Pan-aeons: a God Game

[Garjel_blah]

https://media.discordapp.net/attachments/388615688715239434/648892311694082049/Cool20Text20-20Pan-aeons20342540846013881.png

It’s a fact of life that the universe tends towards disorder. That which is built will eventually break down. Structures crumble, fires burn, and in the end we’re left with naught but dust and ash. Chaos will someday make dust and ash of all creation.

However, “all creation” is a big place, and “someday” is still a long way off. In one galaxy, a planet orbiting a star much like our own deviates from the norm. Once an unstable world wracked by cataclysms and aimless change, it one day found itself mellowing, stabilising. Where once chaos reigned, order arose. Life flourished, complex and diverse. Over many aeons it strove, compelled by its nature to defy the odds.

From life emerged the most complex, yet in some way simplest expression of order - the soul. And from the soul came the gods, aspects of the sentient life and civilisation, each unique and near limitless in potential. Yet even they are fragile in a universe hell bent upon chaos. What will they do with the time that’s given to them?

Pan-aeons is a role-playing game, set in a fantasy world from the stone age onwards, where you take on the role of one of these gods. What you do is up to you, the world is your sandbox! As long as you remember that you’ll be sharing it with an entire pantheon of other gods, all vying for the worship of the mortal population.

There’s a great deal of freedom in the design and character of your deity, but the most important thing to decide upon is their domains and their weakness.
First and foremost, your god needs either one or two domains, which is the concept or thing that your god is a god of. The Grim Reaper, for instance, would have a domain in death. Zeus might have a thunder domain. Cthulhu could have dual domains in madness and the ocean. As the game progresses you may be able to acquire more domains, but to start with there will be a limit of two.
Your god also needs a weakness. This can be the diametric opposite of your god’s domain, such as say life being the Grim Reaper’s weakness, but could also be some character flaw or inability that limits your god. Zeus might have a weakness in loyalty, due to his tendency to adulterate with mortals behind Hera’s back, and Cthulhu’s obvious weakness would be drowsiness, since he’s always slumbering and dreaming.
In game mechanics, your domains and weaknesses give modifiers for actions, making you better at actions that fall within your purview as a god, and worse at those that your weakness limits. A single domain god receives a +4 modifier, while a dual domain god received two +2 modifiers. Weaknesses give you a -2 modifier. Based on this, we can write our three example gods as:

Death (+4 Death, -2 Life)

Zeus (+4 Thunder, -2 Loyalty)

Cthulhu (+2 Madness, +2 Ocean, -2 Slumber)

This is basically what you need to decide upon for your god. Things such as personality and the appearance of your god’s main avatar are valuable flavour as well, and should probably reflect your chosen domains and weaknesses.

In this god game RP, the writing and characterisation are the most important elements of play. However, to make things interesting, some gameplay mechanics have been designed. They’re based on an old RP I was in called Brave New World, which I had a great deal of fun with. I’ve tried my best to remember the rules from that game, and have made a few adjustments that will hopefully open up more options. Here’s the end result...

The game is divided up into ages, which are further divided into turns, and every turn the player gods each get to do two things; a divine action, and reactions to other gods’ divine actions. The number of turns per age depends on how quickly the players expend their AP.

Actions
A list of the available divine actions is given below, and you’ll find that they’re divided up into different tiers based on action points (AP), difficulty check (DC), and detectable/undetectable.
AP is a limited resource that gods expend to do actions. The AP listed for each action is how much that action costs to perform, with more powerful actions requiring more AP. Each god starts an age with full AP, and can do actions every turn until they run out.
DC is the threshold above which a god needs to roll (1d20, done by the GM) to succeed with their action. The DC listed for each action gives the action’s threshold, which more powerful actions having a higher threshold. If appropriate, gods may modify their rolls with their domains/weaknesses, to decrease/increase this threshold.
The detectability of an action determines which other player gods can react to your action. Detectable actions can be sensed by all other gods no matter where they are or what they’re doing, meaning that all gods may perform a reaction. Undetectable actions cannot be sensed by other gods, unless they have been specifically informed that the action is happened or are directly observing it take place, in which case only they may make a reaction.

Reactions
Reactions differ from actions in that they cost no AP, have no DC, and may be done as many times as a player wishes every turn. All that’s required is that another god has performed an action that your god can detect, and you may perform a reaction to that action. There are two types of reaction; help, and hinder.
Helping reactions allow you to subtract your domain modifiers from the god’s action DC, increasing the chance of success. In addition, you get to describe some way in which your help impacts on the result of the action, such as an additional affect or greater scope. Be creative, but try not to do anything that would spoil the action, since you are supposed to be helping.
Hindering reactions, on the other hand, allow you to add your domain modifiers to the god’s action DC, increasing the chance of failure. In the event that the action succeeds regardless of your hindrance, you still get to suggest some way that your hindrance impacts on the result of the action.
Note that while you may describe how your reaction affects the outcome of an action, the GM will decide how the action ends up being resolved, since there may be multiple contradictory reactions to take into account.

Let’s say that Zeus (+4 Thunder, -2 Loyalty) has 20 AP and decides to make the demigod Perseus (+2 Heroism and an as of yet unspecified -2 weakness) on his turn. From the action list, this action costs 18 AP and has 14 DC, so he’ll be left with 2 AP and has to roll above 14 to succeed in making his demigod. In the fluff he’s going to do this by showering a virgin with heavenly gold to make her pregnant with the baby demigod, which is sort of like lightning and is definitely not loyal to Hera, so he gets a +4 Thunder modifier to his roll. Now he just needs to roll above 10.

However, getting above 10 isn’t great odds, so Zeus goes to his fellow god Death to ask for help. Death agrees, lending his +4 in the death domain to Zeus’ roll. He justifies this by blessing Perseus’ mother with a non-fatal pregnancy, ensuring that the newborn demigod has a mortal family to care for him. He’ll also use a religious artefact that he made earlier, a Reaper’s Scythe with +2 in the spirit domain, to add a further +2 to make a modifier of +6. However, since the action is ultimately above giving life to a baby, Death’s -2 Life weakness also comes into play. His total contribution is therefore only +4, setting the new DC threshold at 6.

This still is not the end of it though, because creating a demigod is a detectable action, which means that Cthulhu is allowed to react. And since Cthulhu is a prick, he’s going to hinder. He’ll do this by telepathically cursing Perseus with nightmarish dreams of the depths, invoking both his +2 Madness and +2 Ocean domains. This doesn’t invoke his -2 slumbering weakness because he’s specifically acting through dreams. Now the DC threshold is at 10, which is back where Zeus started. Death's help and Cthulhu's hindrances just happened to balance each other out.

If the roll were to fail by scoring 10 or less, then Perseus would be stillborn (though the mother would at least be ensured survival by Death’s help). If the roll were to succeed by scoring above 12, then Perseus would be born as a demigod with +2 Heroism as specified by Zeus’ player, and -2 Water as determined by the GM based on Cthulhu’s hindrances.

This should give you an idea about how divine actions works in this god game


Undetectable actions

Free/Instant: manifest avatar, teleport avatar, shapeshift avatar, interact with the world, perform inconsequential/non-divine magic, attempt to remotely contact other gods - general fluff and flavour basically.

1 AP/0 DC: influence one mortal (significantly alter the course of their life by compelling them to action, altering their body, killing them, etc.), scry one object or living creature (allows you to detect undetectable actions that happen within your scry, lasts until your next action or the end of the age).

2 AP/1 DC: influence a small group of mortals (~10), influence a small landmark or room, scry a small landmark or room, change the weather in a village-sized area.

4 AP/2 DC: influence a large group of mortals (~100), influence a large landmark or building, scry a large landmark or building.

6 AP/3 DC: influence a village of mortals (~1000), influence a village-sized area, scry a village-sized area, change the weather in a city-sized area.

8 AP/4 DC: change the weather in a state-sized area, create a basic living species (plant, fungus, micro-organisms), create a basic non-living substance.

10 AP/6 DC: influence a town of mortals (~10k), influence a town-sized area, scry a town-sized area, create an animal species, create one or a collection of lesser magical items (easy to both use and destroy, such as a magic carpet, health potion, invisibility cloak, etc.).

12 AP/8 DC: influence a city of mortals (~100k), influence a city-sized area, scry a city-sized area, create a collection of lesser magical minions (should be a reasonable match for most mortals, such as hellhounds, cherubs, horse-mounted Nazgul, etc.), immortalise a living creature or mortal, create a pocket dimension (must be bounded and unable to hold a population), reincarnate a mortal demigod.

14 AP/10 DC: influence one immortal, scry a state-sized area, create a single greater magical monster (should be challenging for even the best mortals to slay, such as a dragon, gorgon, fell beast-mounted Witch King, etc.), create a greater magical item (requires understanding of magic to use or destroy, such as a phylactery, enchanted weapons and armour, crystal ball, etc.), sanctify an area for +2 (max 4 per god).

Detectable actions

16 AP/12 DC: influence a state of mortals (~1M) or a small group of immortals (~10), influence a state-sized area, scry a country-sized area, induce a celestial phenomenon (comet, eclipse, aurora, etc.), create a sentient species, create a +2 domain religious artefact (max 3 per god).

18 AP/14 DC: influence a country of mortals (~10M), influence a country-sized area, scry a continent-sized area, create a plane of reality (can be unbounded and capable of sustaining a population), create a +2 domain/-2 weakness demigod (max 2 per god).

20 AP/16 DC: influence a continent of mortals (~100M), influence a continent-sized area, scry the entire planet, create a law of reality (such as a system of magic for mortals to use, or an objective morality), create a supernaturally gifted sentient species, assign a chosen people for +2 (1 per god).

22 AP/18 DC: influence every mortal on the planet, influence the entire planet, despoil a +2 sanctified area.

24 AP/20 DC: destroy a +2 artefact, confer a -2 weakness to a demigod, banish a god for a turn, announce a prophesy.

30 AP/24 DC: destroy a demigod, confer a -2 weakness to another god.

40 AP/30 DC: destroy a god.



Player
Deity
Domains/Weaknesses


Garjel_blah
Chern
+4 Decay, -2 Downtrodden


Godzillarich
Grawissen
+2 Mining, +2 Knowledge, -2 Unknown


Megadraco
Kahar-Djin
+2 Paths, +2 Thresholds, -2 Unexplored


Demonjazz
Alatadriel
+2 Fire, +2 Foxes, -2 Arrogance


The Jojo
Avestra
+2 Nature, +2 Birds, -2 Primeval


Batcathat
Ymon-Thal
+2 Life, +2 Death, -2 Unliving


El-the Ellie
Vreyalas
+2 Community, +2 Forging, -2 Darkness


Artemis P
Nestellbam
+4 Preservation, -2 Creation


gac3
Timorin
+2 Drama, +2 War, -2 Fear


sadatg
Enheduanna
+2 Devotion, +2 Subjugation, -2 Autonomy


Mira_124
Opulon
+2 Cosmology, +2 Divination, -2 Focus


flyinglemur
Dulnori
+2 Fortune, +2 Ambition, -2 Stability


Maryring
Petr
+2 Water, +2 Healing, -2 Pain


DarthArminius
Su'ule
+2 Sorcery, +2 Monsters, -2 Willfulness


Captain Cap
Solomo
+2 Guidance, +2 Wisdom, -2 Self-doubt


AlexanderML
Yir
+2 Sun, +2 Majesty, -2 Arrogance



Name: Chern, Aspect of the Descending Cycle, the Wiltwatcher, the Masked One, the Stranger-Scavenger

Domain: +4 Decay

Weakness: -2 Downtrodden

Rationale: the power of Chern derives from his understanding that the universe functions in cycles. Most people take interest in the ascending part of the cycle – growth, birth, abundance – but Chern knows that there is often more wisdom found in that which is descending – decay, death, and destruction. For creation as a concept is naïve, in his eyes, and it is in fact recreation from the remnants of decay that nourishes life. This perspective manifests more broadly as a Romantic appreciation for the lowly and downtrodden, and makes it difficult for Chern to tolerate that which towers too high above its peers. This is when his -2 downtrodden disadvantage applies; actions that work against the lowly, or favour too strongly the powerful.

Avatar description: Chern most often manifests as tall man in the ragged garb of a wanderer or hermit, who conceals his face behind a plain mask or in hooded shadows. The mask is his main icon, but can vary considerably; sometime it is simply carved pale wood, other times it is bone, and occasionally even chitin. Chern is also commonly depicted as being laden with a large collection of assorted detritus and broken objects, usually in a bag on his back.


https://images-wixmp-ed30a86b8c4ca887773594c2.wixmp.com/f/663caea3-2539-4281-aa50-65034133ff54/dag4sxm-2fc19ccc-edff-48e5-9f42-dfbea38f1215.jpg/v1/fill/w_845,h_946,q_70,strp/masked_by_carpet_crawler_dag4sxm-pre.jpg?token=eyJ0eXAiOiJKV1QiLCJhbGciOiJIUzI1NiJ9 .eyJzdWIiOiJ1cm46YXBwOjdlMGQxODg5ODIyNjQzNzNhNWYwZ DQxNWVhMGQyNmUwIiwiaXNzIjoidXJuOmFwcDo3ZTBkMTg4OTg yMjY0MzczYTVmMGQ0MTVlYTBkMjZlMCIsIm9iaiI6W1t7Imhla WdodCI6Ijw9MTE0NyIsInBhdGgiOiJcL2ZcLzY2M2NhZWEzLTI 1MzktNDI4MS1hYTUwLTY1MDM0MTMzZmY1NFwvZGFnNHN4bS0yZ mMxOWNjYy1lZGZmLTQ4ZTUtOWY0Mi1kZmJlYTM4ZjEyMTUuanB nIiwid2lkdGgiOiI8PTEwMjQifV1dLCJhdWQiOlsidXJuOnNlc nZpY2U6aW1hZ2Uub3BlcmF0aW9ucyJdfQ.DauVc4ET6DslrZSN HxEqN75tCRKNYwHw3tUSbH3kZHU
Credit Carpet-Crawler, DeviantArt

Theme: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iyem2I6Nxvc

Name: Grawissen, Speaker of the Forgotten

Domain: Mining +2 and knowledge +2

Weakness: weakness -2 unknown, he will seek knowledge no matter how stupid it may be. He also has a he has a problem comprehending stuff he misses.

Rationale: My spirit was born in the darkness of the underground caverns, the pain and loneliness over the generations chipped at my soul. But one day I found something truly horrific. Bones, Bones of creatures that truly lived magnificent lives but are now forgotten like me. That is when I understood my purpose, to make sure the past is not forgotten.

Avatar description: His form is made up of very different bones from dead beings.
T. rex legs: https://sep.yimg.com/ay/prehistory/jurassic-world-tyrannosaurus-rex-skeleton-fossil-replica-36-inch-1.jpg
Therizinosaurus arms:
https://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/c/cd/Therizinosaurus_arms.jpg
https://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/8/82/Therizinosaurus.png
Ankylosaurus tail:
http://images.dinosaurpictures.org/Ankylosaurus_DSCF0393_3607.jpg
Spinosaurus body and sail:
https://static.turbosquid.com/Preview/2014/11/05__07_01_35/R05.jpg6f0d50c5-61b3-4281-b74d-fd154f1e29bbOriginal.jpg
And a Triceratops head
https://blog.everythingdinosaur.co.uk/wp-content/uploads/old/triceratops_skull.jpg
His body is held together by his will and if he wanted to he we can fall apart and reform himself.

Theme:https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=34CZjsEI1yU

Name: Kahar-Djin, the Connector, Guardian of Gates

Domain: +2 Paths, +2 Thresholds

Weakness: 2 Unexplored. Applies to actions involving areas not well known or explored by mortals.

Rationale: Kahar-Djin draws their power from the Paths, the connections between all things, though particularly locations. Yet, at the same time, they see the power in the Thresholds that divide all creation, and draw from them as well. One could see it as strange to draw power from such seemingly opposed sources, yet Kahar-Djin understands that they could not exist without the other. For how can you have a path between that which is undivided? And of what use is a division between two things with no connection? Yet, paths and thresholds do not truly exist in nature. No distinct paths form in the wilderness, and all is part of the same whole. No, divisions, and the paths that they form, are first created within the sapient mind, and then applied to the world around them. So, Kahar-Djin’s power weakens in those places untouched by a sapient mind.

Avatar Description: Kahar-Djin can take on many forms, but they most often appear in one of two forms: A warrior woman, clad in shining armor and carrying a great shield, who seems to always stand out, no matter where she is, and a wandering man wearing a traveller’s cloak, face obscured behind a mask, a walking staff in hand.

Theme: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=u7W0Nm8iHwk

The Divine Iridescent Elegance of Vulpine Vestalry, Alatadriel: Creator of the Blade Dance, Patron God of Duelists, Protectorate of the Forge, Caretaker of The Hearth, Queen of Summer, Unparalleled Cook, Tea Master, Purifier, and Heavenly Gift to Mankind.

Domain: +2 to the ferocious, and fearsome domain of frightful fire. +2 to the friendly and flirtatious domain of fractious foxes.

Weakness: -2 to Arrogant “I’m not arrogant, I’m just simply better than you.”

Rationale: As Alatadriel tells it she existed long before mankind. In the days when great magnificent lizards roamed the Earth, there was only one that was insightful, cunning and magnificent enough to understand this rugged life. Alatadriel. She had been a simple fox at this time, but the unbefore seen cunning that she displayed had inspired enough amazement in her fox kin that she was gifted with some semblance of spiritual abilities. Even these primitive creatures understood the power of this fox.
As the “Gigantic Rock from the sky that destroyed all giant reptiles, made everything cold and turned the sky black” happened. It was then that Alatadriel, smartest of all creatures, came down into the tunnels with a stick of fire. It was this fire that protected her and many other creatures in the tunnels. That fire which provided warmth but scared all but Keeper of Fire Alatadriel. Many survived without her help of course, but Alatadriel will rarely tell it that way. One day though, as new grass grew upon the plain, the fire raged. Alatadriel learned of the terrible wrath of fire, losing her mammalian followers, the old spirit laid dormant beneath the Earth.
It was not until man much like the foxes of old started to huddle around the fire for warmth; did everyone begin to remember the powerful spirit. Alatadriel’s power grew with each fire that humanity tamed. As both man and beast grew to know it’s terrible glory. She was awakened by the thoughts of animals, but it was the strong belief of man in their tamed fire which let her grow her magical powers. Humanity, self-centered as always gave this primitive belief a human form. Thusly, Alatadriel could take a human form. Her people used to know her somewhat well as a spirit before she ascended to that of a full god. Though most have already forgotten that such a time ever existed.
To say, Alatadriel is a cruel god would be wrong. She does care deeply for her people, she would certainly never take something from you which you needed. Though her idea of what is needed is likely narrower than yours and will lavish praise and comfort on dutiful followers. As far as she is concerned, she was the first-ever animal to gain spiritual powers, the first true god. She survived cataclysms bodily and has walked the Earth for Aeons. Everything she sees rightfully belongs to her it follows to reason, and while she is happy to share her world with these upstarts, she would like you to understand that you are borrowing what is hers. She likes to see what is hers to flourish, and her possessions should be taken care of well.
It’s this arrogance that causes her to often act rashly, be overly petty, greedy, envious, or otherwise petulant when her things are not taken care of as she sees fit.


Avatar description: Typically, Alatadriel does not take on many different forms. Though she will occasionally manifest as a face in the fire or crackle on your hearth, she usually only takes two forms. A large bright red nine-tailed fox with shifting eyes and tufts of harmless fire following her movements among the animals and other non-humanoids. And that of a beautiful human woman with fox features, most notably nine large fluffy tails but also fox-like ears, claw-like nails on her fingers, a button nose and the shifting eyes of a fox on her face. Typically red-headed and having harmless blue swirling flames, almost cartoonish in their abstraction, hovering around her. She is usually wearing whatever dresses are considered both traditional but free-flowing at any moment.

Theme: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=10u0VZHDiq0



Name: Avestra - Avian Goddess of Nature and Queen of the Sky


Domain: +2 Nature, +2 Birds


Weakness: -2 Primeval


Rationale: Ever since the first bird broke through its eggshell to find itself in a world of raking talons and sharp teeth, Avestra has been there. For many aeons, she was nothing more than a whisper in the back of the hindbrain, the thrill at the height of the chase. It was only with the birth of another race of large-brained, two-legged creatures that Avestra finally had the strength to take on her own distinct form. And she didn't like what she found.


Manmade fires which tore through whole forests. Tools which one day would be able to carve out valleys and change the very shape of the landscape. Avestra took an oath that day to fight for the natural world until her dying breath. Even if it meant strangling the nascent civilisation in its cradle.


Avatar: Avestra can take the shape of any bird, or indeed any form at all, but her favoured avatar is that of a giant falcon with a three and a half metre wingspan. Her feathers are a wood brown speckled with flecks of gold, while her eyes burn with a fierce, primal intelligence.

Name: Ymon-Thal, the Eternal Argument, the Twin God, First Beginning and Final End
Domains: Life + 2, Death + 2
Weaknesses: - 2 Unliving
Rationale: A long time ago the first spark of life appeared but was quickly followed and extinguished by the first drop of death. Then another spark, another drop, again and again, one always following the other.
Soon after Ymon appeared, quickly followed and joined by Thal, to embody the opposed but interdependent nature of life and death.
Avatar description: Ymon-Thal almost always appears as Ymon and Thal, his paradoxical nature embodied in separate bodies. Their appearance (looks, age, gender) usually depends on who they’re talking to (or their intentions), but they are always completely identical. Not that most people notice since they act as differently as they look alike.
Ymon is bursting with energy, always moving, talking, doing and with a tendency to treat everyone as his new best friend. Meanwhile, Thal Is deadly serious, harsh and stern.
But no matter how different they appear and how argumentative they seem, Ymon-Thal always act as one, they could no more work against each other than a left hand could work against the right.

Name: Vreyalas; The Shining God; The Utopian God; The Blessed Craftsman
Domain: +2 Community, +2 Forging
Weakness: -2 Darkness
Rationale: The people that walk this world blaze the path forward. Vreyalas was born when the first sentient mortal was born, and is tied inextricably to the mortal desires for companionship and community, and for progress and improvement. Vreyalas was never a mortal, but he empathizes intrinsically with their plight. He was born in the mind of the first mortal: first as nameless desire, then as an ideal, then an idea. When the first mortal spoke to another, her words formed fire in the air. When that fire became cool enough to look upon, Vreyalas had been given a form.

Where darkness lurks, so too does abandonment and decay. These things are the antithesis of a functioning community, and should be avoided.
Avatar: Vreyalas appears to mortals in a multitude of forms, and isn't shy about walking among them when it suits him. He can appear as a beautiful man, woman, or in between; an old crone; or a child. To crafters that he particularly wants to impress, he might appear as a man or woman of metal or stone.

Nestellbam, the Preserver, the Lawkeeper, the God under the Mountain, the King of Dragons, the Mad God

Domains: +4 to Preservation

Weakness: -2 to Sanity

Rationale: The chaos that came from the original hunk of rock drove Nestellbam insane, for instead of learning to appreciate the cycles of life and chaos, as the other gods did, Nestellbam took fear in that. And in that fear, in that anxiety, took root of an incessant need for things to stay the same, to keep order in all things, to preserve. For, to Nestellbam, change is like the creeping doom that kills all things- change begets new ideas, which cause conflict between old and new, which cause destruction, which cause chaos and fear. Nestellbam hates fear; yet that fear of change, fear of the unknown, is also what drives him the most. He tells his followers of change as synonymous with sin, and he has recently begun collecting things, under a rock he calls Mountain, in order to preserve more and more of what there is in a society. He finds kinship with the lawmakers and lawkeepers of a society, and any and all who wish to understand the past- his most devout followers he collects as curators of his vast hoard of what once was.

It need be said that, when change is inevitable, as it always is, Nestellbam has been known to let go what he can in order to preserve what he can, hoarding it and collecting it under his mountain. Sometimes, in order to preserve, one must cut off a branch from the tree, or the limb from a person, something Nestellbam knows all to well. His followers also understand this. His detractors, or those who do not understand this simple idea, call him "The Mad God," for his supposedly fickle nature.

Avatar: Nestellbam often manifests as a large, white dragon, breathing ice in order to preserve what he can.

Name: Timorin, The Great Coward, Mischief Maker

Domain: +2 Drama, +2 War

Weakness: -2 Fear

Rationale: Timorin is the embodiment of chaos. He lives for causing mischief and stirring things up. Nothing harnesses the true power of chaos like war, so he often finds himself mixed up in starting them. He himself is no fighter. He pops in, stirs things up, and then makes his exit as he watches all that unfolds. The wilder the better.

Avatar description: Timorin takes many forms before mortals. Often the kind which seem most trustworthy; children, the elderly, beautiful partners. He takes whatever appearance he believes can accomplish whatever mischief he is up to.


Name: Enheduanna, Voice of Worship, Chains of Devotion, Priestess Queen
Domain: Devotion: +2, Subjugation +2
Weakness: Autonomy: -2

Rationale: As the Mortals to the Gods so should be the natural order of things. The Citizen to the Queen. The Husband to the Wife. The Dog to the Boy. The devoted should be recognized. Those who encourage devotion should be rewarded.

Appearance:tbd

Opulon, the Farseer, Heaven's Prophet, other names tbd
Domains: +2 Cosmology, +2 Divination
Weakness: -2 Focus

Rationale: Opulon was never a mortal, or at least wasn't one as far as she remembers. She doesn't remember much, really, if it wasn't something the stars whispered to her. For as long as she's been aware, she's heard the voices of the stars in the heavens and has been able to listen to their words - sometimes nonsensical, sometimes foretellings of things that have yet to happen. When she chooses to listen to the stars Opulon can become lost in their stories, freezing to the spot with her gaze affixed on the sky for decades. The stars speak to her and show her visions of things to come, and she is saddened by the fact that the stars cannot hear her voice as well.

Avatars: Opulon generally appears as a young woman with waist-long, dark hair, clad in a midnight gown and a hooded cloak of stars, especially when showing herself to mortals. Her eyes are silver and glow during the nighttime, constantly reflecting the light of the stars. https://i.pinimg.com/originals/86/73/2f/86732f1b794ff1ea918589ca459e23bc.jpg
In other times, she enjoys flying through the sky as a barn owl, her feathers sparkling with points of light no matter the time of day. https://secure.i.telegraph.co.uk/multimedia/archive/01079/earth-graphics-200_1079617a.jpg
When not in either of these forms, Opulon has adopted a form that allows her to be as close to the stars as she possibly can be. In what she lovingly calls her "True Form", Opulon is a translucent beast taller than the tallest tree, with inky black-blue skin that blends in with the night sky. She sparkles from thousands of tiny pinpricks of light that shift as she moves and she trails lines of greenish-blue light behind her that resemble the Aurora Borealis.
https://i.pinimg.com/originals/95/fc/56/95fc5697186a76f336cb96b2a1157309.jpg Think this, but imagine those blue tentacly things looking more like the northern lights.

Name: Dulnori, the gambler, the knave, the plucked fruit, the rolling coin.
Domain: Fortune +2, Ambition +2
Weakness: Stability -2
Rationale: He is the god of risk, drive, potential, and luck. He wants to see mortals follow paths of greatness and glory in life. He loves games, games of chance, games of skill, but most of all games that combine both. He often challenges mortals in various ways, granting them great rewards on victory, or even just for putting up a good enough struggle. And his rewards truly are great, vast amounts of wealth, power, sometimes even a wish. He likes to spur great men into action, or to make small men greater, and loves it when mortals choose to be daring or adventurous. He wants the same for the gods as well, and will often take bets among his peers. He dislikes stagnancy, preferring to shake things up when possible, and so has a difficult time keeping things from changing.
Avatar: His preferred form is a body of sand, sometimes twisting and changing, and sometimes pact into a rough golem shape. In human form he looks like a tall thin man with a golden cane. He appears often as shimmering coins and jewels, and sometimes as a room made out of emerald with a great mirror. As animals, he can appear as a rhinoceros, a weasel, or a carp. Finally, he often takes the form a tree, always bearing ripe fruit.


Names: Petr/Peter/Petra. The Tender One. Healing Mother. Gentle Father. The Waters of Life. The Flowermaker.
Domain: Water +2. Healing +2
Weakness: Pain -2

Bio: Water is the key to life and to restoration. It's lack brings suffering and death. It's presence brings bounty and fertility. When the wound is cleansed in Water, it is Peter who soothes the bite of the beast, for He knows that no hunter can endure endlessly. When the Mother gives birth in Water, it is Petra who carries the pain away, for she knows the suffering of the labour. Wherever pain is soothed, and where health is restored, it is the gentle touch of Flowermaker's gifts. Petr is compassion, restoration and growth. He eases pain both mental and physical, and her waters sustain not just the bodies of all living creatures, but allow plants to grow and bear fruit.

Avatar: Though Petr has many forms, it is common, though incorrect, to divide the forms into Peter, the masculine, and Petra, the feminine. Common to all incarnations is the flawlessness of the body. There are no wounds nor scars. No blotches of miscolouration. The skin is perfectly smooth, like that of frozen ice. Yet the touch is always soothing, and neither warm nor cold. They have no hair, but water may flow from their scalp. There is almost always a constant cloud of healing mist surrounding them.

Name: Su'ule

Domain: +2 Sorcery, +2 Monsters

Weakness: - 2 Willfulness

Rationale: The power of Su'ule manifests with magic, and monstrous beings like the chimera, dragons, orcs, etcetera, which, in other words, are beings that are "unnatural". With her ability to manipulate magical energy, she is particularly popular with magic users. It is notable that sorcery is different from divination. The former is basically manipulating energy to perform for the sorcerer's will, while divination is based more on it's deity's power. However, she sees her monstrous children as, well, children, and as a result, sometimes her off spring are either vain, or at least willful. Though she is not purely malicious or deviant goddess, she finds it against her nature to punish her children, at least as much as she should actually do it. Thus, sometimes, even if her monsters aren't necessarily evil, they are usually destructive. If they don't destroy Su'ule's other creations they may still acquire very bad reputations as evil creatures.

Avatar description:
Her head and neck is like a giant cobra's mixed with a dragon's, she also has huge black bat like wings sprouting from her back, a rattle snake tail, fore arms with vicious claws and fore legs that are of course, also clawed.

Name: Solomo, Sage of the Higher Spheres, the Guiding Light, the Radiant Wisdom, the Wise Stranger

Domains: +2 Guidance, +2 Wisdom

Weakness: -2 Self-doubt

Rationale: ''With immense power we were born among the beings of this world, above the beasts that wander on land, the ones swimming in the oceans and those flying through the skies in our incommensurable extension, unfathomable to the earthly minds; but this shall not make us arrogant and haughty, because as great as we may be, our strength and essence are bounded to this planet, a mere speck of dust floating in the void of an infinite cosmos, at the whim of forces and laws far greater than we are.
Can something be done to assure our survival in the eons to come, in an uncaring universe that inexorably descends towards chaos? I sincerely don't know, but I'll tell you where I think our best hope resides: in those mortals with their earthly but lively minds, struggling in the mud but seeking greatness; before our eyes, there's an ever-evolving crucible of ideas and perspectives, as their finite nature pushes these creatures towards ingenuity and progress through weakness and suffering. The same finite nature is however source of insecurity and vacillation too, and we must not feed their self-doubt, but guide them through the adversities and show them their worth.
Trust me when I say that a glorious path is ahead of them, a path that might lead to a level of existence even higher than our own, a path that might save us all.''

Avatar description: Sometimes, when a mortal is lost (literally or figuratively), a mysterious globe of light appears to indicate the right direction, ripping the veil of darkness or uncertainty; if that is not enough, the mortal will discern a source behind the light, a torch or a lamp held by a stranger: the other will recognize him as a member of his kind, old but healthy-looking; the figure is dressed with humble robes, which don't weaken the aura of extraordinary dignity.



Name: Yir, the Glorious Sun, the Intolerably Pure Lord of All ('Intolerably' being used by those who dislike, despise, oppose, or otherwise don't agree with Yir being perfect)

Domain: +2 Sun (It is ME!), +2 Majesty (None can stand before MY glory and find themselves fit!)

Weakness: -2 Arrogance (No number of you can defeat ME!)


Rationale: Yir the Glorious Sun (often referred to as simply "the sun") has existed for an unknown amount of time, it's conscience fluctuating overtime as it overlooked the world; from periods of godly level of control and power, to times where Yir was comatose and detached from the world. No matter what though for all this time Yir has never stopped radiating it's glorious light (for even if the clouds block the sky, Yir's light still never ceases).

There is no (or at least little) doubt that Yir is indeed the sun that overlooks the world, it's more a matter on if it's paying attention to what's below it at the moment (during 'turns' it's awake, in-between turns it's asleep). Yir cannot actually pay attention to everything beneath it most of the time, but Yir would never admit it.

Yir overtime has had the idea enter it's mind that everything beneath it belongs to it, and get's angry at those that would refuse to at least acknowledge this claim. He expects others (especially non-gods) to lead lives where they try to be "pure", never sullying themselves doing anything that Yir would find repulsive (which is a long and convoluted list of things that can change). Those that are found to be pure (or close enough) are treated with a bit of respect by Yir; for they must be utilized, conserved, and be allowed to be shining examples like itself.

Those that try to challenge the glory or respectability of the Pure Lord of All will find it's power great, but it's arrogance even greater. Yir does not think it or those it supports can lose unless shown absolutely overwhelming power, and thinks little of trickery or tactics (or at least what tactics it's enemies might create).

Avatar Description: Yir has little need for an 'avatar' being the SUN; however, when it wishes to communicate it does change a little. To those it's speaking to Yir looks like it's made the sun pulsate, though the effect is localized to those it's speaking to. This is easily missed by those that are indoors or simply not looking up.

Just copying over all the information from the recruitment thread, will introduce the game properly in the next post.
Here's a link to the recruitment thread for my and other's convenience - http://www.giantitp.com/forums/showthread.php?603559-Pan-aeons-a-God-Game&p=24284541#post24284541

EDIT: some additional world references...

Go to the OOC and Codex for more of this: http://www.giantitp.com/forums/showthread.php?606876-Pan-aeons-OOC-and-Codex

All mortals were imbued with the potential to channel this magic, and deposits of a magical mineral known as magicite crystalised deep beneath the earth. This magic is in theory restricted only by what one's voice can shout, though true free-form sorcery would be attainable for only the most powerful mortal sorcerers, who could master the nine schools of sorcery:
The school of astrology, which allows for divination by communing with the stars.
The school of water, which may manipulate water and use it to heal.
The school of nature, which enable nature to be commanded, and has a more advanced sub-school called the school of treewhispering, which allows for communication with nature and is best learned at a young age.
The school of fire, which is notoriously dangerous and will destroy most who try to use it. Most will never even attempt it, and those who do attain some mastery of it will emerge burnt by the fury of the fox.
The school of the warrior, which allows one to channel magic into their physique, and can result in supercharging battle fields with the excess mana of the fallen.
The school of necromancy, giving command over the boundary between life and death.
The school of radiance, which allows the limited free-form sorcery by channelling the sun, and can only be performed with the blessing of a god.
The school of enchantment, which allows objects to be imbued with magic.
Additional restrictions were imposed on the raw power of Su'ule's shout. All prospective sorcerers would be limited by their mana pool, and overuse of sorcery would exhaust them both physically and spiritually. Furthermore, due to the influence of the Dragon, any form of Su Sorcery is incredibly difficult to perform in the region known then as the Harken Steppe, and creatures from the Steppe are inherently resilient to and poor at performing magic. However there are ways to overcome such barriers. Performing ritual sorcery with groups could extend the capabilities of magic, while prayer to one of the gods could bolster magical ability still further for the faithful.

EDIT 2: quick disclaimer since this has been raised to me a couple of times, but the pygmies referred to throughout this game are based on early human pygmies (see this link https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Homo_floresiensis for details). I was not intending to reference any extant human pygmy minorities.

[Garjel_blah]

Chapter One: In the beginning...
Stone Age

Had any one of the fledgling sentient creatures on this far away planet looked up at the night sky at the time of their awakening, they would have noticed something that they were not yet wise enough to know was an extraordinary phenomenon, but still aware enough to find wondrous. The alignment of the planets, their brightness multiplied until they almost outshone the full moon. The gods, though their presence had been felt by mortals ever since the conception of the soul, now found the strength to manifest at full power. Their avatars appeared, scattered across the globe. Now was the time to present themselves to the mortals, who still only knew them as subconscious notions of a greater power, and be worshipped for their divinity!

Each god from the pantheon has been placed at random (mostly) in one of the six locations presented below. You are free to leave these locations, but I encourage you to put effort into describing the places you go instead, so we can organically develop this world (which I should really name...). Once we have enough places I'll put together a map or something. Anyway, here're the starting locations:


http://fc06.deviantart.net/fs11/i/2006/255/f/6/Stormy_Hawaiian_Overlook_by_IceArdor.jpg
Credit to IceArdor, DeviantArt

Where a mighty river opens up to the wider ocean waters lies a stretch of blackness called Ebonbark Bay. Black in quite the literal sense; the jagged headland rocks are predominantly black basalt, the sand of the beach bears the volcanic appearance of gunpowder, the soil further inland is dark and rich with nutrients... Even the trees grow with naturally black bark.

One might expect such a land to appear dead, charred, and rotten, but the reality could not be more different. There is a refreshing beauty to the place, as if it were the site of some ancient bush fire that is well on the way to regenerating its lost vitality. The air is fresh and abuzz with the sounds of wildlife. During one of the many fierce storms that batter this coastline mortals will find comfort in the solid fortress of the black cliffs, while on hotter days they may instead seek the cool, unobtrusive dimness of the well-canopied forests and damp mangroves. Food is by no means scarce, with modest beans, nuts, and roots available to anyone with the knowledge to forage for them, or fish for those brave enough to test the black, silty river and rough, grey ocean. Upstream the land opens up into a vast, meandering floodplain, populated by herds of larger beasts and birds, as well as a small but steady population of primitive agrarian humans.

Grawissen, Kahar-Djin, and Alatadriel will arrive here first.


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Credit to MaximeDaviron, DeviantArt

Looking around, one might think this land empty and barren. However, it's said that the plains of the great Harken Steppe are so vast and taut, that if you lay your ear to the ground you shall be able to hear every foot fall, every tumbling stone, and even the very hiss of shifting sand from one horizon to the other. Life on the steppe is few and far between, but even so it is all inexorably connected by the very earth on which it grows.

Conditions here tend to vary between extremes. Parts of the year it might be arid and blisteringly hot, baking the land into a desert and driving life away into migration. Then the rains fall, the valleys become roaring rivers overnight, and the plants and animals that had been so recently displaced return in force. Yet still the sun might set on an unwitting traveller, tired from a day in the heat, and rise the next day to see him frozen in his sleep by the bitter cold of night. An existence on the steppe can be difficult, but those that succeed grow hardy and fierce. The native beasts tend to be bigger than those from other lands, and so the steppe-dwelling humans have adapted into strong hunters.

Nestellbam, Dulnori, and Solomo will arrive here first.


https://images-wixmp-ed30a86b8c4ca887773594c2.wixmp.com/f/be137a83-72f4-4078-9f37-90c74aaa1178/d8nl1i4-a9b2fa95-11b6-4021-a724-67b7789cf22a.jpg/v1/fill/w_1023,h_515,q_75,strp/jungle_by_jordigart_d8nl1i4-fullview.jpg?token=eyJ0eXAiOiJKV1QiLCJhbGciOiJIUzI 1NiJ9.eyJzdWIiOiJ1cm46YXBwOjdlMGQxODg5ODIyNjQzNzNh NWYwZDQxNWVhMGQyNmUwIiwiaXNzIjoidXJuOmFwcDo3ZTBkMT g4OTgyMjY0MzczYTVmMGQ0MTVlYTBkMjZlMCIsIm9iaiI6W1t7 ImhlaWdodCI6Ijw9NTE1IiwicGF0aCI6IlwvZlwvYmUxMzdhOD MtNzJmNC00MDc4LTlmMzctOTBjNzRhYWExMTc4XC9kOG5sMWk0 LWE5YjJmYTk1LTExYjYtNDAyMS1hNzI0LTY3Yjc3ODljZjIyYS 5qcGciLCJ3aWR0aCI6Ijw9MTAyMyJ9XV0sImF1ZCI6WyJ1cm46 c2VydmljZTppbWFnZS5vcGVyYXRpb25zIl19.n2dKqDpFH9eHS NMGIPT0Q0Fq4LqcRi-fYLvZ45YIqwU
Credit to JordiGart, DeviantArt

There are parts of the forest floor in the depths of Boa that haven't seen sunlight in centuries. Life thrives so haphazardly in this jungle that the vegetation will just continue to grow on and around itself, coiling up and through and further up until they're smothered, rotting into a plant bed suitable for the next generation of light-hungry creepers. On and on until the ground becomes a foreign concept.

Much like its namesake, the Boa Jungle grows up constricting itself, creating a continuous network of interlinking branches and vines that form bridges thick enough to support megafauna. Verticality is part of every creature's life here, as moving on the true forest floor would require burrowing. Even rivers must form in chaotic rapids, punctuated regularly by waterfalls through cavernous forest glades. Food and water are abundant here, but so is danger. Poison and disease ooze from every other plant or creature, predators stalk through the shadows. This abundance allows for two kinds of sentient life; regular humans, living in the sparser peripheries of Boa, as well as the pygmies, tiny hominids that live in the trees. They keep a wary distance from each other.

Chern, Ymon-Thal, and Opulon will arrive here first.


https://images-wixmp-ed30a86b8c4ca887773594c2.wixmp.com/f/ac0b762e-4f22-4de6-a72a-250df19d9416/d70nwhg-55b0900f-a18b-4cfb-9043-eeb11335b8c2.jpg/v1/fill/w_1024,h_547,q_75,strp/cavern_by_spiffyartistgirl_d70nwhg-fullview.jpg?token=eyJ0eXAiOiJKV1QiLCJhbGciOiJIUzI 1NiJ9.eyJzdWIiOiJ1cm46YXBwOjdlMGQxODg5ODIyNjQzNzNh NWYwZDQxNWVhMGQyNmUwIiwiaXNzIjoidXJuOmFwcDo3ZTBkMT g4OTgyMjY0MzczYTVmMGQ0MTVlYTBkMjZlMCIsIm9iaiI6W1t7 ImhlaWdodCI6Ijw9NTQ3IiwicGF0aCI6IlwvZlwvYWMwYjc2Mm UtNGYyMi00ZGU2LWE3MmEtMjUwZGYxOWQ5NDE2XC9kNzBud2hn LTU1YjA5MDBmLWExOGItNGNmYi05MDQzLWVlYjExMzM1YjhjMi 5qcGciLCJ3aWR0aCI6Ijw9MTAyNCJ9XV0sImF1ZCI6WyJ1cm46 c2VydmljZTppbWFnZS5vcGVyYXRpb25zIl19.znZsUMqrwmJWQ oEyNGSDxkDlx03sUaudpBb0wZ7WwRk
Credit to spiffyartistgirl, DeviantArt

Only some cataclysmic violence could have created something the likes of Stonesthroe. Soaring peaks that look as though they were pulled from the earth by the scruff of the neck, plummeting caverns like the impressions left behind from their uprooting. If you ever wanted to leap from the highest peak to the deepest depths in one great stride, then this would be the place to do it.

Some of the peaks of Stonesthroe are permanently capped by snow, such is their altitude, but most of the mountain range experiences a wide variety of conditions. Humid river gullies wind between sheer cliffs and into narrow caves, disappearing into one side of a mountain only to reappear from the other. Above and around them grow hard-wooded trees and mighty conifers. The further up the mountains you climb, the sparser it becomes, until only scree and eventually ice remains to blemish the slopes. Maybe even cloud if you ascend the highest summits. Life is surprisingly abundant in these parts, though once again as a function of altitude. Caves make good homes to some of the larger, more threatening wildlife, as well as the stocky neanderthals that make this place their home. They tend to occupy the loftier caves, while groups of humans stick to the lower valleys.

Vreyalas, Petr, and Yir will arrive here first.


https://images-wixmp-ed30a86b8c4ca887773594c2.wixmp.com/f/b05be45e-3ce6-40e5-bece-d7f6b1859c4f/dbm4m9a-fd5af92e-87ef-4213-a3d3-01012df976e3.png/v1/fill/w_1024,h_577,q_80,strp/wind___aush_color_thumbs_by_parkurtommo_dbm4m9a-fullview.jpg?token=eyJ0eXAiOiJKV1QiLCJhbGciOiJIUzI 1NiJ9.eyJzdWIiOiJ1cm46YXBwOjdlMGQxODg5ODIyNjQzNzNh NWYwZDQxNWVhMGQyNmUwIiwiaXNzIjoidXJuOmFwcDo3ZTBkMT g4OTgyMjY0MzczYTVmMGQ0MTVlYTBkMjZlMCIsIm9iaiI6W1t7 ImhlaWdodCI6Ijw9NTc3IiwicGF0aCI6IlwvZlwvYjA1YmU0NW UtM2NlNi00MGU1LWJlY2UtZDdmNmIxODU5YzRmXC9kYm00bTlh LWZkNWFmOTJlLTg3ZWYtNDIxMy1hM2QzLTAxMDEyZGY5NzZlMy 5wbmciLCJ3aWR0aCI6Ijw9MTAyNCJ9XV0sImF1ZCI6WyJ1cm46 c2VydmljZTppbWFnZS5vcGVyYXRpb25zIl19.4l3OVDBeIsl8l FnvGiGVbX2eV__3akQa4ugG9Nj4dwA
Credit to parkurtommo, DeviantArt

One of the most gorgeous places on the planet, the Lucent Archipelago could take even a god's breath away. Clear blue ocean girts this small cluster of islands and lagoons, each protecting the rest from the lashing of waves, and allowing the development of Lucent Reef. At night, the beaches and coral outcrops become eerily illuminated by a dazzlingly high concentration of phosphorescent microbes, giving the archipelago its luminous name.

Life both on the islands and in the water is diverse and exotic, providing food and danger as well as wonder. The nearest mainland is close enough to prevent total isolation, but still sufficiently distant to allow for quite a unique environment. Even humans have not yet made it to this corner of the planet; only pygmies live on the Lucent Archipelago, swimming and fishing from the warm water in relative peace.

Avestra and Timorin will arrive here first.


https://images-wixmp-ed30a86b8c4ca887773594c2.wixmp.com/f/6bad06bc-f313-47f2-a3a7-4219b146ff0c/dcvh84t-a32f0b22-411e-44d0-b915-d4314fc84304.png/v1/fill/w_1280,h_720,q_80,strp/snowball_earth_by_dlikt_dcvh84t-fullview.jpg?token=eyJ0eXAiOiJKV1QiLCJhbGciOiJIUzI 1NiJ9.eyJzdWIiOiJ1cm46YXBwOjdlMGQxODg5ODIyNjQzNzNh NWYwZDQxNWVhMGQyNmUwIiwiaXNzIjoidXJuOmFwcDo3ZTBkMT g4OTgyMjY0MzczYTVmMGQ0MTVlYTBkMjZlMCIsIm9iaiI6W1t7 ImhlaWdodCI6Ijw9NzIwIiwicGF0aCI6IlwvZlwvNmJhZDA2Ym MtZjMxMy00N2YyLWEzYTctNDIxOWIxNDZmZjBjXC9kY3ZoODR0 LWEzMmYwYjIyLTQxMWUtNDRkMC1iOTE1LWQ0MzE0ZmM4NDMwNC 5wbmciLCJ3aWR0aCI6Ijw9MTI4MCJ9XV0sImF1ZCI6WyJ1cm46 c2VydmljZTppbWFnZS5vcGVyYXRpb25zIl19.cdCtJX1LL61rs 0qURANBWFcRr-1WeCGHKIZGBSs8abk
Credit to dlikt, DeviantArt

No one's invented hell yet, but in its absence, the Gnaw Wastes make a fine replacement. An inhospitable fusion of extremes, the wastes are a highly volcanic region of the polar ice caps, making it simultaneously unbearably cold and deadly hot in patterns that are impossible for the unaccustomed eye to pick out.

Very little survives in the wastes. Between the freezing blizzards, thin ice sheets, bubbling tar pits, oozing lava, smothering avalanches, noxious fumes, and scalding steam, most creatures find their niche else where. However, there is a life here for those that can find the balance. Lava tunnels provide protection from the cold, fresh snow provides water free of acid, and what little game does roam these parts carries enough blubber to feed a tribe. Only neanderthals have the hardiness for such a life as this, so far.

Enheduanna and Su'ule will arrive here first.

All gods start with 25 AP. The Stone Age will end when someone reaches 0 AP, or after three turns, whichever comes last.

[Garjel_blah]

Chern, 25/25 AP, Boa Jungle

The cover of the canopy was near total, but through a small gap in the leaves a wondrous sight could be discerned. The planets, drifting in their aeons-long waltz across the celestial sphere, slowly drew together until, with what could have been an almost audible click, they fell into alignment. A twinkle lit the undergrowth.

It was as though Chern had been lying there all along. Nestled in the hollow of a rotting log, the grimy and emaciated figure raised a hand to his face, groping blindly. Then he dug his nails into the wood in front of him, slowly but firmly tearing away a chunk of the soft debris. He pressed it to his face.

"Ahhh..." he hummed, and pushed himself upright. The wood had bleached bone-white against his face, fusing into a blank mask. His eyes glowed yellow from deep within the sockets, like luminous fungus growing at the bottom of a shadowy pit.

"The smell of this place... Decay abounds. The pressure of life upon life upon life, compacting itself, squeeeeeezing..."

Chern scrambled to his hands and knees, using his willowy fingers to shred the rotting stump beneath him.

"I must see moooore!" he insisted earnestly, his eyes flaring up as he dug into undergrowth. "Show me moooore!"

Where his hands rent the wood, tiny yellow spores fused, shining like live sparks from a fire. The first gift of Chern to this new world.

Create a basic living species (8 AP/4 DC)

+4 decay, as the species is a detritivore.

Chern will attempt to spread his divine decay into the Boa Jungle undergrowth, in the form of a luminous yellow fungus called "glowloam". This created species of fungus propagates by corroding tunnels through tough yet nutrient rich soil and minerals, forming caves over time while simultaneously illuminating them.

[Artemis P]

Nestellbam, 23/25 AP, Harken Steppe

Nestellbam awoke in the dark, in the cold, freezing, scared. There was a noise- no, not a noise, but something Nestellbam had known in the time before he was aware. He watched as the woman, dressed in a furry cut of a large animal, came to him, every day, and sometimes left things- offerings, he would learn later, by his base. Once, a large croup of animals approached the dwellings of the humans where he was above; long, sleek, furry creatures, with long tusks coming out from their jaws, mewing and raising fierce cries- and the woman, and her friends, were attacked, long, strong jaws snapping. And that is when Nestellbam awoke in full.

It was a temporary burst, a simple surge of power, caused by his anger, that caused this to awake. Suddenly, the people's bones were stronger, the claws that raked and the teeth that bit them unable to cut through skin, bones stronger, unable to break, and that animals- sabertoothed cats, he would learn they were called- fled into the night. And then it was done, everything faded away, the woman and the village preserved. And the woman, his favorite servant, led them, and they all prayed and grew stronger- and so he preserved. And he learned their odd noises, called language, though this took many, many years. He guided them- they liked to hunt larger creatures, called buffalo, and they followed the patterns of them- but no matter how far away they traveled the steppe, he always heard their cries.

I'm not certain if this is two actions or one, since the actions were supposed to be several years apart but with the same group of people- but I'll expend the AP twice.

Action 1: Influence a small group of mortals (~10) 2AP/DC 1
+4 Preserving the village/Auto-success.
AP left: 23

[Mira_124]

Opulon, 25/25 AP, Boa Jungle

The floor of the jungle was far below, the sky above glowing suddenly with unbelievable light. The planets aligned, a rare occurence that had not been seen for many, many milennia, and new creatures drew breath on an unfamiliar planet.

Opulon opened her eyes, confused as to where she was. She had been among the stars, listening to their whispers, when a blinding light caused her to shut off the connection for a moment, closing her eyes. When she opened them again, the land around her was new and strange, but full of possibility. The treetops swayed gently in a warm breeze, the balmy temperature creating a thin sheen on the leaves all around. Calls of various animals could be heard from every direction, with no place truly silent. She was nestled into a particularly large tree branch, positioned as if she had just climbed up a tree to take a nap away from bothersome beings.

Nearby, rudimentary huts were in adjacent treetops, looking to be mostly of branches and fans of foliage from the trees. Many small humans milled about, in and out of the huts, going about their lives with purpose. Some carried wood on their backs, crossing flimsy bridges of tree-fiber and vines to build new huts. Others swung down into the lower levels of the jungle, spears in hand, to hunt for food on the jungle floor. A group of huts near the middle of one of the nearby trees let loose a cacophony of sound; babies crying, mothers humming, children yelling as they are wont to do. Opulon sat quietly for a while, hidden from view, and watched these small humans. Her eyes glittered, both literally and figuratively (in interest), as she watched.

Slowly, she rose, walking towards the edge of the branch she had been sitting on. She had her eye on a small group of pygmies, 10 or so, who were building a hut on the outskirts of the high-up village. As she made a mental note of their location, Opulon took another step, this time off of the branch, and mid-fall she transformed into her favorite form, her "True Form", the incorporeal form that glittered with thousands of pinpoints of light.

Influence a small group of mortals (2 AP/1 DC)

"These mortals", she thought, her True Form slowly lumbering through the trees towards the small group she had seen, "they are interesting... Perhaps I can make this even more interesting..."

Opulon, in her True Form, walks past the small group of pygmies she'd singled out, her head high above the canopy of trees, and each one hears a message in their head, in their own language.
"Stop what you are doing and look up into the leaves. I am Opulon, the Farseer, the bringer of the explosion in the sky. Believe in my abilities and I will give you a taste of what is to come - and how to change your fates. Look at the stars each night and you will see me, hear my words of the future. Spread the word of my presence and I will reward the loyal greatly".

With that, she wills the hands of each of the 10 pygmies to glow in a similar fashion to that of her ethereal form, but still letting the hands interact with physical objects.
"This is proof of your interaction with me; show your hands to those closest to you to make them believe your words and let the others know to look to the stars at night. Your hands will return to normal after your task is complete".

[DarthArminius]

Su'ule, Mother Of Sorcery In The Gnaw Wastes

25/25 AP

Rising from the fires of the maw, meeting the frozen cold, Su'ule felt no pain, and was not harmed. She was the world's first monster, and for now the only one. She was also the goddess of sorcery, and the world's first witch. Raising her cobra and dragon headed face to the sky, she unleashed an enormous scream of pure, unadulterated primal force. Into the sky, the essence of Su'ule spread across the universe as her very will began to change the universe. Before, the world was a place of little magic. Only the gods were magical, all else followed some undisclosed laws of nature, perhaps, as mortals might come to know, something known as science would be learned in future academies, colleges and other institutions of learning.

