needed protecting anymore.

"Don't you want to remove them?"

She felt the words fall on her like an order. You want to strip.

Yes. Yes she did. How strange. She removed her armor and other garments, standing nude before the fertility god. As this thought entered her head, she felt a warmth spread throughout her.

The god's interest was plain in his eyes. This time he gave no verbal order, but she still knew what he wanted. She felt herself turning slowly, giving Sein a view of her from every angle.

She must have have a submissive side if I don't even need to vocalize the order - good.

When she stopped spinning, she blushed at his evident interest in her body. His toned muscles and sly smile made her feel like a young maiden again, barely able to believe she was about to be touched.

"Yes, you will breed well. Come closer."

Mouth dry, she moved forward, her eyes drinking in the sight of this perfect body. She had no idea what had come over her, but at that moment she wanted nothing more than to bear his children, and though she had no idea how, she knew she would be having many if he were her lover. Brief thoughts of her husband-to-be flashed in her mind, but she pushed them aside. He would understand - when a deity called on you for companionship, you did not pass it up.

As they embraced with passion, she gave in to the fiery lust coursing throughout her body. Soon she would be with child. She was so happy to serve that she didn't even realize (nor care) that over the course of a few minutes she had gone from soldier to slave.

Sein had that effect on people.

AP: 15-7=8

Create Lesser Concept: Harem
Harems can be of any gender, race or civilization that allows slavery, and of any number.

Create Organization: Sein's Harem
Sein is a fertility and slavery god, did you really expect him not to have one of these? Sein's harem is comprised primarily of elven women (especially right now, since he has only just arrived in the world and has yet to leave the elven tower-city) but also has humans and any other kind of slave you would expect elves to posses. There is the occasional male, but they are not allowed to touch the women without Sein's express permission. (Extremely rare). The members are all willing, highly fertile and unquestioningly loyal and devoted servants to Sein.

Create Fabled Concept: Birth Addiction
Sex and pregnancy are now literally addictive, withdrawal side-effects and all, when had/brought about by Sein, a member of his harem, or an elvish harem owner/member. (Pregnancy withdrawal takes a year after your last birth for the effects to sink in, sex two weeks) The only permanent cure is to join a harem, Sein's or otherwise. Elves can bang whoever they want to get rid of the symptoms, but other races must go to Sein, his harem or the harem that got them addicted in the first place.

Toxic Mind

2014-07-05, 07:20 PM

No Spy Here, Just a Messenger

Daveth looks oddly at Artoran. "Tribe Fox makes their own destiny, they decide their own fate. Why would Kereth decide it for them." Daveth frowns at the second question. "I cannot speak for Kereth but I am sure..." "He can speak for himself."

Kereth strides out of the nothingness. "I was wondering when you would ask. Let me ask you then, when Aleru denied your strength, spat in your face, and refused to acknowledge even one iota of your power, what did you do to her?" Kereth laughs, but it is cold and humorless. "We both know the answer to that, Blood Father. Is it so strange to you to find that your wife, so haughty and arrogant, has made enemies? She chose her path, but I am merciful. I could have crushed her in her infancy, but this existence has seen the deaths of enough gods. I allowed her to live, but such insolence cannot go unpunished. And so I used my hand, who had legitimate reason enough to see the Elven Council dead, to enact my punishment. Not so different from yourself, I think." Kereth stands, staff in hand, waiting for the other god's reply. Daveth, for his part, stands mutely by, now witness to this dialogue between the two gods responsible for his creation, two of the oldest gods in existence.

Eldamar

2014-07-05, 09:40 PM

The Forge of Sparks
Kereth, Naer'Va, Nika, Mirmulnir, Akora

“So be it, Plaguemother.” The Dark One clacks his fingers together disappointedly. How could the Demon of Knowledge contend against the will of the Vermin Queen amid the hearts of Skizziks? Regardless, already miners from across the world would soon be coming across veins of silver that weren’t so. Stretching for miles in thin ribbons, almost like threads tracing through solid rock, but their tools almost useless against the metal itself. From the deepest skizzik pits to mountainside mines of Klein, exploratory goblin tunnels and outcroppings of rock throughout the Anval desert. The properties are beyond mortal experience, their forging methods wholly useless, the only conceivable method of separating it from rock is acidic ooze that dissolves the stone away.

“Originator?”

This new voice tugged upon the Lord of Secrets, the very air around him so recently brimming with assuredness, the very weight of his thought surpassing his physical form in his moment of taking center stage amongst his equals all of it draining. His momentary weakness of expression, both conscious and non, being drawn into the sucking maw of his being like a void consuming all light. Turning his head, the empty hood comes face-to-nonface with a maiden the likes of which unseen and unmatched by mortal or divine. Even with her nakedness and head resting upon his metal sleeve, Mirmulnir loses no composer. His fist clenches upon the rugged stones of mithril, and unseen from any other two dimly lit silver eyes open for the first time within the void of his empty hood.

“Why are there so many secrets kept hidden?”

“That is my nature.” Those silver eyes only visible to this nude goddess sitting by his throne watch her unwavering as his free hand reaches across to graze her jawline with a pointed black finger, gently raising her chin. “And whom are you?”

Starting AP: 5AP/0PAP
Rollovers: 4AP/1PAP
Ending AP: 9AP/1PAP

Toxic Mind

2014-07-05, 11:26 PM

The Tower of Shattered Light

The Dawn broke on Galvastia as the land burned ceaselessly. When the city fell, when the king disappeared, when Aleru died, many hoped that the slaughter would end. But it was not to be so. Galvastia suffered still under the hands of the most vicious of the Toraq tribes. Other lands had protectors, had gods who stood above them, but Galvastia had none. And like a shark drawn to blood in the water, the beasts had descended. There were few places of safety left in this ravaged land. Small pockets of peace surrounded the Wayshrines throughout the land, but they were closely guarded by Toraq, who quickly figured out that outside the range of the shrine they were free to do as they pleased, and so kept many from reaching its safety. The shores were safer, though even they were dangerous. Ships patrolled the seas there, and fire on any Toraq who neared them. But such ships were few and far between, and there was little guarantee that one would not be hit in the same blast that killed your would-be executioners.

And so when Dawn broke that morning, the land itself saw something strange. A crystal pillar stood where before there had been only an open field. A massive tower, rivaling even the tallest turrets in the once great city, made entirely out of prismatic glass. And as the light of the sun struck the tower, it shattered, spraying the countryside with colors and mirages. The Toraq were the first to see the tower, and many rode or ran to claim this new prize for themselves. Upon reaching it, they found that the tower was obviously hollow inside, with an altar at the top. There was one door, on the ground level, but it was guarded by a strange creature. A crystalline man, whose skin was the same material as the tower itself, stood before the door. His body was all sharp edges, and while he kept a strangely human form, he merely stared at those around him, waiting for one to begin speaking.

Yet even as the Toraq stood, waiting for one brave enough, or foolish enough, to approach the crystalline guardian, thy saw the land around them changing. The ground itself began transforming, becoming as crystal as the tower itself. Tree trunks became prisms, their leaves glass. A nearby fence becomes the same, its imperfect construction immortalized now in light-shattering material. Even as this transformation expanded, the sentinel spoke. "To impede any who seek the Trial and the Knowledge that lies within is to deny yourself the same. All may attempt to enter, but the Unworthy face death for their failure."

Come one come all to try the Tower for yourself. A great prize awaits those deemed worthy to enter it. The Sentinel is more than willing to answer questions, to a point, and any may attempt the Trial itself.

4: Create Artifact: The Tower of Shattered Light - This Crystalline tower in the center of Galvastia appeared one day just as Dawn was breaking. It transformed much of the surrounding landscape into Prisms, and is guarded by a Sentinel made of the same, who promises a great reward to any who can prove themselves worthy of the Tower. Little more is known, for as of yet, none have dared to speak with the strange golem. However, it has said that any are welcome to attempt the Trial, and to stop one who intends it would forfeit the same chance from the one who stopped them.

Arcran

2014-07-06, 01:48 AM

A Coat of Gold, A Coat of Red

Shalee scrubbed the golden disc with a finger, frowning as the blood simply smeared around it. Had it been her own blood it would come at her beck and call but this? Some silly human that thought it was theirs after the sack.

Next to her a few humans labor to pull one of the many great wagons that Shalee and her tribe had gathered. Good workers, humans. For however weak they seemed they had the endurance of an ox with the right motivation.

With a sigh Shalee holds the coin out towards Gold, the rough feline tongue quickly removing any trace of blood from the small bit of gold. Now it might be almost usable.

With a toss over the shoulder the gold returns to the wagon, only to cause a far greater clatter than a piece of that size should cause. Shalee turns, worried that her great wealth had fallen into disarray, that the cart had broken somehow.

Instead she sees the gold twisting and turning, spinning upwards, ever upwards, seeming to spontaneously melt as it went from shape to shape. Soon the liquid gold had begun to slow down its frenzied whirl, becoming the shape of a golden being.

Many Toraq Tribes would have attacked the creature, had they given a damn about gold. Shalee's, on the other hand, was different. Her wealth had become alive, turned into some sort of great idol. Without hardly a thought the Toraqi woman bows before it, the Beasts and the rest of the tribe soon following suit.

Using The Great Boar to create Tribe Lion (https://ancientsofthevoid.obsidianportal.com/wikis/lion-tribe)

The Messenger is No Longer Needed

No Spy Here, Just a Messenger

Daveth looks oddly at Artoran. "Tribe Fox makes their own destiny, they decide their own fate. Why would Kereth decide it for them." Daveth frowns at the second question. "I cannot speak for Kereth but I am sure..." "He can speak for himself."

Kereth strides out of the nothingness. "I was wondering when you would ask. Let me ask you then, when Aleru denied your strength, spat in your face, and refused to acknowledge even one iota of your power, what did you do to her?" Kereth laughs, but it is cold and humorless. "We both know the answer to that, Blood Father. Is it so strange to you to find that your wife, so haughty and arrogant, has made enemies? She chose her path, but I am merciful. I could have crushed her in her infancy, but this existence has seen the deaths of enough gods. I allowed her to live, but such insolence cannot go unpunished. And so I used my hand, who had legitimate reason enough to see the Elven Council dead, to enact my punishment. Not so different from yourself, I think." Kereth stands, staff in hand, waiting for the other god's reply. Daveth, for his part, stands mutely by, now witness to this dialogue between the two gods responsible for his creation, two of the oldest gods in existence.

Artoran looks at Kereth with something akin to pity in his eyes. He would be friends with the God of Death and yet he made things so difficult...

"You threaten my bride once more?" Artoran mutters, all semblance of reason gone from him. He hardly heard the rest of the argument and, in an angry motion, rises from his seated position.

"You have never given me cause to hate you Kereth," he spits, foam flying from his mouth, "but this goddess so haughty and arrogant is both my daughter and my bride. Should you threaten her again, well, the rest need not be spoken," Artoran says, his glare clearly showing what would happen.

"I had thought you had the sense to leave the mortals to their own devices and allow the events below to transpire as they may. It is not our place to meddle; you as one of the Mechanicus should know that. We guide, we instruct but we do not intervene. If you wish to insult my bride have the decency to do it to her face instead of slaughtering her followers."

"She may have enemies but she has allies as well. Keep that in mind, Kereth," Artoran says, the name used as a plea for guidance not so long ago turning into a curse.

Malagor, A Land of Strife

"Give it to me!" Alag shouts, rushing towards the other minotaur horde. They had it, he knew they had it. Had he listened to the other horde he would have heard similar cries but all that was drowned in the red beauty of that miraculous gem. So perfect. glistening in every hue. Nothing could hope to compete with its beauty.

At least so Alag thought, a great jet of flames flying from his fingers to course through the horde of the other tribe. A few fell screaming, until Alag felt a sharp pain in his head and, without a sound, died.

High above, somewhere in the sky, a childish laugh can be heard.

Using the Red Gem to curse Malagor into a civil war.

A New Challenger Approaches

The Tower of Shattered Light

The Dawn broke on Galvastia as the land burned ceaselessly. When the city fell, when the king disappeared, when Aleru died, many hoped that the slaughter would end. But it was not to be so. Galvastia suffered still under the hands of the most vicious of the Toraq tribes. Other lands had protectors, had gods who stood above them, but Galvastia had none. And like a shark drawn to blood in the water, the beasts had descended. There were few places of safety left in this ravaged land. Small pockets of peace surrounded the Wayshrines throughout the land, but they were closely guarded by Toraq, who quickly figured out that outside the range of the shrine they were free to do as they pleased, and so kept many from reaching its safety. The shores were safer, though even they were dangerous. Ships patrolled the seas there, and fire on any Toraq who neared them. But such ships were few and far between, and there was little guarantee that one would not be hit in the same blast that killed your would-be executioners.

And so when Dawn broke that morning, the land itself saw something strange. A crystal pillar stood where before there had been only an open field. A massive tower, rivaling even the tallest turrets in the once great city, made entirely out of prismatic glass. And as the light of the sun struck the tower, it shattered, spraying the countryside with colors and mirages. The Toraq were the first to see the tower, and many rode or ran to claim this new prize for themselves. Upon reaching it, they found that the tower was obviously hollow inside, with an altar at the top. There was one door, on the ground level, but it was guarded by a strange creature. A crystalline man, whose skin was the same material as the tower itself, stood before the door. His body was all sharp edges, and while he kept a strangely human form, he merely stared at those around him, waiting for one to begin speaking.

Yet even as the Toraq stood, waiting for one brave enough, or foolish enough, to approach the crystalline guardian, thy saw the land around them changing. The ground itself began transforming, becoming as crystal as the tower itself. Tree trunks became prisms, their leaves glass. A nearby fence becomes the same, its imperfect construction immortalized now in light-shattering material. Even as this transformation expanded, the sentinel spoke. "To impede any who seek the Trial and the Knowledge that lies within is to deny yourself the same. All may attempt to enter, but the Unworthy face death for their failure."

Come one come all to try the Tower for yourself. A great prize awaits those deemed worthy to enter it. The Sentinel is more than willing to answer questions, to a point, and any may attempt the Trial itself.

4: Create Artifact: The Tower of Shattered Light - This Crystalline tower in the center of Galvastia appeared one day just as Dawn was breaking. It transformed much of the surrounding landscape into Prisms, and is guarded by a Sentinel made of the same, who promises a great reward to any who can prove themselves worthy of the Tower. Little more is known, for as of yet, none have dared to speak with the strange golem. However, it has said that any are welcome to attempt the Trial, and to stop one who intends it would forfeit the same chance from the one who stopped them.

Among the Toraq there are many that are brave, many that are foolish, and many that are both. More than one dared to attempt the tower and, every time, they were never heard from again.

Of course, there is one Toraq who believes himself of a particularly extraordinary intelligence. The most cunning of his race. The group had been making a straight line back to Verenzano to resupply but, when he heard of the challenge, Kalux had no choice but to change his course.

Soon enough the silver-haired Toraq and the silver-haired fox were approaching the crystalline guardian, walking nearer with an unconcerned, easy gait. They hardly seem worried about the challegen but whether it be bravery or simple foolishness is yet to be seen.

Of course, Kalux had left the other tribes a simple command. A good group of Horse was in the area and, while strong, they weren't exactly the proper ones for a challenge. They relieve the simple task of keeping lesser races away. Fox, of course, is told to refrain from killing; if the reward is great enough why shouldn't the greatest among the Toraq relieve the gift?

"Where do I start?" the Toraq says simply, a confident grin on his face. Silver stands easily at his side, tongue lolling out slightly.

Dragonsage

2014-07-06, 01:58 AM

The Forge of Sparks
~Hello Father~

The new born goddess stares into her creator's silver eyes and responds with a gentle smile. "I am Akora... the truth." She places her hand on Mirmulnir's before giving her face cheek into the palm of his hand. "I came from within your thoughts, Originator. There is so much sadness I have seen through your memories."

Akora then began to rise from her seated position, still holding Mirmulnir's hand on her cheek and looking deeply into his eyes. "I feel that I must do something to ease Mekhet's mourning... No wait..." She paused as her eyes briefly averted from her creator's. In her mind she saw the moons that revolved around the mortal world. She felt the tragedies that some of the moons had played a role in, and from there with the memories of her progenitor she saw the abandoned races who no longer had gods to guide them and had been forgotten... like the memories and secrets that formed her. "No, there are so much more that need my aid." Her eyes meet with Mirmulnir's again before her tattooed runes glowed even brighter and encased her with a heavenly glow. When the glow faded, The goddess was no longer nude, and was clothed in simple cloths and pelts which left her tattooed limbs fully revealed.

"I will start with Mekhet's mourning, but will you aid me in helping the abandon races, Originator?" She stared deeper into Mirmulnir's eyes with her face of perfect innocence, knowing of her progenitor's had some capacity for compassion even if he chose to repress it.

Toxic Mind

2014-07-06, 02:27 AM

Death is Tired

Kereth snarls, his face twisting in anger. "Oh but I have allowed them to transpire. Did I rain cleansing light from the sky to punish the elves for their murder of one of my children? Did I damn their souls to restlessly wander the earth? No. One of my servants took it upon himself to avenge that loss, and I chose not to interfere. Do not forget who you speak to Artoran. This was a mortal matter until she made it the providence of gods." Kereth exhales deeply and turns his back on Artoran for a moment. "I meant what I said. There has been too many lost to us, and I would feign to add to that number. I did not tell you this as a threat, but as one god to another. Once we talked together without violence or hate." Kereth turns back, and there is profound sadness in his eyes. "I do not want this war, for it would consume the world below us in fire and destruction, and none would emerge unscathed. I want peace. Too much has been lost, and more stands waiting to fall if we do not turn from this Path.

The Tower

As Kalux approaches the tower, the Sentinel stirs. "You must prove yourself worthy to enter the tower. Why are you worthy of the gift of Revelation?" The sound is like stone grinding together, yet Kalux understands perfectly.

In The first part of the trial, the supplicant must attempt to prove their worth to the Sentinel. What makes a supplicant worthwhile changes based on the race and the time, but it takes one of extraordinary prowess to pass. Hey also have to be able to make a good argument.

No spoilers here, not yet, but the tower has a great deal to do with souls and the dead. The reward for succeeding has a great deal to do with that as well.

Eshkigal

2014-07-06, 02:52 AM

(I have waited for a good point to suggest this, I am going for it)

The Nearby Moon
Eyes and mouths form from the nearby Rings of Chaos, before shooting out tendrils which snap off around the two gods. An angry, rather put out Mekhet glares at them sixfold, and out at the world beyond.

"Oh both of you hold off on the posturing, all of creation gets you're the biggest and baddest, you do not have to grandstand here. Though Naer'Va may grow bigger than you both, soon. But I paid attention at Klein, yes I did, especially in the fight between Nika and Iskar, though after I kind of messed up. You don't want war against a friend, and I am rather attached to both my sisters in that I do not wish them dead, so if I may offer sparring instead. A War of Jousting, to submission. My rings for neutral ground. Or do my brothers in law and all their allies end up trying to cut one another down instead?"

Shmee

2014-07-06, 04:01 AM

Outside Klein
"Well, let's see...I have been cognizant for only two weeks since Kereth almost killed me by accident. That's not a big thing, that's just something that happens. What shouldn't have happened is the attempt for peace changing into a siege mentality, with both sides preparing to lay waste to the other. What shouldn't have happened is a declaration of war between two nations, when I sought to unite three. Hopefully two shall stand strong enough... What shouldn't have happened is my sisters, our Mother gone, going to opposite sides to likely try and slay each other, likely planning to drag their pantheons in, or at least War and Death as those are their lovers. What shouldn't have happened is the death of the Wind of Regret, Sideshne, because her spark was forged by a mortal spirit who thought to steal the power of gods, and because of Kereth, we only had those two weeks together! I have saved what I can, but it's! Not! ENOUGH!"

Rage, loss, confusion grow in the many mouths, until frothing spittle that begins making the grass where it lands howl like dogs comes at the last sentence.

"First Mother sleeps eternally upon the Tree, now she I would have seen as my bride had to be shattered to be saved from a fate no mortal should ever know of? My sisters prepare for war and quite possibly the other's destruction? My deific children go silent, lost to that beyond? I give the gods worlds, I let my children wander, make friends, make enemies, but always grow, always learn, change, advance, become their own people! I have cared, and tried to show that! What have I failed to do?! What has broken that I must fix?! Why does my deific family dwindle so, seek it's own destruction?!"

The barrel is wrapped by angry tendrils and shatters easily, before the remains are tossed onto the so called Realms of Chaos, and it snarls with a voice like ten thousand beasts.

"How do I stop a war of gods I may well have caused?! Prevent them from doing something foolish, something idiotic, something that will tumble all we have made into the pit?! How do I keep them from breaking every bloody thing because they think themselves right?!"

"If every god seems to think that they are right... THEN WHY DON'T YOU PROVE THEM WRONG? Shove their wrongness down their throats if you have to... UNTIL THEY SEE THINGS YOUR WAY! Lemme tell YOU something! For reasons I cannot fathom I AM NOT A GOD! Although I should be worshiped... BUT THAT IS NOT THE POINT! I was born as a mistake and raised as a joke. I wanted to become a Thespian... but fate turned me into a clown... you know how many clowns manage a successful career in the theaters? NOT FRAKKIN' MANY! But despite all that I WILL NEVER GIVE UP DESPITE EVERYTHING, THE GODS, FATE AND THIS WORLD HAS THROWN AT ME! You wanna know what needs fixing?"

"YOU!" The insane Goblin points an accusing finger at Mekhet as he screams.

"If I was a god? I can tell ya! The one thing I wouldn't be doing... IS MOPING AROUND FEELING SORRY FOR MYSELF!"

================================================== ==========
Kar'Vode'an

The goddess of Love watches as her son leaves his parents behind to leave his own mark upon the world, just as she once had so many aeons ago. "He makes a mother proud." she says as she wonders in what ways her son will surpass her. However, if Sein was to surpass his mother, she had no intentions of making it easy at all, for perhaps her time when she could physically walk upon the world had passed, but now a new era was starting, and the first thing she knew is that she required a new seat of power.

And Kar'Vode'an knew that there could be only one place worthy.

Amongst other things she was the goddess of Radiance, and often would she claim that the sun pales before her glory. Little did they know that her boast was not empty. For now Kar'Vode'an stood before the one thing in creation that could contend her claim... forged in the early days of creation by a dead goddess, its beauty and strength seen and admired by all, gods and mortals alike... the Sun.

Even though the heat emanating from the sun would have burnt any lesser creature, the goddess allows its warmth to fill her as she begins to emanate her own radiance, fueled by the unparalleled beauty that was the goddess of Love. When people hear of the fights of the gods, many immediately refer to that between Artoran and Aleru, but today a new legend arose, of the day when Kar'Vode'an challenged the Sun itself.

And thus the two sources of light lock themselves in a titanic struggle. The Sun, one of the oldest and amongst the first of creations of the early gods had been left undisturbed since the early days of creation, yet before it stood a powerful goddess who refused to be outdone by anyone or anything.

"It is MY radiance that shall light the entire world!"

She declares as the Sun's light finally begins to wane before her light. Giving one final push, the radiance of the goddess of Love engulfs the entire sun. No longer would the sun give its own light, instead from that day it would emanate Kar'Vode'an's light onto the world, and all across creation for all to see and wonder... gods and mortals alike.

"And now... to leave my mark upon creation itself!" she says as she focuses her divine will, forming seven constantly rotating rings over the Sun that would harness the Sun's excess powers and contain it, in effect trapping the Sun within. From a distance, the Solar Rings seem to be made out of the purest gold, with runes emanating light so powerful that a mortal will go instantly blind should they look at it. Even for a god to look at it would hurt their eyes.

Deep within the Sun itself, Kar'Vode'an now walks within the Solar Halls, her new seat of power and a place were the Unchained can call "home." She decides to send her husband a message.

"My Beloved... behold our home that shall remind our enemies just how far reaching our power is!"

In the mortal world below... the day came and went as it always had since the beginning of creation. It was as if nothing at all had changed.

For now...

AP4: Create Plane:Kar'Sol (Basically I'm taking over the Sun)

Kar'Sol is now Unchained territory, and as such, non-Unchained are unable to come in without permission. Anyone else will have to ask nicely. The Sun's new light makes it a Major Positive Energy Plane, the Solar Rings themselves being the only habitable area... although that would still be ill advised. Oh... and just because I can... the power of the Sun is so great that scrying and teleporting/portaling into it is impossible.

Arcran

2014-07-06, 10:51 AM

War Is Angry

Death is Tired

Kereth snarls, his face twisting in anger. "Oh but I have allowed them to transpire. Did I rain cleansing light from the sky to punish the elves for their murder of one of my children? Did I damn their souls to restlessly wander the earth? No. One of my servants took it upon himself to avenge that loss, and I chose not to interfere. Do not forget who you speak to Artoran. This was a mortal matter until she made it the providence of gods." Kereth exhales deeply and turns his back on Artoran for a moment. "I meant what I said. There has been too many lost to us, and I would feign to add to that number. I did not tell you this as a threat, but as one god to another. Once we talked together without violence or hate." Kereth turns back, and there is profound sadness in his eyes. "I do not want this war, for it would consume the world below us in fire and destruction, and none would emerge unscathed. I want peace. Too much has been lost, and more stands waiting to fall if we do not turn from this Path.

"Vengeance from one mortal to another?" Artoran says, eyes narrowing. "Then surely you won't begrudge the elves a few hundred elvish heads, would you? Or at least a dozen? Just to even the odds?"

"You claim to be neutral but your son is anything but. He meddles in issues that are none of his concern. You will reprimand him, teach him your purpose. The next time he uses his so called "vengeance" I will be forced to intervene."

"I will accept this war with open arms. Your son has nearly caused it twice. See to it he does not begin it again," Artoran says, calmer than he was but still leering. "My child at least has the sense to stay out of issues that are none of his concern."

My Sun and Stars

Kar'Vode'an

The goddess of Love watches as her son leaves his parents behind to leave his own mark upon the world, just as she once had so many aeons ago. [COLOR="#800080"]"He makes a mother proud." she says as she wonders in what ways her son will surpass her. However, if Sein was to surpass his mother, she had no intentions of making it easy at all, for perhaps her time when she could physically walk upon the world had passed, but now a new era was starting, and the first thing she knew is that she required a new seat of power.

And Kar'Vode'an knew that there could be only one place worthy.

Amongst other things she was the goddess of Radiance, and often would she claim that the sun pales before her glory. Little did they know that her boast was not empty. For now Kar'Vode'an stood before the one thing in creation that could contend her claim... forged in the early days of creation by a dead goddess, its beauty and strength seen and admired by all, gods and mortals alike... the Sun.

Even though the heat emanating from the sun would have burnt any lesser creature, the goddess allows its warmth to fill her as she begins to emanate her own radiance, fueled by the unparalleled beauty that was the goddess of Love. When people hear of the fights of the gods, many immediately refer to that between Artoran and Aleru, but today a new legend arose, of the day when Kar'Vode'an challenged the Sun itself.

And thus the two sources of light lock themselves in a titanic struggle. The Sun, one of the oldest and amongst the first of creations of the early gods had been left undisturbed since the early days of creation, yet before it stood a powerful goddess who refused to be outdone by anyone or anything.

"It is MY radiance that shall light the entire world!"

She declares as the Sun's light finally begins to wane before her light. Giving one final push, the radiance of the goddess of Love engulfs the entire sun. No longer would the sun give its own light, instead from that day it would emanate Kar'Vode'an's light onto the world, and all across creation for all to see and wonder... gods and mortals alike.

"And now... to leave my mark upon creation itself!" she says as she focuses her divine will, forming seven constantly rotating rings over the Sun that would harness the Sun's excess powers and contain it, in effect trapping the Sun within. From a distance, the Solar Rings seem to be made out of the purest gold, with runes emanating light so powerful that a mortal will go instantly blind should they look at it. Even for a god to look at it would hurt their eyes.

Deep within the Sun itself, Kar'Vode'an now walks within the Solar Halls, her new seat of power and a place were the Unchained can call "home." She decides to send her husband a message.

"My Beloved... behold our home that shall remind our enemies just how far reaching our power is!"

In the mortal world below... the day came and went as it always had since the beginning of creation. It was as if nothing at all had changed.

For now...

AP4: Create Plane:Kar'Sol (Basically I'm taking over the Sun)

Kar'Sol is now Unchained territory, and as such, non-Unchained are unable to come in without permission. Anyone else will have to ask nicely. The Sun's new light makes it a Major Positive Energy Plane, the Solar Rings themselves being the only habitable area... although that would still be ill advised. Oh... and just because I can... the power of the Sun is so great that scrying and teleporting/portaling into it is impossible.

Artoran watches as the sun becomes chained from his small throne upon the Red Moon. A home for the Unchained...

The God of Blood grins, his face completely lopsided. He had a delicious, wonderful idea.

"For long the Red Moon has simply been an event, something for mortals to fear and plot for. To defend against. Not so anymore! As my radiant bride takes the radiant sun, so shall the God of Blood take the Red Moon!" he shouts, slamming Drinker into the moon. "I claim Atraxxii's corpse as my own. A fitting throne for a Blood God, no?" he crows, feeling the power of the Red Moon become his own. Soon the rest would be his but, for now, one would have to do.

1 PAP, 8 AP

Claim Magical Concept: The Red Eclipse (https://ancientsofthevoid.obsidianportal.com/wikis/red-eclipse)

6 AP remaining

A Game of Crystals

The Tower

As Kalux approaches the tower, the Sentinel stirs. "You must prove yourself worthy to enter the tower. Why are you worthy of the gift of Revelation?" The sound is like stone grinding together, yet Kalux understands perfectly.

In The first part of the trial, the supplicant must attempt to prove their worth to the Sentinel. What makes a supplicant worthwhile changes based on the race and the time, but it takes one of extraordinary prowess to pass. Hey also have to be able to make a good argument.

No spoilers here, not yet, but the tower has a great deal to do with souls and the dead. The reward for succeeding has a great deal to do with that as well.

"I am Kalux of Tribe Fox," the old Toraq begins, a confident grin on his face. "It was I who forced Verenzano to treat with the Toraq. It was I who raised a small band of Toraq beyond their base roots to make them more than the greatest warriors of the world. I have killed Toraq, man, Wayfinder and Beast with impunity. I slew Falrak Alvarson, Chosen of Aleru, in single combat. I plotted the sack of Galvastia, I created the Walk of Sinners and, greatest among them all, I held council with the Greatest Warrior that Was or Ever Will Be."

Kalux's grin is easy. Only The Child of Artoran himself could hope to defeat those accomplishments.

Go Home Mekhet!

(I have waited for a good point to suggest this, I am going for it)

The Nearby Moon
Eyes and mouths form from the nearby Rings of Chaos, before shooting out tendrils which snap off around the two gods. An angry, rather put out Mekhet glares at them sixfold, and out at the world beyond.

"Oh both of you hold off on the posturing, all of creation gets you're the biggest and baddest, you do not have to grandstand here. Though Naer'Va may grow bigger than you both, soon. But I paid attention at Klein, yes I did, especially in the fight between Nika and Iskar, though after I kind of messed up. You don't want war against a friend, and I am rather attached to both my sisters in that I do not wish them dead, so if I may offer sparring instead. A War of Jousting, to submission. My rings for neutral ground. Or do my brothers in law and all their allies end up trying to cut one another down instead?"

"Speaking of meddlers," Artoran mutters as Mekhet appears in his mad glory.

"You're wrong Mekhet," Artoran says, his face emotionless. "War is greater than any could ever hope to fathom. War is unstoppable, immovable. War, War never changes," he says, his grin slowly growing wider and wider. "But it adapts. It evolves. It takes what belonged to the dead and makes it their own. The spoils of the victor Mekhet," Artoran says, his grin becoming wider by the minute. Each word he speaks becomes more and more powerful, his strength seeming to grow.

"I wonder at your offer that favors the Mechanicus. Have you not forgotten the crimes of Kereth? When he tried to murder you?" Artoran says. Of course, at the time that murder had been great fun but that was of no issue. "When you were helpless one whispered in my ear to finish you. One of Kereth's spawn, perhaps?"

"You stand alone Mekhet. You will sow chaos and destruction but how long until Kereth decides you threaten creation again? How long until he beats you with your own limbs? Join the Unchained Mekhet," Artoran says, extending a hand, "and stand as equals with the greatest of gods."

And, with those final words, Artoran flashes red, his transformation complete. The god now glows slightly red, signaling his power, far greater than ever before.

6 AP

Gain Domain: War (Unchanging)
Archery - 1/7
Blood Elves - 3/7
Tribe Horse - 5/7
Infuse Drinker - 7/7

Gain Domain: Red Eclipse (Red Beasts)
Blood of the Beast: 3/7
Forsaken Tribe: 5/7
Claim Red Eclipse: 7/7

Artoran is now Greater.

Eshkigal

2014-07-06, 11:56 AM

You'be been squatting in it, Artoran. Everywhere is home.
"Are you seriously trying to recruit me, Artoran? I who recruited you? I who paid for your entry, who had to find a different form of payment for you when you failed the simplest one I could devise? Who let you show you care for creation than little Miss Piggy here, show what War truly brings to the table? Yes, I know, Mechanicus has done me no favors despite plenty for them, save one who tried to destroy all I've wrought helped me considerably recently. I have my grudges, m'boy, but I have my ways past. I don't care enough to act on them."

The Cog God gestures to the squealing boar at Miss Piggy.

"On my loneliness, only recently, Artoran. Someone has to keep the Shield over the realms to protect mortality from our follies, and I'm the last of the Myriad Shield standing. No matter which side seeks to see me shattered, no matter what god decides they know best, I know what's more important than me, and that is our works. All of them. That is why I will refrain from pointing out precisely how easy I can tear all your works, and realms, and people to pieces just letting the Tree collapse, for that would be shirking my duty. It'd dishonor Heramaes and Sideshne. It would be so...easy to deny you your reward, it isn't even funny. And a war of gods would make it so there are no spoils left, anyway, or that only what I made would be left. I do not like that."

Mekhet glares evenly at the two gods.

"Though it is funny, for I thought I stood with every dissident, every God who has allies on both sides and does not feel so strongly about a god war. Who among the Unchained would heed the trumpets, hm? Who would rally to your side? Mechanicus is more united, more likely to all throw in even if it hurt. Even if it were sibling against sibling. Tell me, for the Unchained do watch, would they side with you? Or would some decide this was not their fight? Can you fight the war of words so well as others, I wonder? Way I see it, I offer you an even fight, two on two, no holds barred and no interference allowed for my realm means my rules. The first even fight you have ever gotten, to show who is strongest once and for all. Not too bad an idea, is it?"

Arcran

2014-07-06, 12:09 PM

Threats Are Bad

You'be been squatting in it, Artoran. Everywhere is home.
"Are you seriously trying to recruit me, Artoran? I who recruited you? I who paid for your entry, who had to find a different form of payment for you when you failed the simplest one I could devise? Who let you show you care for creation than little Miss Piggy here, show what War truly brings to the table? Yes, I know, Mechanicus has done me no favors despite plenty for them, save one who tried to destroy all I've wrought helped me considerably recently. I have my grudges, m'boy, but I have my ways past. I don't care enough to act on them."

The Cog God gestures to the squealing boar at Miss Piggy.

"On my loneliness, only recently, Artoran. Someone has to keep the Shield over the realms to protect mortality from our follies, and I'm the last of the Myriad Shield standing. No matter which side seeks to see me shattered, no matter what god decides they know best, I know what's more important than me, and that is our works. All of them. That is why I will refrain from pointing out precisely how easy I can tear all your works, and realms, and people to pieces just letting the Tree collapse, for that would be shirking my duty. It'd dishonor Heramaes and Sideshne. It would be so...easy to deny you your reward, it isn't even funny. And a war of gods would make it so there are no spoils left, anyway, or that only what I made would be left. I do not like that."

Mekhet glares evenly at the two gods.

"Though it is funny, for I thought I stood with every dissident, every God who has allies on both sides and does not feel so strongly about a god war. Who among the Unchained would heed the trumpets, hm? Who would rally to your side? Mechanicus is more united, more likely to all throw in even if it hurt. Even if it were sibling against sibling. Tell me, for the Unchained do watch, would they side with you? Or would some decide this was not their fight? Can you fight the war of words so well as others, I wonder? Way I see it, I offer you an even fight, two on two, no holds barred and no interference allowed for my realm means my rules. The first even fight you have ever gotten, to show who is strongest once and for all. Not too bad an idea, is it?"

Artoran pulls Drinker from the surface of the Red Moon, striding towards Mekhet.

"I offer you protection, friendship, strength, and what do you respond with? Threats?" the God of War states, livid. "Your 'sacred duty?' If you care so damn much about the plane below you'd leave! You are the threat to creation you seek to defend against!" Artoran shouts, any semblance of the prior friendship long gone.