The Law of Sorcery would be thus: Magic could be manipulated by those who learn it's principles, be they god, mortal or immortal. Through sheer force of will, manipulation of energy can be achieved. Incantations, and spell casting could now be done.

-20 AP to create The Law of Sorcery. Sorcery basically taps into the very voice of Su'ule used to scream into the universe. .

[Batcathat]

Ymon-Thal, 25/25 AP, Boa Jungle
An egg hatching. A bug crushed under a falling rock. A seed starting to grow. A pygmie impaled on another's spear. Lives and deaths beyond counting appearing every moment. The planets aligning may have been what allowed Ymon-Thal to manifest but the buffet of lives beginning and ending was what made it worth it.

Ymon flew quickly from plant to plant, animal to animal, life to life, marveling at each. "Look! This one, this one has six legs! And this one has weird leaves!" He turned to his other self, hovering motionless just above the tree tops. "Thal! Why aren't you looking? Look! The one with a plume is doing something!"

Thal ignored Ymon, as much as you can ignore someone who is quite literally part of you. Though he had to admit, for once Ymon's exuberant reaction wasn't entirely unjustified. Thal had sensed death, both in a general and a billion specific senses, for as long as he had existed. But this... this was something new.

Halfway between a tree and an interesting butterfly Ymon suddenly stopped, itself a miracle of the mundane kind. "We should do something!"

"Aren't you already? Several somethings, by the look of it." Thal replied.

"Something with this" Ymon said, with a mental gesture towards his divine power. "Something big."

Thal nodded in agreement. "Go ahead. Life before death."

Focusing on the feeling of life in the making Ymon-Thal extended his mind to every mother-to-be within considerable distance. Whether just conceived or about to be born the Twin God touched thousands of lives in the making, turning one into two. That was the idea, anyway.

At the same the mothers carrying them, whether asleep or awake, shared the same vision of Ymon-Thal, each aspect holding a newborn baby.

"You will have two children, as a gift from Ymon-Thal and a reminder of the value of life", said Ymon.

As the vision faded Thal spoke. "Treasure them. While you can."

Afterwards, as Ymon felt tired for the first time in existence, he turned to Thal. "So did it work?"


Influence a city of mortals (12 AP/8 DC) (I am assuming that cost is for the number of people influenced rather than the geographical area as there aren't any cities at this point)
+ 2 Life
In case it's unclear, what Ymon-Thal is trying to do is make everyone (of the sapient species) he can reach who is currently pregnant give birth to identical twins as well as giving a vision to the mothers in question. "Influence" is a pretty vague term but I'm hoping this qualifies as that, he's not making a new species or anything after all, just more of the existing ones.

[The JoJo]

Avestra, 25/25 AP, Ebonbark Bay

The Forest People had seen better days. Millennia ago, their ancestors had hunted big game across the fertile plains of inland Ebonbark Bay, their sturdy bodies and thickset brows perfectly suited for the dogged pursuit of their lumbering prey. But then the tallheads, with their gracile frames and perfected tools, began to pour in from the north.

The People were simply unable to compete. Some were assimilated by the newcomers, overwhelmed by sheer numbers and absorbed without a trace in just a few generations. Many more perished at spear point, or simply because the herds their tribe had always depended upon were devoured by the tallheads' unending appetite.

The remaining few were pushed down into the dense forest to the southeast, where in time they became the Forest People. Trapped between the now hostile plains on one side, and the West Lucent Sea on the other. And even then, the tallheads continued to push back the boundaries of the forest, clearing ever more space for their own hunting grounds and less for the People. It was during one of these clearings that the forest finally spoke.

On that particular day, a small group of tallheads had ventured far enough into the forest to attract the attention of the People. They had built up a great fire with no care for how closely its flames licked the nearest trees or who or what was burned by its rising heat. A great anger was felt by the forest dwellers, but none dared challenge the well armed interlopers.

Then suddenly, there was a shrieking from overhead. The People looked up with astonishment as not one, or two, but thousands of birds of all shapes and sizes descended from above them, in such great numbers that they blotted out the sun itself. By the time the tallheads noticed, the flock was almost upon them and it was too late to save them from their fate.

As quickly as they had appeared, the birds melted back into the trees. But above the heads of the awed forest dwellers was a single giant corvid, so large its shadow covered the area of a small village. It shrieked a cry heard across the entire forest and then dissolved into countless black feathers, which rained down upon the onlookers.

From that day forth, they were no longer the Forest People. They were now the Crow People.

-Influence a town-equivalent number of mortals (~10k)- convert the Forest People, an isolated group of Neanderthals stranded in the southeast of Ebonbark Bay, into the Crow People, primitive worshippers of Avestra. Use +2 Nature and +2 Birds.

[Garjel_blah]

OOC


I'm not certain if this is two actions or one, since the actions were supposed to be several years apart but with the same group of people- but I'll expend the AP twice.

Action 1: Influence a small group of mortals (~10) 2AP/DC 1
+4 Preserving the village/Auto-success.
AP left: 23

Action 2: Influence a large group of mortals (~100) 4AP/DC 2
+4 Preserving the buffalo/Auto- success.
AP left: 19

I hope that's correct, but if I did something wrong, let me know. It was just a guess!

If you want to do two separate influence actions, then you need to wait for the first one to be resolved before you do the second one. Even if you're guaranteed success, which you are. I'll resolve all actions at the same time once everyone has posted. Having said that, the two actions are both otherwise perfectly fine, so if you just remove the second one and it's associated fluff and repost it after I've resolved the first then that'd work for me.

[Garjel_blah]

Chern, 17/25 AP, Boa Jungle


-20 AP to create The Law of Sorcery.

Chern jerked upright, distracted from his digging. He looked up at the circle of dim light at the entrance to his fresh burrow.

"What is that I hear? The shriek of power. Someone of my kind is flexing their capabilities..."

With a booming snap of his fingers, Chern silenced the echoes of Su'ule's mighty scream.

"I will not be made to cower before your might, o foreign god."

The Wiltwatcher returned to his digging, content that he had bestowed the gift of Chern upon the upstart.

Hinder Su'ule's create Sorcery action

+4 decay, since it relates to the draining of energy.

Nothing should be above decay. Chern will place restrictions on the lengths a sorcerer can go in channelling their magic, such that overexerting their sorcery can leave them temporarily drained both in body and in spirit. Basically I'm adding mana bars, which is probably fair enough for any magic system so don't hate me.

[Godzillarich]

-20 AP to create The Law of Sorcery.

Grawissen: Speaker of the Forgotten, Ebonbark Bay

25/25 AP

As he worked in his tunnels he suddenly felt a strange sensation. Magic... "Well, this seems to be the creation of new knowledge." he thought of the ramifications of this in his lair... " I will help but when I call upon your aid Su'ule you better be ready to repay the debt..."

+2 knowledge, will help it make it a beautiful act, immense intelligence is gained by studying it, the creation of knowledge magic, able to store thoughts and ideas. + 2 mining, its spiritual form would almost resemble a cavern producing magical crystals onto the physical world that can only be accessed by mining, they glow like light bulbs giving the underground a light system.

[Mira_124]

Su'ule, Mother Of Sorcery In The Gnaw Wastes

-20 AP to create The Law of Sorcery.

Opulon, 23/25 AP, Boa Jungle

As soon as she finished speaking to the minds of her small group of pygmies, Opulon sensed a familiar feeling in the air. The distant sounds of a voice drift around her, entwined with a power similar to her own, and she feels... Something growing, a new form of magic.
"Ah... Magic. I see I'm not the only one to have landed in this strange place. I wonder how many others there are, and what they are up to...", she quietly spoke to herself, eyes affixed to the sky.
Opulon reaches out mentally, finding the mind of the deity who was the source of the magic, and speaks to her."I do not know what you plan to do with this new magic, Su'ule, but I will aid you. The people deserve magic as much as we do. Try to not let them get carried away?"

In her heart, Opulon believes that magic should be available to all sentient beings, especially if it allows them to read the stars like she does. Hearing the voices from above brings her endless joy and she longs to spread that ability to as many as possible. Perhaps even a few mortals will show talent in foretelling the future.
+2 Divination in the hopes that the magic allows people to read the future, +2 Cosmology to allow as many as possible to hear and understand the stars' stories. (If the magic is truly the voice of Su'ule, Opulon hopes that the people can use the magic to not only hear the stars, but communicate with them.)

[Maryring]

Petr, 25/25 AP, Stonesthroe Mountain

Petr rests upon one of several snowclad mountaintops. A place cold, where water lies as a white blanket upon the stone. Petr picks up a small handful of snow. Clutches it, then lets it drift back down to the ground. Flowing like a river, Petr's essence shifts down the mountainside towards a basin of water. Water is life, and in this instance it is the life of a tribe of Neanderthals. A most peculiar kind they are. They build, create, think, dream. Petr could spend centuries just looking at them, occasionally offering a gentle touch, a nudge towards water, or a brush to steal away their pain. But in the end, the observation lasted only a few far too short moments.

A tidal wave of power ripples through the world. A desire. A claim. A statement of how the world should work. But Water, strong though it may be, does not easily break a wall of stone. Nor does a will, even a Divine Will, break reality so easily. It could pass, and likely nothing would change. But here, Petr senses an opportunity.

First, Petra of water seizes ahold of the wave of power. She brushes a hand through it, guiding and shaping it. Taking part of the pure will to harden like water to ice. A principle to help bind the law of sorcery to the domain of water. Invoke the signs of Water, and Petra will permit the law of sorcery to manipulate water. To freeze it and boil it. To move and still it.

Second. Peter of healing binds the law of sorcery to that of the physical body and mind of those that live. With this bond, the Law of Sorcery may restore that which was broken and torn. Flesh and bone, even mind and soul for those who understand the intricacies of restoration.

When the Law is invoked for these actions, Petr will offer assistance.

Petr uses their mastery of Healing and Water to create all spells that fall under the domains of Healing, or Water, or both. Thus a +4 to assisting.

The scream makes Petr painfully aware that there are others out there. Others with incredible power. Others who may not wish the world well. Observing the Neanderthals will have to wait. For now, it is time to act. Petr flows down the rivers from the mountains, watching the splits, bends, and meeting points. Small lakes of cool fresh melt-water. Small communities that spring up near the rivers. There are more Neanderthals, but also Humans. And who knows what might be further downstream. They need a gift. Something to help them when Petr isn't around to assist. Perhaps a small, simple gift to begin with. More can be given in time.

Create a basic living species (8 AP/4 DC)

+2 from both Healing and Water.

Petr seeds a new type of flower. The Icewater Lily. A flower that blooms in cold water. The petals are thick and solid, and the juices of it's flesh acts as a mild antiseptic.

[flyinglemur]

Dulnori:
In the great steppe, a power awakens, rising up from the cold soil. The gambler is born into this new age of change and potential. He wanders the steppes, watching, waiting, for something to peak his interest. Then he feels it. A great power pressing on the world, breaking and remolding it. He must heed this call to action. Dulnori takes hold of this feeling, and understands what it is, a chance, a promise, an opportunity for mere mortals to take control of their world. He must aid this power to blossom, but how?

He thinks about his travels, and what he's seen. Countless men wander the steppe, fighting desperately for survival. They struggle against the sun and the wind, but most of all they struggle against their hunger. The beasts here are strong, and hunting is limited, lest they forever run out of game. The people of the steppe live hard lives, and they deserve something better. They deserve the chance to take control of their own destiny, and rise to a greater place in this harsh land.

Dulnori speaks, and his words echo across the fabric of reality. People's of the land, hear my decree. With this new energy that flows through your world, you have a chance. Take control of the wilds. Tame the beasts that stalk you, command the roots and vines to grow at your pace. Enjoy my gift, and make sure it doesn't go to waste.

A new sub-class of magic is created, natural magic/shamanism/druidry etc. With this magic people can make animals friendlier and healthier, and encourage plants to grow.+2 Ambition, because magic as a whole gives people the opportunity to do much greater things. +2 Fortune, because natural magic will greatly improve the material condition of people, especially in the steppe.

[gac3]

Timorin: 25/25, Luscent Reef Arpeggio

Waking up alone on an island is rather boring. The pigmies kept Timorin busy for a short while but he quickly lost interest as nothing was happening here. They all were peacefully enjoying the beautiful island paradise. Where is the fun in that? Just foraging for food, catching some fish, and generally lounging about. Well Timorin felt the island needed a bit more pizazz.

For the bark of a nearby tree, beneath the sea he found the Luscent Reef that gave the islands their name. Carefully he picked out a piece of the reef that he transformed into a magnificent glowing crown. He then left the crown on the shore of the beach and left.

Shortly thereafter a pigmie wandered upon it as they strolled carelessly along the sandy beach. Finding that it seemed perfectly sized for their head, they placed it upon their head and returned to the small village they belonged in. Instantly they realized people were treating them differently. They were being asked more and more for advice and treated as a leader and looked at with great respect. They were granted the best food and waited on hand and foot. They were content and never took the crown off. But as the days drew on the others began to resent the crowned pigmie. They found their sight being drawn constantly to the glowing crown on their head. One night tensions finally break and several pigmies make attempts to kill the crowned pigmie. They fight for the crown until a new one places it atop their head. Then they begin being treated as a king and the cycle begins again.


Create Lesser Magic Item: -10 AP DC 6

The Lucent Crown is a cursed magic items. It makes you functionally king/queen over all those around you who serve you with great love and loyalty. However the longer you wear the crown, the more the emotions begin to tip in the opposite direction until finally your once loyal subjects betray you to take the crown for themselves.

[roll0] +2 Drama, +2 War

[Megadraco]

Kahar-Djin: 25/25 AP, The Cosmos

The cosmos is a vast, complex, chaotic web of light and darkness, motion and stillness, death and rebirth, nearly inscrutable to even a divine gaze. Yet, once every hundreds of years, a pattern emerges. The stars and planets align, the incandescence forming a path down to the realm of mortals. And down that path walked a masked, robed figure, a staff in their hand.

Kahar-Djin stopped in the path, and turned their head. A terrible, primal roar washed over them. It reverberated from mountain to mountain, and it kept getting louder as it moved from cloud to cloud and they took their hands to their ears and it didn’t stop as it bounced from planet to planet and he fell down to his knees and it kept getting louder and it wouldn’t stop as it traveled from star to star and she screamed as the world drowned in a cacophony of noise and fury and primal chaos that kept getting louder and would never ever-

"STOP!"

The roar subsided. Kahar-Djin stood, catching their breath, and listened. The roar had been shattered, divided into hundreds, perhaps thousands, of individual words and phrases. As they continued walking down the cosmic path, their meaning became clear to them. They were spells and rituals, Sorceries. Perhaps intended to be free and chaotic, they were now discrete units, fragments of sound and motion bound inexorably and eternally to individual effects… Or were they?

Kahar-Djin extended their domain and, probing at the sonic, magic and cognitive thresholds that bound each sorcery to itself, found them lacking, unable to fully resist the chaos within them. Undisturbed, they’d hold their own, but a being with enough time and dedication in their hands would be able to tie them all together, unlocking the full potential of the scream, if only for themselves. The divinity worried. It would take centuries, of course, but what were centuries in the lifespan of a god?

However, a more pressing issue soon occupied their mind. That power was unlike any a mortal could ever possess. No matter how many of them gathered, a mortal race would never be able to alter the universe in such a fundamental way. No, that Sound was the work of a god. So, there were others.

Hindering Su'ule's Creation of Sorcery action

+2 Thresholds, as the divisions between each sorcery was established.

In their panic, Kahar-Djin divided the primal scream into individual spells and rituals. Individual mortals can only access these discrete units. Only immortals that dedicate centuries to the task can obtain the ability to practice freeform magic.

[Demonjazz]

Alatadriel: 25/25 AP, The Beaches of Ebonbark Bay


Alatadriel had found herself on the black bank of an ocean. She yawned a mighty yawn, stretching her back on her four legs as a fox is want to do. Though it did perhaps look a bit silly for a naked, mostly human woman to do. "That was a good nap." She said to herself as she bounded along the shores. She remembered a whole lot more people living here when she fell asleep, but that didn't seem to bother her. As she walked proudly with her head held high across the banks it was not long before foxes gathered behind her in her steps. It was not much longer before the hooping and hollering of a band of huntsmen eager for food had found the strange naked woman.

The foxes started to scatter, but Alatadriel made a comforting motion to them. "Oh, hush you. Do you really think I'd let harm come to you? Sit!" She said forcefully. The foxes falling in line behind her.
"Well met, hunters! Her divine and iridescent elegance, Alatadriel has come yet again to grace you!" Small blue flames floated passively around her head.
The lead hunter with a leather shield and a spear stopped in his tracks. He fell to his knees, the troupe though confused fell into a hasty line behind him.
Alatadriel sauntered towards the troupe, she inspected them as one might expect a CEO to inspect a new intern. "Hmm, I'm glad to see that some remember me." She touched the lowered face of the leader, a large brutish man heavy with scars and what would at the time be considered a neatly trimmed beard. She carefully took her thumb and index finger and carefully lead the older man up to his knees. "Though it does not seem that all here do." She gestured to the confused members of the group.

"My queen!" The leader thumped his spear against his shield. "I can not believe you are truly here! My father and my father's father had told me that long ago, you lead our tribe to victory against the brutes of the south, I have kept the story true, and strong. But I did not-"
"Shhhh." Alatadriel took the man into a hug which he fell into. All at once the layers of strength and bravado he had put up fell away "There is no need to explain yourself to me. I missed you too." The man let out a sob as he fell into the goddess's open bosom. She stroked his curly hair gently like a mother to a child.
"I am sorry queen." He said in between sobs.
"Oh, I have moved up in the world, child. You may call me your god now."
"My goddess! I'm sorry to appear weak in front of you, but I am simply overcome with joy over your return!" He said wiping away a tear from his eye. "Most believed you would never return."
"Oh, there is nothing wrong with appearing weak, young one. A warrior must learn to feel before he can learn to fight. For what good is a soldier with no will. But right now, young one. You need to rise. I fear a new beginning is coming upon our people. Please explain to the others."
The Warrior still tears in his eyes got up to his knees and pointed his spear skyward. "Brothers, and sisters!" He shouted. "This is our true god! The one above all! The Divine, and Iridescent Alatadriel! The spirit of tamed fire! May we serve at her beck and call so that so she may lead us to another great age!"
The troupe raised their shields and spears to the sky. Making a great clatter on the beaches of Ebonbark. "My goddess! Shall we start the fires in your honor!" The leader shouted.
"Of course. We shall dance, and feast as you explain the many great inventions of your time."

The one they explained first was the new invention of clothing.


“So much to do, so much knowledge…” Grawissen thought to himself, as he digs through the caverns. So many bones here, so many with interesting stories. Bones of fish, reptiles, insects, arachnids, birds, mammals and any other animal group can think of. All of them so very in shape and size some of them repeat some of the bones of creatures he already found, some new beautiful wonderful species, all of them equally important. “So many stories…” Just then he heard a calling, it was a being similar to him. While he did know he needed to be wary of said beings the curiosity naturally got to the God of knowledge. So he dug up until he came to the surface. A letter waited for him, sealed with a kiss calling for a meeting between the two.

Grawissen has found himself in the abode of Alatadriel. A secluded grove deep in the forests of the Ebonbark Bay. Foxes played among the bright blooms there or dutifully helping Alatadriel prepare for her guest. Alatadriel handled a primitive ceramic kettle over a fire pit. "I am sorry. I'd normally have the place a bit more spruced up, but you see, the carpenters still haven't quite gotten a hold of the wood here, so I've been having to use stone for most of my furniture." Alatadriel sat down on a rock, wriggling uncomfortably on the surface as she poured two cups of tea on the large stone slab that served as a table. A fox jumped in her lap, covered by a primitive fur loincloth. She absentmindedly scratched behind the creature's ears. "Tea, truly a miraculous invention by humanity, I might add. Leaves steeped in water to create a magnificent brew."
She took a sip and sighed. "Ah, but no time for pleasantries. I called you here for business and I'm sure you are busy as well. You see, I've hit a roadblock. I'm trying to create a race of foxes." She said pulling out a large sheet of papyrus with detailed biology of a fox. This one appeared to be breathing fire. "To keep the fires you see. Humans are quite good at it, but perhaps a bit forgetful. And it's been coming along great, except for one thing." She pointed a location on the sheet where the brain of a creature had normally gone. "It's dreadful to admit but I've been having some trouble with making them appropriately smart."

This Fox being filled him with curiosity, nothing of the bones he found so far pointed to evolution leading to Alatadriel, then again there was nothing leading to his own creation seemed to naturally go with evolution. This being however but a strange proposal, to create life, he pondered demand. “Okay, I will but I want three things out of it,” he said as he picked up some rocks. “One I want you to help me make a mighty tool, a pickax that could carve rocks with perfect position to help me in my search for knowledge, secondly I will ask you for help in creating my own race when I ask for it, and thirdly the race I helped create with you strange fox will cherish knowledge. If you accept this and I will help you.”
and this is after your post

Alatadriel tapped on the side of her cup. "Three for the price of one? That's pretty steep don't you think?" She sipped on her tea. "I can hand my fires to your tool, and foxes already cherish knowledge. But I expect something else in return when I come to the aid of your new race. In other words, you will owe me." Alatadriel tilted her head quizically scratching her chin. "That is still 2 for 1 though is it not? How silly of me. All should be equal among friends. I did think that perhaps they would be of help to allow them to dig well into the earth. So that they may hide from prying eyes. Perhaps I should leave the claws up to you as well so that we may be certain that we are equal?"

Grawissen pondered this for a bit. “Agreed your foxes will be welcomed beneath the earth and I will assist you again…” He then paused again, holding a conversation out in the blistering sun was not a comfortable experience, he was not used to the light. “... As long as it’s something that I would not think of as repulsive but I will repay your debt.”

"No, of course not. I am after all a benevolent, and caring god. I would never commit any deplorable acts. I am after all a god of the people."

the skeleton being then reached out his hand offering to shake, "Then it is agreed"

Alatadriel shook the strange creature's arms. "Then it is agreed"

Divine Action: Create a collection of lesser magical minons. 12AP/8 DC

Alatadriel seeks to create The Hua-Ling, Vulpine Vestals to tend to her fires. These adorable creatures appear as nothing more than a normal fox but are particularly cunning able to articulate what they have seen. They eat various woods and then contain them in a special organ in which rages a fire. They're able to expel this fire at any moment to varying degrees of intensity. They are also subtly more beautiful than a normal fox

+2 knowledge: this Fox race will cherish the knowledge of the earth, all that they find they will study and love. Mining +2: the ground will welcome them and give them skills to dig complex tunnels for the cities

[Godzillarich]

Grawissen: Speaker of the Forgotten, Ebonbark Bay
After his conversation with Alatadriel, he wandered the forest taken in by its beauty. "“Such fascinating life…” Grawissen mumbled to himself as he examined one of the trees. "“... The surface is so much more colorful and vibrant….” Just then he saw weird animal, it was a baby elephant ( although at this point Grawissen had no idea what that was) peering from the bushes. "“... A little one, what is your name?” he asked as he reached out his hand. Suddenly the little one ran off deep into the forest. "“Stop little one…” Grawissen yelled as he slowly pursued, trying his best not to knock over anything. He was led to a river, bigger versions of the little one walked about and drank from the river. "“Fascinating…” He said to himself as he took a mental note of the situation. "“...this seems like a good place to study…” He thought to himself "“... But first I must create my Tool...”

He remembered back earlier Alatadriel with what she helped make for him

earlier that day

Alatadriel brought Grawissen to a clay furnance. To Alatadriel it seemed pitiful to the one that she had planned, but while small the design would be startling to most other members of the world except perhaps Vreyalas's land. It was what would later be called a bloom furnance, an insulated chimney which had several different pipes running throughout so that air could add to the fire. Alatadriel's various tools laid out on a table next to Grawissen. She handeded the dinosaur a black sooty rock. "Sorry, we are still making improvements on the furnance. We are hoping that we could nake some sort of device to somehow be able to expel large amounts of air into the fire instead of having to rely on a natural wind. Now, if you want a high quality metal though. It's important that you use this rock. It's called charcoal. It's a kind of rock made from burnt wood. It's fairly hard to make so it we don't have a lot, but we should have enough for your pick axe. Now the bloom from the furnance though. That's the, uh, iron that you're melting right. It's going to come out a bit softer than what you're used too, but if you keep working it afterwards, you should be able to remove most of the impurities, and have it come out much stronger than what other furnances could make."
The Hua-Ling, the fire breathing fox that Grawissen had helped make laid at his beck, and call. They started to gather charcoal in pit of the furnance, and one chewing a large piece of mahogany hopped to the furnance, the creature squared it's shoulders and took in a great draught of air, an unmistakble sparking sound heard as it lit the fire with it's spewed breath.
present day
With the furnace a pickax was made but Grawissen was not done yet. Still need to imbue it with his power. "Help me with this item and this pickax will serve you as it serves me. he called out to the other gods.

16 AP/12 DC:Create a +2 domain religious artefact:Grawissen’s Pickax +2 architecture
https://vignette.wikia.nocookie.net/runescape2/images/4/4f/Mithril_pickaxe_detail.png/revision/latest?cb=20180713214606

Mining+2: Mighty pickax is designed to carve swaths of caves areas quickly and delicately, making sure not to damage anything of interest like fossils or gems and make sure is the cabins are extremely sturdy.

Knowledge +2 the pickax is able to detect where forgotten or noteworthy elements are and can help find out what exactly is dug up.


Alatadriel lends her furnance, and fox helpers to Grawissen to make his tools. +2 from the fire, and another +2 from the Hua-Ling hands.

[Demonjazz]

Alatadriel: AP 13/25, A Secluded Grove

Alatadriel sat in her grove. It was beautiful as always, She'd even made some minor improvements in her abode... There was now a single wooden chair.
It was a pretty comfy chair to be fair. It rocked back and forth. Quite enjoyable.
Oh, and there was a patch of grass where there were a bunch of leaves to sleep in... Definitely not the Goddess of House Design.

She was drafting out designs for what would later become a bellows when she heard IT. The shout heard across the world, a scream of primal energy echoing across the plane. She could sense that another god, a dangerous upstart sought to give to the rest of the world the powers that the gods had...
Alatadriel sat still. Unsure of what to do. She thought that she'd have some time before this echo would take full effect. She had quickly brought in the leader of the tribe to have a quick talk.
"Ormotag. How much faith do you have in your fellow man?" Alatadriel said very seriously.
"Man as a whole? Trust enough that I would not kill a man on sight. But I would not welcome him into my home."
"Imagine now, Ormotag, though it might be quite hard too. If man had access to abilities like... Mine. To create from nothing. Though lesser, unwieldy, hard to control, much more limited for mortals."
"To spawn fire without fuel?"
"Yes, that would be an example."
"A great deal could be done. You would no longer need to harvest the trees for wood, furnaces would be powered by man creating even stronger metals, we would never be cold. We'd be able to create great works of art from the abundance of metal, new weapons of war, artists able to carefully warp metals to make sculptures."
"Yes, I am aware."
Ormotag pounded his spear on the ground. "But fights. They would not be eloquent! It would no longer be only the might of a man against the other! It would be the might of fire against fire. Plains deadened, fire flung at your enemies, villages burnt to the ground, battlefields clouded in smoke, men choking to death before they even hit the van, skin melted, the might of fire is dangerous as it is necessary for life."

Alatadriel sat. Remembering her early days as a firekeeper before man. She remembered the plain catching fire and the terrible screaming of creatures running through the flames. The plain barren and dead for decades afterward.
She sat silent for a moment. "Thank you for your help Ormotag. You have done a great deed for mankind today." She took the leader back to his home as she floated into the sky. Hearing the echo return she reached out into the primordial energy of the sorcery. From a certain point of view, all energy was naught but fuel for a flame. A flame that she could light.

Alatadriel has set your magic on fire. A -2 Hinder from fire that has burnt away Sorcery's usefulness on the element. Mortals cannot manipulate the Fire Domain nor does their magic have an effect on it beyond that which the physical objects they summon would.

[gac3]

Timorin: 15/25, Luscent Reef Arpeggio

You could feel the magic reverberating through the world as some force tried to give it form. The energy was invigorating but so limited. Timorin gave it a little push and helped guide it. The limits on the power were so mundane with the way they burned through the users. But let us give those limits a spin and see how things go. Magic should belong to all and the ability to get stronger should always be available, Timorin thinks. "You owe me great sorcerer." He makes the most flexible with how it interacts with the body, able to strengthen and modify it.

Still not quite sure what I should say above.

Idea is making the magic function like Mist from final fantasy 12. Strong in some areas, making magic easier and more flexible and weak in other areas, making it harder. All beings have access to the Mist (think force) and upon death, their Mana is released, strengthening an areas natural mist levels. So sites of great battles or slaughters would be high in mist wile peaceful places may be devoid. If this doesn't make sense, I will fix after I have slept

+2 War towards the creation of sorcery.

School: Not sure a name, but transmutation might be the closest. The premise of my school is being able to feed Mana into your body for enhanced strength or night vision or super hearing. Stuff like that.

[The JoJo]

Avestra, 15/25 AP, Lucent Reef Archipelago

Avestra soared on the warm currents above the Lucent Reef Archipelago, finding herself back in the place her consciousness had first emerged. The warm blue waters, pockmarked with green islets, provided welcome relief after the colder climes she had flown from. Unfortunately, she had not been heartened by her first foray across the globe.

The tallheads, as the Crow People had called them, had spread across the majority of the known world. That in itself was not a problem, except their sheer numbers were already putting pressure on the great beasts of every continent, not to mention the other human species who were slowly being pushed to the sidelines. Their raw intellect allowed them to overcome the usual checks and balances that kept a population stable, and if Avestra knew one thing, it was that tipping the balance of nature was a risky thing. Who knew where the world would end up?

Then, she heard a cry reverberating around her, joined shortly by several more voices. There were more of her kind. This was new information which would potentially shape her plans. For now, though, she saw that her fellow deities were attempting to create a new layer of reality. Magic. She decided there was little chance of stopping so many other gods, and so instead, decided to give nature a tool to fight back with. And perhaps also those few mortals who were willing to live in harmony with the natural word.


Help the creation of sorcery with the addition of a new school of magic, Treewhispering. (+2 Nature, +2 Birds)

Treewhispering is a magical ability that trees use to communicate with each other, regardless of kind. A solitary tree will have little use for this ability, but in a forest, it allows the quick transmission of information about weather conditions, disease or even forest fires so that some preemptive action can be taken, however slight. These signals can be learned by tree-dwelling species, in particular birds, who have a symbiotic relationship with their giant hosts. In return for transmitting avian messages within a single forest, birds can carry information between isolated trees too far from each other to directly communicate, or even between separate forests, forming a truly global network.

Treewhispering is also an art can be learned by sapient mortals, though it is a notoriously difficult field of magic to master. The best window of opportunity is the first few years of life, when the brain is primed to learn language. Even without instruction, a small child growing up within a forest may pick up some of the subtle ways the trees pass messages to one another. Once that short window has passed, however, it takes many years of hard study and living among trees to begin to grasp its intricacies. Fluent treewhisperers are not only able to understand the trees themselves, but are also able to hijack the channels which birds use to communicate to send their own messages to each other.

[Batcathat]

Ymon-Thal, 13/25 AP, Boa Jungle
Still hazy from trying to touch the minds and wombs of so many people Ymon-Thal was resting, each of him sitting at the top of an enormous tree.

Suddenly Ymon-Thal both felt it, rather than heard it. A scream and the rules of reality seemingly starting to twist in response to it.

"Someone else..." said Ymon.

"We are not the only one" agreed Thal.

Instinctively they realized what was happening, a way for mortals to play around with creation itself a little bit.

"Seems fun!"

"You think everything seems fun."

Ymon shrugged and took an entirely unnecessary breath before getting to work. He reached out to the twisting threads of reality and lending it a spark of his own connection to life.

"Very well." Thal said and sighed. "Life and death must always be balanced." He mirrored Ymon's action, letting death follow life into the fray.

When the spark of life embedded itself in the still unwritten rule of reality Ymon-Thal felt something... life-adjacent within it. Something prolonging life and delaying death. Ymon smiled and Thal frowned. Where did it come from?

Trying to follow it to it's source Ymon-Thal's shapes faded from the jungle, instantly reappearing on a snowy mountaintop.

"Greetings" Ymon-Thal said to the deity before him. "I am Ymon-Thal, god of Life and Death."

Forward as always, Ymon added: "I feel you are a defender of life, are you not? Would you help bring thousands and thousands of new lives into the world?"


Ymon-Thal helps with the creation of sorcery, lending it the ability to effect life and death. Both domains apply so +4 but I'm unsure whether his weakness does, on one hand sorcery might not count as being alive but it feels more alive than, say, a rock. I leave it up to GM-judgement wether my help count as +4 or +2.


For those who didn't follow the discussion on Discord, that's Petr's mountaintop in the Stonesthroe Mountains Ymon-Thal teleported to.

[gac3]

Timorin: 15/25, Luscent Reef Arpeggio

Another force reverberated throughout and Timorin felt the call to help in the creation of a mystic and powerful.... Pickaxe... Seriously? Do these people have no imagination? Sending a wave of assistance Timorin adds a little flair to the pickaxe. "Remember this boring one."


+2 to the pickaxe creation from Drama.
Since it is a artifact of architecture, it can not be used to make a mundane structure. The will always have a weird quirk. Maybe it creates a giant sphere castle that rolls and rolls but the inside stays still. Maybe the buildings lean at impossible angles. It will vary with each use.
Edit: Apparently it's for caverns. So maybe the caverns have weird patters like moving snake carvings and other odd stuff like that. Or they go up on the inside above where they possibly could go on the outside.

[Megadraco]

Kahar-Djin, 25/25 AP, Ebonbark Bay

Kahar-Djin stepped off the celestial path, and their feet touched the ground for the first time. They walked on the dark, rich soil, and looked around the stormy floodplain. In the distance there was a forest, and downstream the river opened up into a vast ocean. They saw black beaches and ebony cliffs.

And, in the distance, they heard screams.

Kahar-Djin rushed to their source, holding her shield up against the strong storm winds, and rapidly found it. They saw a small village struggling against the storm. Some of them were trying to keep the tents in place, while others were trying to keep the children and elderly safe, to keep the wind from spiriting them away. A tent got picked up by the storm, and a man shouted. A child split from the group, and cried as the wind began to push him back.

Kahar-Djin stepped forward, raising her shield ever higher, reflecting a flash of lightning. The reflected light twisted around her, and then rushed around the village, creating a circle of light that extended to the heavens. The storm stopped, the wind settling down. The villagers looked in awe at the circle, and once it vanished, they were surprised to see that outside the village, the storm kept going, the wind blowing and the rain, but not a single drop of either was touching them. Around the village was a circle of stone, fused into the ground, runes embedded in it.

“Worry no more, people of this village,” she said. “I have drawn a protective circle around us. Never again shall a storm or a flood touch this place, it shall be safe from the ravages of nature.”

A young man broke away from the group and approached the divinity, awe in his eyes as he gazed upon her brilliant armor. He bowed his head, and spoke.

“Thank you, divine one, for this blessing. May I ask your name?”

“You may call me Kahar-Djin. I must leave now, to explore his place, but before, I must ask. What is your name, young warrior?”

The man looked puzzled for a second, as if wondering how she knew he was a warrior, but then stood straight.

“My name is Bron.”

6 AP / 3 DC: Influence a village-sized are.

Kahar-Djin drew a Threshold (+2) around the village, protecting it from the inclemencies of weather.

[Maryring]

Peter lies at the mouth of a gentle river. In his hands he collects water, clutches his fist close, and when he opens it there is another flower. Countless flowers already drift upon the gentle waves. Countless more still need to be made for a sustainable population. But for now there's a break, for now there's a guest. Or rather, guests.

"Welcome." The voice trills like water rushing against pearls. Fellow immortals. It is a pleasure to meet you." He stands up tall. Snow has woven a tunic of frosted white and icy blues over his form, leaving only the head and hands free. They are white and soft to the touch. "I am Peter. And you are correct that I hold myself close to life. Life was born in Water, and so I find my duty to allow it to endure." He rubs his chin thoughtfully. "And You are the beginning and end of that which lives. I think I felt Your touch during the earlier wave of energy washing across the world. Ah, but I am distracting Us from Your question. You wish to bring new Life into the world?" Peter closes his eyes for a moment, extending his awareness briefly in consideration. "A multitude of twins... yes. Yes I do wish to assist. I will extend My touch, entwine it with Yours. I will ease their burdens and ensure a smooth delivery for the children. All I ask in return is that once they are born, I will want to grant them a gift." A statement only half true. Twins are a painful burden to bear, and though the desire to offer a follow up gift is true, the assistance is not contingent upon Ymon-Thal's acceptance. AAlready now, Peter scoops up a handful of water and blows gently upon it, creating small bubbles that float out across the world, adding a blessing of good health to the blessing of new life.

Providing a +2 from Healing domain to Ymon-Thal's influence attempt

[AlexanderML]

Yir 25/25 AP, Above All, Gazing Below on the Stonesthroe Mountains

The glorious sun awoke into full sentience, gazing down below on the pathetic mortals that lie beneath it's golden majesty; from the tops of the harsh peaks where Yir's light barely gave comfort, to the lower valleys where it's light gave life. Looking down on this steered a mixture of feelings in Yir, mainly the desire to guide them to it's will, and the desire to see them grow less flawed.

There were also immortals down below it, those that had power comparable, yet far lesser (it'd say), to it's own magnificence.


The Primal Scream of Sorcery:

While gazing below thinking on what it should do, Yir heard Su'ule's scream given up onto the heavens and felt the power that was unleashed by the enormous act. If the first witch looked up onto the sky, she'd see the sun shine brighter than normal, for Yir resonated with their voice. Not even acknowledging the falsehood of the statement, it spoke.

"My majesty and glory shall aid this, for in it all who look up into the sky shall find MY power and be in awe!"

Yir shall aid the creation of sorcery by resonating with the primal scream, becoming a beacon of magical energy that mortals can draw upon through their magic. Essencially, Solar Magic.

Solar Magic: Yir is somewhat conforming to (but also straying from) Kahar-Djin's hinder in that mortals can call upon the magic of the sun to give blessings, as long as they follow purity rites they may use Yir's light to cast magic with some spontaneousness in the effects the magic-user is looking for. The major downsides to using this sort of magic is that it cannot be used at night, underground, or anywhere where the sun does not shine (long-term Solar magic weakening in these conditions), and one has to live a 'pure' life style (though purity is defined mostly by culture, Yir's viewpoint is a part of this).

Aiding the creation of Sorcery with +2 Sun and +2 Majesty


On The Highest Peak:

Ner'ah saw the world below him with the dawn, vast gulfs of snow, earth, and lakes lined with rivers that eventually faded away into a world of green. He had seen parts of this for his whole life, but had never climbed up so high as to see the whole of his home.

Something had called him and, as he had seen traveling here, others to try and reach the highest of peaks. What surprised the young Mighty Man (neanderthal) was that even Small Folk (humans) from the Green Lands had come, if fewer in number to the Mighty Folk. Not everyone who had journeyed had made it, but a surprising amount had considering how heavy the sky weighed on their chests.

As the day went on, Ner'ah began to see the true magnitude of what was occurring, for while a hundred souls had traveled to the peak of peaks, whole tribes where traveling nearby.

When the sun had reached the highest point in the sky, Ner'ah and the others nearby had their eyes drawn to it almost instinctively. It was glorious, the light that shown down onto the world was both majestic and life giving. It then spoke.

"You who have traveled here to see me upon these peaks have heeded a sacred call. Take the first sign of MY blessing and power. For I shall be like a father and mother to all of you and to those that descend from you. Know that I am Yir, the light above all."

Ner'ah and the others were then blessed with the power of divine light.

I did not want to finish the post until I see if Yir succeeds or not. He is trying to influence a little under 10,000 people, to create the Blessed of Yir (or the First Giants), a sub-race of neanderthals and humans that are noticeably larger/tougher than normal people of their kind (~9ft tall), with golden colored eyes. If this works then Yir's blessing breeds true, but becomes a recessive trait if one of the blessed creates a child with a normal member of their species. They grow to full size only if they get plenty of sunlight, those that stay underground or indoors during the day grow stunted compared to those that spend the majority of their days in the sun due to mundane biology.

Action: Influence a town of mortals
AP Cost: 10
DC: 6
Bonuses: +2 Sun, +2 Majesty

[Godzillarich]

Grawissen: Speaker of the Forgotten, Ebonbark Bay

9/25 AP

The elephants walked along a large path as Grawissen follow along. "“They seem like they are the traveling type travel…” Grawissen thought to himself as he pursued the elephants, still taking visual notes on the behavior. He then stopped himself and something caught his eye, a glimpse of a being that felt similar to Alatadriel. "“Another my kind...?” he thought to himself. "“... What is there story?”

Kahar-Djin was looking at the elephants, his staff in hand, extending their domain, analyzing the migratory paths of the large beasts. It was quite an interesting behaviour, and they were taking mental notes for other ways they could be applied when his sight snagged on something. A strange... Bone creature, somehow moving of its own volition. An undead...? No. Something different, higher. Something... Divine.

Both of the gods simply stared at each other, it was a mixture of fascination and extreme awkwardness. "“So you’re another one of us…” Grawissen asked, breaking the silence as he walked closer. "“... I would assume there wasn’t just two but this is still a fascinating sight to see.”

The divinity looked at the other god in his... eyesockets.

"Oh, there's many more than that. You certainly must have noticed that hideous roar that passed over the world, right? Because I kept analyzing its fragments, and while it came primarily from one divine being, I noticed the influence of many gods."

"Ha ha ha so that’s what was...” Grawissen last as he patted Kahar-Djin on the back. "...there’s so much still to learn…” he then turns over to look at the elephants. "“... Large and small.” Grawissen reached into his rib cage. “I know we’ve just met but let me ask you something…” he then pulled out his pickax. "“... I’m trying to categorize the forgotten, the knowledge of the world but having some trouble digging it out hands…” He then placed the pickax into Kahar-Djin hand. "...help me construct my tool and I will owe you a debt.”

Kahar-Djin held the pickaxe in their hands, analyzing it. With their domain over Thresholds, they could see its limitations, while the pickaxe's Path showed, indeed, that its purpose was one of knowledge. However, they also noticed a strange thing, a trace of a different divine power. Something... Unpredictable and chaotic, though not as primal as the roar. This was a carefully planned chaos, the contradiction only contributing to it. They said as much to their fellow god.

"Did you know about this?"

Grawissen shook his head, "I did not think would be a problem, I never stay in one place in the caves below. In fact, this is my first time on the surface.

"Regardless, at some point in the future you might wish to return to one of your caverns, and this... Trick, of sorts, might make that rather difficult. But not if I can help it." Kahar-Djin raised his staff and brought it down with a mighty slam. The elephants scattered, abandoning their paths. The divinity extended their domain, collecting the discarded Paths and wrapping them around the ax's handle in an intricate pattern that would be completely invisible to mortal eyes.

"There. It is done. The one who holds this ax shall never find themselves lost in any tunnel it creates, or, for that matter, any tunnel created with mundane tools." They handed the ax back to Grawissen, and looked him in the eyes again.

"I find the pursuit of knowledge to be a noble thing, and am always willing to encourage it. Consider this a gift, with no strings attached."

Grawissen grab the pickax and put it back in his rib cage. "“I thank you…” He then turned his attention to the ground. “... I hope our next meeting is as pleasant as the last.” And with that, he started digging disappearing into the earth.

+2 Paths, that the holder of the pickaxe will never get lost in any tunnels created by the pickaxe or any mundane tools.

[flyinglemur]

Dulnori, 23/25 AP, Harken Steppe

Dulnori took to traveling again. He wandered the steppes, watching the people hunt with their primitive tools. They were skilled, but skill could only do so much against the great beasts.

One day in his wanderings he came across something new hidden in the earth. It was a metal he had never seen before, colored a beautiful bronze-red. He took this metal from the earth, and went on his way.

The next day he came across another metal, it was colored a wonderful white. He took this metal from the earth, and went on his way.

The next day he investigated his new prizes. They were very pretty, but he wondered what they might be useful for. Then he seized on a brilliant idea. "Lets see what happens if I fuse them together." He did just that, and created another new metal, colored a magnificent orange-brown. He saw that it was much harder than its components, and was well pleased with this result, which he soon dubbed bronze.

The next day he came across a village. It was a small village, that he had seen only once before. They had been attacked by ravenous sabertooths, but somehow manage to survive. He realized that these people would be the perfect testers of his new invention, so he hatched a plan. He made javelins, tipped with bronze. He then decided that such magnificent weapons deserved more than just a casual toss, so he also created the amentum. This was a leather device, that could hook onto the javelins allowing them to be thrown much farther or with a greater stability, depending on how it was wielded. He approached the village bearing his gifts, and a challenge.

"I am Dulnori. I know you're all mighty hunters, and I'd like you to try your hands at greater prey." He handed them their new weapons. "These are much better tools than anything you've every used before, and I'll let you keep them, if you can kill a certain animal." The bravest of the hunters spoke, "And what animal would that be stranger?"

"Me". He took the form of a great rhinoceros, the first time he ever did, and the chase was on. It was a brutal contest, Dulnori was much stronger than any usual animal, but then again, the hunter's weapons were stronger than any others as well. After hours of hunting Dulnori fell, and the humans approached his body. Of course, they couldn't really kill a god, but they proved they could take down a beast of power and magnitude beyond anything they had faced. He changed into human form, and guided them back to their village.

Dulnori was a bit careless in this display however, and was soon noticed by another power of the steppes.

Influencing a small group of mortals by giving them the first bronze javelins, and the amentum (~10) 2AP/DC 1
+2 Fortune, for giving the village such powerful gifts/Auto-success. AP left: 23

[El'the Ellie]

Vreyalas, 25/25 AP, Stonesthroe Mountains

The Stonesthroe Mountains were a brutal place, for the unprepared. Wind whipped through the valleys and across the slopes of the mountain, kicking up snowstorms and cutting through all but the stones of the mountains. Among this cold, two humans huddled together for warmth: they had nothing to speak of, but even at its basest self, a creature can share and give its warmth. Alone, these two humans were cold and vulnerable. Together, they dared to dream of fending off the wind.

The stars aligned. Quite literally. Between these two humans a blinding flame sparked to life. The light was too bright to look upon at first, but when it died down the humans saw a being that made them drop to their knees. A golem of metal, twisted and wrought with perfection. Vreyalas had been born.

"Rise, mortals. You desire for companionship is a glorious thing. Alone, you will struggle and live destitute lives, but together, you will be great. Together you shall be greater than the sum of your parts, and forge something new. Not only will you survive in this world by caring for each other, you will thrive in it. Go, for now. I have designs for this world. Trust in each other, pick the other up when they fall, for they will do the same for you."

Vreyalas' first words to humans were brief, because he sensed a presence. No, not one, but several. And the echos of a resounding scream that shook the magical fabrics of this world.

"So, I am not alone. Good. But this magic that is meant for mortals... It is powerful, but dangerous. A tool. These mortals are lovely, but they are also foolish. Perhaps together, they can exert more control..."

Vreyalas grabbed several strands of magic from the Ether. Twisting them like bands of metal, he tied half of them into a chain and watched as it propagated back into the Scream of Su'ule. The remaining strands he kept for himself. Weaving them into the metal and earth around him, Vreyalas joined the baser forms of magic and the material. The other gods, no doubt, could shape magic into a physical form, but why should they alone be given that power. "Let us see what wonders mortals can craft."

Vreyalas will help the creation of Sorcery by adding two variations:

Ritual Magic: Magic can be performed by mortals together, not just in isolation. It is typically harder to produce a spell to be performed by many (and takes longer to cast) but the effects are always greater (or more controlled, longer lasting, etc). If a mortal's spell can make someone fly, for instance, many powerful mages working in tandem might be able to raise a town off the ground.

Artificing: Magic can now be wrought into physical objects. This is different from enchanting (where someone who can cast spells can imbue that into an object): anyone, even those that can't innately cast spells, can craft something with magical effects with the proper materials, reactions, and by inscribing the right glyphs.

Since this uses Community and Forging, I help with a +4

While Vreyalas worked, the first couple prospered. The worked together and, as Vreyalas promised, they were protected from the worst that the mountain could throw at them. While one hunted for food, the other felled trees to make a shelter. While one made a fire to keep warm, the other turned the pelts of animals into clothes. Soon, others saw this small cabin of trees. They felt the heat of a hearth coming from inside and felt a deep longing.

Each time someone found the cabin, either Shana or Thess would greet them. They invited the new comers to sit by the fire and warm themselves, eat the food they had to spare. And gradually, they began to help as well. Over time the people worked together and added a second hut alongside the first. Then a third. Then a fourth so large that it could hold a dozen people and had three spaces for fires. The people looked on in wonder at what they had done: none of them alone could have built such a house. Not even Shana and Thess, who were inseparable and strong, cold have made it together. They began to wonder: if ten of them could build a cabin dozens of feet long, what could twenty of them do? What could a hundred? What could a thousand?

Vreyalas was overjoyed to see these ambitions, this sense of companionship forming. And so he appeared to wandering humans as a wise man, aged but strong.

"There is a place where you can be warm. A place where humans work together. If you go you must help them, but in turn you can grow strong and old, like me. The place is called Theshana. It is the First City. Follow the smoke, to the edge of the valley." One by one he pointed the way, and one by one they joined the others in Theshana.

Named after its founding members, Theshana grew. Dozens of cabins sprang up: each one a labor of the community, and each one celebrated. People fell into tasks that they were well suited for: the most able-bodied hunted. The most dexterous made clothes. The most soothing fixed injuries or eased passings. Each could do more in one task than they ever could when they needed to do all of these themselves. They traded, spoke, fell in love, learned. In time, the people of Theshana made a new word: "excess". People no longer fought to survive every day, but dreamed, and planned, for the future.

Spending 10 AP to Influence a Town of Mortals to... well, create the first town, and to grant them prosperity.

+2 because this is community-related.

Vreyalas looked on Theshana and his heart swelled. These mortals worked hard, and were rewarded for it. But something bothered him... What was it?

Ah yes! The trees. They were... fine. These humans were clever to use the strong wood to block the wind and keep in the heat of fire. But eventually they would decay. Vreyalas considered how he could pull and shape metal and stone from nothing. Humans, of course, could not. It was locked in the earth. But Vreyalas had heard whispers on the wind of a god that could free metal from earth. So he went to him.

Ebonbark Bay

Vreyalas appeared before Grawissen as a silvered woman.

"Speaker of the Forgotten! I am called Vreyalas. It seems we may be able to work together.

Under my guidance, mortals on the Stonesthroe Mountains have formed a society, where together they prosper more than any of them could have alone. And yet... it rests upon wood. A concept so... temporary. I've seen the holes you have dug and metals you pulled from the earth, and that you showed mortals to do the same. I wish that my humans learn this, so that their houses be stronger, and last longer, and so that they do not fear the biting wind and blowing snow.

But I do not come empty handed. I have seen that you seek understanding of this world: a noble goal. A greater understanding leads to prosperity. The mortals in my domain, my... society, can grow old. And before they die, they can pass what they know on to their children. And them onto their children. Because each needn't focus on surviving, mortals can preserve knowledge from one generation to the next. Not only this, but they may share what they know with each other. A hundred, a thousand people working together to understand. And though some may die, the collective does not forget.

I propose that exchange: I show your people to form collectives, and you show mine to reap the metals and stones of the earth."

[Artemis P]

The scream rent the sky, as the power in the world changed, fabrics of reality spinning, sorting, changing, in ways both predictable and unpredictable. And then it was joined, by one, then two, then four, and more, each adding power and strength.... and change, to the words. And in that change, in that one viciously powered scream, Nestellbam cowered, for the fear and pain this caused him was like a deific migraine, and it was all he could do to not succumb and be swept away. He threw up powers and defenses like a shell, against the words, hoping the power would sweep over him, leave him unchanged.

-4 to Preserve the Laws of Reality. The Harken Steppe, and the peoples of it, are unable to support magic, as all magic fails in the Steppe, while the peoples of the Steppe are immune to magic cast on them, but they themselves cannot cast magic either.

[sadatg]

Enheduannas' feet crunched upon the snow. Behind her, the wall of the ravine rose sheer and impassible, riddled with caves bored into its face. In those caves, stocky neanderthals huddled in fear. In front of her, a glowing river of lava flowed, waves of heat distorting the air above it.

It wasn't her the neanderthals huddled from, rather the imposing figure stood waist-deep in the lava itself, screaming. It was a mighty yell, shaking the bones of all present. Enheduanna watched the neanderthals of the cave, it wasn't enough that they cower in the face of such might. She stood to the side and gestured boldly to the screaming figure. Understanding her meaning the first of the neanderthals cautiously walked forward, into the biting cold. They approached until the heat of the lava started searing their flesh, looking to Enheduanna for guidance she simply nods and the neanderthal falls to their knees and bows deeply.

"Yes, this is right" intones Enheduanna and the rest of the neanderthals follow.


4 AP/2 DC: influence a large group of mortals (~100), influence a large landmark or building, scry a large landmark or building.

Influence the neanderthals of the pits of the maw to openly worship Su'ule. +2 devotion



Aiding the creation of sorcery: +2 Devotion:

Attempting to use sorcery may include a prayer to the gods. By default, the prayer is for Su'ule, but the devotee may dedicate the prayer to another god(s). The god(s) so beseeched are granted knowledge of the devotee's life and can choose to lend a portion of their own power to the devotee to complete the spell. If they find the devotee sufficiently worthy.

As the goddess of devotion Enheduanna hears all prayers intended for the non-divine and grants her power to any sufficiently devoted to their "god".

[Garjel_blah]

OOC

Just testing if rolls work outside of the roll thread: [roll0]

EDIT: woo it works! Probably won't make a rolling thread then.

Also might as well bump some of the resources from the first post:

Undetectable actions

Free/Instant: manifest avatar, teleport avatar, shapeshift avatar, interact with the world, perform inconsequential/non-divine magic, attempt to remotely contact other gods - general fluff and flavour basically.

1 AP/0 DC: influence one mortal (significantly alter the course of their life by compelling them to action, altering their body, killing them, etc.), scry one object or living creature (allows you to detect undetectable actions that happen within your scry, lasts until your next action or the end of the age).

2 AP/1 DC: influence a small group of mortals (~10), influence a small landmark or room, scry a small landmark or room, change the weather in a village-sized area.

4 AP/2 DC: influence a large group of mortals (~100), influence a large landmark or building, scry a large landmark or building.

6 AP/3 DC: influence a village of mortals (~1000), influence a village-sized area, scry a village-sized area, change the weather in a city-sized area.