"I reject your offer. The Unchained are many and those that seek to defeat us will find only their own folly."

Eldamar

2014-07-06, 12:20 PM

Mountains of Malagor

The spirits of the land are restless, the tribe of mountain minotaurs was isolated, news from the other tribes was seldom and of late nonexistent. Only the spirits remained who might know of the coming and goings on of the wide world beyond their mountain villages. Chief Hamuul had spent the day, dawn to dusk climbing the great twisting path from their valley below to the terrace of the North-Wind Temple. The middle-aged bull stood upon the stone cliff, staring out over the valley below and the wide open savannah beyond the foothills, a sack slung over his shoulder. The chaining of the sun, the restless spirits of the land, the absence of other tribes. Something was terribly wrong and his people demanded answers.

The Temple itself was old, carved from rock over dozens of generations, all overseen and blessed by his ancestors. The doors were shaped from logs two feet thick, held together by hemp rope, left open for any pilgrim by the monastic shamans who resided there. The temple itself was seemingly carved from the stone naturally. Vaulted ceilings with organic windows set high and columns of solid stone over fifty feet holding it up. Minotaurs in dyed robes of leather and fur congregated around windows and braziers, the winds blowing through the temple carrying the mixed scents of a dozen types of incense; earthy, spicy, sour, sweet, some stinking of dead flesh and others of blooming flowers. Ropes crisscrossed the ceiling, from pillar to pillar, and from them hung great wind chimes of bone and wood, a scant few ending in medallions of metal.

The Chief settles upon a mat on a raised platform in the center of the temple. With the sun beyond the horizon, the temple was darkening fast, but even as the last specs of red disappeared the temple grew bright. Great holes were cut from the ceiling, a hundred or more feet above him. And from these skylights and windows, the glistening stars began to shine bright and clear, illuminating the pale white stone with an ethereal light.

“Grant me a vision, spirits. What stirs beyond our sanctuary?” With a piece of flint from his sack, the chieftain lights his offering bowl of fragrant herbs. Inhaling the pungent earthy smoke, the lithe minotaur relaxes his body and allows his mind to wander freely. The wind spirits are restless, moreso than ever, incomprehensible in their chorus of wails and whispers. The chieftain’s mind, carried higher into the sky by the smoke of his offering lays frozen on a cloud amongst the stars. The world below him fades into night. “Spirits?”

Nothing. No more wind, only the silent and cold light of the stars above and around him. But they move. A cluster here, a band of pinpricks there, constellations ancient beginning to alter course. The void grows as they coalesce into a strange shape; a horned serpent with wings covering the skies. As its great silver eye turns upon him, he begins to fall.

Forge of Sparks

Akora and Mirmulnir

“Many gods are thoughtless to their creations. Irresponsible and heartless. Creating and leaving them to survive on their own in a world plagued by malice and suffering.” Those unblinking eyes study this newest creation, lingering upon every inch of her angelic face. The task of subduing his innermost thoughts grew into a chore when gazing upon Akora. Leaning closer, this mysterious black god’s voice grows into a fainting whisper meant only for his daughter. “You are my compassion given form, and my affection is immediate. With my blessings, continue what I have started, and be bothered by no one else they risk my wroth.”

Starting AP: 9AP/1PAP
2AP Create Organization: Wyrm Cult - A budding faith amongst the Minotaurs of Malagor. It begins with the Air Tribe, started by their chieftain, and will soon encompass all of his tribe and perhaps more. Upon a vision quest to beseech the elemental spirits of air for guidance on behalf of his long forgotten and isolated people, Chieftain Hamuul's pleas went unanswered but for a vision of a winged serpent made of starlight.
Ending AP: 8AP

Toxic Mind

2014-07-06, 12:38 PM

The Void

"I think the elves have gorged themselves on the suffering of others quite enough. They are free to take what actions they please, but they will find no more Wayfinders in their lands, beyond those in the Wayshrines. They are welcome to attempt to return to the lands beyond Anval, though I think their new god would feign have them sow death. He seems far more of a lover than a fighter." Kereth sighs again, and nods. "But you are right. I will speak with my son, and you have my word that he will know the error of his ways. I will promise you no more than that." Kereth grabs his staff, and turns to leave. "I have no desire to fight today, duel or otherwise. I came here to avert war, not to start it. You should visit your sister in my halls soon, Mehket. She would like to see you in less... tense circumstances. As would I."

The Tower

A booming laugh echoes from the Sentinel. "You claim the death of Falrak son of Alvar among your list of worthy conquests?" The Sentinel has no true face, no real eyes, but Kalux can feel it staring into his soul. "You are deemed worthy to enter, Kalux of the Fox, but I warn you now. You may lie to yourself, but you cannot lie to the Tower, you cannot trick it, and you cannot worm your way out of its' tests. Tread softly, for you walk now upon the precipice of oblivion."

As the Sentinel steps aside, a door opens into the tower. As Kalux enters, the door shuts behind him, as seamlessly as if it had never been. Kalux find himself in the Antechamber of the Tower, and all around him the crystalline walls shatter the light. Despite being able to see inward from the outside, Kalux can no longer see those outside the tower, which seems impossible, for he can clearly see the crystal landscape that they stand on. Kalux hears a clinking, the sound of crystal lightly striking more crystal. A set of stairs on the far side of the room echoes the sound, and soon enough, Kalux sees a strange sight. A fluid statue, moving as if human, walks down the stairs. It is clearly made of the same material as the Sentinel, but where the guard was all hard edges, this construct was soft and feminine, though once again, no face could be discerned. It speaks in a soft tone, soothing and calm. "Kalux of the Toraq. You have come seeking the reward of the Tower, but first, you must ascend. You cannot do so without passing the challenge on the floor. There are three before you reach the Zenith, and the reward itself. I hope you are prepared." The construct woman vanishes, and with her, the stairs. Kalux is faced with a room, alone, and from every wall and ceiling, his image stares back at him, mocking him.

At first, the reflections turned with him as he walked around the tower, but soon enough, he realized that many were standing still, staring at him. Mirror images, but clearly not reflections. Some smile, some frown, some are expressionless. The way forward is shut, for now. The First Trial begins.

Eshkigal

2014-07-06, 01:08 PM

It's Math
Mekhet rolls his eyes at that.
"It's not a threat, it is pointing out your war threatens everything I have built by happening, because I have made quite a bit. Also waving my own phallic objects around to match the two of you, show you both how damn stupid it is. Offered the realms to everyone too, but people didn't want it, so unless it is claimed it is still mine, I might add. All the spoils you are going on about that would be more than a hollowed out shell by the end would be the things I own, actually. It is pointing out I would rather not bury more relatives. It is pointing out the Unchained are not necessarily going to rally to your side-Naer'Va has joined her love, Merrsahj doesn't leave her happy place, Faines would likely abstain, I don't even know where Iskar is, and you stand on the corpse of another. So right now, I see you and Kar, my sister and brother in law, and while you don't give a s*** about me I do about you two, and fear you may count on a support structure that fails you. I fear that if you win I shall lose my eldest sister and my other brother in law. I fear I lose in every instance save one.

Now, Kereth already knows that if he strikes against me, the effect will be that the Process, which is MINE, I might add, will fall to Oblivion and the Tree will topple upon the Fields. He knows that it will be because of his own damn actions, because I will be too busy fixing things I give a Wop about to bother with the things I lend him or his own land. We had that talk. So now you and me are having this one: you go though with this war and there will be no spoils to claim, because you'll end up breaking it all. Oh, sure, you may go to my stuff, kick me about, take some of it, but I am part of it. It will rot around you because you never bothered learning how to keep it alive and gutted the only one who knew, the one giving it form and function. Not because of some curse, or pettiness, but because you never bothered figuring it out and killed the only one fixing it."

Mekhet stares in the eyes of the God of War, no malice or care there right now, but dead certainty.

"So for once, listen to intent rather than react to interpretation. If you lot go to war, it damn better be within my rings regardless. Only way you won't break everything. Get it?"

Arcran

2014-07-06, 01:25 PM

War Averted

The Void

"I think the elves have gorged themselves on the suffering of others quite enough. They are free to take what actions they please, but they will find no more Wayfinders in their lands, beyond those in the Wayshrines. They are welcome to attempt to return to the lands beyond Anval, though I think their new god would feign have them sow death. He seems far more of a lover than a fighter." Kereth sighs again, and nods. "But you are right. I will speak with my son, and you have my word that he will know the error of his ways. I will promise you no more than that." Kereth grabs his staff, and turns to leave. "I have no desire to fight today, duel or otherwise. I came here to avert war, not to start it. You should visit your sister in my halls soon, Mehket. She would like to see you in less... tense circumstances. As would I."

Artoran nods to Kereth, somewhat satisfied.

"I care not for the elves beyond my bride's love for them. So long as your son stays in line, so shall mine," Artoran says, but as a statement, not a threat.

"Perhaps we shall yet remain friends, God of Death," Artoran states, pulling the soil of his new moon upwards to form a throne.

Trial 1

The Tower

A booming laugh echoes from the Sentinel. "You claim the death of Falrak son of Alvar among your list of worthy conquests?" The Sentinel has no true face, no real eyes, but Kalux can feel it staring into his soul. "You are deemed worthy to enter, Kalux of the Fox, but I warn you now. You may lie to yourself, but you cannot lie to the Tower, you cannot trick it, and you cannot worm your way out of its' tests. Tread softly, for you walk now upon the precipice of oblivion."

As the Sentinel steps aside, a door opens into the tower. As Kalux enters, the door shuts behind him, as seamlessly as if it had never been. Kalux find himself in the Antechamber of the Tower, and all around him the crystalline walls shatter the light. Despite being able to see inward from the outside, Kalux can no longer see those outside the tower, which seems impossible, for he can clearly see the crystal landscape that they stand on. Kalux hears a clinking, the sound of crystal lightly striking more crystal. A set of stairs on the far side of the room echoes the sound, and soon enough, Kalux sees a strange sight. A fluid statue, moving as if human, walks down the stairs. It is clearly made of the same material as the Sentinel, but where the guard was all hard edges, this construct was soft and feminine, though once again, no face could be discerned. It speaks in a soft tone, soothing and calm. "Kalux of the Toraq. You have come seeking the reward of the Tower, but first, you must ascend. You cannot do so without passing the challenge on the floor. There are three before you reach the Zenith, and the reward itself. I hope you are prepared." The construct woman vanishes, and with her, the stairs. Kalux is faced with a room, alone, and from every wall and ceiling, his image stares back at him, mocking him.

At first, the reflections turned with him as he walked around the tower, but soon enough, he realized that many were standing still, staring at him. Mirror images, but clearly not reflections. Some smile, some frown, some are expressionless. The way forward is shut, for now. The First Trial begins.

Three challenges and a reward? Easy enough, Kalux thinks to himself, feeling Silver's silent agreement. They were the best of the Toraq, after all.

Kalux looks around, Silver at his back, the fox helping him to see around the entire room at once. He didn't need to draw a weapon or anything of the like; he was a Toraq after all, and Blood Weapons need no drawing.

Some reflections, some not. As a simple test, Kalux forms a long red line along his arm, watching one of the actual mirror images to see how it responds.

Mekhet

"Leave Mekhet. I will not deal with you," Artoran says, still enraged with the Mad God. "I don't want your spoils of war, twisted as they may be. If it comes to war, keep your things alive and leave your elders to their business. You have no claim here," Artoran says simply.

"Do as you will but do not think that you can command us to do anything."

Toxic Mind

2014-07-06, 02:09 PM

Clever Toraq

As the blood wells from Kalux's arms, the images shift around him. In one reflection, the arm heals seamlessly, while in another, the arm rots and consumes Kalux's body as the image wordlessly screams. Another bleeds out from the wound, all efforts to stop the flow stymied even as across, an image pulls weapons of war from the blood, cutting down a thousand illusory foes. "Weakness" says one. "Strength" says another.

The images now speak to Kalux, their voices echoing all around him, coming from everywhere and nowhere. "First among the Toraq." say some Kaluxes. "So he claims" responds the others. "Unworthy. He cannot see beyond his own self-importance" the voices say with a sense of finality.

Eshkigal

2014-07-06, 02:30 PM

"Command? Never. Tell you that your punches shatter planets when you miss, never mind Drinker in your hands? I think that's a bit different. But of Mechanicus isn't about to start a deific war, and you have no plans to start it either, then it's been a pointless talk born of paranoia and loss."

He gives a tired, worn laugh, one of something fraying, something who fails too much. One who loses too much.

"I mean, it's not like gods I get near keep dying. Like Yooo is gone, or Heramaes, or my boys, or Sideshne. It's not like I have reason to worry about Naer'Va, Kar'Vode'an, or Merrsahj, right? Or you and Kereth, now?"

It gives another strained laugh, just staring out now, body tense, scared, but not of the Axe, not of Artoran. Maybe for?

"Please, keep Kar safe. Keep yourself safe. Congratulations on your marriage."

The shards withdraw from the world, forming back into the tendrils from the Rings before pausing, stopping at a moon that is not part of the original five. Slowly, gently, the tendrils wrap around it.

4 AP
Weave Plane-4AP: Moon of Mon'Lupus. Mekhet is now the caretaker of the wolf moon. When Akora comes for the moon, it shall be hers.

0 AP remaining

Eshkigal

2014-07-06, 03:33 PM

"If every god seems to think that they are right... THEN WHY DON'T YOU PROVE THEM WRONG? Shove their wrongness down their throats if you have to... UNTIL THEY SEE THINGS YOUR WAY! Lemme tell YOU something! For reasons I cannot fathom I AM NOT A GOD! Although I should be worshiped... BUT THAT IS NOT THE POINT! I was born as a mistake and raised as a joke. I wanted to become a Thespian... but fate turned me into a clown... you know how many clowns manage a successful career in the theaters? NOT FRAKKIN' MANY! But despite all that I WILL NEVER GIVE UP DESPITE EVERYTHING, THE GODS, FATE AND THIS WORLD HAS THROWN AT ME! You wanna know what needs fixing?"

"YOU!" The insane Goblin points an accusing finger at Mekhet as he screams.

"If I was a god? I can tell ya! The one thing I wouldn't be doing... IS MOPING AROUND FEELING SORRY FOR MYSELF!"

Mekhet looks at the little goblin, and sighs.
"Easier said than done. I am weakest among gods, my power still that of one in their infancy by my own doing, and the ones who shall most likely see this start are the four strongest, the ones no other god can match in terms of power, and that gives them a sure ness of themselves I cannot punch through easily, though even now I am trying. I was born of mortal dreams and Yooo, the Great Ooze Dragon. That makes me different than most gods, for I feel loss as keenly as a mortal. But like the others, I have no understanding of how to cope, for gods normally don't have to worry about the loss of their own kind, especially those they hold dear. Especially within days of the events. So...how do mortals cope? I knew of drinking it away, but that seems to be something I cannot do. How else do you cope?"

Shmee

2014-07-06, 04:30 PM

Mekhet looks at the little goblin, and sighs.
"Easier said than done. I am weakest among gods, my power still that of one in their infancy by my own doing, and the ones who shall most likely see this start are the four strongest, the ones no other god can match in terms of power, and that gives them a sure ness of themselves I cannot punch through easily, though even now I am trying. I was born of mortal dreams and Yooo, the Great Ooze Dragon. That makes me different than most gods, for I feel loss as keenly as a mortal. But like the others, I have no understanding of how to cope, for gods normally don't have to worry about the loss of their own kind, especially those they hold dear. Especially within days of the events. So...how do mortals cope? I knew of drinking it away, but that seems to be something I cannot do. How else do you cope?"

Skreechy gives a sly smile at Mekhet. "You wanna know how I cope huh? Do ya? Huh? Really huh? Do ya? Well then... if you really want to know how I cope at all the dung that I've literally have had to crawl my way out of..." he takes a moment to look around to make sure that no one would hear his secret.

"BY SCREAMING!" hollers the Goblin unleashing a fit of anger as he beings to thrash around uncontrollably. Had Mekhet not grabbed it with a tentacle, who knows what it might have been capable of "... from time to time..." and all of a sudden the rage pent up within the little creature was gone. "In case you haven't notice, people enjoy picking on weak little people. BUT I DON'T LET THAT STOP ME AS I GIVE THEM A QUICK KICK IN THE SHIN AND RUN AWAY LAUGHING! WHO'S LAUGHING NOW WITH THE BRUISED SHIN! THROW PEANUTS AT ME WILL YOU? MWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA" Skreechy begins cackling again to the heavens. "Have you ever screamed? Or kicked someone in the shin? Its does wonders for when you are feeling down..."

"For you see... I know that they have taken everything from me... when you get sat upon by an elephant, it kinda takes your dignity away as well... but you know what the difference between you and me is... besides being an inferior not-goblin and your ability to rearrange the cosmos as you see fit? Despite being small... weak... ugly... picked on... misunderstood... alone... I... NEVER... KNOW... WHEN... TO... QUIT!" All of a sudden the Goblin is getting angry again as he begins to trash around "IF I'M GONNA GO DOWN, I'M GONNA DO DOWN KICKING, SCREAMING, PUNCHING ... did I mention screaming?.... oh well... just in case... AND SCREAMING!" either this Goblin was a master of his emotions... or he was reveling in his bipolar disorder. "Oh...and if I was in your position? I'd throw some peanuts on the gods. Force them to taste the hell that I'm going through... WOULD SERVE THEM RIGHT TOO!" he says as an afterthought, thus giving his bizarre advise.

"But this is my secret... so this is between you and I alright? Don't go telling no one... it wouldn't be nice of you." he asks Mekhet despite the fact that he was yelling his secret for all to hear.

Eldamar

2014-07-06, 07:25 PM

Spire of Quark

The great white dragon gives the child’s offer careful consideration. Their island nation, unknown and unseen from the world at large, guarded by thousands of goblins and three dragon-sorcerers the like of which none have seen on this world, all of their power and wisdom overshadowed by this young warrior-child? Nazthiiros’ tail curls around the young boy’s waist, squeezing him uncomfortably tight as he hoists him up to dangle over the edge of the Spire. Dangling by a dragon’s tail over a two hundred and fifty foot drop to the courtyard below, whether the child knew so or not, the dragon was not amused.

“Your services in battle are hardly worth a slice of pickle. Come now, I’ve heard the tales of your people’s prowess. Skills in battle, taming of beasts, feats of physical endurance. Present me with something of tangible or strategic benefit that will service all of Quark. Beyond you’re obvious skill in battle.”

Gulf Between Anval and Galvastia

“Land ahead! Captain! Captain!” The lookout, a scrawny little goblin whelp mostly arms and legs points off the bow towards the north, screeching at the top of his lungs and dinging a brass bell. The crew of unwashed goblins scurry to the deck to catch a glimpse, climbing and clinging to every piece of rope and ledge they can find, some hopping atop the larger crewmates. The Seat Hag’s captain stood atop the upper deck, peering through a bronze eyeglass towards the island.

“Change course, helmsmen, let’s hope those rat bastards haven’t wiped their arses across this island too.” Captain Flint conjures a mouthful of thick yellow phlegm to hack across the deck. That damned whoreson Blackwhisker has managed to beat him across half the southern seas, and he’d sooner hang himself than let the sniveling mongrel steal his thunder. Rats were craven halfwits who won by out ****ing the competition. Damn the Council, he was going to kill every damned rat-crewed ship he came across. These seas were his.

The middle-aged captain was tall for his kind, nearly five foot tall, with a crop of short cut red hairs and great braided goatee. His pale blue skin grew dark out in the sun for all these years, with great freckles spreading out over every inch of exposed skin. His nose was short and stubby, ears long and pointed, and eyes a burning red. In his previous life, he was an apprentice of great talent amongst the sorcerers of quark, but while guarding a caravan bound to Verenzano a decade ago, his master and most of his fellows were murdered by a pack of abominations.

Sea Hag’s canvas sails dome from the strong winds, driving them faster towards the island. The quartermaster already unlocking the armory doors and passing out cutlasses, short spears, slings, and axes. The crimes of the Skizzik were legend to his people, and their hatred for them was kindled early and smoldered all their lives. Over three dozen skizzik tails were already strung from the main mast as grizzly trophies of the poor sods they’ve run across and skinned during their travels.

“Get the water casks on deck and READY! Every git who can fight better be in a boat before we drop anchor or I’ll see to it you’re stung overboard by your thumbs! MR. MERCER, how are the pickles?!” Captain Flint bellows at the top of his considerable lungs as the deck becomes a swarming mass of bodies and voices. An older goblin, a sorcerer himself by the hooded robes, pops his head out a cabin window.

“Going a bit sour, sir, but otherwise edible!” The beady-eyed goblin pops his head back into his darkened cabin, grinning deviously at the five sealed barrels labeled pickles tucked away in the corner.

Dragonsage

2014-07-06, 10:59 PM

Forge of Sparks

Akora and Mirmulnir

“Many gods are thoughtless to their creations. Irresponsible and heartless. Creating and leaving them to survive on their own in a world plagued by malice and suffering.” Those unblinking eyes study this newest creation, lingering upon every inch of her angelic face. The task of subduing his innermost thoughts grew into a chore when gazing upon Akora. Leaning closer, this mysterious black god’s voice grows into a fainting whisper meant only for his daughter. “You are my compassion given form, and my affection is immediate. With my blessings, continue what I have started, and be bothered by no one else they risk my wroth.”

After being given her father's blessings to go forward, an expression of joy was present on her face before she suddenly leaned in closer and wrapped Mirmulnir in a hug. "Thank you, Originator. I will carry forward dauntlessly in what I must do." She released the lord of secrets from her hold before starting to fade away from the Forge of Sparks in her own shimmering lights, which faded with her departure.

While in transit to the mortal realm, Akora felt a slight shift on the lunar planes so she allocated a portion of her focus to go investigate while she continued on wards.

~Fighting evil by moonlight~

The moon goddess materialized herself above one of the moons with her hands on her hips as looks about her surroundings. "And what is going on here?" She asked her rhetorical question as she floated over to tendrils engulfing one of the moons. "You gentlemen planning something with my moons?" Her gazes goes from tendrils and lingers on Artoran.

~The Vrykin~

Under the light of the moons, Akora appears above the lands of Aetherys, just on the edge of the Vrykin's warchief's of reach influence. From above, the goddess can spy a few small Vrykin settlements. As she approached the closest one, she could already tell that the living conditions for the people are poor at best and that their culture had stagnated long ago since their abandonment.

With the lights of the moon shining upon her as she lands in center of the Vrykin village, some a number of warriors come greet Akora with their hands on the hilts of their swords, clearly out of paranoia from having lived for so long with no proper guidance in such a harsh world. Although the warriors had their hands ready to draw their blades, none actually seemed willing to, they seemed more curious than aggressive towards the maiden who had came from above. It wasn't long before the whole population of the settlement had surrounded her and had begun curious whispering about her.

"Please do not fret. I am here to offer you my guidance, love, and truth." She spoke in her calm soothing voice as she studied each individual face, which had the effect of each individual feeling as if they being spoken to one on one. After some murmerings among the crowds, she continued. "For too long your people have gone fought in this harsh world...alone, but no more. I will care for you all now, and I will not turn a blind eye to you all."

At that moment Akora felt a small tug on her pelts. Looking down, she met the gaze of a little Vrykin girl. "Will you really take care of us?" The girl's face was dirtied with mud and look around the crowd was the evidence the Maiden needed to know that girl was orphaned.

Akora reached down to pick up the girl and held her like she was her own child, before wiping away some the mud on the girl's face. "Yes, for I am truth and will not go back on my word." She gave the child a bright calming smile, which seemed to have brightened the girl's spirits by some great deal. "What is you're name, young one so brave?"

"Lo-Loren... The people here call me Loren." Loren seemed to blush slightly as Akora continued to remove the mud from her face. "How do you plan on helping us?"

"First, I shall remind you all that none of you are alone." She removed the last bit of mud before back towards the crowd. "Always know that you all have each other to depend on, even if your warchief has forgotten you. Find strength and comfort, not just from me but from one another.

Secondly, you are a scattered people and must brought together, under a new banner if necessary. Go seek out your downtrodden kinsmen and bring them together. Remind them they are not alone, and that I will watch over them now." Positive murmuring could be heard from the crowd before some broke out into a cheer.

AP: 15-3 =12
Create Lesser Concept: Marriage AP 1
Whether it be for love, procreation, or political marriage is a wonderful thing which can bring together people. There is a comfort in knowing that there is someone to care for at the end of the day who will, in turn, care for you.

Create organization: Akora's Waifs 2 AP
As part of her compassion, the goddess of the moon has created a society where any hopeless and abandoned may gather under her guidance, originating with the Vrykin, who now believe that a warchief is no longer suited to rule but instead have opted for a matriarchy with the belief that the more compassionate gender should govern.

DoctorGlock

2014-07-06, 11:17 PM

A Coat of Gold, A Coat of Red

Shalee scrubbed the golden disc with a finger, frowning as the blood simply smeared around it. Had it been her own blood it would come at her beck and call but this? Some silly human that thought it was theirs after the sack.

Next to her a few humans labor to pull one of the many great wagons that Shalee and her tribe had gathered. Good workers, humans. For however weak they seemed they had the endurance of an ox with the right motivation.

With a sigh Shalee holds the coin out towards Gold, the rough feline tongue quickly removing any trace of blood from the small bit of gold. Now it might be almost usable.

With a toss over the shoulder the gold returns to the wagon, only to cause a far greater clatter than a piece of that size should cause. Shalee turns, worried that her great wealth had fallen into disarray, that the cart had broken somehow.

Instead she sees the gold twisting and turning, spinning upwards, ever upwards, seeming to spontaneously melt as it went from shape to shape. Soon the liquid gold had begun to slow down its frenzied whirl, becoming the shape of a golden being.

Many Toraq Tribes would have attacked the creature, had they given a damn about gold. Shalee's, on the other hand, was different. Her wealth had become alive, turned into some sort of great idol. Without hardly a thought the Toraqi woman bows before it, the Beasts and the rest of the tribe soon following suit.

Using The Great Boar to create Tribe Lion (https://ancientsofthevoid.obsidianportal.com/wikis/lion-tribe)

It's not the stuff, it's the value!

Gold is desired. It is valuable because it is desired. It has a comfortable weight rooted in scarcity and desire. It is not the only thing. Gems. Silver. Marble. Iron, though its value is built into utility rather than scarcity.

Still, a heap of those is very comfortable.

So being thrust from a pile of value into the harsh and empty air of existence is understandably jarring.

Clattering and shaking, gold and gems collided, forming a humanoid shape. Too gaudy, it thought. More subtle... refined...

A golden foot struck the ground. Dust and sand shifted and rumbled as broken marble exploded from the earth and from the treasure heaps, flowing into an idealized humanoid form. The gold that was the entirety of its being shifted into veins cutting through the marble. Eyes of moonstone and alabaster with irises of sapphire blinked open in the marble face.

Much better. Now it could have gold in addition to simply being gold.

Now that it had eyes, it looked around. A multitude of Toraqi meat-creatures were bowing. So were a host of human meat things. No matter, they had no intrinsic value. Meat was common.

Wait. Worshipers. Ok, that was a commodity. Commodities were trade-able or fungible. Ok. I can work with this.

“Arise, flesh beings. Arise and gather-- oh for the love of god. Me. I have no clothes. How the hell am I supposed to be taken seriously without clothes? Should I threaten to club people with my marble rod like some sort of barbarian!? You there!” the god snapped, pointing to the Toraq called Shalee. “I need garments! No, make that many garments. I like many things. Nice things. What do the wealthiest and most respected among nations wear? Let us acquire some.”

Shalee, like most of the tribe, was too busy staring to be taken aback at this. And naked. Zahav sighed.

“Ok, maybe we got on the wrong foot here, so lets try again, because I am pretty damned certain I didn't stutter. I am” the god thought for the briefest of moments before the sylables rolled of his tongue. They felt natural for describing him. “Zahav-Zalal. I am the new boss. The head honcho. The big kahuna. And you lot exist to accumulate value for me. And yourselves in doing so. You know, more people with more wealth spreads. At least it feels that way. I digress. See, what I see is potential. A few wagons full of shiny crap. I like it. But that is overall very limited. I want more wagons and I am willing to bet you also do. But those are not going to materialize if you are bent over and genuflecting! Get up, make sales, and close dammit! And clothes while we're at it. So again, garments. Many. Me. Now.”

Wordlessly, coming out of the divine induced stupor, Shalee nodded. She led him to where goods were being sorted. As she did, tribesmen brought clothes from the spoils, velvets and linens and silks. They dropped them in a pile at Zahav-Zalal's feet.

“Wait, Back the hell up for one moment. Yeah, I am the boss, but I see a huge problem with the way you think here. These,” the god said, gesturing at the pile of clothes, “are valuable commodities. And you lot are forking them over for free. How in hell are you supposed to turn a profit by giving **** away? New rule. Commandment even! No handouts. No free ****. You turn profits here! What is this pile worth?” he snapped.

Voices spoke out hesitantly from the crowd.

“Two ounces of gold.”

“Forty ounces of silver.”

“Three tons of rice.”

“Ten cows.”

There was a faint clicking sound. Ah that was his eye twitching. “So, you have a load of riches in front of you, and none of you can tell me what it is worth. Ok, you can tell me what it is worth, but what the hell happens if I got gold and you want cows? Or rice? You are going to trade for the cows, which you will trade for the rice which you will trade for the gold? How many inefficient middlemen do you need? No! You have value, you just need it to be understood. Because all of those things are the same. At least the value is. So here goes...”

Zahav held up a hand. Molten gold flowed from a vein in his wrist until it took the form of a gold disc. The same one Shalee had held before. He slammed his hands together on the disk. When he opened them again, it was stamped with an image of his face on one hand and a number on the back.

“This is a Zalal. It is one ounce of gold.” He slammed his hands together again and revealed a second one. “Now we have the value of this pile. You can take these two Zalals and trade them to anyone, and I mean anyone, for ten cows, three tons of rice, whatever. Because that is what they are worth. He can trade the Zalals for anything. See? Abstract value. Now you are asking 'what if I don't need three whole tons of rice? Well, looky here!” Slamming his hands together on the coins, he opened them to reveal twenty much smaller coins. Now look, two of these smaller ones buys one cow. He slammed his palms together again. A tide of silver poured out. Again, copper this time. Units of value. Abstract in physical form.

The coins melted back into his veins as he picked up some garments. “Of course it helps if you actually owned any of this to sell, but it's the thought that counts. You lot have a lot to learn. You are going to take me to the richest city. There, I am going to make us all richer than you lot can imagine, and rich enough that I might consider it a good start."

"Also put some goddamn pants on, were are going to be interacting with others, and looking good makes better deals. We have money to make."

Actions:

Create lesser open concept: Currency. 1 AP

Eshkigal

2014-07-06, 11:23 PM

The Moons

The tendrils slowly spin the moon around, examining it.
"One I had not meant to make, a god who would have been my son, made this moon. He died in the Silence before I could repair myself. I would see to it that I do not fail to preserve his work at least."

Dragonsage

2014-07-07, 04:55 PM

~Teh Moon~

Akora's expression softens as she crosses her arms and moves closer to the tendrils of Mekhet and peers through them to see the surface of the moon itself. "This burden is no longer yours alone to carry. I will care for this moon now." She then placed a hand on one of the tendrils, so that she may feel Mekhet and assure him.

Arcran

2014-07-07, 09:39 PM

Dead Men Rising

Clever Toraq

As the blood wells from Kalux's arms, the images shift around him. In one reflection, the arm heals seamlessly, while in another, the arm rots and consumes Kalux's body as the image wordlessly screams. Another bleeds out from the wound, all efforts to stop the flow stymied even as across, an image pulls weapons of war from the blood, cutting down a thousand illusory foes. "Weakness" says one. "Strength" says another.

The images now speak to Kalux, their voices echoing all around him, coming from everywhere and nowhere. "First among the Toraq." say some Kaluxes. "So he claims" responds the others. "Unworthy. He cannot see beyond his own self-importance" the voices say with a sense of finality.

Despite being more than a little vicious, Kalux cannot help but wince as he watches himself die a thousand deaths. He can feel Silver feel the same as the old fox watches.

Kalux thinks on the words. See beyond his own self-importance felt like a clue, but how? Attacking a crystalline statue would be, well, likely suicide. Suicide for a lesser Toraq, that is.

For now, Kalux slices off his left hand, forcing the Pureblood to not allow it to regrow as he coats the floor with his own blood, watching it twist and turn across the floor.

"And who among the Toraq is more worthy?" he shouts, more to buy time than anything.

Is Silver in the mirror images?

A Fool God

"Command? Never. Tell you that your punches shatter planets when you miss, never mind Drinker in your hands? I think that's a bit different. But of Mechanicus isn't about to start a deific war, and you have no plans to start it either, then it's been a pointless talk born of paranoia and loss."

He gives a tired, worn laugh, one of something fraying, something who fails too much. One who loses too much.

"I mean, it's not like gods I get near keep dying. Like Yooo is gone, or Heramaes, or my boys, or Sideshne. It's not like I have reason to worry about Naer'Va, Kar'Vode'an, or Merrsahj, right? Or you and Kereth, now?"

It gives another strained laugh, just staring out now, body tense, scared, but not of the Axe, not of Artoran. Maybe for?

"Please, keep Kar safe. Keep yourself safe. Congratulations on your marriage."

The shards withdraw from the world, forming back into the tendrils from the Rings before pausing, stopping at a moon that is not part of the original five. Slowly, gently, the tendrils wrap around it.

4 AP
Weave Plane-4AP: Moon of Mon'Lupus. Mekhet is now the caretaker of the wolf moon. When Akora comes for the moon, it shall be hers.

0 AP remaining

Artoran grumbles as he sits once more upon the plane, watching Mekhet go.

"Start whatever war I want to start," he mumbles incoherently, watching the plane below.

An Upstart

After being given her father's blessings to go forward, an expression of joy was present on her face before she suddenly leaned in closer and wrapped Mirmulnir in a hug. "Thank you, Originator. I will carry forward dauntlessly in what I must do." She released the lord of secrets from her hold before starting to fade away from the Forge of Sparks in her own shimmering lights, which faded with her departure.

While in transit to the mortal realm, Akora felt a slight shift on the lunar planes so she allocated a portion of her focus to go investigate while she continued on wards.

~Fighting evil by moonlight~

The moon goddess materialized herself above one of the moons with her hands on her hips as looks about her surroundings. "And what is going on here?" She asked her rhetorical question as she floated over to tendrils engulfing one of the moons. "You gentlemen planning something with my moons?" Her gazes goes from tendrils and lingers on Artoran.

"Your moons?" Artoran asks, rising from his seat in anger. "What claim do you have?" he says, striding over to tower over the new goddess, his power completely dwarfing that of the newborn goddess. Seemed new gods were appearing like flies around a corpse now.

Strange Toraq

It's not the stuff, it's the value!

Gold is desired. It is valuable because it is desired. It has a comfortable weight rooted in scarcity and desire. It is not the only thing. Gems. Silver. Marble. Iron, though its value is built into utility rather than scarcity.

Still, a heap of those is very comfortable.

So being thrust from a pile of value into the harsh and empty air of existence is understandably jarring.

Clattering and shaking, gold and gems collided, forming a humanoid shape. Too gaudy, it thought. More subtle... refined...

A golden foot struck the ground. Dust and sand shifted and rumbled as broken marble exploded from the earth and from the treasure heaps, flowing into an idealized humanoid form. The gold that was the entirety of its being shifted into veins cutting through the marble. Eyes of moonstone and alabaster with irises of sapphire blinked open in the marble face.

Much better. Now it could have gold in addition to simply being gold.

Now that it had eyes, it looked around. A multitude of Toraqi meat-creatures were bowing. So were a host of human meat things. No matter, they had no intrinsic value. Meat was common.

Wait. Worshipers. Ok, that was a commodity. Commodities were trade-able or fungible. Ok. I can work with this.

“Arise, flesh beings. Arise and gather-- oh for the love of god. Me. I have no clothes. How the hell am I supposed to be taken seriously without clothes? Should I threaten to club people with my marble rod like some sort of barbarian!? You there!” the god snapped, pointing to the Toraq called Shalee. “I need garments! No, make that many garments. I like many things. Nice things. What do the wealthiest and most respected among nations wear? Let us acquire some.”

Shalee, like most of the tribe, was too busy staring to be taken aback at this. And naked. Zahav sighed.

“Ok, maybe we got on the wrong foot here, so lets try again, because I am pretty damned certain I didn't stutter. I am” the god thought for the briefest of moments before the sylables rolled of his tongue. They felt natural for describing him. “Zahav-Zalal. I am the new boss. The head honcho. The big kahuna. And you lot exist to accumulate value for me. And yourselves in doing so. You know, more people with more wealth spreads. At least it feels that way. I digress. See, what I see is potential. A few wagons full of shiny crap. I like it. But that is overall very limited. I want more wagons and I am willing to bet you also do. But those are not going to materialize if you are bent over and genuflecting! Get up, make sales, and close dammit! And clothes while we're at it. So again, garments. Many. Me. Now.”

Wordlessly, coming out of the divine induced stupor, Shalee nodded. She led him to where goods were being sorted. As she did, tribesmen brought clothes from the spoils, velvets and linens and silks. They dropped them in a pile at Zahav-Zalal's feet.

“Wait, Back the hell up for one moment. Yeah, I am the boss, but I see a huge problem with the way you think here. These,” the god said, gesturing at the pile of clothes, “are valuable commodities. And you lot are forking them over for free. How in hell are you supposed to turn a profit by giving **** away? New rule. Commandment even! No handouts. No free ****. You turn profits here! What is this pile worth?” he snapped.

Voices spoke out hesitantly from the crowd.

“Two ounces of gold.”

“Forty ounces of silver.”

“Three tons of rice.”

“Ten cows.”

There was a faint clicking sound. Ah that was his eye twitching. “So, you have a load of riches in front of you, and none of you can tell me what it is worth. Ok, you can tell me what it is worth, but what the hell happens if I got gold and you want cows? Or rice? You are going to trade for the cows, which you will trade for the rice which you will trade for the gold? How many inefficient middlemen do you need? No! You have value, you just need it to be understood. Because all of those things are the same. At least the value is. So here goes...”

Zahav held up a hand. Molten gold flowed from a vein in his wrist until it took the form of a gold disc. The same one Shalee had held before. He slammed his hands together on the disk. When he opened them again, it was stamped with an image of his face on one hand and a number on the back.

“This is a Zalal. It is one ounce of gold.” He slammed his hands together again and revealed a second one. “Now we have the value of this pile. You can take these two Zalals and trade them to anyone, and I mean anyone, for ten cows, three tons of rice, whatever. Because that is what they are worth. He can trade the Zalals for anything. See? Abstract value. Now you are asking 'what if I don't need three whole tons of rice? Well, looky here!” Slamming his hands together on the coins, he opened them to reveal twenty much smaller coins. Now look, two of these smaller ones buys one cow. He slammed his palms together again. A tide of silver poured out. Again, copper this time. Units of value. Abstract in physical form.

The coins melted back into his veins as he picked up some garments. “Of course it helps if you actually owned any of this to sell, but it's the thought that counts. You lot have a lot to learn. You are going to take me to the richest city. There, I am going to make us all richer than you lot can imagine, and rich enough that I might consider it a good start."

"Also put some goddamn pants on, were are going to be interacting with others, and looking good makes better deals. We have money to make."

Actions:

Create lesser open concept: Currency. 1 AP

Shalee looks to the golden god, now of less gold than before.

"Why would I trade my gold?" she says simply, Gold growling his agreement. "What is good about giving my gold for rice? Why not just kill the man with the rice and take both the gold and the rice?" Shalee inquires, clearly perplexed by the notion of fair barter.

"Why would I wear clothes when I can move easier without them? Why should the Toraq lead you to a city we are sworn to protect? You take a cart of shiny-things and replace it with less shiny-things. What will you give us for it?" Shalee asks, the tribe slowly nodding as well. Gold begins to slink forward, the massive cat eying the golden god warily.

"You are of gold and do not give us gold. Why should we follow you? Why should we not just make you slave and make you give us gold?"

An Ignorant Child

Spire of Quark

The great white dragon gives the child’s offer careful consideration. Their island nation, unknown and unseen from the world at large, guarded by thousands of goblins and three dragon-sorcerers the like of which none have seen on this world, all of their power and wisdom overshadowed by this young warrior-child? Nazthiiros’ tail curls around the young boy’s waist, squeezing him uncomfortably tight as he hoists him up to dangle over the edge of the Spire. Dangling by a dragon’s tail over a two hundred and fifty foot drop to the courtyard below, whether the child knew so or not, the dragon was not amused.

“Your services in battle are hardly worth a slice of pickle. Come now, I’ve heard the tales of your people’s prowess. Skills in battle, taming of beasts, feats of physical endurance. Present me with something of tangible or strategic benefit that will service all of Quark. Beyond you’re obvious skill in battle.”

The child looks over the great depths below and thinks. He couldn't teach them anything the Kalux would be mad about. Weapons would be bad. Archery would be bad. Blood Weapons... Could not-Toraq do that? Still, making an animal friend was easy, right? Even a child could do that!

"Icanteachyoutobefriendswithanimals," the child says rapidly, shutting his eyes to avoid looking down. "It'sreallyeasyjustdon'tdropmeeeee," he says, seemingly about to cry.

DoctorGlock

2014-07-07, 09:57 PM

Why Would I Trade?

Shalee looks to the golden god, now of less gold than before.

"Why would I trade my gold?" she says simply, Gold growling his agreement. "What is good about giving my gold for rice? Why not just kill the man with the rice and take both the gold and the rice?" Shalee inquires, clearly perplexed by the notion of fair barter.

"Why would I wear clothes when I can move easier without them? Why should the Toraq lead you to a city we are sworn to protect? You take a cart of shiny-things and replace it with less shiny-things. What will you give us for it?" Shalee asks, the tribe slowly nodding as well. Gold begins to slink forward, the massive cat eying the golden god warily.

"You are of gold and do not give us gold. Why should we follow you? Why should we not just make you slave and make you give us gold?"

Geese and Golden Eggs

A wheezy clattering sound emerged from the god. It rose in volume until the toraq realized he was laughing. "Your hearts are in the right place at least," the god chuckled. "You want it all. So do I. It seems we disagree about how to do so." Zalal slouched down on the pile of silks and gold like it was a throne. "So let me pose you a question. If you kill a man and take everything he owns, can you rob him again?"

Arcran

2014-07-07, 10:06 PM

Deep Pockets

Geese and Golden Eggs

A wheezy clattering sound emerged from the god. It rose in volume until the toraq realized he was laughing. "Your hearts are in the right place at least," the god chuckled. "You want it all. So do I. It seems we disagree about how to do so." Zalal slouched down on the pile of silks and gold like it was a throne. "So let me pose you a question. If you kill a man and take everything he owns, can you rob him again?"

"Teach us that art and we shall follow you forever!" Shalee says with a laugh.

"But no, you cannot rob a dead man. But there are many men alive. There are more men than we can steal from in a lifetime," Shalee says, full of confidence. "We kill one man, we find another to steal from. A simple issue."

Toxic Mind

2014-07-07, 10:09 PM

Who is worthy?

Who is worthy?

The images say, a mocking echo.

Answer. Who is more worthy than you? Who should take your place when you fail?

Fail.

Fail.

The images cry, and even the mouths of the corpses move.

So clever, so bold.

So haughty, so proud.

So ARROGANT.

So high and mighty, the greatest among the others.

The images fall silent as one, awaiting Kalux. Silver is present in none of them, but even as the fox sniffs around, she can sense nothing around her, no human presence at all save for Kalux

DoctorGlock

2014-07-07, 10:27 PM

Deep Pockets

"Teach us that art and we shall follow you forever!" Shalee says with a laugh.

"But no, you cannot rob a dead man. But there are many men alive. There are more men than we can steal from in a lifetime," Shalee says, full of confidence. "We kill one man, we find another to steal from. A simple issue."

Free Markets

"That's exactly the art I intend to teach you. So follow my thinking for a minute. Lets say you have a man who makes one of these Zalals each week," he says, flipping a coin out of nowhere to Shalee. "You rob him and kill him after three weeks and you have three Zalals. Now instead, what if you rob him every week without killing him? In a month you have four Zalals." he punctuates the sentence by flinging more coins at Shalee. "Now in a year?" he opens his hands and a tide of gold rains down.

"But after a while the man grows tired of being robbed, so instead he hides his Zalals or takes a different road. It becomes so much harder to find him and rob him. Maybe he buys guards. Now there is less money to take after you kill them. But what if instead, every week, the man came to you and wanted to give you his Zalal?"

"What if he came to you with a Zalal and said he would give it to you for the price of one of these?" Zahav said, braindishing a far smaller silver coin. "You would think he is crazy. After all the gold one is worth so much more. But if he thinks he is getting the better deal, he will keep coming back! Forever!"

"Now how much gold do you have?" Zahav-Zalal asked with a diamond grin. "Now what if you can pull that trick on everybody?"

Arcran

2014-07-07, 10:52 PM

Shattered Copies

Who is worthy?

Who is worthy?

The images say, a mocking echo.

Answer. Who is more worthy than you? Who should take your place when you fail?

Fail.

Fail.

The images cry, and even the mouths of the corpses move.

So clever, so bold.

So haughty, so proud.

So ARROGANT.

So high and mighty, the greatest among the others.

The images fall silent as one, awaiting Kalux. Silver is present in none of them, but even as the fox sniffs around, she can sense nothing around her, no human presence at all save for Kalux

Without a shred of emotion Kalux extends his arm, a great deal of blood flowing around it. Soon a great ball, at least eight feet in diameter, is formed. Silver quickly darts in front of Kalux and, just like that, the orb flies forward like a cannonball on a direct course towards the copy that had created a Blood Weapon when he cut himself.

With a quick flick Kalux watches his hand finally reform, a satisfied smirk on his face as he waits for the result of his action. It's unlikely to be good but why should that matter? He was the best of the Toraq and no feeble images could convince him otherwise.

Still, the words were affecting him more than they should and Kalux cannot resist taunting the images.

"Who is feeble now?" he cries as the ball flies forward, not even waiting for the result.

Silly Gods

Free Markets

"That's exactly the art I intend to teach you. So follow my thinking for a minute. Lets say you have a man who makes one of these Zalals each week," he says, flipping a coin out of nowhere to Shalee. "You rob him and kill him after three weeks and you have three Zalals. Now instead, what if you rob him every week without killing him? In a month you have four Zalals." he punctuates the sentence by flinging more coins at Shalee. "Now in a year?" he opens his hands and a tide of gold rains down.

"But after a while the man grows tired of being robbed, so instead he hides his Zalals or takes a different road. It becomes so much harder to find him and rob him. Maybe he buys guards. Now there is less money to take after you kill them. But what if instead, every week, the man came to you and wanted to give you his Zalal?"

"What if he came to you with a Zalal and said he would give it to you for the price of one of these?" Zahav said, braindishing a far smaller silver coin. "You would think he is crazy. After all the gold one is worth so much more. But if he thinks he is getting the better deal, he will keep coming back! Forever!"

"Now how much gold do you have?" Zahav-Zalal asked with a diamond grin. "Now what if you can pull that trick on everybody?"

"But what if I rob ten people for four Zalals?" the Toraqi woman says, confused. "Then I have a lot of gold and I can still rob people. Things are easy that way!" she says, strong in her beliefs.

"Still, people giving us gold is good," Shalee says, again to agreement. "What do you do for making people want to give us gold?"

Toxic Mind

2014-07-07, 11:01 PM

The Trial

The blood orb smashes against the reflection, shattering it. Behind it lies nothing. Not darkness, for even darkness has a shape, a feel, to it. This is oblivion, the absolute lack of anything. From the ground, the man within the fractured shards laughs.

So strong

So weak

Strength will never avail you

So arrogant, to think himself above all others

How long will they mourn when your body tumbles from our embrace?

How long before another greatest rises?

Weak!

Feeble!

If a man stands before an army, he will fall, no matter his skill, no matter his power, for he is just a man.

Who is the strongest?

Tell us.

Tell us and live.

The voices sound all around him, pressing in on him, even as the sweet release of oblivion looms ahead, promising freedom from the voices, freedom from the taunts.

The Shattered Kalux laughs from the floor, a sound Kalux has heard before when he laughed at his vanquished foes. But even now he can hear the madness in the laughter.

And it is only when Silver turns and tilts its head that Kalux realizes that some of the laughter is coming from his own mouth.

DoctorGlock

2014-07-07, 11:06 PM

Silly Gods

"But what if I rob ten people for four Zalals?" the Toraqi woman says, confused. "Then I have a lot of gold and I can still rob people. Things are easy that way!" she says, strong in her beliefs.

"Still, people giving us gold is good," Shalee says, again to agreement. "What do you do for making people want to give us gold?"

"And what if ten people give you five Zalals? What if they tell their friends about the wonderful things they got and now ten of their friends come with their Zalals? We just have to convence them that somthing that costs this" he says, holding up the silver coin, "is worth this," he says, holding up the Zalal. And I have plans for how to make many many people want to give us their Zalals for our..." he pauses, smiles and slams his hands together, revealing Shalee's face on the silver disk. "what were you called again?" he said with a smile.

Dragonsage

2014-07-08, 04:01 AM

An Upstart

"Your moons?" Artoran asks, rising from his seat in anger. "What claim do you have?" he says, striding over to tower over the new goddess, his power completely dwarfing that of the newborn goddess. Seemed new gods were appearing like flies around a corpse now.

~something else Sailor moon related~

Akora turns away from the tendrils to face Artoran, her soft expression faded as the senior god approached her. "Yes, my moons!" She placed her hands back on her hips as she glared at the god. She could feel the deference in power, but still she stood her ground against him. "I feel them as a part of myself. I am Akora, goddess of the moons!" Her hair and tattoo runes began to shimmer with moon light before the Moon of Mon'Lupus reacted as well, by briefly glowing.

Shmee

2014-07-08, 08:11 AM

Kar'Vode'an, the Sun

From within the Solar Halls of Kar'Sol, the goddess of Love watches as her father seeks to make his own claims. However she senses a presence that she had never felt before. Perhaps it would be a good idea to welcome the neighbors after all... not to mention, she had unfinished business with Mekhet as well.

As the gods quarrel over the ownership of the moon, a storm of rose petals erupt signaling her arrival as Kar'Vode'an appears behind her husband. She places a calming hand on the blood god's shoulder as the Sun Queen faces the Moon Princess "And I am Kar'Vode'an, goddess of the Sun." she says while smiling. She was not wearing her mask, and so her face and in fact her entire being was still radiating pure light from her conquest of the Sun "You should be careful how you glow, Princess of the Moons. Someone might misinterpret it as a challenge."

Toxic Mind

2014-07-08, 08:32 AM

Finally in Person

A shimmering portal of light was already open, and Kereth was halfway through it, when he heard her. This business with the moons was none of his, Artoran and this moon goddess, Akora, could figure out such things on their own. Kereth doubted that any of their actions would be able to harm the Soul Fields, and the world below would be sheltered by Mehket. But then she came, and so Kereth had to stay. Because one on one, Artoran was not unreasonable, not beyond compromise. But with her here, he was unpredictable, and to stand aside and give no support to this new goddess was tantamount to endorsing her fate. Kereth would not have that.

The portal snaps shut and he turns back to the group. "Your domain is the Sun, Kar'vode'an. By what right do you challenge her claim of her own domain?" Kereth stands comfortingly behind Akora, taciturnly lending her support, though he does little to acknowledge her beyond that. After all, the new goddess likely has little idea who he is, beyond his willingness to stand before these two without fear.

The stories were not wrong. Kar'vode'an was truly beautiful. The epitome of beauty. Yet Kereth stood unmoved. For even a lustrous as she was, a radiant being of pure Light on the surface. Yet within, the body beneath the light grew, aged, died, and was reborn constantly. A shifting creation, constantly in motion, constantly living and dying and continuing the endless cycle. That was beauty for Kereth, but he was unawed by its' sight. For long ago, he had seen beyond the exterior of another goddess, to see the true beauty and power that lay within her. That beauty that was absent in Kar'vode'an's heart to Kereth. At the core of her being, he saw darkness, and all of the exterior beauty in the world could not hold a chance against his love for Naer'Va.

"I am Kereth, called the Guide, The Lightbringer, and Death. What is your name, Goddess-who-claims-the-moons?"

Shmee

2014-07-08, 08:56 AM

Kar'Vode'an and everyone else

The goddess of Love smiles at Kereth. "None what so ever." she says with a point of finality. "I just moved into the neighborhood and merely decided that it would be a wonderful idea to meet the neighbors. Oh and I came to see my brother as well. My sincerest apologies for not asking your permission first." She does not seemed surprised that he has once again chosen to meddle in affairs that do not concern him. For despite his insistence of the opposite, it seemed to the goddess of Love that the god of Death had a queer obsession of following her.

"Now then, what is your heritage Moon Princess? I am the daughter of Artoran and of Yoo."

Dragonsage

2014-07-08, 09:30 AM

~Raising tensions~

Akora raises her brow as another goddess arrives on the scene to compound her problems. Was it her youth which brought along these complications...most vexing. "My light shines honest and true. How one chooses to interpret the truth is of their business." Her lips curled into a smiled as she give a slight nod in welcoming the sun goddess. "It was asked what claim I had and I simply replied with my answer."

The lunar goddess then notices the presence of yet another, and to her surprise he seemed to be on her side. A relief since she was beginning to believe that she would only be met with gods who would confront her today. The support he offered was more than welcomed, especially at that moment where she knew her confidence alone would not be enough to handle both of the opposition.

"Well met, kind Kereth." She turned and gave the lightbringer a proper bow from the waist in greeting him. "I am Akora, goddess of the moons and matron of truth." She then returns her attention to her previous speakers, and proudly proclaims. "I was born from Mirmulnir."

Shmee

2014-07-08, 09:41 AM

She shakes her head "Never heard of him." She answers truthfully "Who is he?" she asks.

Toxic Mind

2014-07-08, 09:45 AM

Bait

Kereth smiles magnanimously at the implied taunt. "Hardly. You do not need my permission to travel our world, any more than any other god or goddess. I see stories of your beauty were no exaggerated. Your husband is a lucky god indeed." Kereth turns back to the moon goddess near him. "It was you in the Forge then." Kereth recalls the presence of another being, but his sight was shrouded, and it had departed before he had a chance to herald it. "Then be welcome, daughter of my son. If it does not displease you, I would stand with you for now. I have dealt with many other gods here, and would gladly give you my guidance, should you need it." Kereth phrases the statement as a question. After all, the moon goddess could ask him to leave, if she wanted.

Eshkigal

2014-07-08, 10:47 AM

The Wolf Moon
When Akora touches the tendril, she accidentally ends up with a hand in a mouth.
"...Sorry."
The tendrils begin parting around her, though.
"Your claims are both truth. Here, then, is a realm for you. My unknown son spawned a race, maybe it's better they be left to you."
As Kar arrives, Mekhet raises a pseudopod eyebrow. Her coming to him was a first.
"God of secrets, Keeper of The Dead's Memories. Likes being an unknown quantity."

Shmee

2014-07-08, 12:44 PM

Kar'Vode'an and everyone else

"Spare me the false modesty and courtesies Murderer. I have seen your true nature first hand. I would rather that you be honest for once. I am your enemy just like you are mine. Do not believe that I have forgotten your malice towards me and my people, nor have I forgiven you."

She then turns to her brother

"You are surprised that I actually came to someone dear Brother? You can hardly blame me for being reluctant to step out when I have my personal stalker watching my every move. Regardless, I am here to extend to you an invitation to my new home, were we can talk about our personal matters. After all, when I arrived in Klein you were the only one who demonstrated even the most basic decorum of hospitality, so it is only fair that I repay the favor."

Toxic Mind

2014-07-08, 01:16 PM

Wind

"Words are wind, goddess. Wind you seem to enjoy toying with. You arrived as I was already here, yet you say I stalk you? Perhaps it is the other way around."

"Your wind cannot blow me away, no matter what claims you make. I will see this one treated fairly, no matter your baseless taunts. Surely if you are so angry at the actions of one mortal under my care you should avenge your people?" Kereth opens his robes, bearing his chest. "My heart is right here. Strike. You make us enemies when I do not. You are the only one creating conflict here, an action your brother rather loathes if his words are true." Kereth's face is deadly serious, and there is no humor in his voice.

Dragonsage

2014-07-08, 02:09 PM

~Yay grandpa!~

Upon the realization of that Kereth was her father's father, Akora's eyes brightened as she returned her gaze to meet Kereth's. "Your guidance would be most valued by me, ancestor. I would be honored to receive your aid." She gave her reply to her elder, with her sweeten soft tone before the exchange between Kereth and Kar seemed to have heated up.

The goddess stood by Kereth, curious to see what would happen next but couldn't help but to furrow her brows at the events unfolding. Not liking the notion of violence occurring among the gods present, She take a firm stance before her grandfather's chest in the event someone does try something. "I would prefer it if I did not have to make enemies so soon after my own birth..." Her tone of voice changed from the sweet sound to a more motherly firm confidence as looked between all members present.

Shmee

2014-07-08, 02:51 PM

Kar'Vode'an... and everyone...

"If my words are wind, then surely you have nothing to fear from me..." she replies smirking at the sight of Akora standing in front of Kereth "You may keep your heart. It is hardly sufficient for my revenge. The only heart that I require is that of my Beloved. " she says as she turns her gaze to Akora "Very well... if you don't want to make enemies, let us be friends then. You are cordially invited to Kar'Sol were you will taste my hospitality and we may get to know each other."

Having completed her purpose on the Moon, she turns to Mekhet once more "I shall be expecting you..." she says as she disappears once again in a storm of rose petals, departing for the sun.

Toxic Mind

2014-07-08, 04:03 PM

Gestures

Kereth closes his robes, a self-satisfied smile on his face for only a moment. He places his hand on Akora's shoulder. "Your gesture was heartfelt, but you do not need to fear. That one does not bear her talons openly. Still, you should accept her offer. Though take care, for that one may not be the god of venom, but her words are toxic. You need not fear for your moons if you wish to go, I will stay and see to their safety."

Kereth looks at Artoran, and Drinker. Not a fight he would relish, but he would undertake it none the less if he were forced.

Arcran

2014-07-08, 08:10 PM

An Inconvenient Truth

The Trial

The blood orb smashes against the reflection, shattering it. Behind it lies nothing. Not darkness, for even darkness has a shape, a feel, to it. This is oblivion, the absolute lack of anything. From the ground, the man within the fractured shards laughs.

So strong

So weak

Strength will never avail you

So arrogant, to think himself above all others

How long will they mourn when your body tumbles from our embrace?

How long before another greatest rises?

Weak!

Feeble!

If a man stands before an army, he will fall, no matter his skill, no matter his power, for he is just a man.

Who is the strongest?

Tell us.

Tell us and live.

The voices sound all around him, pressing in on him, even as the sweet release of oblivion looms ahead, promising freedom from the voices, freedom from the taunts.

The Shattered Kalux laughs from the floor, a sound Kalux has heard before when he laughed at his vanquished foes. But even now he can hear the madness in the laughter.

And it is only when Silver turns and tilts its head that Kalux realizes that some of the laughter is coming from his own mouth.

Was it not for Silver it is more than likely that Kalux would go mad. Instead, Kalux pulls himself towards the fox, using the calm consciousness of his Beast to keep him from going truly mad. He averts his eyes from the void, hoping to keep his mind at least somewhat in tact.

The laughter, while driving him mad, drives home a point. Deny it as he may, he was not the strongest Toraq. Smartest? Likely. Best at rallying the tribes? Of course. But the strongest?

"The Laughing Child!" Kalux shouts, every word a knife into his pride. "The Firstborn of Artoran! He is the strongest among the Toraq," he finishes, forcing the words out around the laughter.

Math is Hard

"And what if ten people give you five Zalals? What if they tell their friends about the wonderful things they got and now ten of their friends come with their Zalals? We just have to convence them that somthing that costs this" he says, holding up the silver coin, "is worth this," he says, holding up the Zalal. And I have plans for how to make many many people want to give us their Zalals for our..." he pauses, smiles and slams his hands together, revealing Shalee's face on the silver disk. "what were you called again?" he said with a smile.

"But why should we give him silver in the first place?" Shalee mutters, still confused.

"I am Shalee, leader of Tribe Lion of the great Toraqi race," she says simply, some jewelry jingling as she moves. "Why do we give them silver? Why not just make them give us gold for their lives? Lives are worthless."

Daddy is Angry

~something else Sailor moon related~

Akora turns away from the tendrils to face Artoran, her soft expression faded as the senior god approached her. "Yes, my moons!" She placed her hands back on her hips as she glared at the god. She could feel the deference in power, but still she stood her ground against him. "I feel them as a part of myself. I am Akora, goddess of the moons!" Her hair and tattoo runes began to shimmer with moon light before the Moon of Mon'Lupus reacted as well, by briefly glowing.

Kar'Vode'an, the Sun

From within the Solar Halls of Kar'Sol, the goddess of Love watches as her father seeks to make his own claims. However she senses a presence that she had never felt before. Perhaps it would be a good idea to welcome the neighbors after all... not to mention, she had unfinished business with Mekhet as well.

As the gods quarrel over the ownership of the moon, a storm of rose petals erupt signaling her arrival as Kar'Vode'an appears behind her husband. She places a calming hand on the blood god's shoulder as the Sun Queen faces the Moon Princess "And I am Kar'Vode'an, goddess of the Sun." she says while smiling. She was not wearing her mask, and so her face and in fact her entire being was still radiating pure light from her conquest of the Sun "You should be careful how you glow, Princess of the Moons. Someone might misinterpret it as a challenge."

Finally in Person

A shimmering portal of light was already open, and Kereth was halfway through it, when he heard her. This business with the moons was none of his, Artoran and this moon goddess, Akora, could figure out such things on their own. Kereth doubted that any of their actions would be able to harm the Soul Fields, and the world below would be sheltered by Mehket. But then she came, and so Kereth had to stay. Because one on one, Artoran was not unreasonable, not beyond compromise. But with her here, he was unpredictable, and to stand aside and give no support to this new goddess was tantamount to endorsing her fate. Kereth would not have that.

The portal snaps shut and he turns back to the group. "Your domain is the Sun, Kar'vode'an. By what right do you challenge her claim of her own domain?" Kereth stands comfortingly behind Akora, taciturnly lending her support, though he does little to acknowledge her beyond that. After all, the new goddess likely has little idea who he is, beyond his willingness to stand before these two without fear.

The stories were not wrong. Kar'vode'an was truly beautiful. The epitome of beauty. Yet Kereth stood unmoved. For even a lustrous as she was, a radiant being of pure Light on the surface. Yet within, the body beneath the light grew, aged, died, and was reborn constantly. A shifting creation, constantly in motion, constantly living and dying and continuing the endless cycle. That was beauty for Kereth, but he was unawed by its' sight. For long ago, he had seen beyond the exterior of another goddess, to see the true beauty and power that lay within her. That beauty that was absent in Kar'vode'an's heart to Kereth. At the core of her being, he saw darkness, and all of the exterior beauty in the world could not hold a chance against his love for Naer'Va.

"I am Kereth, called the Guide, The Lightbringer, and Death. What is your name, Goddess-who-claims-the-moons?"

"ENOUGH!" Artoran shouts, slamming Drinker into the surface of the Red Moon, small pieces flying across the Void.

"Kereth! You come to my home uninvited and unasked for and again make threats against my family!" Artoran shouts, livid. "Mekhet! You meddle in things that are not your affair! And Kar!" he says, his voice softening. "Please go home."

"Same with you, Mad God and God of Death," Artoran shouts, his eyes red as blood. "This is my place, not yours. The next person to make a threat against me or my family loses my tongue. Anybody other than the so-called "Moon Goddess" that is still here by the time I pull Drinker from the ground loses their legs. She claims the moons, let her show the worthy of her claim, not her family," Artoran says, slowly reaching out towards the handle of Drinker, giving the other gods at least five seconds until he pulls his axe from the ground.

"You though," he says, leering at Akora, "You must stay. The moons are yours? Earn them by your own deed, not the threats of your family."

DoctorGlock

2014-07-08, 08:22 PM

Math is Hard

"But why should we give him silver in the first place?" Shalee mutters, still confused.

"I am Shalee, leader of Tribe Lion of the great Toraqi race," she says simply, some jewelry jingling as she moves. "Why do we give them silver? Why not just make them give us gold for their lives? Lives are worthless."

A Subject of Interest

"Ah, because there is the secret Shalee. By giving him the silver, you take his gold, and he comes back again and again and again... and you can rob him over and over, and he never stops. And you can move on to the next one... while still robbing the first

But perhaps you would rather learn how to turn gold into more gold... and perhaps a man's house and worldy goods, and maybe even kill the man, while still not breaking a single rule, while still have men line up to give you their gold?"

Toxic Mind

2014-07-08, 08:25 PM

The Trial

The laughter stops instantly. All as one, the mirrors shatter inward, though none of the shards touch Kalux. Whatever he had seen, Kalux is still standing in the center of the room he once saw before the reflections accosted him. The woman construct watches him from the stairs, and though it seems impossible, Kalux is filled with the feeling that she watched him through the entire ordeal from the place she was standing.

"Pride, Kalux of the Fox. Pride will ever be your undoing if you allow it, for there is always one greater than yourself. You are greatest among the Toraq, who are greatest among the mortals. But the gods have servants who surpass mortals, The Child among them. And above them, the gods themselves. Need my words and you may yet survive this place. Go onward, for other challenges await you."

The construct walks up the stairs and disappears from Kalux's sight, leaving him and Silver alone in the room.

The Moon

Kereth bows curtly, holding his staff. "So be it." Kereth turns and a radiant portal opens up. Even as he steps through it, he whispers to Akora "I will be watching."

Arcran

2014-07-08, 08:35 PM

A Golden Coat

A Subject of Interest

"Ah, because there is the secret Shalee. By giving him the silver, you take his gold, and he comes back again and again and again... and you can rob him over and over, and he never stops. And you can move on to the next one... while still robbing the first

But perhaps you would rather learn how to turn gold into more gold... and perhaps a man's house and worldy goods, and maybe even kill the man, while still not breaking a single rule, while still have men line up to give you their gold?"

Shalee laughs, obviously more interested by this ploy.

"Gold and I may still kill?" she says, the rest of the tribe still interested. "Tell me how to accomplish that and perhaps our Tribe will name you among our gods."

Moving Up in the Tower

The Trial

The laughter stops instantly. All as one, the mirrors shatter inward, though none of the shards touch Kalux. Whatever he had seen, Kalux is still standing in the center of the room he once saw before the reflections accosted him. The woman construct watches him from the stairs, and though it seems impossible, Kalux is filled with the feeling that she watched him through the entire ordeal from the place she was standing.

"Pride, Kalux of the Fox. Pride will ever be your undoing if you allow it, for there is always one greater than yourself. You are greatest among the Toraq, who are greatest among the mortals. But the gods have servants who surpass mortals, The Child among them. And above them, the gods themselves. Need my words and you may yet survive this place. Go onward, for other challenges await you."

The construct walks up the stairs and disappears from Kalux's sight, leaving him and Silver alone in the room.

The Moon

Kereth bows curtly, holding his staff. "So be it." Kereth turns and a radiant portal opens up. Even as he steps through it, he whispers to Akora "I will be watching."

Kalux spits, as if the words he had said had rendered his mouth physically dirty.

"Come Silver," he mutters, a useless statement if there ever was one. Whether or not the fox came was entirely in the power of, well, the fox and verbal communication is entirely redundant between Beast and Toraq. No, Kalux just needed to say something to give himself some small piece of control.

And so the two advance up the stairs.

Toxic Mind

2014-07-08, 08:42 PM

The Second Room

As Kalux reaches the top of the stairs, he finds a room almost identical to the one he just left. in fact, as he and Silver step off the stairs, they slide up into themselves, flowing seamlessly into the floor, and cutting off the first floor with finality.

There was one major difference in this room, however. In the center stood a statue, carved of the same material as the tower itself, obviously. Where the construct had been all feminine, this state was all masculine, and had a strange familiarity to it. Kalux had the oddest feeling that he knew the subject of the statue, but he could not see the face of the statue, as it was turned from him.

The construct who led him here stand halfway up the next set of stairs. "You need only defeat the guardian of this room, and you may ascend. You may begin when ready'"

DoctorGlock

2014-07-08, 08:59 PM

A Golden Coat

Shalee laughs, obviously more interested by this ploy.

"Gold and I may still kill?" she says, the rest of the tribe still interested. "Tell me how to accomplish that and perhaps our Tribe will name you among our gods."

Grinning, Zahav reaches into the loot-pile and plucks out fine spun papyrus and a pouch of tobacco. He rolled the tobacco into a thick roll in the paper and then gut it in two with a gilded razor from the haul and offered on end to Shalee.

"Let us say you have a man, and he is poor, but still owns a house. There is no reason to rob him, he has no goods aside from his home and you cannot carry that. But he needs a Zalal to buy something he needs. So- bear with me here- you give him one. But! He must pay you back. He must pay you back an extra half Zalal. If he is late paying you back, he must pay an extra Shalee to you as well each month. Now it takes him a few months to pay you back and you have two Zalals! But what if he does not pay you back? Well, he signed his home as collateral when you let him borrow your Zalal. Now you have his home and can sell that. If his home is not enough you can sell him instead! If he refuses..." Zahav-Zalal flips the razor through the air. "Well, I think you know what you do then."

"So if he pays you back, you have more gold than you started with. If he does not, you have his home and himself which are worth more than you started with. Either way, you win. And because there will always be people that need gold... they will always need your Zalals. And always be paying you more back. But wait! Another secret. What if we could use this same house of borrowing and lending, and charge people their silver to keep their gold safe from..." Zahav trails off with a chuckle "roving Toraqui." Suddenly, they are paying to give you their gold! And lets say that this place also kept the weights and measures and created the Zalals that everybody uses? And could set the value of each coin... Let's call this..." he mulled the sylabbles over as he rolled his cigar through his mouth. "...a... bank."

Yes, that sounded right.

AP: 1- Introduce closed concept, Banking

Arcran

2014-07-08, 09:43 PM

A Battle

The Second Room

As Kalux reaches the top of the stairs, he finds a room almost identical to the one he just left. in fact, as he and Silver step off the stairs, they slide up into themselves, flowing seamlessly into the floor, and cutting off the first floor with finality.

There was one major difference in this room, however. In the center stood a statue, carved of the same material as the tower itself, obviously. Where the construct had been all feminine, this state was all masculine, and had a strange familiarity to it. Kalux had the oddest feeling that he knew the subject of the statue, but he could not see the face of the statue, as it was turned from him.

The construct who led him here stand halfway up the next set of stairs. "You need only defeat the guardian of this room, and you may ascend. You may begin when ready'"

Kalux grins slightly as he walks into the room. No laughter, no mirrors, no madness, just a foe that he was supposed to kill.

Without hardly a though Silver begins to circle around, going towards the opposite side of the construct from Kalux, slinking along the sides of the wall. Kalux, on the other hand, forms a dagger in the blink of an eye and, in a smooth motion, flings it towards the base of the guardian's neck. If he got lucky he'd kill it right now. If not, well, it wasn't a huge issue. He'd kill it all the same.

A Toraq Bank

Grinning, Zahav reaches into the loot-pile and plucks out fine spun papyrus and a pouch of tobacco. He rolled the tobacco into a thick roll in the paper and then gut it in two with a gilded razor from the haul and offered on end to Shalee.

"Let us say you have a man, and he is poor, but still owns a house. There is no reason to rob him, he has no goods aside from his home and you cannot carry that. But he needs a Zalal to buy something he needs. So- bear with me here- you give him one. But! He must pay you back. He must pay you back an extra half Zalal. If he is late paying you back, he must pay an extra Shalee to you as well each month. Now it takes him a few months to pay you back and you have two Zalals! But what if he does not pay you back? Well, he signed his home as collateral when you let him borrow your Zalal. Now you have his home and can sell that. If his home is not enough you can sell him instead! If he refuses..." Zahav-Zalal flips the razor through the air. "Well, I think you know what you do then."

"So if he pays you back, you have more gold than you started with. If he does not, you have his home and himself which are worth more than you started with. Either way, you win. And because there will always be people that need gold... they will always need your Zalals. And always be paying you more back. But wait! Another secret. What if we could use this same house of borrowing and lending, and charge people their silver to keep their gold safe from..." Zahav trails off with a chuckle "roving Toraqui." Suddenly, they are paying to give you their gold! And lets say that this place also kept the weights and measures and created the Zalals that everybody uses? And could set the value of each coin... Let's call this..." he mulled the sylabbles over as he rolled his cigar through his mouth. "...a... bank."

Yes, that sounded right.

AP: 1- Introduce closed concept, Banking

Shalee grins, looking at the gold. Let others borrow it with the expectation of more...

She only needed to look around the tribe and see the greedy glint in their eyes to know the result. They had no use for their gold now but, like that, they could always get more!

"That is an excellent idea," Shalee purrs, obviously pleased. "I accept! Help us build a bank, the grand Golden Bank of the Toraq!" she exclaims. "The Golden God is our own and shall sit beside Artoran!"

While the tribe does not cheer, their pleasure is quite plain by their wide, greedy grins.