8 AP/4 DC: change the weather in a state-sized area, create a basic living species (plant, fungus, micro-organisms), create a basic non-living substance.

10 AP/6 DC: influence a town of mortals (~10k), influence a town-sized area, scry a town-sized area, create an animal species, create one or a collection of lesser magical items (easy to both use and destroy, such as a magic carpet, health potion, invisibility cloak, etc.).

12 AP/8 DC: influence a city of mortals (~100k), influence a city-sized area, scry a city-sized area, create a collection of lesser magical minions (should be a reasonable match for most mortals, such as hellhounds, cherubs, horse-mounted Nazgul, etc.), immortalise a living creature or mortal, create a pocket dimension (must be bounded and unable to hold a population), reincarnate a mortal demigod.

14 AP/10 DC: influence one immortal, scry a state-sized area, create a single greater magical monster (should be challenging for even the best mortals to slay, such as a dragon, gorgon, fell beast-mounted Witch King, etc.), create a greater magical item (requires understanding of magic to use or destroy, such as a phylactery, enchanted weapons and armour, crystal ball, etc.), sanctify an area for +2 (max 4 per god).

Detectable actions

16 AP/12 DC: influence a state of mortals (~1M) or a small group of immortals (~10), influence a state-sized area, scry a country-sized area, induce a celestial phenomenon (comet, eclipse, aurora, etc.), create a sentient species, create a +2 domain religious artefact (max 3 per god).

18 AP/14 DC: influence a country of mortals (~10M), influence a country-sized area, scry a continent-sized area, create a plane of reality (can be unbounded and capable of sustaining a population), create a +2 domain/-2 weakness demigod (max 2 per god).

20 AP/16 DC: influence a continent of mortals (~100M), influence a continent-sized area, scry the entire planet, create a law of reality (such as a system of magic for mortals to use, or an objective morality), create a supernaturally gifted sentient species, assign a chosen people for +2 (1 per god).

22 AP/18 DC: influence every mortal on the planet, influence the entire planet, despoil a +2 sanctified area.

24 AP/20 DC: destroy a +2 artefact, confer a -2 weakness to a demigod, banish a god for a turn, announce a prophesy.

30 AP/24 DC: destroy a demigod, confer a -2 weakness to another god.

40 AP/30 DC: destroy a god.



Player
Deity
Domains/Weaknesses


Garjel_blah
Chern
+4 Decay, -2 Downtrodden


Godzillarich
Grawissen
+2 Mining, +2 Knowledge, -2 Unknown


Megadraco
Kahar-Djin
+2 Paths, +2 Thresholds, -2 Unexplored


Demonjazz
Alatadriel
+2 Fire, +2 Foxes, -2 Arrogance


The Jojo
Avestra
+2 Nature, +2 Birds, -2 Primeval


Batcathat
Ymon-Thal
+2 Life, +2 Death, -2 Unliving


El-the Ellie
Vreyalas
+2 Community, +2 Forging, -2 Darkness


Artemis P
Nestellbam
+4 Preservation, -2 Sanity


gac3
Timorin
+2 Drama, +2 War, -2 Fear


sadatg
Enheduanna
+2 Devotion, +2 Subjugation, -2 Autonomy


Mira_124
Opulon
+2 Cosmology, +2 Divination, -2 Focus


flyinglemur
Dulnori
+2 Fortune, +2 Ambition, -2 Stability


Maryring
Petr
+2 Water, +2 Healing, -2 Pain


DarthArminius
Su'ule
+2 Sorcery, +2 Monsters, -2 Willfulness


AlexanderML
Yir
+2 Sun, +2 Majesty, -2 Arrogance

[Garjel_blah]

Chapter 1, Turn 1 rolls

Chern (25 AP) - create glowloam (8 AP/4 DC), +4 Decay
[roll0]

Nestellbam (25 AP) - protect a small group of mortals (2 AP/1 DC), +4 Preservation
[roll1]

Opulon (25 AP) - mark a small group of mortals (2 AP/1 DC)
[roll2]

Su'ule (25 AP) - create sorcery (20 AP/16 DC), +2 Sorcery
Chern, -4 Decay, mana limits
Grawissen, +2 Knowledge/+2 Mining/-2 Unknown, magicite (notice I added Grawissen's -2 unknown weakness, I judged that since a new law of reality is being created it should be unknown for mortals)
Opulon, +2 Diviniation/+2 Cosmology, school of astrology
Petr, +2 Water/+2 Healing, school of water
Dulnori, +2 Ambition/+2 Fortune, school of nature
Kahar-Djin, -2 Thresholds, enforced spell structure
Alatadriel, -2 Fire, unstable school of fire
Timorin, +2 War, school of the warrior
Avestra, +2 Nature/+2 Birds, school of treewhispering
Ymon-Thal, +2 Life/+2 Death, school of necromancy
Yir, +2 Sun/+2 Majesty, school of radiance
Vreyalas, +2 Community/+2 Forging, group magic and school of enchantment
Nestellbam, -4 Preservation, weaken magic in the Harken Steppe
Enheduanna, +2 Devotion, boost magic with faith
[roll3]

Ymon-Thal (25 AP) - bless 100k mortals with twins (12 AP/8 DC), +2 Life
Petr, +2 Healing, gentle births
[roll4]

Avestra (25 AP) - protect a town of mortals (10 AP/6 DC), +2 Nature/+2 Birds
[roll5]

Petr (25 AP) - create icewater lily (8 AP/4 DC), +2 Healing/+2 Water
[roll6]

Timorin (25 AP) - create the Lucent Crown (10 AP/6 DC), +2 Drama/+2 War
You rolled a 22 in your post, which I will allow you to keep, but in the future I would prefer to do all the rolling

Alatadriel (25 AP) - create the Hua-Ling (10 AP/6 DC), +2 Fire/+2 Fox
Grawissen, +2 Knowledge/+2 Mining, burrowing foxes
[roll7]

Grawissen (25 AP) - create Grawissen's Pickaxe +2 Architecture (16 AP/12 DC), +2 Knowledge/+2 Mining
Alatadriel, +2 Fire/+2 Foxes, furnace and foxes (although these foxes have technically not been create yet so really this shouldn't be applicable, but I'll let it pass for now)
Timorin, +2 Drama, quirky buildings
Kahar-Djin, +2 Paths, direction sense
[roll8]

Kahar-Djin (25 AP) - protect a village (6 AP/3 DC), +2 Thresholds
[roll9]

Yir (25 AP) - bless 10k mortals (10 AP/6 DC), +2 Sun/+2 Majesty
[roll10]

Dulnori (25 AP) - give bronze to a small group of mortals (2 AP/1 DC), +2 Fortune
[roll11]

Vreyalas (25 AP) - compel a town of mortals (10 AP/6 DC), +2 Community
[roll12]

Enheduanna (25 AP) - compel a large group of mortals (4 AP/2 DC), +2 Devotion
[roll13]

[Garjel_blah]

Chapter 1, Turn 1 resolution

Chern (17 AP) - success
Chern's maddening dig through the undergrowth of Boa Jungle successfully infected it with glowloam, a bioluminescent fungus that can grow in the deepest caves and overtime bore their own tunnels.

Nestellbam (23 AP) - success
The small village of humans was successfully preserved from wild beasts of the Harken Steppe. They give praise to the Dragon for this blessing.

Opulon (23 AP) - success
The hands of the ten pygmies glowed, and all other who they met were astonished. They heard tell of this cosmic force called Opulon, and were awed.

Su'ule (5 AP) - success
Oh boy...
Su'ule's cry reverberated through reality, creating what would soon become known as Su Sorcery, or simply shout sorcery. All mortals were imbued with the potential to channel this magic, and deposits of a magical mineral known as magicite crystalised deep beneath the earth. This magic is in theory restricted only by what one's voice can shout, though true free-form sorcery would be attainable for only the most powerful mortal sorcerers, who could master the nine schools of sorcery:
The school of astrology, which allows for divination by communing with the stars.
The school of water, which may manipulate water and use it to heal.
The school of nature, which enable nature to be commanded, and has a more advanced sub-school called the school of treewhispering, which allows for communication with nature and is best learned at a young age.
The school of fire, which is notoriously dangerous and will destroy most who try to use it. Most will never even attempt it, and those who do attain some mastery of it will emerge burnt by the fury of the fox.
The school of the warrior, which allows one to channel magic into their physique, and can result in supercharging battle fields with the excess mana of the fallen.
The school of necromancy, giving command over the boundary between life and death.
The school of radiance, which allows the limited free-form sorcery by channelling the sun, and can only be performed with the blessing of a god.
The school of enchantment, which allows objects to be imbued with magic.
Additional restrictions were imposed on the raw power of Su'ule's shout. All prospective sorcerers would be limited by their mana pool, and overuse of sorcery would exhaust them both physically and spiritually. Furthermore, due to the influence of the Dragon, any form of Su Sorcery is incredibly difficult to perform in the region known then as the Harken Steppe, and creatures from the Steppe are inherently resilient to and poor at performing magic. However there are ways to overcome such barriers. Performing ritual sorcery with groups could extend the capabilities of magic, while prayer to one of the gods could bolster magical ability still further for the faithful.

Ymon-Thal (19 AP) - failure
Many pregnant mortals around the Boa Jungle found themselves unusually heavy with child in the months following Ymon and Thal's blessing. The more learned of the primitive would have guessed that they'd bear twins. However, in most cases one or both of the twins would be miscarried or stillborn, and in the end only the regular number of twins were born. Death had rectified the influx of life, it seemed.

Avestra (15 AP) - success
The Ebonbark neanderthals, once known as the Forest People, were saved from rapacious humans by the avatar of Avestra. Henceforth they would be known as the Crow People, and would devote themselves utterly to the Avian Goddess.

Petr (17 AP) - success
The first icewater lily budded in the frosty ravines of Stonesthroe. Mortals would learn to use it as a herbal remedy, and would every time feel grateful to Petr for her gift.

Timorin (15 AP) - success
Timorin's cursed crown fell into the hands of the unwitting pygmies native to Lucent Archipelago. Quickly the Lucent Crown would begin to disrupt their peaceful existence, kicking off a cycle of murderous intrigue that payed homage to the Mischief Maker with each passing day it persisted.

Alatadriel (15 AP) - success
With a twitch of their adorable little noses, the Hua-Ling burst into existence. They sat down on the black sands of Ebonbark Bay, looking up at their vulpine deity expectantly. For some reason the humans watching this were unimpressed, and resolved to forget about it once it was all over.

Grawissen (9 AP) - success
With a shower of spark and hiss of cooling iron, Grawissen's pickaxe emerged from the forge of Alatadriel in all its quirky glory. Any who grasped its banded metal shaft would know their way, and could build wonders to awe mortals everywhere.

Kahar-Djin (19 AP) - success
The mortal village of Ebonbark Bay was preserved from the storm by the encircling shield of light. Bron and the other villagers would be eternally grateful to the strange, otherworldly warrior woman who intervened on their behalf.

Yir (15 AP) - success
That day on the peak of Stonesthroe Mountain, the first of the Blessed of Yir were created. Averaging up to 9 feet tall, these giant humans and neanderthals grew tougher than average, and had golden eyes, as long as they were raised with plenty of nurturing sunlight. This blessing would be passed down to future generations as a recessive trait.

Dulnori (23 AP) - success
The small group of humans accepted the javelin from Dulnori, and used it to slay him in his rhino form. With this knowledge they would become some of the best hunters in the Harken Steppe, and would always remember the rhino man who gave them the means to excel.

Vreyalas (15 AP) - success
The town of Theshana prospered beyond any mortal's wildest hopes and dreams. At its time, it must've been the most cohesive community in the Stonesthroe Mountains, perhaps even the world. Shana, Thess, and the many other mortals who lived there prayed to Vreyalas for their continued prosperity.

Enheduanna (21 AP) - success
The Gnaw Waste neanderthals saw Su'ule give her epic shout, and heard the endorsement of Enheduanna, they fell down in worship. The hardy wastelanders would develop a dualistic religion around the two goddesses, the Monster Mother and her Priestess Queen.

You may all now begin posting your turn 2 actions.

[Godzillarich]

Grawissen emerges from the ground again with his brand-new pickax, ”It works really well… This should make my mission much easier. Grawissen thought to himself, ”but knowledge does not just come from the ground… Much of it is made on the surface. he searched around the jungle, documenting the plants, the animals the soil and the sky. ”So fascinating... he stopped himself on the beach and looked out to the ocean. ” If there are so many wonderful things here, what does the rest the world have to offer?” suddenly something caught his eyes. A group of familiar-looking bipeds walked upon the shores. ”Those strange beings who were with Alatadriel...

”AH! A monster!” one of the humans yelled out. The humans pointed their spears at Grawissen.

”Monster…? Grawissen ”is that what I am?

Suddenly a voice rang out from the ocean. “AAAAAAAH” a few yards from the shore, there seem to be another one of these strange creatures swimming in the ocean, it looks smaller than the rest of them. Judging by the elephant he saw earlier he theorized that it was an infant. “Daddy hel...!” before she could finish they were pulled beneath the waves.

Grawissen eyes widened. “Cara!” one of the humans yelled out in fear. NOOOOOOOOOO!”

Without even a second thought Grawissen slammed his pickax onto the beach into the direction to where the small human was swimming. The humans besides the one crying out for the kid pointed their spears back at Grawissen. ”Stay back two feeted ones...their story does not end here.” suddenly a massive rock path emerged starting from the beach and heading out to the ocean, suddenly a massive rock spire emerge from the ocean. Two creatures were wrapped up in stone, one was the little kid and the other one was a giant seven armed red big-eyed creature.

The humans were taken aback from this ”How!” one of them simply asked.

”Knowledge is a powerful thing...remember to cherish it... Grawissen slowly walked on the rocky path he made until he came up to the Rockies spire. ”Don’t worry little one...I have you…” he said to the little one as he removed the rocks around her and grabbed her. He then turns his attention to the seven-armed creature. ”We do what we do to survive... he told the giant squid. ”You may go now... and with that, the rocks disappeared around the squid as it fell back into the ocean. The creature was smart enough to take the hint and swam away.

Grawissen walked up to the man on the beach and handed him the child. They both simply stared at each other. Grawissen broke the silence. ”The sea is an unknown place...Best tread lightly when you enter it.” he then turned around and started to walk away.

“Wait!” the man yelled out. “You must be rewarded. Come to our village there surely is something we can give you.”

Grawissen turned back around. ”I require only knowledge… And I assume your village has plenty of that… I will follow.

And with that, they headed off.

[The JoJo]

Avestra, 15/25 AP, Sunset Forest, Ebonbark Bay

Avestra swept down on a westerly wind, taking the form of a jackdaw as she landed on the nearest convenient branch. After some time transversing the sparse regions of the world, she was keen to see how her new followers were getting on.

It didn't take long to find a small group of Crow People gathering supplies at the edge of a clearing. On average, they were a little shorter than their cousins in the Stonesthroe Mountains and wore nothing except a handful of feathers in their hair, the number and size of which seemed to vary according to rank. Their skin was bronzed and rough from years of constant exposure to the elements. In the distance lay their temporary shelters, pyramids of sticks strung together with flexible branches and then covered with a layer of freshly cut ferns.

The men were armed with flint spears and carrying their prize of the day between them, a juvenile deer trussed to a stick. The women carried their babies in one arm and grass baskets of roots and berries in the other, while the children played in a stream nearby. The youngsters used a mixture of hand gestures and speech, and the more perceptive among them seemed to have already noticed the change among the trees.

Avestra took the sky once more, content for the time being. With her eagle eyes, she saw that a small group of Crow hunters had wandered beyond the confines of the forest, apparently in pursuit of large game. It was an unusually bold move for the timid Crow People, but then if they had made that decision, it wasn't Avestra's place to intervene.

[Mira_124]

Opulon, 23/25 AP, Boa Jungle

After successfully speaking to her small group of pygmies, Opulon changes back from the massive, ethereal form. She catches onto a nearby branch as she falls from the air and swings herself up onto it, looking over the trunk of the tree.
'Hm, this will do nicely'.
She places a hand on the tree trunk, feeling the bark against her skin, and wills the small hole she spotted in the wood to open further. Some of the smaller branches and their foliage began to bend towards her, creating a sheltered area half inside and half outside the tree for her to rest in. It was nighttime, finally, and she sorely missed gazing up at the sky. She had been preoccupied with her new surroundings and the people she'd found and had forgotten to commune with the stars for far too long.

With glee, she climbed and teleported herself up through the branches of the tree. In her rush to reach the canopy, Opulon almost lost her footing a few times but quickly she made her way up and threw her head back, a wild laugh escaping her. She spread her arms, which were in the process of becoming massive wings that extended 20 feet from her in either direction. With a whoop of joy, she pushed herself up into the air, her feet shaping themselves into razor-sharp talons longer than a grown man's leg. Her body sprouted feathers as she soared through the air, shaping itself into that of an black owl, dotted with pinpricks of light that let Opulon blend in with the night sky. Gracefully she glides through the sky, feeling the light of the stars on her back, letting their voices wash over her once again. The tidbits of information fill her brain and she revels in the sheer amount of knowledge she is being exposed to.

"...the men are angry..."
"...new magic..."
"...people of the crow..."
"...the miner will never lose his way..."
"...something is beginning..."
"...a storm approaches... the jungle..."
The whispering grows louder at this, all other conversations dying out, only focusing on the news of the oncoming storm. The stars sense a change in the relatively peaceful weather of the jungle. Their whispering turns to chattering and below, animals begin to feel the star's apprehension.

Jolted from her reverie, Opulon lands on the nearest branch in a hurry. Frantically she searches the thousands of thoughts in her mind to find the single thread that mentioned the jungle. Finally finding it, she seizes it and pulls her consciousness towards the flow of information.
"... not just a storm ... something dark brews at its heart ... a greater storm than the jungle has seen ... many creatures will be destroyed ... Boa will be scarred for many ages ... it approaches soon ...

Taking to the skies yet again, Opulon reaches out her mind to the other deities, asking for their help in saving as much as possible.
'The stars tell me of a fast-approaching storm that threatens our jungle. We must act to save it, do I have your help? I dread what might happen to the people and creatures should we fail.'

She lands at the outskirts of the treetop village, appearing as a human in a cloak of stars. With the hood over her face, she looks to the horizon and feels a harsh wind begin to blow, signifying the arrival of the edge of the storm. She calls out in a loud voice, alarming her followers to the danger, and she hears the commotion of the pygmy village preparing for the worst. The sun should be rising, shedding its early morning light on all it touches, but the dark, almost black, storm clouds cover the sky for as far as the eye can see. A sprinkling of rain begins, following the harsh wind, and lightning strikes can be seen in the distance. From behind Opulon comes one of the men who were blessed by Su'ule's magic - N'kolé. He was older, his hair gray, his stance tall but his body was starting to betray him.

"Lady of the Skies, we do not fear the oncoming storm while we are under your protection. We will show our devotion by standing at your side as the rain falls. We are faithful and confident that we will not be harmed", N'kolé speaks, as a handful of other members of the village fan out around him and Opulon.

"I was one of the first ten you showed yourself to and I knew from that instant that you were the blessing we had been asking for for many days. Years ago, a village shaman predicted an oncoming storm that would destroy our home and that its coming would be signalled by an owl in the sky that blocked out the moon. He never told us if there was a way to survive the storm, but now, with you? Our people have no fear".

With the support of her followers all around her, Opulon raises her hands to the sky. She lets out a cry as the ground shakes, a bolt of lightning striking a nearby tree. The pygmies standing with her struggle to keep their footing but right themselves, their eyes affixed on Opulon. The rain begins to fall in full force, quickly soaking everyone through. The small group of men and women scatter for a moment and return with large leaves twined together with vines. They work quickly together to hang the cover in a higher branch, shielding themselves and Opulon from the worst of the rain. Nodding her thanks to them, Opulon sends her awareness out to the storm directly above, willing it to disippate before it succeeds in destroying more of the jungle.

8 AP/4 DC, change the weather in a state-sized area. +2 Divination, as the stars warned her about the oncoming danger.
15/25 AP left.

For clarification, Opulon is making this purposefully detectable by all other deities. She is trying to change the weather across the jungle, to get rid of the storm. (OOC: Tom, I'm not sure where I was going with "something dark brews at its heart" but feel free to take that where you will. I'll probably expand on it later if possible because that sounds like a fun challenge eventually.)

[The JoJo]

Avestra, 15/25 AP, Sunset Forest, Ebonbark Bay

Avestra had been about to roost in a tree for the night when she heard Opulon's plea, carried by the sea breeze. Though she hadn't had a chance to fully explore Boa Jungle yet, any forest was as good as the one she had chosen to make her home in, and so she decided to lend a little of her power to her fellow deity.

Avestra helps Opulon avert the storm with +2 nature by calming the winds and scattering the rainclouds to parts of the world where more moisture is needed.

[Garjel_blah]

Chern, 17/25 AP, Boa Jungle


8 AP/4 DC, change the weather in a state-sized area. +2 Divination, as the stars warned her about the oncoming danger.
15/25 AP left.

For clarification, Opulon is making this purposefully detectable by all other deities. She is trying to change the weather across the jungle, to get rid of the storm. (OOC: Tom, I'm not sure where I was going with "something dark brews at its heart" but feel free to take that where you will. I'll probably expand on it later if possible because that sounds like a fun challenge eventually.)

Not many of the jungle pygmies noticed this, what with the prophetic owl circling overhead, but in the dim light of dawn a foreboding silhouette could be distinguished. A great vulture, perched on a distant branch in the emergent treeline. One child in particular became frightened, claiming that she had seen the scavenger's hunched, bulbous head swivel her way, glaring at her with yellow eyes.

Opulon felt the gale of the storm stagnate abruptly, as though some hungry force had sapped the life out if it.

Help Opulon banish the storm

+4 Decay, causing the storm to dissipate more rapidly than usual.

Taking the form of a vulture, because apparently birds are in at the moment, Chern will personally yet discretely assist with the banishing of this storm.

[Maryring]

Life is such a fragile thing. Especially at the very beginning. Ymon's blessing has become a curse for all the sadness it ended up causing. If only Petr's domain of healing had been stronger, then perhaps... but such thoughts are pointless. Perhaps the twins of Life and Death will try again. If so, Petr will be there to support. For now, she drifts upon the water. Following the flow from the Stonesthroe Mountains, they watch as the mountains give way to a deep gorge, separating the rocky mountains from lifeless deserts. Extreme temperatures. Sparse vegetation. Even here though, life finds a way to thrive. It's a beautiful thought.

Petra's mind continues to drift with the water. Slowly tall cliffsides and sunscorched ground give way to floodplains and deltas through mud and sand. Life and plants are far more abundant here, and Petra flows across small tidepools, across crabs and tiny fish, where water goes from sweet to brackish as it flows out into the ocean. This far, and no further, the Icewater Lily grows. The ocean is too warm and salty. She takes a seat upon the beach, gazing out at the vast, wonderful blue that covers most of the world. It's a wonderful world, full of life. And it seems such a shame that those who can perceive and appreciate the world around them should be locked only to land...

Nearby a large half-island rests. It is connected to the mainland by a narrow island bridge. In a couple thousand years, the land bridge will have eroded. But for now. it is tied to more solid ground. As if the land itself is taking a tentative step into the ocean. Perhaps... perhaps indeed. It will require assistance, but there are many Gods like Petr around. With their help...

But first there is an urgent cry for aid. Another god requests help to dissipate a storm. And help shall be provided. In the treetops of the jungle can be seen a small, monkeylike creature the brilliant white of pale moonstone. It leaps from treetop to treetop, dragging clouds towards drier lands.

Providing +2 Water domain assistance to Opulon to stop the storm. Peter will return the water to the earth in a controlled manner.

Once the storm has passed, Peter manifests himself before Opulon, a soft smile on his face as he offers a slight incline of his head in recognition of the fellow immortal's power. "Greetings. I am Peter, the one who grants Healing and Growth, and it is a pleasure to finally meet You proper. I sensed Your touch upon the creation of a new natural law, and in that touch I sensed potential and power both. I wish to request Your assistance in the creation of a sanctuary upon the ocean. An island that can travel the seas, navigating by the stars in the sky."

Petra approaches Grawissen at night, when all mortals are asleep. She steps out of the moon's reflection upon the ocean, with the seafoam rising up to wrap about her form like a royal gown upon her white frame. "Greetings. I am Petra, the Ocean and the Rivers are My domain. And I come here seeking Your assistance. By Your will, mortals have been gifted the precious potential of magicite. It is that mastery of the earth that I now request of You. Will You please assist me in the creation of a sanctuary upon the ocean?"

Coalescing out of pearlescent mist, Peter appears by Dulnori. In his hands are a small sample of various pearls gathered from the ocean, offered to the God of Fortune. "Greetings Forger of Fortune. For You I have a prospect which I think You might like. A method for mortals to make masters of this wondrous world. It is My desire to create an island sanctuary upon the waves of the ocean. Will You help My ambitions become reality?"

Petra approaches in the silence of night, when the Crow People sleep, and when Avestra herself is available. Creeping in as the rising morning fog. "Greetings. I am Petra, who brings Water to man and beast alike. I come bearing a request. I wish to create a sanctuary upon the waves. But any proper sanctuary must be able to support life, and there is no life without Nature. Can I count on your benevolence in this endeavour?"

Before Ymon and Thal, Petr is like water itself. He offers to Ymon a gentle, supporting touch of empathy. And to Thal she offers a proud yet polite nod of acknowledgement. "My apologies dear Ymon, that My aid was not enough. Know that I shall support You again if I am capable. But until such time, I come here with a proposition, and a request for help that... You may perhaps find peculiar." The words linger in the air for a moment. "Would You assist Me and awaken Life to an island sanctuary I wish to create?"

Petr's meeting with the mother of monsters is brief, and mostly cordial. An introduction of the self, their titles and their domain, and a mention of interest in the law of sorcery, as well as excitement at how it'll develop. As Petr leaves, they let slip mention of their plan to create a sanctuary island.

12 AP/8 DC: influence a city-sized area:

Petr is going to create a floating island, capable of sustaining life for tens of thousands of mortals. In this task, Petr is hoping to get support from other gods, and is willing to let them have a small say in the end result. The ultimate description of the island will be written when I know who supports, what they want, and if it succeeds.

[Mira_124]

Opulon blinks in surprise as Peter appears in front of her, but she nods in greeting, a smile on her face.
"I felt the touch of your magic on the creation of a new law for mortals as well, I am honored to see you here in front of me. A sanctuary sounds like an interesting proposition, especially if it is able to serve as a lifesaver for those who are lost at sea. I will lend my power to your cause, the stars speaking through me to guide the island. I will allow it to divine the location of any lost mortals, on the waters, who may need aid as well".

+2 Cosmology, +2 Divination to help Peter create a floating island that can sustain life.
Opulon will use the whispers and magic of the stars to allow the island to navigate by them, her knowledge of the birth of the universe and its parts helping with the actual formation/changes of/to the island, and through divination she allows the island and its inhabitants to know if there is someone on the waters nearby who needs help.

[AlexanderML]

Yir 15/25 AP, Above All, Gazing Below on the Stonesthroe Mountains

The weakling mortals that came to accept it's blessing were able to handle the Highest of Gods gift, their bodies become closer to the purity of IT'S light. They leaped with joy and gave their eternal oaths of fealty to it's benevolence, as both expected and required of those that feel it's glorious light. Pleased, Yir spoke down to them the following message:

"These lands are the closest to MY light, and so are the most holy of lands. By MY will you shall have right over these lands and all lands where you can see these peaks, no other mortal has claim over these lands greater than yours, for you hold an innate MAJESTY that they cannot match. Go out into the world and continue to show me your worthiness, and know that through service in my name, you shall find purity and NOBLE purpose."

The now-less-pathetic mortals seemed to take it's words to heart. As they began talking among themselves, Yir began to think of more on the future.

Yir's light is naturally closest to the tops of Stonesthroe Mountain, and is so sacred to Yir and it's followers. Sanctifying it seems the appropriate action, though if it fails it doesn't really change that much on how Yir feels about the place. To clarify, I'm aiming to get more than one top of the Stonesthroe Mountain range. On these peaks solar magic is faster to use, though the requirements to use the magic are the same.

Sanctify Area
14 AP/10 DC


Yir, Above Boa Jungle and It's Brewing Storm

Yir looked down upon this green land that devours it's light, to the point that only a small portion of it's light reaches the bottom, and even then Yir's own glorious vestige would almost never be seen. The sun felt a mixture of appreciation and... something not right. Leaving that aside, the sun noticed a storm of some sort was destroying this green land, it's dark visage almost balking at Yir's light. This would not stand.

Yir spoke down onto the jungle, though only those near the storm would actually be able to hear what the sun spoke:

"I am Yir, the light above all that gives this land life. And by MY will, darkness shall not consume the life of this land."

The light of the sun shined down in a bright column for a moment, cutting through the brewing mass of the storm and violently disrupting it.

Yir will add it's +2 Sun modifier to aid the eradication of the storm, through proto-sun beams (version 1.0 is still in the making...) used to disrupt the storm's gathering current. Whether this single thrust is actually majorly helping is a little debatable.

[Demonjazz]

Alatadriel:15/25AP

There was a hum on Ebonbark Bay. An unmistakable taste to the air as the unnamed tribes hunted and foraged the bay. Many were discontent with their new ruler; used to the old ways of owing only yourself and the community. Now there was a need to appease the gods and goddesses. No one had dared to question these powerful beings and the old guard said that it was only just that they follow this fox god but despite her beauty.
Alatadriel sat carefully grooming her tails, surrounded by a small assembly of foxes and Hua-Ling surrounding her. As she conversed with the creatures, others worked tirelessly.
It was often hard to see the reason behind this particular arrangement.

It was the end of the season and the cold was starting to settle in harshly, the hides of deer adorning the bodies of the Al-Sinai people. A brave and courageous fisherman brought in a mighty bounty from the sea, but still, some wondered if they would be losing members this winter. Most of their harvest was flown away in a flood that had washed throughout the plain. All hurried around the camp to gather the last they could forage before the end of the season.

Leader of the Tribe, Khan Ormotag was the first to approach the fox leader. He kneeled. "Beautiful, and Iridescent Leader. May I humbly request your assistance?"
Alatadriel uncrossed her legs as she looked down at Ormotag. "It is the food situation, correct?"
"Yes, we were wondering if your foxes would be of help in gathering the fruits, and nuts of the area."
She rested her hand on her cheek. "Sadly, I don't think it would help all that much. You can't gather what isn't there. Not that it would help all that much either. I will tell them to gather what root vegetables they can. I fear that we may not have enough for the harvest festival this year, Ormotag. Certainly not enough for Winter Solstice, Shame. I do love a good Winter Solstice, almost as good as Summer Solstice."
"I do not mean to insult, milady. But I believe there are more pressing matters at hand. If the game is not good this year. I doubt our elderly and young will be able to make it to spring, my goddess."
"I typically would not use my-" Alatadriel stopped as a fox approached. A series of yips and barks were conversed between the two before Alatadriel turned back to Khan Ormotag. "Ready your warriors! My scouts have spotted armed barbarians approaching from the South!" Alatadriel hurried around the camp barking orders.

The generals of Al-Sinai and Alatadriel had filled each other on the situation. The Forest People had not been seen for many seasons on their land, but there was a rumor that since a great fire in the South that they had started to take back some of their old lands and hunt once more on the lands that they once ruled. Now fifteen broad and built Neanderthals had been on a direct path towards the waters of their tribe all armed with flint spears. Alatadriel led her troops to the crest of a hill.
Her troops with spear and shield in hand waited expectantly. "Careful, The Southern Brutes are a fierce lot. They have no fear, they fight completely naked." The Captain said.
"Bah! I doubt the savages even know how to make clothes! They know of nothing but instinct and the hunt. We're doing a favor by killing them!" The lieutenant spat.
"Don't underestimate your opponent," Alatadriel said, standing tall on the hill. The Hua-Ling sat at her beck and call. She gave a hand sign and her fox brethren sped off into the forest. Within minutes fire could be seen at the bottom of the hill. "Steel yourselves!" Alatadriel shouted. The soldiers could see the neanderthals run towards them as they were encircled with flames. "READY YOUR WEAPONS!" The rehearsed sound of shields being raised and spears bared high. The neanderthals were only thirty feet away now. "RELEASE!" A volley of spears zipped through the sky, in the tight battlefield of the forest many were taken by the trees but the small vanguard fell to the obsidian spears of The Sinalese. They were quickly replaced by the six hulking hairbacks of the rear that crashed into the shields of the Al-Sinai tribe.
The superior strength of the hairbacks sent a shock through the line, knocking over several men, but they were quickly replaced with those behind them spears ready to strike. The skirmish ended quickly as the Neanderthals were overwhelmed by the superior numbers and weapons of their enemy.

Alatadriel had waved her hand and the flames of the forest vanished. She took stock of the dead. Two dead on her side, and one hua-ling. All dead on their side except one unlucky man whose leg was simply broken. They had propped him up against the tree as Alatadriel questioned him. The Al-Sinai could not understand the tongue of the Southern Brutes but a god may understand anyone.
"Do you mind explaining why you were trespassing on Al-Sinai land?"
"It isn't your land! It belonged to The Crow People before you brought fires into the valley!"
"Please, don't test my patience. It was trespassing nonetheless."
The soldier sat in silence before answering. "We were a hunting party. We tracked a big game into this area. Real Big game. Winter is coming soon, and we did not think you would see us. When you attacked us we had no choice but to fight."
"Is that so? You wished to take from our lands as we are in famine?"
"We starve worse than you! You push us towards nothing! You take and take until there is nothing left!"
"And here you lie, accusing starving masses of stealing. My people will not be blamed for your failures. Would you like to say any more lies before we are finished?"
"Avestra will protect our people. She will not stand for this."
Alatadriel's eye twitched as she brought forth flames for her hand. "Who is Avestra?"
"The protector of our people. The great bird which takes to the skies. Protector of nature. She will stop your tallheads from devouring the land."
"Hmmph. An upstart challenging me. We will see how your god protects you in the next life." Alatadriel brought the fire closer. "How would you like to die?"
"Cut off my head and leave my body to the birds." The man braced himself saying prayers to his avian goddess as Alatadriel formed a blade of fire. "As you wish." Were the last words that he heard as the blade tore through his neck. Alatadriel took his body into her hands and jumped high into the trees, resting the body on the branches. "Earth to Earth, Dust to Dust, Ashes to Ashes. I offer your soul to the birds so that it may find release. Ka take you."

Alatadriel dropped down to see her people mourning over the loss of their warriors. "The prisoner said they were hunters. Poaching our lands."
"The Hairbacks lie! That is all they have ever done! They were planning an invasion! That was just a scouting party! They plan an invasion of our lands!" The Lieutenant shouted.
Alatadriel set her hand on the man's shoulder. "I think they are telling the truth. The Hua-Ling have reported no fires near the camps and," She pointed not far from the bodies of the hairbacks. "Tracks of an elephant. The brutes were either desperate or had never fought such a creature before, but there was large game here."
The Captain calmed his soldiers as they started to make rebukes. He squared his shoulders as he approached the goddess. "The Southern Brutes could never handle such a creature, but that does not fill our bellies or revive our soldiers! Why have you not helped our tribe with your mighty power, yet! You could have stopped these deaths"
Alatadriel face grew into a frown. "I don't like being accused."
"I did not mean to speak out of tu-"
"No, it is fine soldier. Because even a woman of my great power cannot be everywhere at once. Cannot save you from every fight and save your harvests. Metal must be worked to create tools. Adversity must be used to work men. A student learns nothing if they are given the answers."
Alatadriel caressed the Captain's cheek. "Now tell me student. What must be done to reprimand the Southern Brutes?"
"We must... Take from them which they wished to take from us."
"Ah, see. You are learning. Sanya, and Yifrum's deaths will not be in vain. For we will feast greatly tonight. But first, we mourn."

Alatadriel approached the bodies and clapped her hands together. The fallen of the Al-Sinai burst into flames as she started a prayer. "The flame is the soul's breath. The black smoke is the soul's release. Ashes as thou wert and art. May your souls return to the great flame of fire. You will be remembered. Al take you." As she finished the flames petered out, the embers being blown into the wind; catching against the bright lights of the night sky.

The village of the Crow People was primitive in comparison to that of the Al-Sinai with only temporary dwellings. Yet still their primitive defenses would prove a fortress to an army of the stone age. "I offer my foxes to you, Captain. I trust that you will be able to pull this off. " To the south were the food stores, and to the north was the distractionary target. A raised dais of rocks, a large effigy of a crow hanging over that of an offering. A small pile of polished rocks of many different colors. Flanked on both sides by dry straw huts.
A single hua-ling approached as everyone slept. Carefully, the creature gathered small pieces of straw in from the huts and piled them near the effigy of crow. Footsteps were heard as he piled more on. A man stumbled his way past the boundaries of the tribe mumbling to himself in his own tongue. They did not seem to notice the straw as the hua-ling got back to it's work. A small hole being made in the primitive stick huts. The fox breathed a small flame onto the kindling as they dashed off into the jungle.

Elsewhere, five men sat crouched not far from the communal storage of food. Two guards stood watch over the food to protect it from any scavengers that may wish to prey on the tribe. It took for what seemed to the five men an eternity for The Southern Brutes to notice the fire as the effigy started to lick at the huts. But it was not long until the two guardsmen had left their posts when the tribe started to panic. gathering clay jugs they ran to the river to quench the flame. The five men moved in quick, two gathering the remains of a large elk between themselves. The third and fourth soldiers carrying baskets of foraged fruits and vegetables, the fifth dual-handing two large clay jugs as they exited the path.
The men were almost disappearing into the trees as a woman going to the stores to gather more clay vessels shouted out to the rest of her tribe. Three burly hunters gathering spears ran towards the thieves as they ventured further and further into the jungle in the distance.
The pursuit was on as the hunters threw their spears into the forest of the bay as the thieves ran wildly further and further in, being slowed down by their large rewards the hunters were inevitable to catch up to their prey, but they were not going to make that easy.
As the prey journeyed further into the forest, they jumped over a dip in the ground. The two carrying the remains of an elk fell to the ground, but just as their pursurers neared, a holler went out. The rest of the soldiers came forth from the ditch chucking their spears into the hunters of the Southern Brutes.

As the soldiers who were sent out in the mid of day had come back bearing great prizes on their backs, the fires were lit as they settled down tired from the day's worth of work. One thief who poured the contents of a clay pitcher into a wooden bowl seemed happier than the others. "A caper like that requires a real celebration." The young soldier drank a long draught from the bowl. "But lucky for you, I nabbed their wine while I was at it!"

A lapse of judgement, i figure, can be pretty fun. And so the party goes on and on.

Influence a village of mortals. 6AP/3DC.
Alatadriel renews the faith of her people by proving their military might, and the wisdom of her leadership. In the process she has killed numerous Crow People.
+2 for the many uses of fire, and another +2 for the many uses of foxes.

[Batcathat]

Ymon-Thal, 19/25 AP, Boa Jungle

His attempted miracle – and, honestly, demonstration of power – having fallen to pieces around him both of Ymon-Thal was upset. Time had passed but the sense of loss and failure lingered.

"Aww", Ymon said, doing some aerial acrobatics high above the jungle but without his usual energy. "It would have been so fun... "

Thal hovered in the air, next to his livelier self. "Indeed. While death was always their destination I had another journey in mind."

Still, it was a valuable lesson. Even with the help of another, Ymon-Thal acting with only half of his power had been unwise. His next attempt would...

Their thought was interrupted by Petr manifesting in front of them. In response to the kind words Ymon – never one for suitable responses or personal spaces – patted Petr on the head.

"A peculiar request indeed", Thal responded, despite the question clearly being directed at Ymon.

"Yes, yeah, that sounds like a good idea", Ymon added. "I can help. A long life for all on the island!"

"We are one and we act as one", Thal said. "A long life – and a swift death."

Ymon-Thal adds the power of both life and death to Petr's attempted creation. +4
If it suceeds the inhabitants of the island will live unsually long lives (not supernaturally so, just a little longer than average) but there will also be a slightly higher amount of premature deaths.


As the Twin God both added their will to Petr's, the thought from earlier finished forming in their shared mind.

Ymon spoke first. "Now we need your help again, great healer. A grand miracle! A big surprise! Healing the unhealable!"

As Ymon explained to Petr what they had in mind Thal stayed in the background, distracted by something. A sense of... rot? Decay?

He followed the feeling through the storming sky. Even before the masked man came into view Thal knew it was yet another god, having felt an echo of his power through the creation of sorcery.

"Greetings", Thal said, while Ymon appeared next to him, curiously eyeing the unknown deity. "We are Ymon-Thal, Twin God of Life and Death."

Thal paused a moment before continuing. "I have a proposal I suspect would suit your... character. To show the world that no one is safe from death and decay."

Shortly thereafter Ymon-Thal once more let his power flow out to touch every mortal within his reach. No pregnancies this time – just a grand display of the unexpectedness of both life and death. He could sense thousands of people on their death bed for a hundred different reasons. Whether from wounds or sickness Ymon gave them each a spark of life. Not enough to completely cure or heal, but to keep them alive long enough to get better on their own.

Ymon tried to speak through the lips of the hopefully no longer dying: "Ymon-Thal is life. No one is beyond his reach."

As life flew in one direction, death flew in the other. Thousands of humans, pygmies and Neanderthals at the peak of health and life. Thal sensed them and like a myriad of candles with much left to burn he attempted to blow them out.

With their hopefully final breath, they echoed Thal's words: "Ymon-Thal is death. No one is beyond his reach."


Influence a city of mortals (12 AP/8 DC)
+ 2 from Life, + 2 from Death
Ymon-Thal is attempting to stop about 50 000 deaths from happening as well as end 50 000 lives prematurely. As with my previous (attempted) action I'm not targetting any group in particular, just as many as Ymon-Thal can reach. If someone want a life-save or sudden death to happen to one of "their" mortals feel free to do so (assuming the action suceeds) but if not it can happen to off screen mortals.
If someone else is interested in helping I'm sure we can work something out.

[Godzillarich]

Grawissen: Speaker of the Forgotten, Ebonbark Bay

9/25 AP

It had been about a week since the incident at the shore, there apparently was a celebration going on around the village. Grawissen looked on curiously, while he had a pretty good basic understanding of these humans they still had many secrets. ”Why are you humans moving weirdly...?”

The chieftain simply smiled, “they are celebrating, It is harvest season. a time where we can gather food so we can eat later.” beside the chieftain was the little girl that Grawissen saved about a week ago.

Grawissen listen with fascination ”seasons...? How can you tell when the seasons change...?”

“Simple” the chief said as he pointed to the sky. “We look at the sky, we feel the weather. When the dates become shorter and it becomes colder we are able to harvest our food.

”I see…”Grawissen thought to himself, pulling metal out of his rib cage. ”I must make a mental note of this fact... he then placed the metal into the chieftains hand. ”Here is my payment…. I am sorry to pester you weeks on end....”

The chieftain put the large metal chunk onto the ground. “You’re not being a bother, I oh you so much the thing for you already and this material is great for our jewelry.” he continued to walk with Grawissen. “How long are you staying by the way?”

” until was nothing left alone here...” Grawissen told the chieftain.

The the chieftain smiled, “We have plenty of that around here, not you excuse me I got a ritual to do.” and with that, he walked into the crowd of dancing people.

Grawissen watch the festival go on for hours, gaining much knowledge from their exploits. ”I must pay them back… a better way than just metal…”
6 AP/3 DC: influence a village of mortals (~1000), +2 knowledge, this village will develop a love of knowledge and gain the skill of writing to pass down that knowledge. +2 mining, they will gain the skills to excavate those shiny rocks that they like so much. +2 architecture, they will develop impressive building skills of the generations to build fantastic structures.
______________

Petra approaches Grawissen at night, when all mortals are asleep. She steps out of the moon's reflection upon the ocean, with the seafoam rising up to wrap about her form like a royal gown upon her white frame. "Greetings. I am Petra, the Ocean and the Rivers are My domain. And I come here seeking Your assistance. By Your will, mortals have been gifted the precious potential of magicite. It is that mastery of the earth that I now request of You. Will You please assist me in the creation of a sanctuary upon the ocean?"
Another one of the said gods, like him. Like most of his actions he thought about it for a bit. ”I will help, but I will make sure that the island is a place of sanctuary and knowledge and not destruction.”
+ 2 Mining, the island will have an expansive cave system with much new knowledge and materials, +2 structures the island will be a wonderful architecture, from its mountains to its forests, +2 knowledge, the place will contain much knowledge and will attract people far and wide to gain that knowledge.”
__________________

[DarthArminius]

Life is such a fragile thing. Especially at the very beginning. Ymon's blessing has become a curse for all the sadness it ended up causing. If only Petr's domain of healing had been stronger, then perhaps... but such thoughts are pointless. Perhaps the twins of Life and Death will try again. If so, Petr will be there to support. For now, she drifts upon the water. Following the flow from the Stonesthroe Mountains, they watch as the mountains give way to a deep gorge, separating the rocky mountains from lifeless deserts. Extreme temperatures. Sparse vegetation. Even here though, life finds a way to thrive. It's a beautiful thought.

Petra's mind continues to drift with the water. Slowly tall cliffsides and sunscorched ground give way to floodplains and deltas through mud and sand. Life and plants are far more abundant here, and Petra flows across small tidepools, across crabs and tiny fish, where water goes from sweet to brackish as it flows out into the ocean. This far, and no further, the Icewater Lily grows. The ocean is too warm and salty. She takes a seat upon the beach, gazing out at the vast, wonderful blue that covers most of the world. It's a wonderful world, full of life. And it seems such a shame that those who can perceive and appreciate the world around them should be locked only to land...

Nearby a large half-island rests. It is connected to the mainland by a narrow island bridge. In a couple thousand years, the land bridge will have eroded. But for now. it is tied to more solid ground. As if the land itself is taking a tentative step into the ocean. Perhaps... perhaps indeed. It will require assistance, but there are many Gods like Petr around. With their help...

But first there is an urgent cry for aid. Another god requests help to dissipate a storm. And help shall be provided. In the treetops of the jungle can be seen a small, monkeylike creature the brilliant white of pale moonstone. It leaps from treetop to treetop, dragging clouds towards drier lands.

Providing +2 Water domain assistance to Opulon to stop the storm. Peter will return the water to the earth in a controlled manner.

Once the storm has passed, Peter manifests himself before Opulon, a soft smile on his face as he offers a slight incline of his head in recognition of the fellow immortal's power. "Greetings. I am Peter, the one who grants Healing and Growth, and it is a pleasure to finally meet You proper. I sensed Your touch upon the creation of a new natural law, and in that touch I sensed potential and power both. I wish to request Your assistance in the creation of a sanctuary upon the ocean. An island that can travel the seas, navigating by the stars in the sky."

Petra approaches Grawissen at night, when all mortals are asleep. She steps out of the moon's reflection upon the ocean, with the seafoam rising up to wrap about her form like a royal gown upon her white frame. "Greetings. I am Petra, the Ocean and the Rivers are My domain. And I come here seeking Your assistance. By Your will, mortals have been gifted the precious potential of magicite. It is that mastery of the earth that I now request of You. Will You please assist me in the creation of a sanctuary upon the ocean?"

Coalescing out of pearlescent mist, Peter appears by Dulnori. In his hands are a small sample of various pearls gathered from the ocean, offered to the God of Fortune. "Greetings Forger of Fortune. For You I have a prospect which I think You might like. A method for mortals to make masters of this wondrous world. It is My desire to create an island sanctuary upon the waves of the ocean. Will You help My ambitions become reality?"

Petra approaches in the silence of night, when the Crow People sleep, and when Avestra herself is available. Creeping in as the rising morning fog. "Greetings. I am Petra, who brings Water to man and beast alike. I come bearing a request. I wish to create a sanctuary upon the waves. But any proper sanctuary must be able to support life, and there is no life without Nature. Can I count on your benevolence in this endeavour?"

Before Ymon and Thal, Petr is like water itself. He offers to Ymon a gentle, supporting touch of empathy. And to Thal she offers a proud yet polite nod of acknowledgement. "My apologies dear Ymon, that My aid was not enough. Know that I shall support You again if I am capable. But until such time, I come here with a proposition, and a request for help that... You may perhaps find peculiar." The words linger in the air for a moment. "Would You assist Me and awaken Life to an island sanctuary I wish to create?"

Petr is going to create a floating island, capable of sustaining life for thousands of mortals. In this task, Petr is hoping to get support from other gods, and is willing to let them have a small say in the end result. The ultimate description of the island will be written when I know who supports, what they want, and if it succeeds.

Su'ule noticed that one of her siblings, as she saw them, requested help. . . Dictating the laws of reality were part of what the gods can do. Su'ule was one of them. Thus, she would see to it that the other god's plan to create a large island capable of sustaining life to a great degree would succeed. With her eyes, a magical energy began to glow as she swam in the waves of the seas where the island would grow. Su'ule cut herself as she swam in the waters, with a simple cutting motion of her right clawed hand, and within the waters of the island, some of her monstrous kind would flock. As the island stood, when Su'ule created monsters, they would sometimes be attracted to the island, and wish to live there in greater numbers than elsewhere. In addition, her magical blood suffused the land, making sorcery of Su'ule easier to use.

Help
+2 Monsters, +2 Sorcery, she magically combines her blood with the water the island raises out of, which enchants the land to both attract her peculiar creatures, and acts as an empowering reagent for her spells.

[Maryring]

"Of course. I will be more than happy to offer you my assistance in this. A renewed lease upon life. May they use this blessing well." Offering +2 Healing domain support to Ymon's attempt to revitalize those at death's door. They shall find that any medicine used will be quite a bit more potent than they expect it to be.

"Then We are of one mind. When mortalkind is granted access to step upon the island, it shall be with peace in heart, and wisdom in mind."

As Petr works on the creation of the sanctuary, they notice an unknown, but not entirely unwelcome, presence drift closer to the island. From where Petr directs towering waves to deposit mud and sand upon the island, they feel a powerful presence within the waves. They taste the bleeding essence shed that will make the land sweet with magic. A blessing, but also a curse. The presence of monster may pose a threat to mortalkind to live upon the island. A problem, but all problems do have solutions.

"Kahar-Djin. You who gave the cry of Su'ule shape and structure. I am Petra, the one who brings sweet rain to parched grounds. It is a pleasure to make Your acquaintance. I come to You pleading assistance." With permission, Petra guides Kahar-Djin's perception to her project. A steadily growing island sanctuary which reeks with the power of Sorcery. "This I hope to make a gift to mortalkind. A sanctuary for them to thrive within. Alas, our fellow divine, Su'ule, has blessed the island with Her essence. It has become a beacon, one that will draw worthy and unworthy alike. So I ask You. Help Me create a Threshold around the island to separate and shield it. Let only those who know the Path and hold the Key pass Your Treshold. Will you please give me this support?"

"Vreyalas. You who gave Sorcery direction of power and enhancement. I am Peter, the Flowermaker, who gifted the Stonesthroe rivers with the icewater lily. I have watched mortals use the flower as a remedy, and I have found it especially well utilized by a community who owe their existence as thanks to You. Your gift of community is inspiring, and so I come to You with a challenge and a request both." The sanctuary island is shown. It's air thick with Su'ule's essence. A beacon to lure in monsters. "This I hoped would be a sanctuary for mortalkind. As it is, it may become the opposite. A battleground between monster and man. But Your blessing may help stagger this fate. I ask You. Give the Sanctuary a sense of Community. If monsters are to seek this out as a home, make this a place where mortal and monster may live together."

[Godzillarich]

Ebonbark Bay

Vreyalas appeared before Grawissen as a silvered woman.

"Speaker of the Forgotten! I am called Vreyalas. It seems we may be able to work together.

Under my guidance, mortals on the Stonesthroe Mountains have formed a society, where together they prosper more than any of them could have alone. And yet... it rests upon wood. A concept so... temporary. I've seen the holes you have dug and metals you pulled from the earth, and that you showed mortals to do the same. I wish that my humans learn this, so that their houses be stronger, and last longer, and so that they do not fear the biting wind and blowing snow.

But I do not come empty handed. I have seen that you seek understanding of this world: a noble goal. A greater understanding leads to prosperity. The mortals in my domain, my... society, can grow old. And before they die, they can pass what they know on to their children. And them onto their children. Because each needn't focus on surviving, mortals can preserve knowledge from one generation to the next. Not only this, but they may share what they know with each other. A hundred, a thousand people working together to understand. And though some may die, the collective does not forget.

I propose that exchange: I show your people to form collectives, and you show mine to reap the metals and stones of the earth."

He was quite frankly a little bit annoyed he knew so little about this world yet this strange being would know so much about him, but at the same time Grawissen was always excited to meet a new face, ”It depends, this will only be used to help the creatures of this world and preserve knowledge?”

Vreyalas steepled her fingers for a moment in thought.
"The motivations of the creatures of this world are many: I cannot say how they will use this skill. But I can say this: I have watched them build Theshana against adversity. I have seen them grow to care and love one another. The arts of stone and metal will only raise this up.
"Moreover, metal and stone remember where wood and oral histories forget. They seek to preserve what they have for longer than it takes the trees that comprise their homes to rot."

Grawissen then let out his hand, ”Fine but I’ll be watching…

Vreyalas smiles and shakes the offered hand. "I expect no less. I, and these mortals, are in your debt. I will teach them to pay you some homage as well."

With a flash of light, Vreyalas left the God's forge, eager with plans for the future

[Garjel_blah]

Ymon-Thal, 19/25 AP, Boa Jungle

As Ymon explained to Petr what they had in mind Thal stayed in the background, distracted by something. A sense of... rot? Decay?

He followed the feeling through the storming sky. Even before the masked man came into view Thal knew it was yet another god, having felt an echo of his power through the creation of sorcery.

"Greetings", Thal said, while Ymon appeared next to him, curiously eyeing the unknown deity. "We are Ymon-Thal, Twin God of Life and Death."

Thal paused a moment before continuing. "I have a proposal I suspect would suit your... character. To show the world that no one is safe from death and decay."


Influence a city of mortals (12 AP/8 DC)
+ 2 from Life, + 2 from Death
Ymon-Thal is attempting to stop about 50 000 deaths from happening as well as end 50 000 lives prematurely. As with my previous (attempted) action I'm not targetting any group in particular, just as many as Ymon-Thal can reach. If someone want a life-save or sudden death to happen to one of "their" mortals feel free to do so (assuming the action suceeds) but if not it can happen to off screen mortals.
If someone else is interested in helping I'm sure we can work something out.


Chern gazed up at Thal from his faintly luminous hole. He bowed respectfully.

"Greetings, half-god. I am grateful that you would seek me out, for you are the first to do so! No one wants to visit Chern or his humble hole..."

Chern scrambled out of the hole, moving like a cockroach. He stood at Thal's level

"However, you are mistaken if you think my character to be that of a death god. Decay is not simply a facet of death. If anything, life and death are facets of decay, for life needs the decaying dead to grow, and when it dies, it's decay feeds the next life, and the cycle perpetuates! A beautiful cycle, forever and ever."

The Wiltwatcher appeared wistful for a moment.

"But I see that Ymon is ensuring this balance. Together you are creating life as well as death. This is Chern's wisdom, and so I shall humbly offer what help I can."

Help Ymon-Thal kill and save 100k mortals

+4 decay, to momentarily push the cycle of life and death into overdrive.

[gac3]

Timorin 15 AP/Lucent Arppeggio

Timorin spends time enjoying watching his pigmies embrace the madness of the crowns spell. It quickly became apparent however that his toys would soon all be broken and the fun would end.

So after one particularly brutal conflict he once again revealed himself to the pigmies after having snatched up the crown when it was sent flying.

In the form of an ancient pigmie, the same form he originally showed himself as, he began to speak.

"I see you have not understood my gift that I have given you. I am quite disappointed. This crown is not for you. It is for the chosen one who shall rule over you one day. Do not lay a hand upon the crown for it's magics are unstable in the wrong hands. But one day a being from a far off land shall arrive and take the crown upon their head and no one shall be compelled to serve them or to kill them. That is the one who shall be chosen to rule over you and lead you to the greatness you all strive for. So invite all you can to this island and gift them with this crown. Those who are unworthy of its power shall perish the way all before them have. Do not disappoint me again."

He placed the crown on a rock at the center of the island and walked away. They would listen. They would likely build their whole society around his words. If all goes according to plan, they will grow and their war prowess will grow. People will come who are more powerful and more numerous but they will be saved by the crown. The leader of anny attacking force will be gifted the crown and within days, he will be slain by all those loyal servants he brought with him. Then the Pigmies would inherit the weapons and technology brought to the island.

Not sure that the pigmies would still manage to thrive, he shrugged and set sail across the water to new lands. He would check in on these pigmies often but for now, he felt the makings of a storm brewing.


Action: Influence 1000 mortals. 6AP, DC3 (Autosuccess should be?): Create "Cult of the Mad God"
+2 Drama/+2 War for the strategies he gifted them as he left. Should they maintain his goals in mind, they will become fierce warriors and every visit to their island will be filled with drama.

[DarthArminius]

Su'ule
5/25 AP

Su'ule, after helping to raise the island of Petr, returned to the Maw. . .
Inside Neanderthal caves, whoever was born in a certain location, located inside an abnormally large clearing inside the naturally occurring rock formations, Su'ule enchanted it. Whomever would be born inside and near that location would be born a natural born magic user. Over a hundred Neanderthals, part of a certain tribe, all found themselves setting near the area, and using the locally enchanted caverns as shelter, and as a sort of make shift temple.

-4 AP Influence a somewhat large area. Only one spell or magical trait is usable by each person born under the influenced location.

[Artemis P]

Nestellbam, Harken Steppe, AP 23/25

As the wave crashed over, leaving drops like dew across the world, Nestellbam awoke slowly. It was an agonizing process, as the fibers of his being seemed frayed, each edge just a little less him, a little more other. The world seemed different, smelled different, than he remembered. As if something had changed, as of he had changed- he worriedly checked himself, and his surroundings, fearfully discovering that the echoes of power had indeed warped and twisted the world, though it seemed as if his instinctive reaction had lessened the impact on him, and his people. He was frayed- not whole, not complete- changed!

Changed! Changed! the deity thought! I am different! And with that, it let out a shout of its own, an echo of the one before, an echo of mourning and sadness, for what once was, was no longer, and could never be again.

While checking itself, it had detected a presence, one who had meddled with it's affairs, showing a divinity not unlike his own, talking to the people who rightfully worshipped him. In his barrier, he had neglected his faithful, and now they gave respects to another. Now, in his rage, in his jealousy, he flew to that presence, that being, in his territory, who had talked to his people. And as he flew, he observed the mighty metal that had been given to his people, and the strange device cured from buffalo hide, that allowed the spear to be thrown farther. And he saw that it was good.

He approached the deity, and yelled in his anger "Who are you, to have beseeched my people this way?"

And the being, taking the shape of a twisting, horridly changing, windswept being of chaos and sand, replied "I am Dulnori. They answered the challenge, and received my blessing."

"I am Nestellbam. I am the god of the eternal, the undending, the rememberance, the peacekeeper. These people, whom you have given much too, they were my people. I am their protector. I take them under my responsibility. He speaks in a serious tone, channeling all of his anger and ferocity into these words, but also the strength of the immovable.

And then, all of a sudden, his voice changes. "And I thank you. You have given them a gift, and made their lives better- though, I am admittedly concerned for how this technology may change them." With that, he bows his head in humility, and thanks.

"However, that is not why I have come," he adds, after a moment. "This magic, that is here now, was not there before. It has changed things, and what was, will never be again. Gone, and destroyed. I seek to prevent this from happening again. This land is mostly untainted. I will claim it for my own. This is my warning to you."

Without waiting for a reply, Nestellbam dives deep into the Earth, and, without warning, begins the process of imbuing the Earth with his power, with divine might and authority, packing it in deeper and slowing the process of the decay of the soil, till it echoes of something solid and unending.

Nestellbam has begun the process of sanctifying the Harken Steppe in his name, hallowing it to forever be the same as it is now. +4 Preservation, DC 10.

Nestellbam heard the cry of the divinity, and added his own might to the forest, making it stronger and more rigid, so as not to blow over in the storm.
Help: +4 Action

[El'the Ellie]

With the assistance of Grawissen's knowledge, Vreyalas returns to the Stonesthroe Mountains. Touching the ground around Theshana, she feels for the presence of metals and stone deposits that normally formed readily in her hand. The mountainous terrain was rich in resources for her people. Yes, this would work.

She returned to the town, once again taking on the golem form. Theshana had grown in her absence. "Mortals of Theshana, your devotion and work has been rewarded, as promised! Theshana is strong in its people, but the city itself is fragile. These walls and houses of wood rot, in time. They do not protect you from the biting wind. I have seen when bears and other beasts of the valley smell your food, and how they knock down the storehouses. I bring to you a solution, but as with all things, it requires great cooperation. This skill I teach you will be demanding, and dangerous. It comes from another god: Grawissen. Just as you pray to me, so too should you hold that name holy when mining.

Go forth to the valley west of here, where the grass is marked by my symbol, and dig in the ground. Past the loose dirt in which you plant your crops, you will find the hard stone of the mountains. Pray to me and Grawissen there, and you will see how to break this stone and shape it into tools, blocks for walls, and whatever your minds can create. The earth holds many secrets: in time you shall reveal them all."

Spending 6 AP to influence a town of mortals. A smaller group from Theshana will understand the skill of mining, and will teach it to their descendants. Theshana will have proper crafting of stone tools and buildings.

From Grawissen: + 2 Mining, they will become skilled in mining raw materials from the earth +2 structures they will be able to use those materials to build amazing structures, +2 knowledge, they will have keen knowledge of of the world around them and pass that knowledge down through the generations.

No sooner had the god left his people, then a new divine found him.


"Vreyalas. You who gave Sorcery direction of power and enhancement. I am Peter, the Flowermaker, who gifted the Stonesthroe rivers with the icewater lily. I have watched mortals use the flower as a remedy, and I have found it especially well utilized by a community who owe their existence as thanks to You. Your gift of community is inspiring, and so I come to You with a challenge and a request both." The sanctuary island is shown. It's air thick with Su'ule's essence. A beacon to lure in monsters. "This I hoped would be a sanctuary for mortalkind. As it is, it may become the opposite. A battleground between monster and man. But Your blessing may help stagger this fate. I ask You. Give the Sanctuary a sense of Community. If monsters are to seek this out as a home, make this a place where mortal and monster may live together."

"Peter, is it? It seems this land is rife with other divinity. I've seen these lilies, and I must say I admire the way they bring peace to the mortals here."

He listens to the healing god as they walk through the snowy woods of the mountains. Vreyalas admires a colony of ants crawling along a tree while deep in thought.

"Mortals and monsters living together? It is... against their nature. These monstrous beings serve to test and raise up people. In turn the people keep in check the power and pride of monsters.

But... why should that be the case everywhere? We are the architects of this world, are we not? Yes... it will be an experiment. I will see what I can do!" He claps his hands, the wheels in his golem mind turning.

"I will ask for your help in the future, in exchange. For now, lead me to this sanctuary."

Once at the island, Vreyalas ponders his task. How to turn natural enemies into allies? He studied the area, and gradually began to forge a spell. Into the stones of the island he worked the seeds of society, that world grow in the minds of the creatures that gathered here. The longer one spent on the island, the more they would see those that live beside them as allies, despite whatever inclinations they might have in other parts of the world.

Lending Community domain to add +2 to the check.

[The JoJo]

Avestra, 15/25 AP, Sunset Forest, Ebonbark Bay

Avestra opened a single eye and stared at Petra from her perch, as if considering her. Finally she spoke.

"I am Avestra. It is a pleasure to finally meet another one of our kind in person." She tilted her head in thought. "I will help you build this sanctuary, provided that it will not take more than is necessary from the seas around it. I can provide for that."


~

The next morning, Avestra took a long journey across the ocean, considering each island in turn as a potential home, but none quite struck her fancy. The first was too barren, the second too prone to flooding, and the third contained a large number of pygmies all fighting over a sculpted band of wood, which seemed entertaining but not a place to make her nest.

That evening, as she flew back over Sunset Forest, she saw to her dismay that smoke was rising from deep within the forest. She took the form of a small falcon and dived down, unprepared for what she would find next.

The Crow settlement had been almost entirely gutted by fire. Her shrine had long since turned to ash, as had most of the temporary shelters. Many of the charred bodies which remained were pierced with spear points which were far more sophisticated than the Crow People's own rough flint tools. Outsiders. The survivors had gathered some distance away, still attending to the wounded and ensuring that the flames spread no further.

Avestra let out a cry of anguish, reverberating through the entire forest. Loss was nothing new to her -- nature, after all, was red in tooth and claw -- but the strength of these beings' feelings was like nothing she had ever felt before. The agony of a burned hunter who had tried in vain to put out the flames. The sorrow of a young widow, still nursing a spear wound herself. The fright of a toddler suddenly alone in the world. Avestra felt it all as if were her own. She could watch no longer and tore back up into the sky, the trees bowing beneath the force of her furious wing beats.

She shrieked again, this time the ground shaking beneath her. Something began to emerge from the dry earth, the shape of a tree with a multitude of snaking branches. One for each victim. Avestra let their spirits find their way into the branches, imbuing the newly born tree with what little remained of their life energy. There would be time to find out who was responsible for this. But for now, the living had to be her priority.

Avestra let her consciousness reach out to the two deities she had already communed with, Opulon and Petra, sharing with them a small part of her pain so they understood what had happened.

"Please, help me become the guardian of this forest."

14 AP/10 DC: Sanctify an area for +2 - sanctify Sunset Forest for +2 nature, with +2 nature and +2 birds. Sends message to Opulon and Petra, asking for assistance.

The Crow People's most sacred ritual, forbidden to even be spoken of aloud, is to visit a particular tree deep in Sunset Forest. It might not be the oldest or largest tree in the forest, but it has a certain grandeur among its tangled branches. This is said to be Avestra's Perch, the place where the avian goddess will rest unseen after her long trips around the world. The Crow People customarily leave offerings of food before the tree, which always vanish by the next time they visit.


Help Petra form her floating island with +2 nature and +2 birds. The island will have its own self nutrient and waste system, so that it does not require resources from the outside world to survive, and will have a number of habitats providing space for endangered creatures and plants from across the world, particularly migratory birds.

[Maryring]

"You aided me in creation of my own sanctuary. Permit me to aid you in turn."

Petr offers healing to ensure the sacred tree is sheltered from disease, and water to ensure the tree is always nourished. +2 Water and +2 healing support.

[Mira_124]

Avestra let her consciousness reach out to the two deities she had already communed with, Opulon and Petra, sharing with them a small part of her pain so they understood what had happened.

"Please, help me become the guardian of this forest."

14 AP/10 DC: Sanctify an area for +2 - sanctify Sunset Forest for +2 nature, with +2 nature and +2 birds. Sends message to Opulon and Petra, asking for assistance.

The Crow People's most sacred ritual, forbidden to even be spoken of aloud, is to visit a particular tree deep in Sunset Forest. It might not be the oldest or largest tree in the forest, but it has a certain grandeur among its tangled branches. This is said to be Avestra's Perch, the place where the avian goddess will rest unseen after her long trips around the world. The Crow People customarily leave offerings of food before the tree, which always vanish by the next time they visit.




"You aided me in saving the jungle, so in return I will do what I can to help you protect this land.
From one forest dwelling god to another, right?"

+2 Divination, +2 Cosmology for Avestra's sanctification of the Sunset Forest. The Crow People will be able to always know where the tree is, no matter where they are in the forest. They will be able to look to the sky if ever they get lost while doing the ritual and approaching the tree, and they will be guided by the stars. Blessed with Opulon's understanding of the formation of the universe and all its parts, the Crow People will also understand the specific needs of the forest and how it changes and grows over time.

[flyinglemur]

Dulnori and Peter


Coalescing out of pearlescent mist, Peter appears by Dulnori. In his hands are a small sample of various pearls gathered from the ocean, offered to the God of Fortune. "Greetings Forger of Fortune. For You I have a prospect which I think You might like. A method for mortals to make masters of this wondrous world. It is My desire to create an island sanctuary upon the waves of the ocean. Will You help My ambitions become reality?"
Dulnori was greatly surprised. He received the pearls, and answered, “Greetings and nice to meet you. You feel familiar, though I’m sure I’ve never seen you before. Anyhow, I’d be happy to help anyone achieve their dreams.” Dulnori enriched the earth of this fabled island, making it bountiful with gold, jewels, and metal. This way the dreams of the islanders would never be limited by the small size of their home.

+2 fortune, seeding the island with riches, and +2 ambition, because this way the islanders won’t run out of stuff to mine any time soon, thus prolonging the time they can recklessly dig deeper into the earth.

Dulnori, 23/25 AP, Harken Steppe


"I am Nestellbam. I am the god of the eternal, the undending, the rememberance, the peacekeeper. These people, whom you have given much too, they were my people. I am their protector. I take them under my responsibility. He speaks in a serious tone, channeling all of his anger and ferocity into these words, but also the strength of the immovable.

And then, all of a sudden, his voice changes. "And I thank you. You have given them a gift, and made their lives better- though, I am admittedly concerned for how this technology may change them." With that, he bows his head in humility, and thanks.

"However, that is not why I have come," he adds, after a moment. "This magic, that is here now, was not there before. It has changed things, and what was, will never be again. Gone, and destroyed. I seek to prevent this from happening again. This land is mostly untainted. I will claim it for my own. This is my warning to you."

The surprises would continue that day, for soon after Dulnori met Nestellbam. Throughout his life Dulnori had sometimes felt a strange presence winding its way through the steppe, a force like ice and wind, the cold fury of the dragon. He could never tell what it was, only that it churned through the steppe bringing stagnancy wherever it went. Now he finally understood. He saw the dragon plunge into the earth, and felt that presence run through the steppe once again. Though Nestellbam had been harsh in his rebuke, Dulnori saw that he was not cruel. He wished to see the steppe people’s thrive, and it pained him to feel the loss of what once was. This dragon was tenacious in his own right, and had a dream worth pursuing. Dulnori felt a kinship with him, he was no enemy, he was the other part of the steppe. The earth to the sky, the winter to the summer. Nestellbam was Dulnori’s equal and opposite.

Dulnori spoke,"I am pleased to meet you Nestellbam. I’ve long suspected something else lived in these lands, and now I see you face to face. Don’t get the wrong impression. I am not your enemy. I am a being born from the steppe, just as you were. That makes us blood brothers. We are both an inherent part of these lands, and conflict between us would only leave it in ruins. We can compromise, for we share much more in common than you may realize. Though I do wish for change, my priority is that the people survive and thrive. They deserve the chance to dream and see those dreams become reality. You love them too, and I can tell you only wish the best for them. However, keeping them exactly the way they are will not ensure their survival, rather it will surely bring about their doom.

When the great roar washed over the steppe I pulled on it, and felt others do the same. Other beings are out there just as strong as us, but twisted and alien. I sensed their intent and will, some are kind enough and seek what we seek, but others are cruel beyond measure. I felt demons of fire and wood, monsters of death and chaos, all trying to twist the roar to their own ends. You felt them too, do they not worry you? They lie in wait in foreign lands, content for now, but what happens when they come to the steppe? Do you think they will respect this land, and its people? I don’t think so, they shall try to devour the land, and crush the dreams of the people? We must prepare for such events now. A little change must occur, in order to prevent the greatest change of all, our extinction.

In order to end our troubles, I propose we divide the world in two. On the surface, I will unite the tribes under one banner. They shall wield bronze, and tame the wild beasts. Alone, the tribes will never be able to stand against the forces of extinction, but together they will thrive. They shall travel far and wide, defending the land, and searching for relics and treasures. They will return them here, so they may be stored beneath the surface, in your domain. Thus we shall keep beautiful things from being forgotten and tossed away. With this, we can balance both of our desires, and protect our land from the demons afar. If you aid me in preserving this nations existence, I shall apply my power to help you preserve the earth as well. I will strengthen your will, and protect the riches of the steppe beneath the soil, for I have a great connection with them. Anything you wish to preserve underground will be preserved. The nation shall defend your hoard with their lives, and I will employ all my strength to doing so as well. I want to see your dreams come true as well."

Nestellbam considers these words, and replied. "What you propose is a dangerous slope, deity. Slow, subtle changes are sometimes far more insidious than anything else- but I accept your proposal. Help me, and I shall help you." He pauses. "But hear me, Dulnori of the Steppe. I shall not allow my people to come to harm. Change brings chaos, and war, and this is unacceptable. Break our agreement, or bring our people to harm, and I shall bring down my wrath upon you." Now..... he says as the words fade away "who shall rule?"

Dulnori answered, “You don't have to worry about that. I don't break my word. The first rulers, should be these villagers here. They have seen both of thus, and know already how to wield my inventions. Mortal lives are short however, and in time someone else shall have to replace them. Hopefully, the greatest shall rule. They shall have twin symbols, the dragon and the whirlwind. I’ll call this new nation the horizon tribe, for they seek to comprehend the boundary of earth and sky.”

I’ll use my action to influence 100,000 mortals. I’ll bring them together as the horizon tribe, and teach them the ways of bronze and herding. They’ll travel the steppe and the world at large, seeking to perform great acts and collect treasures, to bring them back for preservation.
12 AP/8 DC +2 ambition since they are expanding dramatically, +2 fortune because they seek wealth and treasure.

I’ll use a reaction to help Nestellbam sanctify the steppe. +2 ambition, because Nestellbam has a dream and the tenacity to accomplish it. Dulnori loves to help with exactly that kind of thing. +2 fortune, because Dulnori can act on the underground jewels and metals, making them invulnerable to tarnish and rust. -2 stability for obvious reasons

I have 11 AP left

[Garjel_blah]

Chern, 17/25 AP, Boa Jungle

A pygmy girl ambled through the dense jungle, walking up tree trunks and across branches and down corded vines. The winds seemed to be diminishing, and the wise grown-ups had said that the stars foretold a peaceful end to the storm. Ever since the arrival of the star goddess, these wise grown-ups had been getting more accurate with predictions of this kind. So with the jungle now safer, the girl had set out in search of a mysterious bird that she'd seen watching her from a far off in the canopy. She'd never seen one of its kind before, much like the great owl that'd fought against the storm. The two birds both gave her a sense of great power, but unlike the owl, it wasn't clear whether this vulture meant her tribe good or ill. She'd brought along her favourite stick, just in case she had to fight it off.

She hadn't walked far from her village when she stumbled upon something strange. A rotten log embedded in the tightly knit undergrowth was glowing a soft yellow light. It was quite obvious in the dim, overcast jungle depths. Curious, the girl approached, and almost stepped straight into a deep hollow in the soft wood.

"Careful now!"

A thin hand caught the child by the arm, keeping her from falling in. She turned around, surprised more by the sudden appearance of a masked stranger than the sudden drop.

"Where did you come from?" she asked, suspicious. "Were you following me?"

"No no no, not at all," said the stranger, "I live here, in this little burrow."

"Oh." The girl looked back down into the glowing hollow, frowning incredulously. "You live down there?"

"I do. Though..." the stranger peered up at the canopy, as though trying to make out something in the sky above, "maybe not for much longer."

"Why is it glowing?"

"It's those mushrooms," he explained, crouching down to about the child's level and pointing at one of the glowing fungi, "they're called glowloam, and they like to grow in dark places so that they can brighten them up."

"Like the mark of Opulon?" the child asked excitedly. "The Farseer came to us and made our hands glow, like the stars. It was so pretty!"

The stranger nodded, somewhat more subdued. "Yes. A bit like that. The stars are indeed very pretty. Though it's hard to see them right now with all this cloud in the way isn't it?"

"Yeah, sorta."

"Here, let me show you something. Follow me." The masked man stood, and began to scramble down into the hollow. The pygmy girl watched him sceptically. "Come on, it's quite safe," he assured her, "not even too deep yet."

She followed at a careful pace, using the freshly dug scars in the wood as hand holds. The hollow turned out to be quite small, barely larger than the interior of a hut. On the floor grew a handful of large capped glowloam stalks, while the walls and ceiling were festooned with a dazzling array of glowing yellow buds and spores in the process of propagating. At first she thought that the stranger had disappeared, then two of the glowing buds shifted, and she realised that his glowing yellow eyes had blended perfectly into the background.

"Ah very good. Now stand here and look up."

The girl stood next to the tall stranger, and looked up. The matte black, earthy roof of the hollow appeared strangely blank and fathomless, but for the hundreds of pinpricks of yellow light that stood out almost like...

"What do you see?"

"It looks like... Stars."

"It does, it does! I'm glad you think so." Chern knelt down once more, putting an arm around the kid's shoulder and gesturing dramatically up at the glowloam spores.

"Beautiful, isn't it? Just like the real thing. But if you ask me, the stars in the sky have always seemed a bit distant. Cold. They may speak to you, but do they know you? No, and they never truly will. Because they're up there, and we're down here. But the stars here, beneath the earth? They come from the same place you do. And some day, you'll join them here. You can't say the same for the real stars can you?"

"I guess not," the girl said noncommittally.

"You may of course think what you like, this is just my opinion. But I do wish that more people would look down at what's below them, with the same wonder that they look at what's above them."

"Yeah..." the girl tilted her head, staring quizzically at the glowloam starscape, "I never really thought about it like that."

"Not many people do."

The two of them looked up in silence for a moment. Then Chern stood, his eyes joining the constellation above the pygmy child.

"What's your name?"

"Sia," said the girl.

"Sia. There's a reason you're here, Sia. I have something important that I need to warn you about. Are you listening?"

"What is it? Is it the storm? Opulon will save us from that."

"Your people may weather this storm, but just as storms must pass, storms will always return. No one can weather them all. There is another danger that may afflict your tribe. Some people will miraculously recover from wounds and illnesses, but others may unexpectedly perish. No god or goddess will save you."

Sia's eyes grew bright with tears. "I'm scared... Why are you saying this?"

"I know it's sad," said the masked stranger, with genuine sympathy, "but I do not wish to hide you from this reality. All things must come to an end, but it's important to remember that one person's ending, is another person's beginning. You can give your people a new beginning, amongst the stars. I can teach you, and you can pass on this knowledge to others. Do you wish to learn this, Sia?"

The child sniffled, clutching her favourite club tight in her arms. She was scared, but the masked man made a strange sort of sense. Sia nodded.

"I would like to learn. So I can teach the rest of my tribe."

"Good. To start with, I will have to teach you how to make..." Chern removed his bone-white wooden mask, passing it down to the pygmy girl, "...one of these."

Influence one mortal (1 AP/0 DC)

+4 decay, as Chern will teach Sia a burial ritual, which is concerned with decomposition.

"Carve some wood to fit the deceased's face. It need not be complicated, just a thin plate with two holes for the eyes is enough. Then - and pay attention because this is important - you must treat the mask in the residue of a glowloam growth. When glowloam spreads it decays everything that it can, so the residue that it leaves behind is only the strongest, most resistant material. If you treat your mask in this way, then it will be spared decay, and so the memory of your dead shall persist. This is what matters most."

"Then, with the mask complete, place it on the deceased's face and take them to this place, this starry crypt. Leave their masked body here. You may bury them in the ground if you wish, or place them in a coffin, or even burn them and scatter their ashes throughout the hollow, it doesn't matter. As long as the mask is with them. Then, say your goodbyes, and leave them. Their body shall decay, joining the glowloam constellation, but the mask will stay. It will be absorbed into the walls and floor and ceiling, and spend eternity basking in the illumination that their bodies helped to feed. So the memory of your dead shall persist. This is what matters most."

"Now go. Show your people this place. Instruct them on the creation of the memory mask. If you do as I have instructed, and your people learn this way and pass it down through the generations, then the memory of your dead shall persist. This is, after all, what matters most."

[Megadraco]

Kahar-Djin, 19 AP, Ebonbark Bay

Kahar-Djin heard the resonating cry for help of the Owl Goddess, and extended their domain towards its origin. There, they found a jungle, threatened by a great, dark storm. Not only that, it seemed to be the same terrible storm that had almost destroyed the village. In their efforts to protect the people, they’d neglected to thin of where the storm would go next, or how much it would grow. They couldn’t stand by this, and let innocents suffer their neglect. They reached out, and spoke to Opulon,

“Oh, Farseer, I grant you my aid in protecting the jungle, so that no creature shall be harmed by the storm.”

They extended their domains around the jungle, but found them… Lacking. The jungle had sapient mortals, yes, but they had not explored their living place in its entirety. There were blind spots, places they’d have to work around, or work with blindly, with limited information from their surroundings. Regardless, eventually they built a threshold around the jungle, that would hopefully prevent the storm from striking. Further, they split the storm’s path into two, dividing it and sending the weakened storms in opposite directions. They hoped that would be enough.

+2 Thresholds, shielding the jungle from the storm. +2 Paths, sending the storm in different directions. -2 Unexplored, as there are parts of the jungle that are still unknown to mortals.



Kahar-Djin continued to visit the village, which he soon learned was named Día, but in his cloaked, masked form, which had not yet been identified as divine. Instead, they’d come to be known as a wandering sage, and the villagers showed them great hospitality. They enjoyed spending time with the villagers, dining with them and learning about them. They once told him about the shining goddess that had come to their aid during a terrible storm, carving that border around their town and saving them from certain destruction, before disappearing again, with a promise to return. They showed the sage a shrine they had built in her honour, and they was moved at the villagers’ devotion. They were, however, also slightly dismayed to see that some of them had been touched by the scream, and were developing the ability to practice sorcery. Of course, there was nothing they could do: Su Sorcery was already part of the world, and any attempt to “purge” sorcerers would be an unthinkable atrocity. No, they would not seek to do that. Their sole worry lay in the future, when some being may, perhaps, harness the full power of that chaotic roar. When that time came, they’d have to do something, but of course, they’d much rather prepare in advance…



One day, Kahar-Djin heard a summons. Another divinity had called for their aid, one by the name of Petr. They were creating an island, and apparently Su’ule, another god, who was the source of the sorcerous roar, had interfered, turning the island into a beacon for monsters. The divinity asked Kahar-Djin to place a Threshold around the island, one that could only be bypassed by travelling a specific Path, and holding a certain Key. Kahar-Djin agreed, and extended their domains over the island. But there was a problem. They couldn’t see. The area was completely unexplored, and so their domains were blind, unfeeling. They’d have to go there themselves.

The divinity pinpointed Petr’s location, then, using their own location as reference, created a temporary Path that bent space around itself, allowing them to quickly travel to the other god’s location. They stepped through, and the world twisted and turned around them, becoming a blur, until suddenly it settled in front of an island pulsing with the power of gods. Kahar-Djin floated up into the air, to have the whole island within their sight, and began to work.

The work was slow and clumsy, the god unused to controlling their dulled domain through sight alone. However, eventually they managed to draw a Threshold around the island, one that would make any traveller who could not cross the Path that was to come to be lost in mist, and eventually find themselves back where they started. Then, they began to work on the Path. This was, again, clumsy, but it was a simpler task. The path would, currently, be on the bridge that connected the island to the mainland. Even if that bridge sunk under the waves, the Path would remain. The hardest part were the Gates.

First came the Gate of Sapience. Any creature that walked through that Gate would need to have an awareness of themselves as thinking beings, a capacity for thought and reason. Thinking more closely, they introduced an exception for plants, and for small or herbivore animals. This would apply tom all the Gates.

Second was the Gate of Will. Any who walked the through the Gate would have to show no murderous intentions. They must walk through the Gate without desiring to cause chaos or destruction, nor to harm anyone within the island.

The Third Gate was left blank. Kahar-Djin decided to grant Petr a further measure of control, and let them decide what this final Gate would entail. They were sure the other god knew his own intentions better than they did.

However, thinking back towards their earlier determination, they did quietly, secretly introduce one small, reverse Key to that final Gate. Any one who possessed the power of freeform magic, that terrible, chaotic scream, would be able to walk inside the island, but would never be able to leave. And, with a new idea, they added a single further exception to the gates…

+2 Paths, creating the path that must be used to enter the island. +2 Thresholds, creating the border of mist around the island, and the Gates that must be crossed to enter, as well as the exceptions for plants, small and herbivore animals, and Bron. -2 Unexplored, as the island is currently uninhabited.



Kahar-Djin particularly enjoyed the time spent with Bron. The young man was brilliant, a deep thinker who got into some surprisingly deep debates with them (though, of course, sometimes the divinity had to play dumb not to give themselves away. They were also a skilled warrior, if not a match to Kahar-Djin’s skill with his staff. Bron had taken a liking to the old sage, too, seeing them as a mentor. He was always the one to receive them when they arrived, and the one to send them off when they left. That was why, when Kahar-Djin asked to speak to Bron in private, no one was really surprised. They assumed it was some more mentor-student conversation, which, in a way, it was.

Once Kahar-Djin ensured the two were alone, they manifested her armour, and Bron’s eyes opened wide.

“You-you are… But… How-”

The armour vanished just as quickly and the god took a finger to his mask, signalling Bron to quiet down.

“You must not speak of this to anyone. Listen to me, young man, I have a mission for you.”

Bron slowly regained control of his breathing, and then stood straight and attentive. Kahar-Djin continued.

“By now you have almost certainly seen the magic that has suffused the world. This “Su Sorcery”, I believe it is called. This power comes from the roar of a god of monsters, a terrible, chaotic being. Now, I have no issue with the simple spells you have seen used. I have personally made certain that those are harmless. However, there is a more… Worrying possibility. There is a potential for individuals to harness the full power of the scream, to control magic freely and without constraint. I call them Su Speakers. This power, the nature of its source, will bring instability and chaos to the world… Unless they are stopped.”

Bron’s eyes were wide again.

“So… That is my mission?”

“Well,” continued Kahar-Djin. “There are two inconveniences. The first is your ability to detect and differentiate regular sorcery from Su Speech. For that, I will grant you my first gift. You will now be able to hear magic. Not just the words people speak, but the underlying sounds of magic. Regular spells should sound like short words or phrases with some sounds attached. As for Su Speech… When you hear it, you will know.”

“The second inconvenience is that, to put it simply, any who masters Su Speech must be immortal. It could take over a century for the first Su Speaker to appear. For that, I shall grant you my second gift. The gift of immortality. I will grant you a Path and a Threshold. A mission to follow and a ban you must not cross. Your mission you already know. You must hunt down any Su Speaker you come across, and either kill or imprison them.”

“Imprison them? H-How?”

“There is an island, near the Stonesthroe Mountains. It shall serve you well for that purpose. Now, as for your ban: You must never practice Su Sorcery. I tolerate from the mortals, but not from you. As long as you follow this Path and do not cross this Threshold, you will not die. Do you accept these terms?”

Bron stood even straighter for a moment, then fell to his knees, and bowed deeply.

“I do, our saviour.”

12 AP / 8 DC, Immortalise a mortal

+2 Paths, by giving Bron a mission, or path, that he must follow.

+2 Thresholds, for creating a line Bron must not cross.

[Garjel_blah]

Chapter 1, Turn 2 rolls

Opulon (23 AP) - banish a state-sized storm (8 AP/4 DC) +2 Divination
Avestra, +2 Nature
Chern, +4 Decay
Petr, +2 Water
Yir, +2 Sun
Nestellbam, +4 Preservation
Kahar-Djin, +2 Thresholds+2 Paths, sending the storm in different directions. -2 Unexplored
[roll0]

Petr(17 AP) - create a city-sized floating island sanctuary (12 AP/8 DC), +2 Water
Opulon, +2 Cosmology/+2 Divination, navigation and radar
Ymon-Thal, +2 Life/+2 Death, longer life-span and premature death
Grawissen, +2 Mining/+2 Architecture/+2 Knowledge, cave systems, beautiful buildings, and wealth of knowledge
Su'ule, +2 Sorcery/+2 Monsters, magical enhancement and monster population
Vreyalas, +2 Community, strong island community
Avestra, +2 Nature/+2 Birds, self sustaining island and migrating bird population
Dulnori, +2 Fortune/+2 Ambition, sow island with riches
Kahar-Djin, +2 Paths/+2 Thresholds/-2 Unexplored, three entrance Gates
[roll1]

Yir (15 AP) - sanctify Stonesthroe Mountain peaks (14 AP/10 DC), +2 Sun/+2 Majesty
[roll2]

Alatadriel (15 AP) - cause pointless carnage amongst 1000 mortals (6 AP/3 DC), +2 Fire/+2 Foxes
[roll3]

Ymon-Thal (19 AP) - kill/save 100k mortals (12 AP/8 DC), +2 Life/+2 Death
Petr, +2 Healing
Chern, +4 Decay
[roll4]

Grawissen (9 AP) - teach a village of mortals how to live in a society (6 AP/3 DC), +2 Knowledge/+2 Mining/+2 Architecture
[roll5]

Timorin (15 AP) - convert 1000 mortals to the Cult of the Mad God (6 AP/3 DC), +2 Drama/+2 War
[roll6]

Su'ule (5 AP) - enchant a large area with magic (4 AP/2 DC), +2 Sorcery
[roll7]

Nestellbam (23 AP) - sanctify the Harken Steppe (14 AP/10 DC), +4 Preservation
Dulnori, +2 Ambition/+2 Fortune/-2 Stability, superior minerals
[roll8]

Vreyalas (15 AP) - teach Theshana how to live in a society (6 AP/3 DC), +2 Community/+2 Forging
Grawissen, +2 Mining/+2 Architecture/+2 Knowledge
[roll9]

Avestra (15 AP) - sanctify Sunset Forest with Avestra's Perch (14 AP/10 DC), +2 Nature/+2 Birds
Petr, +2 Water/+2 Healing, healthy tree
Opulon, +2 Cosmology/+2 Divination, tree sense
[roll10]

Dulnori (23 AP) - teach 100k mortals to raid and pillage preserve a society (12 AP/8 DC), +2 Fortune/+2 Ambition
[roll11]

Chern (17 AP) - terrify a child into burying her dead in his hole (1 AP/0 DC), +4 Decay
[roll12]

Kahar-Djin (17 AP) - immortalise Bron into a witch hunter (12 AP/8 DC), +2 Paths/+2 Thresholds
[roll13]

Enheduanna (21 AP) - no action

[Garjel_blah]

Chapter 1, Turn 2 resolution

Opulon (15 AP) - success
By the end of the day, the storm that had been threatening Boa Jungle was completely banished. Just in time for dusk, replacing ominous clouds with peaceful stars. The native pygmies celebrated in the Owl Goddess's honour.

Petr (5 AP) - success
With a roar of displaced water, the floating island of Sanctuary erupted from the ocean, not far from the Stonesthroe Mountains. As of yet it was bare except for three natural stone archways on the single sloping beach, and one very startled fisherwoman, but in time it would support a truly blessed community of mortals and other, stranger beings. They would build great works, learn many things, and live long, prosperous lives. Magic on the island would be stronger, and within its many tunnels and natural moon pools could be found a wealth of valuable minerals. Furthermore, the island would bear a beautiful, thriving ecosystem, completely self sufficient even when out at sea. Already some seagulls were landing on the damp archways, intrigued by their sudden appearance.

Yir (1 AP) - success
The peaks of the Stonesthroe Mountain range were brilliantly illuminated by the sun, becoming blessed in Yir's name. Now they were an extension of the sun's domain, and those attempting to channel solar sorcery would find their greatest success at these blessed summits.

Alatadriel (9 AP) - success
The black coast of Ebonbark Bay was stained red by the conflict between the Al-Sinai and the Crow People. And by the wine that the Al-Sinai pillaged. Which is kind of weird I don't think cavemen would have wine. But hey the action succeeded, so I guess there's wine. Great job.

Ymon-Thal (7 AP) - success
All across the known world, people lived and died. This is of course a fact of reality, but this time it was different. A perfectly healthy Al-Sinai raider dropped dead while doing a keg-stand with plundered caveman wine, while a feverish Crow orphan suddenly found himself recovering from the vicious Hua-Ling burns he'd sustained. A newly blessed Yir Giant misjudged his new centre of mass and fell screaming off the edge of a cliff, while a drowning fisherwoman was absolutely astounded to find herself swept out of the ocean by a landmass that'd just risen up from beneath her. Bron's elderly aunt, thinking that she'd been saved from the storm by the mysterious warrior woman, was struck by an anomalous bolt of lightning in the middle of a sunny afternoon, while an archipelago pygmy, who'd dared to put on the Lucent Crown and thus been shanked, burst gasping and wide eyed from his shallow grave, full recovered. And in the depths of the Boa Jungle, Sia's young mother died clutching her chest in pain, just as the masked stranger had warned.

Grawissen (3 AP) - success
Grawissen's presence at the festival on Ebonbark Bay gave the mortals just as much knowledge as they'd given him. They would use this in coming years to dig deep, build tall, and learn much as they did so.

Timorin (9 AP) - success
At the advice of Timorin, the pygmy cultists set aside the deadly Lucent Crown, and began to wait. People would come, some day. And when they did, the Cult of the Mad God would have quite a welcoming gift for them.

Su'ule (1 AP) - success
The large cavern in the middle of the Gnaw Wastes became supercharged with magic. Neanderthals born near this place would be naturally adept sorcerers, and many would actively seek to live here despite the harsh conditions in the hopes of blessing their descendants.

Nestellbam (9 AP) - success
A great stillness passed over the Harken Steppe, and it seemed like you could almost hear forever across its great planes. Then it passed, but in its wake something felt... Changed. Or rather not changed. The Dragon had locked down the Steppe, sanctifying it to remain his land forever.

Vreyalas (9 AP) - success
The inhabitants of the great Theshana began to tentatively excavate the mountainsides near their fledgling down. The first of the bountiful Theshana Mines.

Avestra (1 AP) - success
From the blood soaked soil of Sunset Forest, a tree emerged - the soon-to-be fabled Perch of Avestra. And with its growth, the forest became sanctified. Hopefully with this protection, the Crow People could live on, free of invasion.

Dulnori (11 AP) - success
The bronze-wielding humans of the Harken Steppe raised their javelins with a triumphant roar, setting out into the wider world with Dulnori's blessing. Though the Steppe may be changeless, they would be sure to enact great change on the rest of the world.

Chern (16 AP) - success
Sia returned home, clutching her favourite club and the mask of Chern in her tiny pygmy hands. She wasn't sure what to make of what she'd learnt in the starry crypt, but she knew one thing; she would show the glowing hollow to the rest of her tribe, and teach them to make the memory masks. Little did she know how soon they'd need them...

Kahar-Djin (5 AP) - success
Bron rose to his feet, the first immortal in human history. He would forever seek to fulfil his promise to the wanderer-warrior who had saved his village (though it was unfortunate what'd befallen his dear aunt, he supposed that he'd have to get used to outliving all his friends and family). Many ambitious sorcerers would learn to fear his coming.

Enheduanna (21 AP) - no action

EDIT: swish! First post of page 3, baby. I'll bump the action/god lists. Feel free to start posting for turn 3. And sadatg is still free to perform a turn 2 action if they wish.

Undetectable actions

Free/Instant: manifest avatar, teleport avatar, shapeshift avatar, interact with the world, perform inconsequential/non-divine magic, attempt to remotely contact other gods - general fluff and flavour basically.

1 AP/0 DC: influence one mortal (significantly alter the course of their life by compelling them to action, altering their body, killing them, etc.), scry one object or living creature (allows you to detect undetectable actions that happen within your scry, lasts until your next action or the end of the age).

2 AP/1 DC: influence a small group of mortals (~10), influence a small landmark or room, scry a small landmark or room, change the weather in a village-sized area.

4 AP/2 DC: influence a large group of mortals (~100), influence a large landmark or building, scry a large landmark or building.

6 AP/3 DC: influence a village of mortals (~1000), influence a village-sized area, scry a village-sized area, change the weather in a city-sized area.

8 AP/4 DC: change the weather in a state-sized area, create a basic living species (plant, fungus, micro-organisms), create a basic non-living substance.

10 AP/6 DC: influence a town of mortals (~10k), influence a town-sized area, scry a town-sized area, create an animal species, create one or a collection of lesser magical items (easy to both use and destroy, such as a magic carpet, health potion, invisibility cloak, etc.).

12 AP/8 DC: influence a city of mortals (~100k), influence a city-sized area, scry a city-sized area, create a collection of lesser magical minions (should be a reasonable match for most mortals, such as hellhounds, cherubs, horse-mounted Nazgul, etc.), immortalise a living creature or mortal, create a pocket dimension (must be bounded and unable to hold a population), reincarnate a mortal demigod.

14 AP/10 DC: influence one immortal, scry a state-sized area, create a single greater magical monster (should be challenging for even the best mortals to slay, such as a dragon, gorgon, fell beast-mounted Witch King, etc.), create a greater magical item (requires understanding of magic to use or destroy, such as a phylactery, enchanted weapons and armour, crystal ball, etc.), sanctify an area for +2 (max 4 per god).

Detectable actions

16 AP/12 DC: influence a state of mortals (~1M) or a small group of immortals (~10), influence a state-sized area, scry a country-sized area, induce a celestial phenomenon (comet, eclipse, aurora, etc.), create a sentient species, create a +2 domain religious artefact (max 3 per god).

18 AP/14 DC: influence a country of mortals (~10M), influence a country-sized area, scry a continent-sized area, create a plane of reality (can be unbounded and capable of sustaining a population), create a +2 domain/-2 weakness demigod (max 2 per god).

20 AP/16 DC: influence a continent of mortals (~100M), influence a continent-sized area, scry the entire planet, create a law of reality (such as a system of magic for mortals to use, or an objective morality), create a supernaturally gifted sentient species, assign a chosen people for +2 (1 per god).

22 AP/18 DC: influence every mortal on the planet, influence the entire planet, despoil a +2 sanctified area.

24 AP/20 DC: destroy a +2 artefact, confer a -2 weakness to a demigod, banish a god for a turn, announce a prophesy.

30 AP/24 DC: destroy a demigod, confer a -2 weakness to another god.

40 AP/30 DC: destroy a god.



Player
Deity
Domains/Weaknesses


Garjel_blah
Chern
+4 Decay, -2 Downtrodden


Godzillarich
Grawissen
+2 Mining, +2 Knowledge, -2 Unknown


Megadraco
Kahar-Djin
+2 Paths, +2 Thresholds, -2 Unexplored


Demonjazz
Alatadriel
+2 Fire, +2 Foxes, -2 Arrogance


The Jojo
Avestra
+2 Nature, +2 Birds, -2 Primeval


Batcathat
Ymon-Thal
+2 Life, +2 Death, -2 Unliving


El-the Ellie
Vreyalas
+2 Community, +2 Forging, -2 Darkness


Artemis P
Nestellbam
+4 Preservation, -2 Sanity


gac3
Timorin
+2 Drama, +2 War, -2 Fear


sadatg
Enheduanna
+2 Devotion, +2 Subjugation, -2 Autonomy


Mira_124
Opulon
+2 Cosmology, +2 Divination, -2 Focus


flyinglemur
Dulnori
+2 Fortune, +2 Ambition, -2 Stability


Maryring
Petr
+2 Water, +2 Healing, -2 Pain


DarthArminius
Su'ule
+2 Sorcery, +2 Monsters, -2 Willfulness


AlexanderML
Yir
+2 Sun, +2 Majesty, -2 Arrogance

[The JoJo]

Avestra, 1/25 AP, Sunset Forest, Ebonbark Bay

In the wake of the attack, a great gathering was called. Being divided into many small communities, the Crow People had no single leader to call such an event. Rather, whispers went out via the trees until the demand for a meeting reached critical mass, and then a time and place was set. On the day preceding the first full moon of winter, in a clearing in the north of Sunset Forest, they began to arrive.

The Crow People did not by nature feel comfortable gathering together in large groups, and so each community took their place in the grand circle, a suitable distance left between them and everyone else. Avestra herself landed on a branch in a tree at the edge of the clearing in the form of a sparrow. The first to speak a young hunter in his prime, his chest still marked with a raw burn.

"The Fox People break the sanctity our forest. They steal our food. They kill our children." As he spoke, he increasingly fell into the more primal hand gestures. "Blood must be repaid with blood! We must make the tallheads bleed, as we have bled!"

This was met by an enthusiastic round of applause. The next few speakers all spoke in similar terms, promising ever more elaborate schemes of revenge as grief and anger poured freely.

"We will burn their huts from the inside!"

"We will offer their innards to the birds!"

"We will pile up their skulls to the roof of the world!"

Finally, it was the turn of an old woman to speak. The Crow People fell silent -- there was a long ingrained respect for those who didn't have long to live, and therefore were unlikely to be acting in self-interest.

"And then what after this great war? To kill them all would be impossible. There are too many of them. What happens when they come back to the forest for revenge with their sharp spears?" She paused. "Then, there would be no more Crow."

The assembled bowed their heads, for in their hearts, they knew her words were right. The old woman raised a single finger in the air.

"Do not give up hope. Justice belongs to the Great Crow."

And with that, Avestra knew what she had to do.


~

Avestra strode through the Al-Sinai settlement, one hand curling her coiled raven hair. It was the first time she had taken the form of a mammal and she wasn't sure she had got the biomechanics exactly right, but from the response of the young men guarding the village gate, the facade seemed effective enough.

There were only a few settlements within a day's march of Sunset Forest, and so overhearing the accounts of survivors at the great gathering, not to mention the whispers of the trees, it didn't take a genius to work out who was responsible. Strictly speaking, there were some who might have had a more direct hand in the atrocities. But Avestra knew that bringing peons to justice wouldn't dissuade their leaders. Only by cutting the head off the snake could she set an example that would be remembered.

"I bring an urgent message for the Khan," Avestra said, holding up her hands to show she was unarmed. The guards looked at her suspiciously, but she could see Khan Ormotag through the doorway, eyeing her with interest.

"Come in, but make it quick," he called. Avestra smiled sweetly at the two guards, before entering and shutting the door behind her.

"So what is..?" the Khan began to say, his voice trailing away as the maiden before him melted away. In her place stood a churning mass of flapping wings and nipping beaks.

"Please, wait! I... I was only following... she told me to!"

"Who?" Avestra asked coldly.

"A... Alat... adriel! The f... fox queen!"

Alatadriel. Avestra would remember that name. She had no particular love of torture, but then nature could be a cruel mistress. This was one of those times.


~

The guards outside the hut heard a fraught exchange, followed by moaning. They glanced at each other and were about to leave their posts for a few minutes, when suddenly a bloodcurdling scream pierced the air. The guards hurled themselves at the door, but they found it shut tight. The screaming continued for half a minute or more, the guards still fumbling at the door, when a deathly silence fell again. The door swung open in their hands.

The first thing they saw was Khan Ormotag was splayed across the ground, his face pecked almost beyond recognition. His personal items had been scattered around the hut, as if blown by a small hurricane. On the Khan's corpse lay a single, black feather.

1 AP/0 DC: Influence a single mortal by bringing divine justice down upon Khan Ormotag.

[Demonjazz]

Alatadriel: 9/25 AP. The Greater Orcishtal Mountains.

It's often said that deserts are harsh places. We have all heard tales of men dropping dead from thirst as the sun simmers all down below. Of Death Valley, and bandits hiding in the outcrops, treacherous mountain trails, getting killed over a gallon of water and of barbarian men attacking all they see.
There had never been a place that had more exemplified these tales than The Greater Orcishtal Mountains. A winding set of mountains that tracked the coast South of Ebonbark. Most would go around the vast mountain range, but those that did not would find themselves in an interconnecting web of valleys, canyons, and gorges between gigantic peaks of wrought sandstone. Barely weathered, the mountains looked like shards of glass jutting into the heavens. When you were not in the steaming sun that baked this land, you were in dark and shadowy passes, where bandits lurked around every corner, and the venomous bites and stings of the wildlife could kill a man within the hour.

These bandits, the people that called the dangerous terrain of Oricshtal home. They are called Orcs. A fierce creed of men and women who value strength above all. Strength of character, strength of will, and strength of arm. "All with all and none with weakness" was the motto of the Orcs. A strange saying to outsiders as were most of their ways. It meant to put your full strength into any task you take. Not many had come to this barren place out of choice, fewer still called it the motherland of their birth. The Orcs are a tribe of outcasts, criminals, and with increasing regularity men and women of magic. For whatever reason, and it was forbidden to speak of the reason, one could not live in the comforting homes of green valleys, tropical bays, and great stretching steppes. They would travel to a place that would take anyone if they could prove their worth.
Coming alone with skin smeared green and bearing tattoos of your totem animal is considered a peace offering to the Orcs. Once you speak to the chieftain, you must wander into the desert for three days without water, upon the end of the third night, someone truly strong would find themselves on the most sacred cave of the orcs. They called it the Cave of The Earthmother, which opened out into a small ravine. Once there, you would bring back a blessed flower which only grew underneath a mighty waterfall. It was only when you brought back the flower unharmed could you become blood brothers with The Orcs, drinking the blood of the one who wished to take you under the roof of their home carved into the mountain.
This one in the Orcish tongue is called your Nak. Translated literally it means 'Protector', but the relationship between the Nascine (The initiate) and their Nak is closer to that of a mentor. It is expected that a Nascine is to learn the ways of the tribe under their Nak, typically taking up the trade of their Nak. In return, The Nak swears an oath to protect them from any harm. Typically relationships between Nascine and Nak often have rough starts as the two live together under the same roof, but most end up developing a close bond and understanding, some even marrying each other later in life. Referred to as Soul Partners or in the Orcish Tongue Naksaline.
Nestled into a narrow canyon with a river running through the Orcs rely mainly on fishing and the plants growing on the banks to sustain them. They guard their lands fiercely as resources are hard to come by in the Orcishtal Mountains. It is not unheard of for lost travelers to be attacked without question when they wander too close to the Orc's land.

Alatadriel sat on a mountain face overlooking the tattooed orcs at work in the valley. She positioned, gauging the view as she aligned in her mind the position of the sun during Summer Solstice. She touched the earth below her sensing the inside of the mountain. Pockets of iron, gold, silver, copper, tin, and all manners of important minerals ran throughout the entire range of the Orcishtal.
Hmm, yes. This would suit would her plans quite nicely.
Alatadriel with the motions of a conductor of an ochestra reached her hands up high. A rumbling came from below as the sands parted, great pillars of stone extending up from underneath the air. As they grew, the stone wrapped around itself, intermixing as it grew taller and taller. Exceeding the highest mountain of the range. With a twist of her foot, the great stone structure rippled as doors, windows, and chimneys manifested themselves onto its sides. Another twist of her foot and two great pits of fire could be seen on opposite ends of the building.
As Alatadriel stopped, the Orcs had already started to gather at the foot of the canyon to look up at the gigantic structure, dwarfing their homes several times over. It two massive domed buildings, meeting in the middle, at the center where they overlapped, a gigantic chimney stood erect, piercing into the sky.
Alatadriel pounded her feet on the ground as the Orcs started to make their way up the mountain face, stone stairs carved themselves into the mountain letting the people of the canyon ascend with ease.

"LISTEN NOW!" The godly voice of Alatadriel boomed. "You, strongest of the strong, outcast and betrayed, The feared Orc Barbarians! You have been told that this land is barren! That it is weak! I will not abide by this insult, the strong deserve a strong land! A hub of mighty civilization which none have seen before! Your land is not weak! It must simply be worked!"
Alatadriel stopped for dramatic effect. "Now stands a god before you ready to deliver a marvel of engineering to your people! The Twin Furnaces! One dome representing the flesh. Possessing the kilns that will be used to make fuel for your fires! The ever-burning pyres of Alatadriel! The other dome representing the Spirit where you will take the metal of your land to be worked, and made into the strongest tools and weapons which the world has seen! Their chimneys intermingling into one. A union between the two. For the bounties of the spirit cannot be reaped without the fuel of the flesh! A union much like the one I propose! A union between my land, and yours!
You do not possess the raw materials you need to run these mighty fires for long! But our land, the land of Al-Sinai lacks the metals that are needed for our forge! The strong made stronger by bringing their strengths together! Travel up your river onto the bay, and two days north of here there will be my people. Rich in lumber. It is only when you make this journey and return with a member of my people will you be able to access this forge."
"And what if we enter your forge before than?!" An Orc is always ready to speak his mind.
"My minions will make short work of you." Gouts of flame erupted from the mouths of the Hua-Ling surrounding the forge. "These creatures are sacred and will tend the fires upon this agreed-upon union. If anyone ever lets these fires run out after their lighting. Great calamity will befall him, and his nation."
And with her announcement made. Alatadriel vanished in a puff of smoke.

The Orc Chieftan turned to his second in command. "Ha, it funny. Powerful woman made very large dong." He said making a series of obscene gestures. Orc humor was not very subtle.

4 AP/2 DC: influence a large landmark or building.
Creating the Twin Furnaces to unite her now twin nations. She has made one of the largest structures known to man in the backwater nation of Orcishtal. A structure large enough to be seen by anyone in the area.
+2 from fire due to making furnaces. And +2 to foxes for her minons protect her great shrine.

[Godzillarich]

Grawissen: Speaker of the Forgotten, Ebonbark Bay 3/25 AP

The chieftain laid on the ground with a few dozen more bodies, motionless... Graw examined the chieftain... “I am familiar with the disease but this seems so sudden…” he thought to himself. A few of the people in a small village dropped dead. Graw told the others to stay away while he examined, didn’t want anyone else to be infected “...is this the work of my kind?”

“Daddy?” a voice in the distance called out. The Skelton got turned to see the chieftains little girl standing behind him. “Is that it can be all right?”