"Come, let us take you to Verenzano. We shall aid you for the Golden Bank."

And the band sets out towards the city they are sworn to protect, gold and riches in tow.

Eshkigal

2014-07-08, 09:55 PM

Next plane over
"And this one moon is my land, given to Akora, the place you screwed my sister on was me, and that big old tree of ooze over there is my home! You're still welcome in two of them, even if you make me want to smack you sometimes!"

He looks irritated at Kereth, flinging a hastily made snowball at his head, just before he poofs.

"Respect family dammit!"

After, he just sighs. It was going to be a long millennium...Part slips to the sun, as part slips to the Fields. He needed to talk. But first, to take some advice.

And on the tree, mouths grow and open. And then they shake the realms with the foulest words known to mortal, god, or thing beyond.

Klein
As profanities shake from the heavens, coursing through the world below, expressing the grandest of frustration, Mekhet considers something and nods.

"You're right, it does feel good to let it out."

Soul Fields

As the worlds shudder and shake, even the Soul Field shudders, giving pause to the eternal war, breaking the peace of the wayfinders, as Mekhet forms in the Field, unphased.

"Naer'Va, are you around?"

Kar'Sol

Even the halls of Kar'Sol rock and shudder under his anger as he curses the worlds, as Mekhet forms within their halls, the only stable point in them.

"Hello, Kar, sorry I haven't made a housewarming gift, but I have been rather spent and put out lately. Besides, we saw how well the last one went..."

Toxic Mind

2014-07-08, 10:03 PM

The Second Trial

The knife, true to its maker, cuts the statue's head clean off. No blood flows forth, but after all, it is a crystalline statue, so that was to be expected. What was not to be expected was the statue's body reaching down, picking up the severed head, and placing it back on its shoulders. "Always looking to find some way to cheat your opponent, eh Toraq?"

The statue turns, and despite its make, the face is one that Kalux clearly recognizes. Falrak, the hero and champion of Aleru, who he slew in Galvastia. "Time to face up to your faults, Kalux. You cheated me of my rightful battle, just like Aleru cheated Artoran out of his. You are the Whore now. Face me, and face your own death. I will rectify what was stolen from me long ago."

Crystalline rods grow into the statue's hands as it drops into a ready position that Kalux remembers from the castle of Galvastia. "You cannot defeat me without your tricks, Kalux. Admit it. You are WEAK. You could not defeat Aleru's mightiest servant through arms, as a true Toraq would. You are unworthy."

Dragonsage

2014-07-09, 04:05 AM

~Luna~

Kar'Vode'an... and everyone...

"If my words are wind, then surely you have nothing to fear from me..." she replies smirking at the sight of Akora standing in front of Kereth "You may keep your heart. It is hardly sufficient for my revenge. The only heart that I require is that of my Beloved. " she says as she turns her gaze to Akora "Very well... if you don't want to make enemies, let us be friends then. You are cordially invited to Kar'Sol were you will taste my hospitality and we may get to know each other."

Having completed her purpose on the Moon, she turns to Mekhet once more "I shall be expecting you..." she says as she disappears once again in a storm of rose petals, departing for the sun.

Daddy is Angry

"ENOUGH!" Artoran shouts, slamming Drinker into the surface of the Red Moon, small pieces flying across the Void.

"Kereth! You come to my home uninvited and unasked for and again make threats against my family!" Artoran shouts, livid. "Mekhet! You meddle in things that are not your affair! And Kar!" he says, his voice softening. "Please go home."

"Same with you, Mad God and God of Death," Artoran shouts, his eyes red as blood. "This is my place, not yours. The next person to make a threat against me or my family loses my tongue. Anybody other than the so-called "Moon Goddess" that is still here by the time I pull Drinker from the ground loses their legs. She claims the moons, let her show the worthy of her claim, not her family," Artoran says, slowly reaching out towards the handle of Drinker, giving the other gods at least five seconds until he pulls his axe from the ground.

"You though," he says, leering at Akora, "You must stay. The moons are yours? Earn them by your own deed, not the threats of your family."

The Moon

Kereth bows curtly, holding his staff. "So be it." Kereth turns and a radiant portal opens up. Even as he steps through it, he whispers to Akora "I will be watching."

After Kar'Vode'an extends and invitation to visit her in Kar'Sol, Akora smiles to the sun goddess. "Thank you for your invitation, Milady. I am sure it would be a most pleasurable time." She replied to the goddess before Artoran erupted into shouting rage. She was taken back a bit when the angry god had slammed his weapon into the red moon, and found herself annoyed when some shards of the red moon floated off into the void.

Admittedly a small spike of nervousness did occur within the moon goddess as Artoran demanded that all others would leave her alone with the raging god, leaving her without any support. Although she did take some solace that she wouldn't be out numbered in the coming conformation. Kereth's whispering before he took his leave helped with her confidence, in knowing that there was some moral support from her ancestor.

When all others had departed, Akora gives her total attention to Artoran. "Very well. I shall prove myself capable of standing on my own." She then crossed her arms and poised herself into a confident demeanor as she meet the god's leer. "Shall we resolve this then?"

Shmee

2014-07-09, 01:17 PM

After, he just sighs. It was going to be a long millennium...Part slips to the sun, as part slips to the Fields. He needed to talk. But first, to take some advice.

And on the tree, mouths grow and open. And then they shake the realms with the foulest words known to mortal, god, or thing beyond.

Klein
As profanities shake from the heavens, coursing through the world below, expressing the grandest of frustration, Mekhet considers something and nods.

"You're right, it does feel good to let it out."

A Storm of Obscenities

Even as Mekhet begins unleashing his anger and frustration, the little Goblin still caught by the god's tendril begins to thrash around "YEAH! THAT'S RIGHT! SHOW THE INSIGNIFICANT GODLINGS THAT YOU MEAN BUSINESS! MWHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!" soon the Goblin joins the god in screaming out obscenities for all the world to hear "TELL THEM WHERE TO STICK IT! STICK IT! STICK IT! STICK IT IN THEIR MOUTHS! STICK IT! STICK IT IN THE MORNING, IN THE NIGHT! STICK IT! STICK IT! IN THEIR NOSE! IN THEIR EARS! FRAK 'EM ALL! MWAHAHAHAHAHAHA FRAK! *****! (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KB4Le8jKtM0) *****! (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KB4Le8jKtM0) *****! (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KB4Le8jKtM0) ****! (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KB4Le8jKtM0) ZITS! ****! (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KB4Le8jKtM0) ****! (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KB4Le8jKtM0) FLOGGING! ****! (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KB4Le8jKtM0) SAFE WORD! SCANT WHORE! ****! (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KB4Le8jKtM0) *****! (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KB4Le8jKtM0) MASTER! SLAVE! ***! (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KB4Le8jKtM0) ****! (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KB4Le8jKtM0) ****! (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KB4Le8jKtM0) Mommy? CHEWING GUM! ALERU! FOUR WAY! FRAK! MORE FLOGGING! PANTIES!" all the while the Goblin is busy head banging. Several Kleinites flee for their lives in terror at these horrible sounds.

Finally both god and Goblin finish their rant at about the same time. Skreechy is trying to catch his breath after going against a god in a contest of profanities. "You see? EVEN THE GODS LISTEN TO SKREECHY! MWAHAHAHAHAHAHA! If only the others would listen to me... WHY DON'T THEY LISTEN TO ME?"

Kar'Sol

Even the halls of Kar'Sol rock and shudder under his anger as he curses the worlds, as Mekhet forms within their halls, the only stable point in them.

"Hello, Kar, sorry I haven't made a housewarming gift, but I have been rather spent and put out lately. Besides, we saw how well the last one went..."

Kar'Vode'an & Mekhet, the Sun

The goddess of Love waits until the storm of obscenities passes. Her ears are still ringing as she gives a sigh and asks "Was that really necessary?" as she tries to get rid of that irritating ringing sound from her ears. "Think nothing about it. You did me a great service in Klein, for you aided me to reveal the Mechanicus' true nature, which was my purpose in staying in the world below in the first place. It was the Mechanicus who did everything in their power to ruin the feast that you had planned. Do not think that I did not notice how quickly they disassociated themselves from you when their incompetence brought them into a difficult situation... or the fact that they deliberately caused rain during the parade to dampen the mood... or that they instructed the citizens to stay behind closed doors... or that Kereth's dog was busy stalking the rooftops of the city during my procession, or their hypocrisy. Just as planned... put a little bit of pressure on someone and the masks will fall, revealing the true ugliness from within. "

"You hold weird friendships with people who fail to appreciate you brother. But this is neither the place nor the time to discuss that. How are you holding out to the loss of your love?"

Eshkigal

2014-07-09, 03:47 PM

Kar'Sol
As the cursing from beyond continues, a sound that makes sailors weep at a mastery of an art they can only hope to mimic now, Mekhet gives a strained sigh on Klein.
"That's what the noise is about, sister. But on Klein, I had offered you my lands first, you know. They let you in to ensure that no affront would be taken by my invitation to their lands. I wanted to show you fun, show you my city, my love Sid, my friends, my children...it went so wrong, Kar. So damn wrong. While waiting, my sons died, Mom's been dead for a while, Sid's dead, Heramaes is dead, Nika's spark is overcompensating and may burn out, and instead of the alliance I hoped for a war may start between Anval and Klein because I tried this and failed. And both sides made a game of it around Nika and me..."

Mekhet droops, looking at Kar.

"What's going to happen, Kar? Between you and Mechanicus...what will happen? Naer'Va has joined them, you know."

Shmee

2014-07-09, 04:48 PM

Kar'Vode'an & Mekhet, Kar'Sol

"I had no desire of the lands beyond that which the Elves already owned. Had I wished otherwise, the Elves would have knocked the walls down, razed the city to the ground, taken all its citizens as slave and rebuild a magnificent Elven city in its place. I had already declared as much, but sadly the gods of Klein found fit not to believe me. That is their failing... and if..."

Kar'Vode'an pauses for a moment as she hears a new obscenity the likes she had never heard before.

".... err... were was I? Ah yes. I am aware of our dear sister's defection. She has made her decision and must live with the consequences of her betrayal. If she stands in my way, then she shall share the fate of my enemies. Do not blame yourself. This conflict was long brewing. On one side you have the gods who wish to exert control over all the gods. On the other, you have the gods who reject their authority."

"You have spent time with the Mechanicus... and so I shall put the question to you... as a neutral party. Of what crimes do I and the Elves stand accused of that would warrant such malice?"

Toxic Mind

2014-07-09, 06:09 PM

Growth

When Kereth gained power in the past, it had always been a strangely large afair, great bursts of power and Light. But not this time. This time it was a subtle affair, noticed by few, only those who knew him well, and saw him often. Kereth's Lantern Light grew brighter, and his motions more fluid. His eyes saw more than they had before, seeing beyond the surface, beyond even the Paths, to find what was hidden. '

3AP: Take Domain: Light (Revelation)
4: Tower of Shattered Light
2: Infusion (Hunter Corps)
1: Cleric Magic - Light from Beyond

3AP: Take Domain: Exploration (Seafarers)
2: Ships
1: Sails
2: Society Pirate Code
2: Create Shadowed Isle

Kereth is now a Greater Diety

Visting

Kereth and his firstborn son walk through the aether, saying little. There was no need to talk, after all, both knew where they were going, and neither one had and desire to make small talk. A promise made, a promise kept. It had been one of Kereth's oldest unspoken mantras. When he gave his word, he kept it, for better or worse. Kar'vode'an was warned, was promised that if she would not heed reason, the consequences would be dire. She did not, and so the promise was kept. Kereth gave his word that he would speak to his son about the aftermath of that event, and so he would. They reached their destination quickly, the Tree of Infinite Planes. Keth looked to his father quizzically. "I sense you are troubled, Father, but why are we here? Could this conversation not happen in the Fields?" Kereth looks sidelong at his son. "No. You must see what I see, truly, or all the words in the world will change nothing." Keth nods, still confused, but says nothing more.

Kereth points below them, to one of the world-fruits on the Tree. Within it, a massive being lumbers around, creating great fountains of gold and gems. "You have surely seen the Tree, but here is something you may not know. That being is like I am. He is born of the Tree itself, and gifted with great power, power not dissimilar to mine." It was then that Keth noticed that the Pseudo-God was creating such wonders out of thin air. He looked on in awe at the power the Titan wielded. Kereth continued "Such power comes at a price, for us, and for him. It may seem at first that it does not, but I tell you now, that is the greatest lie of the universe." Kereth points now to another branch of the tree, where thousands of worlds withered and died. Keth is aghast. "How is this happening?" Kereth's face is shrouded in his hood, but his eyes are filled with sorrow "He does it. His magic is fueled by the death of all those worlds. Billions upon billions of worlds have grown only to be extinguished in an instant by one of these Titans, simply because they wished a new diamond crown, or chair to sit on, or song to hear."

Keth draws his scythe. "We must stop them, Father! This cannot continue!" Kereth holds out his arm, stopping his son. "That is not for you to decide, nor is it your province. Perhaps one day I shall deal with this madness myself. But today, you must understand something. WE are the Titans of our world. All the gods, and in some part, you as well. We wield powers beyond mortal ken, beyond their wildest imaginings. That power can create, or consume. We must always be mindful when we use our power that it is for the best of those under our care. When you killed the Elven Council, you did what he does." Kereth points down again to the Titan below. Keth opens his mouth to gainsay this statement but Kereth holds up a hand. "No. We protect, we do not consume. I wanted Kar'vode'an punished, but your actions accomplished nothing. She does not care for her people, they are toys to her, to be used and discarded as she sees fit. Now how many lives will be lost if this becomes war again? How many souls will I have to take because you felt angry." A tear runs down Kereth's face. "Never again. If ever you go so against my Purpose, I will extinguish you myself. Are we clear?"

Tears run down Keth's face as he realizes the enormity of his mistake. He bows, his head hung in shame. "Yes, Father. I will return to the mortal world, to continue my duty. I am sor-" Kereth cuts him off. "Let your actions speak your sorrow. Words have no use to me."

As Keth leaves, Kereth stays in the tree, looking down at the Titan below him, merely watching, a far off look in his eyes.

Eshkigal

2014-07-09, 06:37 PM

"Ha! Unchained is too disconnected for it to truly have defectors, it is an affiliation of mutual protection, that is where it ends. You guys talk more to Mechanicus as friends than one another. On why, probably just happens when a bunch of entities who all can warp reality grow older, think it goes to all our heads. Begin thinking we are infallible or all powerful and forget that others are just like us, which is part of why I take so much time to grow-chaos with that sort of ego behind it would be too dangerous. Though you think Kereth bothers telling me things like that? I touched souls because I thought I had to set up reincarnation and got beaten with my own be damned limbs. Admittedly, at the time I thought I had broken everything forever and he did yoo, so kinda warranted, but still, I am not exactly in his circle of confidants.

If I had to guess, though, from what I gleaned from being around the people, your cold reception was because Starlight was part of the invasion that the elves were distrusted, you settling down in a way that got every Kleiner worried they were about to get hit yet again instead of taking my offer of enjoying the beaches of Maruk or the lands of Verenzano while they settled feeding Mechanicus paranoia. Even I got worried, Kar, because frankly, while we're siblings...we do very little together. I barely know you. I may actually know mortals better than I know you. And whenever I try fixing that, something new happens and needs to be fixed, or you're doing your own thing with the xenophobic elves, or I am trapped in my body for years. I'm trying, but I need your assistance there."

Arcran

2014-07-09, 08:01 PM

A Dead Man

The Second Trial

The knife, true to its maker, cuts the statue's head clean off. No blood flows forth, but after all, it is a crystalline statue, so that was to be expected. What was not to be expected was the statue's body reaching down, picking up the severed head, and placing it back on its shoulders. "Always looking to find some way to cheat your opponent, eh Toraq?"

The statue turns, and despite its make, the face is one that Kalux clearly recognizes. Falrak, the hero and champion of Aleru, who he slew in Galvastia. "Time to face up to your faults, Kalux. You cheated me of my rightful battle, just like Aleru cheated Artoran out of his. You are the Whore now. Face me, and face your own death. I will rectify what was stolen from me long ago."

Crystalline rods grow into the statue's hands as it drops into a ready position that Kalux remembers from the castle of Galvastia. "You cannot defeat me without your tricks, Kalux. Admit it. You are WEAK. You could not defeat Aleru's mightiest servant through arms, as a true Toraq would. You are unworthy."

Kalux chuckles yet, for those that know him well, the chuckle clearly had a nervous tinge to it. The man was dead; Kalux had taken his head off himself! It was just another trick of the tower, like the clones of him. It had to be.

"Cheat you? You made a fair deal; it's not my fault you were too stupid to consider the terms," Kalux says, forcing a fox-like grin onto his face. "All I did was take away the toys Aleru gave you. If you were really so great that wouldn't have been an issue, would it?"

"Want to know something funny, Whore?" Kalux says, his voice taunting, "Even if you could have cut me it would have done nothing. You know why? My Tribe uses knives, not swords!"

And Kalux laughs, slowly shifting until the new Falrak is directly in between him and Silver.

Moon Me!

~Luna~

After Kar'Vode'an extends and invitation to visit her in Kar'Sol, Akora smiles to the sun goddess. "Thank you for your invitation, Milady. I am sure it would be a most pleasurable time." She replied to the goddess before Artoran erupted into shouting rage. She was taken back a bit when the angry god had slammed his weapon into the red moon, and found herself annoyed when some shards of the red moon floated off into the void.

Admittedly a small spike of nervousness did occur within the moon goddess as Artoran demanded that all others would leave her alone with the raging god, leaving her without any support. Although she did take some solace that she wouldn't be out numbered in the coming conformation. Kereth's whispering before he took his leave helped with her confidence, in knowing that there was some moral support from her ancestor.

When all others had departed, Akora gives her total attention to Artoran. "Very well. I shall prove myself capable of standing on my own." She then crossed her arms and poised herself into a confident demeanor as she meet the god's leer. "Shall we resolve this then?"

"Stake your claim then!" Artoran bellows, arms outstretched, Drinker held loosely in his right. "What claim do you have to the moons? What act have you done to deserve them? Who have you defeated? Why do you deserve the corpse of Atraxxii more than I?"

Shmee

2014-07-09, 08:05 PM

Kar'Vode'an and Mekhet, Kar'Sol

"Very well then. I shall be perfectly honest with you. I suppose I owe you that much." says the goddess of Love as she sits on her throne, looking at her brother.

"Ah yes. The two hundred Elves of House Starlight. I told Nika of Klein that they left of their own accord, without my permission and without the consent of the Elven Senate. If truly they were worried, then why was I asked by Kereth no less to come to Klein's defense? Lapse of judgment perhaps? Or pure incompetence? Did he consider me too weak to reign in some rogues? He might have saved many lives. Considering Kereth prides on having his servants everywhere, I find it most odd that he asked me to muster my people, and did not even consider informing me of the situation of the siege. Considering I forgave his lapse, it is quite hypocritical of him not to forgive my own lapse with House Starlight. And then after we marched an entire continent... what did you expect me to do upon reaching Klein? Just turn around and leave? Don't forget... someone did try to drown my army as we crossed the continents. It would not surprise me if the Mechanicus was also involved somehow."

"Indeed I admit it... my Elves are xenophobic... and so I decided to break their isolation and get them to meet the other races and establish relations. The result? One insult after the other, topped by pure murder. While we camped around Klein, did my Elves block any entrance to the city? Were any of the Kleinites harassed? If anything, the events in Klein justifies the Fair-Folk's xenophobic tendencies. For while it is true that two hundred rogue Elves raised arms against Klein, that was in battle. Kereth's dark deed was cold blooded murder done from the shadows. All in the guise of "keeping order" as "the light-bringer" without so much as realizing the hypocrisy of the deed... for doesn't the Mechanicus stand for rationality? I'd say such bloody murder goes against all forms of rationality and law. Yet I have seen the Mechanicus and how they deal "Justice" and "truth". Simply ignoring the truth because it is too inconvenient. "

"I also admit it. I did feed off the Mechanicus' paranoia. Do you remember when I was born? Were you not the one who warned me about Kereth? Yet I had to see it with my own eyes. Make my own judgment about the world and its gods. Had I just gone up to him and introduced myself, he would have put on his mask, claiming false friendship. So put a little bit of pressure on them... and watch as the masks begin to crumble, and the true ugliness is shown. And the truth that was revealed in Klein was astonishing!"

"So... at first, Keth claims that he murdered one thousand two hundred and twelve Elves in retaliation for a Wayfinder getting killed during a legal duel that she accepted in the arena. Then Kereth claims that one thousand two hundred and twelves Elves were murdered because I was being "unreasonable" when he meddled in the affairs of Love, even going as far as pinning the death of a love struck fool whose life I saved. It would seem that master and dog are unable to even decide what the cause of this unjustified murder is. It also seems to me that I am not the only one that he has wronged. But the difference between you and I dear Brother? I rejected Kereth's so called authority over the gods and that is why he fears me.. because of his inability to control me... whether it is through false friendship or fear."

"If he did not fear me, then why go through all this length to "punish" me? Or to meddle in a domain that clearly does not concern him? You saw how fast he was to defend the domains of those who may serve his purpose on the moon... going as far as taunting me to strike him then using his own newborn granddaughter as a flesh shield, but he shows absolutely no respect to the domains of other gods, always meddling in affairs that he has no rights to. If not Kereth... then his dog who went as far as to threaten a god. Am I expected to bow before Kereth's mongrels as well?"

The goddess reclines on her throne.

"Now then... you require my assistance as your Sister. I do believe that I have been most cooperative and reasonable with you during the whole fiasco in Klein, especially due to our kinship. But first, I want to know one thing. Put yourself in my position... with the innocent blood of your people screaming for revenge. Your calls for truth and justice ignored by the very gods who claim that they uphold it. You are being accused of crimes that you have not committed and are expected to bend the knee to your accuser. What would you do in my position?"

Arcran

2014-07-09, 08:29 PM

The Mother

Atleon screams, loudly.

Of course, the sound of the ocean far in the ocean and the chittering of her Beast nearly drown it out.

That doesn't change the fact that she was screaming.

Already Atleon had given birth to three children, all sons, and it seemed to be far from over. Beside her, her Beast gave birth as well, matching her in number if not in volume.

Three hours later, as the desert sun begins to set, Atleon is finally done. Eight children, eight beasts. All male, bonded into eight pairs. Their Blood Weapons, upon being bled, seemed to be the same as Atleon's. They were permanent, unchanging and solid.

They children grew rapidly, even for Toraq. Within a few hours they were walking. A week and they appeared to be almost six years old. Another week and they were helping her to build her great wall for a great city. By the time another week had passed they were mature. They were simple with the brain of something less than a child but their bodies were mature as they heaved and lifted bricks of blood in the desert sun, their Beasts laboring beside them.

Another week passed, and Atleon and her Beast were pregnant again. Two weeks passed until the children were born. This time they gave birth to nine, the task seeming somewhat easier.

ThePhantom

2014-07-09, 10:55 PM

"We can respect that, can't we?"

There is a chorus of Wops as the crabs give their assent, and the merfolk still try getting used to the idea that yes, fiery places could be settled. ClickClicktap nods to the Ut'Gal.

"We'll see ya on tha Mount, then. C'MON, YA LOT! LAST ONE THERE'S A STEAMED SHELL!"

The crabs begin pouring out of the river, charging with their mighty Wop! for the top of the mountain as the merfolk stare at the crazy little crabs, a mere 600,000 strong in their bumrush before the twenty merfolk chase after, begging for them to wait up. Meanwhile, the Ut'Gal just smile, and shake their heads. Crazy little bastards.

Mount Halcua-Crabs

When the crabs reach the mountain, they find the kobolds and the Ut'Gal out in the amphitheater that serves as one of the centers of this community, doing an exchange of minerals for some of the tools that the Ut'Gal crafted. There's also a figure gazing up into the sky, scarves waving around him.

Kar'ecna'diar

The beautiful city of the elves. What changes have happened here with a new god reigning over it? That is why Faines has come to this city. In the guise of a Winsoon elf, he walks the streets, heading for the polished site that serves as the palace of the elves.

Dragonsage

2014-07-09, 11:04 PM

~I get it!~

Moon Me!

"Stake your claim then!" Artoran bellows, arms outstretched, Drinker held loosely in his right. "What claim do you have to the moons? What act have you done to deserve them? Who have you defeated? Why do you deserve the corpse of Atraxxii more than I?"

"Defeated?" Akora repeated as she formed her agreement for her claim in her mind. "I have defeated no one at all, for I am still young and at present have no enemies to fall. If anything I have taken steps to do quiet the opposite by bringing together the abandoned under my care. As such I see the moons as no deference as any other abandoned race that I intend to welcome into my care.

Now I propose to you a question. Long has it been since any have had claim over moons, not since Atraxxii himself. And in all that time, no one has made a bid for dominion over the moons...until now..at this very moment. In all that time you could have taken them for yourself, possibly unchallenged even, but you didn't. Only now do you make your move for the moons while it just so happens that I, a goddess of the moons, was birthed into existence when these events started to unfold. Now for the dominion of the moons, you are no longer unchallenged. I find it much more than mere coincidence. I think its fate that I was meant to stand before you now for the right for these moons. What say you, Artoran?"

Arcran

2014-07-09, 11:17 PM

Newborn With a History Book

~I get it!~

"Defeated?" Akora repeated as she formed her agreement for her claim in her mind. "I have defeated no one at all, for I am still young and at present have no enemies to fall. If anything I have taken steps to do quiet the opposite by bringing together the abandoned under my care. As such I see the moons as no deference as any other abandoned race that I intend to welcome into my care.

Now I propose to you a question. Long has it been since any have had claim over moons, not since Atraxxii himself. And in all that time, no one has made a bid for dominion over the moons...until now..at this very moment. In all that time you could have taken them for yourself, possibly unchallenged even, but you didn't. Only now do you make your move for the moons while it just so happens that I, a goddess of the moons, was birthed into existence when these events started to unfold. Now for the dominion of the moons, you are no longer unchallenged. I find it much more than mere coincidence. I think its fate that I was meant to stand before you now for the right for these moons. What say you, Artoran?"

"If you had the time to learn the entire history of the gods you had time to earn the right to them," Artoran says, frowning. 'Just a newborn,' she claimed, yet spoke as if she had been alive all this time.

"And I have taken them. This one, in fact," Artoran says, once again slamming Drinker into the surface for good measure. "Why, then, would I take it now?" Artoran says, a smirk on his face.

"Since the dawn of time the Red Moon has been a plague to all the races below, my own included. And yet, now, untold millennia after it was formed, my people have taken the Curse of the Red Moon and made it a weapon, a shield, their own instrument of destruction. What kind of god would I be to allow that gift to fade away?"

"I claim the corpses of Atraxxii by the strength of my people. As they have made Atraxxii's curse their strength, so shall I make Atraxxii's corpse my own."

"But never let it be said that Artoran will not make small sacrifices," he adds, a lopsided grin on his face. "I care not for all the moons, simply Atraxxii's corpse. You may have that one all for your own. And, as another gesture of my generosity, I will make your moon the only one in the sky save for the Red Moon so that mortals may behold your splendor. There shall be one sparkling moon of good and one to herald the chaos of a god long dead. Mortals will revere your name even as they once cursed that of Atraxxii."

"Put aside whatever lies you have heard about me, Newborn," Artoran says simply, giving Akora an iron stare. "There is no need for bloodshed unless you have the greed and hubris to claim them all for your own. Should you make that claim, well," Artoran says, grinning widely, "I may have to contest it."

"It is your choice, Akora," Artoran says, giving the small honor of using the newborn's name. "Will you fight a batle that does not need to happen? Or will you accept the offer of one who was old before your sire was born?"

The First

The First lept forward, catching the other Red Beast in the air and slamming it to the ground easily. Had it been another Toraq perhaps it could have fought him, could have struggled.

But it wasn't.

In a few quick seconds (and a few quicker blows) the wild Red Beast was subdued and unconscious despite the great healing capabilities of a Red Beast. With a low, feral chuckle The First forms a chain of blood, shackling the wrists, head and ankles of the beast. It surely had the strength to shatter the chains but, should it try, it would strangle itself. A Red Beast, while feral, was not vicious.

When the sun's light began to break the surface of the plane, The First frowned, feeling the power of the Red Moon leave him. While he hardly required its force to maintain his form there was just something primal and wild about its force, something that made all of the Forsaken Tribe feel more alive.

But that was an issue for another day. After a quick struggle of wills the Toraq part of The First's consciousness took over. With hardly any effort he lifted the now-naked human, making his way back to the tribe. Upon arrival, he threw the man into the pens with the others that had been captured over the past few months. How many did they have now? At the start it had been simple to keep track. A few dozen, then fifty, then a hundred. Now their captives far exceeded that, due in part to patrolling around the great golden dome.

The Forsaken Tribe was taking slaves, just not of the typical kind. Not slaves to Skizzik, man, or ever Toraq. Slaves to the Red Moon and all that entailed.

Toxic Mind

2014-07-09, 11:31 PM

Trial 2

"You freely admit your deceit, and the planned cost. But we are not here to judge my worth as your opponent, Kalux of the Toraq. We are here to judge yours. You claim my death among your accomplishments, yet we never truly fought. You are like the Aleru of old, using trickery to subdue a stronger opponent." The statue turns and faces him, though its body stays in place as the head rotates to look behind it. An unsettling grin splits the crystalline face from ear to ear. "You are the Whore now Kalux. Artoran must be so displeased to see one of his own sons betray him so." The statue raises the rods in its hands. "Let us fight as we once would have. If you can defeat me without your tricks, you may pass. Prove your worth, son of the Toraq"

And the statue laughs.

[roll0]
If he was infused, which I don't remeber, add 2.

This RCR is only to determine how the fight starts, and who does what. Once the results are done from both, I will be PMing you.

This is no-concept RCR.

Eshkigal

2014-07-10, 01:39 AM

"Wait, I-what? Woahwoahwoah, I was just going to ask you to come visit me on the tree or in my Rings. That's simple, unlike this! I was kinda distracted when most of this happened, with Sid...Kar, if it were Artoran, would you be ready to..."

He goes quiet for a minute, even the voices outside stopping for a moment. After a bit, he sighs and the voices begin with even more fervor.

"Nevermind. You asked, I will answer. Between us? You had Nika there, upon the ground she had died in. Mechanicus or no, she is Justice, and she tries to serve it as best she can. Even against elder gods. She would have listened to both sides, there would have been a trial once impartial entities could be found. Maybe arbiters, I dunno. How do I know this? I stuck with her, explained the cause of Iskar, her own murderer, mind you, to her, how he causes and spreads fear to prevent the Apocalypse. She listened, and weighed it against her own experience and that of her people, and from there things managed to begin mending between Iskar and the Mechanicus who had intervened as much as possible. Ox also tested it, explaining your husband's people's to others. Sharing the point of view unheard, and they listened and understood that there is more than mortal justice. Her followers try and bring that justice to others, and believe she would have tried to give justice in a trial, given time to actually have one instead of one side fleeing. It would have taken time, but it would have happened. As for what I would do...I am a fool. I know this, I know me. I try to curb my pride in myself, for I know I could damn well doom creation if I let what I am go to my head. I try and remember that before I actually do something with intent."

Mekhet looks to the world, to Klein and Maruk, pulling up trees to build and play with carefully, and sighs.

"Kar, I think Kereth can't help it at this point, though it will get him in trouble. He is known as the Guide. He thinks he has to guide everyone, including gods, and that is his hubris. Especially as he does so poorly at times. You lost 1212 elves. I lost my time together with Sideshne. I...I will admit that I know too little of what has happened. I may not be as neutral in such matters, either, because he hurt me bad, robbed me of time with her. I admit I want to hurt him sometimes, feel like he's caused me many problems, but it would just set things back more than help. I would gather more from my people, from the other sides at the event before answering in a way that leads to war, I would haunt Keth and Kereth for this. I would make them hurt within for their sins. But never kneel unless you are truly certain you have harmed creation, for we are supposed to all be equals in power. I knelt because I thought I broke EVERYTHING, Kar, I was so scared I broke the worlds. I thought Kereth was just the first to figure out. I was wrong in what I knew, as was he, and if I had known that things would have gone very differently! So now I am his reminder that he doesn't always know best, the one who can call him on folly, the one who shall grab his guilt and make sure when he does it again he will never forget what he did, or the consequence. I will not let him have the luxury to forget what his pride wrought against me, or what it cost him. But please, do not call new gods dogs, for Our sakes, it shows them a disrespect for trying to find and do their very function, their duty. He popped up as Artoran was angry, she showed support of one who did a nice thing for her, not that weird. I threw a snowball at his head for grandstanding, less weird. I gave her my son's moon since she has better understanding of moons and their function, and I figure letting the person whose duty is linked to them have control is better than me. Completely sensible!

And another thing! You keep misinterpreting my offer as one of cowardice and shame. I just wished to show off, introduce the Myriad Shield to you, give them a people who long ago had learned how to face diversity rather than just begin to do so. A people made of three peoples! A people who would be open! I was going to take you to my city, with your army, and throw you a party for a month in all, returning to Klein for a time and then to other locations, as the toraq brought the races currently in Faines' care to meet the elves, start trade, become grander! It would have been...I wish I could get a smile. Show someone...anything my people have truly made, or I have, but no one looks past profits or their own things, and I just wish to share. Instead even now, there is little I can do to help your elves, they would scratch at me with their weapons if I went among them again, not listen to any idea of my peoples, spit upon anything from Galvastia. Even if it were other lands that were not Klein's..."

There is a minute where he fumes. He then looks to the land bridge.

"Now, uh...look, there was a long period I was not actually able to control what my power did, or even monitor it. I don't know what all I caused and did not cause. So that may be my fault, or I could be wrong, I really do not know. If I accidentally nearly killed your army, I am sorry, but I was still salvaging my own body. I really have no clue one way or another though."

Dragonsage

2014-07-10, 05:00 AM

~Deal or No Deal!~

Newborn With a History Book

"If you had the time to learn the entire history of the gods you had time to earn the right to them," Artoran says, frowning. 'Just a newborn,' she claimed, yet spoke as if she had been alive all this time.

"And I have taken them. This one, in fact," Artoran says, once again slamming Drinker into the surface for good measure. "Why, then, would I take it now?" Artoran says, a smirk on his face.

"Since the dawn of time the Red Moon has been a plague to all the races below, my own included. And yet, now, untold millennia after it was formed, my people have taken the Curse of the Red Moon and made it a weapon, a shield, their own instrument of destruction. What kind of god would I be to allow that gift to fade away?"

"I claim the corpses of Atraxxii by the strength of my people. As they have made Atraxxii's curse their strength, so shall I make Atraxxii's corpse my own."

"But never let it be said that Artoran will not make small sacrifices," he adds, a lopsided grin on his face. "I care not for all the moons, simply Atraxxii's corpse. You may have that one all for your own. And, as another gesture of my generosity, I will make your moon the only one in the sky save for the Red Moon so that mortals may behold your splendor. There shall be one sparkling moon of good and one to herald the chaos of a god long dead. Mortals will revere your name even as they once cursed that of Atraxxii."

"Put aside whatever lies you have heard about me, Newborn," Artoran says simply, giving Akora an iron stare. "There is no need for bloodshed unless you have the greed and hubris to claim them all for your own. Should you make that claim, well," Artoran says, grinning widely, "I may have to contest it."

"It is your choice, Akora," Artoran says, giving the small honor of using the newborn's name. "Will you fight a batle that does not need to happen? Or will you accept the offer of one who was old before your sire was born?"

Again with the slamming of his weapon into the red moon, at this point Akora wasn't sure if he was doing it now just to bother the moon goddess. True the red moon wasn't her's, but still the way it was being treated was still vexing. Regardless, she did her best to mask any physical tells of her annoyance. No need to offend Artoran any further by implying she didn't like what he was doing with his own property. Instead she listened carefully to the the elder god's claims and of his offer.

Akora briefly closes her eyes while she considers the deal proposed to her. "T'was not out of greed nor hubris did I boldly stood before you, but a sense of duty as the moon goddess to care for the moons. Just as any god has their duties to their own domains, it goes deeper then mere birthrights..." She then gives a sigh before reopening her eyes and meeting Artoran's gaze again. "But there is truth in your words. Atraxxii has committed terrible things in his time, I even feel it now from his corpses... and to challenge you, especially as I am now, would prove to be...unwise."

She then peered over the moons, which were the source of the conflict. "I still believe that the timing of my birth and of your claiming of those moon are not coincidence. Though I no longer think I was not meant to stand against you in this moment, but instead you are meant to clear away the old Atraxxiian remains and I am to bring a new era by starting anew with the moons. So yes, I accept your most generous offer Artoran."