Graw simply stood there and put his head down. ”Morgana… He is but knowledge now…”

All she could do then was cry. Graw came up to the girl to comfort her. “Why?”

”I don’t not know…” he responded. ”Come on let’s go back to the village…” as they were walking back a tingling pain was in the back of his mind. He lied to Morgana, Ymon-Thal was what they shouted it out, a monster...a monster like him...
___________________________

Back with the Prehist people

All eyes were on Graw when he returned to the village. There was a feeling of uneasiness about the skeleton God again. He came to the village and a few days later a good portion of it died. ”Only a short while ago there was so much happiness here… Now there is only fear…”

“Graw…” Morgana mumbled as she tapped on Graw leg. “I want to show you something” she brought Graw to the chieftains house. “I understand you can’t really fit through the door. Let me bring in outside.” She went into the house and came out with a few pieces of stone rocks. “My father was working on this, he was going to tell you about it once he was finished but now…” Morgana sunk her head down. “... I just thought you would want to know about it, you love finding about new things”

Graw grabs the slabs of rock and examined it, it appeared to be some kind of schedule, a calendar. ”The chieftain was indeed a wise man… I’m having trouble understanding this.” Graw then smiled. ”He may have started this but I will finish this…” he then turned around and started walking away ”I will return little one but first there is much I need to learn.”

[Godzillarich]

Grawissen: Speaker of the Forgotten, Ebonbark Bay 3/25 AP

It has been a few days and Grawissen was still trying to figure it out. Over time he heard tales of the other gods, only bits and pieces but one caught his eye. ”Yir…” stories passed around that he would only answer those who climbed his mountain or caught his eye from the sky. Grawissen thought about going to the mountains but another idea struck his head. He grabbed a rock and then stared at the sky. ”I hope he doesn’t mind the interruption…” he then threw the rock straight at the sun, going for the sky like a bolt of lightning.


The rock that was thrown up high into the sky flew far higher than any bird or cloud, yet it burned before the light of Yir long before it could reach it's form. Yir noted the rock, and looked down onto the world speaking with bemusement in it's voice.

"What creature threw this pebble at me? A godling?"

”A fellow God... Graw yelled out from the ground. ”I need your help with something, to help a dead man to fulfill his life’s work...”

While the sun did not have a face, it's voice was immediately filled with disinterest:
"Why should I care for someone that is already gone? Their life is finished and anything done after is just helping YOURSELF. Why should I care for what YOU want?"

Graw was taken a back by this persons arrogance. ”A mortal has so much to offer even after the deaths... their creations and knowledge can even put ours to shame and can be as everlasting as what we make."

Yir in tern was also taken aback by the other god's words; seeing Grawissen (though Yir knew not it's name) as selfish for using a dead mortal as reason to bid it's plea and incredibly foolish in it's assessment of mortals. In fact, the light around the god began to intensify as Yir focused it's attention more, irritation in it's voice as it stated:

"What foolishness you speak, a godling of all creatures should know that mortals are doomed in any attempt at creation! They know nothing of the world, in-fact, were it not for MY light they would know nothing at all! How can they surpass the light which gives them life and sight?"
”is that so…” Graw yelled out to the raging God in the sky. ”...well if you think mortals cannot measure up to a God... I propose a challenge…” Graw then turned his attention to the shore. ”...there is a mortal that’s extremely intelligence I know… If she can show you something you do not know then you will help me complete the chieftains calendar…” Graw then stared back to the sky again. ”...but if truly know all... then I will be your servant for eternity.”


Such a foolish god, Yir thought, to put itself in such a bet.

A child? Yir saw the tiny girl, and saw nothing noteworthy to it's grand design. How could such a thing know anything about the world that Yir has not seen over for it's eternal watch? The sun's voice calm once more, speaking with bit of amusement:

"That mortal could never uncover any secret I know not by it's own design. So I accept your challenge, speak with the child, and have her show me what knowledge she holds that could elude the light that is ME!"

______________

Later that day Morgana walked out of her hut, carrying something wrapped in cloth. Graw looked at Morgana and nodded. ”are you ready?

Morgana looked up at Graw and did a simple smile. “I got a real surprise for him, I’m ready.”

”She is ready to show you… A thing you have not yet seen.” as Graw said these words Morgana remove the cloth from the object. It glowed in the radiance of Yir sunshine. A pure gold rock.

“My dad found this a long time ago,” Morgana told the sky. “Founded it in a cave, thought it would bring good luck to the village one day.”

Yir looked down upon the world, it's presence made the land seem to glow as more of the sun's light focused down onto the land; however, what glowed most was the pure piece of gold as Yir stared at it.

The sun did not speak for a long while, it's light just covering the rock; the closest thing this could be equated to would be a mouth agape. When it did speak, it's voice was tense holding back frustration:

"Is this trickery? Where did you find this? Did you create this, godling?"

The sun was not really paying attention to the girl, only focused on the gold and god.

”You would be able to sense that this was a creation of mine… Graw looked up and smiled, well as much of the skeleton could smile. ”This is a substance the chieftain showed me when I first came to this village... it is called Gold an extremely rare and valuable material... Graw then patted Morgana on the head ”In all my time below the earth I never found any of this substance... so I assumed you knew nothing about it either... Because you only judge things based on what your light can shine on... not what is hidden beneath the crust... Like deep in the earth or the minds of mortals.”

[Alatadriel should be noted here for saving Morgana's life from Yir accidentally lighting her on fire.]

For a moment the sun's light seemed to overwhelm the stone, with the ground shaking beneath the humans from the Yir's uncontrolled magic.

"UGH, I..."

But as suddenly as this display of emotion came about, it disappeared, replaced with a subtly soft glow over Morgana's home that held the sweet promise of the light of spring.

"...Fine, godling. I now accept that there are things in darkness I need learn."

Speaking to Morgana, Yir said:
"Little one, you did well standing before my gaze."

To Grawissen, Yir said:
"Godling, as agreed I shall help you with your 'calendar'."

”Thank you. Graw then pulled out the components of the calendar. ”Now let us begin."

1 AP/0 DC:influence one mortal, with the influence of the gods Morgana is able to finish her father’s calendar. +2 to knowledge, to give have the secrets of Yir bestowed upon Morgana.

+2 Sun: The sun gave a new perspective on things."

"On that day Yir gave up the secrets of how the world circled around it and how Yir circled around the world, giving what advice it could on keep time using the distance between itself and the world. "


holiday(multiple days)=solstices and equinoxes, holidays happening four times a year celebrating the solstices and equinoxes, along with Kahar-Djin

January=Yirmid, named after him Yir.
holiday= New Year’s, 1rst. The holiday celebrating Yir to mark the new year. The people watch as the sun rises to praise the new year that Yir has given them.

February= Opuloner named after Opulon.
holiday= heaven Festival 20th, a festival honoring Opulon. Every home lights a lantern to get a blessing from the goddess.

March= Avest named after Avestra.
The flight of the birds 19. A celebration of nature by watching the migration of the birds in the sky and worship of Avestra

April= Timorly, named after Timorin.
Fools day 1st= the day of pranks and tricks to honor Timorin

May= Ymhl named after Ymon-Thal.
holiday= the Memorial of life-and-death 15. A day to celebrate life and respecting the dead and honor of Ymon-Thal

June=Alatalin named after Alatadriel
holiday= Day of the Fox 11. A day to appreciate the chosen beings of the goddess Alatadriel by leaving them treats.

July= Vrey named after Vreyalas
holiday= forging day 29, a day of competition between those of the Forge, to show mortal craftsmanship to the God Vreyalas

August= Pely named after Petr
holiday= the day of the sea 7, a day of party at sea, lakes and rivers to show how much we appreciate Petr for water.

September= Nestel named after Nestellbam
holiday= Golden knowledge day 15, a celebration of the Prehist chieftains Morgana’s victory over the sun God Yir with the help of Grawissen. Knowledge is passed around and studied to honor Grawissen.

holiday= the day of preparation 23, an act to show Nestellbam that we are prepared for anything as we get ready for fall and winter.

October=Cherntor named after Chern
holiday= day of fear 31, all fear this day as they say Chern is strongest year on this day. We celebrate the decay to appease him.

November= Su named after Su'ule
holiday= day of sorcery 25, a day to appreciate and celebrate the magic that the goddesses gave us.

December= Dul named after Dulnori
holiday= charity day 25, to spread the fortune to those less fortunate so all may appreciate Dulnori glory.

[Batcathat]

Ymon-Thal, 7/25 AP, Boa Jungle

Mortals had such an odd view of things, Ymon-Thal though as both of him hovered in the air above one of the many small villages in the jungle. As it happened this particular village had been touched twice by his actions. Beneath the Twin God a man who'd been deadly sick for days was eating and chatting with his family. At the other side of the tiny village another family was silently weeping, still shocked at their lover and mother's unexpected death.

Mourning a death. Celebrating a life. Like children celebrating or grieving getting a red marble instead of a blue one. They saw death as an ending and as the opposite of life, when really it was more like pearls on a string. Life following death following life following death.

Well... no, he interrupted himself, not pearls on a string, more like pearls bouncing around at random in a giant bowl. Souls buzzing around like confused bees. Something ought to be done about that chaos and disorder.

“Someone can”, Thal concluded out loud.

“Ooh, can it be me?”, his other self responded.

Thal didn't respond as both of Ymon-Thal knew the answer. A plan was taking shape. It would take a lot of power, much more than he had left after his recent success and the failure before it.

"But I want to do something!", Ymon whined but suddenly perked up as he noticed how some of the villagers below was taking notice. "Ooh! Can I talk to them?"

It was something of a novel concept to Ymon-Thal, having spoken through thousands of mortals but never to a single one. "I suppose."

Ymon-Thal descended until they were flying just above the heads of the mortals gathering beneath them. The crowd eventually grew far larger than the small village's population. It seemed... possible that the villagers had noticed the god flying above them earlier than Ymon-Thal had realized and sent word to their neighbors. Even in a world were miracles seemed to grow as dense as the trees of the Boa Jungle, flying twins were still quite a sight.

"We are Ymon-Thal, God of Life and Death."

"Hi", Ymon added, waving at the villagers and delighted when some of the smaller children waved back.

The rest of the mortals seemed more preoccupied with Thal's introduction. Clearly knowledge of the last words before some died and others stopped dying had spread.

Both of Ymon-Thal smiled. Ymon's wide grin signaled happiness, friendship and joy. Thal's did not.

"You have seen our actions, seen that no one is beyond death, beyond life. You are not alone, from this village you could walk for days and days and still meet mortals who know the name and power of Ymon-Thal."

"No extra babies though", Ymon said with a gloomy expression and shrugged. "Didn't work."

"But you are special. Chosen", Thal said to the people he had randomly encountered flying over the jungle. "Only you have been visited and spoken to like this. You are favored by life itself."

"Yeah! I really like you!"

"In exchange for this honor you are to carry our message to the less fortunate. Go out into the jungle, into the world, and spread word of Ymon-Thal. We have much to tell you..."

Thal lowered himself to the ground, quickly followed by Ymon, and gestured at the mortals to come closer.


Influence a village of mortals (6 AP/3 DC)
+ 2 Life, + 2 Death
Ymon-Thal is attempted to influence a village to act as missionaries, going out into the world and spread his words (if/when the action passes I'll probably go into more detail about what the words are, but he's basically starting his religion). The idea isn't for all the influenced to always be out preaching, it's more along the lines of turning the village (I'm picturing it as more of a collection of neighboring villages, totaling about 1000 people) into a hub for Ymon-Thal worship.

[Maryring]

The sea can be a harsh benefactor. It provides bounties of water and salt. Fish and crustaceans. Bountiful fruits beneath it's sapphire surface. Sigrid was only going to try for one more fish when the ocean turned wild. Waters swirled, wind howled. She was thrown into the churning waters. Air escaped her lungs. Darkness wrapped itself about her like a terrible blanket. There was barely a sliver of consciousness left.

Then a miracle happened.

The human woman feels solid ground beneath her feet. It rises rapidly, carrying her from the cold grave of the ocean to dry land. She coughs violently, emptying herself of all the sea water she involuntarily swallowed.

"Bwuh..." She gazes about herself. Her eyes sting. Her lungs hurt. She has scrapes and bruises on her body. But she is alive. "I'm alive? I'm alive?! Praise Ymon-Thal! Praise..." She blinks and looks about herself. 'Weird. Why...'

"Ahoy!" The question of who Ymon-Thal is, is put aside when a face pokes out from behind one of the many rocks littering the place. He... It might be a he. The chest is flat, but his features are surprisingly soft and rounded. Olive tan skin. Brown hair. Green eyes. He wears a simple robe of a material she doesn't recognize. No shoes. And there is a flower of white petals stuck on his head. "Are you okay? You seem to have suffered quite a rough ride."

"I will live stranger." It hurts to stand up, but she refuses to appear weak before this one. "Who are You? You don't look like anyone from the tribe, and we are the only People around."

"Oh. I have been around a while now. You probably didn't see me because I was too busy with this island... that your boat on the rocks over there yes?"

"The what now?" Sigrid glances about herself, and true enough. Her boat lies nearby. Stuck upon a nearby small hill covered in barnacles and kelp. Fish flop uselessly on the ground, gasping in the thin air. "My boat. How am I going to get it down from There?"

"Allow me. This is my fault after all." The stranger walks over to the hill. In one leap he jumps up to the ship, a jump that has to be at least five People tall. He lifts the ship in one hand, and then flicks it into the ocean as if skipped a stone. Then a thin stream of water flows from the ocean, gathers up the fish, the oars, the baskets... everything. A job that would take at least a half day is done in mere moments. The stranger leaps back down before Sigrid, offering a friendly smile.

"What was. How did... you are a Seidrmann?"

"Not quite." The man smiles as he reaches a hand out. Mist flows from his palm, wrapping itself around her wounded body. There is a soft, gentle tingle as scrapes close and the hoarse rasping in her lungs disappears. "I am... actually, I'll let you guess who I am. Later. For now, walk with me please."

Sigrid is torn. Despite the man's apparent friendliness, she can't help but be afraid of the sheer power he is so casually displaying. At the same time, he did fix her boat. And if he wanted to hurt her, well, following him or not wouldn't stop him. "Very well... where are we going?"

"I'm going to give you a tour of the island." The man says matter of factly, taking a few steps ahead before waiting to let Sigrid catch up. The ground is mostly bare rock, still wet from when it was beneath the ocean. Some places the rock is covered in drying kelp and algae. Other places are covered in sand and mud. Ahead of them, on one side of the island, is even a coral forest that stretches out beneath the surface of the sea.

With just a bit of walking, Sigrid has the chance to look across the new island proper. It is incredibly massive. It could take days to cross the entirety of it. And was she always that far from the mainland? She can see the coast of her home, but only barely. And already a thick mist is starting to appear. Soon the mainland will be invisible to her. "What is this place? Why is it here? And do I understand you right? You made this place?"

"This is a sanctuary." The stranger gestures to a sandy beach further ahead. Soft, pearly white sand stretches out up to stony ground that is being seeded with dirt and sand, carried by wind and water. A seagull stands on a reef just outside the small bay, screeching in confusion at the island. "It's not much yet. But already new life is seeded on the surface. Soon, there shall be trees bearing fruit, and flowers carrying sweet nectar. Insects will come and nest in the trees. Animals will come to dine upon the bounty of the land." The stranger turns towards a nearby cave and walks into it.

"A place for beasts? Why?" The stranger walks ahead in silence, into the dark mouth of the cave. Sigrid follows. The air inside is cool. Small pools of water are everywhere, and a larger pool stretches ahead of them, only to part itself when the stranger approaches. The walls remain parted for him to walk through. Sigrid waits for a moment at the edge, then runs forward. She makes it all the way to the other end and turns around. The water remains parted. Until the stranger snaps his fingers at least, at which the water comes crashing down to create a pool once more. "That was scary and exciting in equal measure. But you're being very tightlipped about things."

"Mmm." The stranger brushes a hand against a nearby wall, before he clutches his hand around a piece of rock. It breaks loose easily, and he throws the rock to Sigrid who catches it on instinct. "That's because I want you to draw your own conclusions where possible."

Sigrid stares blankly at the stranger, then at the stone in her hand. It's crystalline. Faintly azure, but flecked with specs of red, green, yellow and purple. It also glows slightly, which makes Sigrid realize that it must be the rock that's lighting the cave. That's why the place isn't completely dark. "You want me to draw conclusions?"

"For the most part yes. I will tell you that what you hold in your hands is magicite. It's a particular substance that is beneficial to the use of not just seidr, but all kinds of magic."

"But... I can't use any magic." The stranger just walks on without a word, forcing Sigrid to jog just to keep up with him. He continues on in silence, leaving Sigrid to look over the walls. Besides this "magicite", there seems to be many pretty colours within the stone itself. Slight reds, greys, even glimmers that look like gold, running in lines across the walls. The faint glow of magicite eventually yields to proper daylight, and the two exit into an overlook to a large secluded pit of sorts. The stranger bends down, sizing up the steep walls, seeming particularly interested in a small, narrow valley that leads out to the sea.

"This place is going to be full of birds in time." He says without looking up. "They're not to be hunted."

"Hrm? What do you mean?"

"What I said. The birds who are down there, sheltered in this secret place, are not to be hunted. Elsewhere one may do as one pleases, but this place is sacred to Avestra. There shall be no disrespect shown."

Sigrid walks up beside him, kneeling down to watch. Stone, barnacle, drying, saltbaked kelp. It's hard to think that this'll be full of birds. "I've spent most of my life fishing anyway. I don't think I could hunt a bird if I tried."

The stranger merely smiles and stands up once more, continuing to walk up the mountains. There's a rather narrow path, and several of the rocks are unstable. But whenever Sigrid is about to step on one, the stranger warns her and guides her on a safer path. As they continue upwards, Sigrid notices that despite all her exertion, she doesn't feel any fatigue. And when she turns to look behind her she sees that the ocean is far, far, far below. She can only see her boat as a tiny speck, small enough that she could hide it behind a fingernail. Shaking her head in disbelief she hurries after the stranger into another cave. Although this feels quite peculiar. The walls are much smoother, and there are carvings on the wall displaying imposing figures that fill her with a sense of dread and wonder in equal measure. Peculiar engravings have been carved into the walls at certain locations, and though she does not recognize the signs, she instantly gets a feel of what they mean. "Opulon, Grawissen, ... Ymon-Thal?" There's that word again.

When she finally catches up with the Stranger again, it's at the very top of these caverns. Above them is a dome of translucent crystal, giving an unobstructed view of the sky above. Beneath the dome are walls, and on the walls are more carvings that look like stars. And carvings that give her a sense of "Opulon" whatever that means. The Stranger stands at an archway that leads out, where his gaze is upon a large lake. The lake is at the bottom of a crater that marks the top of the island. Around it are smaller peaks. The tallest of which they are in, but there are others, some with much larger cavern entrances than what's here. "This lake, especially, will one day be very important." The Stranger turns to Sigrid, smiling as he offers his hand to her. "Let's get you back home. I've taken enough of your time."

"Hold on. I still don't know why you've taken me here!"

"Hrm... you haven't figured it out yet?" The Stranger rubs his chin, gesturing to the walls. "You don't recognize the names on the walls here?"

"Should I?"

"Yes, I think you should. They are the names of Gods."

Sigrid looks from the walls to the Stranger. "Gods? Then that... hrm. In that case."

"Seems you're getting closer. Good. Now come." The Stranger calmly takes her hand and a thick mist envelops them both. The whole thing takes mere moments, and before she can react they're down near the shore, standing before a narrow land-bridge that connects the island to the mainland. There are three large stone archs on the path, and there seems to be a peculiar shimmer that distorts light passing through the archways. "There is one last thing I want to show you before we leave. These are the gates that protect the island. It is impossible to enter without passing through these gates."

"What's so special about them? They look like just regular archways."

"You're standing inside, gazing out. But from the outside, even the pathway through the archways is impossible to discern without the proper mindset. To enter, you must first know the Path. The Path can only be fully revealed by divine intent. Otherwise it is hidden from the waking world, only visible in the world of dreams."

"I don't understand..."

"In time you will. Once you know the Path, you must pass the three gates. The Gate of Self-Reflection. Only that which actual awareness of itself as a living creature may pass the gate. Second is the gate of Tranquility. To pass that, your heart must be filled with peace. There must be not a shred of malevolent intent in your being. The third is the Gate of Sorcery. The gate may only be opened with the proper Key."

There's a moment of silence as Sigrid takes all of it in, before she looks curiously up at the Stranger. "And this key is?"

"A creation of magic. A sorcerous spell of magic. Magically purified water, infused with restorative mist, and frozen in a particular shape. A shape you will come to know."

"Huh? But... I am incapable of performing Seidr."

The Stranger looks warmly at Sigrid, before gently placing a hand on her shoulder. "No such thing. My gift is meant to be useable to all. You just need a tiny push, and you will find that you and your descendants may become among the greatest masters of ice in the whole world. Because this is what I request of you. Protect the mold of the key, keep it in your family, teach it to your children, and teach their children to teach their children again. Let this blessing flow through your lineage, because you are the very first gatekeeper of this island. In time, pilgrims will arrive from far off. They will have instructions of their own. It will be the duty of your family to grant them the entrance they have made themselves worthy of. Do a good job, and perhaps we shall meet again in another life. But for now... wake up."

---

Sigrid sits up in her boat with a gasp, blinking at the sharp sunlight burning down on her. The boat's stuck on the sandy beach, and rushing towards her is her husband. The poor man looks visibly distraught and he practically throws himself around Sigrid, hugging her tight. "You're back! You're safe! Thank goodness. I thought I'd lost you to the waves! Are you okay?!"

"Yeah... yeah I'm fine." Sigrid looks at her husband, then back out to the sea. Was it all a dream? A large foggy cloud has settled out there on the ocean. That isn't abnormal and yet... she allows her husband to help her out of the ship and guide her back towards their home. As her feet brush against the wet sand, small crystals of ice form in her footsteps.

[Maryring]

All things considered, today could possibly be worse, but Fahraad is hard pressed to think of how. First, his father, his mentor and his girlfriend all perish from some peculiar freak accidents, then a raiding party drives his tribe out onto the savannah, where their only remaining waterskin ends up ruptured in yet another freak accident, and in a foolish attempt to be a brave young lad Fahraad volunteered to scout for water, which has put him in his current predicament.

Beneath the tree he has sequestered himself in are two large canines. They circle about the tree, with deep snarling growls deep in their throat. Occasionally barking up at him. At one point they look like they'll finally leave him be, but Fahraad is only halfway down before something snaps at his heels and he scampers back up. "Shoo." He waves his hands at the multicoloured canine pacing at the foot of his tree. He claps his hands, punches the trees, breaks off a branch that he tries to throw at the dog. But nothing helps. The young pygmy feels like this might be his end. Stuck in a tree until thirst and exhaustion overtakes him and makes him fall down to the tearing jaws of a wild, vicious beast. He's halfway through the thought of just jumping down and making a mad sprint for it, in the faint hope that it'll help him survive, when he is given help from a very unlikely source.

Another pygmy approaches the tree. Fahraad doesn't recognize her, but she seems particularly clean and hearty. Thick limbs, somewhat portly belly, thick and lush hair. Clad in a blue... something that covers her whole body. She might be an unknown stranger, but even so. "Careful!" He shouts out to her. Would she even understand his language? "There are dangerous beasts here! Get to safety!"

"Thank you for your concern." Her voice is melodious. Like water raining upon small rocks. "But I am perfectly safe, and so are you."

"What?"

"These dears aren't here to eat you." She walks up to the rabid canines. Her steps are slow, methodical, yet unfaltering. The two dogs turn their attention from Fahraad and rush towards her, circling her while tentatively barking at her. "Aww, it's okay dears. You were just keeping this strange stranger away from your kill weren't you? Who's a good guard." She reaches out to brush a hand over the head of one of the dogs, who responds with a confused whining bark before visibly calming down to enjoy the earscritches that happen.

"How'd you calm them down like that? That was just..."

"Nature magic?" She looks up at Fahraad, grinning before reaching out to scritch the other painted dog behind the ear as well. "Well, maybe just a bit. Enough to understand what they wanted. The rest is just knowing enough about them to know how to treat them."

"You've... pacified them completely?" Fahraad takes a trying step down, but clutches back onto the branch when one of the dogs growl deeply at him.

"It's okay. They're trying to intimidate you, but they're not going to fight you if they don't have to. That's a pointless waste of energy. Especially since you don't have a kill they can chase you from."

"You speak almost like you think these beasts are intelligent." Fahraad takes a deep breath as he shimmies down a little. The growling continues, but at least they aren't nipping at his feet, so he slowly crawls all the way down. When his feet touch solid ground again he has the tree between himself and the dogs. A chance to run away. Instead, despite every fiber of his being telling him to get away, he takes a very tentative step forward, then a quick step back when the canines start to stand up.

"Shh. Shh..." The girl's finger brushes through their short fur, calming the dogs and coaxing them to relax again. "You're not going to see them sing praises to the gods or practice sorcery, but they're not unpredictable. With time, knowledge, and perhaps a smidge of magic, perhaps your tribe could enter a mutually beneficial relationship with them." The girl cups her hands, and they begin to glow faintly blue for a moment before they fill up with water. She offers the cupped hands to the dogs, who happily drink from her grip. "Why don't you try?"

"Wh? I can't do magic! I... I never learned how. I mean, I wanted to but..." He bites his lips, frowning as he tries to push the dark thoughts from his mind.

"I'm sure you can. Just give it a try. Cup your hands together like I do, concentrate, maybe even close your eyes if that helps, and then whisper the words."

"Oh. Right. The words." Fahraad frowns, cupping his hands as described. "Like all I do is say Water Come Forth and..." He blinks as indeed water springs forth in his hands, filling up to the point of overflowing. He lifts the "cup" to his lips and takes a sip. The water is sweet and fresh, clearer than he has tasted in ages. "... how? I mean..."

"Magic doesn't have to be hard. A good teacher helps a lot... which is why you should find a good teacher who can teach you more about how to perform magic."

"And... and where would I find that?"

"Well, that's the thing isn't it?" The young pygmy girl stands up, which makes the dogs stand up, pushing themselves against her side to demand more cuddles. "You've got an enormous talent for water magic. Your teacher there would be experimentation and experience. But learning other arts, well that'd require others with such talent in other branches of magic. There are currently nine of them after all. One which is particularly dangerous. Think of all you could learn if you had access to mentors outside your tribe."

"What craziness are you talking about? I don't know where you come from with your craziness, but my family was recently ruined by a raiding party. Why would I even want to have anything to do with... with barbarians?!"

"Because that's how the world is... not how the world must be." The pygmy stands up tall, waves goodbye and turns around, walking away from Fahraad with the animals in tow. "You have a gift for water. Use that, let your tribe drink their fill. And when everything has calmed down. When you're ready to take risks again, like you've always had the strength and bravery for before, remember this. Far away from here there is an island. An island bountiful with the blessings of nature and the gods. Go there. Bring your tribe if you can convince them. Bring these ones if you can befriend them." She itches the canines once more. "But know that you won't make the path there on your own. I shall see you in your dreams."

And just like that she's gone. She just walked and... vanished. As if she was never there in the first place. Fahraad looks down at his hands. They're still wet with water.

[AlexanderML]

The Tumera Green-Lands:

https://www.roamerica.com/wp-content/uploads/2018/12/Waterfall-Pure-ADK.jpg

South of the tall Stonethroe Mountains are the ancient temperate forests and creeks of the Tumera Green-Lands. Deep valleys and high hills litter this land, though none could be described as a mountain. Nearly every spring it is afflicted with floods and harsh winds from the north for a period of weeks, clearing the land near the rivers of any shrubbery that had grown there and giving the soil a dark hue. Each winter the land becomes dry, with all but the largest rivers fading away till spring.

Humans have made this place their home for many years, distinguished from other humans for their thinner frames and deathly complexion. Most live in neolithic villages, working the land to the best of their ability. Their warriors use stone knifes and wooden spears.



Rigeros the Tall of the Sahgori, Tumera Green-Lands:

Rigeros, like many other Sugradi giants, had traveled to the southern lands during the fall to explore and take claim of the lands of the Small-Folk; they were easy foes to cleanse from the land and many of the tribes of the Stonethroe Mountains wanted or needed more land to gather food and resources. While it was mostly the Tradono who came to these lands this season, many large Grigani had come as well, with a few individuals from the other chiefdoms like Rigeros himself.

This war-band had been raiding and enslaving the pathetic human villages of the region, very few of them having any sort of serious resistance. Rigeros had been acting as one of the advisers to the heads of the tribes, as well as using his miracles to help the war-band take over the Small-Folk. To this end he awoke everyday hours before anyone else to go through the purity rites required for the day.

Dawn came to the immense relief of the Sahgori priest. Rigeros's could feel the power of his god once more, strengthening his body and keeping him awake. Feeling capable once more, he began his duties he had for the Sugradi (giving advise, identifying problems, calling miracles). He had to keep much of his favor (mana) for later use, since scouts had arrived stating another village was nearby.

A few hours later, more information was making it's away around the camp. The village of small-folk were not fleeing, instead getting their warriors ready to face them. While not expected, it did not surprise the priest.

When Rigeros actually laid his eyes upon the small-folk, he was more disappointed than anything else. Since he was the only Sahgori among the war-band, two Tradono volunteered to guard him as he went to give the little men their warning. The tallest giant in the war-band, standing over twice the height of some of the small-folk, Rigeros was able to talk a few villages to give in to the war-band peacefully before and intended to try to do so again.

"Small-men, your brave to try and face the unstoppable force that is the Highest's chosen people, but if you think you can defeat us or even slow our step know that the all-mighty power of our will shall break you. If you submit, you shall live, if you do NOT submit, then we shall kill you and take everything from your home. Decide fast."



The human warriors were shaking, looking upon the tall monsters and seeing more behind them. The giants were even worse than they had expected, the tales they had heard were thought to have been exaggerated, but these giants were far too real. The chief and shaman tried to restore some fighting spirit, keeping the warriors standing but unwilling to charge.



Not fully grasping what the humans were feeling, Rigeros gave a half-hearted sigh thinking on the foolishness of the small-folk not submitting to the war-band. Signalling the warriors Rigeros laughed openly towards the humans.

"Then die puny men, for the Blessed!"

Another village sacked and it's inhabitants enslaved.



Rigeros, A Village in Tumera

The war-band had been very successful over the season, destroying or gaining the support of the nearly everyone they had come across within the lands of the weak small-folk; but summer was nearing and many of the Sugradi wanted to stay and establish themselves here. Some where even speaking on making a new Chiefdom here. Rigeros had found no reason to deny them, though he felt he'd speak of it in his prayers to Yir. He expected a vague feeling on how his god would feel on the matter, what he got was far more. With noon's light, the sun spoke.

"Servant of mine, I see you and I see the cleansing you and my other blessed have given this land. Most of the impure of this land have been cleansed or put beneath their betters. This pleases me. As reward by MY power I grant you the knowledge needed to make sure you keep this land."

The light of Yir touched the mind of Rigeros that day, granting the basic knowledge on construction. Using this, the first hill fort of the giants would be made within a month.

1/20 AP

-1 AP/DC 0 Influence single mortal

Yir grants the knowledge it has on the properties of surface materials and theory on design to the giant Rigeros the Tall, mainly so they can cement their control over the region of Tumera through hill forts, shrines to Yir, and great halls for the giants. Rigeros if successful will grant his insights to other giants.


To be done later!

For now, the important parts would probably be that the Tulmer are far more focused on infrastructure than the other chiefdoms, preferring to keep permanent settlements if possible, and are unabashed slavers of the local human tribes. To their fellow giants though they are very welcoming since they themselves come from a diverse background.

[gac3]

Timorin: Maddening Marsh 9AP
http://fav.me/d7gaqnq
https://www.deviantart.com/insolense/art/Marsh-450638198
https://www.deviantart.com/insolense/art/Marsh-450638198


Timorin quickly regretted his decision to sail blindly into the ocean with no entertainment. The boring overwhelmed him. He had figured he would hit something interesting fairly quickly but he found himself bored before his island paradise was even out of site. Dispite this, he sailed on. There was adventure to be had and people to entertain and have entertain him.

Luckily the boredom did not drive him mad before his surroundings changed. He had reached a vast Marsh filled with nomadic tribes of Neanderthals. As Timorin drifted, he watched the strange people who differed much from his pigmies back home. One tribe he followed for a while, in the shape of a frog.

On the third day he followed them, they discovered things had gone missing from what little possessions the tribe had. Timorin croaked with excitement as a case was afoot. The tribe investigated and found some of the missing items in the possession of a particularly small and lanky neanderthal. They were prepared to kill him on the spot, even as he proclaimed his innocence.

As Timorin watched, the man demanded a trial by the gods. This seemed particularly interesting to some of the attackers, but none knew how to go about it. In their hesitation, Timorin let out a large croak, the likes of which none present had ever heard from a true frog.

Each member of the tribe turned to face the sound to discover a small frog on sitting on a water lily. As they watched, the lily shifted in color until it's petals were blood red alternated with the black of death. The Lilly with the frog on it drifted to where the young potential thief had fallen. The frog then ate a single red petal off the flower and seemed to fall over into the water. None present saw the frog rise or swim away. They did however notice a strange snake slithering away from the spot the strange frog had disappeared.

Timorin had done all he could. Now they would do as they pleased. He hoped they would feed the lily to the thief to test his claim against what should have been seen as an act of a god. Maybe they would spare him just based on the whole weird performance alone. Maybe they would just go back to slowly pummelling him to death. It was all fine to Timorin. Either way, his lilies would spread


Create basic living species: Roulette Lily. The roulette Lily can be an excellent healing herb or a excellent poison. The results are random. The colors make no difference. On a single lily, some petals may be deadly while others may be life saving. Who knows? The person willing enough to try it does, I guess.

8 AP, DC 4, +2 Drama

[Garjel_blah]

Chern, 17/25 AP, Boa Jungle, with Opulon

As Opulon stretched her hands out to the sky, the storm raging all around, she felt the awareness of other gods. Her plea for help had reached the ears of many others and they also took steps to banish the storm before it could get any worse. One, two, three... Six other gods, one by one, sent their powers to aid her and Boa Jungle. Together, their combined willpower successfully drove the storm away, saving the jungle from any more devastation.

Not all of Boa had escaped the storm's effects, however. Five of the canopy pygmies had fallen, most likely from the storm, and the tribe was in mourning. With the severe circumstances that killed their tribesmen, the pygmies were unsure of what to do. Suddenly, a young girl, Sia, came up to her father and looked up at him, a mask of white wood in her hands.

"Father, father! I met a man down below who told me about the passing of some of our people. I... Where is mother? I don't see her anywhere!", the child said, looking frantically around, tugging at her father's arm. With a sad look in his eye, Tropha looked down at his daughter and guided her towards the five bodies, covered by a few large leaves each, save for their faces. Sia spotted her mother among the dead and fell to her knees, crying as only a child who had never felt anguish before can.

After not too long, Sia straightened back up and held the mask up to her father.

"I was given this by the strange man, he told me to carve masks like this for the... The d- the d-d-dead and to put it over their faces. W-we can bring them to a beautiful, starry hollow to rest after that", she said, still distraught but a hopeful gleam shining in her eyes.

Tropha, hearing this, gave her a wan smile and looked over at the families of the dead, giving a silent nod to them. Together, they worked to carve masks and bring the dead to the starry hollow, following Sia as guide.

Opulon watched this happening, curious, perched on a nearby branch above as an owl, her round eyes following the pygmies as they made their way to the hollow. She felt a presence nearby, one of the gods who had helped her, and looked towards him.

"You are... Chern, yes? Is this starry hollow your doing? I thank you, if so. I was not sure how to guide them through this tragedy."

Up in the canopy above his hollow, Chern observed the pygmies inspecting the hollow. He had taken on the form of a large vulture, eyes a luminous yellow behind his pale beak.

The vulture regarded Opulon.

"They would have managed. Managing is what mortals do best. I sometimes believe that it's we gods, who presume to watch them from above, who are most in need of guidance."

He looked back down at the mortals. One at a time they were carefully lowering the five deceased pygmies into glowing hollow, each member of the tribe contributing a supportive hand to ensure a smooth decent.

"But yes, I am Chern. And yes, I made this crypt. I'm glad it doesn't offend you. When the girl told me that you'd marked these pygmies, I was concerned at what you'd think of my own gift to them."

"There is no need for concern, my dear Chern. These people would have managed on their own, yes, but with our help they are able to cope more easily. I have been intending to take a more passive approach to helping them, but the passing of the storm proves otherwise. I felt your touch in dispelling the storm, thank you for that."

Opulon nodded her head at the vulture.

"So far, these have been my people, but I believe we can work together to help them grow even stronger."

"Yes," agreed the vulture, "that would be good. You care for them in life, when they have the time to gaze up at the night sky. And when their time under the stars is over, they will come to my starry crypt, and I will care for them in death. This is amenable to Chern."

Down in the hollow below them, all five bodies were lain down in the softly illuminated earth. One by one, Sia lowered a memory mask onto each peaceful face. The last to receive their mask was her mother, to whom she gave the mask of the stranger who had shown her the ritual.

Her hands lingered on the pale wood for a little longer than the others. A single teardrop landed below the left eye hole, leaving a glittering stain.

Some of the Boa pygmies spoke a few words to the dead. Respects were paid. Then they left the hollow. Over the years they could continue to place their dead in the starry crypt, for it was a sacred place. And with each fresh corpse, the glowloam would spread, enlarging the crypt to make way for new graves.

Sanctify the Starry Crypt for +2 (14 AP/10 DC)

+4 decay, because it's a crypt.

Following the funeral of the five dearly departed jungle pygmies, Chern led Opulon into the Crypt to show her his subterranean starscape, and to pay their respects to the now and future dead. At this moment he will attempt to sanctify the Starry Crypt.

+2 Divination, +2 Cosmology to help with sanctifying the Starry Crypt.

Opulon aids Chern in the sanctification process, pouring Divination magic into the spell, causing any further pygmy children to receive dreams of the Crypt upon the first death they experience, as a welcome.

[Maryring]

When the sun rises up between the peaks, sending beams of light that reflect of the snow. The brilliance of sparkling white against the black of stone and soil is beautiful. But also dangerous. Such clear mornings often bring with them mists. And mists can be quite dangerous in a world full of sharp drops and unstable rocks.

One neanderthal is out this cold morning, searching the sparse but nonetheless fertile ground for berries. Food he hopes to bring home to his sick daughter. It's tough going trying to find food for both himself and his child, and since she's still too weak to move he has had to move further and further afield, searching through ever more dangerous crags for food others found too dangerous to harvest. That is why he enters the mist. He can barely see the ground before him. More than once he notices a sharp drop to the rocks below only after almost stepping over the edge. But the haul is worthwhile. His basket is almost full when through the mist he spots a peculiar shape before him. Their form is shimmering, only really visible as a silhouette through the mist. But they're very clearly People nonetheless. "Hey!" He growls out, taking steps towards the shape. "Get outta here. These berries are." As his foot steps down next to the silhouette he suddenly finds that there's nothing there. Crying out in surprise he stumbles forward, downwards. The rocks below approach too quickly.

And then his falls slows. He feels something wrap about his arms, and when he looks up he sees... something. It looks like a person, but their body is made entirely out of water. One arm of it has frozen into ice which is wrapped about his waist. The other clutches hard onto the wall of the mountain, gouging the earth to slow their descent towards the rocks. "Close call. You should be more careful." The voice is a sweet song. For some reason he thinks of raindrops falling on stones when he hears it.

"Oh gods. Oh my gods. What happened. Who."

"Shh." Petr finishes sliding down the cliff wall until they're both safe on the ground. He releases his grip on the neanderthal and nods towards him. "Your name is Bear yes?"

"Yes. How'd."

"I've been watching you closely. Well, your daughter specifically. She has great potential, but that won't help if she can't survive. And though you do a good job taking care of her, food alone won't save her life."

"What?!" Bear blinks, mouth gaping as he clutches his head. "No. She's strong. She'll be fine. Who are you to say this?! What kind of arrogant."

"Shh." Bear finds that his voice dies in his throat. He tries to speak, but the only thing that comes out is a hoarse whisper. "Hrm... let's see... ah. Here's one." The water spirit kneels by a nearby stream. Those icy hands brush through the water before pulling up a beautiful icy bloom with thick petals and a peculiar, slightly acridic smell. "Your daughter has a mark that looks like a cloud on her back yes? You can speak again now."

"I... yes. Yes she does. Did. It's grown larger lately though. And the colour is..."

"The colour of sickness yes." The spirit looks at the flower, then back at Bear. "I will tell you how to save your daughter. In return, you must do some things for me."

"If it saves her life, I'll do anything great spirit!"

"Good. Follow my commands and your lineage will be long and hearty, and your family will be rewarded in time. Find this flower, tear of the petals, and rub the nectar dripping from the petals onto the discoloured skin. It will be painful. Your daughter will shudder, withdraw from the nectar because it will feel like burns upon her flesh. This is proof that it works. In return, as she grows older, you must teach her the rules of the mist, and guide her potential so that she may grow strong in the magical arts."

"What? Why?! And, you say it will hurt her? How do I know that you're not an evil spirit seeking to bring misery to me and my child?"

"You do not. But... I will not force your compliance." The spirit looks upon Bear with eyes of purest ice within a head of flowing water. "But know this. Your child has the potential to become one of the finest mages of this age. Help her to grow, and in time she will guide your lineage to a promised land where fruits are many. She will know the paths in her dreams. Now. Awaken."

The figure snaps their fingers beside Bear's ear and with a start he sits up in his cave. The morning mists wrap thick across the cavern floor, covering almost everything. The one exception is the hides upon which his child sleeps, bundled up in warmth against his body. Around her form are no mists at all.

Influence a large group of mortals! AP4/DC2

Petr travels around the world, seeking people with the greatest potential for utilizing magic, with especial emphasis on Water magic. They will instruct these mages to hone their skills, and to hone the skills of their descendants, as they eventually make their way towards Sanctuary Island. The pilgrim leaders will receive visions in their dreams on how to reach the current docking slot of Sanctuary Island, and of the family line blessed with the sacred task of allowing the worthy to enter the island. All the potential pilgrims will receive only one third of the knowledge needed to forge the key that allows access onto the island proper.

+2 from Water domain.

[Garjel_blah]

Chern, 17/25 AP, Starry Crypt with Ymon-Thal

Chern lurked for some time in the Starry Crypt, watching the five masked pygmies grow colder and more rigid as the hours and days passed. Luminous spots began to appear on their exposed skin, glowloam spores setting in. Soon the bugs of the undergrowth would begin to feast, and so death would begin to birth new life. The masks, however, would remain.

Chern thought back to the one who had caused these mortals to perish, and in so doing had fed a thousand smaller creatures. He decided that the twin gods of life and death would appreciate the scene.

"Ymon, Thal,” he called into the silence of the crypt, "come. Come, and look upon the rancid fruits of your labour.”

After Thal's speech to the mortals – what effect it'd had, if any, was hard to tell – Ymon-Thal had been flying around aimlessly. High above the world the Twin God had still sensed the chaos of life and death following each other without order or meaning, souls rushing back and forth without greater purpose or proper plan.
He still had no sollution in sight when he felt the welcome distraction of Chern's call and quickly followed it to it's source.

"Ooh, this is a new place! Sparkly!” Ymon exclaimed as he repeatedly spun around in place, watching the new sights of the Starry Crypt.

Thal looked at the dead pygmies. "Rancid fruit, indeed. What do you want, Chern?”

Chern gestured around the cavern, his movements lethargic approaching disinterested.

"I made this Starry Crypt as a place of death, and the rebirth that comes with death. To accommodate those that I helped you kill. It seems not only fitting, but necessary that you help me bury them.”

"I see.” Thal said, following Chern with his eyes. "I am not usually very interested in what happens to the flesh left behind. I suppose it could be a... learning experience.”

There was some truth to that. Ymon-Thal prefered to stay above the world, literally and metaphorically. For someone who always saw things through two sets of eyes his perspective was rather narrow, he suspected.

"Yes! That sounds fun. Do we get masks? Can I have his mask?” Ymon asked, pointing to one of the masked corpses. "Oh, oh no, they are for the dead ones, aren't they?”

"What do you suggest?” Thal asked Chern.

"I need only your blessing," said Chern. "So that the dead may rest easy. Though...”

Chern reached up to the ceiling and plucked out a glowloam star from the earth. He handed it to Thal. Then, he took off his own pale wooden mask, and handed it to Ymon.

"Should you wish it, you may spread the Starry Crypt to your own people.”

Thal looked at the curious, glowing creature in his hand. "The dead never rest, easy or otherwise. This...” He gestured towards the masked corpses. "...is meat left behind as their souls rush towards the next life.”

Ymon, completely distracted by examining the mask Chern had given him, looked up at the mention of life. "Yes, yes. One is born already, that's a lucky one. The others are... wating, I think. Such chaos.”

"Yes” Thal continued as his other self resumed trying out the mask. "I suppose that those on such an tumultuous journey deserves our blessing, whatever it's worth.”

"Can we go now?” Ymon asked. “We have things, so many things, to do.”

Thal nodded. "Until we meet again, Chern.”

"Bye, bye!” Ymon said as the Twin God vanished from the Starry Crypt, leaving only the glowloam, dead on the ground.

Alone once more with corpses, Chern stooped to pick up the shrivelled speck of fungus. Killing that which eats the dead... The Twins intrigued Chern. Though he couldn't help but feel that rejecting his humble offer had been meant as a slight.

"Indeed. Until next time, Ymon and Thal.” He looked up at the stars, the real ones visible through the entrance to the Crypt. The stars that had aligned and given him material form were seconds of degrees from drifting apart.
"Though next time may not be for quite some time.”

+2 Life, + 2 Death to help sanctifying the Starry Crypt
Ymon-Thal add some of his power to help guide the souls of those buried in the crypt to find their way to their next lives.

[AlexanderML]

https://www.wallpaperbetter.com/wallpaper/49/315/644/grey-field-1080P-wallpaper-middle-size.jpg Urik the Blister on the Grey Plains

The northern land not too far from the stonethroe mountains are grey plains made up of rolling land that is smothered with chilling winds most of the year, and soil so poor that most of the land can only support a certain grey grass that gives the region it's name.

Small tribes of neanderthals had made their home here, hunting what creatures live upon the plains. Their shamans were sorcerers of some skill, channeling the chill of winter itself to aid their tribe. These people have always been both a thorn on the pride of the Sugradi giants and also a place where they found little potential to grow. While Tradano tribes occasionally make their way to the plains to raid the natives, the natives nearly always prevailed due to the vast land concealing where they were and shamanic power turning the giants flesh to ice.

That did not mean that no one wanted these lands, indeed the clan of the puny Cavpo seemed to take an interest in the northern land due to it being one of the few places surrounding the holy mountains that none of the other clans held much interest in.


Urki was a chief of a Cavpo tribe that held a strange reputation. He was scared with huge unrelenting blisters across his body, known for being cruel for even a Cavpo; yet was also one of the few Cavpo to specialize in a form of magic (the power of water) as well as survive experimenting with the forbidden power of Fire. His title was the Blister. His red form was the one that lead the tribe of Icanda to the north to take the land as his own.

Almost as a blessing from Yir, when Urki came to the north he discovered many of the high-ranking shamans had left, and that he actually had magical superiority (a great relief). He gave his people's vengeance to the people of the north by igniting their fields to root them out and then freezing their blood. Urki suffered losses, many lesser shamans of the northerners still remained, and the vast land more than once gave his opponents a way to escape.

In the end, he claimed the grey plains as his tribes land, going so far to say he founded a new Clan named after his tribe (the Icanda). This reduced the Ulister some and Cavpo greatly, as many went north to learn from Urki the Blister.

The Icanda is a small clan that lives north of the stonethroe mountians among the grey plains. They are larger than their Cavpo forfathers and more powerful magically, yet have lost the talent for crafting the Cavpo have and are specialized almost exclusively in water magic (with the masters sometimes trying to learn Fire magic, it's considered a success if the master is still alive).

[flyinglemur]

Dulnori would continue his wanderings. He traveled far and wide, observing his new nation, until one day he came across the edge of the Harken Steppe. He looked on, with wary eyes, at the terrible wilderness. It was a strange place, filled with creatures terrible and foreign to him and his people. But it also represented potential, it was out there where glory was to be won after all. Who knows what strange treasures might lie there? Dulnori thought it was a fitting place, for a new idea he developed in his travels, and it was far enough from the center of the steppe that the dragon surely wouldn’t mind. He wanted to celebrate the Horizon tribe and their many achievements, and so he got to work.

Dulnori transformed into the great whirlwind and began to spin. The earth, grass, and stone was torn apart by the raging sand and held aloft in the air, where Dulnori used his might to crush them into huge blocks. These blocks fell from the sky with great force, causing the ground itself to shake and shudder. Soon enough, the work was done, and the Eternal Arena was formed, right on the border of the Harken Steppe. It’s here that the hopes, dreams, and ambitions of men are tested, and the Horizon tribe is forever reminded of what it is.

This is the site of the Miracle Games. Every two-years, on the autumnal equinox, the Horizon tribe travel to the Eternal Arena to participate in this event of absolute importance. It’s the single greatest celebration of steppe culture known, hosted by none other then Dulnori himself. For five-days, although extensions are not uncommon, the people participate in a multitude of events in honor of their achievement. It typically begins with contests of drama, as elders and orators compete to recite the greatest tales of steppe heroism taken from the vast oral tradition of the Horizon tribe. Then the races, both on foot and horseback, always a crowd favorite, with many of the fastest racers becoming famous across the nation. Hunters compete in the javelin events, with records for both distance and power being regularly broken. Dulnori runs lotteries and wheel spinnings, with the luckiest audience members coming home with jewels and fine bronze goods. Countless other sports are played and the number increases often, with almost everyone getting a shot at glory and fame. Dulnori caters of course, and his cooking isn’t shabby to say the least. Joy and excitement abound, with the intensity of the games increasing as they progress, culminating in the most grandiose and important event of them all, The Hunt. Dulnori himself steps into the arena, taking the form of the mighty rhinoceros. The greatest hunters in the entire Horizon tribe must battle him, in memory of the day when the god first gave man bronze. This is not a rigged contest however, and victory is never guaranteed. Dulnori always fights savagely and without any hesitation, and the Horizon tribe must bring the absolute limit of their skill and power to bear in order defeat him. It is not a repetitive contest either, Dulnori fights intelligently, changing his tactics in response to past and present techniques, and forcing the warriors to do the same. There are times when Dulnori wins, every man thrown against him crushed and gored. Dulnori doesn’t kill them of course, that would be cruel, and all who spectate and participate in these games are guaranteed to leave with their flesh healed and their minds rejuvenated. However, a loss in The Hunt is a sure sign that the Horizon tribe must improve itself, and all are sure to take that lesson to heart. Luckily those times are few and far between, the people are mighty and courageous, and more than capable of preparing themselves. The Miracle Games allow for everyone to realize their own potential and power.

4 AP/2 DC: I’ll use my action to create a large building, that is the Eternal Arena, and its games. +2 ambition, the Miracle Games are a place to earn glory and become greater.

[Garjel_blah]

Chapter 1, Turn 3 rolls

Avestra (1 AP) - mercilessly slaughter a single mortal (1 AP/0 DC)
[roll0]

Alatadriel (9 AP) - erect the Twin Furnaces (4 AP/2 DC) +2 fire/+2 foxes
[roll1]

Grawissen (3 AP) - inspire Morgana to create the Grawissen Calendar (1 AP/0 DC)
Yir, +2 Sun
[roll2]

Ymon-Thal (7 AP) - convert a village of mortals (6 AP/3 DC) +2 Life/+2 Death
[roll3]

Yir (1 AP) - teach Rigeros how to build forts (1 AP/0 DC)
[roll4]

Timorin (9 AP) - bloom the Roulette Lily (8 AP/4 DC) +2 Drama
[roll5]

Chern (16 AP) - sanctify the Starry Crypt (14 AP/10 DC) +4 decay
Opulon, +2 Divination/+2 Cosmology, Crypt dreams
Ymon-Thal, +2 Life/+2 Death, smooth afterlife
[roll6]

Petr(5 AP) - summon a large group of mortals to sanctuary (4 AP/2 DC) +2 Water
[roll7]

Dulnori (11 AP) - construct the Eternal Arena (4 AP/2 DC) +2 Ambition
[roll8]

Opulon (15 AP) - no action

Su'ule (1 AP) - no action

Nestellbam (9 AP) - no action

Vreyalas (9 AP) - no action

Kahar-Djin (5 AP) - no action

Enheduanna (21 AP) - no action

Anyone who didn't make an action has until tomorrow to make do so, and I will resolve it

[Garjel_blah]

Chapter 1, Turn 3 resolution

Avestra (0 AP) - success
The Al-Sinai tribe was shocked at the sudden and brutal death of Khan Ormotag. They burned whatever of his corpse they could scoop together, though the black feather that was found with him was fearfully exempt from the pyre, for it seemed an ill omen.

Alatadriel (5 AP) - success
Alatadriel's Twin Furnace forge towered over the assembled orcs. What they would do with or make of this pantheon of industry was up to them.

Grawissen (2 AP) - success
Morgana completed her father's calendar, recording this valuable knowledge in the primitive, almost pictographic script of her people. It was written thus:

holiday(multiple days)=solstices and equinoxes, holidays happening four times a year celebrating the solstices and equinoxes, along with Kahar-Djin

January=Yirmid, named after him Yir.
holiday= New Year’s, 1rst. The holiday celebrating Yir to mark the new year. The people watch as the sun rises to praise the new year that Yir has given them.

February= Opuloner named after Opulon.
holiday= heaven Festival 20th, a festival honoring Opulon. Every home lights a lantern to get a blessing from the goddess.

March= Avest named after Avestra.
The flight of the birds 19. A celebration of nature by watching the migration of the birds in the sky and worship of Avestra

April= Timorly, named after Timorin.
Fools day 1st= the day of pranks and tricks to honor Timorin

May= Ymhl named after Ymon-Thal.
holiday= the Memorial of life-and-death 15. A day to celebrate life and respecting the dead and honor of Ymon-Thal

June=Alatalin named after Alatadriel
holiday= Day of the Fox 11. A day to appreciate the chosen beings of the goddess Alatadriel by leaving them treats.

July= Vrey named after Vreyalas
holiday= forging day 29, a day of competition between those of the Forge, to show mortal craftsmanship to the God Vreyalas

August= Pely named after Petr
holiday= the day of the sea 7, a day of party at sea, lakes and rivers to show how much we appreciate Petr for water.

September= Nestel named after Nestellbam
holiday= Golden knowledge day 15, a celebration of the Prehist chieftains Morgana’s victory over the sun God Yir with the help of Grawissen. Knowledge is passed around and studied to honor Grawissen.

holiday= the day of preparation 23, an act to show Nestellbam that we are prepared for anything as we get ready for fall and winter.

October=Cherntor named after Chern
holiday= day of fear 31, all fear this day as they say Chern is strongest year on this day. We celebrate the decay to appease him.

November= Su named after Su'ule
holiday= day of sorcery 25, a day to appreciate and celebrate the magic that the goddesses gave us.

December= Dul named after Dulnori
holiday= charity day 25, to spread the fortune to those less fortunate so all may appreciate Dulnori glory.



Ymon-Thal (1 AP) - success
The mortals (I'm going to say humans since I don't believe it was specified) of Boa Jungle prostrated themselves before Ymon-Thal, in awe of their power and wisdom. They would spread their word, and their villages would become a hub of their power.

Yir (0 AP) - success
The Sugradi giant Rigeros of Tumera hearkened to the voice of mighty Yir. The already power hungry war lord would now be able to conquer more effectively the surrounding lands, using forts much stronger than anything else known at the time. His knowledge of construction was far ahead of anyone else's at the time, and he gave this knowledge willingly to his kin.

Timorin (1 AP) - success
The marsh neanderthals paused in their beating of the thief, curious about a strange new plant growing among the waterlilies. They decided to feed the lily to the thief, to test it. The thief, upon nervously consuming the plant, said he felt better than ever. In fact he felt so good that he started beating everyone else, and then he really did steal all their stuff. The Roulette Lily would soon catch on as a ritualistic means of testing one's fate.

Chern (2 AP) - success
The Starry Crypt, dug by Chern as a resting place for the dead, twinkled somewhat brighter than before. Now no mortal who entered the place, living or dead, could deny its sanctity.

Petr(1 AP) - success
Sigrid's family would in time meet many people who had also been visited by some facet of Petr. Fahraad, Bear, and many others came in search of the island sanctuary. She granted them entry, careful to obey the ritual of the three gates. The island prospered more with every initiate.

Dulnori (7 AP) - success
Just beyond the Harken Steppe, in the terrible wilderness, a chaotic storm raged and from its tumbling force, the Eternal Arena came to be. This awe inspiring colosseum would prove the perfect place for games and sport, when the Horizon tribe found it. They would call them, the Miracle Games.

Opulon (15 AP) - no action

Su'ule (1 AP) - no action

Nestellbam (9 AP) - no action

Vreyalas (9 AP) - no action

Kahar-Djin (5 AP) - no action

Enheduanna (21 AP) - no action

[Megadraco]

Kahar-Djin, 5 AP, Ebonbark Bay

Action:

Influence a large group of mortals, 4 AP/2 DC Kahar-Djin appears in the dreams of around a hundred members of the village of Día, granting them the gift to form Paths with other people's minds, granting them the ability to understand any language that a nearby person speaks. This gift will be passed down to their descendants. In the same dream, they command them to set out to explore, finding new places and forming paths between the many settlements and civilizations of the world.

+2 Paths: The gift granted, the command to form paths.

[Artemis P]

A loud whirl came bounding across the rocky ground. It was loud, and long, and it echoed for miles; there was sparsely little to interrupt the sound waves call, and the voice who had given life to the sound knew it would carry, even counted on it.

The echoing reply came a few minutes later, slightly shriller and much less audible than the one given before it- in this time, three figures had already made way down the length of the hill, and had begun ascent of the next. For this was the landscape of the plains- occassional hills followed by vast plateaus, with little but a few shrubs and brushes to break the monotomy. During the warmer season, the long grass grew to a knee-high length, and could be used to make food- the locals called it wheat- but for now, in the colder season, they relied upon the meat of the great, shaggy beasts that roamed the plains. On the backs of one of the figures lay rope, which was tied to a long, bone-made board. This board dragged on the ground behind the figure, for he ran as he drug it behind him. And on this board lay the meat of the large, shaggy creature; it was for this reason the figure had left, for he was a hunter- the best hunter in his clan.

When he heard the sound, the hunter whistled long and low to the other figures- they came to him quickly, and frantically, in the manner that dogs always do. He steered them in the direction of the sound; within ten minutes, the figures were loping back into camp.

The hunter was greeted by a woman, arms held low and to her side, but with a warm and inviting smile that showed familiarity, but not the intimacy of husband and wife. The woman's name was Arikara, and she bowed low as she spoke. "Good spirits be with you, Murumasa," came the words, sweet like honey.

And the reply, "And they with you, Arikara. How fares the people?" He gestured to the small band of hunters gathered behind, about 15 or 20.

"The people fare poorly, for Ad Kin Elkhoof forces us again to surrender our beasts to his tribe, and join our shares to his. But, now with your arrival, they will have full bellies and glad hearts. You will share with us your bounty?"

The hunter looks to the load on his shoulder. "Yes, I will," he states, "tough give to me a small portion for my dogs." The hounds in question, are, at the moment, investigating a rogue beetle that tends the ground, and they nip and bark at each other in their play over the beetle. Murumasa gives a whistle, and with speed, they stop and come to him, and few quiet words more have them lying down.

Arikara smiles at him. "You have such a way with them," she says to the hunter. "No one else in the clan has such luck with the dogs. Tell me your secret," she says and smiles again, laying herself down beside him as he plays.

"There is no secret, Ari," the hunter smiles, shortening her name from the formal to the informal, "I've just always known what they were thinking. Like they were part of my clan. Like they were you or I." He ruffles one of the dogs ears, and they roll over, happily wagging their tail.

"What an extraordinary talent," comes the reply. "Would that I could speak to dogs, like you. Or to fly like a bird, or race across the plains like the bison," she whispered, then danced away. "But that is for daydreamers, and idle hands kill the clan. I shall see you later, Murumasa?"

The hunter smiled. "Of course. Good day, Arikara."
---------------------------------------------------------------------

In the largest of the tents, Gravirr, father of Arikara, once again prayed to the spirits. “Spirits,” he pleads, “honored of my ancestors. Show me the way. All of the other tribes have joined Elkhoof’s clan, all of the others submitted to his ways. The buffalo dry up, raids strike at all who oppose the Horizon, war, famine- how can I lead my people to this? If I do, they will lead lives as slaves. If I do not, they will die. Help me, spirits, give me a sign.

At once, the smoke begins to unfurl- it slowly grows thicker, and darker, and swathes of color changing into a sandstorm, and a dragon Gravirr sighs, and slowly releases some smoke out of the tent.

“Thank you, my ancestors. I understand. My people will survive, and they will thrive, even if it means my death.”
He bows low. And as he does, releasing more and more of the smoke, he fails to see the pulsing puff of smoke that refuses to go away…..,

------------------------------------------------------------------
Two dogs began barking, yelping, moments before a great rumbling came from the ground. Murumasa, forewarned, yet not believing, ran off in the direction of Arikara. And as he did, a giant lizard came flying out of the ground, making tunnels in the ground, and rose up, monstrous and dangerous, pure white and instantly dangerous.

Murumasa is the only brave to react before the beast throws himself at the ground, flattening all weapons in the tribe’s armory. Murumasa however, wasn’t going for weapons. His focus was on the one walking next to the pile, and as the lizard dived down, so to did Murumasa. He missed. He screamed.

One mutt, a beast of old, had known Murumasa for a long time. She had been the runt of the litter, cast out of her pack because of her size. The human who also spoke dog knew her, fed her, nursed her back to health, and for that, she returned his favor with the utmost loyalty no man had ever known. Anything that the man needed, she gave. In this moment, that was her life.

The woman who the man adored was in the way of the beast as it came crashing down. She, having sensed the magical, mystical, divine disturbance, did what she knew the man wanted. Normally, she pointed out to him where the beasts of the plains were, and where the poisonous roots where, and which one were safe to eat, places to find shelter and water. Now, she protected his mate.

The dog pounced on Arikara as the dragon slammed down. Pushed out of the way, the mutt breathed deep her last breath as she knew the woman was safe, before the was crushed.
------------------------------------------------------------
The dragon is the smoke spoke as Gravirr knelt in prayer. “Your ancestors prayed to me too that they would be spared, and I granted the great strength in their bones. Now, I offer you a different path.”

The dragon spoke about change, change coming. The change was good, it said, and would lead to great prosperity for all involved. This was called the Horizon tribe, beloved of two gods, and they would roam not just the Steppe, but the world, performing great deeds all over.

Gravirr was encouraged about the Horizon tribe, and spoke earnestly about his hope for a great future. But the same question that caused him to call the spirits, now caused distress again. “But, great spirit,” he said “they are not us. How can we teach our children to hunt, and tend hide, if they are different?”

And the dragon answered him. “You, of all others, have resisted the tribe, despite its benefit. You, of all others, understand the dangers change brings. I will not give you my blessing, but I will bless you in other ways. However, as I give to you, I will also take something of much value to you..”
------------------------------------------------------------
After the crash, Murumasa found Arikara, alive and untouched. He crawled to her. “I am ok,” she said, crying. “I am ok.” He held her as she cried, as the dragon made its offer.

“The time of change is here. But, I am the God of Preservation, and in your faith, I will preserve you, and your ways. I have made a pact with another- all who dwell on the Steppe will join with the Horizon. But, there is another way.

I am constructing tunnels below the surface. From there, all that is, and will be, will be preserved.

I require caretakers. I ask that it be you, and in return, you shall be the first preserved.

Drive some buffalo into the tunnels- I will ensure that they do, and survive. You will live, under the tunnels, and propser exactly as you do now, until such time as other tasks are given of you. You shall be known as Aeons, for you shall surpass time itself. This is my promise.”

There was a great milling about, and each elder, brave, woman, and child, all made the choice. Of the ones there, only 10 braves, and their women and children, refused the dragons offer. The others accepted the offer. Arikara, who would have been sacrificed to the creation of the Aeons, was not allowed, nor was Murumasa.

“You, boy, have been touched by something, something not even I can control. They call it sorcery, and it is what has saved this life. However- because you have been touched, and have interfered with my plans, you shall not be allowed into my kingdom, you nor none of your kind.”

“However- I send you to another, another who shall have use of your skills. Hone your talent with the beasts. It is a unique gift, and one that proper training, will unlock great prosperity for you and your kind.”

And that, my boy, is the story of how the Aeons came to be.

Influence approximately 100 mortals, +4 Preservation of the society before the Horizon tribe. The Aeons shall live below the surface, and act as caretakers of the tunnels Nestellbam has been creating for his next big project.

Sorry if this was a bit rough, I procrastinated greatly over my holiday. I'll clean it up a bit tommorrow.

[Garjel_blah]

Chapter 1, Turn 3 additional rolls

Kahar-Djin (5 AP) - appear in 100 mortals' dreams (4 AP/2 DC) +2 Paths
[roll0]

Nestellbam (9 AP) - create the Aeons tribe from 100 mortals (4 AP/2 DC) +4 Preservation
[roll1]


Chapter 1, Turn 3 additional resolution (I know they're going to succeed anyway so I'll just put this in the same post)

Kahar-Djin (5 AP) - success
The next morning, many inhabitants of the village Dia awoke feeling enlightened. Many of them left that same day, saying that Kahar-Djin was calling them to explore.

Nestellbam (9 AP) - success
The struggling tribe took up the title of Aeons, and descended into what natural caves they could find. They eagerly awaited the day that the great Dragon would return to expand their subterranean domain.

[Garjel_blah]

With these final acts of divinity complete, the planets fell out of alignment, and the avatars of the gods waned. It would be hundreds of years before they were to return...

In the meantime, the mortals made do. Using the gifts of their gods they were able to advance and grow, faster and stronger than ever.

Chapter Two: Go forth and prosper...
Bronze Age

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mMVmW0k9jZI

The world had changed a great deal by the time the stars next aligned, seven hundred years by the Grawissen Calendar. It was one of the Boa pygmies, a devout follower of the Owl and the Vulture, and a skilled Su Sorcerer in the school of astrology, who first noticed it. The Starfolk tribe rejoiced. However, they were just one of many factions eagerly awaiting the return of the gods...

The Starfolk: the Boa Jungle pygmies, primarily worshippers of Opulon, but with Chern taking the role of her equal and opposite in their dualistic mythology. Their domain covers most of the Boa Jungle's depths, from the tree tops to the expansive subterranean crypt tunnels. They live a life of basic jungle agriculture, with some advanced technology due to the metals uncovered in their tunnelling. They have the most adept Su astrologers of all mortals apart from the inhabitants of Sanctuary and the Gnaw Wastes, but necromancy is forbidden among them, as the dead belong to the Starry Crypt. Their main rivals are the Yith, due to their opposing dualistic religion, differing race, and their sacrilegious practice of necromancy. They have very little contact with the Missionaries due to the inaccessibility of their deep jungle home, and consider them an unknown element.

The Yith: the Boa Jungle humans, worshippers of Ymon-Thal. Their domain covers most of the less dense forest around Boa Jungle, where they sustain themselves with basic agriculture with little in the way of advanced technology. They have the most adept Su necromancers of all mortals apart from the inhabitants of Sanctuary and the Gnaw Wastes. Their main rivals are the Starfolk, due to their opposing dualistic religion, differing race, and their greater abundance of resources. They have a decent amount of contact with the Missionaries, and consider them neutral trade partners, for now.

The Path Missionaries: a relatively new faction in the jungle, these human missionaries came from the far off lands of the Ebon Basin to spread the word of Kahar-Djin. They're nomadic, with almost no permanent agriculture, but decent technology that they've gathered in their wanderings. Their use of Su Sorcery is heavily regulated, such that no one may attempt to master all schools to become a free-form sorcerer. They have a neutral relationship with the Yith, who allow them to pass through their lands and trade with them, and know very little of the Starfolk beyond the fact that they exist.

The Al-Sinai: the Ebonbark Bay humans, worshippers of Alatadriel, along with a Kahar-Djin minority. Their domain covers most of Ebonbark Bay and the downstream River Ebon. They maintain very prosperous agriculture, and have attained a high level of technological advancement due to their access to the Twin Furnaces and multiple metal rich factions. Have few Su Sorcerers due to their goddess's misgivings towards magic. They have three main neighbours; the Orcs, the Prehist, and the Crow People. They have an turbulent relationship with the Orcs, helped by sharing a common religion, but hindered by drastic cultural differences, not to mention the pressure of having to share a resource as strategically significant as the Twin Furnaces. The Prehist were long ago subjugated by the Al-Sinai, but due to their advanced technology and resources were able to negotiate a vassal state status instead of being conquered. And lastly, the Al-Sinai have an intense, unending rivalry with the Crow People due to historical enmity, though the hostility of Sunset Forest and insular nature of its inhabitants mean that open conflict is limited to occasional border skirmishes, and attempts at conquest always fail.

The Orcs: the Orcishtal Mountain humans, worshippers of Alatadriel, Goddess of the Big Dong, along with a Kahar-Djin minority. Their domain covers the Orcishtal mountains and upstream River Ebon. Their agriculture is basic, with their livelihoods mostly coming from raiding/trading with the Al-Sinai and just raiding everyone else, but their technology is advanced due to their access to the Big Dong. They have decently powerful Su Sorcerers. Their violent nature makes them rivals to all of their neighbours, with the occasional exception of the Al-Sinai, who they share a religion with despite certain mythological discrepancies.

The Prehist: the Ebonbark Bay humans, worshippers of the whole pantheon, but primarily Alatadriel, Grawissen, and Kahar-Djin. Their domains covers a small part of Ebonbark Bay, where they build a small but highly sophisticated and beautiful city in the shadow of the Al-Sinai territories. Their agriculture and technology are both excellent, with their mines among the most advanced in the world, and their scholars among the wisest. Have very powerful Su Sorcerers due to abundant access to magicite. The Prehist, despite their success, exist as a vassal state to the Al-Sinai due to past conquests.

The Crow People: the Sunset Forest Neanderthals, worshippers of Avestra. Their domain covers the entirety of Sunset Forest, centred around Avestra's Perch, where they live in much the same way they did seven hundred years ago. Their agriculture is basic, technology limited, but their treewhisperers are the most powerful on the planet, giving them a significant advantage against invaders. They rarely make contact with people beyond their forest, but ancient feuds with the Al-Sinai occasionally result in bloody border skirmishes.

The Path Missionaries: the village that Kahar-Djin first made his appearance is, for better or worse, no more. After most of its inhabitants left to act as missionaries, the village itself quickly faded the Al-Sinai. However, their culture is far from lost, for they have seeded themselves among many other communities in the Ebon Basin and beyond.

The Cult of the Mad God: the Lucent Archipelago pygmies, worshippers of Timorin. Their domain covers most of the islands in the archipelago. They live an islander existence, mostly relying on fish and basic agriculture, and their technology is limited but for what they acquire from visiting Missionaries, as well as of course the Lucent Crown. They have decent Su Sorcery, with some of the world's best in the school of the warrior apart from the inhabitants of Sanctuary and the Gnaw Wastes. They have repeatedly encountered Path Missionaries over the centuries, and every time they crown them, kill them, steal their stuff, and drain the mana from their massacred corpses. Recently a new island has appeared on the horizon, which they do not yet know to be Sanctuary, Petr's floating island.

The Path Missionaries: travellers loyal to Kahar-Djin keep finding the Lucent Archipelago. And every time they do, the tiny little people from the Cult of the Mad God kill them. At the time of the gods' return more Missionaries are on the way, unaware of the fate of their predecessors.

Sanctuary: a small population of diverse mortals live on the floating island Petr created centuries ago, dualistic worshippers the Healing Mother and Gentle Father. They are among the most prosperous people on the planet due to the self-sustaining island ecosystem and ever-changing migratory bird populations, giving them a unique and wondrous agriculture, and the abundance of natural resources bestowed at the island's creation has enabled them to develop advanced technologies and beautiful structures for the time. Not to mention the wealth of the sea, even the deep oceans of the Sundered Sea that no other mortal has yet touched. Their entire population is adept at Su Sorcery, and they are among the most powerful on the planet in all schools, with the small exception of Crow Treewhisperers, Stonesthroe Sugradi Radiants, and the Wasteland Mutants. Though their school of water probably bests even them. This combination of natural wealth and magical ability makes Sanctuary scholars the most learned mortals on the planet. They rarely encounter outsiders, as Sanctuary is well guarded by the three gates. They have seen the island pygmies of the approaching Lucent Archipelago from their observatories.

The Sugradi Giant Clans: humans and neanderthals, some with the recessive giant trait, worshippers of Yir. Their domain covers a vast stretch of land through most of the Tumera green lands, and through a decent part of the Stonesthroe Mountains, to the Grey Plains and the edges of the Gnaw Wastes. Their infamous fortresses are what earned them this outstandingly large territory, with their walls and temples large enough to qualify as world wonders in the primitive bronze age. Their agriculture and technology is advanced, driven to excel by the civilisation's lust for conquest, but not as much as their great forts. They have decent Su Sorcerers, but their school of radiance sorcerers are known to be the best on the planet, powered by the holy peaks of Yir. The Sugradi have ongoing conflicts on multiple fronts led by the Tradano clan, most notably with the ancient city of Theshana, a war that has been continuing on and off for centuries. There have been minor encounters with question Horizon tribesmen as well, who tend to win the respect of giants with their hunting and combat aptitude. Lastly, the strange neanderthals that occasionally come down from the northern Wastes will sometimes wreak havoc with their bizarrely potent sorcery, leaving the clan leaders gravely concerned for what goes on in those accursed lands.
The Proud Tradano: An extremely warlike clan, they do most of the raiding and expansion work. They take the divine claim over the lands near the stonethroe mountains very seriously.

The Numerous Gragani: Average in most things, they are perhaps the largest clan. They are the clan most often seen dealing with non-giants, for they like to get themselves involved in most things.

The Caring Ulister: These are the kindest giants, not even looking down upon the humans. They are skilled in food production, cloth making, and healing. It’s a shame that they live so deep in Sugradi territory, but they prefer the water there.

The Conniving Cavpo: These small giants (only 8ft tall on average) live in caves, and are the smallest clan. They practice magic that is not that of the sun, indeed they practice all magic, because of this however they are terrible at it, only being effective in rituals. They are also skilled craftsmen, working with the metal of Stonethroe.

The Proud Sahgori: These are the largest of the giants (some standing over 11ft high), they are the wise counselors of the Sugradi. They live upon the blessed peaks of the stonethroe mountains, and help to bring Yir’s light down upon the world through magic and word. If a warband has one of them among them, it’s serious.

The Ever-Building Tulmer: These giants are among the newer additions to the clans, average in most ways they are known for being very good at building infrastructure meant to cement control over their home. Some go back to the mountains to construct rich halls or great shrines.

The Icanda: These giants live upon the grey plains, making due with what little the land can provide. Descended from the Cavpo, they have specialized their magic to that of Water, so that they may one day learn how to master Fire (those that survive using the magic are called a success). They are average in size and have lost the Cavpo’s talent for crafting.

Theshana: human townsfolk, worshippers of Vreyalas. Their domain covers only a single valley of the Stonesthroe Mountains, where their single ancient city is situated. Their early gifts from the god of community gave them good agriculture and highly advanced technology, accelerated by their expert miners and forgers to rival the great Twin Furnace smiths and Prehist miners. Their Su Sorcerers are decently powerful too, specialising in the school of enchantment to push their great works to the cutting edge. It is their technological prowess that has allowed Theshana to persist all these centuries, for the expansionist warmongering Tradano Clan of the Sugradi giants have attempted to conquer the city numerous times. They're enchanters always prove a match for the radiant sorcerers, while their long-established infrastructure holds off the advancing giant forts. However, every war concedes the small, tightly-knit community a little more to the giants' much larger empire. It is likely that only the intervention of their god can get them through another age.

The Horizon Tribe: some from the questing Horizon tribe incur into the Stonesthroe region. They have yet to start any permanent settlements, but they have found many great treasures to bring back to their native Harken Steppe.

The Wasteland Mutants: Gnaw Waste neanderthals, worshipping the monster Su'ule and her angel, Enheduanna. Their domain covers the entire wasteland, but most wastelanders live in the Maw, the enchanted cave that confers magical traits onto those born in its shadow. These magical mutants are the single most powerful Su Sorcerers on the planet, growing at the very epicentre of the great scream that irrevocably ruptured reality. Though any significant sort of agriculture or technological advancement is laughable in the wastes, this sorcery gives the mutants the ability to thrive regardless. Success has made them bolder, sending them south into the upper Stonesthroe Mountains, where they occasionally encounter giants. These encounters always end in bloodshed.

The Horizon Tribe: steppe humans, worshippers of Dulnori and Nestellbam. Their domain covers most of the Harken Steppe and surrounding wilderness, centred on the great Eternal Arena, a true world wonder. They have a shamanistic agriculture, relying more on hunting and gathering with the aid of nature sorcery as they quest out in search of fortune, while their technology is highly advanced due to their questing and early use of bronze. Horizon javelin throwers are some of the most feared warriors on the continent. This is only strengthened by their mastery of the Su school of nature, giving them command over wild beasts, though due to the lack of sorcery in the steppe it is not as widespread as it could be. They are known far and wide, even among the northern Stonesthroe civilisations, for their Miracle Games, the greatest spectacle in the early world. They only share the steppe with one other people, the Aeons, who they leave to their own devices. With the unchanging nature of the Harken Steppe, the Horizon tribe prefers to look outward rather than inward anyway.

The Aeons: steppe humans, worshippers of Nestellbam. Their domain covers a few natural caverns of the Harken Steppe, where they await the return of their god in an unchanging lifestyle. Agriculture and technology remain just as they were seven hundred years ago, relying on their prosperous bison herds to sustain them, and no Su Sorcerers exist among them due to their home's magical nullification. They maintain good relations with the neighbouring Horizon tribe, who share their worship for the Dragon, but tend to try to keep to themselves. Yet - the return of their god might mean... Change isn't exactly the right word, but the reassertion of the natural order of things.

The Marsh Dwellers: marsh neanderthals, worshippers of Timorin. Their domain spans their native marsh, and nothing more. They've progressed in an unremarkable fashion, with basic agriculture and technology, and average Su Sorcery capabilities. However, their lands are known to grow the famed Roulette Lily, providing endless entertainment and twisted justice to the population.

The Path Missionaries: this is the first time that the brave Missionaries have crossed the wide straight between landmasses. Though their vessels were only primitive, they had the immortal Bron to lead them true. Kahar-Djin preserved them, it seemed, for they found successfully reached a mysterious marshland full of strange people. People who Bron and his missionaries will surely steer to the Path, as is clearly their destiny.

https://media.discordapp.net/attachments/649875206852182016/663546496758710292/unknown.png?width=797&height=598

Undetectable actions

Free/Instant: manifest avatar, teleport avatar, shapeshift avatar, interact with the world, perform inconsequential/non-divine magic, attempt to remotely contact other gods - general fluff and flavour basically.

1 AP/0 DC: influence one mortal (significantly alter the course of their life by compelling them to action, altering their body, killing them, etc.), scry one object or living creature (allows you to detect undetectable actions that happen within your scry, lasts until your next action or the end of the age).

2 AP/1 DC: influence a small group of mortals (~10), influence a small landmark or room, scry a small landmark or room, change the weather in a village-sized area.

4 AP/2 DC: influence a large group of mortals (~100), influence a large landmark or building, scry a large landmark or building.

6 AP/3 DC: influence a village of mortals (~1000), influence a village-sized area, scry a village-sized area, change the weather in a city-sized area.

8 AP/4 DC: change the weather in a state-sized area, create a basic living species (plant, fungus, micro-organisms), create a basic non-living substance.

10 AP/6 DC: influence a town of mortals (~10k), influence a town-sized area, scry a town-sized area, create an animal species, create one or a collection of lesser magical items (easy to both use and destroy, such as a magic carpet, health potion, invisibility cloak, etc.).

12 AP/8 DC: influence a city of mortals (~100k), influence a city-sized area, scry a city-sized area, create a collection of lesser magical minions (should be a reasonable match for most mortals, such as hellhounds, cherubs, horse-mounted Nazgul, etc.), immortalise a living creature or mortal, create a pocket dimension (must be bounded and unable to hold a population), reincarnate a mortal demigod.

14 AP/10 DC: influence one immortal, scry a state-sized area, create a single greater magical monster (should be challenging for even the best mortals to slay, such as a dragon, gorgon, fell beast-mounted Witch King, etc.), create a greater magical item (requires understanding of magic to use or destroy, such as a phylactery, enchanted weapons and armour, crystal ball, etc.), sanctify an area for +2 (max 4 per god).

Detectable actions

16 AP/12 DC: influence a state of mortals (~1M) or a small group of immortals (~10), influence a state-sized area, scry a country-sized area, induce a celestial phenomenon (comet, eclipse, aurora, etc.), create a sentient species, create a +2 domain religious artefact (max 3 per god).

18 AP/14 DC: influence a country of mortals (~10M), influence a country-sized area, scry a continent-sized area, create a plane of reality (can be unbounded and capable of sustaining a population), create a +2 domain/-2 weakness demigod (max 2 per god).

20 AP/16 DC: influence a continent of mortals (~100M), influence a continent-sized area, scry the entire planet, create a law of reality (such as a system of magic for mortals to use, or an objective morality), create a supernaturally gifted sentient species, assign a chosen people for +2 (1 per god).

22 AP/18 DC: influence every mortal on the planet, influence the entire planet, despoil a +2 sanctified area.

24 AP/20 DC: destroy a +2 artefact, confer a -2 weakness to a demigod, banish a god for a turn, announce a prophesy.

30 AP/24 DC: destroy a demigod, confer a -2 weakness to another god.

40 AP/30 DC: destroy a god.



Player
Deity
Domains/Weaknesses


Garjel_blah
Chern
+4 Decay, +1 Fermentation, +2 Starry Crypt, -2 Downtrodden


Godzillarich
Grawissen
+2 Mining, +2 Knowledge, +1 Writing, +2 Grawissen's Pickaxe of Architecture, -2 Unknown


Megadraco
Kahar-Djin
+2 Paths, +2 Thresholds, +1 Travellers, -2 Unexplored


Demonjazz
Alatadriel
+2 Fire, +2 Foxes, +1 Bees, -2 Arrogance


The Jojo
Avestra
+2 Nature, +2 Birds, +2 Avestra's Perch, -2 Primeval


Batcathat
Ymon-Thal
+2 Life, +2 Death, +1 Balance, -2 Unliving


El-the Ellie
Vreyalas
+2 Community, +2 Forging, -2 Darkness


Artemis P
Nestellbam
+4 Preservation, +1 Treasures, +2 Harken Steppe, -2 Creation


gac3
Timorin
+2 Drama, +2 War, +1 Games, -2 Fear


Mira_124
Opulon
+2 Cosmology, +2 Divination, -2 Focus


flyinglemur
Dulnori
+2 Fortune, +2 Ambition, -2 Stability


Maryring
Petr
+2 Water, +2 Healing, -2 Pain


DarthArminius
Su'ule
+2 Sorcery, +2 Monsters, +1 Birth, -2 Willfulness


AlexanderML
Yir
+2 Sun, +2 Majesty, +1 Perfection, +2 Stonesthroe Mountain Peaks, -2 Arrogance



All gods may now choose an additional +1 domain, which I will add to the above pantheon list.

You may now begin posting your actions for turn 1 of chapter 2. Everyone now has 50 AP. The age will last, once again, at least three ages, or until someone depletes their AP. Enjoy!

[Garjel_blah]

Chern, 50/50 AP, Starry Crypt

The crypt was, as crypts usually are, quiet. Particularly at this depth, a good four or five storeys below the cacophonous jungle surface, the air was still and heavy enough to trip over. It had been this way for decades now, especially since the Starfolk started interning their dead in different branch of the expansive crypt. The dead already placed here, so far along their path of decay that they seemed to have melded with the luminous earthen walls, rested peacefully. The eye holes of their masks twinkled with clustered spore.

Then one of the masks blinked. And began to push off from the wall.

Chern emerged from the dirt like a golem of clotted mud, drooping and dripping under his own weight. He collapsed to his knees, the resting dead watching him with interest.

"Bleeeeuurghaaaachuuuurechugh- puh, flegh, urk!" Chern burbled and spat. His body shivered and shook like a dog, flinging aside seven hundred years worth of muck that covered his pallid skin.

"Ugh... Ugh... Puh," he said, rising slowly, naked as the day he was born, which is to say that he was still wearing his rags, "there is nothing more mortal than a good wretch. Is that not so?"

The dead did not respond.

"Hmm, indeed. What would I know?"

He set off up a sloped incline.

"I need a walk. I hope that this tunnel leads to the way out?"

The dead did not respond.

"Hm. Yes. What would you know?"

Chern left. Once more the dead were silent. Though perhaps now their silence was somewhat bemused.

[Batcathat]

Ymon-Thal, 50/50 AP, Boa Jungle

Floating high above the Boa Jungle Ymon-Thal watched the world below. Had he left it just a minute or millennia ago? It all seemed so blurry. A mortal might have compared the centuries that had passed to a dream but the Twin God had never slept.

Ymon-Thal barely recognized the area below them as where they had landed to spread the word of themselves and they sensed the crypt Chern had invited them to was not too far away. Large patches of jungles had been replaced by fields, clearly made by mortals and the crude huts, seemingly tossed out at random in the jungle, had transformed into proper buildings.

“Ooh, look!” Ymon pointed, shifting to point at something else before the words had left his mouth. “There! And there! Ooh, and what about there?”

“Yes. They certainly have been busy.”

The world had changed much and not at all. Ymon-Thal could still sense the chaos of mortals souls dying and being born anew without any order to it. Souls flying about like an anarchic beehive, incorporeal bodies colliding and competing for incarnation like sperms for an egg.

“It makes my head hurt”, Ymon complained, rubbing his forehead.

“You don't actually have a head. Or the ability to feel pain”, Thal replied. “But yes, it is... disturbing.”

The plan had started to form almost as soon as Ymon-Thal had first appeared and now it was clear as day in their mind. There needed to be a place to house the souls and to make order from the chaos of life and death.

“Ooh, is it time?” Ymon suddenly stopped, the mortal world below instantly forgotten. “Is it? Is it? Is it?”

“Yes”, Thal said and grasped his other self's hand. “Let there be order.”

Ymon-Thal gathered as much power as he could within himselves. More than he had ever used before, more than he had thought possible. It was like trying to fill a lake with the ocean and the Twin God felt his hold slipping.

Rather than trying to hold on, Ymon-Thal merely directed it towards a patch of non-reality not too far from the world. The ocean of power followed the riverbed Ymon-Thal had made for it and exploded into the emptiness of the new reality.

“That was... that was...” The exhausted Ymon found no words to finish.

Thal could barely think himself but gathered enough strength to speak. “It's not over. It might not even work.”

“We can get help. From the others.”


Create a plane of reality (18 AP/14 DC)
Ymon-Thal is attempting to create an afterlife (and beforelife, since everyone's reincarnating) named The Passing (described below) in order to bring order and balance (+1) to life (+2) and death (+2).
As implied by the end of the post Ymon-Thal is about to contact other gods asking for help, I'll post about that later but since it's a detectable action everyone's free to react before that if you want to.



This is what Ymon-Thal is trying to create, I'll change it accordingly to any reactions or DM-rulings. Assuming the action even succeeds...
https://i.postimg.cc/T185YBvr/thepassing.jpg

The Passing

The Passing is the realm before life and after death, where the souls of those mortals not currently alive gather and where new souls are born before incarnating in their first life.

At a glance, the Passing may not seem that different from the mortal world but that impression is likely fleeting. The very landscape is shaped and changed by the souls within it and as such it is always changing and rarely logical. Someone can stand in a snowstorm, only to take a single step and cross into a scorching desert and then leave it for peaceful meadow with the next.

A soul within the Passing is aware of all its previous lives but rarely concerned about them, almost all emotional attachment to the memories are severed by death. Most spend their time in the Passing, be it minutes or years, simply drifting from one experience to the next, letting their wants and needs shape the world around them. Some of those who've died a particularly traumatizing death get stuck reliving it over and over in the Passing until they've either found a way to move on or at least forget about it.

There are no judgments in the Passing, at least no other than the souls within pass on themselves. A soul who's lived a righteous life — or several of them — might torture itself for some mistake or character flaw while a selfish, greedy soul might have the blessed existence it thinks it deserves.

[AlexanderML]

Yir 50/50 AP - High Above - Restless Dative:

The sun had slept, in and out of an almost dream. When Yir's thoughts grew at times to almost wakefulness, it mumbled in it's sleep. Though only the luckiest of star-gazers or solar priests would notice, taking note that these became less and less frequent for centuries, until around 200 years before the new Age. "It's too dark, why is everything dark?"

One day while overlooking the Stonethroe mountains, Yir awoke fully once more. There was no fan-fair, as no one predicted Yir's full return, or is it that they did not notice it leave? More praised IT'S glorious name than ever before, and the land was filled with more pure-forms as well. Yet it felt as if it's presence was still needed dearly. "Do they remember me?"

The lands of the pure where surrounded by barbaric insanity, the godlings of the world still moved about in their cryptic and malicious ways, and the pure still needed a figure worthy of leading them. "The world needs me."

It'd wait for now, the godlings down below could do a number of annoying things still.

[Batcathat]

Ymon-Thal, 50/50 AP, Boa Jungle

"Yes", Thal agreed with his other self. "The others could help us."

Ymon-Thal felt his strength already returning, at least enough to reach out to his fellow deities. He took a moment to gather his thoughts and went into action.


***

“Remember when we met in the crypt, Chern?” Thal said, pausing a moment before continuing. “You asked me for a blessing to help the dead rest easier. Maybe their bodies rest easier now but their souls still fly aimless in the void and now it is my time to ask you for help to make their journey easier.”


***

“Heya Petr! It's a been a long time. Or has it? I think so. Anyway, it's nice to see you again. You sense what we are doing, right?” Ymon gestured in a random direction, unsure of how to point towards another plane of reality. “We want to make a place for those healing can no longer help, a world to keep them until they are born back into this one. Wouldn't that be nice?”


***

“Hello, Mischief Maker.” Ymon said, waving enthusiastically. “We heard you like chaos. Wanna help make a world where everything is kinda chaotic?”
Thal held out his hand, floating above it was a miniature version of the plane they envisioned, changing by the moment and with little sparks representing mortal souls. “Not to mention a place for all the warriors to go, to rest between your wars. They deserve as much, do they not?”


***

“Kahar-Djin.” Thal said after manifesting, his other self close behind him. “Can you sense them? All the mortal souls drifting around aimless after death, before life, following no paths, respecting no thresholds.”
“Help us — help them — find their path from one life to the next.” Ymon added. “And a... whatstheword... threshold to keep living and dead in the proper worlds.”


***

"Hello Alatadriel, Fox Lady of way too many titles to remember", Ymon greeted the goddess in front of them. "We're making a place for souls to go, foxes too." He paused, clearly trying to remember something. "They have souls, right?"


***

"Great Yir", Thal said, nodding his head in a not-quite-a-bow. "As I am sure you have sensed already, we are creating a place for souls to rest between lives and have come to request your help. Surely the sun should shine over the dead as well?"


***

"Greetings Preserver." Thal said as the Twin God appeared before Nestellbam. "We ask for your help in preserving the very souls of the mortals of this world, to keep them safe between one life and the next."


The above are those who either have cooperated with Ymon-Thal before, expressed interest on Discord or, in Kahar-Djin's case, just have really fitting domains. Obviously anyone can get involved with a detectable action but if anyone else wants Ymon-Thal to personally appeal to their god, just get in touch.
Edited to add Ymon-Thal's appeal to Nestellbam.

[Godzillarich]

Grawissen, 50/50 AP, The Ebon Basin

Grawissen mumbled to himself, so much he wanted to see but he was confined beneath the earth, unable to move. For some reason, he cannot remember how he got there, all he knew was he was trapped. His mind became almost like putty as the isolation started to get to him. ”So lonely... so quiet…” a sound than rang out from the darkness.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gHqQIB5sxSs

Graw’s mind started to focus, ”is that…” A part of his rocky prison fell apart allowing him to see the outside world.

“Yo Boss I think I found something...” A voice rang out. It’s been so long since the fossilized God could see anything but rock so he had trouble focusing his eyesight. “... I think I found some more of those bones.”

Another man walked up into Graw eyesight. “Fantastic more untapped knowledge.” The man then turned to the others in the cave. “All right dig this thing out.”

The sound of pickaxes was soothing, finally something to break up the monotony. It was almost like music. “Sir I think this may be a complete fossil of an unidentified species. We’re going to get a promotion for this. “ one of the men yelled out as they revealed more of Graw.

A voice then ringed down from the cave ”Can I…” Graw arm ripped out of the rock. ”MOVE!” the excavation team jumped back in astonishment.

“What the bloody hell!” one of the men yelled out.

More of skeleton God pulled its body out of the earth. ”I AM FREE!’ he yelled out triumphantly as he shook the rocks off of his body.

All the diggers looked at Graw in astonishment “It can’t be…”

Graw look down upon the workers, ”How long... has it been?”

______________________

http://www.ancientpages.com/wp-content/uploads/2017/06/citytroy.jpg A city that is the major trade capital of the The Nation of Al-Sinai. Stone structures are a marvel to behold, built with many rare materials.

Graw looked at the wonders of the city as he walked along its streets. ”I have missed… A lot it seems… So much new knowledge to learn.” Graw thought to himself. As he walked upon the stone streets onlookers looked in amazement. The God of legend was really with them.

Graw came to the center of the city where 14 of the gods statues stood, in the center of the capital the two largest statutes, one of Alatadriel and the other of himself. Both made of gold instead of stone like the other ones. Each of the statues had a plaque under them

(occ: keep in mind none of these are supposed to 100% correct... Or even slightly correct)


Grawissen: One of the two supreme Gods along with his wife Alatadriel. He came to the village after he slew 1000 foot long Leviathan to say the future chieftain Morgana. He gave the people knowledge and is at the heart of the Prehist.

Alatadriel: one of the two supreme gods along with her husband Grawissen, a noble goddess who gave the people the power fire. Her guidance and will helped to make the glorious Nation of Al-Sinai the power it is today.
(Graw also noticed there were a lot of Foxes around her statue)

Kahar-Djin: Number 2 too Alatadriel and Grawissen. He carves a path for whatever the God step and wherever mortals may need to be.

Yir: a God with great power but also foolish arrogance. He once competed with Grawissen for Alatadriel love but thanks to chieftain Morgana he failed. Because of this failure, he was banished for half a day every day so his presence could not overshadow the glory of Grawissen and Alatadriel. It’s the reason we have nights and days.

Vreyalas: The great forger of the land. He is mainly responsible for forging jewelry for Alatadriel with the metal Grawissen brings him.

Chern: A God of pure evil, his powers are everything against the wishes of the other gods. A destructive painful force. They have fought Grawissen and Alatadriel for millennium trying to destroy all life.
(Graw also noticed the sign also had “throw tomatoes on to him” on it)

Ymon-Thal: the evil servant of Chern, They are responsible for bringing about plagues and destruction to please its evil master. They are also the archenemy of Kahar-Djin

Avestra: the wicked and treacherous, she defiles the great goddesses Alatadriel wisdom and constantly makes a fool of her people and herself. She is the God you pointed laugh at for being pathetic.
( not only was it by far the smallest statue, being about a foot tall but apparently was also a trashcan.)

Nestellbam: A mysterious being deep within the earth, not much is known about him other than his ability to reduce insanity and others. Its mad laughter is said to cause earthquakes

Timorin: The God of war, his voice rings out throughout the battlefield as he seeks glory and honor with his manly build and his thirst for combat. Ready to pile drive anyone who comes near him.

Opulon: The many stars in the sky that makes the sky shine brightly at night. She was made by the glory that is Alatadriel to help light the sky in Yir absence.

Dulnori: The embodiment of greed and gambling. His voice calls out to all looking for riches. Usually drives people monstrous greed or makes the moves everything in a foolish bet for more money. Feeding on their misery

Petr: the embodiment of water that goes through all of us, from the rain to the river to our own piss. She famously punished the orcs for their arrogance for worshiping Alatadriel wrong by turning their land into a desert.

Su'ule: a Beast and servant of Chern who is responsible for the monsters of the earth that rage chaos. Most famously sending the leviathan to kill Grawissen and Morgana.


Graw then shook his head. ”So… This is what time does to knowledge…

______________________________

Graw walked into the capitol building, its walls being painted in gold. When he entered he noticed the skeletons of many extinct animals laying about. The building. In the center, there was a throne where a chieftain or as leaders called now a king sat. “How is this possible?...” the King mumbled as he got out of his seat and did a bow. “... After so many centuries why have you returned to us? Have we proven ourselves worthy of your godly knowledge?”

Graw bowed in return ”it is… Nice to see Morgana’s… lineage has thrived.” Graw then got up and stared at the fossils. ”Before we continue... I’d like to do something… he then touched the skeleton. ”do you mind… If I take one of these off your hands…”

The king simply stared as he tried to get his bearings. “No not at all great Grawissen.”

16 AP/12 DC: create a sentient species:

Species: Ceratopsians, (made from a zuniceratop sskeleton)

Appearance:
http://www.prehistoric-wildlife.com/images/species/z/zuniceratops-size.jpg

Life spanned; 150 to 200 years

Description: a race of nomadic travelers whose mission is to spread knowledge between the various people around the world. They also help out with trading between different nations as well as communication. In return for the services all they ask is for their eggs and young to be protected in the cities that they travel too. If they refuse these terms or the egg are destroyed they will cut themselves off from those cities, basically cutting off trade with them which could severely handicap said city. They have no allegiance to any countries but they do worship Grawissen and most of them who decide to stop traveling usually settle in Grawpolis but they do also settle in other places.

+2 Mining: They have an extreme knack for materials from beneath the earth, in addition they have a knack for digging tunnels the sleep during the night.

+2 knowledge: They are said to be one of the wisest species on the planet. Having a detailed and accurate knowledge of every culture on earth.

+2 architecture(from the pickax): They have also helping construction of various cities, either repairing damages or helping to establish new trade posts.

+1 writing: they are have a knack for understanding many languages with enough study

Graw then messages the other gods, “to benefit your people and to clear up the misinformation I ask you for your help. No longer will you be haunted by these myths about your greatness.”
.


“I will assist and in return, you will insist me.”
The Passing.

+2 knowledge: A treasure trove of knowledge, all of the dead passed by this library to give their life knowledge to be stored for eternity
+2 mining: the land has many beautiful mountains that many tired souls can rest on
+2 architecture( pickax): the architecture where the souls wait for their reincarnation are beautiful palaces that are great place the rest.
+ 1 writing: all can communicate with each other no matter what language in the passing.

[gac3]

Note some terms and phrasing may need to be edited to be more era appropriate

Timorin 50/50: The Tainted Land


Timorin stretches out from where he lay in the Tainted Land. It has been a long time since he felt so well rested. How long had he slept? Perhaps a whole eight hours? Those Human women, really knew how to wear a god out.

Looking around he did not spot either of the women he had been with the previous night. Nor any of their wandering tribe. Perhaps more time had passed than he realized. He began to set out to investigate and see what had happened.

Within the hour, he found a small town. Turning into a cat, the most devious of creatures to be accepted by humans, he strolled through the gates and wandered through town, eavesdropping on all those he encountered. One thing he learned for sure during his morning stroll is that somehow while he slept, people had totally become… boring. These people were filled with wants and desires that are all so interesting, but none of them will act on them.

Timorin gathered his strength, this would take far more than just him to fix. This has been the most eventful and terrifying 8 hours he could have slept through if things could get so… mundane. In an instant, there were several forms around him. All in shifting forms, not quite settling in any shape yet. Their eyes gave them away. Some held the wide eyes of fear, others the intent gazes of determination or rage, others were green with envy.

"My children, I have brought you forth for one purpose, go forth and bring out people's true inner selves. Let them live freely, without their walls of obligation holding them in or chains of morality binding them in place. Let us end this inaction." And with that, the beings went forth, with one sole purpose in mind, to cause chaos. All but one small group, those whose eyes were bright with hope. "You. I have a special task for."


Through the small town in the Tainted Land: ((All of course dependent on the success of the action))

The Widower's Grief**: A middle aged man met with a younger woman in the dead of night. "We have to stop meeting like this," he says. "Your father would never approve."

She shook her head. "I don't care. We love each other and I'm already twenty two years of age. If we don't commit to each other soon, I will be nothing but an old maid. We can run off together and start a new life."

The man shakes his head. "You know I could not do that to my wife."

"Your wife has been dead for seven Winters and still you choose her over me." The woman pulls away, tears in her eyes. "Forget it. If she is still more important to you after all this time then her corpse can warm your bed at night." She fled in the night, nearly falling in her haste and distraught state. The man was left standing there in the dark, alone. Tears of his own slowly falling to the ground.

The next morning he visits his wife's grave and sits there, talking to her about his confusion when suddenly a figure appeared before him. At first it looked fuzzy through his tears but after blinking them away, he saw the ghostly image of his wife standing before him.

"Darling, is that really you?" She nods. "What does this mean?" She smiles. "So I should go for it? Is this you giving your blessing?" She nods and he smiles. "Well I suppose it would make everyone happier and solve our problems. Well except that bitter old bastard."

The next morning the young girl came to her lover to grieve over the sudden disappearance of her father. The man consoled her and within a fortnight they had wed. The father's body was found weeks later, partially eaten by wild animals.


The Maid's Fear**: The Mayor's maid had come to town desperate for work and with child years ago. A scandalous woman who had no family or husband to speak of despite being an ancient twenty eight years of age. The Mayor took her in and offered her a job to help her out. She was the talk of the Town. She must be some form of witch or harlet to have wormed her way into the mayor's house, or so the town gossips say. She must be hiding something nefarious.

Then the maid was given the night off, and went out to the town. Now this was a rare occurrence. She was almost never seen outside the Mayor's home. This night however, she decided to celebrate. She went to the bar and drank like a fish. Then suddenly, she noticed a man staring at her from down the bar. No one recognized this man for he was not from town and no one could remember him entering the bar. When the maid saw the mysterious man however, she went pale and stumbled out of the bar, fear in her eyes. The next day she was gone and neither she not the mystery man was ever seen in that town again.


A Child's Jealousy*: There were two children playing in the street in the town small town. They each wear a small sack on their hip with a snack. After a few hours of playing, they sat down on the edge of the town well to eat their snacks. One child, the orphan not who lived at the mayor's house, pulled out an apple to eat. The baker's son, however, pulled out an apple tart. The little orphan boy became sad, looking at his desert and wishing that he had a tart. He asked if the other boy would split the apple and the tart with him but the baker's son refused. The sad little orphan boy put his apple on the wall of the well next to him and let anger well up in him. Then suddenly a cat was on the well next to him. It made long eye contact with him and then knocked the apple into the well. The boy nodded and turned to his friend. Quicker than the other boy could react, the orphan snatched the tart and shoved him into the well.

It wasn't for several days before they found the boy and pulled him out of the well. After the story was told, the orphan was approached. "Is it true that you pushed my son into the well and left him there to starve?"

The orphan shook his head. "He had an apple."


The Teenager's Lust: At the butcher's funeral a pair of teenage girls sat together in the back and cried. "Things have gotten so bad in town. First the butcher gets eaten by bears. Then that whore of a maid ran off, abandoning her demon bastard to terrorize the other my kid brother," one of them said.

"I know said the other girl. But we have each other. We have to promise to watch eachother's back," said the second.

"Let's get out of here." Together the two girls went back to the bakery and hid out in the kitchen. There they sat, enjoying the smell of bread that had been baked that morning before the funeral. Suddenly a rat that neither of them had noticed before knocked over a jug of milk, it spilled onto the girls. They screamed and laughed and tried to leave the kitchen but the door seemed to be locked.

"Well let's light the fire and try to dry off our clothes." So they lit the fire and dressed themselves down to their skivies and hung their formal dresses by the fire. They found some old rags to clean themselves up with and then sat together waiting for everything to dry.

The rat fell from the shelf suddenly and the girls jumped up, grabbing each other for the fear of it. Then when it scurried off, they turned back to each other and realized that this was not proper for two young ladies to be so near and improperly dressed. Then they drew even closer.

Hours later, after the funeral, they were found together naked and asleep in one another's arms.



The Mayor's Apathy: The mayor had seen the shadows in town. He had been watching as they visited and everywhere they visited chaos followed. He saw the boys playing together and the girls sneak out of the funeral. He even watched his maid leave on that strange night. Each time he saw a strange shadowy figure either before or after. Today he was drinking, wondering what was happening to his town. People were dying and fleeing and going about as if they don't have a care for what is decent or proper. He took another long swig. Tomorrow I tell the town about the strange shadows I have been seeing. Then he saw another, right before his orphaned ward came into the room. He had a strange look in his eyes as he stared at the mayor. "Will you finally tell me why you pushed that boy into the well?"

The boy looked at him, that cold expression deepening. "All the town does is want want want. Nobody asks you and me what we want. So I took what I wanted."

"But what about the other poor boy?" The Mayor took another long pull from his tankard.

"He was mean, and he got what he deserved."

"I suppose you have a point there boy. I suppose you have a point." The next day, the mayor was found at the bar having drank his way through an entire keg. When questioned, he said he would pay the tavern back for it if they really insisted. Then he raised taxes on alcohol and used the money to pay back the tavern. When told this was unfair, he looked at his young Ward and then back to the tavern owner. Then the mayor shrugged and took the child back home, not remembering the strange look or shadow he had seen that night.


Create Lesser amagical Minions. 12 AP, 8 DC
Make the Shadow Walkers. Formless shapeshifters tied to a specific emotion. They are drawn to and can sense their linked emotion and can sense how best to draw it out of people. That is their sole goal, to fuel their emotion and create interesting drama. They are created from powerful concentrations of emotion. Such as a Rage Shadow being born on the battlefield or perhaps a Grief Shadow at a funeral. Stuff like that. No real physical threat but do have physical form.

+2 War, +2 Drama, +1 Games (not sure if it applies. Will justify in my next post), -2 Fear.

+3 total

[DarthArminius]

Su'ule , 50/50 AP

The Monstrous Goddess of the Neanderthal tribes noticed that her kind managed to prosper despite the harsh conditions imposed on them by the Gnawing Wastes. Su'ule smiled, but then came their conflicts with the giants. These incredibly powerful mortals were a threat to her beloved children, the well, kind of Human people that actually worshiped her. These people, who were what the Humans of Earth would describe as Neanderthals, were devout, but also quite formidable and tough to survive such an inhospitable region, even if they were blessed by Su'ule. Su'ule believed that it was time for her people's circumstances to change. Blessing the mightiest and wisest of the whole clan living in the wastes, Su'ule gave this man the power to change into nothing other than a dragon at will.


-14 AP to create an immortal Human who can change into a dragon at will
+2 Sorcery
+2 Monsters

[Maryring]

Petr: Sanctuary Island. 50/50 AP

It's another beautiful day in paradise. The sun is shining, the birds are singing, and the crystal blue waves of the ocean lap against the white beach. A pair of young neanderthal siblings are playing at the edge of the water under the careful watch of their older brother. The twins are amusing themselves by practicing their magic. With smooth, playful movements they grab a small part of the ocean, form it into a globe of water and then lob those globes at one another. The dance with water and the waves come so naturally to them, that when the seas suddenly start to churn with life, they sense it and step away before the undercurrent gets a chance to tug on them. As the two rush further up on the beach, their brother rushes down to join them, and the three hug against one another whenthe wave suddenly sweeps against them, knocking them back and further up on the beach, before pulling back to reveal the radiant form of Petr. The brilliant watery form giving a most radiant smile to the kids.

"Good day mortals. It's been ages hasn't it. Oh, you probably don't recognize me, but I gave instructions on how to save the life of your ancestor. I can see the bloodline going strong in you, and it makes me happy to see you all bask in my gifts."

The three blink in stunned surprise. The brother immediately recognizes who he's dealing with and throws himself down on one knee as a sign of respect. The younger kids... don't. "Hey! What are you doing?" The young girl walks right up to Petr to prod the god right in the chest. "We were playing here. Why'd you gotta show off your magic like that?!"

"Yeah." Her brother joins in, scowling angry up at Petr. "We were here first y'." He is silenced as the older brother grabs both, pulling them closer while covering their mouths.

"Please, forgive them Great One. They know not what they're doing."

"Oh?" Petr leans in, staring at the older boy's face. "Are you saying then... that the island is failing in it's role to educate it's young?"

"Ah. I."

"Relax." Petr's face breaks into a smile as they guide the older neanderthal to release his grip on his siblings. "I'm not mad. And I am not vengeful. As for you two." Petr opens his palm, revealing a small, beautiful black pearl, and a piece of orange and pink coral. "Will you accept these gifts of the ocean as way of apology?"

"OOOH!" The two young ones gasp in surprise, snatching the things out of Petr's hand, before they turn around and immediately start running towards the closest settlement. "Momma! Momma! Look what we got you!"