Shmee

2014-07-10, 07:06 AM

"When I revealed Kereth's hand in the murder of my people, do you know what Nika's reaction was? To immediately accuse me of a plotting to discredit him. Naturally I had no idea that he was in fact the perpetrator. It just so happened that it fell perfectly with my plan, but it doesn't change the fact that the truth was ignored. So then... aren't you supposed to be innocent until proven guilty? Yet with all the evidence brought before them, their paranoia meant my guilt was already per-determined! And the true murderer was judged innocent and even honored for his actions! Behold the Hero of Klein and behold the hypocrisy of the entire Mechanicus! A trail would have been as farcical as the feast was, and pointless as well. Words are wind are they not? It is actions that count... and we have seen their acts."

"I never called another god a 'dog'. That title is only fit for Kereth's servant. The rest are his mongrels. In fact... it was the Dog that insulted me and called me a whelp when I warned him to back off from matters that do not concern him! There you have it! His arrogance is so great that even the Dogs can now insult gods with impunity! Careful that you do not talk back to him! Least he murders your people while they sleep!"

"But if you are to remind Kereth of his folly, then why is he ignoring you? And why is he repeating the same mistakes? If we are truly equals in power, then perhaps it is time that someone reminds Kereth exactly of that! Do not get me wrong... I have no reason to believe that Kereth will ever show remorse. He is too proud to admit that he is at fault, hence all his attempts to vilify me and accuse me of crimes that I have not committed. Am I accused of being arrogant? Petty? Cruel? Vengeful? Venomous? Evil? Why... yes... I am. Let there be no mistake about that. However I believe that we are both guilty of those traits! The difference between Kereth and I, is that I at least am honest with who I am!"

"Then it seems we have formed a common purpose. For I too seek to remind Kereth what his pride has brought, and of the guilt that he seeks to ignore! To teach him some humility by proving him wrong, that he does not know best, nor is he worthy to lord it over us all! But this is not a lesson that he will easily understand."

"The fact that you wished me to see your city has nothing to do with cowardliness or shame. It is a matter of principle! You do not rally the gods and their entire armies lightly! A lesson he and Klein will never forget! Had the feast gone better? Then perhaps I would have taken you up on your offer, but as you can understand business comes before pleasure. You want our people to get along? That is understandable... and acceptable. But alas, their position means that we have the hostile lands of Klein between our people. If you fear that the Elves will reject your approaches, then the solution is simple. Aeons ago when I was born, I offered an Elven House to all my family. You refused my gift, yet to this day, my offer still stands! Take a House then of your own... mold them as you see fit, and have them act as your agents within the Elven lands, and let that serve as our symbol of alliance and mutual trust between brother and sister... a bond much more powerful and binding than any Pantheon! After that... we can work ways around the issue of our nation's geographical positions."

Kar'Vode'an rubs her chin, then waves away Mekhet's apology.

"Now then... I do not believe that you were responsible for the collapse of the land bridge... at least when the Elves attempted to cross it. I was there in person when it collapsed, and I felt a divine power. It was an unknown power... definitely not yours. I believe that I would recognize my brother's divine touch as clearly as you would recognize mine. Therefore, you have nothing to apologize about that, and I shall not accept that you apologize for others. You really have to stop doing that, as it only gets you in trouble! You saw how fast Nika of Klein was to disassociate herself and the city from your actions. They used you for their purposes, and then threw you out in the cold in front of your own sister! You think it did not insult me to see how little your worth counts in their eyes? Yet for the purpose of the visit, I overlooked yet another slight."

Eshkigal

2014-07-10, 08:31 AM

Mekhet just pinches a formed nose bridge at this.
"Those traits are symptomatic of being gods, Kar. We are all like that. Now, Kar? I am burnt out on politics after that farce for a bit. You are treating this as business, I am treating this as getting to know you. I have your side, and will get theirs, and will try to get things figured out reasonably. But don't begin talking about dissociation, or the like. You asked to set foot in MY lands, not theirs. Your wording after you knew it was not my land but another's made the dissociation happen, and under your own rules me accepting that would have led to your own rites being broken. Nika had to step in to keep me from getting banished right there because of the deal I would have made, and she knew that too. I...look, it literally hurts me to do this due to my nature, it hurts to form order, but I promise when I have worked through a backlog of nastiness, I will get all of the sides to this as while I believe you, if I am to be neutral I must hear both sides for myself, and try and have some form of court of gods happen, of unaligned, Unchained, and Mechanicus, where none are above the other but allget as fair a shot at airing grievances. I just need a break after all that, time to think. As for dogs and gods, you made it sound like the moon was being called one. And for the land bridge...eh, still good odds. I accidentally made a god and a race during that time, and it was rather chaotic, no?

Now, elves...are you sure you would appreciate my version? I ask because I see things in flux as beautiful, and that is what would be their lot. I refused because I figured a house quite like that, a house of change mentally and possibly physically, may be seen as insult rather than simply how I see the world."

Shmee

2014-07-10, 10:36 AM

Kar'Vode'an & Mekhet, Kar'Sol

"Indeed those traits are as you say brother. You'd do well to remind Kereth of that."

"If you recall, I asked that the people of Klein show some gratitude to the immense effort that the Elves made to march to their defense. When none of the Mechanicus sought to deal with the problem at their doorstep, you opted to act as an intermediary, using this opportunity to advance your own objectives and influence within the city. I see nothing wrong with that, and hence why I went through you. Had they not wished to receive me, all you had to do was to inform me, and then I would have knocked the city's walls down for this insult before departing. If they were to banish the intermediary when none of them dared to deal with me, then the Mechanicus are greater fools than I expected. If anything you did them a great favor."

"You wish to get to know your sister better. Here I am then! Politics and Love are my bread and butter, although I can understand why are proving to be frustrating and maddening to you. You say you want Justice? Then I am sorry to be the one to break this to you. But if you expect to create a court were the gods can meet as equals, you better prepare yourself for the ultimate migraine! For if you think Elven politics will give you a headache, wait until you see what will happen when all the gods gather under a single roof! The backstabbing! The intrigue! The double dealing! The mud slinging! The incest! Do not be surprised if this court ends up as being the catalyst which will end with this world burning as a result."

"For you to be able to bring the gods under one roof will require either great diplomacy, or great power. You already tire of divine politics, and so shall have to resort to strength. For that to happen you shall need to abandon the world below like I did. You are my elder brother, and yet I have grown stronger than you. Even the Dog would dare to threaten you! Yet within you hide so much untapped power just waiting to be released. Should you wish to realize your dream, then you shall have to make the same sacrifice that I made."

"Now then, as for the Elves. Why do you think I gave a House to each of my family members if not for them to mold them as they see fit? Even as the goddess of Love, who am I to tell you that what you consider to be beautiful to be wrong? Does House Ooona not act like a collective from within the Ooze? Does House Ermark not relish the thrill of combat at all costs? Does House Larithian not swim beneath the blue sea? Does House Winsoon not play music that can move a god to tears? Does House Starlight not deal with the infernal forces at their disposal? Does House Drow not serve our traitorous sister? And does House Eldern not rule over all as the first born of the Elves?"

Kar'Vode'an shakes her head at Mekhet "Now why do you think the Elves consider themselves the most blessed out of all the races? Exactly because each god has made them beautiful in their own way. Pick your House... as you were meant to, all those aeons ago."

Eshkigal

2014-07-10, 12:40 PM

"Hey, stop calling Naer'Va traitor for finding her own love and following it, that is especially unfair from you. That implies the Unchained has allegiances, too. I'm not Unchained either, after all. Besides, I did not say tired forever of politics, just right now until I get my own problems in order. I am also petty, after all, I know it is petty to put my own problems first. I am also a god, I need to acknowledge that pettiness. I try diplomacy normally, though I feel I made Artoran irate when I said to him and Kereth that if war is what it comes to, use the jousting rules in my Rings to no destabilize half or all of Creation. I...I am tired of losing kin right now, and now what is left seems to be gearing to tear each other apart should the other begin causing trouble."

Mekhet breathes out amidst the curses outside, and looks to Anval. Which to choose, which to choose...that one looks interesting.

"I choose Lifebloom, and they shall be explorers upon Maruk's back, entertainers in Anval, reaching out to others both within and outside your lands. I will let experience and other life change their form for now."

Shmee

2014-07-10, 01:20 PM

"Ah... love... how adorable. Naer'Va went with those who butchered her people... our people. Perhaps she did not betray the Unchained? But she did betray the Elves. She made her choice... and I have to respect that... just as you have to respect the very real possibility that should my sister stand up against me, I will not hesitate to smite her with all my might."

Kar'Vode'an rises from her throne as she begins to walk to Mehket "But for the sake of your fragile state of mind, I shall give you this reassurance: If you believe that I shall be mustering the Elves for war you are greatly mistaken. I have crowned my son Emperor of the Elves in my stead. However, do not think that I have placed aside my vengeance either. I am a woman of great patience. If the Mechanicus were paranoid when I entered Klein, you shall see how they shall quake when they shall behold my true might."

She looks down as Mekhet picks House Lifebloom "Very well. May House Lifebloom serve you well in your endeavors."

Toxic Mind

2014-07-10, 01:44 PM

Riloaf and the City of Trade

Riloaf had no purpose now, the reason he had left his cave so long ago blowing away like sand in the desert. As he winged his way across the continent, he could feel Allareth's contentment below him. Ooze dragons wished to fly, and Allareth was the first of his kind to do so in truth, under his own power. From this high up, Riloaf could see entire lands spread out before him, cities and towns and farms little more than toy pieces below. Allareth, for his part, cast a green-tinged shadow on the land below as the sun reflected through his body. It was as Riloaf and Allareth enjoyed their new found freedom that they saw something odd. A glint, even from this high up, as if the sun reflected off of something incredibly shiny. It looked to be headed towards Verenzano. From this distance, neither could see whether the object represented a threat or a boon, but given that the smoke from burning Galvastia could be seen even from here, Riloaf decided to heed caution, and headed to Verenzano to warn the people of what approached.

The sight of an ooze dragon at the gates of any other city would have been a cause for panic and terror. But Verenzano lived with the ooze, was protected by it, and so the guards were worried, but not overly so. When Riloaf dismounted Allareth and strode towards them, their jaws dropped. It was one thing to see an ooze dragon fly, that was surprise enough, but quite another to see someone riding one. Allareth's wings revert back to their normal size, and he looks quizzically at Riloaf, then at the ooze river. "Go. Enjoy yourself. But don't break anything, or anyone." Like a huge puppy, Allareth excitedly bounds into the ooze river, jumping in and sending up a spray of toxic ooze. In an instant, Riloaf transmutes the acid into harmless sticky ooze and glares at Allareth, who at least has the decency to look sheepish before sinking into the river with a happy burble. Riloaf turns to the guards. "On my flight here, I saw something approaching your city. It was something large, and it glinted like metal even from high in the sky. You may wish to prepare your guards and your forces inside the city. I dared not examine it further, and perhaps it is nothing, but given the fate of so many others who were unprepared, I saw it as my duty to at least warn you."

Not sure if they would be human or Toraq, and honestly it doesn't matter, as Riloaf knows nothing about the caravan beyond "shiny"

Eshkigal

2014-07-10, 03:56 PM

"Ah, I get it now. You are a bit mistaken in how Naer'Va works. She sees life as strife, it comes and goes. Her own people number in the millions, your entire army would be eclipsed by the number of them that die each day. This is truth for her, that life and death are just what happens, and while she loves her children, she will not interfere on their behalf or begrudge gods who interfere. May even the odds if people begin cursing her followers with wanton abandon, but other than that she will watch them and let them figure out their own path, with no path being wrong. Same with others, though the pride of gods may get to her sometimes, and her love of Kereth does mean she plays favorites there. Free will's tricky like that."

Shmee

2014-07-10, 04:29 PM

Kar'Vode'an & Mekhet, Kar'Sol

"Oh? Is that so? Then let me ask you then a simple question dear Brother. What is the source of life?"

Eshkigal

2014-07-10, 04:34 PM

"Us. If we say the sun is not needed, then it is not, and it is simply how it works. I have found 457 living realms where that is true upon the tree, and growing. Her first people barely ever see the sun except when they choose to raid other lands. They would ignore any change wrought in the sun far more easily than your or my peoples."

Shmee

2014-07-10, 04:54 PM

Kar'Vode'an & Mekhet, Kar'Sol

The goddess smiles at her brother's response "Good answer. It is true that we get to redefine reality as we see fit. Therefore as you can understand, numbers mean nothing to us, especially when divine intervention is involved. Could they truly ignore any alterations to the sun? Well then... that sounds almost as if you are challenging me dear Brother... almost. Never underestimate just how far reaching a god's hand can truly be."

"As you can understand, there is not a single move that I do that is not calculated in advance. And believe me when I tell you, that selecting the Sun as my seat of power is no random act. You wanted to know what will happen between the Mechanicus and I? Well, at this moment the situation is as explosive as a barrel full of Elven fireworks. A tense lull has fallen over the lands, were gods are measuring one another and gathering their strengths. All that is needed is a single spark, and then we shall all face mutual assured destruction.... or M.A.D. for short, the thing you fear the most! How ironic!"

"Who shall provide that spark? I can't say for sure. What I can tell you is that I do not intend to be the one who does it... intentionally at least. As you said yourself, we are all prone to mistakes. Perhaps by that time, you will be able to realize your dream of bringing the gods into a single court... or perhaps you will fail, and then the world shall burn in apocalyptic fire!"

Eshkigal

2014-07-10, 05:16 PM

Arcran

2014-07-10, 08:08 PM

You Mooned Me!

~Deal or No Deal!~

Again with the slamming of his weapon into the red moon, at this point Akora wasn't sure if he was doing it now just to bother the moon goddess. True the red moon wasn't her's, but still the way it was being treated was still vexing. Regardless, she did her best to mask any physical tells of her annoyance. No need to offend Artoran any further by implying she didn't like what he was doing with his own property. Instead she listened carefully to the the elder god's claims and of his offer.

Akora briefly closes her eyes while she considers the deal proposed to her. "T'was not out of greed nor hubris did I boldly stood before you, but a sense of duty as the moon goddess to care for the moons. Just as any god has their duties to their own domains, it goes deeper then mere birthrights..." She then gives a sigh before reopening her eyes and meeting Artoran's gaze again. "But there is truth in your words. Atraxxii has committed terrible things in his time, I even feel it now from his corpses... and to challenge you, especially as I am now, would prove to be...unwise."

She then peered over the moons, which were the source of the conflict. "I still believe that the timing of my birth and of your claiming of those moon are not coincidence. Though I no longer think I was not meant to stand against you in this moment, but instead you are meant to clear away the old Atraxxiian remains and I am to bring a new era by starting anew with the moons. So yes, I accept your most generous offer Artoran."

Artoran laughs loudly, putting an arm around the younger goddess.

"Perfect!" he shouts, with perhaps a hint of disappointment in his voice? "I'm not nearly as terrible as they say, am I?" Artoran asks, his laugh quickly dying.

"It's amazing what can be done without half the Mechanicus meddling in affairs they have no stake in, isn't it?" Artoran says sarcastically, clearly annoyed by that simple fact. "Come, I believe my wife invite you to her home! Let us see how good of a homemaker I married!" Artoran says, laughing again as he guides the younger goddess towards the sun. He doesn't force her by any means, simply guides her.

Jackalope Mans The Wall

Riloaf and the City of Trade

Riloaf had no purpose now, the reason he had left his cave so long ago blowing away like sand in the desert. As he winged his way across the continent, he could feel Allareth's contentment below him. Ooze dragons wished to fly, and Allareth was the first of his kind to do so in truth, under his own power. From this high up, Riloaf could see entire lands spread out before him, cities and towns and farms little more than toy pieces below. Allareth, for his part, cast a green-tinged shadow on the land below as the sun reflected through his body. It was as Riloaf and Allareth enjoyed their new found freedom that they saw something odd. A glint, even from this high up, as if the sun reflected off of something incredibly shiny. It looked to be headed towards Verenzano. From this distance, neither could see whether the object represented a threat or a boon, but given that the smoke from burning Galvastia could be seen even from here, Riloaf decided to heed caution, and headed to Verenzano to warn the people of what approached.

The sight of an ooze dragon at the gates of any other city would have been a cause for panic and terror. But Verenzano lived with the ooze, was protected by it, and so the guards were worried, but not overly so. When Riloaf dismounted Allareth and strode towards them, their jaws dropped. It was one thing to see an ooze dragon fly, that was surprise enough, but quite another to see someone riding one. Allareth's wings revert back to their normal size, and he looks quizzically at Riloaf, then at the ooze river. "Go. Enjoy yourself. But don't break anything, or anyone." Like a huge puppy, Allareth excitedly bounds into the ooze river, jumping in and sending up a spray of toxic ooze. In an instant, Riloaf transmutes the acid into harmless sticky ooze and glares at Allareth, who at least has the decency to look sheepish before sinking into the river with a happy burble. Riloaf turns to the guards. "On my flight here, I saw something approaching your city. It was something large, and it glinted like metal even from high in the sky. You may wish to prepare your guards and your forces inside the city. I dared not examine it further, and perhaps it is nothing, but given the fate of so many others who were unprepared, I saw it as my duty to at least warn you."

Not sure if they would be human or Toraq, and honestly it doesn't matter, as Riloaf knows nothing about the caravan beyond "shiny"

As Riloaf comes in, gliding upon a great Ooze Dragon a great commotion goes upon across the wall. Ooze Dragons did not fly; that was a fact that every Toraq new and took comfort in. Rarely did they stray far from their ooze, making them an avoidable danger.

The Toraq were about to open fire, greatbows strung and aimed, when they saw the man upon the back of the dragon. Had Gabit himself not been on the wall that day there could have been disaster but, with the leader of Tribe Jackalope present, order was maintained, if only barely.

When Riloaf strode up to the gate, Gabit and a half dozen other Toraq met him, easily leaping from the top of the wall, their odd Beasts following them. Above a good quarter of Tribe Jackalope had weapons trained on the newcomer, most praying for him to attack, something they might not had wished had they known his true nature.

"The Toraq are always prepared, but Verenzano appreciates the warning," Gabit says simply. "We would welcome you to the grand city of Verenzano but, should you cause trouble, you may end up one of those," Gabit says, pointing towards the crosses down the path that were empty save for the spikes Kalux had placed in them long ago.

Gabit turns into the city, leaving the gates open just long enough for Riloaf to enter before they once again slam shut.

I'll let you write your god approaching the city but I'll handle Tribe Lion when they near the walls.

Cheaters Always Prosper

Trial 2

"You freely admit your deceit, and the planned cost. But we are not here to judge my worth as your opponent, Kalux of the Toraq. We are here to judge yours. You claim my death among your accomplishments, yet we never truly fought. You are like the Aleru of old, using trickery to subdue a stronger opponent." The statue turns and faces him, though its body stays in place as the head rotates to look behind it. An unsettling grin splits the crystalline face from ear to ear. "You are the Whore now Kalux. Artoran must be so displeased to see one of his own sons betray him so." The statue raises the rods in its hands. "Let us fight as we once would have. If you can defeat me without your tricks, you may pass. Prove your worth, son of the Toraq"

And the statue laughs.

[roll0]
If he was infused, which I don't remeber, add 2.

This RCR is only to determine how the fight starts, and who does what. Once the results are done from both, I will be PMing you.

This is no-concept RCR.

"If I remember correctly, you were quite fond of tricks as well. Especially the ones that involved turning tail and running," Kalux says simply, a wide grin on his face. "And how will you win? We both know that unless you kill me I'll just get back up. Will you break your sacred vow now that your little goddess is dead and my god carries her head like a trophy?"

Small throwing knives appear in each of Kalux's hand, one held between each of his fingers to give him a total of three in each hand, ready to be thrown at a moment's notice.

[roll0]

DoctorGlock

2014-07-10, 09:24 PM

Zahav-Zalal holds op the plate to the light and admires his handiwork. It was two inches across and four high and made of solid gold. Inscribed on it was a golden lion wearing a set of golden laurels between two pillars. He tossed it into a pile with others.

"Now, you have made it clear your thoughts on clothes, but half of this banking venture is built on trust, and I think I have a solution. Our clients need to see you as different from other Toraqui. On some level they need to associate you with 'not Toraq.' It's part of the whole trick. They will trust you enough to give you their gold. So we need a symbol. Thankfully, I got that covered. This is our icon. This is the symbol of the golden bank that sets you apart. Above. Other toraq may fight solely for bloodlust and glory... but we serve a higher cause as well... cold hard profits."

We aren't stopping in Verrenzano either. Just making a pit stop. See, I got plans. When I dream, I dream of profits. The kind of profits that will make this gold we have here like sand. Then infinitely more. I don't think we have numbers for the kind of cash I am seeing, but we are gonna have it. And it's all going to come to us...

But first we got groundwork to lay down. And I have a system. I have just the thing. But we are going to have to build the framework from here to the ends of the earth. And this is going to generate cash like you wouldn't believe. But it is going to be vulnerable. It is going to need protecting. And we are going to need to send the message that anybody ****ing with my system is going be handled with extreme prejudice. Heads on plates kind of prejudice. I admit, I am a dreamer. I am a management kind of man. Executive solutions. But I reckon you can see the big picture here, or at least the edges.

I want you to take the golden bank as far as it can go. To the end of the earth. Anybody double crosses us, steals from us, cheats us? You do what you do best and have all the fun in the world doing it. And do it loudly. Send a message. And once I get my network up, treat it the same as you would the bank. We're playing with fire too big to afford any screw ups. Welcome to the big leagues, nothing here but hookers, blow and brutality.

So with that in mind, I got another toy for you before we get to town and shack up with the natives. And by that I mean present for me, but so long as we are in the same boat..."

Zahav reached down and ran marble fingers through the dirt, scooping up a big double handful of dust and clay. He spat into in and began to work it between his hands until he had a thick rope.

"Don't look like much, do it? Actually, looks kinda like **** now that I think of it..." Zahav tossed the clay into the sand. it began to thrash and in moments had disappeared under the dunes. "Wait for it... wait for it," the god said, cocky grin plastered across his expensive face once more.

The ground began to tremble. Imperceptibly at first, then noticeably. Then violently. Within moments Zahav and Tribe Lion were standing in the epicenter of an earthquake as the god bellowed laughter to the heavens.

Behold! he shouted, casting his hands skyward as the earth behind him split. Bursting forth and howling like the loudest of thunders was a colossal worm-like behemoth, thrashing body reaching nearly one hundred feet into the air. Arcing above the god, it dove, slamming into the ground and tunneling like some sort of demonic train as the earth around them heaved.

"I ain't sending you across the world without a token of my favor. Extreme prejudice I said. No matter if if the debtor is peasant, merchant, king or god!"

"Oh yes, as an afterthought, if you aren't taking the slaves with you, I see wonderful mining opportunities for them..."

Act: Create Fabled Life (4 AP)-- Wurms. Titanic constructs of living earth, they are born small, only about fifty feet long and a dozen tons or so. They eat stone and earth and gain mass, until they split off more wurms. There is no known upper limit to their maximum size though. The leave perfectly formed tunnels in their wake and bleed molten rock. They can create localized earthquakes around themselves and can also exclude specific targets within the area. Most importantly, when they process their food, they excrete salvageable minerals. Ores, gems, precious stones, oil- the wealth of the earth. They are more or less mindless, but answer Zahav's mental commands as well as any appointed members of the Golden Bank.

Toxic Mind

2014-07-10, 09:48 PM

Verenzano

Riloaf spares only a glance towards the ooze river, to see a massive shape glide through it. Allareth was watching. The great ooze dragon had lost one bonded already due to his absence, and Riloaf could sense that the dragon was loathe to leave him, even in a supposed friendly. Still, if Riloaf could not defeat a few Toraq, he would not be alive today, and so without a second glance, Riloaf enters the city. He turns to the Toraq leader, Gabit. "I am Riloaf, called the wise by some who know me little. With your permission, I would join you on the walls when this new thing approaches. It is not often that a Wayfinder sees something new and unknown in this world, and I would not miss this. The city is yours, of course, and I will not interfere with your authority."

The Trial: Pt 2

The crystal grin cracks wider now, splitting the face almost in half like some macabre gash. "Your mistake is assuming that I am Falrak. I care nothing for Aleru, or any vow that Falrak might have made. Be on your guard Toraq, for I will kill you if you falter." The two rods elongate into crystal shards, theirs blades glinting wickedly in the fractured light. There is no hesitation, no worry. Kalux can feel the difference permeating his foe. The construct before him was what Falrak should have been, a lethal machine. "Dance, Toraq. If you survive, perhaps we will talk again." And suddenly, Kalux is in a fight for his life, well and truly. The Falrak statue begins flinging shards of crystal, razor sharp, at the Toraq. The first one, Kalux dodges. The second he parries. The third he knocks out of the air with a dagger of his own. Then he begins to retaliate in kind, flinging daggers of his own. In an instant, the room is filled with razor sharp blood and crystal. Kalux laughs. "Even if you could hit me, I will just heal your wounds." Which was when the shard hit him in the arm. The pain was immense. The shard impaled his upper arm through the muscle, a nominal wound to most Toraq, easily healed, but this was no ordinary crystal. Kalux could feel it spreading within his arm, inside his blood, inside his veins. The Toraq is no fool, and acts quickly. Sealing off the wound with his blood, he takes the arm off in one quick motion. Already the healing process begins, but as he watches with stunned horror, the arm he just amputated is consumed by the crystal, and becomes another just another prismatic ornament.

"Clever. If you had been any slower, that would have consumed your body." The Falrak laughs. "Now do you see, Kalux? You cannot defea-" A sickening cracking is heard as Silver's jaws crunch down on the side of the statue. Angrily, the Falrak backhands the small fox, sending it flying against the wall. Kalux can feel Silvers life, but no consciousness. The fox was down, for now. But it was then that Kalux noticed something odd. The statue was not healing the wound. The crystal did not regrow, and a clear fluid leaked from the spot where the crystal chunk was taken by Silver. Whatever the construct's healing ability had once been, it clearly did not function now. Hope glimmered for Kalux. His beast had shown him the way.

Arcran

2014-07-10, 11:03 PM

The Golden Bank Always Gets its Due

Zahav-Zalal holds op the plate to the light and admires his handiwork. It was two inches across and four high and made of solid gold. Inscribed on it was a golden lion wearing a set of golden laurels between two pillars. He tossed it into a pile with others.

"Now, you have made it clear your thoughts on clothes, but half of this banking venture is built on trust, and I think I have a solution. Our clients need to see you as different from other Toraqui. On some level they need to associate you with 'not Toraq.' It's part of the whole trick. They will trust you enough to give you their gold. So we need a symbol. Thankfully, I got that covered. This is our icon. This is the symbol of the golden bank that sets you apart. Above. Other toraq may fight solely for bloodlust and glory... but we serve a higher cause as well... cold hard profits."

We aren't stopping in Verrenzano either. Just making a pit stop. See, I got plans. When I dream, I dream of profits. The kind of profits that will make this gold we have here like sand. Then infinitely more. I don't think we have numbers for the kind of cash I am seeing, but we are gonna have it. And it's all going to come to us...

But first we got groundwork to lay down. And I have a system. I have just the thing. But we are going to have to build the framework from here to the ends of the earth. And this is going to generate cash like you wouldn't believe. But it is going to be vulnerable. It is going to need protecting. And we are going to need to send the message that anybody ****ing with my system is going be handled with extreme prejudice. Heads on plates kind of prejudice. I admit, I am a dreamer. I am a management kind of man. Executive solutions. But I reckon you can see the big picture here, or at least the edges.

I want you to take the golden bank as far as it can go. To the end of the earth. Anybody double crosses us, steals from us, cheats us? You do what you do best and have all the fun in the world doing it. And do it loudly. Send a message. And once I get my network up, treat it the same as you would the bank. We're playing with fire too big to afford any screw ups. Welcome to the big leagues, nothing here but hookers, blow and brutality.

So with that in mind, I got another toy for you before we get to town and shack up with the natives. And by that I mean present for me, but so long as we are in the same boat..."

Zahav reached down and ran marble fingers through the dirt, scooping up a big double handful of dust and clay. He spat into in and began to work it between his hands until he had a thick rope.

"Don't look like much, do it? Actually, looks kinda like **** now that I think of it..." Zahav tossed the clay into the sand. it began to thrash and in moments had disappeared under the dunes. "Wait for it... wait for it," the god said, cocky grin plastered across his expensive face once more.

The ground began to tremble. Imperceptibly at first, then noticeably. Then violently. Within moments Zahav and Tribe Lion were standing in the epicenter of an earthquake as the god bellowed laughter to the heavens.

Behold! he shouted, casting his hands skyward as the earth behind him split. Bursting forth and howling like the loudest of thunders was a colossal worm-like behemoth, thrashing body reaching nearly one hundred feet into the air. Arcing above the god, it dove, slamming into the ground and tunneling like some sort of demonic train as the earth around them heaved.

"I ain't sending you across the world without a token of my favor. Extreme prejudice I said. No matter if if the debtor is peasant, merchant, king or god!"

"Oh yes, as an afterthought, if you aren't taking the slaves with you, I see wonderful mining opportunities for them..."

Act: Create Fabled Life (4 AP)-- Wurms. Titanic constructs of living earth, they are born small, only about fifty feet long and a dozen tons or so. They eat stone and earth and gain mass, until they split off more wurms. There is no known upper limit to their maximum size though. The leave perfectly formed tunnels in their wake and bleed molten rock. They can create localized earthquakes around themselves and can also exclude specific targets within the area. Most importantly, when they process their food, they excrete salvageable minerals. Ores, gems, precious stones, oil- the wealth of the earth. They are more or less mindless, but answer Zahav's mental commands as well as any appointed members of the Golden Bank.

Shalee starts back from the great beast, somewhat startled. And then Shalee laughs, a great, booming laugh that should not come from a woman of her small stature.

"You promise us gold, war and now great beasts of the ground?" Shalee says, her eyes positively gleaming with greed. "Take our slaves! We can take a thousand more that don't pay us back!" she cries, laughing all the while. Other Toraq gave no care to gold but Tribe Lion, they craved it. Needed it. It was the opportunity of many lifetimes for Tribe Lion, except for one small catch.

"There may be a small issue," Shalee says, clearly regretting each word as she says it. "What should happen when the Toraqi people march to war? We would be bound to aid them in whatever way possible. Will you allow us to fulfill our sacred duty, however small, or would we be required to stay neutral?"

The apprehension in Shalee's voice is clear, making it clear that she is more than a little stressed about being forced to choose between her gods.

The Flying Man

Verenzano

Riloaf spares only a glance towards the ooze river, to see a massive shape glide through it. Allareth was watching. The great ooze dragon had lost one bonded already due to his absence, and Riloaf could sense that the dragon was loathe to leave him, even in a supposed friendly. Still, if Riloaf could not defeat a few Toraq, he would not be alive today, and so without a second glance, Riloaf enters the city. He turns to the Toraq leader, Gabit. "I am Riloaf, called the wise by some who know me little. With your permission, I would join you on the walls when this new thing approaches. It is not often that a Wayfinder sees something new and unknown in this world, and I would not miss this. The city is yours, of course, and I will not interfere with your authority."

Gabit looks as if he would say no, then shrugs.

"I see no reason why not, assuming you aren't going to play us false," Gabit says, calmly giving the Wayfinder a slap on the back as he walks up onto the wall, the laugh perhaps not quite as jovial as it should have been. If Riloaf was to look on his back he'd see a small piece of blood, close to the size of a playing card, mixed into his robe. It seems Gabit isn't taking any chances, despite any feigned friendship.

The Battle Royale, Round 2

The Trial: Pt 2

The crystal grin cracks wider now, splitting the face almost in half like some macabre gash. "Your mistake is assuming that I am Falrak. I care nothing for Aleru, or any vow that Falrak might have made. Be on your guard Toraq, for I will kill you if you falter." The two rods elongate into crystal shards, theirs blades glinting wickedly in the fractured light. There is no hesitation, no worry. Kalux can feel the difference permeating his foe. The construct before him was what Falrak should have been, a lethal machine. "Dance, Toraq. If you survive, perhaps we will talk again." And suddenly, Kalux is in a fight for his life, well and truly. The Falrak statue begins flinging shards of crystal, razor sharp, at the Toraq. The first one, Kalux dodges. The second he parries. The third he knocks out of the air with a dagger of his own. Then he begins to retaliate in kind, flinging daggers of his own. In an instant, the room is filled with razor sharp blood and crystal. Kalux laughs. "Even if you could hit me, I will just heal your wounds." Which was when the shard hit him in the arm. The pain was immense. The shard impaled his upper arm through the muscle, a nominal wound to most Toraq, easily healed, but this was no ordinary crystal. Kalux could feel it spreading within his arm, inside his blood, inside his veins. The Toraq is no fool, and acts quickly. Sealing off the wound with his blood, he takes the arm off in one quick motion. Already the healing process begins, but as he watches with stunned horror, the arm he just amputated is consumed by the crystal, and becomes another just another prismatic ornament.

"Clever. If you had been any slower, that would have consumed your body." The Falrak laughs. "Now do you see, Kalux? You cannot defea-" A sickening cracking is heard as Silver's jaws crunch down on the side of the statue. Angrily, the Falrak backhands the small fox, sending it flying against the wall. Kalux can feel Silvers life, but no consciousness. The fox was down, for now. But it was then that Kalux noticed something odd. The statue was not healing the wound. The crystal did not regrow, and a clear fluid leaked from the spot where the crystal chunk was taken by Silver. Whatever the construct's healing ability had once been, it clearly did not function now. Hope glimmered for Kalux. His beast had shown him the way.

Fortunately for Kalux, he had fought almost his entire life without the assistance of the Pureblood, elsewise it might have been a crutch for him. Instead The Fox fights like a younger man, The Fox that had fought a Wayfinder all those years ago. His Battle Sense was trained on every blow, making it possible for Kalux to dodge aside. For those that he could not avoid, a thin plate of blood, shifting across his body, provided more than enough armor to keep the crystals from piercing his flesh.

And so Kalux darts back and forth, daggers filling the air between Kalux and Golem-Falrak.

"You're not Falrak?" The Fox says between daggers, the disappointment palpable in his voice. "Then why bother pretending? Did you think Falrak the Merchant, Great Seducer of Woman would scare me? A man too craven to stand and fight?" Kalux cries, flinging daggers that the construct easily dodges, the daggers splashing against the far side of the chamber, simply waiting to be called back to Kalux once more.

Throughout the entire battle, despite his cockiness, Kalux always makes sure to keep himself out of a direct path from Silver. While Silver was Pureblooded as well, Kalux couldn't afford the distraction of cutting off a part of his Beast should it come to that. Cold-blooded as Kalux is, no Toraq can simply let their Beast die.

Toxic Mind

2014-07-10, 11:24 PM

The Walls of Verenzano

Gabit looks as if he would say no, then shrugs.

"I see no reason why not, assuming you aren't going to play us false," Gabit says, calmly giving the Wayfinder a slap on the back as he walks up onto the wall, the laugh perhaps not quite as jovial as it should have been. If Riloaf was to look on his back he'd see a small piece of blood, close to the size of a playing card, mixed into his robe. It seems Gabit isn't taking any chances, despite any feigned friendship.

Riloaf follows the other Toraq to the top of the walls, and when the other slaps him on the back, he returns the favor, his laughter jovial. "I had heard you were unreasonable, but that was from the servants of the once-Aleru, so I should have known them to be lies." He opens his mouth to say more, then stops. He looks down below, at the ooze river, as ripples flow across it. An.... earthquake? he wonders to himself.

The Tower of Shattered Light

The Battle Royale, Round 2
Fortunately for Kalux, he had fought almost his entire life without the assistance of the Pureblood, elsewise it might have been a crutch for him. Instead The Fox fights like a younger man, The Fox that had fought a Wayfinder all those years ago. His Battle Sense was trained on every blow, making it possible for Kalux to dodge aside. For those that he could not avoid, a thin plate of blood, shifting across his body, provided more than enough armor to keep the crystals from piercing his flesh.

And so Kalux darts back and forth, daggers filling the air between Kalux and Golem-Falrak.

"You're not Falrak?" The Fox says between daggers, the disappointment palpable in his voice. "Then why bother pretending? Did you think Falrak the Merchant, Great Seducer of Woman would scare me? A man too craven to stand and fight?" Kalux cries, flinging daggers that the construct easily dodges, the daggers splashing against the far side of the chamber, simply waiting to be called back to Falrak once more.

Throughout the entire battle, despite his cockiness, Falrak always makes sure to keep himself out of a direct path from Silver. While Silver was Pureblooded as well, Falrak couldn't afford the distraction of cutting off a part of his Beast should it come to that. Cold-blooded as Kalux is, no Toraq can simply let their Beast die.

"I am not Falrak because it frightens you. The Toraq are without fear, are they not?" The tone is mocking, as if he knows it is a lie. "I am Falrak because Falrak is your greatest triumph, and your greatest failure. I am Falrak because you once defeated a champion of the Whore with trickery, when your race demands you face him in combat. Do not claim that fight as true combat, for if you have no chance of death, there is no fight. Now, Kalux, now your death is real. I am here, so that if you emerge alive, none will doubt that you truly are worthy of the title you so boldly claimed." The Golem-Falrak charges across the room, clearing the distance in scant seconds. Two blood daggers thunk into his crystal skin, but one bounces off hardened crystal. The Golem is learning, and fast. But Kalux has little time to think about that, for the GOlem strikes at him in close combat with his blades, and the lethal weapons sing through the air with sickening speed. Kalux is a master at ranged combat, unparalleled in his art, but in close combat, he is quickly losing ground, even his pureblooded weapon creation barely keeping up as they are time and again torn apart by the razor sharp crystal, or consumed by its' potent magic, leaving them crystalline relics of the weapons they once were.

Eshkigal

2014-07-11, 12:29 AM

Verenzano
As Riloaf enters, and Allareth finds the ooze crabs ("Ey, yer a big'un! C'mon, we'll show ya 'round!"), he is passed by a column of dust that begins building up to show the Handmaiden. Gabit looks unsettled by her as words raise up from the dust.
"Milord would have me scout the tremors out. I shall report to you, Chieftain.
As Gabit scowls, the Handmaiden falls back into swirling dust, spinning out and away...

Path to the City of Merchants
As Zahav-Zalal and Shalee admire the new beast, Zahav can feel the presence of a creature infused with the power of a god nearby. Dust rises nearby, forming into the Handmaiden, looking to the Wurm and to the toraq. More words form upon her dust shell as she bows.
"Greetings. I am the Handmaiden of Death, new godling. Verenzano is under the protection of Mekhet, and so I would ask your intentions upon his behalf as he attends to business with his siblings."

========================

Mt. Halcua
The crabs begin spreading out, towards kobolds (who scurry behind the Ut'Gal, who laugh lightly) and towards the scarved one. Before the man of scarves, they begin to study him. The merfolk arrive several minutes after, panting as they were not used to heat or trying to keep up with a River of crabs. One steps towards Faines.
"Are ya tha one watchin' over our younger brothers?"

Meanwhile, the crabs by the kobolds and Ut'Gal begin looking over the minerals and stonework.

"'S good work, but this spot's weak..."
"Oi, kinsmen! What can we do ta help ya lot out?"
"This is strange ore, it's pretty!"

More and more crabs come pouring in, asking questions and talking to the people by the drove.

Dragonsage

2014-07-11, 02:18 AM

~Mooned by a goddesss~

You Mooned Me!

Artoran laughs loudly, putting an arm around the younger goddess.

"Perfect!" he shouts, with perhaps a hint of disappointment in his voice? "I'm not nearly as terrible as they say, am I?" Artoran asks, his laugh quickly dying.

"It's amazing what can be done without half the Mechanicus meddling in affairs they have no stake in, isn't it?" Artoran says sarcastically, clearly annoyed by that simple fact. "Come, I believe my wife invite you to her home! Let us see how good of a homemaker I married!" Artoran says, laughing again as he guides the younger goddess towards the sun. He doesn't force her by any means, simply guides her.

Akora was taken by surprise when Artoran put his arm around her, making her jump slightly and caused her runes to flash briefly. It was apparent that she was still on high tension from whole deal, while the god had already shifted into merriment of sorts after the deal had been agreed upon. She didn't resist having the arm around her, since it didn't cause her any discomfort aside from startling her. She picked up on the hint of disappointment in his speech and thought on that for a moment. Was he really itching for a battle with the much younger goddess?

She ignored the comment about the Mechanicus, since to her knowledge her grandfather had only intended to come to her aid, and thought it best not to get Artoran riled up again. "Yes, I have been looking forward for the visit. I am most gracious for the invitation." She spoke honestly, as she did wish to start things off on good terms with the sun goddess. She showed no resistance as she was guided towards the sun.

DoctorGlock

2014-07-11, 08:32 AM

Path to the City of Merchants
As Zahav-Zalal and Shalee admire the new beast, Zahav can feel the presence of a creature infused with the power of a god nearby. Dust rises nearby, forming into the Handmaiden, looking to the Wurm and to the toraq. More words form upon her dust shell as she bows.
"Greetings. I am the Handmaiden of Death, new godling. Verenzano is under the protection of Mekhet, and so I would ask your intentions upon his behalf as he attends to business with his siblings."

Fractured Loyalties

Dammit! He hadn't thought of that. If the Bank was seen as partisan it was over! Wait... he could come up with something... cash and carry? Lend/lease? War bonds and stocks? ****.

Thankfully, a distraction appeared at the right moment. The dust swirled up and became the handmaiden, words scrawling across her dusty form.

"Intentions eh? Should have said business. My business is business, see? Money money money! I seek wealth, lots of it! You could go so far as to say all of it. So I need a place to drop my shiny ass down and make it richer than your wildest dreams. Not mine though, they can get pretty wild. We are talking oceans of coke cut with diamond dust kind of wild. But I digress. Intentions? Mine, produce, bank, sell, advertise, BROADCAST!" Zahav puts an arm around the handmaiden's shoulders and with the other makes a large sweeping motion. "We are talking towers that scrape the heavens. Millions of people. Gold flowing everywhere. I'm a dreamer, see?"

Shmee

2014-07-11, 12:32 PM

"Then do me a favor and keep it to this one little, insignificant world!"

Mekhet looks irate now.

"Do you bother to look past it? Do you look around? Look at the Tree! I craft millions of suns. I have made billions of worlds. I'm not afraid for one world, I'm afraid for you, dammit! I'm afraid for Naer'Va! For Artoran! For Kereth! I am afraid of losing what's left! I get you speak of warning, and thank you for agreeing to not start a war intentionally, but that is what weighs on me. A world without two or more of you four. A world without family."

After the outburst, the gears pause, sighing again, and shake out a bit.

"I'm sorry. Still too tense. It's been a long, bad time. Thank you though."

"I will not make any promises that I know that I may not be able to keep. If war breaks out, then its just a matter of time before things escalate. Perhaps you have crafted billions of worlds... and yet the one that seems to matter the most, is this one. Your concern for my well being touches me. Truly it does... but you should not fear for me. For the declaration I made to the Dog before my departure for Klein will ring true."

She gets up and whispers into the closest thing that Mekhet has for an ear.

"Love. Will. Conquer. Death. It would seem that the fools of the Mechanicus failed to truly understand the significance of my words."

As she sits back down

"Understandable I suppose. They believe that they understand my methods, just as they believe that they wield authority over all. That will prove to be their undoing."

As she speaks, Artoran arrives with Akora "It would seem we have more guests." she says as she studies the two gods "No wounds, no blood and no sign of battle for that matter. I assume you have resolved your matters without resorting to violence?"

HalfTangible

2014-07-11, 01:30 PM

Kar'ecna'diar

The beautiful city of the elves. What changes have happened here with a new god reigning over it? That is why Faines has come to this city. In the guise of a Winsoon elf, he walks the streets, heading for the polished site that serves as the palace of the elves.

Perhaps the most evident change was just how many women on the streets were pregnant. The place was evidently about to experience a baby boom, with one in three of the females he saw possessing a swollen belly. That much was to be expected - a fertility god wasn't exactly known for lacking in newborn children.

However, a second (and perhaps more disturbing) change was the sheer number of slaves. While the elves had the practice before, it was never quite to this extent. Faines wasn't sure he'd seen a single free person who wasn't giving an order to a slave. The slaves were easy to pick out - aside from the Toraq, who never wore clothes, and instances where protective clothes were required (such as a blacksmith or a soldier) the slaves in this place were all clad in what amounted to glorified underwear that was blatantly more about being pleasing to the eye than any genuine attempt at modesty.

As Faine approached the palace, he himself was approached. A drow in one of the outfits (this one in a deep cyan). Her belly was not swollen, though it didn't take more than a cursory glance to see that she was well-endowed and well-suited to bearing children.... come to think of it, most of the women here looked like they would easily give birth. Their god's work, perhaps?

"Welcome, welcome..." She whispered breathlessly, wrapping her arms around Faine and giving his neck a gentle kiss. "Please, call me Naia. I am here to guide you and attend to any of your... needs for as long as you stay. What brings you to the palace of our Master?"

8-1=7
Blessing: The elven races now find it easier to bear children, and are more fertile. As a consequence, death during childbirth falls to near zero and their rate of twins/triplets skyrockets.

Dragonsage

2014-07-11, 05:57 PM

~into the sun~

"I will not make any promises that I know that I may not be able to keep. If war breaks out, then its just a matter of time before things escalate. Perhaps you have crafted billions of worlds... and yet the one that seems to matter the most, is this one. Your concern for my well being touches me. Truly it does... but you should not fear for me. For the declaration I made to the Dog before my departure for Klein will ring true."

She gets up and whispers into the closest thing that Mekhet has for an ear.

"Love. Will. Conquer. Death. It would seem that the fools of the Mechanicus failed to truly understand the significance of my words."

As she sits back down

"Understandable I suppose. They believe that they understand my methods, just as they believe that they wield authority over all. That will prove to be their undoing."

As she speaks, Artoran arrives with Akora "It would seem we have more guests." she says as she studies the two gods "No wounds, no blood and no sign of battle for that matter. I assume you have resolved your matters without resorting to violence?"

"Of course. I meant what I said about not making enemies today." Akora greeted the sun goddess with a smile as she arrived. "I must thank for the invitation. Perhaps I should return the kindness once I get settled in on the moon." She added before turning towards Mekhet and greeted him as well with a much more soften expression, having known what the chaos god had been through.

"I owe you my graditude as well, Mekhet, for entrusting me with Mon'Lupus. Please let me know if there's anything I could do, to repay your kindness."

ThePhantom

2014-07-11, 07:45 PM

Mt. Halcua
The crabs begin spreading out, towards kobolds (who scurry behind the Ut'Gal, who laugh lightly) and towards the scarved one. Before the man of scarves, they begin to study him. The merfolk arrive several minutes after, panting as they were not used to heat or trying to keep up with a River of crabs. One steps towards Faines.
"Are ya tha one watchin' over our younger brothers?"

Meanwhile, the crabs by the kobolds and Ut'Gal begin looking over the minerals and stonework.

"'S good work, but this spot's weak..."
"Oi, kinsmen! What can we do ta help ya lot out?"
"This is strange ore, it's pretty!"

More and more crabs come pouring in, asking questions and talking to the people by the drove.

Mount Halcua

Faines looks down from the sky to the crabs around him, while his scarves continue to watch the sky. Around him, the Ut'Gal and Kobolds listen to the crab visitors, while a few Ut'Gal go over to investigate the merfolk.

Indeed, I am the one who watches over them. How do you do?

Perhaps the most evident change was just how many women on the streets were pregnant. The place was evidently about to experience a baby boom, with one in three of the females he saw possessing a swollen belly. That much was to be expected - a fertility god wasn't exactly known for lacking in newborn children.

However, a second (and perhaps more disturbing) change was the sheer number of slaves. While the elves had the practice before, it was never quite to this extent. Faines wasn't sure he'd seen a single free person who wasn't giving an order to a slave. The slaves were easy to pick out - aside from the Toraq, who never wore clothes, and instances where protective clothes were required (such as a blacksmith or a soldier) the slaves in this place were all clad in what amounted to glorified underwear that was blatantly more about being pleasing to the eye than any genuine attempt at modesty.

As Faine approached the palace, he himself was approached. A drow in one of the outfits (this one in a deep cyan). Her belly was not swollen, though it didn't take more than a cursory glance to see that she was well-endowed and well-suited to bearing children.... come to think of it, most of the women here looked like they would easily give birth. Their god's work, perhaps?

"Welcome, welcome..." She whispered breathlessly, wrapping her arms around Faine and giving his neck a gentle kiss. "Please, call me Naia. I am here to guide you and attend to any of your... needs for as long as you stay. What brings you to the palace of our Master?"

8-1=7
Blessing: The elven races now find it easier to bear children, and are more fertile. As a consequence, death during childbirth falls to near zero and their rate of twins/triplets skyrockets.

Well, the disguise got him through the city just fine, and it wouldn't do to be showing a false face while visiting family. Faines reverts to his true appearance, his scarves gently pushing Naia off of him. That's for her sake, being that close to Faines for too long will result in a mortal bursting into flames.

"I wished to visit my nephew, your new ruler. Please, direct me to his throne room."

HalfTangible

2014-07-11, 08:42 PM

Well, the disguise got him through the city just fine, and it wouldn't do to be showing a false face while visiting family. Faines reverts to his true appearance, his scarves gently pushing Naia off of him. That's for her sake, being that close to Faines for too long will result in a mortal bursting into flames.

"I wished to visit my nephew, your new ruler. Please, direct me to his throne room."

Naia immediately backed off, covering her mouth in shock. "O-of course, my lord! This is... uh..." She seemed to be looking for something to say, but said nothing and turned to lead him into the palace. The servants and slaves backed away as they came through, as if afraid of the new god.

The two reached the throne room, where Sein was licking the belly of one of his slaves. He looked up as the woman in his lap writhed in pleasure, and cocked an eyebrow. "Naia, Rei'Sa, leave us." The woman in his lap displayed clear disappointment, but quickly sat up and began moving when she noticed the other god. The drow and the high elf left the room quickly.

Sein was nude, but he still managed to bear a regal air as he laid back on his throne and looked at the other god. "I am Sein, master of slaves, charmer of maidens, god of authority and fertility. What brings you to my home?"

7+4=11

Arcran

2014-07-12, 10:45 AM

The Fox and The Golem

The Tower of Shattered Light

"I am not Falrak because it frightens you. The Toraq are without fear, are they not?" The tone is mocking, as if he knows it is a lie. "I am Falrak because Falrak is your greatest triumph, and your greatest failure. I am Falrak because you once defeated a champion of the Whore with trickery, when your race demands you face him in combat. Do not claim that fight as true combat, for if you have no chance of death, there is no fight. Now, Kalux, now your death is real. I am here, so that if you emerge alive, none will doubt that you truly are worthy of the title you so boldly claimed." The Golem-Falrak charges across the room, clearing the distance in scant seconds. Two blood daggers thunk into his crystal skin, but one bounces off hardened crystal. The Golem is learning, and fast. But Kalux has little time to think about that, for the GOlem strikes at him in close combat with his blades, and the lethal weapons sing through the air with sickening speed. Kalux is a master at ranged combat, unparalleled in his art, but in close combat, he is quickly losing ground, even his pureblooded weapon creation barely keeping up as they are time and again torn apart by the razor sharp crystal, or consumed by its' potent magic, leaving them crystalline relics of the weapons they once were.

Kalux continues to bend and twist, keeping his body just inches ahead of the blades. It was a rare thing that could cut through a Blood Weapon, all things be said and that fact did manage to scare Kalux more than a little.

Still, if Kalux had not been able to dodge blades he would have died years ago. While far from easy, The Fox manages to keep barely ahead, knowing that unless he pulls something he'll get hit soon and die.

And so, Kalux pulls something. In a flash a giant ball of blood, at least ten feet in diameter, is between the golem and himself. With another thought the knives across the room are recalled to Kalux, hopefully pinning the crystalline construct to the ball or even killing it.

We Still Have Claws

Fractured Loyalties

Dammit! He hadn't thought of that. If the Bank was seen as partisan it was over! Wait... he could come up with something... cash and carry? Lend/lease? War bonds and stocks? ****.

Thankfully, a distraction appeared at the right moment. The dust swirled up and became the handmaiden, words scrawling across her dusty form.

"Intentions eh? Should have said business. My business is business, see? Money money money! I seek wealth, lots of it! You could go so far as to say all of it. So I need a place to drop my shiny ass down and make it richer than your wildest dreams. Not mine though, they can get pretty wild. We are talking oceans of coke cut with diamond dust kind of wild. But I digress. Intentions? Mine, produce, bank, sell, advertise, BROADCAST!" Zahav puts an arm around the handmaiden's shoulders and with the other makes a large sweeping motion. "We are talking towers that scrape the heavens. Millions of people. Gold flowing everywhere. I'm a dreamer, see?"

Shalee instantly shies away, Gold's hair standing on end, clearly unnerved by the dust woman.

"She is wrong," the Toraqi woman mutters, looking at the Handmaiden. "She should not be here."

Here Comes the Sun...

"I will not make any promises that I know that I may not be able to keep. If war breaks out, then its just a matter of time before things escalate. Perhaps you have crafted billions of worlds... and yet the one that seems to matter the most, is this one. Your concern for my well being touches me. Truly it does... but you should not fear for me. For the declaration I made to the Dog before my departure for Klein will ring true."

She gets up and whispers into the closest thing that Mekhet has for an ear.

"Love. Will. Conquer. Death. It would seem that the fools of the Mechanicus failed to truly understand the significance of my words."

As she sits back down

"Understandable I suppose. They believe that they understand my methods, just as they believe that they wield authority over all. That will prove to be their undoing."

As she speaks, Artoran arrives with Akora "It would seem we have more guests." she says as she studies the two gods "No wounds, no blood and no sign of battle for that matter. I assume you have resolved your matters without resorting to violence?"

"Unfortunately, Artoran says, looking at the far-too-clean Drinker. "It's not like it matters though. I just wanted to make sure Akora here," he says, patting her on the back, once again using her name instead of 'newborn', "made it here unharmed. I, on the other hand, have things to do. Nice place though, love what you've done with it," Artoran says dismissively, looking around. As he leaves to return to his moons he mouths "Unchained" to Kar, giving a pointed look to Akora as he does so.

Dragonsage

2014-07-12, 12:40 PM

~Vrykin~

It's only been a relatively short time since Akora's arrival with the Vrykin and already there is has been improvement in the settlements. For one, the Vrykin have embraced the idea of having a life mate which also made it much easier for smaller groups to merge into larger groups via marriage. Their community had grown much closer and this pleased the moon goddess.

Akora had taken up the habit of walking among the Vrykin after night had fallen, because she preferred to she the progress of her work for herself and she just simply enjoyed be about with the people. Following her was the young Vrykin girl, Loren, had grown quite attached to the moon goddess since they first met and pretty much been at the goddess' side ever since.

Of course, Akora didn't mind the young girl's companionship, if anything she had begun to think herself has the girl's mother. The evidence of such thinking was plain to see, since Loren has been well fed, properly cleaned, and clothed by the goddess. Nothing extravagant, mind you, since Akora didn't wish to spoil the child on her powers. These actions hadn't gone unnoticed by the other Vrykin ether, as some had started to take in the children of fallen comrades into their own families as well.

Upon finishing her lap around the settlement, Akora and Loren approach the largest building in the settlement. The building was originally intended to be for the chieftains who once ruled once the Vrykin people, but ever since the founding of Akora's Waifs the Vrykin have done away with old warchief leaderships and have elected to follow the under a matriarchy. For now that meant Akora, and for that reasoning the chieftain's building was her's.

Before entering Akora briefly paused and looked up into the night sky, right into the moon of Mon'Lupus.

"Is something wrong, Mother Akora?" Loren had taken notice of her adopted mother's behavior and pulled her and to get the attention of the moon goddess. Akora was also very touch the fact that Loren had recently taken up to calling her mother, it never bothered her before that she called her by her name but now it felt like she was making a connection with the child.

"Oh, what..sorry, Loren...my mind was..elsewhere..."

"What does that mean?" Loren shot Akora a puzzled look.

"Well with me, I mean it in a literal sense I suppose." That didn't help Loren at all with understanding what was going on and Akora could see it in her still confused face. "You'll understand once you're older child." She gave the girl the generic parental response, not because she was too lazy to explain it but she wanted Loren to figure it out for herself.

"Oh...Okay then.." The little girl was disappointed, but it did have effect Akora desired, as the girl started to ponder the meaning. The two then finally enter the building before resting on throne which was originally meant for a chieftain. Loren sat on the goddess' lap. "So what was on your mind then?"

"My task. I have brought the Vrykin together under my care, but there is much more that needs to be done. Other Races that need to be cared for and perhaps the task of finding a more suitable home for all our people once I've gathered enough races..." She paused to reflect on the tasks still ahead of her before looking down at the Vrykin girl resting on her lap. "But I am making progress. Even know I am looking for a race that I believe to be your kin..."

The Lunar goddess had indeed sent a copy of herself to track down another race that had gone on forgotten because of the absence of their creator. A race that she believed would make a good addition to her band of adopted Vrykin, since they did share a creator. The furies, the lunar goddess had gathered some information on them and admired their matriarchal ways and believes that with some work they could make for a good pairing with the Vyrkin.

AP:12-1=11

Create concept 1 AP: Adoption
In the harsh world, many families are torn apart and too many children are left orphaned whilst able bodied adults are capable of taking in the child and give them a better chance to survive. Now Adults can take in orphan or children from abusive families into their own families to care for.

Arcran

2014-07-12, 05:15 PM

[B]M-O-O-N, That Spells BOOM!/B]

As Artoran leaves Kar-Sol, he can't help but smile. He quickly takes a two handed grip on Drinker as he nears the first moon. With a quick blow he brings the axe down, his face lighting up with glee as the moon is shattered in two. Two more quick swings follow that, smashing and slashing the moon apart, piece by piece, until they are hundreds of small pieces rather than a single great one.

And so, Artoran goes forth, moon to moon, smashing each and every one into smaller, more manageable pieces. He spares only the Red Moon, preserving it for the gift it grants his worshipers.

Soon enough where there were once many moons there were only two; Akora's and The Red.

With some quick blows of his axe Artoran moves the great lunar chunks, forming what resembles a ring around the mortal plane with the pieces far thicker on one end of the Red Moon than the other. He makes some twist and turn, making them faintly resemble a chain. A few more float about the Red Moon, giving it the impression of having great spikes. Should one past the mortal plane look upon the newly formed belt of asteroids, it would almost resemble a flail with the Red Moon as the head.

With a flick of his fingers a throne of blades appears upon the Red Moon and, tired from his work, Artoran slumps into it.

That is, until he sees what appears to be a humanoid figure floating among the asteroids...

1 PAP, 7 AP
Create Plane: Battlerock (https://ancientsofthevoid.obsidianportal.com/wikis/battlerock) (Using 1 PAP)
4 AP remaining.

Also, the figure is Cal'rox so feel free to hop in!

Eldamar

2014-07-12, 09:42 PM

Spire of Quark

The white tail coiled around the small child sways above the empty sky, for a brief moment, before retracting the Toraqi back to safety atop the iron pillar and uncurling from his waist. “You’re offer is acceptable. My siblings have told the Magisters of your arrival by now. One will likely present themselves to you once you’ve reached the courtyard below. Relay to them what you’ve told me, and they’ll see to it you have what you need.” The blue-eyed drake lowers his lengthy neck below the edge of his perch, extending his head another thirty feet below his body to spout a burst of scarlet flame.

Not a moment later, the child hears the loud flapping of dragon wings as Ziilthuras rises from the yard below and snatches the child unceremoniously from where he stood to ferry him to the base of the Spire. The dragon remained silent, hardly noticing the Toraq while his tail thumped against the grass to summon an attendant from the Spire, a purple robed apprentice in her early twenties.

“Come in, come in! The Dragonlords are preoccupied on this joyous occasion, don’t waste any more of their time!” She squeaks, nearly jogging with her head caste away from Ziilthuras to grab Pickles by the hand and pull him along inside.

The Seeding of Knowledge

Wayshrine

The night air was cool, the stars were shining bright, and the only light for miles was the small forge set up beside the Wayshrine in the middle of nowhere. Clink… Clink… Clink… The sharp echo of metal beating metal echoed across the plain, sweeping over hills and valleys made of tall grasses. A Wayfinder smith was busy forging tools and compass components for his kin who stop for rest and meditation while on their hundred year pilgrimages.

Stepping from the beyond the curtain of night and into the soft red circle of firelight, was Mirmulnir cloaked and hooded. In his extended obsidian gauntlet was a rugged chunk of mithril ore, sparkling from the light of the forge. Staring into his hood, no longer empty, were two silver-grey eyes. Clink… Clink… Clink…

“Know who I am, for we are kin. Progenitor request I share my knowledge with his chosen. This mithril will be sufficient for five of my far-seeing orbs. Let me instruct you on their design, but demand the secrets of my device remain a secret bound to you, and to one apprentice, and so on henceforth.”

Arcane Forges of the Citadel

In the bowels of the Citadel, beneath the Dragon Spire, the Magisters and their apprentices toiled long and in secret with the arcane. Circular room lined with metal shelves catalogued with every metal and alloy known to goblindom, and a myriad selection of crystals and stone as well. One of the Nine Magisters, a burly goblin gentlemen of abnormal size and strength for his like sat upon his chair gazing over his notes through the thick, hot air. A sample of this new metallic ore, two feet in diameter was found sticking out of the floor of some cave.

It looked like silver, but held none of the other properties associated with it. Near impervious to their tools, even enchanted steel, it took acidic ooze to eat away the stone for them to carry it back to the capital. It boggled his mind that they have never seen it before until now, when all of a sudden another deposit was reported in their oldest and deepest of mines.

Vulcral’s task was to investigate its properties and devise how best it could be harnessed for Quark. Being the son of the city’s wealthiest smith, he was intimate with metallurgy and forging techniques before being sent off to apprentice at the Citadel. The red skinned goblin’s callused fingers sprinkle a generous pinch of lotus snuff into the small brazier, inhaling deeply before drifting off into a lucid dream…

Where inspiration struck.

Wayfinders and Quark have Palantiri
+1PAP and +4AP from Rollovers.
12AP/1PAP Ending

Eshkigal

2014-07-13, 11:18 PM

Kar'Sol
Mekhet waves to the new goddess, tired smile upon its cogs.
"I hope my son's moon is suitable?"

In the Skies of the Furies
Over Vryking Lands, the furies still fought, still quarreled. Their eldest matron had recently died from old age, and over their rule had separated the flocks under the next strongest, who now fought for dominance. As two flocks gear up to fight, though, strange words and voices flow on the winds around them, unheard over the clamor for dominance.

"When I was just a little cloud, I found others and sailed across the seas~"

The flocks climb in the air, not listening for the most part as more voices join in around them.

"We flew over kingdoms, we drifted 'bove valleys, and this is what we see~"

The first of the furies break towards each other, screaming their otherwise directionless hate as they move to tear and rend at one another's wings, get the other to plummet to their death, when the wind currents begin throwing them about in the air, causing them to miss and to spiral out of control before they found the wind again. Suddenly, the voices boom as clouds form overhead, tossing all the furies apart from each other as the voices become howling winds, forcing them to the ground.

"Wars upon the lands, wars upon the seas, wars in the skies we see, but that is not what has to be, the future can be ours you see, won't you fly with me~"

They repeat those lines a few times as the furies are forced to land upon the beaches, returning to their humanoid forms as the gales form into hundreds of whirling, spinning masses of dust and vapors, like clouds given humanoid form. Some have multiple limbs, some form with wings, some form shorter than Skreechy while others are taller than Ut'Gal, but each seems to take color and form from what they can blow up around them as they look down upon the grounded furies.

"Wars upon the lands, wars upon the seas, wars in the skies we see, but that is not what has to be, the future can be ours you see, won't you fly with me~"

The clouds clear away as the refrain dies back down, and the zephyr zip about them, looking the furies over and talking a bit incoherently as a hundred ideas assault the poor furies, the Zephyr not having learned the difference between personal thoughts and public thoughts yet...

Klein
Slowly, the cursing from the sky dies down, as Mekhet looks to Skreechy.

"You know, that does feel a bit better. I shall grant you my assistance, Skreechy. Verenzano is under my protection, and so I offer my assistance there. I shall ensure you have housing, and after seeing your plays will assist you from there. Sound good?"

A hand extends, and a portal opens as Mekhet flips a cog around, leading to the Tower of Verenzano. The Ox, happy that Mekhet's no longer possibly about to destroy everything by accident or make everyone into ducks, cheer as Dock slaps the tiny goblin on the back before picking up a keg and heading towards the gates, as Holly and Dei collect Ahna and some of the relaxing Verens to go into Klein as well. Slowly, the tribe trickles back into the city, bringing the liquor and food with them to share with the people who had been hiding when the elves were about, and much merriment hopefully spreads.

Meanwhile, the Maruk looks to the East, and sees a land of sands. A land...that is the closest thing to a beach that the giant crab can play upon. It begins to walk towards the coast, Klein passing directly beneath the behemoth as it makes landfall, and walks through Galvastia.

Poor Anval.

Remains of Galvastia
However, this land had been ravaged by war, desecration, toraq, and now giant crab just walking right across it. The death toll was high, and the Masked Light overworked keeping up with the rising dead. But this is where the Storm Gate had headed. A hurricane grows over the entirety of the former country, and toraq are pelted with rain, and lightning fries the rising dead, melting flesh from bone, winds dragging the many corpses into the Eye to never be seen again. The Storm shall rage long there...

Road to Verenzano, Zalal, Shalee, Gold and the Handmaiden
The Handmaiden listens to Zalal, before looking to Shalee.
"Mekhet, It of Many Faces, bestowed a shard of my maker to me in her passing, and holds her remains in its protection. As you are the new god of commerce, I hope you find the work of the Lord of Luck a good basis. I shall give the Jackalope explanation."

The ground shakes slightly in the distance, and a crab about six miles tall and ungodly wide and long passes by dozens of miles away around now. More words form.

"...I shall also explain Maruk's migration. He may like your creation, by the way."

Eshkigal

2014-07-13, 11:49 PM

Mount Halcua

Faines looks down from the sky to the crabs around him, while his scarves continue to watch the sky. Around him, the Ut'Gal and Kobolds listen to the crab visitors, while a few Ut'Gal go over to investigate the merfolk.

Indeed, I am the one who watches over them. How do you do?

(Phantom, I'm going to be taking over the Kleiners exploring, since Valin left. Maybe the infernals too. Mind posting a question for them?)

"We do well, yer grace. Hopin' ya don't mind us about. From wha' we unnerstand, Cogbrain made our kin fer ya? Any others ya want given safety? We are summa tha best builders 'bout."

Meanwhile, the merfolk still get visibly nervous, but greet the Ut'Gal in turn. Until they begin changing form to try and match the Ut'Gal better, which is...interesting, to say the least.

Toxic Mind

2014-07-14, 12:26 AM

The Trial

On a body of flesh and bone, the effects of the attack would have been horrendous, reducing that person to little more than meat. As it was, The Falrak Golem was standing, but only barely. Holes peppered its body making it look like crystal Swiss cheese. Yet impossibly, it speaks. "Well fought, Kalux of the Fox. You have earned your victory today." With those words, the construct shatters, pieces falling to the ground. The stairs once more descend from the ceiling, and the feminine construct beckons Kalux upward. "Fighting, Kalux of the Fox. Remember always that your opponents have strength beyond what you may see. Remember that victory is never assured, and that death is never conquered, only delayed." She waits for the Toraq before ascending the stairs to the next level.

The Smith

As Mirmulnir approaches the Wayfinder Smith, the man does not look from his work. He has been at this shrine a long time, and trusts wholeheartedly in the protections. That being said, a staff carved with runes stands next to him, marking him as a wielder of many magics beyond even ooze-bending. The Wayfinder nods, as if he is unsurprising at the offer, and given his location, it is not surprising that he may have been forewarned of his guest. "And where are these orbs bound?" The Smith asks. He does not mention the supposed terms of the making, but Wayfinders are rare to break a bond, particularly one made in good faith. His acceptance of the job is confirmation of the terms. Yet even as he asks, he sets to work on the first of the orbs, his hands moving dexterously, aided by his magics.

Keth

The Reaper Primarch was searching. Mersahj was gone, Kereth's wards keeping her in the Sea of Trees, ignorant of everything beyond her world. She was happy, of course, but she was effectively gone from the world. It was as it should be, Keth thought. After all, the goddess had committed atrocities beyond count on her own people. But Mersahj had servants still, of great power and ferocity, and it was for these that Keth now hunted. The Leviathan still roamed the seas, and as long as they were unshackled, they remained a threat to every living being, their power enough to level a city. And so Keth hunts, attempting to find all of these beasts, and when he finds one, he inscribes upon it a rune, unnoticed even to the powerful creature, a rune of tracking. If they could be followed, then they could be neutralized, or perhaps even used.

Shmee

2014-07-14, 10:30 AM

~into the sun~

"Of course. I meant what I said about not making enemies today." Akora greeted the sun goddess with a smile as she arrived. "I must thank for the invitation. Perhaps I should return the kindness once I get settled in on the moon." She added before turning

Kar'Vode'an watches as her father leaves in a hurry, not even trying to relax in the home that she had created for them. "Men..." she says supposing that its only his nature to be restless as she turns her attention to Akora.

"Perhaps you will get that opportunity to repay my kindness sooner than you expect. You just caught us as Mekhet and I we were doing some brother-sister bonding and getting to know each other better. You'd be surprised how even a god may neglect to focus on family, especially when you are dealing with the day to day lives of your mortals."

"Now then Moon Princess. I'd like to get to know a little more about you, since our sun and moon shall be dominating the skies. Where does Akora, goddess of the moons and matron of truth stand in the affairs of the gods?" Mekhet would recognize this as the same question she had once asked the goddess of Justice when they were in Klein.

===============================================

Klein
Slowly, the cursing from the sky dies down, as Mekhet looks to Skreechy.

"You know, that does feel a bit better. I shall grant you my assistance, Skreechy. Verenzano is under my protection, and so I offer my assistance there. I shall ensure you have housing, and after seeing your plays will assist you from there. Sound good?"

A hand extends, and a portal opens as Mekhet flips a cog around, leading to the Tower of Verenzano. The Ox, happy that Mekhet's no longer possibly about to destroy everything by accident or make everyone into ducks, cheer as Dock slaps the tiny goblin on the back before picking up a keg and heading towards the gates, as Holly and Dei collect Ahna and some of the relaxing Verens to go into Klein as well. Slowly, the tribe trickles back into the city, bringing the liquor and food with them to share with the people who had been hiding when the elves were about, and much merriment hopefully spreads.

Meanwhile, the Maruk looks to the East, and sees a land of sands. A land...that is the closest thing to a beach that the giant crab can play upon. It begins to walk towards the coast, Klein passing directly beneath the behemoth as it makes landfall, and walks through Galvastia.

Poor Anval.

The little Goblin is placed on the ground and a portal is opened "Yes... yes... that's right! Soon even the gods will be all owing me favors! I can influence anyone now! The world is mine! Mwahahahahahaha! Power! Friends! Money! Prestige! I can have it all it all now! Mwahahahaha! I am free!" he mumbles to himself while rubbing his hands, unaware that everyone can hear his diabolical master plan. However his planning is abruptly interrupted when the Ox slaps Skreechy on the back, sending the Goblin sprawling onto the ground.

The Goblin immediately jumps up and begins screaming "INSIGNIFICANT PEON! THE ABYSS DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING? DARE YOU TOUCH MEKHET'S CHOSEN FRIEND, DARE YOU?" It seems that somehow Skreechy had decided to promote himself to "Chosen". Considering that Skreechy had just gone toe to toe with a god in a screaming contest, no one can truly know were this little Goblin was finding the energy to continue screaming.

"YOU ARE RIGHT THOUGH insignificant godling... I AM TOO GOOD FOR THIS PATHETIC CITY! After careful consideration, you should REJOICE! For I have decided to take your offer, and grace your city WITH MY PLAYS! But I need a name... SKREECHY BARAHAHA WILL JUST NOT DO! For that is a name that brings me back painful memories of elephant butts! I shall give myself a name THAT EVERYONE SHALL KNOW... and I know just the name..."

Skreechy jumps in front of the portal and raises his fist, as if defying the heavens that had given him such a wretched fate as he declares "From now on, I shall no longer be called Skreechy! FROM NOW ON! I! AM.... AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRG WHAT THE FRAK IS THAT?!?!?!?!"

He screams on the top of his lungs as the giant crab makes its appearance above Klein. "IT'S GONNA GOBBLE ME UP! DON'T EAT ME! I'LL COME BACK AS A STOMACH INFECTION TO HAUNT YOU IF YOU EAT ME" still yelling, the Goblin sees his once chance to escape from the impending doom: Mekhet's portal.

Running towards it he stops to make one final declaration "You'll see! I'll show you all! You'll remember this day! Remember it I tell you! For today, I cast my name away! FROM THIS DAY FORTH I SHALL BE KNOWN! AS..." *Pop* Sadly the portal closes as the Goblin jumps into it, cutting the big revelation of his name.

However, the people of Verenzano witness a sight most strange. A diminutive and smelly Goblin running down the streets for his life all the while screaming

"NILBOG THE GREAT! MWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!"

And thus began the legend.