Left behind on the beach are Petr and the older brother. "Your siblings are adorable... Bern, is it not?"

"How'd... no, of course you'd know. The wise ones of the observatory told us that you would soon manifest. Tell me, why here? Why now? Why."

"Shh." Petr smiles. "In due time. I will reveal myself to all soon, and properly. I'm sure there are several making preparations for when they think I will return. And I adore them for it. But... I am afraid that I must ask you to ensure that a few minor things be done, so as to ensure the proper respects are paid."

"What do you mean?"

"I have a plan. And you will help me see it bear fruit. Come. The pearlescent moon is in only a few nights."

---

The task Petr has left for Bern is not a simple one. He has to convince everyone to move the celebrations up to the lake at the top of the mountain peak. He has to make sure the celebration reaches it's zenith as the moon reflects perfectly upon the lake. He has to convince the finest druids and the most skilled starseers to prepare peculiar celebratory designs, and he has to do this without telling everyone that he has actually met with the Great One. He can only hope that the Great One will offer some measure of support.

14 AP/10 DC: Sanctify an area for +2 Moon.

Petr is going to attempt to sanctify Sanctuary Island, with the Moonlake as the focal point.
+2 from Water as the ritual is performed around the lake itself.
+2 from Healing as the lake itself shall become a wellspring of life.
+0 from Mystery Domain that shall be revealed upon success or failure.


---
Ymon-Thal

"Ymon, dearest... no." Petra shakes her head as she gazes upon the Passing. "This place is a mess. A pointless cruelty giving nothing. A basket to contain the souls, simply to contain them. You have created a place that punishes those who heal, and rewards those who do harm. This place is yours, but if I am to stabilize it, I will not permit it's cruelty to remain unaltered." She raises a hand, calling forth a river of cool, crystalline water, a reflection of Petra's own divine will as an immutable part of the Passing. A cleansing river that washes away sin, pain and memory.

Petra offers the domains of Healing +2 and Water +2 to create the river of Absolute Purity. Those who drink of the waters will forget their past lives and be born Tabula Rasa, a completely blank slate that offers a new beginning. Because the Passing is a place enforcing misery upon those who suffered in life, Petra's -2 Pain penalty is also in effect.

With her power so given, Petra turns to Ymon with a frown. "Soon, I shall reveal myself proper to the mortals. You are invited to observe the proceedings, and see how the island thrives beneath your blessings. The lake shall, if my power permits, become a wellspring of life. Perhaps you and your other half may find a use for it with this new world of yours."

---

Opulon

"Greetings Opulon, and my thanks. Your blessing has allowed the people of Sanctuary Island to achieve greatness unthought of. They have navigated the Sanctuary Island all the way across the Sundered Sea and are still hale and hearty. I wish to reveal myself to them and bless them for their great works on this next night of the full moon. For your assistance, you are invited to observe and join in on the festivities."

---

Grawissen

"You wish to create new life? Understandable, admirable even. They will live freely, and their works shall be good. Of that I am sure. I will offer them my blessings. Great vigour and a small touch of Water, so that they may visit Sanctuary freely. But in return, when I create life of my own, you will assist me in bringing my child to life."

Assisting Grawissen in the creation of the dinodudes. +2 water and +2 healing to grant them vitality, and enough natural aptitude to pass Sanctuary's third gate.

"With that aside. I am about to offer new blessings upon the Sanctuary. You are invited to observe, and even join in should you so choose."

---

Vreyalas

"Greetings. A new age dawns upon mortalkind, and a new dawn deserves a proper celebration to mark such an auspicious situation. Please, I ask you to join me upon Sanctuary Island when the moon is full, and to spread your influence so that all the mortals of the island may gather to witness this dawn of a new age."

---

Avestra

"Greetings Queen of the Forest. In the age hence you invited me to bless your sacred tree. Now I return the kindness and invite you to join a festival upon the Sanctuary you helped build. When the moon is full, I shall reveal a blessing upon the mortals of the Sanctuary. You have assisted me greatly thus far, and so I invite you to join in on these festivities."

---

Dulnori

"You gave your gifts to Sanctuary Island in an age hence. Now the island thrives, in part from your blessings. Soon, I shall reveal myself to the mortals in a brilliant display. As you assisted the creation of the island, so too do I invite you to partake in these festivities."

---

Kahar-Djin

"I am aware of what you have done. Your efforts to turn Sanctuary into a prison for those who use Su'Sorcery. But the island thrives, and the people there live happy lives. Your gates have served the primary purpose I intended for them, and so, despite this... minor disagreement, I extend to you an invitation. You assisted the creation of Sanctuary, and so you are welcomed to be part of my planned celebration where I shall reveal myself to the people of Sanctuary."

[AlexanderML]

The Empire of Clans:

The clans of the Sugrandi had changed somewhat over the centuries, becoming more interconnected over time while also forming distinct roles for the individual clans.

Giants rule over men and neanderthal with petty kings, warring in campaigns against their eastern and southern neighbors as well as defending against the threats to the north; they are overseen by the theocratic Shining Court as well as the Emperor (who is voted into office by the Shining Court).

The clans have established kingdoms over the ages, less numerous then the tribes of old there are still many under each of the clans. Each of these kingdoms have a petty king, who swear to serve the shining court and emperor. Kings of the same clan often get together for campaigns, marriages, and trade. Being a petty kind is only sometimes hereditary, as it is seen more as a position for the honorable and pure.

Over the past few hundred years, a few new minor clans had formed, but the important ones to note would be the oldest:

The Mighty Tradano: A warlike clan, they still do most of the raiding and expansion work. They take the divine claim over the lands near the stonethroe mountains very seriously, and are the only clan to still see Yir as a father figure. Tradano make cruel kings, using the ceimmi as living shields and almost always condemning those they conquer to be ceimmi. It is wise to fear the hoplite walls they create and the brutal axes on their sides (they are like spartan vikings).

Being proud, Tradano never mate with humans, even those with strong giant blood, for those that do are condemned to torture and death (neanderthals of exceptional strength have been known to prove themselves).

Tradono are rivals to the mystical Incanda, whom they view as being too reliant on lesser magics (not solar) to save them.

The Numerous Gragani: Average in most things, they are perhaps the largest clan. They make for average kings, giving out what the giants consider fair justice. As a whole the Gragani have embraced trade, their kingdoms becoming the glue that holds the empire's economy together.

Gragani normally only let their males mate with non-giants, though the female giants typically have full control over who (and how many) husbands she will have. Pa'dowon male are the exception to this, allowed to marry a Gragani female as long as he is in line to inherit his father's titles, though whether this is more due to Gragani respecting the giant blood in the Pa'dowon or the wealth they normally hold is up to the individual.

Gragani get along with all the other clans just fine, though the Cavpo do stretch the limits of their hospitality sometimes.

The Caring Ulister: These are the kindest giants, not even looking down upon the humans. Most that rise to power among the Ulister are petty queens, and they are considered so kind and fair that it is said that human cities have surrendered once they realized that an Ulister would rule them. It is a shame they have so few lands, but they prefer to secure the rich lands they have rather than reach for more.

Ulister's live in lands where giants are the majority, and only have laws against their females marrying non-giants unless they are Projecta or Pa'dowon.

The kind nature of the Ulister's make them fear the Tradono and dislike the Cavpo and Icanda.

The Conniving Cavpo: These small giants (only 8ft tall on average) live in underground furnace-forts, and are the smallest clan. Cavpo practice all magics in the name of discovery and personal power, using the title 'Wizard' for those that have become a master in a field of magic; however, most lose their way trying to learn more than one kind of magic at a time and become weak generalists. They are also skilled craftsmen, working with the metal and magicite of Stonethroe to create wonders that still confound the other clans. However, they are prone to intrigue and make poor kings, giving most day-to-day authority to local councils instead.

Cavpo never allow any of their members to mate with non-giants, they distrust the idea that giants born from non-giants could be as pure or strong as 'pure born'. It's one of the reasons they are still the smallest clan.

Cavpo have few friends among the other clans, but the all the clans welcome what they make and the Tulmer at least try to keep friendly ties with them.

The Wise Sahgori: These are the largest of the giants (many over 11ft high), they are the wise counselors of the Sugradi. They live upon the blessed peaks of the stonethroe mountains, and help to bring Yir’s light down upon the world through magic and word. Over the last few hundred years they have established the Shining Court and the seat of Emperor. Only three times have they been denied the seat of Emperor, for few are as worthy as the Sahgori. They rule the heart of the empire and so have few non-giants to rule over, but those that are kings are considered the perfect examples of justice (for giants) in most cases.

Sahgori never allow any of their women to marry or mate with non-giants, death or dishonor is the penalty they face (they get to choose, most choose death). Sahgori males cannot marry non-giants, but they can mate with them.

Sahgori get along with most of the tribes, but the Cavpo's intrigue against the court have put them in a dis-favorable light for centuries.

The Ever-Building Tulmer: These giants are considered one of the oldest clans, average in most ways they are known for having grand fortresses and towns being planed decades before construction begins to insure perfection. Tulmer masons are often consulted by the other clans, and the Tulmer themselves have a rite their kings go through at the start of their reign where they return to the mountains to construct a shrine (it's said the higher quality the shrine, the better the king's reign will be). Tulmer having such a large population of non-giants in their lands (50-1), have over time been forced to treat their people well, with many humans or neanderthals being in high positions of power.

Tulmer are often allowed to marry anyone they wish to, as long as the individual is strong.

Tulmer heavily dislike the Icanda on the other side of the mountains, seeing them as barbaric. The Cavpo are skilled at their trade, and are often sought after by the Tulmer.

The Mystic Icanda: These giants live upon the grey plains, shaping the poor land over the centuries into a place where they can live. They practice the magics of Water, call upon the power of nature to bless their fields, and in times of need unleash the devastating power of Fire. While they live in mud-huts and farm poor fields, they are by far the most talented in sorcery. A tale that Icanda tell is that a Cavpo would steal one of their babes if they had the chance, just to teach it their dark magics (normally implying that the combination would be a bad thing). Icanda have no kingdoms, and only have one king at a time to represent them (more an ambassador role than one with authority).

Icanda let those among them mate and marry whomever the wish, so long as they stay in the grey plains. Some of the Sugrandi have question whether mutant blood runs through their veins.

Icanda don't much care for politics, but dislike the Cavpo and Tulmer somewhat.


The Luvti (Little, aka not a giant) folk unlike the giants of the empire are split among different castes, depending on how close they were to the giants themselves.

Ciemmi: The lowest caste, these humans and neanderthals live the lives of almost-slaves. Those peoples that do not submit to the Sugrandi when they expand their lands are condemned to be ciemmi, though some crimes can have the punishment of becoming ciemmi. They do the work that the giants deem beneath them, such as farm or house chores, for little to no compensation; however, they do have the right to live so long as they serve their betters, including those Luvti of higher classes. The only way they can move up in caste is to become accomplished on the battle-field, which with leather hats and wicker shields being considered standard quality for Ciemmi it is rarely done.

Sirdi: The largest caste, these are the standard non-giants of the empire. They pay high tribute and fear the whims of the petty kings, but are technically free by imperial law and are treated with some level of respect as long as they serve their betters. They occupy most positions in society to some extent, at least where giants are not common.

Projecta: Those sirdi parents that discover that their child is a giant are risen to the caste of Projecta (potential), as well as any of their direct children. Because of their connection to the divine blood of the Sugrandi they are treated almost as an equal to the giants, able to own land and move whenever they please. Projecta can normally afford metal armor when called to war, though rarely more than than a helm and limb guards.

Pa'dowon: Projecta that in some way become notably accomplished may be awarded with the rank of Pra'dowon (proven), which can be passed down once to a direct decedent. This small caste of non-giants are legally treated equally to giants, able to own land, move as they please, vote for local mayors, own businesses, or even have command in the military (sometimes over giants). Over time this has created a small elite caste of non-giants that jealously guard their estates so that they may raise the tribute needed to have the local petty king grant the full Pa'dowon status to their children (or at least an heir). When called to war the Pa'dowon either try to skirt military duty or work as a cavalry force.

To be finished later, but the gist of it can be put down now.

The Shining Court is made up of the nobility of the Sahgori clan, with petty kings of each of the kingdoms getting a single representative. It deals with many of the day to day decisions that the empire makes, writing law, and having control of the military.

The emperor is elected by the Shining Court for life, having the ability to overrule the court on any matter whenever they wish. The emperor is the only one that may declare war, approve law (and may write it himself), or generally oppose the council.

Those within the empire hold Yir as the highest of divines that is both more holy and mighty than all others in the pantheon. Past a few general descriptions of the other gods there are differences between the kingdoms as to the specifics. (Some generalizations below).

Yir: The pure ruler of the world, through it's power did she give life to the world and bless it with good spirit. The Stonethroe Mountains are where the Sahgori state that life first appeared, and that the first thinking creatures were they themselves, born from their Yir's light. Yir still gives life to the world, having to rotate the world around itself so that both sides may be seen.

She acts to keep the lesser godlings from destroying the world and the blessed. The Beast in particular is used as a scapegoat in many tales of the evils of the world, with Yir confronting it and bringing hope to the giants through it's power and care.


Kahar-Djin: Often seen as a fool who over complicates things to the point of uselessness, they are seen as a warrior that at least tries to fight the Beast and it's foul ways. Tulmerian's in particular are fond of setting up small shrines of Kahar-Djin in temples to Yir.

Grawissen: The foolish spawn of the Beast and Vreyalas that dared tried to challenge Yir to a contest of strength, losing so terribly that it was cast into the shadows for an age. However Cavpo deny this recollection of events, stating that Grawissen was more of a thinker and trickster who fooled Yir through exploiting her good nature, and was then cast into the shadows by Yir. Good giants ignore this version of events.

Vreyalas: Diabolical godling that founded the city-sized thorn in the giants glorious expansion long ago. By it's wicked and malicious intelligence, it's found ways to hurt the civilized peoples of the empire for centuries.

The Beast (Su'ule): The most malevolent creature in reality, it's hate for what is right is thinkable and it's instincts are evil pure. With it's vile spawn of mutants it constantly schemes against the goodness of the world. It's the source of all monstrous behaviors, and the foul power of sorcery. Cavpo give sacrifices to the beast in hopes of taming it's nature, saying that Yir did so through taking it's true voice away, but all the other giants can at best tolerate the Beast's religious iconography.

[The JoJo]

Avestra, Sunset Forest, Ebonbark Bay, 50/50 AP

Seven centuries past in a blur. While cities rose and fell in the outside world, life for the Crow People remained largely unchanged. Through the whispers of the trees, they kept a close eye on the boundaries of the forest and quickly deterred any outsiders bold enough to transgress. Rarely did they have to reveal themselves -- a warning cry and the banging of wooden clubs against the trees was usually enough.

Though they saw little of their deity, offerings continued to be left beneath her perch, which were always gone by the next morning. Anyone who suggested that the local wildlife might have a hand in this would be good-naturedly rebuked for their lack of faith in the Great Crow.

So it came to pass that one morning, when Avestra was swooping through the forest in the form of a raven, she saw a flash of crimson in the undergrowth. She spun around and landed on the nearest branch to take a closer look.

It was a young tallhead woman with a red weave around her head, lying prone on one side. Her drab woollen dress and bronze armbands betrayed her Sinalese origin, but why she was here, Avestra couldn't say.

Had she been banished from her tribe? Or simply lost her way? Either way, she had apparently taken the answer to her grave. Avestra was about to fly on, when she saw something moving beneath the young woman's skirt.

A baby boy, perhaps ten months old, with bright, almond eyes and round cheeks. He let out a feeble cry, tugging at his late mother's clothing with tiny fists.

The scavengers would be here soon. A pity. But such was the way of nature.

Then, Avestra heard voices. A group of Crow hunters returning from their daily excursion with a boar in tow. Almost as if on cue, the baby began to cry louder. Fate, it seemed, had a different idea in store for this child.


~

The Crow People usually kept their distance from outsiders, but this was different. After some brief discussion, it was decided that the young woman's body would be decorated in a the Crow way and then left for the birds. It was the least they could do in the circumstances.

The question that vexed the tribe was what exactly to do with the Sinalese child gurgling in their midst. No Crow had left the forest in living memory, and besides, nobody knew which settlement he might have originated from.

A vocal few suggested making a quick end of the infant, before he grew up and became a potential threat to them. It was no less than his own people would have done, they said. But what if, others pointed out, the tallheads found out in their mysterious tallhead ways and came back to the forest to wreak revenge? Such a thing couldn't be risked.

Then, a more canny Crow piped up. What if they kept the child, raised him as their own, and then when he was grown, use him to teach the rest of them all of his tallhead tricks? The tribe members liked that idea, and quickly resolved to do just that. There was a Crow woman who was still grieving the loss of her own infant and likely would have accepted a boar piglet if it had been wrapped in swaddling.

"Hush, little one," she whispered. As she looked up, she saw a raven take flight from a nearby tree. A sign of good luck, if she had ever seen one. "You shall be called... Juniper."


~

Avestra soared once more across the world, taking in all that had changed since in the past few centuries. What she saw did not please her. Humans of all kinds had multiplied in numbers she hadn't thought possible, their burgeoning population fueled by the crops they sowed. Beasts that had once roamed freely across the land were now docile captives. Some had even begun quarrying rocks out of the ground, leaving ugly scars in their wake.

She had to act to even the scales for the few who still lived by the old ways, or near enough. For that, they would need materials to build their own tools. She had just the idea.

8 AP/4 DC: Create a basic non-living substance -- amberis -- with +2 nature and +2 birds.

Amberis is made in a painstaking process that begins with the extraction of sap from a living tree. The species of tree is an important choice, as this will determine the final properties of the amberis. The sap is then put through an arcane process involving repeated exposure to water and small quantities of ash and guano, until eventually it congeals into a hard but malleable substance. This is amberis. It resembles amber in appearance, but otherwise has all the physical and electrical properties expected of a metal. Broken amberis can be melted down and reforged many times over.

Avestra shares knowledge of how to create amberis with the following peoples:

-The Crow People of Sunset Forest
-The Starfolk and the Yith of Boa Jungle
-The Cult of the Mad God of Lucent Reef Archipelago

[Megadraco]

Kahar-Djin, The Cosmos, 50/50 AP

Kahar-Djin had spent centuries travelling the cosmos, searching for inspiration, for answers. Wandering, questioning, thinking.

Planning.

They needed to figure out a proper response to the creation of sorcery, and the threat of the scream. Bron would help, of course, but, immortality or not, he was only one man. A mere bandage against an endless torrent of chaos.

Of course, Kahar-Djin wasn't opposed to the idea of mortals obtaining a measure of divinity, not inherently so. No, it was the scream they were opposed to, the chaotic, montrous source of sorcery. And, to be fair, they also didn't like the haphazard, arbitrary way sorcerers were, for lack of a better word, "chosen". No, they thought, if divine power was to be made available to mortals, it should be in such a form that whoever has the necessary will, strength, drive or desire would be able to wield it. And they thought, why not create such a law?

And so, in the deep reaches of space, they began to forge their creation.



The planets had aligned once again. Kahar-Djin once more walked the Path they formed down to the mortal world. They weren't the first to return, it seemed. Or maybe they had been the only one to leave? They hadn't truly paid attention, immersed as they were in their grand creation. The divinity stood above the world, andunrolled a scroll that seemed to stretch into infinity. He then raised his staff, and created paths for sound to travel between all the gods, so they could all hear each other. Then, they spoke,

"My fellow divinities, I have come from my long trip in the cosmos with an announcement to make. I have spent these centuries creating an instricate system of Paths and philosophies of life, imbued with my own essence, to allow all mortals the possibility to obtain a sliver of our own divine power. I shall now read to you an overview of my work. Of course, you need not listen. Your divine domains will certainly be able to percieve the changes I bring. So, with that said, the new law I have crafted is as such:"


A Path of Divinity is more than a simple system of magic: it is a way of life. One who chooses to travel a Path must advocate themselves entirely to it, never faltering, never wavering. As they travel their Path, their progress is marked by Thresholds, that can also be called Ranks. They begin at Threshold Zero, which usually has some requirement that already marks them as special. Reaching the final Threshold marks them as Masters. Few will ever reach that rank, in any Path, but those who do will hold tremendous knowledge or power.

A mortal can never travel more than one Path: A Path is all-consuming, shaping a mortal’s life and viewpoint. Most will never reach mastery in the single one they travel, striving to do so their entire life, and even those who do reach mastery cannot even begin to travel a different one.

On the other hand, an immortal who has mastered a Path can, if they so choose, travel a second one. This is a much harder task than travelling their first Path, as they need to reconcile their new Path with the one they have mastered. Thus, mastering a second Path can take them several lifetimes, if they can even do so at all.

Finally, owing to the divine spark within them, a demigod can choose to travel two Paths at once, and advance in them at a normal speed. However, the warring of two conflicting energies, ideologies and ways of life within them hinders them with a -1 domain until they master one of the two Paths. They do not suffer from this penalty if they only travel one Path, and if they master one Path, they can travel a second one at the same speed as the first, and without a penalty.

None can travel a third Path. This is a feat only a god could accomplish, and their powers are greater than any Path’s.

Kahar-Djin created four Paths of Divinity: The Path of Power, or Manipulation of the World, the Path of Discipline, or Manipulation of the Self, The Path of Sight, or Learning of the World, and the Path of Wisdom, or Learning of the Self. They are distinct, but they all share one restriction: Anyone who chooses to advocate themselves to one of Kahar-Djin’s Paths must stop using any form of Su Sorcery they’ve been using, and never use it again. This restriction is only for their four paths: The framework itself is neutral, and any Paths other gods create is not forced to have this restriction.


One who travels this Path believes that the true nature of divinity lies in a god’s power, their ability to manipulate the world around them. And so to approach this divinity they first seek to master the most clear and direct instrument of power there is: The weapon.

Threshold Zero: To reach this Threshold, a traveller must first master a weapon mundanely. The scroll details six weapons: The sword, the daggers, the war hammer, the shield and spear, the bow and arrow, and the “Cardinal Blade”: a huge slab of sharpened metal that would take great strength to even lift, let alone swing, and that would crush an opponent instead of cutting through them. To master a weapon, one must be able to wield it as an extension of one’s own body: This trains the mind to extend paths to the world outside its body and manipulate it, leading to the first Threshold.

First Threshold: In order to reach the first Threshold, one must have forged a path between their weapon and mind, and once within the weapon, learn to manipulate its core qualities, perfecting it. Any weapon of their favoured type becomes akin to a masterfully crafted version of itself while in their hands, regardless of its former quality, perfectly balanced, supernaturally sharp (for weapons where sharpness matters) and almost indestructible. Each weapon has something specific that must be achieved before a traveller can be considered to have reached this Threshold:


Sword: In the hands of a First Rank Traveller of Power, a sword becomes incredibly light, yet perfectly balanced. It shall be sharp and durable enough to cleanly slice through a sheet of metal with a single strike, without bending the metal and without the sword being scratched or the edge blunted.

Daggers: In the hands of a First Rank Traveller of Power, a dagger is nearly weightless, capable of deflecting an attack and yet also perfectly balanced for throwing. When thrown, it must be sharp enough to sink up to its hilt in a boulder, without being damaged.

War Hammer: In the hands of a First Rank Traveller of Power, a war hammer becomes a fearsome weapon. While it’s not sharp, its wielder must be able to change its weight mid-swing, so that it’s light as a feather when they wind up, strikes their opponent with impossible weight and momentum, then becomes light again after the impact.

Shield and Spear: In the hands of a First Rank Traveller of Power, a shield becomes an impenetrable barrier. It must be able to resist blows from other First Rankers without even being scratched or dented. The spear’s shaft must be unbreakable, and it’s head must be able to punch through metal with ease.

Bow and Arrow: In the hands of a First Rank Traveller of Power, a bow must be extremely supple, its string perfectly tightened, so its arrows are fired with great strength at impossible distances. The arrows themselves must be able to penetrate even the thickest of shields.

Cardinal Blade: In the hands of a First Rank Traveller of Power, a Cardinal Blade begins to approach its true nature. It becomes light, too light for its size, and it is sharpened to a fine edge. It can be used as a shield without scratching or denting. When needed, its weight can be increased tremendously, to deliver blows that can shake the earth.



Second Threshold: After reaching the first Threshold, a traveller must learn to extend their mind outside of the weapon’s physical threshold, wrapping their mind around it, to move it and manipulate it in more extreme ways. The way each weapon evolves becomes more unique in this threshold.


Swords: A Swordsmaster wields two blades: One in one hand, moving as fast as lightning, the other floating around them, dashing back and forth, deflecting attacks and slashing at their enemies. They can attack in a flurry of blows, faster than the eye can see.

Daggers: A Blur is a veritable storm of blades. Dozens of daggers float around them, protecting them from harm, firing themselves at enemies with but a thought, before returning to the storm. On a one-on-one fight, they can let loose a never-ending torrent of daggers.

War Hammer: A Crusher has replaced their old hammer with a massive one, that looks more like a siege weapon than an infantry one. Yet, they move it with surprising grace and speed, most of the weight held by their mind, even as they destroy all around them. They can also throw their hammer with great strength, and recall it to their hands.

Shield and Spear: The Warden now holds their spear in both hands, their shield floating around them, moving and warping to protect them from all angles. They can stretch and twist their spear, like an ever-lengthening snake.

Bow and Arrow: A Barrage can fire their bow with incredible speed. They can stretch their bow far beyond when any mundane bow would break, and fire many arrows with pinpoint accuracy, moving them in their flight to ensure that they always reach their target. Their arrows can also change shape and size mid-flight, allowing for a variety of different strategies.

Cardinal Blade: A Templar’s blade becomes a truly divine weapon in their hands, almost weightless and with an impossibly sharp edge. They can deal blows too fast for the weapon’s size, and move in slow, flowing motions that nevertheless cut their foes like they were paper, and they can move gracefully between the two. Sometimes, they let go of their sword and let it fight on its own, while they fight hand-to-hand.



Once the second Threshold has been passed, a traveller must expand their horizons. They must begin to master a second weapon, until they can wield it with the same skill with which they wield their first one. Once that has been achieved, they have reached the third Threshold.

Third Threshold: A traveller that has reached the third Threshold has mastered two weapons, and their mind is learning to forms paths with matter regardless of its shape. They can now manipulate any sort of non-living matter no larger than a small tent and no heavier than a suit of plate armour in the same way they manipulated weapons in the first Threshold, changing their qualities to make them stronger, weaker, heavier, lighter, and so on, as long as they’re touching it.

Fourth Threshold: A Fourth Rank Traveller of the Path of Power has fully mastered four weapons, and can switch between them at will in the heat of battle. The paths their mind forms have strengthened, to the point that they can manipulate any amount of non-living matter they are in contact with as though it were a first Threshold weapon, and can manipulate non-living matter no larger than a small tent and no heavier than a suit of plate armour in the same way they manipulate a second Threshold weapon, moving it and warping it with their mind. In addition, they can turn any solid matter into one of their favoured weapons.

Final Threshold: A Master of Power has not only mastered all six weapons, with the ability to switch freely between them, but can even mix and match them, and wield them all at once with the paths of their mind, turning them into a true one man army. These paths are so strong that they can manipulate all non-living matter like one of their weapons, as long as they or their weapons are touching it, and they can create their weapons from thin air. A Master of Power can also add new weapons to the Path; any future Master would not need to wield all possible weapons, just any six of them, though they are free to wield more if they so desire. Finally, a Master of Power is part of the Council of Masters, and when they die, their soul is exempt from the regular cycle of reincarnation.


One who travels this path believes that the true nature of divinity lies in a god’s discipline, their ability to always act according to their will, never on accident or unnecessarily, and to shape themselves however they desire. As such, they seek to sharpen their bodies and minds, to approach this divinity.

The scroll describes an intricate martial art named the “Way of the Cardinal Fist”. The martial art focuses on disturbing the Path of an assailant’s attack, and finding or creating weaknesses in their defence, before exploiting said weaknesses. Those trained in this martial art wear a sash from the shoulder to the hip, its colour denoting their expertise. The colours are matched to the Path’s Thresholds, and they are, in order:

Threshold Zero, White: A white sash denotes an initiate, the white representing their nature as a “blank slate” where the Way can be imprinted. One who wishes to travel the Path of Discipline, must, at this time, undertake a Vow of Silence, that is not fulfilled until they advance to the first Threshold by obtaining the blue sash. It usually takes five years to obtain it.

First Threshold, Blue: One who wears a blue sash has mastered disrupting the Path of an opponent’s attack, much like the waves of the ocean can disrupt a vessel’s way. This involves not just redirecting an attack, but also avoiding it, dodging it entirely, moving so it strikes a more resistant part of your body, and even striking at the attacking weapon. A traveller at this Threshold has found that the vow of Silence, coupled with the intense training of the Way, has strengthened their body and mind beyond what is humanly possible. Their reflexes have become lightning-fast, and their bodies are resistant enough to be unharmed by any blow that doesn’t strike them completely head-on, no matter the weapon.

To advance to the second Threshold, a traveller must continue to learn the Way, while their bodies are at all times bound with tremendous weights. This will strengthen them, while also ensuring every move they make is careful and deliberate. Obtaining the red sash usually takes five more years.

Second Threshold, Red: A red sash marks their wearer as an instrument of death, the crimson of their sash denoting their ability to harm. They now know how to find and exploit the weaknesses in an opponent’s defence, with lightning-fast bones that can easily shatter bones, kill, or simply incapacitate. A traveller at this Threshold has found that the intense training of the Way, under the duress of being constantly weighed down, has strengthened them beyond normal human limits. Their blows, unarmed, can shatter boulders, and they can move almost faster than the eye can see. They have also began to detect the life force in and around their bodies, though they cannot harness it yet.

To advance to the third Threshold, a traveller must obtain the black sash. They must also learn to open their body’s natural Thresholds, allowing life force to flow in and out of them freely. To do this, they must begin a cycle of fasting it. At first breaking it every seven days, their fasting must lengthen as time goes on, and they attune more and more to the life force around them. Obtaining the black sash usually takes ten years.

Third Threshold, Black: A black sash denotes a complete mastery of the mundane aspects of the Way. One who is not a traveller cannot advance any further in the Way, but even a mundane black sash is a force to be reckoned with, a whirlwind in the battlefield, tempered by self-control. A traveller at this Threshold no longer needs to eat or rest. They are completely tireless, able to act for days and even weeks without pause. To achieve the fourth Threshold, they must continue to study the Way. No additional requirement is present, but the training to obtain the golden sash is much more extreme than the ones before, and they will be wounded, broken and mended many times. From this moment on, there’s no telling how long it’ll take to advance, and many won’t have the strength of mind necessary.

Fourth Threshold, Gold: The golden sash represents the traveller’s ascent beyond humanity, into something approaching the divine. One who wears this sash no longer needs to worry about wounds. Their body has become as hard as stone, and even if something manages to harm them, they can recover from that damage in an instant. Their actions are completely under their control, perfectly coordinated no matter the situation. The way to the final Threshold, however, will be brutal, twisting and bending their bodies in unnatural ways, as they seek to reshape the Thresholds of their selves. Many are simply unable to do so, their minds clinging to a specific form. However, those who can leave their original selves behind, and craft their own sense of Self, will reach the true mastery of the Path of Discipline.

Final Threshold, Gold and Blue: Blue in the centre, the edges trimmed with gold. This sash represents the traveller’s near-divinity, the return to blue to mean that their body, their very self, is now completely under the power of their mind, flowing from one shape to another at their will. Travellers at this Threshold can take on any form they desire. They are detached from the normal laws of biology, and do not age unless they desire to do so. A Master of Discipline is part of the Council of Masters. If they somehow die, their soul is exempt from the normal cycle of reincarnation.


One who travels this Path believes that the true nature of divinity lies in a god’s sight, their ability to see all and know all. As such, they seek to learn more about the world around them and deepen their understanding of it, so as to approach this divinity.

This scroll contains few specific instructions, primarily listing the five Thresholds. Followers of the Path of Sight must explore and figure the world out on their own, not follow some carefully curated guide. It does, however, contain a rather long epistemological treatise, that reveals little, but allows a traveller’s mind to craft a way to discover the secrets of the world.

Threshold Zero: In order to embark upon this path, a traveller must possess some manner of eyewear or viewing aid of their own creation, made at least partly out of magicite. The scroll contains no instructions for how to build any such device, as the traveller must figure it out on their own, to show their curiosity and ingenuity. However, it does mention that, properly crafted, it will show the world in much starker contrast than even perfect eyesight, and reveal secrets hidden in plain sight.

First Threshold: A traveller at the first Threshold has begun to unravel the secrets of the world. Their knowledge of their field of science is above the average for their age, on par with the leading scholars of their nation. On top of which, they have begun to obtain mystic knowledge on sympathetic paths, that allow them to cause changes in one object by physically manipulating a similar one. At this Threshold, they’re limited to fairly small amounts of non-living matter with a very strong connection, and similar sizes. For instance, they could split a small rock in half, and cause one of the halves to float in the air by holding the other in their hands, above the ground. This might seem rather small and unimpressive, but with their knowledge and ingenuity, it and similar effects should allow them to create many wondrous gadgets. Their eyepiece allows them to gauge these paths.

Second Threshold: A traveller at the second Threshold has dug deeper into the secrets of the world. Their scientific knowledge has advanced beyond the greatest mundane scholars of their nation, and is on par with the greatest of their field. Their control over sympathy has increased, now allowing them to use weaker paths, like material, shape, or even colour, as well as using smaller quantities of matter to control larger amounts. The scroll, however, declares at this point that no traveller can advance further by remaining in their home town. At this point, they must leave to travel the world.

Third Threshold: A traveller at the third Threshold has not deepened their knowledge of the mysteries of the world, but rather, broadened it. They have travelled to many places and seen many wondrous sights, and spoken with the greatest minds of their age. They can now use sympathy not just to enact changes on the world, but to project their sight towards far-off lands and objects, as long as they hold something connected to them. This requires the use of their eyepiece.

Fourth Threshold: A traveller at the fourth Threshold has surpassed the knowledge of even the greatest minds of their age. As for their use of sympathy, they can now perform it even with living beings, though they require a significant connection to them, such as a vial of their blood, or a body part at least as large as a finger. Their control over non-living matter is unmatched, using even the weakest paths for tremendous effect.

Final Threshold: To a traveller at the fifth Threshold, the secrets of the world are laid bare before them. Their scientific knowledge is incredibly advanced, and few things are outside their purview. One thing that seems to be consistently outside their reach, however, are gods and divinity, though the scroll, of course, does not mention this. They are also able to use sympathy on living beings with a far weaker path, sometimes even with non-living matter. Finally, a Master of Knowledge is a member of the Council of Masters, and when they die, their souls are exempt from the regular cycle of reincarnation.


One who follows this Path believes that the true nature of divinity lies in a god’s wisdom, their ability to know themselves, to act in the best possible way, to tell right from wrong and good from evil. As such, they seek to deepen their understanding of themselves, and, as such, of those around them, so as to approach this divinity.

This is the most esoteric of Kahar-Djin’s four Paths, the scroll itself granting little guidance, as this is a very personal Path. Like Kahar-Djin’s other Paths, it forbids its travellers from practising Su Sorcery, but the interpretation for why this is is up to them.

Threshold Zero: Anyone can embark upon the Path of Wisdom, as all sentient begins have some understanding of themselves, and a belief of right and wrong. One who follows this Path must spend a significant amount of time in meditation, seeking to understand themselves, their desires and motivations, to strip away the lies they believe about themselves and all the false justifications for their actions. Only then will they reach the first Threshold.

First Threshold: One who has reached the first Threshold knows themselves far more deeply than most people, understading what they truly desire, and why they desire it. This certainty makes them extremely resistant to any supernatural attempts to control their minds or coerce their actions. Indeed, only the direct intervention of a god could do so. To continue their Path, they must dig deeper into their souls, to meet their true selves, the core that makes them who they are.

Second Threshold: At the second Threshold, the traveller has knowledge of this true self, this fundamental aspect of their being. They can reassert this true nature to dispel any supernatural influence explicitly targeting them, such as enchantments and curses. Once again, this resistance is overcome by the direct intervention of gods.

Third Threshold: At the third Threshold, a traveller has learned, through their true self, to get glimpses of the true selves of others. This allows them to learn the desires and motivations of those around them, which they might be able to use to change their mind on other matters. Of course, this isn't mind control. They can't change anyone's true nature. The nature of divine beings, such as gods and demigods, is beyond their understanding.

Fourth Threshold: One who has reached the fourth Threshold has greatly deepened their understanding of the true selves of those around them. They can entern a deeply meditative state in which all around them are laid bare. This has the side effect of letting them predict, with startling accuracy, the actions of those around them, and thus, react before others have begun to act, or sometimes even before they know what they're going to do. Yet again, gods and demigods cannot be predicted in such a way.

Final Threshold: A Master of Wisdom completely understands both their true selves, and that of those around them. They have theorems and postulates about the natures of right and wrong, of good and evil, that grow close to the truth. Any objective they set, any result they desire, they know exactly what to do to reach it. However, this requires complete understanding, and so even the tiniest spark of divinity might stump them. As such, the knowledge of how to obtain their objectives does not, cannot take into account the actions of those with such a spark. This includes, of course, gods and demigods, but also other Masters, and Su Speakers (also called freeform sorcerers). Finally, a Master of Wisdom is a member of the Council of Masters, and when they die, their souls are exempt from the regular cycle of reincarnation.

"However, I implore for your aid. Not just to ensure this new law of reality comes to pass, but for a much deeper reason. Divine as I am, mine is only one outlook, one experience of divinity. In my four Paths, I have tried to contain a wide variety of outlooks, beliefs and philosophies, but I fear that, while I have included four, I must have excluded many more. So I ask, indeed, I beg of you, to create more of these Paths of Divinity, so all views on divinity might be represented, so that every mortal may find something to aspire to within them."

With that said, Kahar-Djin didn't just wait for responses. They had four more scrolls, meant for the mortals, one for each of their Paths. They had to find suitable places for them. Fortunately, their believers had followed their blessing, and spread throughout the continent. This would not be a difficult task.


20 AP / 16 DC, Create a law of reality: The Paths of Divinity

Kahar-Djin creates a system of magic involving Thresholds to cross(+2 Thresholds), Paths between them (+2 Paths) and those who travel them (+1 Travellers). He also asks the other gods to create paths of their own. Finally, he delivers scrolls describing each path to different places in the world:


Path of Power: Kahar-Djin followers in Al-Sinai

Path of Discipline: The Path Missionaries in the Maddening Marsh, guided by Bron

Path of Knowledge: Kahar-Djin followers among the Prehist

Path of Wisdom: Path Missionaries in the Boa Jungle

[The JoJo]

Avestra, Sunset Forest, Ebonbark Bay

As she flew back through her familiar forest, Avestra felt a tremor through reality. A fellow deity was creating a realm for spirits who had departed this life and were yet to be reborn.

Avestra had always been more interested in the living rather than the dead, but she saw an opportunity to help and at the same time, preserve the balance of nature. She swept a wing across the branches of her perch, allowing the souls trapped within them to briefly light up.

"If you wish to go, then go. There is now a place where you will be able to fly through endless skies, before returning to this realm to start anew, if you so choose."

Assist Ymon-Thal with the creation of the Passing with 4+ nature (2 from herself, 2 from Avestra's Perch) and +2 by creating Avestra's flock.

Avestra's flock are a spectral vanguard of birds who endlessly soar around the Passing, guarding its boundaries both from mortal interlopers and also spirits trying to return to the mortal realm without going through the proper channels. Each is a former mortal who dedicated their life to protecting some aspect the natural world and thus were, upon death, offered the chance to join the flock rather than being reborn.

For a small fee, members of the flock are willing to offer guidance across the Passing. Those who have led lives without respect for the natural world, however, will be refused and left to wander aimlessly, or in the case of the most serious transgressors, taken straight to the Pit of Snapping Beaks, from which few souls return.



It was then that she heard the message from Petr.

"When the Moon is full, I will be honoured to join you in celebration."

Assist Petr with the sanctification of the Sanctuary with 4+ nature and +2 birds. A flock of doves -- no one is quite sure where from -- will annually migrate to the Moonlake in time for the celebrations.

[Artemis P]

Nestellbam, 50/50 AP, Harken Steppe+Stonesthroe Mountains

Verys wasn’t certain why she was here. She was an Aeon- blessed by Nestellbam, preserver of all things and all ways of life. She sighed in irritation- those pesky, annoying Horizon antelopes (the Aeons term for the Horizon Tribe, who compete in games of daring, just like antelope males over a female) might disagree with her on the blessed part, but she knew the truth. While the Horizon tribe worshipped Dulnori, as well as Nestellbam- the preserver, and the embodiment of change- the Aeons remained exactly as they were, as they had always been, as the dragon commanded. Thus, it had come as a surprise when she had felt- no, calling was not the right word- a nudge, a small spark of something unexplainable- telling her to go somewhere, she wasn’t certain, but somewhere north. The elders had rejected her notions, but she had run off anyways.

That was how she ran across this group. It was a small band, maybe twenty or so. Turns out, they were traveling north as well- some adventure, or something- so she had asked to join their group. They had talked for a while amongst themselves, but eventually they had accepted her request. Probably, they thought she was exploring her innate potential, or something the whirlwind would like. Actually, she thought, maybe she was. The thought scared her, and she prayed a silent prayer.

“Great dragon, guide my feet, and allow me to remain as I am. Even though I venture forth, I shall remain me, as commanded by you. Preserve me, as I preserve you in my thoughts.”

They made fun of her- a lot. She was clumsy in their eyes- slow, and fat, unable to keep up with the famed warriors of the Horizon. They traveled at night- there, she was loud, and often was she tripped by various rocks and hazards the night brings. She could not wield a spear as strong, nor throw it as far as they could, nor could she whisper to the beasts of the Steppe. She was, all in all, useless, and she felt it.

“Great dragon, preserve my life,” she prayed, “for I am not equipped for adventures such as this. Preserve my life, so I may act upon your will.”

The closer they got to the mountains- mountains, she thought, actual mountains, the more worried the small war band seemed. They were quieter, and used hushed whispers. When they traveled, it was always under moonless skies, and they stayed closer together, as if huddled. One was assigned to her at all times, guiding her hand as she walked. At first, she assumed that it was because they did not want her to fall off a cliff, and die- but she soon realized it was not that, but rather fear that she might somehow betray their presence.

The night she saw her first giant is a day she’ll never forget. It was a long, long way away- so far, the band moved out of sight, and away from the giant, and were not so troubled. Still, it was big- easily twice Verys height, and very, very muscular. The antelopes hid until the giant passed out of sight, then quickly moved out of the way, fleeing silently across the rocky terrain under the cover of darkness. Afterwards, whispers of “Tradano, Tradano,” were the talk of the camp. Verys did not know the word, but quickly surmised thats what they called the giant. Tradano. Something to be remembered later.

It was several days after the first sighting of the giant that the trouble came. They were coming down to the other side of the mountains, or so they claimed. It was true- the air seemed to be less cold, less thin, here, though the rocks and sharp cliffs were as abundant as they always were. It was quiet- silent, and the group traveled along. There was no warning- Verys was running along at the rear, guided by another, named Starbreeze, when all of a sudden a bright flash of light flashed before her eyes.

“Ahhhh!,” she shrieked, though her noise was drowned by the bellows like thunder that came down. She could not see- yet she heard the orders from the warband, felt as she was pulled and flung into a circle of spears, legs, and sharp objects. She felt for the small sling she kept at her side- the only weapon she knew how to use- and could not find it. So she sat on the ground, crying, begging her burned eyes to see again..

Slowly, they did. Little halos of light rushed forth, and the warband burst into action, flinging spears and immediately ushering themselves into a circle, backs turned to each other, each arm holding a spear. Where each light appeared, a muscular man stepped in, far more muscular than the antelopes- yet they were more agile, and seemed to be holding their own. It was only after a few minutes that Verys realized that the band was slowly moving backwards, away from the lights.
She stood up on wobbly legs, and tried to rush in the midst of them. Seeing a broken spear, she grabbed it.

That’s when the first Tradano came. It came in, larger than life, with a club the size of a buffalo. The tribe threw spears, and it bellowed, yet still it came. And when it crashed, the wall crumbled.

Verys wasn’t quite certain what happened next. 20 warriors of the Horizon tribe fled in sudden terror. The leader, Geronimo, stood atop one of the Tradano, violently yelling. He pulled his spear from the chest of the Tradano- and then was swatted away, blood and gore and bone exploding as it rained down on the ground, on Verys, and she ran harder.

Fleeing was difficult. Rocks, and other crags, seemed to appear from nowhere, as the light seemed to hide the treacherous terrain. More than one of the tribe was toppled, suddenly discovering that it had put its foot into a hole that wasnt there before, or running of the edge of a cliff that had, only moments before, been a vast mesa. Then there were the whips of light- they grappled a man, and he fell, as the hordes of shorter, larger men came running over him, killing him. Bolts of light beams rained down- but where each landed, the men were unaffected. Verys didn’t really stop to think so much on that. Worst of all were the men who gave chase, killing, butchering, never stopping. When a neanderthal came, and pierced her side with a small, bronze object, she gave out a cry, yet swung her own spear, and killed him. She ran again.

Verys wasn’t certain how long she ran for, but in the end, she did indeed outrun her pursuers. By this time, the sun was high in the sky, beaming down like a stern presence, willing her to give up, to quit, to accept the power of the sun and die.

She didnt. What she did instead, surprised even her.

She kept moving. She kept walking, one sore foot in front of the other, a gash in her right leg burning, her side aching of pain, yet never stopping. She kept walking. And then, she found others.

Unbelievably, they had survived. Another brave, of the horizon tribe, blessed by Nestellbam with his life. They joined together, and kept going. Soon, they found another. And then another. By the time the night came, eight survivors had been found. Eight, Verys marveled. Originally twenty and one, reduced to eight by a sudden, ferocious attack.

It was surprising to her that the nudge she had felt had now grown stronger. It was even more surprising when she found herself ahead of the clan, leading them. They deferred to her, and she kept them going, not knowing where, but trusting all the same. IUn turn, they kept her alive, cleaning her wounds and helping her to press on.

It was four days later that they found it, the place, the nudge. A huge wall, of stone, interlaced with pretty gems, approached them. They came to the gate, and were greeted by men in steel plate- a sight almost as amazing as the Tradano. Once they were through, Verys was greeted by the largest amount of people she had ever seen- bustling down rocks paved to walk on, large buildings on either side, people coming and going. They stared at her with open mouths and big eyes. Some came to offer assistance, shouting at her in a language she did not understand. One even tried to touch her wound, but ws stopped by one of the tribe. Her tribe. And she kept going, for the call was stronger now, deafening, and it drowned out all else to its exclusion.

In the middle, they came to a spot. Men were making Art. Beautiful, precious works of paintings, and sculpture, and woodcarvings and stonebendings and all other sorts, things that Verys did not know and could not imagine. Men were reading verse, and making music, and it was a ceremony to behold.

A ceremony. The word echoed in verys head, as she pressed her way into the center of it. And when she came as far as she could go, a voice that was not her own spoke from it.

“Greetings, Vreyalas. Greetings, citizens of wondrous Theshana. Please pardon my interruption of your ceremony; I do not wish to intrude.”

“I have watched you all from afar, and it is to my chagrin we have never met. Your city- indeed, the city, and its people, are beautiful, and wondrous. It brings joy to my heart to see you prosper so.”

“I know of the trouble you have been having, with the Sugradi giants. I see how each day, they grow closer to your city, each day one step closer to destroying your walls. To see such a fate come to your city, that has existed since we first awoke- that would invite chaos. I hate chaos.”

With sightless eyes, she continued “I know not what plans you have, Vreyalas, and I hope you do not think me intruding upon your affairs, for that is not my cause. I do not seek followers, or praise or glory. I have no wish other than to see your city last forever, and for them to continue as they have always done, since the dawn of time. Thus, I offer my help, if you will have it.”

Had Verys eyes been able to see, she would have seen a nod from one of the officials, a man wearing a crown, imperceptible but to the eyes of the god who now spoke through her.

“Thank you. Here are seven of my bravet souls- men who have maintained steadfast belief in me, and survived, though their task has been hard. I offer them to you, people of Theshana, to help you, in whatever way you see fit.”

“Lastly comes one of my Aeons- caretakers of all that once was. Honor her, for hers has been the most difficult journey of all. Indeed, as your doctors have already discovered, she has given her life to my cause.”

With that, Verys dropped to the ground, dead of a festered wound, a spear thrust that had finally killed her. And yet, before she did, divine power coursed through her body, strengthening the walls of Theshana, as a word echoed out through the ages “Eternal.”

24 AP/DC 20: Announce a Prophesy

Prophecy: As long as the values of community are held dear, Theshana shall never be destroyed.

+4 Preservation, +1 Treasures, -2 Sanity

As the mortal soul of Verys began to fade, Nestellbam grabbed a hold of it, keeping it safe from incarnating. He flew, guiding the soul of Verys, as he had done once before, to the home of Ymon-Thal.
"Twin gods, I shall help you, for you seek to preserve the souls of the world. In return, I ask that you take this soul as the first to enter the Passing, for in her I am well pleased."

Nestellbam will help the creation of the passing, preserving the souls of those who cross. +4 Preservation, -2 Sanity

[Artemis P]

Nestellbam and Yir, Upper Reaches of the Stonesthroe Mountains

Nestellbam swam through the caverns. His time was almost complete. 700 years of exploring the cosmos, tunnelling, connecting, preserving the bonds between space and the earth, creating the necessary steps for his next venture- all was almost complete. He just needed one thing. One thing left to tether the two together.

Nestellbam returned to the planet, but stopped. Nearest his growing domain, was an empire of neanderthals and giants- worshipped by the Sun god, Yir. The Horizon tribe had occassional interactions with the giants- usually, none without bloodshed- but Nestellbam was intrigued, nonetheless. He saw the problem with the giants, and the Empire, and thought of a way to accomplish a mutually beneficial relationship.

He beseeched the Sun god “Oh mighty and powerful sun, Yir, that gives light eternal- I commend you on your steadfast commitment to shining light down. Your light is a constant, in an ever-changing world- I do not like change.”

He pointed down below. “Your Empire is vulnerable. Time- the greatest of enemies- will trouble it, and I can see your downfall.” He strode towards one of the giants, invisible. “That there, Angloss the Boulder- he is one of your finest, yes?”

The giant in question was easily 10 ft tall, one of the largest of the giants, and had brawn the size of two neanderthals. He barked a few orders at a few other giants, before coming home- as the light was growing dark, and it was time to rest. As the giant returned to the night, a smallchild came running out- but this child, was not like Angloss. He was normal size, small, even, for a neanderthal. The child came running, and Angloss swooped him up with one arm- all that was needed, for his bicep was as large as his child. And they played, and Angloss patted his child on the back, and spun him around. But as the day finally faded to night, and the boy went to sleep, a small tear fell down Angloss’ face- because his child was not a giant, and a disgrace to Yir, and to Angloss.

“He is good, and loyal- but his child has not been blessed by you?” Nestellbam quivered. “It is a shame- with the recessive gene, one day, all of the giants will fade from this land. And your Empire will be no more.”

He looked at the Sun god with pain in his eyes. “Let me preserve your Empire. Let me preserve the giants, make the gene dominant, not recessive. It would be my pleasure. All I ask, is that when the time is right, you give me two of them. Two, that I may preserve them, and their culture, forevermore.”

And he showed Yir flashes- a vast complex, infinitely expanding, a shadow of the real world, and two giants walking within. As they walked, the empire became more real, solid, preserved- like the image was stealing power from the world itself.

“This is what could be. This is what I intend. Think on it, great one,” finished the wyrm.

The heavens near the Nestellbam shook, whether out of shock or outrage did not matter, for Yir replied with.

“I am a mother and father in soul to each with my blessing and I know them better than YOU godling. I deny your claims of their future frailty for I have seen them thrive down below, many still breed true amongst themselves and cleanse the barbaric men from the land.

More importantly; even if their empire was doomed, even if their blood was to be too thin to survive the ages, I deny your wicked ambition to take two of mine, for I shall never deny MY light to them or anyone. Giving them to you would surely do such harm. Return from whence you came and do not return with such dark ambitions!”

The sun’s fury was unimagineable, power and heat cascading over the dragon in waves that nearly drove the deity to flee in pain, and terror. But Nestellbam is a determined God, and he would not be swayed- at least not yet. He gritted his teeth, and let out a painful shriek

“You speak of love, yet you allow the very course of their nature to change, to falter! Some big, some small, subject to slavery, in the same family! Taking in new people, conquering, yet you fail to see how their ideas slowly integrate into your society, till its unrecognizable from what it once was! This,” the word spits out, distastefully, “this evolution- it is not love- that is chaos! I would preserve their society, their realm! I would preserve their light, and their species, so that they may live forever, however, they may! Please, let me help them!”

Yir's voice at the presence of this god was fire, every word spoken with nothing but anger and contempt.
"DO NOT DARE DEFY ME YOU PATHETIC GODLING! You DARE speak after I have told you to leave? If I see you or have your malicious power come near what's mine again this Age I shall rend your mind till your thoughts are nothing but white haze and it is makes the mad look sane!"

And the fire burned hotter, and brighter, till the wyrm had no choice but to flee, and return to the caverns from which it came.

[Demonjazz]

Alatadriel, The Three Deserts. 50 AP

Alatadriel has been sleeping in the shifting sands of the Orcishtal Mountains for over 700 years. Lying below the surface, being shifted with each minuscule tremor and disturbance in the sand. As the years went on. It was that her body started to rise to the surface as destiny dictated that she come back to her dutiful followers. With a stretch, a yawn, and an arch of her back she rose from underneath the sand. She shook herself vigorously to get all of the sand out of her hair and fur. Catching the attention of very small foxes nearby. "Oh, my word. Aren't you creatures adorable. I've never seen such specimens so small before." Alatadriel scratched behind the little fox's ears. "Yunno, I believe Hua-Ling can interbreed. We should make a mix with you at some point. I know the ones that I left with the Orcs found the temperature quite unfavorable."

The small creature squealed favorably as the god materialized some food for the fennec.

"Hmm... I do believe you are right. This vast country does look like a good starting point does it not? I can feel the great expanse. Each soul that dwells within this place. Can you not feel them yearning for direction?"
The fox barked enthusiastically. " I agree, we should see the others first."