A few days after Mekhet hears that indeed Skreechy did take his offer for finding a house. Strangely enough, it would seem that the amounts of Goblins who would call Verenzano's sewers "home" are few already. Still, it was the constant cackling that the citizens would complain is coming from the sewers that confirmed the Goblin's were-about.

Then again maybe it was the smell.

1AP: Curse the world: The Legend of Nilbog the Great (TM): Nilbog the Great, a dark and ominous name heard in whispers across the world that would silence a crying child. A ruthless mastermind of destruction bent on global domination, Nilbog's reputation and notoriety is spread with each of his achievements, although the exact details seem to vary depending on who is telling the story. However it is clear that Nilbog seems to have his hand behind many of the world's conflicts and crisis. For example, Nilbog was seen leading the ravenous horde of Galvastians against Klein, and then crashing the city's Feast. He is also credited for instigating the Storm of Obscenities which has taught children to talk like sailors for generations to come. And it is even whispered that his power is so great that he is even able to influence the gods!

The downside is that no one will ever believe that Skreechy is in fact Nilbog the Great, despite the Goblin's protests. Who would ever believe that such a global menace is a tiny insane and blundering Goblin?

ThePhantom

2014-07-14, 08:41 PM

(Phantom, I'm going to be taking over the Kleiners exploring, since Valin left. Maybe the infernals too. Mind posting a question for them?)

"We do well, yer grace. Hopin' ya don't mind us about. From wha' we unnerstand, Cogbrain made our kin fer ya? Any others ya want given safety? We are summa tha best builders 'bout."

Meanwhile, the merfolk still get visibly nervous, but greet the Ut'Gal in turn. Until they begin changing form to try and match the Ut'Gal better, which is...interesting, to say the least.

Halcua-crabs

"He did indeed, though one race was an accident. As for building, I think I might need to do some thinking about this. Halcua is limited in its size, and the lands away from it are not as suited for them."

Well, that falls under certainly strange. There's quite a difference between an Ut'Gal and one of these merfolk, which means when the merfolk start changing, the kobolds run away. The Ut'Gal themselves are a bit alarmed, but since their god is right there, they believe that this should be fine.

Halcua-tribunal

The three speakers of the races of Halcua looks at their guests. A group similar to that of the Toraq, but more gentle is one, the elderly Ut'Gal thinks. A group of large monsters, but sent to teach our brothers, thinks the kobold. And both groups asking for the same privilege, thinks the healer.

"You have come here to be judged worthy of being at this sacred place." The Ut'Gal matron speaks.
"Why do you think yourselves worthy of this, visitors to Mount Halcua?" Asks the healer, born of the Toraq.

DoctorGlock

2014-07-14, 10:28 PM

Road to Verenzano, Zalal, Shalee, Gold and the Handmaiden
The Handmaiden listens to Zalal, before looking to Shalee.
"Mekhet, It of Many Faces, bestowed a shard of my maker to me in her passing, and holds her remains in its protection. As you are the new god of commerce, I hope you find the work of the Lord of Luck a good basis. I shall give the Jackalope explanation."

The ground shakes slightly in the distance, and a crab about six miles tall and ungodly wide and long passes by dozens of miles away around now. More words form.

"...I shall also explain Maruk's migration. He may like your creation, by the way."

Zahav let out a low whistle at the sight of the world-crab. "I feel for the poor son of a bitch who has to mop up after that thing... I mean, we are talking turds the size of nation-states here. Turds that can have their own ecosystems. I mean jeez, you can market that as fertilizer and never run out of stock!"

Zalal reaches out and offers a cigar to the handmaiden. "You want a smoke? Good thing to explain around."

Dragonsage

2014-07-14, 11:35 PM

Kar'Sol
Mekhet waves to the new goddess, tired smile upon its cogs.
"I hope my son's moon is suitable?"

In the Skies of the Furies
Over Vryking Lands, the furies still fought, still quarreled. Their eldest matron had recently died from old age, and over their rule had separated the flocks under the next strongest, who now fought for dominance. As two flocks gear up to fight, though, strange words and voices flow on the winds around them, unheard over the clamor for dominance.

"When I was just a little cloud, I found others and sailed across the seas~"

The flocks climb in the air, not listening for the most part as more voices join in around them.

"We flew over kingdoms, we drifted 'bove valleys, and this is what we see~"

The first of the furies break towards each other, screaming their otherwise directionless hate as they move to tear and rend at one another's wings, get the other to plummet to their death, when the wind currents begin throwing them about in the air, causing them to miss and to spiral out of control before they found the wind again. Suddenly, the voices boom as clouds form overhead, tossing all the furies apart from each other as the voices become howling winds, forcing them to the ground.

"Wars upon the lands, wars upon the seas, wars in the skies we see, but that is not what has to be, the future can be ours you see, won't you fly with me~"

They repeat those lines a few times as the furies are forced to land upon the beaches, returning to their humanoid forms as the gales form into hundreds of whirling, spinning masses of dust and vapors, like clouds given humanoid form. Some have multiple limbs, some form with wings, some form shorter than Skreechy while others are taller than Ut'Gal, but each seems to take color and form from what they can blow up around them as they look down upon the grounded furies.

"Wars upon the lands, wars upon the seas, wars in the skies we see, but that is not what has to be, the future can be ours you see, won't you fly with me~"

The clouds clear away as the refrain dies back down, and the zephyr zip about them, looking the furies over and talking a bit incoherently as a hundred ideas assault the poor furies, the Zephyr not having learned the difference between personal thoughts and public thoughts yet...

~Kar'Sol~

"Of course. T'is a very lovely moon. I'll do all that I can to care for it." Akora replied to Mekhet before returning to the Kar'Vode'an when she was addressed. "At present I must say that I do not many solid loyalties, other than to my originator.." She blushes lightly upon thinking about to her interaction with Mirmulnir.

~The search for Furies~

Akora was very disappointed to find that the Matriarch of the furies had passed away and created a power vacuum among their kind. Upon seeing the battle, she was going to intervene when the voices on the wind catches her attention before the violent winds pickup and force the Furies to the ground, leaving only the goddess in the air before wind itself took on humanoid forms.

She was glad that the fighting was brought to an end but with the poor furies under the barrage of thoughts, the goddess still had to intervene. She lowered herself between where the majority of each party stood, and with the light from the moon above her runes glowed brightly enough to garner the attention of both parties. Once she has their focus, her runes fade in their glow. "Beings of wind, I thank you putting an end to this battle but please quiet yourselves as you are bringing much discomfort to the furies." After addressing the zephyrs, the goddess then turns to the grounded furies and lowers herself to the ground to meet with them on an eye level.

Many of the furies were more than vexed, to say the least, that their battle for control was interrupted but more than a few were curious of the maiden was glowing with the light of the moon just moments ago. "I understand that this battle was to be important, but these creatures are right. There is another way."

"But we have no matriarch to lead us any more!" One of the battle damaged furies approached Akora. "There must be one to lead us and only battle will show who is worthy of such a role."

"No!" Akora gave the fury a stern look before continuing to speak to the whole of the gathered furies. "While it is true that you may require a matriarch to lead you, battle is not the only way." With a wave of her hand, the moon light shimmered over the furies and began mending the wounds they had received in battle. "But a leader born in battle would only know battle. What you need is a leader who would tend to the needs of her people, especially during times of peace. Join me and I can be such a leader for you."

With the furies in amazement of their wounds being healed by the very light of the moon, before they all come together to herald Akora as their new matriarch. "Come we shall go meet and join your earthbound kin," She then lifted herself off the ground before turning to the Zephyrs. "And what of you? What shall you do?"

AP: 15-1=14
Blessing: 1 AP Healing moon
Akora's Waifs and her other followers, they receive regenerative healing whilst under the light of the moon.

ThePhantom

2014-07-16, 09:20 PM

Naia immediately backed off, covering her mouth in shock. "O-of course, my lord! This is... uh..." She seemed to be looking for something to say, but said nothing and turned to lead him into the palace. The servants and slaves backed away as they came through, as if afraid of the new god.

The two reached the throne room, where Sein was licking the belly of one of his slaves. He looked up as the woman in his lap writhed in pleasure, and cocked an eyebrow. "Naia, Rei'Sa, leave us." The woman in his lap displayed clear disappointment, but quickly sat up and began moving when she noticed the other god. The drow and the high elf left the room quickly.

Sein was nude, but he still managed to bear a regal air as he laid back on his throne and looked at the other god. "I am Sein, master of slaves, charmer of maidens, god of authority and fertility. What brings you to my home?"

7+4=11

Not the first time Faines meets a god in the nude, his father is like that all the time. Faines' scarves move around him as he looks around the throne room. He hadn't visited here before. In a moment, he refocuses on his relative.

"I am Faines, god of fire and music. I wanted to see the elven city, and check up on my newest relative. It appears that you have arranged things to suit yourself quite nicely. So, would you care to share with me your plans for the future? I would prefer not to have issues rise between us when they could have been avoided."

HalfTangible

2014-07-17, 01:49 AM

Eldamar

2014-07-17, 06:30 AM

Wayshrine
The God and the Smith

“Best you pay more attention to your craft than to me. These techniques shall be bound to you and your apprentice, a teacher and student henceforth so none may know the secrets of my orbs but you and your heirs.” The agitation of explaining himself quite apparent in the god’s voice as he disappears entirely, leaving the Wayfinder with the knowledge and materials needed to forge palantiri.

The Void Beyond Creation
Forging of the Orb of Power

For his will to be made material, secrecy shall serve as his greatest shield as ever. His departure from the Prime Material brought him to the entrance of the vast Labyrinth long forgotten lying upon the borders of the Void. The endless maze with a thousand exits but one entrance would’ve taken a thousand lifetimes to navigate by any mortal, but Mirmulnir was Lord of Secrets, and his wanderings brought him far and wide. Alone at the center of the abandoned maze, the black god unseals the door leading beyond creations and plunges fearlessly into the abyss.

Time was very short, less the eldritch horrors find the door. The Well of Midnight served its purpose of distracting them, but these abominations were clever and ever seeking new ways to cross the veil and feast upon creation. Gathering the very essence of the void to him, Mirmulnir begins his work. Separating his own metallic flesh and crafting it into a sphere, sparks of a million colors fly as the God of Magic, Secrets, and Undeath combines not only magics twisted and profane, but his very essence, what mortals may even call his soul, with tangible vapors of the Void itself, and containing it all within an object of his own flesh.

So when the hooded god returns to the Labyrinth, sealing shut the Door Beyond behind him with his own spells now, deep within himself was his Orb. The All-Seeing Eye, the Black Stone, the Great Scrying Sphere, the One Palantir, Mirmulnir’s Soul.

The Forge of Sparks

Emerging from a smoking singularity, Mirmulnir materializes sitting upon his throne at the council table. With the Mechanicus dwindling once again in number, proper stewardship of their fallen comrades’ projects and territories became paramount less those who may abuse it seize them.

“Progenitor, the Self-Perpetuating Mechanism has grown silent and still, the works of his forebearers’ remain unguarded. With our power dwindling, I suggest we consolidate what yet remains under our influence. The Crucible and all its works lies unguarded and can easily be abused by mortals and gods alike. If you will allow it, I offer one of my draconic children as steward to rule and guard over it on our behalf.”

Starting AP: 12AP/1PAP
Create Relic 4AP: Mirmulnir's Orb - A black sphere forged of Mirmulnir's flesh, soul, magic, and the Void itself. The Master of all Palantiri that allows the wielder to observe all palantiri in the world secretly, and allow the wielder to influence anything using one. It goes beyond the limited use of the mortal creations, allowing the holder to scry anything and anyone within or without creation unless they actively block that vision (other god's personal planes, curses/blessings/relics/artifacts with cloaking effects, etc), though it doesn't render the holder the ability to observe everything at once (trying might just induce madness if it's possible at all). Amplifies Mirmulnir's spells and better focuses his divine powers.
Ending AP: 9AP

Arcran

2014-07-17, 10:26 AM

Round Three

The Trial

On a body of flesh and bone, the effects of the attack would have been horrendous, reducing that person to little more than meat. As it was, The Falrak Golem was standing, but only barely. Holes peppered its body making it look like crystal Swiss cheese. Yet impossibly, it speaks. "Well fought, Kalux of the Fox. You have earned your victory today." With those words, the construct shatters, pieces falling to the ground. The stairs once more descend from the ceiling, and the feminine construct beckons Kalux upward. "Fighting, Kalux of the Fox. Remember always that your opponents have strength beyond what you may see. Remember that victory is never assured, and that death is never conquered, only delayed." She waits for the Toraq before ascending the stairs to the next level.

Kalux hardly even heard the words; as soon as the golem was pinned Kalux was sprinting towards Silver, attempting to save his friend. While he could tell that his companion was alive, he couldn't tell quite to what extent. His hands move quickly, trying to discern the extent of Silver's injuries.

A Scared Child

Spire of Quark

The white tail coiled around the small child sways above the empty sky, for a brief moment, before retracting the Toraqi back to safety atop the iron pillar and uncurling from his waist. “You’re offer is acceptable. My siblings have told the Magisters of your arrival by now. One will likely present themselves to you once you’ve reached the courtyard below. Relay to them what you’ve told me, and they’ll see to it you have what you need.” The blue-eyed drake lowers his lengthy neck below the edge of his perch, extending his head another thirty feet below his body to spout a burst of scarlet flame.

Not a moment later, the child hears the loud flapping of dragon wings as Ziilthuras rises from the yard below and snatches the child unceremoniously from where he stood to ferry him to the base of the Spire. The dragon remained silent, hardly noticing the Toraq while his tail thumped against the grass to summon an attendant from the Spire, a purple robed apprentice in her early twenties.

“Come in, come in! The Dragonlords are preoccupied on this joyous occasion, don’t waste any more of their time!” She squeaks, nearly jogging with her head caste away from Ziilthuras to grab Pickles by the hand and pull him along inside.

The young child does exactly as the dragon commanded, begging that they send an animal so that the big white thing doesn't drop him off the tower.

Eshkigal

2014-07-17, 11:46 AM

Road to Verenzano
The Handmaiden shakes her head before more words form.

"I am sorry, but I have no lungs. Although I could inhabit the smoke for a time. At any rate, I shall no longer hold your journey up, and the guards shall be told. Mekhet will see you upon your arrival."

Her body begins to fall back into dust as she lets it go.

Verenzano
As Riloaf enters, he notices the sheer vibrant nature of the city. Everything seems in constant motion, wares are cried, goods trading hands, people passing and talking with each other. No one really notices him as anything different, for everyone has their own business to attend and his war against the Mad Dragon had been long ago. The streets looked purposefully obfuscating, and that was because they were-to an untrained eye, the entire city looked like random pieces of cultures tossed together, no two buildings even remotely the same, but...there was an odd flow. Each piece was chosen because it complimented another, aesthetically and defensively, each street had a progression that those who were born to it could easily navigate, flowing about the city in such a way that any malevolent force would find itself in numerous choke points, with paths of least resistance leading back to where they started. Where two grand temples dominate the skyline, one shows more signs of general fatigue, the god's name and statue faces worn away. As he passes a well, he can feel Allareth swim below through plentiful ooze, and as she pokes her head out with a crab sitting on her head cannot help but give a small laugh. Seems she was making friends.

Allareth, meanwhile, was rather enjoying having a land built to handle her populated by creatures she could not burn by accident. The crabs were nice enough, and the strange eel people were warming up to her. They showed her the ever expanding tunnels and cavern city below Verenzano, ooze filling it and with strong, surprisingly immune to corrosion pillars dotting the burgeoning crab city. Maybe a million crabs, easy, were living below the city in the comfort of the dark.

Elsewhere, a girl tried to navigate her way around, a playful wind tussling her messy hair. However, the place was crawling with Toraq! Even with her power, she did not like her odds against-
*thwump*
Her thoughts are cut short as, in her haste to hide from one of the strange rabbit toraq (who she did not know had been told to treat her as a city hero, for in a way, she was), ran into a rather tall, muscular man, some ox like features in his face, clothed as a smith and carrying loads of a new metal ingot recently purchased for attempts to find new ways to smelt. As she bounces back and to the ground, he puts the ore down, helping her up.
"Sorry 'bout that, wasn't watching where I was going. You alright, miss...?"
She looks hesitant at first, before the wind blows by her face and the man can almost swear he hears laughter. She hesitates again before saying her name.
"Mollana. Mollana Heynes."
The wind flows around her before forming a tiny bird of dust and air on her shoulder.
"This bundle of energy is Sidhe. I seem to be a bit lost, could you help me?"
The man shakes her hand, and nods.
"Wyatt, an' sure, Molly. Jus' gotta get this to the forge first. C'mon, we'l see where we can get you to."
Together, the two begin heading towards the outskirts of the city, engaging in some small talk on the way.

(Eld, grab whenever you want, the guy's going to try and learn to forge Mithral and I have plans for him. Everyone else gets a different post, just needed to get some done...)

Toxic Mind

2014-07-17, 12:01 PM

The Forge of Sparks

"Agreed. However, your dragon will be caretaker only, not guard. It will see that such power is not abused, but rather used to further the advances of all. I will send a Reaper to accompany your dragon. The two will provide the services needed at the Crucible until such time as it can be stewarded into the care of another." Business. Business keeps Kereth's mind off the real problem. The Forge felt so empty now. So dead.

Everything felt dead.

"We shall steward Klein together, as the Mechanicus. For so long as you remain on the mortal plane, you will be their protector, unknown if you wish it. I know you have cities of your own to tend. It is long past time that I rejoined the world. It has been too long since they have felt my presence." Kereth throws himself into the task, thinking of ways to improve Klein, and keep it whole. Anything to distract him.

The Trial

Silver yips at the pain, the fox's broken ribs already healing. Her fur is matted with blood from the strike, but those wounds have already closed. She stands, unsteadily, but stronger every second, and nudges Kalux towards the stairs. Kalux can feel gratitude radiating from the fox.

Shmee

2014-07-17, 02:27 PM

~Kar'Sol~

"Of course. T'is a very lovely moon. I'll do all that I can to care for it." Akora replied to Mekhet before returning to the Kar'Vode'an when she was addressed. "At present I must say that I do not many solid loyalties, other than to my originator.." She blushes lightly upon thinking about to her interaction with Mirmulnir.

"I suppose that is to be expected. I too am very intimate with my... 'originator'. Here is a tip from one with experience: make them wait. I made my beloved wait aeons for me, and then that indescribable feeling the moment he finally took me in his arms..." that goddess of Love begins licking her lips at the thought "Yes... I believe I shall have Artoran take me once again the moment he comes back home... by force if I have to! Only a fool denies what I truly want!" However Kar'Vode'an is not blushing... she is clearly having naughty thoughts as she beings giving an evil leer.

"Tell me of your originator then. I have not had the pleasure of meeting him, as according to my brother, he doesn't enjoy making himself known."

Eldamar

2014-07-17, 04:50 PM

The Forge of Sparks

“My Ascension beyond the Prime Material is imminent, Progenitor. I have only to complete my current tasks. The defense of Klein should be delegated to what agents we yet have in the world. My Children have tasks of their own away from Klein, but perhaps their newest arrival can take that duty upon himself when grown to maturity.” Mirmulnir grasps the Arachne heads carved into the arms of his throne, leaning forward to stare at Kereth with his newfound grey eyes in his otherwise hollow hood.

“You seem to lack faith in I, or my Children which I take as a lack in faith of me. They are me in draconic form, and I am them in a way. Where the Crucible stands, it is useless. An island hundreds of miles at sea with a mere metal bridge connecting it to a vast wilderness, uninhabited. I suggest we move it someplace it can be placed to better use.” Laying flat his palm, a three dimensional image of the surface of the world appears like before, displaying its geography void of clouds or weather patterns. The burning mountain fades from its current location and appears at once in three separate locals. Off the shore of Klein, at the center of the bay between Galvastia and Malagor, and at the very southern tip of Galvastia near Faine’s sacred volcanos.

“Klein is losing its purpose as the center of scientific research and understanding. The Minotaurs are far too simple to grasp its concepts, but perhaps in time. Placing it amongst the crossroads of what may grow into a vibrant center of civilization. In the south lives the cloistered lizard folk and living rock, their lives centered round stone, fire, and metal. The Crucible might offer them a cultural renaissance beyond which their music god could hope to offer. Of course, we could offer the Crucible to whatever Autons seeking to experience the mortal realm, though the manner of its location hardly matters for that purpose.”

“And with the departure of so many of our kin, we are perhaps left with only one. My offspring may consent to joining us in our purpose, if perhaps her thoughts aren’t tainted by Artoran and his Devil Bride, though I suspect she is of greater stock than their likes can dream of corrupting. If we are firm in our purpose, I request we find a more befitting name. The Lords that forged this place, and the Mechanicus are long dead and their heirs with them. The Lords of Death, as we are Progenitor, have no skill or interest in the workings of cogs, metal, and forges. Let us proclaim what we truly are and hang the Title of our Fallen brethren on the mantle. Never to be forgotten, but so we may step beyond their shadow.”

Starting AP: 9AP
Rollover: 1PAP
Ending AP: 9AP/1PAP

Toxic Mind

2014-07-17, 06:46 PM

Eldamar

2014-07-17, 08:43 PM

The Forge of Sparks

"There is no lack of faith in you, son of mine, nor in your creations. Never forget that. Do you believe the Crucible could propel Klein back into the fore of technology and civilization, or is that fall inevitable in your mind? For that may determine what the best course of action is regarding where the Crucible will lay." Kereth leans back, and looks at the many chairs around him. All inhabited, once. Would they approve? Did it matter? "And what would you have this reforged coalition named?"

The Forge of Sparks

"Any civilization presented with the Crucible would find itself propelled forward by centuries. I have peered into its depths and can only conclude, such is the knowledge and means stored within. We have only to decide what civilization benefits from such a boon." Sweeping his gaze towards Truth, still resting upon Nika's empty seat he ponders Kereth's final question long and hard.

Speaking up, his voice dwindles before rising with conviction over his decision. "We are simply Archons. We are bound by blood and purpose, we need not name ourselves representative of such like Mechanicus, or Unchained, or Myriad Shield. Let our mortal followers who worshipped the Mechanicus refer to use simply as the Archons, Lords on High, Masters of Death and Undeath, Light and Magic, Wisdom and Knowledge. Is that agreeable, Progenitor?"

Shmee

2014-07-18, 06:03 AM

The Strange Chronicles of the Mysterious Goblin
Chapter 3: When you dream upon a beam.

It was a typical peaceful day in Verenzano, just like so many that had come before, it seemed that this day would also just roll on by uneventfully. The citizens of the city were keeping themselves busy, strolling around the city and enjoying the sunshine that seemed to be promised for that day, blissfully unaware of the events that would soon unfold. A particular couple strolled by one of the many wishing wells that could be found in the city, and upon seeing one remembered an old folktale which said that if you threw a coin into the well and made a wish, it would come true.

And so the couple tossed a coin into the well and made their wish, not realizing the horrors that they would unwittingly unleash as from deep within a horrifying sound can be heard approaching

"EEEEEEEEIIIIIIIIIIIIIEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE EEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA'!!!!!!!!!!!!!! !!!!!" Until a horrible figure erupts from the ooze beneath, filled with major burns all over its body and spewing the ooze that it had swallowed between ragged breaths, the filthy green creature eyes the couple who had summoned it from the unholy depths from were it came from

"THE ABYSS IS WRONG WITH YOU PEOPLE? YOU DARE THROW CHUMP CHANGE IN MY FACE DARE YOU!?" screams the creature with its infernal voice (for what else could it possibly be?) as it flings the coin straight to the woman's face. "TAKE THAT! AND BUY YOURSELF A NEW FACE WHILE YOU'RE AT IT! MWAHAHAHAHAHAHAH!" The creatures laughter is cut short however and quickly replaced with "UNHAND ME PATHETIC PEASANT! NO! NO! NOT THE FACE! NOT THE FACE!" as nature takes its course, and the boyfriend begins pummeling the creature. Within moments, it is over with the aggravated couple walking away, and the creature left kissing the floor.

And thus a new legend arose in Verenzano. If you make a wish upon a wishing well, there is a chance that you may summon the dreaded Nilbog the Great! All wishers beware!

Later that the day, Nilbog is busy sporting several bandages, almost making the Goblin look mummified, however as he desired some quiet time... as quiet as it can reasonably get anywhere near Nilbog that is... he decides to spend the day somewhere where he will not be noticed. Thus finding a suitable pigsty, Nilbog sits and beings scribbling something on a scroll. Naturally the farmers wanted to complain about the smell but upon noticing that the Goblin was busy arguing with the pigs and yelling "SWINISH SWINE! SNORT ON ME AGAIN AND YOUR CONTRIBUTION TO MY DINNER SHALL BE LEGENDARY! DO YOU HEAR ME? LEGENDARY!!!!" wisely decided not to get involved in his constant screaming. Maybe if they ignored it, it would leave... eventually.

As the sun went down, Nilbog finally puts his quill down and raises his scroll to the heavens

"FINALLY! After so much time plotting and preparing... IT IS READY! BEWARE WORLD! For in my hands IS THE TOOL WITH WHICH ALL SHOW BOW DOWN TO THE GREATNESS WHICH IS NILBOG THE GREAT! Behold! MY MAGNUM OPUS WITH WHICH I SHALL CONQUER THE WORLD! MWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!"

He begins cackling in glee, as he sees his master plan slowly yet surly unfolding. However, noticing that no one actually cares, Nilbog goes off into the city... after all, he would require a stage.

The next morning, the citizens of Verenzano awaken to a strange sight. Almost overnight, the entire city was flooded with crudely designed posters with stick figures supposedly fighting one another.

Tonight at the Theater! Do not miss your chance to see the opening night of the greatest tragedy ever told! You will be moved! You will cry! Some may even fall in love when you witness

"THE TRAGEDY OF PRINCE QWERTY, PRINCESS SQUIGGY AND THE DRAGON!"

WRITTEN, FUNDED, PRODUCED AND DIRECTED BY:

NILBOG THE GREAT!

Even as the people are not sure what to make of this, they fail to notice a diminutive Goblin walking around troubled. He had until tonight to find his actors. He wasn't troubled though... he knew that soon this city would be at the palm of his hands, as he walks into a dark alley cackling to himself with glee, first seeking out the one who would play the part of Princess Squiggy.

Dragonsage

2014-07-18, 07:21 PM

"I suppose that is to be expected. I too am very intimate with my... 'originator'. Here is a tip from one with experience: make them wait. I made my beloved wait aeons for me, and then that indescribable feeling the moment he finally took me in his arms..." that goddess of Love begins licking her lips at the thought "Yes... I believe I shall have Artoran take me once again the moment he comes back home... by force if I have to! Only a fool denies what I truly want!" However Kar'Vode'an is not blushing... she is clearly having naughty thoughts as she beings giving an evil leer.

"Tell me of your originator then. I have not had the pleasure of meeting him, as according to my brother, he doesn't enjoy making himself known."

Akora thinks on the advice of the older goddess on how to court her own father, wondering if it would be a good path for her to pursue. She then tries to tuck the idea side when she was asked more about Mirmulnir. "I am truly sorry, but as you already know Mirmulnir values his secrecy and since I hold him in such high respect, there is little to nothing I can tell you about him. perhaps I could try to arrange a meeting with him at some point, so you may get to know him personally?"

DoctorGlock

2014-07-18, 08:09 PM

Road to Verrenzano

Zahav sighed. No lungs. That wasn't the damned point. It wasn't like he had lungs either, you don't pass up a good cigar! Oh well, he seemed to have his permits in order. Be a shame to have to buy inspectors before he set up shop.

"Ha! God of commerce?" Zahav cackled to the assembled Toraq. "Boy do we got a surprise for them. They ain't seen nothing yet. You ain't seen nothing yet. I got plans that reach to the ends of the earth. Hell, maybe even more. So here's the deal. I got work to do, lines to lay, lines to do. I reckon we are going to be everywhere soon enough, so I want you lot to be able to keep in touch. So I got another gift for you."

Zahav reached into some of the sorted loot and picked up a sheet of mirror glass. "See here, not much to look at on its own. Let me show you a trick."

Zahav tossed the mirror into the air and snapped his fingers. While attention was directed at that hand, the other punched the mirror on the way down, shattering it. Into perfect rectangles measuring 5" by 3."

"Everyone take one. This is going to be out quick and dirty primary communications. See me through it? Because I see you. Direct person to person communications. Just us for now. But this is going far once I get the infrastructure in place. Infrastructure that needs protecting. Infrastructure at the ends of the earth. Infrastructure that ensures the money comes to us!"

The ground begins the tremble and heave as the wurm comes barreling out. Already it has increased in size noticeably, consuming the dirt and sand of the plains. Zahav grins savagely and cuts his palms in front of the Toraq, blood of molten gold flowing into long hooks. Grabbing the flanks of the wurm with them, he is lifted up to its towering back.

"Any of you that dream big? Come on board."

Concept: Broadcast Towers (closed-3)- each tower is placed and calibrated to deliver sound messages across a wide area, somewhere around the size of a small town. Each tower operates from a broadcast station which must be nearby.

Concept (closed-3)- Communication lines - Ley-lines have been shifted to intersect with a central nexus hub and to radiate outwards to all boradcast towers. The central hub can now broadcast messages to any Tower that is situated on or near a ley line.

The Hub (Artifact-4) - This mysterious structure binds together Ley Lines and allows them to be used for voice communication by anyone who reaches the top of the tower and imputs the correct rune command sequences.

Mirrors (closed-3): Each mirror is a handheld device that allows the weilder to recieve broadcasts from the hub no matter where they travel, inside or out of a ley line. They recieve voice communications, and must be routed through a Broadcast tower, or they will not fuction properly. In addition, each mirror is attuned to its weilder, and thus cannot be taken from them and used by another person. - Zahav can use the mirrors to communicate with any who hold them without using the HUB. Each mirror has a specific rune-code etched into it, rune code sequences can be broadcast to a tower and routed to a specific mirror. These are essentially magic cellphones and radios

Arcran

2014-07-18, 11:05 PM

A Happy Fox

The Trial

Silver yips at the pain, the fox's broken ribs already healing. Her fur is matted with blood from the strike, but those wounds have already closed. She stands, unsteadily, but stronger every second, and nudges Kalux towards the stairs. Kalux can feel gratitude radiating from the fox.

Kalux breathes an audible sigh of relief as he feels Silver's regular breathing. Comforted by that simple fact, Kalux and Silver begin to climb the steps once more, moving on towards the next floor.

Eshkigal

2014-07-19, 12:52 AM

Kar'Sol
Mekhet smiles before his eyes widen, and his face droops again.
"I think...I think our family dwindles again, Kar."
He looks to the lands below, thinking.
"I believe...yes, I believe it is time the dead gods were given acknowledgement..."
This would take a while...

Maruk-Crossing the River
Meanwhile, the Maruk had plodded through Galvastia, and was coming to the gulf between them and Anval. The dragons get a nasty scare as it looms near them, a foot landing, for the Maruk's size, dangerously close to Quark by a couple hundred miles as the giant crab partially passes overhead. In three strides, the Maruk passes over the gap between the two continents, and...by Papa! There's so much sand! With a gleeful gurgle, the Maruk reaches out and begins scooping the desert towards himself, making a large mound in front of the bridge that is miles tall, and several hundred wide. As the mound grows, the Maruk begins trying to shape it, gurgling happily as his first of many sand castles takes shape.

4/15 AP to start
Alter Land-1 AP. Maruk's Sandcastle. The Maruk spied the desert one day, and decided he wanted to play. So he walked over and began playing, scooping up large gouges of the desert and making a plateau about three miles tall, and have about a hundred mile radius. He then began carving this mound into sandcastles, and routinely smashes and rebuilds the castle with childlike glee. Unfortunately, the trajectory measured cuts in front of the Rainbow Bridge heavily.

Mt. Halcua-Crab battle?
"Well, perhaps we can fix that. Why not expand their lands? Ain't like they're really bein' used right now. An' frankly, new borders could prolly be a good thing fer'em."

(Kleiners are giving me issues still, need to figure out how to even do that.)

Vrykin Lands
The zephyr wander about as Ankora talks, apparently easily distracted until the goddess addresses them. They look to each other, winds changing pacing, before one forms and shrugs. Her currents sound like a happy summer breeze as they waft by.
"Explore the world, see what's cool, poke things? Papa Mekhet lets us choose our own destiny, but wished to let our mom see the world. We're going to continue that."

ThePhantom

2014-07-20, 07:57 PM

"My 'plan'? She just walked out that door." He said simply, placing his hands behind his head and leaning back, his expression bored. "Mother told me of the Mechani-whatsit and the Unbound or Unchained or whatever. I don't care about either of them. I wish to add new slaves to my harem and f$#%. That's all. In exchange the women I touch will birth far more than the norm for their species." He pointed to the door. "And as you saw, they are quite eager to 'serve' their god."

"If that's what you want, then perhaps you could use my help. I know more of this world than you do, and music has a way of reaching people. If we work together, there will be benefits for both of us."

One of Faines' scarves reaches out to the younger god, as if it was a hand outstretched to him.

Kar'Sol

Mt. Halcua-Crab battle?
"Well, perhaps we can fix that. Why not expand their lands? Ain't like they're really bein' used right now. An' frankly, new borders could prolly be a good thing fer'em."

(Kleiners are giving me issues still, need to figure out how to even do that.)
]

Faines scarves pause, then flare out around him as he smiles at the crabs.

"Yes. That is a fine idea. I'll set up a few new volcanos, expand the forest I created, and then my peoples and yours can have more land to call their own. Yes, the children of my friend deserve more land, just like those of mine do."

In fact, Faines has gotten started on that. North of the Forest of Naurbrethil, a new volcano rises up, to fix the stage for an Ut'Gal expansion in the future.

Alter land -1 AP. Ending AP 15AP +1PP

Darklady2831

2014-07-23, 01:52 AM

In the Deep, Nothing Good Grows

For many years, the deep had isolated itself, cutting off all contact. Not a single rat-man was heard from or seen for a hundred moons. Deep below the ground, they toiled. They dug pits, widened ravines, and tunnelled into the core of the world itself. Deep below the surface, they found death given mortal form. Titanic beasts, each as large as a small town, were drudged up from the deep. The fiery core of the world was exposed, and the Skizziks fed on the lifeblood of the material plane. They became larger, faster, smarter. Their society changed. No longer were the weak simply culled for lack of food. Now, the weak made up enormous armies of slave-soldiers. The strongest Skizziks stood as gods on earth, capable of snapping a steel sword like a twig and shrugging off dozens of arrows.

The changed Skizziks stood twelve feet tall, with coats of coarse fur and hides as thick as a shield. Their eyes seethed with energy, and when they opened their mouths to speak, it was like looking into an inferno. Their roar was akin to that of a dragon, and their breath was pure disease. their claws were stronger than steel and coated in venom that could kill an ox in seconds. They took their place as warlords and kings of Skizzblight, and Tharlock took his place as lord of the underworld. The rat-men toiled once more, their brightest minds creating awe-inspiring weapons and armour to be used by their kings.

The Lords of Skizzblight took to the surface, armed with blades sheathed in shimmering energy. They wore armour adorned with spike, and lightning leaped from one spike to another, arcing and charging the air with static. Their soldiers held long tubular weapons, with cables attached to a coil of metal mounted on their back. Pulling the trigger on these strange weapons caused an arc of lightning to ignite a paste within the tube, which exploded and propelled an electrified slug of metal at immense speeds.

The Great Gate Opens

The Mountains in the centre of the Galvastian continent rumbled as lightning super-heated the air and created thunder. Thunder snaps rang out repeatedly and the smell of ozone, charred flesh, and fresh blood wafted on the breeze. Tribe Possum of the Toraq fled through the foliage nearby, leaping over their traps and hoping that they might avoid the hellish projectiles of the Skizzik Teslock Rifles. Dozens of runners followed them, wielding wicked blades of plaguesteel that crackled with energy. The tesla coils on their backs gathered and generated enormous amount of energy, both magical and mundane. The coils channelled and condensed this energy into a shimmering field around the Tesla-Sabres of the Stormvermin.

Stormlord Nazaak stood on the battlements of the Great Gate, a grin of sick pleasure on his face. "Yes, flee before Skizzblight. Run, for all the good it will do you." He cackled, but the noise was swallowed up by an enormous crack of thunder as the Lightning Cannons fired another volley into the woods. Large spheres of Iron, laced with impurities and charged with energy by the Tesla Coils that the Lightning Cannons used, hurtled out of the Cannon barrels, speeding into the foliage, where the energy leaped about, desperate to be grounded. Trees, Skizziks, and Toraq alike were consumed by searing bolts of electricity. Fires sprang up, and the cannonball itself crashed into the ground, sending a spray of dirt high into the air.

"I'm glad you like my work." Tesla said, wringing his hands. The cold metal they had become so long ago when he joined the Reticulum rasped together with a ringing sound. "They're marvels aren't they? I must say I never expected my coils to be this successful. But with Clan Brighttail's Alchemical Flame-Paste, and my Electro-Magick Condenser Coils, such wonderful weapons are possible... Truly, science is wonderful!"

0 AP/0 PAP + 15 AP (3 Rollovers) + 1 PAP (Pantheon) = 15 AP/1 PAP
15 AP/1 PAP - 4 AP - 4 AP - 3 AP - 3 AP = 1 AP/ 1 PAP
4 AP - Create Fabled Life: Skazzaks - Skazzaks are huge, muscle-bound Skizziks that stand nearly eleven feet tall when hunched over. Their blood is pure energy, their skin is like stone, and their claws like steel. They have potent venom coating their claws, and they can let loose screams that could stun a dragon for a moment. Lesser beings are simply deafened as their eardrums rupture under the pressure. Skazzaks are created when a particularly large and durable Skizzik ventures into the deepest caves of Skizzblight, many dozens of miles below the earth. The heat and pressure is enormous, but those who survive the journey can drink from the exposed lifeblood of the earth itself. Those who drink this are transformed over the next days, and their need for food is reduced as magic begins to sustain them. Tharlock was the first Skazzak.
4 AP - Create Fabled Concept: Tesla Technology - Tesla Technology is a category of scientific wonders that utilize metal coils that are laced with various impurities. These coils make the ambient magical and electrical energy in the air and earth gather together in one place. As it condenses, the energy takes the form of arcs of lightning that leap from one section of coil to another. With cables insulated by an alchemical rubber, this energy can be transported and utilized.
3 AP - Create Magical Concept: Quickflame Paste - A thin cream or paste made via alchemy. It is inert in most forms, and requires a strong heat source, such as a jolt of electricity, to ignite. Once ignited the paste expands rapidly and become a hot gas. When used in large quantities, it can be used to blast through stone. In small quantities, it can be used to propel objects out of tubes.
3 AP - Gain Domain: Knowledge (Science is about 'Why Not')

4/7 - Create Tesla Technology
7/7 - Create Quickflame Paste

Naer'Va is now a Greater Deity

Eldamar

2014-07-23, 09:31 AM

The Reigning Lord of Undeath sat upon his throne and was troubled. Long have the mortal coil wighed upon his mind, bringing forth empathy that beget pity that beget mercy. Staring inwards, he gazed upon all the world through his Great Eye.

From Thralls to Masters

The Goblins of Quark, under the protection of his children have spread forth upon the water to spread across half the known world. From their Port-City of Quartuga, fleets of galleys and carracks traded and supplied half the world’s great cities and towns. Goblin settlements spread like wildfire, carried by their ships like rats until a half dozen similar port cities sprung up in Galvastia, Malagor, and Anval. In settled towns and ports, goblin communities took root. The Year of Ten Thousand Babes was well-named, for while the Gods of War and Love copulated, all the world bore their fruit. Famine was imminent in Quark and Quartuga, so the Magisters decreed they expand!

The era of secrecy was waning for the goblins of Quark, known throughout the world as the Goblins of Quartuga. In the decades following Quartuga’s founding, it became the public capital of their budding empire. On the bicentennial of Quark’s founding, the Council of Nine Magisters convened for the last time in person. Each was given a city to govern, and each held firmly a palantir, and upon the celebration of their glorious city’s founding, eight departed upon a fleet of war ships to their new territory.

Upon Anval, in the southernmost east and west corners was founded Quaram and Quaren, in Malagor a great city built beneath the rocky desert of the western coast, and two more upon the north and south ends of the great mountainous divide between the land of minotaurs and Galvastia (Quarak, Quaris, Quaros). North of Quark, nestled between the great mountains crowning the continent and the vast forests sits Quared, and finally Quarcil between Faine’s sacred mountain and the Crucible.

The advent of Goblin maritime supremacy was without its unsavory aspects. Goblin war galleys patrolled the Stormy Sea and every major ship lane, armed and crewed by the fiercest of goblin infantry and sorcerers. Their tactics were quite simple; burn everything. With foul magics of fire and death, they simple ignited any enemy ship from and continued. Water was useless against their flames and dirt was hard to find at sea.

Any who wished to be friends were welcome. Trade and profit flowed, their protection at sea was ensured, pirates were unheard of and aid was ever present (for a fee). To those who refused, however… Pirates always seemed to plague those unfortunate enough not to befriend the Goblins of Quartuga, rumor has it the Lord of Admirals himself, Magister of Quartuga was a pirate himself, but rumors are rumors…

Turning his gaze beyond the Prime Material, Mirmulnir perceives the Well of Midnight and the abandoned realm of Iskar-Ven, and the devastation therein.

An Infestation of the Well

Upon the silent departure of the Infernal Lord Iskar-Ven, the Infernalis and Fiends were leaderless and left to their own devices grew violent and quarreled. Without their god to protect them and ward the Ring of Segmentium, foul beasts crept back into the plane. Ever drawn to their favored treat, the Arachne felt drawn to the Well of Midnight and its bounty and they stood unopposed. It began slowly, tears between realms ripping apart as smaller, younger beasts crept into the fiend’s realm, preying upon the residents therein. Then came more.

After a year upon the Mortal Realm, the Well was hidden behind a labyrinth of spider thread. Dozens of broodmothers as large as dragons and thousands of their spawn spread forth throughout the Ring, devouring everything, Void Beast, Fiend, Infernalis alike. Their sheer numbers overwhelming the denizens, tearing them apart with venomous fangs and claws.

Starting AP: 9AP/1PAP
Rollover: +4AP
1AP Curse: Arachne have invaded the Well of Midnight, devouring thousands of Fiends and Infernals as well as Void Creatures. Broodmothers have made nests and their spawn are spreading, overtaking the Ring and guarding the Well.
Ending AP: 13AP

Arcran

2014-07-24, 12:08 AM

The Best Defense...

For any sort of normal cavalry a stealth mission would have been next to impossible.

Of course, Tribe Horse was no normal cavalry and Stal, son of Ien was no normal horseman, even among his people. The band was small, thirty or forty perhaps. Hardly enough to make a significant difference but more than enough to annoy their enemies.

As Stal reaches the top of the ridge he sees the pale glint of steel under the moon. The Skizzik hardly used torches but, then again, neither did Toraq save those chosen by the Flame Father.

There had been exactly two survivors from the Skizzik blitz: a lone Toraq from Tribe Stag and his Beast. They had been the warning and, well, that's about it. Horse was the only other major tribe in the area, the others scattered across the winds to who knows where? Kalux himself was nowhere to be found which seemed typical of a Toraq that would fight through trickery.

Ien had only sent Stal and his company forth on a scouting mission, to gauge the strength of their foe. Of course, Ien could never have known that they would stumble across a hostile scouting party.

With a slow motion, Stal raises his hand, his own bow appearing in his hand as he looks down as the Skizzik so far below. Could their bows even shoot that distance?

And Stal's hand drops. Arrows fired from the greatest archers on the mortal plane rain down from above, Stal soon adding his to the hail. The Toraq can only give a twisted grin as the Skizzik scouts below scurry for cover, doing their best to dodge the great spears that the Toraq call arrows. A few brave Skizzik fire back, only to be swiftly cut down, their arrows erratic and wild.

All save for one, one that strikes Stal in the shoulder.

The burn is immediate and it threatens to overcome even Stal's prodigious skill with Warlord's Wrath. A normal wound heals within a few seconds for a Pureblooded; this one feels like hours to the heir to Tribe Horse. With a grunt he rips the shaft from his shoulder, feeling instant relief as the wound finally begins to heal.

A few short minutes later and the Skizzik are dead with only three Toraq lost to the vile weapons of their foe. Of course, this had been the perfect fight. An ambush, far out of range of the Skizzik, safely tucked away on an outcropping. Future fights would never be this easy.

A few brief minutes later and Stal and his band ride away, intent on returning with news to Ien, leaving dozens of Skizzik heads on long, Blood Weapon pikes. While the Toraq do not have a written language, the intent is clear.

These aren't spec ops or anything; just regular old Skizziks that happen to be scouting.

This is our land.

Wurming Their Way In

It is a rare day when a Toraq meets a new creature and doesn't immediately come in contact; a rarer day indeed when a Toraq who has lost his beast has not.

And so, Gillard the Great leapt from the ground, barely coming in contact with the great wurm. As his hand drifts across the tough hide of the beast his heart stops, then beats anew, faster and harder.

With a sudden burst of strength Gillard pulls himself up on to the wurm, slowly climbing towards Zahav.

"I will join," Gillard says, flashing a grin of golden teeth.

From below, Shalee shouts up, her voice barely carrying to the height.

"We shall ride below, but we are yours as well until our Blood Father calls for our aid!"

A Proud and Ancient Race

Hour upon hour, day after day, week after week and year after year the minotaur battled one another, each Tribe smashing the others nearly into the ground. And yet, each and every time the tribes would slowly rebuild but at a cost. For each time the minotaur rebuilt they became less a civilization and more a collection of loose tribes. The first time they rebuilt they remained almost at their former glory. The second, far less. By the fourth rebuilding the minotaurs hardly resembled their former glory.

And, with the loss of society, came the loss of magic. Whereas in the first years of the war there was fire and stone and flood, now there was only the sounds of axes bashing against the other minotaur.

And The Red Gem was content.

And Still It Grows...

Atleon placed another brick, looking at her thick and calloused hands. Long ago they had bled with each stone but now? Now they were used to the work.

She was pregnant again, but Atleon was almost always such. 2,194 children with perhaps another twelve on the way.

A Loitering Child

Half a world away, The Child sits upon a stone in Malagor, watching the minotaur savages buffet one another with massive axes. As weak and pitiful as magic was they had been far more interesting to watch. Now they just slammed into one another; no finesse, no skill, just brute strength and basic savagery. Even the initial Toraq had possessed more skill in arms. Still, The Child can't help but feel a small amount of pride. This was his fault, after all.

Soon enough, one Tribe emerges victorious over the other. Without their magics The Child can hardly discern which side is which. Vitri said she could, but The Child figured she was lying. Usually he could tell but sometimes the Beast was more subtle than she would seem initially.

With a heavy thud The Child leaps from his perch, his iron bones not even feeling the landing. Vitri soon follows, far more gracefully, gliding in elegantly.

"Dumb beast," The Child says, his axe appearing in his hand as he smashes it into the head of a minotaur still squirming on the ground, a gleeful laugh escaping his lips.

And then something odd happened.

The minotaur's blood, rather than spraying through the air, glides up the axe's length, forming intricate chains with each and every step, ending with a secondary handle with a nasty spike. Not only that, but The Child feels something flow into his axe. Had he been his father, he would have known that the energy of the minotaur conflict become his own, that his axe had been bathed in yet another war. Galvastia had forged it anew, but here? This was where the axe was tempered, refined.

The Child let the chain out a few links, slowly spinning the axe, a wide grin crossing his face as it whistles through the air, razor edge seemingly slashing through the air itself. With hardly a movement The Child lets the chain run out, the axe flying through the air, easily cleaving a boulder twice The Child's size in twain.

And The Child laughed.

A God Above

And, all above, Artoran watches and waits, preparing for the next step for his children. One that required an old friend of his.

"KERETH!"

5 AP + 7 (Rollover) + 1 (PAP)

Create Artifact: The Chained Blade - 3 AP, 1 PAP
Infuse The Chained Blade (https://ancientsofthevoid.obsidianportal.com/wikis/the-chained-blade)

Red Gem Curse Charge: Dumbing of Malagor (https://ancientsofthevoid.obsidianportal.com/wikis/the-red-gem)
Sir Oinksalot Charge: Tribe Wurm (https://ancientsofthevoid.obsidianportal.com/wikis/Wurm%20Tribe/new)

7 AP remaining.

Eldamar

2014-07-24, 01:16 AM

A Prophecy Fulfilled
Malagor

Chief Hamuul’s visions of the Celestial Wyrm were concrete. The Heavenly Drake spoke to him in whispers, speaking to him of divine mysteries and ancient lore beyond the knowledge the spirits of the earth could possible know. Each night, the Starlight Dragon grew larger and more detailed, and each night his lessons deepened. Days became weeks, weeks became months, months became years. And as he learned, so did the monks and shaman of his tribe.

High in the mountains, their life was of solidarity and isolation, peaceful and enlightened unlike their lowland brethren. But the Silver Dragon gave him sight beyond their lonely mountains, and he beheld the strife beyond. War had come to Malagor, an event unheard of. Tribe slaying tribe, brother killing brother. Their wisdom sapped by bloodlust and rage and knowledge sundered.

This shall not stand.

The tribe was hesitant to learn these new magics, their conservatism to the spirits of the world, and especially of the wind, was ingrained and difficult to break, but their Chieftain relieved their worries. The old ways were not to be abandoned, but new knowledge and wisdom brought forth, scryed from the highest of celestial beings. And upon the final night of the year, Hamuul perceived the Silver Dragon as flesh and when his mind returned to his body, the Temple Doors were blocked by the shining figure of Azrathuul.

Thus began the Instruction, when the Minotaurs of the Air Tribe through their Dragon-God learned the deep secrets of magic, refined and focused, preserving the ancient wisdom of their people while learning the ancient secrets of their new patron. Untouched by war in their mountain temples and villages, the Cult spreads, carving new cities and temples deeper, and delving into stone for the first time. A hidden bastion.

An Excerpt from the Glories of the Dead by Hamuul.

Blessed are the Honored Dead, spirits set free from the Mortal Coil, their troubles cleansed by Starlight and set to wander in peace beyond the Veil. Their Wisdom recorded by the Black Serpent Mirnultar in the Book of Death, their spirits guarded by the Gold Drake Kir’kreth atop his Divine Mount. Honor the spirits, and preserve the flesh, for the Dragons have blessed us with this Dead Knowledge. While the Spirit departs, the Flesh remains, and to call back the Dead to defend the Living is Sacred. To abuse this knowledge is sacrilege, and requires penitence.

Starting AP: 13AP
1AP Blessing: The Wyrm Cult escapes the Red Gem's destructive influence by way of isolation within the mountains.
Ending AP: 12

Shmee

2014-07-24, 03:52 AM

Akora thinks on the advice of the older goddess on how to court her own father, wondering if it would be a good path for her to pursue. She then tries to tuck the idea side when she was asked more about Mirmulnir. "I am truly sorry, but as you already know Mirmulnir values his secrecy and since I hold him in such high respect, there is little to nothing I can tell you about him. perhaps I could try to arrange a meeting with him at some point, so you may get to know him personally?"

"There is no need to do that, for I require a different favor from you, one that involves your ability as the Matron of Truth. For you see my dear brother is currently less than emotionally stable, and I believe that what he needs is a measure of stability, and I know just the way. Before my ascension from the earth, I personally lead the Elven army on its legendary march across the Anval desert to Klein. When we arrived at the land-bridge connecting the two continents, someone tried to cause a catastrophe by sinking it. Now then... as I was there I know that there was divine intervention involved, and yet Mekhet insists that it was his fault and that he almost accidentally drowned his sister... something that I refuse to believe despite his instance."

"So then... what I want you to do, take Mekhet with you, and together discover the true perpetrator behind the sinking of the land-bridge. Find the truth and clear Mekhet's name, and then what you two do with that truth is no concern of mine, but at least it will convince my dear brother that even if he doesn't believe in himself, he has a sister that does. If you do not want to do this favor for me, then do it for Makhet's sake... considering you seen well inclined towards him."

Dragonsage

2014-07-25, 04:01 AM

"There is no need to do that, for I require a different favor from you, one that involves your ability as the Matron of Truth. For you see my dear brother is currently less than emotionally stable, and I believe that what he needs is a measure of stability, and I know just the way. Before my ascension from the earth, I personally lead the Elven army on its legendary march across the Anval desert to Klein. When we arrived at the land-bridge connecting the two continents, someone tried to cause a catastrophe by sinking it. Now then... as I was there I know that there was divine intervention involved, and yet Mekhet insists that it was his fault and that he almost accidentally drowned his sister... something that I refuse to believe despite his instance."

"So then... what I want you to do, take Mekhet with you, and together discover the true perpetrator behind the sinking of the land-bridge. Find the truth and clear Mekhet's name, and then what you two do with that truth is no concern of mine, but at least it will convince my dear brother that even if he doesn't believe in himself, he has a sister that does. If you do not want to do this favor for me, then do it for Makhet's sake... considering you seen well inclined towards him."

Kar'Sol
Mekhet smiles before his eyes widen, and his face droops again.
"I think...I think our family dwindles again, Kar."
He looks to the lands below, thinking.
"I believe...yes, I believe it is time the dead gods were given acknowledgement..."
This would take a while...

Vrykin Lands
The zephyr wander about as Ankora talks, apparently easily distracted until the goddess addresses them. They look to each other, winds changing pacing, before one forms and shrugs. Her currents sound like a happy summer breeze as they waft by.
"Explore the world, see what's cool, poke things? Papa Mekhet lets us choose our own destiny, but wished to let our mom see the world. We're going to continue that."

~Sleepless in the Sun~

"Very well then. I shall seek out the truth behind the event you described." Akora nodded to the Sun goddess as she accepted the request before turning towards Mekhet. "Shall we then, Mekhet?" It was a great opportunity to talk with the god and try to ease his suffering.

~Words into the wind~

The goddess chuckled at the child-like innocents the Zephyrs seemed to possess. "That sounds fun." She looked over her shoulder at the furies for a moment before continuing. "I have actually been thinking of looking for a lasting home for my children so that they would be safer. In your journey have you seen a place?"

Toxic Mind

2014-07-26, 11:29 AM

The Void

Kereth heard the call. So long he had wondered if he was truly alone, if his love had departed from him, that it caught the god by surprise, the spiritual malaise that had afflicted him slid from his shoulders like a weighty cloak. The Kereth in the Tree answered. "Come and Speak. I watch the Titans below."

The Fields

Kereth threw his arms around Naer'Va as she reappeared. I had thought you lost. He said, tears of joy on his face. I found myself adrift for so long.

Arcran

2014-07-26, 12:19 PM

Lazy Gods

"Bah!" Artoran shouts, comfortable upon his red throne. "You need to come here Kereth! I'll let you in to my home just this once."

Toxic Mind

2014-07-26, 12:40 PM

But Its So Faarrrr

Kereth sighs, and shifts himself to the Red Moon. "Asking for help AND inviting me into your home? Careful Artoran, people might think you're getting soft in your old age." There is laughter in Kereth's voice as he says it, as Artoran is no older than he is.

Arcran

2014-07-26, 01:06 PM

Grumpy Old Men

"I didn't ask for help," Artoran snarls, clearly angered by that prospect.

"No, I am here to claim what you promised long ago. You promised the souls of my worshipers to me, to use as I will when I have created a home for them," the War God says, his face a great grin.

"Here's the home!"

"Now where are my souls?"

Eshkigal

2014-07-26, 01:47 PM

Soul Fields
A surprised and much happier Mekhet curls around Naer'Va.
"By us I thought you had gone silent. Our family's already far smaller than it should be these days..."

Kar'Sol
Even as Mekhet seems to rise into better spirits, he nods.
"I believe we shall."
He wraps pseudopod under arm, gets a strange, tall hat from somewhere, and nods.
"Now be sure to remember to visit, Kar! Also to kick out a pretender titan to your throne. The titan of dreams and lust hides in the branches, and I know you broach no pretenders."
With that, Mekhet tips his tophat and winks out, likely followed by Ankora.

Vrykin Lands
The land below shudders and rises, before the undersea mountain range rises to the surface. The Primal Lands see sky for the first time, as zephyr, fury, and goddess gape at the sudden change. Eventually, one of the zephyr points that way.
"That's new, but maybe it's good!"

11/15 AP
1 AP: Alter Land: Primal Lands are now the Primal Landbridge, the kobold population remaining after Iskar's death not noticing the change. Mostly because I wanted the dinosaurs to be more widespread and because it's there.
10/15 AP remaining

The Minotaur Wars
Even as the Child watches, he sees something odd happen. Not only do the minotaurs develop better blades and hammers as they fight, not only do they become better warriors WITHOUT him, which was an oddity, but they seem to have their flesh warp and writhe as they mutate randomly, their primal fury gaining form in their own bodies. Soon, rather than what steers he had seen wage bloody conflict before, titans of flesh made into terrible weaponry and armor roared their greed for the Gem upon the lands. But did he laugh?

10/15 AP
1-Basic Concept Weaponry bought, given to everyone who doesn't have it yet because...well, c'mon. We've had trade for ages. It's about time.
Magic Concept: Fleshwarping given to the Minotaurs.
Create Fabled Concept (4 AP): Warshaping. Fleshwarping and transmutation magic used in conjunction have given way to bio organic monstrosities of war whose flesh is sturdier than the heaviest armor, blades as sharp as the Blood Weapons, and ranged conflict through launched barbs, acid spit, webbing, anything nasty and terrible you can think of as an organic weapon, it is in use. Given to the Minotaurs, Merfolk, Ooze Crabs, and will later be given to the Brighttails.
5/15 AP remain

Maruk
Meanwhile, the Maruk had been bathed in the energies of his father for countless eons, strange and otherwise. In this time he had grown new power, and today it manifested as he became more than the mortal he was before. For today...Today Maruk became one of the elite.
Today Maruk became a Hero.

6/15 AP
Raise Hero: 4 AP. Maruk is the eldest of Mekhet's creations, and by far the most powerful mortal creature. He alters weather by walking through it, shapes the land with little effort, and has great power as a mortal. This is just an acknowledgement.
1/15 AP left.

Toxic Mind

2014-07-26, 01:53 PM

That's no Moon

"They are not playthings. They are kept here by you because to be so near their god gives them joy. That is all. Now help me stabilize the portal so that souls may travel from the Fields to here." With a wave, Kereth raises a circle from the surface of the moon. Built of metal and weapons melted together, it is a suitable gate for the souls of those that worship war. As Kereth pours his own energy into it, a sheen of red materializes, though without Artoran, it will not solidify.

Arcran

2014-07-26, 02:08 PM

Welcome Home Wayward Sons

With an anticipatory grin on his face, Artoran slides Drinker across his palm, flicking the drops of blood towards the portal his aid.

"Everything is a plaything, should you try hard enough Kereth," Artoran states, a lopsided grin on his face.

Eshkigal

2014-07-26, 04:01 PM

"Realm of Chaos"
Meanwhile, on long forgotten lands, wargs, dwarves, and nephilim have been isolated from other races for many ages now, and this has led to strange compulsions among them. One such compulsion was the mingling of lines between the three races out of desperation in the avoidance of inbreeding, sometimes willing, sometimes not. Today, it turns out that the first successful attempt would be born, a cross of warg and dwarf resulting in something unsettling but alive, a mix of Wolfman and dwarf with no rhyme nor reason. However, it is not the important birth. It is merely the first of many hybrids to be born in this newfound age of fertility...

1 AP
Bless: Cross compatible (1 AP). Due to constant exposure to deific meddling, transformative magic, and the Chaos inherent in the workings of the multiverse now, every species can successfully breed with every other species, though the end result isn't always pretty. Other gods have mercy on the worlds across the realms, for none shall be found here. And when I say anything, I mean anything. Expect some monstrous races later.
0 AP left

Dragonsage

2014-07-26, 10:11 PM

Kar'Sol
Even as Mekhet seems to rise into better spirits, he nods.
"I believe we shall."
He wraps pseudopod under arm, gets a strange, tall hat from somewhere, and nods.
"Now be sure to remember to visit, Kar! Also to kick out a pretender titan to your throne. The titan of dreams and lust hides in the branches, and I know you broach no pretenders."
With that, Mekhet tips his tophat and winks out, likely followed by Ankora.

Vrykin Lands
The land below shudders and rises, before the undersea mountain range rises to the surface. The Primal Lands see sky for the first time, as zephyr, fury, and goddess gape at the sudden change. Eventually, one of the zephyr points that way.
"That's new, but maybe it's good!"

11/15 AP
1 AP: Alter Land: Primal Lands are now the Primal Landbridge, the kobold population remaining after Iskar's death not noticing the change. Mostly because I wanted the dinosaurs to be more widespread and because it's there.
10/15 AP remaining

~Leaving the Sun~

Akora watches in puzzlement as Mekhet pull the hat from nowhere as he prepares to leave. "I'll take my leave, as well. Until we meet again." She gave a polite nod to the goddess before following Mekhet.

On the way out while following the chaos god, Akora sends a shard of herself to her moon.

~The new land~
The lunar goddess stared in amaze as the new land rose from the sea before finally speaking. "Yes perhaps it will do." She turned towards the furies and ordered most to head towards the Vrykin settlements and join up with them while ordering the remainder to stay and explore this new land for a while.

"Will you join me in exploring this new land, could be some interesting things there?" She turned to the Zephyrs again.

~A overdue visit~
Akora arrives on her lunar plane and takes a deep breath as she looks around the moon's surface. She felt perfectly natural there, as she wandered through her own domain.

~Rise of the Truth seekers~
Meanwhile, in the Vrykin settlements, Akora and Loren bare witness to the arrival of the furies as well of a large gathering of women from both races. With the joining of the two races, the matron of truth has decided an appropriate reward to mark the event by giving a chosen few an insight that will aid them in a fight against lies. Young Loren is among these chosen ones.

15/15 AP - 3= 12AP
1 ap: Blessing: natural lie detectors: Out of the female population of Akora's Waifs, 1 out of 10 women now possess the ability detect lies via use of a sixth sense when talking to someone. In addition, 1 out 5 female offspring of Akora's waifs are now born with this ability.

2AP:Form Organization: Truth seekers: With the advent of the ability to detect lies from others, these women have organized themselves into an order devoted to revealing truth where ever possible. Most have trained to honed their skills in combat for self defense, at the very least, for when their duty calls them to dangerous scenarios. These members of the organization essentially function as detectives for the order, while others can serve the role of confessionals or even a neutral party judge in some matters. One can easily identity them with by their blue and silver Kimono uniforms.

Eshkigal

2014-07-26, 11:39 PM

Halcua-crabs

"He did indeed, though one race was an accident. As for building, I think I might need to do some thinking about this. Halcua is limited in its size, and the lands away from it are not as suited for them."

Well, that falls under certainly strange. There's quite a difference between an Ut'Gal and one of these merfolk, which means when the merfolk start changing, the kobolds run away. The Ut'Gal themselves are a bit alarmed, but since their god is right there, they believe that this should be fine.

Halcua-tribunal

The three speakers of the races of Halcua looks at their guests. A group similar to that of the Toraq, but more gentle is one, the elderly Ut'Gal thinks. A group of large monsters, but sent to teach our brothers, thinks the kobold. And both groups asking for the same privilege, thinks the healer.

"You have come here to be judged worthy of being at this sacred place." The Ut'Gal matron speaks.
"Why do you think yourselves worthy of this, visitors to Mount Halcua?" Asks the healer, born of the Toraq.

Faines scarves pause, then flare out around him as he smiles at the crabs.

"Yes. That is a fine idea. I'll set up a few new volcanos, expand the forest I created, and then my peoples and yours can have more land to call their own. Yes, the children of my friend deserve more land, just like those of mine do."

In fact, Faines has gotten started on that. North of the Forest of Naurbrethil, a new volcano rises up, to fix the stage for an Ut'Gal expansion in the future.

Alter land -1 AP. Ending AP 15AP +1PP

Kleiners
The group looks to one another, before the robed man slowly steps up.
"We travel far from our homeland to meet you, our brothers and sisters upon this realm. We come from the city of Inspiration, the city of Klein. We seek to share our knowledge with you, and learn of yours in turn. We seek to give the great gifts of the Sciences, of Math, mapmaking, navigation! We seek to open trade with you, share a wealth the likes of which has never been known, form a grand world all our people can enjoy! We come not to beg, but to share! Brothers, sisters...will you share with us? Will you become greater with us?"

Crabs

The crabs nod, and look to Faines.
"'Ey, that's pretty woppin' cool. Any chance ya can make us ableta go inta the molten rock? We can go through da ooze, but we ain't fireproof. Mebbe we can make things even more interestin'."

ThePhantom

2014-07-27, 11:10 AM

Kleiners

The tribunal thinks at this speech, there have been benefits to the things of a new race, after all, the Toraq has been helpful. In the crowd, Faines watches quietly, his nature hidden to all except maybe the truth speaker of this group.

"You speak of things of which we have no knowledge. Would those things truly benefit us?"
"If this is to be a trade, would you sing our songs, as the god of this place wishes?"
"hmmmmm."

The tribunals thinks, there could be indeed benefits here, but perhaps not the right respect for their ways.

Crabs

Faines's scarves reach out and picks up one of the crabs, bringing it to his eye level.

"I could do such a thing. But are you prepared for what that would mean? There are only beings of my creation that are immune to the flames. What are you willing to endure to handle such a change, for it will hurt. The fire must burn what it changes."

HalfTangible

2014-07-29, 12:35 AM

"If that's what you want, then perhaps you could use my help. I know more of this world than you do, and music has a way of reaching people. If we work together, there will be benefits for both of us."

One of Faines' scarves reaches out to the younger god, as if it was a hand outstretched to him.

"... Really? Is that your best offer?" The slave god's eyes glazed over with boredom. "I don't particularly care what you have if you're going to make your powers and skills so vague."

7/19
7/26
11+8
Brings me back to 15 AP

ThePhantom

2014-07-29, 11:39 AM

Elven Palace

"Then you would care for a demonstration? "

Faines flicks up a small ball of flame to float above one of his fingers. He gives a bit of spin, and it starts emitting a musical sound. In a moment, the elves nearby are attracted to the room, in a trance state.

"I think you could use a way to bring slaves to you without having to hunt them down, correct?"

Create Magical Concept AP 3 - Fire Song, Using a fire as the base to channel the music, different affects can be created, through most are just emotion base, making a crowd braver or increasing the desire to stare at the flames for hours to the point where it can't be resisted. The quality of the change depends on how powerful the use of this magic is.

DoctorGlock

2014-08-04, 11:34 AM

Wurming Their Way In

It is a rare day when a Toraq meets a new creature and doesn't immediately come in contact; a rarer day indeed when a Toraq who has lost his beast has not.

And so, Gillard the Great leapt from the ground, barely coming in contact with the great wurm. As his hand drifts across the tough hide of the beast his heart stops, then beats anew, faster and harder.

With a sudden burst of strength Gillard pulls himself up on to the wurm, slowly climbing towards Zahav.

"I will join," Gillard says, flashing a grin of golden teeth.

From below, Shalee shouts up, her voice barely carrying to the height.

"We shall ride below, but we are yours as well until our Blood Father calls for our aid!"

[3 rollovers, 4 days till poof unless i post this, 12 AP total]

The bank had to be non partisan. But at the same time it had to catch on as an idea. Theoretically if it was the right war they could suit up and head out without and repercussions, grab some publicity and start raking in cash from the grateful people of the world. But only towards the beginning.

The war bonds idea seemed good. Sell compound interest and inflation, pay people with dividends and still net a profit while technically helping a side. And not being involved enough to trigger controversy. hat was a thought. Heck, take a war situation and we can offer special rate loans and make profits hand over foot on bulk alone! Then we can still be helping. And he was planning on getting some humans for the bank too, people without the ideological baggage and prior attachments.

Or he could diversify. Branch banks. Centralized bank here sets the inflation rates and values, branch banks rake in the interest... then those branches could have any affiliation so long as the money flowed. Yes, that sounded right.

Zahav's hand flew over the contraption they were assembling from golden wires and crystalline arrays. Then there was the other pet project. He was going to mass produce this crap, put a mirror in every house. Instantaneous communications. This was going to change the world. And cheaply! None of this specialized artisan production crap. Just lines of unskilled laborers each doing a single stage in the production. But then he'd need content to broadcast...

One thing at a time. On the horizon he could see the walls of Verenzanno drawing closer. A meeting with the resident god and then he could set up shop. And profit. Lets finish that little snag first.

Zahav liked Gillard. The guy had that decisive manner that translates into good business sense. No dallying. Up here from the back of the landwurm it seemed like he'd be a good sounding board for some ideas.

"So tell me about this war calling Shalee mentioned? When do you and your folks got to scarper out and make war and what are the technicalities here? Because in the money business, technicalities are everything."

Acts expenditure (all closed concepts unless otherwise stated)
create concept: replaceable parts
Create concept: assembly line
Create concept: manufacturing
create concept: Mass media
Create concept: Inflation
Create concept: Central Banking
Create Concept: Advertising
Gain Domain: Media
12-10=2

Eshkigal

2014-08-04, 08:16 PM

(Sadly, this game seems to be growing ever more quiet. So let's go nuts and aim for a grand world to make a setting)

As Mekhet and Akora descend to the back of the Maruk, the giant crab gets bestowed with his greatest ability-the ability to make life, even as the corpse of Yooo and the other Maruk are carefully lowered upon him, crafting a spire into the heavens guarded by the tinier Maruk. From the Maruk, energy arced out across the realm, infesting those who practiced Warshaping, causing their forms to shift even further, their lines separating from what they started as. Soon, hundreds, maybe thousands, of different races diverge, monsters that roam the land and either ignore, assist, or ravage the lands as they see fit.

4 AP
Craft Relic-Mountain of Life. The Maruk is now home to the remains of Yooo, in the form of a crystalline mountain that gives rise to creatures of strange power (so create monstrous life). Speaking of which!
Create Monstrous Life (PokeI mean the Myriad, yeah, that's it. The Myriad)-the warshapers have grown into unique beasts that keep mixing and giving birth to even more new races. Each is effectively parent to its own race, with own traits, and some day it will solidify into something consistent...)
0 AP

Mt. Halcua-Kleiners
The Kleiners look directly to the tribunal.
"That we would, and we would find ways to make the land and skies sing them as well. Even now, there are dreams of steel containing fire that sings that our people seek to bring to existence. We could use your help there, and could in turn give other knowledge as well, and together we can build a land unlike any we have dreamed of apart."

Crab people, crab people, look like crab, act like people...
"We are tha children o' change an' chaos. Our nature is ta seek othas, an' so we seek change here an' now."

Dragonsage

2014-08-05, 12:35 AM

~Loren's rising~
In the time since the gathering of the truth seekers, Loren has been training hard to meet the physical and mental demands of the order all while her goddess of her mother looked upon her with pride. Which was more than enough motivation for the child to keep pushing herself in her training so that she could continue to make her mother proud, but motivation alone can only get one so far.

When the child returned home from a full night of training, aching and exhausted, she marched up the the piles of pelts that made up her bed and passed out. Meanwhile, Akora approached her daughter as she slept peacefully and, with some gentle stroking of the girl's hair, gave a small shard of herself into the girl. "Loren, no mater what you do in life. I shall always be with you." She then kissed the young heroine before returning her mind to the tasks at hand.

~Steampunk revolution and beast capturing~
Deep into the night a dedicated group of Vrykin and furries have formed a think tank to help improve upon their society and eventually the world. A small group has turned towards the path of technology, using what is available to them to create simple yet elegantly complex machinery.

While the other group has turned their focus to solving a problem with the advent of these Myriads. They're solution is a magic that allows them to seal these monstrous beasts into small stones that allow for easy transport and possible taming.

~The lady on the moon~
After she was done exploring her domain, Akora takes a moment to sit and wonder if there was something missing from her new home. In mere moments she had her answer and began to gather her power and focus it into an orb and with it's creation it filled the plane with an energy that the goddess felt was previously lacking. "There will be no lies here."

In time she decided to send her yet another shard of herself to return to the forge of sparks so that she may rendezvous with her family.

~A giant case of crab~
As the two gods descended onto the back of the crab, Akora pondered how to relieve the pain of loss Mekhet had recently felt. Perhaps and opprotunity shall present itself when as the two investigated together. "So, this land bridge? Your sister seems to be dead set in believing that you didn't cause its collapse but you appear to be all too accepting of the guilt. So my lord, tell me, if she correct in her belief why would you shoulder such blame?"

Create Advanced Concept: Steam punk 2 ap
Test tubes and Tesla coils, clockwork brain 'n' glowing oils, copper, brass, explosive jelly.

Raise Hero: Loren 4 AP
Akora's adopted mortal daughter has now been blessed and infused with a shard of the lunar goddess' power. Along with her training with the truth seekers, she has been set on a path for glory.

Create (closed) Magical Concept: Capture stone AP 3
Akora's Waifs have now developed a magic to help tame the world's monstrous beasts, particularly the Myriads, by using a sealing magic carved unto stones that allow users to catch the beasts. Supposedly they're bigger on the inside.

Craft relic: Orb of Truth 4 AP
Akora has crafted for herself a crystalized ball, which projects a truth field through out her Lunar plane which prevents anyone from speaking falsely while they're in the realm.

Create lesser concept: Mother's day 1 AP
it's mother's day, kinda self explanatory