Alatadriel appeared before the forge masters of the Twin Furnaces, heavy orcs at work pounding bronze alongside Sinalese men attending fires and works of their own. Orc Enchanters could be seen in a separate room, carefully inscribing bronze weapons and armor as they chanted their spells over the items. Hua-Ling scurried between people as they helped light fires or bring bits of wood to the workers. A small entourage of hua-ling protecting the two largest fires in the room. Man and woman, Sinalese and Orc, mage and mundane, child and adult. All stood side by side braced against the heat of the furnace in this grand center of industry. The site bustling with activity 24/7, shouts and hurried runners going back and forth. Foreman screaming at the workers, and merchants trying to work deals outside, as crates were loaded onto the river docks; already starting to become contaminated with slag. “I should fix that at some point,” Alatadriel said to herself

It was hardly a fair place, but how the bustle of industry brought people together felt promising to the fox god. She hid her fox tails and gave herself the complexion of an Orc woman with fox tattoos.
An Orc Woman was heavy at work on an anvil. She bore the markings of the boar on her skin. Her skin stained by soot and her brow heavy with sweat she barely looked up towards the goddess as she worked. “I’ve got my work schedule full for the entire week if you’re trying to commission something from me.” She snorted as she spat into a spittoon not far from her workplace.

“No, I just have some questions to ask.”

“Questions? Ya ain’t a merchant are ya?”

“Not really.”

“Nobility than?” Sparks flew up from her hammer. The woman gestured to get farther away from her anvil.

“You could say that.”

“Well, apologies if ya were expecting to be met with more decorum. But ya’d have to come to me outside of work hours to get manners.”

“Oh, I don’t mind at all.”

“Well, that’s the first time I’ve heard that from nobility.”

“Well I’m not your normal noble, you could say.”

“That ya ain’t. So what’d you come to ask, milady?”

“You said you were busy for the week. Are you a popular smith here?”

“Aye, you could say that. I don’t hold a torch to Albert, but he’s a war maker. Doesn’t know how to properly handle silver or gold. Ain’t got much interest in it, to be honest.”

“You’re making bronze though right now.”

“Aye, it’s the base. His royal highness asked for me personally to make a ceremonial Axehead. Least that’s what his consort said to me. Here,” She pointed to the base of the axehead. “We’re gonna add a heavy base of silver here, this is gonna be the part where most of the decoration will be set. It will be inlaid with gold runes on both sides and embossed with the royal coat of arms. We haven’t got the demands for what gems the Khan wants but he’s already sent a rough draft of where he will want his gems. The cuts shouldn’t be too different that we won’t be able to accommodate him. After we make that, the head will be coated in silver, sharpen and touch it up, and then it will be sent off to the khan where the woodworkers will work the haft. “

Alatadriel laughed. “Most would take a weapon asked by the king quite seriously. And yet you treat it like any other job.”

The smith let out a short laugh “Orcs don’t put much stock in preferential treatment. If ya ain’t putting the same kind of work into a job for a peasant that you would a king. Ya ain’t doing yer job right.”

“Does a peasant have the wealth to accommodate your services? You sound like you specialize in gold and silver.”

“I’ll work anything ya give me. But that’s true enough. Wedding bands,” She stopped for a moment taking off her glove to show a band of silver underneath. “Made my own, and it means quite a bit to me you know. Now I’m not one to put much sentiment in expensive materials, but… Yunno, it ain’t really the same if you get a band of copper or bronze.” She put her glove back on. “I do them at a good discount. Mostly leafed, but I don’t skimp like some other guys. It will at the very least take five years before it starts to fleck at all. By that time, the band means more to ya than the material.”

“Is there a reason you're doing this axehead in bronze and not iron?” Alatadriel said changing the subject.

“Iron? Ya’d have to talk to Albert about that stuff. He’s been experimenting with it for half a decade. He made a couple of good hammers, but can’t seem to get the quality consistent. certainly not for a blade of the stuff.”

“Oh, really? I expected you to have that done by now.”

“Watcha mean, miss?”

“Oh, it’s nothing. I’m sorry. I’m not from here. What could you tell me about the nobility here?”

“Ain’t much here in the valley. We’ve got our leaders of course, but you wouldn’t really call them nobles. We’re mostly led by the elders. Some of ‘em were taught to be elders, others just got too old to do their jobs and didn’t want ta retire. Either way, it ain’t really got anything to do with blood. Now the Sinalese, they like to throw around pedigrees. But really there’s only one man whose blood counts and that His Highness, Khan Thrang. Ain’t got heirs the poor sod. No idea what will happen to the Sinners when he dies, but he’s a good khan. They’ve got other nobles, Patricians, members of Khan Thrang’s royal court. They’re elected, but I ain’t got an idea of who elects them. Ain’t the common folk, I can tell ya that much.”

The woman set her work to the side as she wiped the sweat off her brow. “Abram! Get the sharpening stones, and ready the silver!” A boy of about sixteen ran off, and the smith finally got a good look at the woman she was talking too. “Where ya from, miss? I mean we ain’t the only place that does tattoos like that, but that’s definitely desert ink. You from Kanto?”

“Hmm…” Alatadriel framed the woman’s face with her hands. “Yunno, you’d actually look rather charming if we cleaned you up a bit. Worldly, and yet striking.”

“Um… Thanks?” The woman instinctively grabbed a heavy hammer from the table as Alatadriel drew closer.

Alatadriel curtsied. “Ah, A thousand apologies. I never quite caught your name?”

“It’s uh, Arsina.”

“My word, A name as striking as the woman who owns it. Ah, Arsina. You are eternally entertaining, but I do tire of this charade.” Alatadriel’s human form was engulfed in blue flames that swirled around her forming a cocoon In a flash the flames extended outwards and dissipated within the air. The renewed image of the god standing above all. She approached gracefully as she stopped in front of Arsina. Who had like most others in the room had dropped what they were doing to kneel before their god.

“A thousand, no a million apologies. Oh, Divine and iridescent one, Goddess of fertility, birth, and the Large Phallus.”

“Oh, it’s no wor-Wait is that they’re calling me nowadays?” Alatadriel was legitimately taken back.

“Yes, you assist women in birth, bless our fields... And uh…” Arsina’s face was red.

The god let out a booming laugh that filled the gigantic domes of the twin furnaces. “Ohahahoho! Mortals! What genuinely terrific creatures! What a fascinating and masterful understanding you all have. Yes, all that Arsina says is true, but one of my first titles! Please, I prefer the Queen of Summer.”

“I’m sorry we do not treat you with enough respect, Queen of Summer, and Unparalleled Cook. It has been long since we have met with the Heavenly Gift of Mankind.”

Alatadriel took her index finger to the chin of Arsina and slowly led her up to her feet. “Please, rise. There’s not a lot of work that can be done while down on your knees.” Alatadriel clapped her hands. “Please, follow me. Let me know of your lands. Bring this Albert, and... “ She carefully looked at the others in the room. “You.” She pointed to a man with a hawkish nose, dressed in fine yellow draperies bearing the mark of two torches crossed over a shield. “Yes, you. Obvious nobility, we’re going to need you. Give me your rank, name, and titles please.”

The man awkwardly got up but quickly straightened himself up as he pounded on his chest, and shouted. “General Abeir of Al-Setor, Master of Arms, Master of Hawks and Champion of Patrician Thorsdale of Al-Sinai.”

“What a marvelous man. I’ll be sure to meet him.”


Alatadriel sat on a large lounging chair being carried by four attractive men. She reached down and one of her entourage handed her a tray with a teapot on it and several different confections. She poured herself a cup of tea and looked down at a bowl with a viscous and yellow liquid. “What’s this?”

“Uh… It’s honey, your incandescent glory.”

“Like from bees?” She tentatively dipped her finger into the bowl and licked some off her finger. “Oh, wow this is good.” She put some into her tea before just taking the bowl and downing about half of it. “This is amazing. Yes, get me more of this. How do you get it from the bees?”

“Smoke weakens the bees without killing them. Letting us harvest the honey from their hives. We use a can with fire to blow smoke onto them.”

“Ingenious as always. Yes, double the production. We should get a lot more of this.”

“We will be sure to tell the beekeepers and the elders of this, Heavenly Gift of Mankind.”


Alatadriel clapped. “So Albert. You’re a weapons master.”

Albert was still in his blacksmith’s apron and covered in soot. His mangy, greying hair, careful, dextrous fingers and lithe body gave him the appearance of looking weaker than he was. Closer to a researcher than that of a strong blacksmith. “Yes, I’ve apprenticed many smiths that now work in the Khan’s court, and routinely develop weapons for our commanders, generals, and other high ranking figures.”

“Indeed, he crafted my spear and my sword. Best work I’ve ever had done.” General Abeir added.

“How large would you say the armies of my two nations are would you say?”

“I’d say roughly… Ten thousand if we mobilized our entire force.”

“How does our technology fare against the surrounding area?”

“The only one who could rival us are the Prehist people. They are perhaps more advanced in many areas than us, and their miners often work our mines. But in terms of war, they simply cannot compete with our metallurgy. And certainly lack our scale of industry.”

“The Prehist?”

“Worshippers of Grawissen, the mining god. They keep saying ya married the bloke?”

“Married?… Why would I mate with someone like that? He doesn’t even have a dick… Or flesh.”

“I… Uh, assumed it was political and unloving.” The general said.

“Hmm… He is a good and deep friend of mine. Let the heretics believe what they will. They will come around eventually. How have our borders and expeditions gone?”

“The strong protection of their god has not let us take down The Crow People to our south, but we have pushed them back to as far as we can. We have been attacking the edges of their forest to try and prevent resources from getting to their lands. However, they have proven a resilient people.” The general said.

“700 years, eh? Avestra was stronger than I realized. Make sure to watch the borders closely now that her avatar is sure to have arrived.”

“Of course, Heavenly Flame.”

“And of the Prehist?”

“Vassalized.”

“They are not part of our lands officially?”

Albert stepped in. “It’s a matter of architecture. Their walls are simply too strong to be worth penetrating as their mystical artefact can easily rebuild them. Instead, we have made their city dependant upon our trade. Extracting a heavy tribute from their farms to ensure this. ”

“Remarkably good thinking. They should be well under control for at least two ages.”

“The entirety of the Ebon River has been well established as our territory for quite some time. Khan Thrang has been setting his sights on tropical jungle islands not far from us.” The general finished

“It will be of little use. I know of where you speak, and the gods already dwell there. It is best to set our sights on somewhere else before we take on a major competitor. What of Kahar Djinn?”

“The faith remains strong, but they have no major established territory.”

“They may believe what they want, but I do not expect sacrifices to these heathen gods to be tolerated.”

Albert shook his head. “The Path Missionaries are not very large on sacrifice in the first place.”

“Glad to hear.” Alatadriel took a moment to look around. “Is there a reason that there are not many Sinalese living in this valley.”

“Ah, My Mistress. Only people who have taken the initiation ritual are allowed to live in the valley.” Arsina said.

Alatadriel looked to the General skeptically. “Really, we prefer it this way. The land above the valley is quite scenic, and most Sinalese prefer wooden homes to the carved stone ones here. Not really enough room to make a Sinalese house here.”
“Hmm, seems needless to me. But there should be no harm.”

“What can you tell me about the deserts to the North of us?”

“The Great Orcishtal desert?”

“No, all of them.”

“The Three Deserts?”

“They’re a bit ****e.”

“Oh, Arsina. I thought you would have known better. You do in fact live in a desert.”

“The Strength of Ahorca is in its defenses, its river, and its people.” Arsina stood fast in the talk of her home.

“Ahorca?”

“It’s, uh the name of the city, Divine Mistresses.” The general said.

“That is indeed one of the many strengths of Ahorca, but the strength of deserts lies beyond the surface. Many precious materials lie within the Earth of the Three Deserts. Copper, iron, nickel, zinc, turquoise, gold, gypsum, and of course salt.”
“Gypsum?”

“Hmm, I really did think you’d all know more by seven hundred years. It makes alabaster, a beautiful white rock, wonderful for carving.”

The three figures looked confused, and Alatadriel sighed. “You will see in time. Moreover, we’ll have important routes throughout the continent. You have not traveled thus far, but I know that these deserts span nearly from the Lucent Reef to that of The Boa Jungle. Where other gods dwell. With our lockdown on important economic resources, we’ll be able to easily double, perhaps even triple our treasury. Not to mention the number of followers, and power we’ll have in owning such a vast and strategic part of this land.”

“How would you go about conquering such a land, Heavenly Gift? The people of The Kanto Desert and The Toran Savannahs would be sure to know the harsh land better than us and be able to route our armies. Not to mention how to spread out we would have to be to control all One Hundred Tribes of the land.”

“Oh, there’s more than one way to skin a cat, Abeir. A well-placed word can be as deadly as a sword.”


18 AP/14DC: Influence a Country Sized Area
Alatadriel is planning a year-long expedition into the Three Deserts. To 'influence' them into flying under the banner of The Fox. What this entails is a caravan of Sinalese and Orc men and women entering into one of the hundred tribes that are in the desert and appearing with works of great art, weaponry, technology, and other luxuries, and offering them to join The "Empire of Inadriel or The Empire of Holy Flame". It's strongly implied in these visits that not joining the empire would have negative consequences in the form of an invasion. While this is mostly bluff as The Empire doesn't actually have the manpower to take over such a vast area. The Empire is mostly counting on this threat and amazement of the backwater desert dwellers being enough for a substantial number of the tribes to join. Encircling tribes with their own neighbors for refusing The Holy Flame.
+2 From Fire due to the number of forged items shown to amaze the 100 Tribes.
+2 From Foxes for the Hua-Ling travel with the diplomatic caravan.
+1 From Bees, due to Alatadriel's newfound fascination with all things bee-related. She has brought several different glorious confections to share with the desert dwellers.
-2 From Arrogance as she does wish to create the largest empire known to mankind, and unite a hundred tribes under one banner.
+3 Total.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8ZgTIXYAWHo
Stretching from the Boa Jungle to nearly the Lucent Reef. The Three Deserts stretch and vary from grassland savannahs to sandy dunes to xeric shrubland. This area despite to most travelers appearing to be one desert is actually subdivided into three different biomes.

To the South is The Great Orcishtal Desert. Mostly dominated by mesquite bushes and sagebrush. Despite its name, most Orcs do not travel very far into the land. Indeed the Orcs are actually rather stationary in their lives and don't travel much at all. Despite the raiding the tribes have faced from the Orcs, they tend to think somewhat highly of their neighbors. Believing that copying the animal tattoos of the Orcs may give themselves some of the rigid strength of the Orcs. The most advanced of the tribes in the desert primarily due to stealing technology from their neighbors. The Wildlife is mostly dominated by small rabbits, birds, snakes, and coyotes.

To The North is the Kanto Desert. A vast expanse of sand dunes, what few people that call the land their home are nomadic shepherds or scavengers that chase the rains each year. What few permeant buildings that do exist are along the coast where a very unique experience occurs each year in the rainy season. Due to the hard rock underneath the sand, the dunes will have large expanses of freshwater lagoons populate the land with vibrant blue water before drying up each year. Something nearly the entire desert will travel towards each year. Due to the importance of this resource to the entire desert, the people here have a tentative alliance during the rainy season though it has been broken many times in the past. It is also home to the very adorable fennec fox.

To the west lie the Toran Savannahs bordering the Boa Jungle. While not technically a desert, the line is fine and the smaller desert here is actually the Tarbin Desert which lies slightly to the East of the Savannahs. Showing the most diversity of any of the lands here. The people range from nomadic hunter-gatherers that chase the large buffalo herds and more 'advanced' Agrian communities that farm yams, sorghum grain, and other thriving vegetables of the area. Indeed the variety extends to the animals as well ranging from the fearsome lion to the much larger elephant, even larger than the ones in the Ebon Basin. Regardless of the people though, the Savannahs house some rather advanced ways to harvest, and maintain water supplies that not even the Orcs or Sinalese would know. Ranging from collecting the water in dead trees, hollowed-out gourds or even creating artificial reservoirs by manipulating the curvature of the land.

[Garjel_blah]

Chern, 50/50 AP, Starry Crypt

The skeletal figure of Chern had managed to find his way up to the cathedral-like atrium of the Starry Crypt. It was greatly changed since he'd last stood inside it, not only in size but in shape, having been sculpted by the Starfolk pygmies for grandeur as well as ease of access.

In the high-vaulted ceiling of the atrium, the glowloam star-scape was at its oldest and most breath-taking. The dead entombed here were so ancient that truly only their masks still existed, fused into the cavern walls as silhouettes among thick copses of glowloam, eye-holes glowing brightest of all, like supernovae viewed from far away in time. There were hundreds of such masks, generations the Starfolk, but Chern immediately gravitated towards one in particular...

His own. Used by the girl Sia seven hundred years ago to bury her dead mother. It was one of the nearest to the Crypt's entrance, nestled in the side of a distended archway above the first few stairs. Chern felt a sudden sadness, as he stared into the dead woman's mask - the mask that he'd worn at the moment of his awakening. He wondered where her soul was at now. Or the soul of her daughter. Which of these innumerable masks signified her grave?

"It doesn't seem fair, that I awake now, but all of you must remain asleep," Chern said to Sia's mother, reaching up and laying a single fingertip gently on her mask's forehead. "I suppose that in a sense you did awaken, you have been awake this whole time, in the form of the new world around us. But still, you always must leave something behind..."

Then, a familiar being made itself present in the Starry Crypt,


“Remember when we met in the crypt, Chern?” Thal said, pausing a moment before continuing. “You asked me for a blessing to help the dead rest easier. Maybe their bodies rest easier now but their souls still fly aimless in the void and now it is my time to ask you for help to make their journey easier.”

"Ah, my good friend Thal. You must have been reading my mind. I will help you - and I will help mortals help themselves."

Help Ymon-Thal create the Passing

+4 Decay, as the plane of the Passing services the souls of the dead.

The souls of mortals who are buried in a starry crypt using the ritual of the memory mask, will enter into the passing with a spectral replica of their memory mask. In the Passing, souls wearing memory masks will be able to identify each other, and thus continue their relationships beyond death. When it comes time to reincarnate, souls with memory mask will be able to choose one aspect of their new life, for instance where they live, their gender, their abilities, etc., but only one aspect per reincarnation.

Note that this doesn't require a mortal be buried in THE Starry Crypt, the one he made in the Boa Jungle. Anyone can make a starry crypt using a single spore of glowloam.

With this deed done, Chern stepped out of the Crypt to continue his walk.


---

Boa Jungle

Starfolk pygmies saw the masked stranger walking through their lands - across vine bridges and beneath waterfalls, through cleared pasture and town hubs. It was a different land to the one Chern remembered. Far more populated, more prosperous. He was proud to see that they'd remained largely respectful of their land, possibly thanks to the wisdom of prescience allowed by their powerful astrologers.

But Chern didn't stop here. He continued to walk, growing in height as he passed out of the deep jungle, and into the territory of the human Yith. People here were different. They didn't have a starry crypt, though Chern had offered Ymon-Thal the seed for one. They instead practised necromancy on the bodies of their dead. Their choice, Chern thought. Though maybe with the creation of the Passing they would learn a better way.

It was here that the Wiltwatcher felt the presence of yet another god. The bone god. He was using the remains of the old to create the new. Ceratopsians, he called them. Chern... Liked this. He wished these new life forms the best of luck in their travels.

Help Grawissen created the ceratopsians

+4 Decay, to allow them to eat and digest the usually corrosive glowloam. Though this does not stop them from being buried with the ritual of the memory mask.


Graw then messages the other gods, “to benefit your people and to clear up the misinformation I ask you for your help. No longer will you be haunted by these myths about your greatness.”

"Hmm. Your people know of me. There's no need to correct, let the mortals think what they will of me. I may make a visit sometime myself, to let them decide on their own."


---

Bramble Bushlands

Chern walked and walked, the trees gradually thinning into scrub-lands around him, until the land became dry and its inhabitants more sparse. As he walked, he began to catch up to another lone traveller. This one was youthful but not young, carrying a hide pack that seemed to almost be overflowing with belongings. She propped herself up under the massive bulk of her luggage using a sturdy crutch. When Chern drew level with her she turned towards him, her face rosy cheeked and shining with perspiration.

"Hey, traveller!" she called out to Chern, beaming. "Care to slow down? Walk for a while with a lame-footed missionary?"

Chern looked at her mournfully, glancing down at her foot. It was indeed impaired, as though it had been mangled long ago and had never truly healed. It gave the woman a limping gait. Chern slowed his already ambling pace, walking beside the woman along the bare dirt track.

"Thanks!" she panted, somehow smiling even wider. "I'm Mila. What's your name?"

"I'm Che- Uh, Cherrrr-lie. Cherlie."

"Cherlie, great to meet you Cherlie! Haven't seen that many people on this road, you're the first for what must be a good dozen leagues now. It's good in a way, no people means no trouble, but one gets lonely on the road. Where you heading Cherlie?"

"Away from the Boa Jungle."

"Ah. I knew you were from that way. I recognise the mask, it's one of the ones those Starfolk wear. I thought they were meant for the dead?"

"Hmm. You are right, Mila. But a mask's a mask, anyone can wear one whether they're dead or not. Don't you agree?"

"Hmm. I suppose so. Could be disrespectful though. Is that why you're leaving in such a hurry? Eh? You get chased out by the pygmies for sacrilege?"

Chern chuckled under his breath.

"You know a great deal about it. Why are you travelling, if I may ask?"

"Missionary work," Mila explained cheerfully, "I'm on the Path, as lain by Kahar-Djin. I set out from Kanto on my mission, five years ago. Travelled all along the north coast, all the way to Boa. Now I'm heading back home along this overland track that some Yith fellows told me about. Through the savannas."

"Hmm. I see. Good luck to you."

"You may walk with me as long as you wish. I appreciate the conversation, and of course it's safer to travel in numbers. You may partake in my some of my supplies too, if you wish Cherlie. You seem to not have much yourself."

"That's very kind of you, Mila. I can look after myself, but I too appreciate the conversation and safety in numbers. I would be glad to walk with you."

That night, as the disabled mortal and the incognito god sat around a camp fire, Chern sensed another action of the gods. Mila's own Kahar-Djin, creating another colossal ripple through reality, though with more order than the scream from last age.


"However, I implore for your aid. Not just to ensure this new law of reality comes to pass, but for a much deeper reason. Divine as I am, mine is only one outlook, one experience of divinity. In my four Paths, I have tried to contain a wide variety of outlooks, beliefs and philosophies, but I fear that, while I have included four, I must have excluded many more. So I ask, indeed, I beg of you, to create more of these Paths of Divinity, so all views on divinity might be represented, so that every mortal may find something to aspire to within them."

Chern felt himself growing indignant, much as he had the last age when Su'ule created her sorcery. Magic was just another means for mortals to put down each other. It wasn't fair.

Then again... What did he know?

"Mila," Chern said abruptly, startling the woman from her hardtack, "what do you wish for most of all in the world?"

"Oh, that's easy," said Mila through a mouthful, "travel more. I want to spread the word of Kahar-Djin as far and wide as I can."

"Why are you going home then?"

Mila almost dropped her smile for the first time that day.

"Don't poke fun, Cherlie. It's obvious why."

"Your foot?"

"I'm no good as a missionary anymore. I used to be. When we first set out I was the fastest runners in my mission, faster than all the boys even. Then I tread on this little pointed stick, didn't even see it in the grass. No water school healers around, my foot starts to fester. Now, well, you're all skin and bones and even you have to slow down for me."

Mila prodded one of the crackling logs with her crutch sourly.

"Truth be told, I don't even expect to make it as far as Kanto. Our paths are bound to split at some point. After that, jackals're going to sniff me out sooner or later. Then what?"

Chern didn't say anything, glaring at the fire from deep within his masked sockets.

"Yeah. So there's your answer, old man. I wish I could keep travelling, despite this damned foot."

Wood turned to ash, turned to smoke, scattered to the wind, fertilised the soil to make the wood to turn to more ash. Chern continued to stare wordlessly into the dying flames, until Mila announced that she was going to retire to her bedroll.

"You're a good mission, Mila," he said as the woman was rising to her feet. "You may not think so, but you've done a lot more than most ever get to."

"Huh, I don't know about that Cherlie," she guffawed, "but thanks."

Help Kahar-Djin create his Paths of Divinity

+4 Decay, to create a Path focussed on the degeneration of the body.

One who travels this Path has been brought low by the cruelties of life, and has from their hardship discovered that the true nature of divinity lies in a god's detachment from the limitations of the mortal form. Though all things must die and decay, the potentiality of a mortal can never truly fade so long as a soul remains to drive them. Therefore the practitioners of the Path of Squalor seek to hold themselves together through sheer force of will and mortal tenacity.

Threshold Zero: the requirement to attain this threshold is simple; the mortal must be in some way permanently diseased or disabled. Cripples, lepers, the blind, the malnourished, the unsound of mind, and many others who suffer are eligible for the Path of Squalor.

First Threshold: at this point the traveller has learned to overcome their ailment through sensible self-medication and a disciplined lifestyle, to the point where they can lead a normal life. The crippled learn to move unimpeded with the tools at their disposal, the lepers keep themselves bandaged and clean, the blind hone their other senses, and so on. This kind of self sufficiency is an achievement worthy of its own threshold, and indeed many will cease travelling the path here now that their ailment has been overcome. However, there is more for those who seek it.

Second Threshold: those who have adapted to the limitations of their body, but regardless continue to pursue the path, begin to develop robustness against further ailments. Poisons, diseases, injuries, and sustained poverty no longer harm the traveller. They can eat anything and live anywhere, without suffering as they once would have. This threshold cannot be attained through a sensible lifestyle alone, one must seek out ailments and apply them in small doses to increase resilience. Activities like flagellation, fasting, and the limited consumption of poisonous or diseased substances are all necessary to reach this threshold.

Third Threshold: this threshold comes fairly quickly and naturally after the second threshold; now, instead of merely being able to live with suffering, the traveller thrives in it. The poisoned grow stronger, the diseased fitter, the addled more focussed. At this threshold one gains the ability to perform a blood sacrifice, spilling their own blood to become temporarily superhuman.

Fourth Threshold: a sacrifice is required to reach this threshold. The traveller must intentionally inflict another permanent ailment upon themselves, something that even their supernatural robustness won't help them to recover from. This time, however, their damage is compensated for by a spiritual replacement. Someone missing a hand gains the use of a single spectral hand to move things telekinetically, someone blinded gains an uncanny sight that surpasses normal vision, missing a leg might grant the ability to levitate, and so on. Further sacrifices can be made for the same effect.

Final Threshold: the traveller has now sacrificed so much that a normal mortal would be as good as dead. But this traveller is no mere mortal any more. The traveller may now forgo their mortal body entirely, projecting a wholly spiritual manifestation of themselves that has all their sacrificed abilities while being immune to the effects of the physical world. Once their physical body finally dies, the transcended soul is then free to do as it wills, exempt from the cycle of reincarnation similarly to the other paths (not sure if these guys would be on the council too, I'll let Kahar-Djin decide that).

Chern will leave a scroll of the Path of Squalor with Mila, who should already be well on the way to the first threshold.


---

Toran Savannas

Chern was still travelling with the woman Mila, plodding together through the rippling desert heat as an unlikely duo, when the words of Verys' prophesy resounded in his head. He stopped, Mila failing to notice for a good thirty seconds as she continued to walk and talk.

"And they say, you know, that they're full of these tiny little people, like the Starfolk I suppose, but really vicious like, not nice folk at all. They apparently got this crown that they give to anyone who comes to their island, but it's cursed, so when they put it on all their friends start murdering them out of jealousy. I don't believe a word of it of course, sounds- hey, you right?"

"You ever heard a prophesy before, Mila?"

"Oh yeah. A couple. Usually I try to remain skeptical."

"They usually rhyme, right?"

"Oh yeah, prophesy's got to rhyme."

"Hmm. Yeah, I agree."

Chern caught up to Mila, and the pair of them continued.

"Getting a little low on water."

"Hmm."


---

No Name Dunes

At the epicentre of the Three Deserts, where no mortals ever venture with the intent of returning, Chern and Mila found themselves staggering in pursuit of the sun. The sand lay unstable before them, sliding out from beneath their feet with every step. Mila in particular panted hoarsely, her crutch wobbling.

"Wait, Cherlie," she gasped, "just wait, gimme a minute..."

Mila fell to her knee, and under the weight of her huge pack immediately keeled to the side, tumbling down the side of the dune they'd been traversing. Chern watched her go through through eye-holes weeping with sweat. The god considered for a moment, then seemed to decide that he might as well try dying of exposure as well, and immediately crumpled to the ground. His limp body rolled after her's, passing by a collection of hardtack and empty water skins that had spilled out behind the missionary, until it finally coming to rest beside her at the bottom of a vast sandy basin.

There was silence. Chern was beginning to wonder whether Mila had died outright when she suddenly spat out a dry wad of sand.

"You shouldn't have followed me you stupid old man," she whispered.

"You shouldn't have walked into this stupid desert," Chern croaked back.

Mila didn't even have the strength to laugh. She noticed that Chern had stopped breathing at around noon, when the sun was at its highest and most scorching. Shortly afterwards a vulture landed beside him, its bald head deathly white, and its eyes luminous yellow.

"No..." Mila grunted, as the vulture began to hungrily tear strips of meat from her travelling partner. "Leave... Him... Alone..."

She shoved her crutch at the bird, but it didn't budge. The vulture was picking between the masked man's ribs when she finally summoned the strength to turn her head the other way. She lost consciousness moments later.

Influence a village sized area (6 AP/3 DC)

+4 Decay, as he is using his own decaying corpse to fuel the action.

Chern will create the No Name Oasis in the middle of the Three Deserts, by sending an accelerated vein of glowloam from his own corpse down to the ground water, causing a permanent spring and glowloam cavern to appear in the basin. He will do this quickly enough to provide Mila with water and spare her from death.

The vulture flew away, leaving the half eaten corpse of Chern to rot beside the missionary. As he did, he felt the final ripple of a divine action being carried through the desert. Vulture Chern turned his beady eyes to the south, intrigued.

"Caw," he said.

Hinder Alatadriel from exploring the Three Deserts

-1 Fermentation

Chern will make the armies of the Sinalese and Orcs drink copiously over the course of their march, inducing drunken and disorderly behaviour, and reducing the army's overall effectiveness.

[gac3]

“Hello, Mischief Maker.” Ymon said, waving enthusiastically. “We heard you like chaos. Wanna help make a world where everything is kinda chaotic?”
Thal held out his hand, floating above it was a miniature version of the plane they envisioned, changing by the moment and with little sparks representing mortal souls. “Not to mention a place for all the warriors to go, to rest between your wars. They deserve as much, do they not?”


Timorin smiles. "I like this. Yes. I can work with this. I shall bring you aid."

Timorin and his Shadows of Hope descend into the underworld. There Timorin shapes a portion of the world into a grand collosseum around them. "This my children is where you shall serve me. Go out among the dead and bring forth champions to delight and entertain. Bring some emotion back to this void. Remind them all what it's like to be alive."

The spirits go forth and find those with the most fire and hope and passion in their lives. Perhaps those who have revenge to seek back among the living. Perhaps those who have great ambition. Timorin wouldn't know who would step forward to take the challenge, but those who did would be gambling everything on it.

He then turns to Ymon-Thal, "You and those who shape this place may have a hand in shaping my children. They seek no harm, only passion."


Unchecked, the Reincarnation system functions on a first come first serve basis. Those who died first would be the first reincarnated. To mix things up, Timorin has added the Challenge of Life. Those who wish may challenge his Shadows of Hope to a duel. This may take any form the Challenger wishes, from single combat, to a game of capture the flag (in which such games, they may recruit teams as per rules set down in the individual challenges), singing, dancing, poetry, sculpting, games of chance, games of skill, etc. These challenges will be performed in the Collosseum for the entertainment of the dead. Victory: You jump to the front of the queue for reincarnation. Failure: You are pushed to the back.

It should be noted the Shadows are not inherently better at any of these challenges. Some may develop incredible skill over time however as they may be continually challenged to the same contest.

+2 Drama
+2 War for events like challenges in tactics where they each recruit armies and basically have a giant larp
+1 Games (this is also my justification for the +1 games on the Shadows themselves. Please let me know if unexceptable.)
-2 Fear Between the Shadows and the innate fear of death, I figure this would apply

Also, opening up the Shadows for anyone who helps with the underworld.




Graw then messages the other gods, “to benefit your people and to clear up the misinformation I ask you for your help. No longer will you be haunted by these myths about your greatness.”


"Are you trying to say that I am not great, friend? Have we not worked together so well in the past? Nevertheless I shall aid your people. They shall always be trusted and truthfull." Timorin gives a mischievous smile. "This makes two you owe me."

Timorin has made it impossible for the race to lie. If possible, he would like there to be a natural sense of being able to confide your secrets in them. Nothing compulsory, just a sense you can trust them. If that's too much for non magical species, then ignore the second half.


+2 Drama: Timorin knows that the truth is the best policy and inherently causes no drama. However the dinosaur people can be lied to and therefore can spread misinformation. There is also the fact that secrets, if shared with them, may end up no longer secrets. The truth is only dangerous when surrounded by lies.

[AlexanderML]

"Great Yir", Thal said, nodding his head in a not-quite-a-bow. "As I am sure you have sensed already, we are creating a place for souls to rest between lives and have come to request your help. Surely the sun should shine over the dead as well?"


The glorious sun looked down at the half of a godling, contemplating for a moment before speaking.

"I shall help you in this labor's task, but the price for my help shall be your aid in return. MY light shall have form below soon, and I shall have your other half shall grant it life, and by your power shall it not be condemned to death; indeed it shall wield it instead. Prove yourself above the likes of the vile wyrm and help bring something good into the world."

Upon the top of the stonethroe mountains appeared a light invisible, able to be seen only by the dead; and by it's guiding light the dead would find their way to the Passing. In the world of the dead, the glory of the sun appeared in it's sky, granting the land below the blessing of it's light.

+2 Stonethroe Mountians and +2 Sun to help in the creation of the Passing.
The top of the Stonethroe Mountains act as a place where those dead trapped in the world of the living for whatever reason may find their way to the Passing. In the Passing itself, the sun appears in the sky granting the land below it's blessing to exist, and give a slight reminder of the world of the living.



“To benefit your people and to clear up the misinformation I ask you for your help. No longer will you be haunted by these myths about your greatness.”

The sun looked over the remnants of a previous time being brought back anew, scoffing to itself that this godling never learns, but it's persistence in such matters did have a childish charm to them.

"I shall help in the creation of the life you seek, they shall have MY light in their blood and shall forevermore have a piece of my MAJESTY in their souls. I expect that you shall reciprocate this aid, for I shall soon bring my light down upon this world and give it life; I expect that YOU will bless it with your own power when it appears, it's mind must be sharp and know how to plunge into the depths of the world."

+2 Sun +2 Majesty
Yir blesses Grawissen's creations with what life it can grant them, but this creates a few quirks.

The Ceratopsians would be cold blooded, reliant on the sun to give them heat while traveling (fire works well enough while encamped). They are however blessed with a sense of majesty that can be felt around them, making it so those who are not Ceratopsians have stronger reactions to them (whether for good or ill).



Kahar-Djin, The Cosmos, 50/50 AP

The planets had aligned once again. Kahar-Djin once more walked the Path they formed down to the mortal world. They weren't the first to return, it seemed. Or maybe they had been the only one to leave? They hadn't truly paid attention, immersed as they were in their grand creation. The divinity stood above the world, andunrolled a scroll that seemed to stretch into infinity. He then raised his staff, and created paths for sound to travel between all the gods, so they could all hear each other. Then, they spoke,

"My fellow divinities, I have come from my long trip in the cosmos with an announcement to make. I have spent these centuries creating an instricate system of Paths and philosophies of life, imbued with my own essence, to allow all mortals the possibility to obtain a sliver of our own divine power. I shall now read to you an overview of my work. Of course, you need not listen. Your divine domains will certainly be able to percieve the changes I bring. So, with that said, the new law I have crafted is as such:"



"However, I implore for your aid. Not just to ensure this new law of reality comes to pass, but for a much deeper reason. Divine as I am, mine is only one outlook, one experience of divinity. In my four Paths, I have tried to contain a wide variety of outlooks, beliefs and philosophies, but I fear that, while I have included four, I must have excluded many more. So I ask, indeed, I beg of you, to create more of these Paths of Divinity, so all views on divinity might be represented, so that every mortal may find something to aspire to within them."

With that said, Kahar-Djin didn't just wait for responses. They had four more scrolls, meant for the mortals, one for each of their Paths. They had to find suitable places for them. Fortunately, their believers had followed their blessing, and spread throughout the continent. This would not be a difficult task.



The godling shone with the bright light of day as Yir gazed upon it, thinking on the law that it wished to introduce with some interest, but mostly looking down at the Paths the god presented.

"You clearly need my help, for each of your Paths are pathetic and short-sighted. For only in perfection can one be truly close to divine! In return for my generous aid, I shall expect the same given to me. My light shall soon descend upon the world, and I expect you to help it succeed on the path of its life and exceed any thresholds that are presented against it's desires."

+2 Majesty +1 Perfection

Those who travel this Path believe that the true power of divinity lies in a god’s perfect natures, so immutable that the world cannot affect them and instead shifts to their will. To come close to the divine in their true eternal perfection is impossible, but to achieve a small sliver of it on this world is possible through constant judgement of one's self and those around them and perfection in as many things as possible. Those that walk this path may use magic, seeing it as any other talent to be perfected, but may never walk another Path again after starting to walk this one (for all other Paths are imperfect and flawed), even attempting to walk along this path strips those immortal masters of other paths of their talents in what they had learned; however, gods may walk along the path of perfection as well as other paths as normal for them (though it does them little good).

Threshold Zero: Those that would walk the path of perfection must believe that they need to be perfect, must be perfect, that the flaws of the world can be used against itself, and must have some talent that they are currently perfecting. Singing, swordsmanship, dancing, music script writing, anything that can be perfected qualifies. Other than this there are no requirements.

First Threshold: The perfectionist at this stage is able to see the flaws of those around them and in themselves, only a demi-god or full god being too naturally perfect to be the target of their cynical eyes. As long as the perfectionist has some degree of skill in any broad field (music, combat, magic, paths, ect), they may exploit the flaws of others around them with a simple glare to make them fail in any attempt (voices cracks, swords miss, spells fizzle to no effect, ect); however, a large enough gap in skill can make it more difficult for the perfectionist to disrupt (using paths as an example, anyone of the third threshold would probably be too skilled for a perfectionist of the first to disrupt).

Perfectionist of this threshold also show skill in many mundane or magical fields (though not whole schools of magic), never faltering in knowing what they need to do to obtain more skill in whatever field of their choice.

Second Threshold: Those perfectionists of the second threshold have truly looked upon their bodies and have perfected their physical forms. They've reach the height of normal physical strength and speed their bodies can produce, gone beyond that and have over time improved their own physical features to be the height of what they consider perfectly handsome/beautiful. The perfectionist's body is so perfect that the world refuses to let it be harmed by anyone. Those wishing to harm the perfectionist find it hard, even past their glare, for a shining light appears at the last second protecting them from any attack that targets them (attacks not targeting them are far more effective). Disease, scars, and permanent injuries are outright impossible to inflict upon a living perfectionist unless the person doing so is at the height of mortal power (masters of a school of Su sorcery, masters of a path) or are a divine.

Those that would try to manipulate the exceedingly large egos of the perfectionist of this stage find it impossible unless they are a divine being or complete master of all the schools of Su sorcery.

Third Threshold: The perfectionists of the third threshold have set exceedingly high standards for themselves and have yet to give up or lower these standards for years. Most show a high degree of skill in many skills or fields of knowledge, but that is not an actual requirement, only the move towards perfection for years is.

At this stage the world in awe actively starts to suit the perfectionist's needs, letting the perfectionist manipulate the external qualities of the world and the minds of people around them. Matter near the perfectionist may have it's outer properties changed at will (an example might be making an apple glow or light on fire), and people have their opinions subtly shift towards the perfectionist's far more easily and quickly that could otherwise be accomplished.

To reach the next threshold the perfectionist must proclaim that they are a master in multiple skills or fields of study (at least three). Anyone else that would be a master in any of the same fields must be confronted by the perfectionist and proven inferior for at least a year before they properly obtain the abilities of the fourth threshold. While being proven inferior at any particular moment does not strip the perfectionist of their power, not focusing on reaching a state where they are superior will strip the perfectionist of their power; it does however hinder the progression of their path (they cannot reach the fourth threshold until they are superior in what they proclaimed mastery in). The only ones that a perfectionist may allow to be superior to them in any particular field they have proclaimed mastery in are immortals, fifth ranked perfectionists, demi-gods, and gods.

Fourth Threshold: Perfectionists that have reached the fourth threshold have become something greater than most mortals, something close to the divine. Something so perfect no longer needs to worry about wounds, the glowing (literally glowing) ego of the perfectionist absolutely refuses to let anything harm them, and even if something manages to harm them, they can recover from that damage in an instant. Their actions are completely under their control, perfectly coordinated no matter the situation.

While the other thresholds were obtained through the improvement of the self, only through teaching at least three others to be masters of what they study while remaining superior can a perfectionist move to the fifth threshold. Many perfectionist cannot bring themselves to teach others in fear of teaching someone that may be superior to them at something, but those with true confidence, wisdom, and skill will persevere.

Fifth Threshold: These semi-divine beings have perfected the mastery of their own egos, no longer needing to prove themselves to others and actually lose the glow of their ego (though the damage negating effect remains). Perfectionists of this level have such control over their surroundings that it is like they are tiny gods playing in sand, the laws of reality simply being what they wish it to be; however this only applies to the immediate area of the master perfectionist and any changes they make fade in short time (immediately disappearing if they die). Masters of a school of sorcery, masters of a path, immortals, and divine beings cannot be directly affected by this. Perfectionists of this threshold are only affected by age if they wish it, and their souls disappear when they die (to Yir they say).

The Sahgori giants are already perfectionists at heart, so Yir does not need to teach them, they just slowly learn that they gain actual power from their unhealthy view of the world.

[Maryring]

Sanctuary has drifted close to an unknown island, and while Sanctuary itself is well protected, Petr still feels compelled to walk the island, observe it, and learn who is here. It doesn't take long before Petr finds the crown that seeds chaos upon the island, as well as many shallow graves of those foolish enough to wear the crown. Not a pleasant fate indeed. One would have to wonder it's effects upon the people of Sanctuary, who are trained in magic, and in the ways of resisting it. Recently the waymaker revealed a massive plan to grant mortals more power still, they'll have to do something about that, but for now, there is one last stop to make upon this island.

"So. Timorin. Trickster and chaosmonger. You've got quite the interesting, and cruel, setup here. In the horizon, your cult will soon get a clear view of Sanctuary Island. On the night of the full moon, the island will light up in spectacular displays. Your cult is yours, and I will not interfere with them, but you may wish to inform them yourself that this is a celebration, not an intimidation. I shall see you around."

---

In the city of Theshana, a single elderly woman appears. Unnoticed in her plainness, she walks towards the centre of the city, to an open place where wells provide the city with the precious water it needs to survive. Unseen by anyone she slams her walking stick into the ground where it remains standing. Then she walks away, as slowly, surely, water starts to flow from the ground, as a new, bottomless spring of fresh, curative water springs forth to help the people of the city.

"Your quest to preserve a people's way of life and freedom is one I can enjoy. Please accept this token of assistance from me, to help ensure your dream remain reality. In a few nights, when the moon is full and shines upon Sanctuary, I shall reveal myself to mortalkind. In the same moment, the spring will reach full force." With those words for Nestellbam, Petr returns to prepare their reveal to the world.

Assisting with Nestellbam's prophecy, Petra creates a spring with the waters of life that flows freely from the city. The water is cool, refreshing, and purged of disease and sickness. It will not heal wounds supernaturally fast, but it will help with recovery and will run for as long as the city remembers to take care of it's weakest members.

+2 Water and +2 Healing.

[Batcathat]

Ymon-Thal, 50/50 AP, Boa Jungle

“To benefit your people and to clear up the misinformation I ask you for your help. No longer will you be haunted by these myths about your greatness.”

Thal waved his hand dismissively. "Let the mortals think as they wish in life. They will learn the truth soon enough."

"Aww, I don't want to be evil Chern's evil servant."

"We are not, nor are we Grawissen's."

Ymon pouted. "I'm still gonna help make his weird, pointy people."


Ymon-Thal aids in the creation of the Ceratopsians with + 2 Life. *



***

Moments after being mentioned, Thal appeared next to his other self in front of Petr. "If you wish to free some souls from their... previous misdeeds we will not oppose it."

"We can help you too, it'll be fun!"

"Yes", Thal said. "Fun."


Ymon-Thal aids Petr in sanctifying Sanctuary Island, tying it a little closer to the land before Life (+2) and after Death (+2), basically making Sanctuary a little closer to the Passing in a metaphorical sense. I'll leave it up to interpretation what this means.
Should the creation of the Passing somehow fail, just count this as a general help.



***

Ymon-Thal watched Timorin's half-formed Shadows flow into the still unstable Passing. "Ooh, they seem like fun, don't they?"

"Is there literally nothing you do not find 'fun'?"


Ymon-Thal aids Timorin in giving life (+2) to the Shadow Walkers.



***

Compromises, compromises. Ymon-Thal could feel the power of several deities join his own in shaping the void into a world, while adding ideas of their own. Still, it certainly added some interesting... features to the Passing.

"And great flair!" Ymon said. "Can't forget about that flair!"

"Yes", Thal responded dryly. "Who could imagine an afterlife without...flair?"

Ymon was about to reply as they sensed reality wobbling slightly, accompanied by a message.

"So I ask, indeed, I beg of you, to create more of these Paths of Divinity, so all views on divinity might be represented, so that every mortal may find something to aspire to within them", Kahar-Djin finished.

Ymon-Thal pondered the question for a minute or two, both aspects flying in silence.

"It would..." Ymon, as always, was the first to break the silence.

"Yes."

"So, should we...?"

They did. Just like with Petr's island the Twin God tied the Passing a little closer to the physical world, though to specific mortals rather than a place. It would almost certainly kill some of them, of course. But then again, life usually did that anyway.


Ymon-Thal helps Kahar-Djin create the Paths of Divinity, adding the Path of the Soul that blurs the line between life (+2) and death (+2).


Those who travel this Path have understood that life and death are not opposites and that a soul is the same whether living or dead.

Threshold Zero: In order to embark on the Path of the Soul the traveler must have a near-death experience — close enough to almost enter the Passing — in order to fully realize how small a change death truly is. Most travelers experience this and then decide the follow the Path but there are those who intentionally try to achieve it. Few survive.
While it is technically possible to walk the Path for an entirely new soul, in reality it's near impossible since they lack the memories of previous lives to guide them.

First Threshold: As someone reaches the First Threshold the barriers separating their souls' different lives begin to weaken. The traveler usually start having dreams and flashbacks about any previous lives and time spent in the Passing. At first, they are more symbolic than literal and by focusing on these half-memories during mediation a traveler is able to interpret them better and better.

Second Threshold: By the time a traveler reaches the Second Threshold their ability to interpret memories of the past is almost perfected and the memories have become much clearer and less symbolic. The dreams and visions come more and more often, though the traveler still lacks control over what is shown.

Third Threshold: A traveler passed the Third Threshold interprets their memories of past lives as easily as those of their current life and by meditating they are able to search their past lives for answers to specific questions.

Fourth Threshold: Travelers who have reached the Fourth Threshold remember all of their lives with perfect clarity. They are also able to leave their mortal bodies through deep meditation and briefly glimpse into the Passing and speak to its inhabitants. With practice, it is possible to reach specific souls.

Final Threshold: In addition to remembering all of their earlier lives travelers at the end of the Path can recall and use any skill they possessed in a earlier life, including physical skills and even sorcery.
Those who reach the Final Threshold can also travel freely between the world of the living and the world of the dead, though they leave their body behind if they enter the Passing and if left for too long it may die. If that happens the traveling soul is left to roam the world and the Passing, neither dead nor alive. Such a traveler can speak to both living and dead but never physically influence either world.

[Maryring]

When invited to listen, Petr appears. They sit and observe quietly to Kahar-Djin's plans for the future, and for his paths. Once the presentation is over, Petr leaves without a word. They travel across the globe, silently observing the many cultures and people. So many are different. The welcoming and peaceful Sanctuary people compared to the violent pygmies just a stonethrow away. And yet so many are same. Though on opposite sides of the globe, the followers of the Fox and of the Sun both wage campaigns of conquest and greed. Differences and similarities both. With actions that ripple out into eternity. This is what inspires Petr, and they return to Kahar-Djin with a scroll in hand. "Here. My assistance for your paths and your plans. May the divine wisdom bear fruit amongst mortals."

Petr is using their Water Domain to create the path of reflection.


The world is like water. Ever changing, ever flowing from something to the next. Followers of the path of reflection believes that the world and the divine are the ripples upon a surface of a pond. Expanding ever outwards, changing as the ripples meet, and ultimately, by reflecting upon all the changes, one can trace everything back to the true source of all things. Travelling the path requires tasks of mental, physical and emotional discipline. It requires a sacrifice of the self as an immutable constant, and instead requires one to view themselves as an extension of a whole, and a mirror reflecting life.

Threshold Zero: To begin walking the path, the disciple must embrace the philosophy of a hated person. The most grave of social sins. Reflecting the truth as accurately as possible. They must embrace honesty and never knowingly tell a lie. They must elaborate on matters as well as they can, and do their utmost to ensure their intentions are genuinely understood. No lies by omission, or by vague wording. They are not required to answer fully. They may still refuse to answer a statement. But they may not put their own well-being ahead of the truth.



Threshold One: Those who have embraced the costs of honesty, who understands the difference between what is good and what is pleasant, and who is willing to continue the path regardless of these costs, will now find that their devotion is being rewarded. They can pick up the faults in written words. They catch the inconsistencies between that which is spoken, and that which is done. They can't be lied to, not even unintentionally. They always know when someone is hiding something from them. Their flexibility against the harsh lessons of truth have also given them new insights into the Su'Sorcery of Water. While words may never hurt them, sticks and stones may still do harm. Water will help divert those blows.

To continue the path, one must travel the world, see other cultures and gain an understanding of them. This requires spending at least five years among cultures not ones own.



Threshold Two: After spending years experiencing different cultures, the path of reflection teaches one to not just understand, but reflect those cultures. A traveller can act in ways that make them undistinguishable from any culture they've lived among for more than a year. They also become skilled at impersonating others, reflecting their mannerisms, speechpatterns and quirks. The world around them also begins to slightly, subtly, reflect upon them. If they are sad, those around them feel sadder, and if they are happy, those around them seem happier.

Their Su'Sorcery is also strengthened, now allowing the water to reflect force visited upon them.

To reach the third Threshold, they must create a ripple, some kind of action that extends outwards effecting the world around them, and then follow at least one of it's consequences for five years.



Threshold Three: After watching how one action has consequences that ripple eternally through the world, it becomes possible to much more reliably ensure the future one wants. The right word in the right place can stop armies in their tracks, topple empires, and avert wars before they even begin. And at the third threshold, those who follow the path of reflection have become really good at knowing what those words are. By telling the right truth to the right person, they can create a chain of consequences that eventually lead to their predicted, desired future. Divine intervention, as well as cataclysmic events that drastically shake up the status quo of the world can throw this chain out of alignment.

Their Su'Sorcery can now perfectly reflect what's done to them back to the world around. If they are healed, they may let those around them be healed too. If they are hurt, all their enemies are hurt the same way.

To reach the fourth Threshold, they must revolutionize the world. Something they do must change the majority of the world in some drastic way.



Threshold Four: The world is a puppet, and the walker of reflection is the puppetmaster who controls all things mundane. They weave plans within plans to forge a future of their own choosing. They understand how all that is mundane work together in an intricate system. Their understanding of the laws of reality means that their plans can only be thrown off course by the direct intervention of a God or someone with even greater powers of reflection in the world. And as the world starts to reflect their desires, weak souls near them start to reflect their souls more fully. Just by their sheer presence does the walker of reflection inspire empathy, compassion, and understanding of others.

Even a walker who has only minimal experience with Su'Sorcery can be considered a Master of the School of Water. Water is a mirror which reflects the pure soul of the Reflection walker.

To reach the fifth Threshold, they must complete the cycle and return home where they first began the path of Reflection. There they must locate their old home, their old social bonds and culture, and what might at one point have been their life, and they must meditate on how the journey has changed them, on who they are, and on who they could have been.


Threshold Five: At the fifth and final Threshold, the barrier between self and the not-self break. Like water, the walker of reflections flows to fill the cracks in society, perfectly able to adept to any and every role that they need to fulfill. They become a rarefied mirror that reflects those around them. They can perfectly mimic any non-divine action. They can perfectly emulate the look and build of any person. And without practice, if they see someone do something once, they will be able to do the same thing.

[Godzillarich]

Graw continue to work on his creations as the power of the other gods helped him. "It’s coming along just great... Soon the knowledge of the world be... united... just then he heard the call of the other gods asking for his assistance. Graw breathed a sigh " it is only... Fair..."

Petr called out for assistance on this island project they had in mind. ”simple enough… But I may have some trouble… With this unknown place...
Petr: Sanctify an area for +2 Moon
+2 mining: the island will have rich minerals there will be a pleasure for most to find them

+2 knowledge: the place will be a treasure trove of untapped knowledge, so much stuff only found on the islands.

+2 architecture (pickax): in the center of the island there will be a castle where all are welcome.

+1 writing: many forms of ancient literature can be found on the island

-2 unknown: the island is difficult to find by mortals and even gods


A smiled than came to Graw face "Ah...Kahar-Djin… I am more than happy to help.
Kahar-Djin: Create a law of reality: The Paths of Divinity
The Path of knowledge:
+2 knowledge
Those who decide to walk this path understand the importance of preserving the knowledge. A dedication to study, documentation, and discovery of the beauties of all things that have exist, what’s happening right now and possible futures.

This path does not discourage studying of Su magic or the other paths because they too are also knowledge.

Threshold Zero: The curiosity of basic study, an understanding of civilizations, and a desire to fill in the blanks of lost knowledge.

First Threshold: This is reached when you start to dedicate your life to discovering the mysteries of the world. This makes you more knowledgeable of mistakes from learning from them.

Second Threshold: this is reached when you start to understand much of other civilizations besides your own. This often gives you advantages when talking to other people from other civilizations. Giving you knowledge of how they tick.

Third threshold: this is when you start to hone your knowledge even more and start to achieve new knowledge.

Forth threshold: we start to have a full knowledge of not only today’s life but the entire history of the planet. This helps you give you full knowledge of how nature works, the disasters of the past and how they can be prevented in the future.

Final threshold: you have become a wise Sage. All come to you for your wisdom. You understand more than even the gods about the world. History refuses to take you as you allowed to live for as long as you seek new knowledge.


Next was the prophecy from Nestellbam. The decision came easy to him ”YES!... This prophecy will come to fruition… A story will not be forgotten...’
Nestellbam: Announce a Prophesy
+2 mining: as long as this prophecy is upheld the materials the land shall never run out.

+2 knowledge: much knowledge will be stored here because of the protection the prophecy gives to the city.

+2 architecture( pickax): the city will bring some of the greatest architecture in the world, with people all around the world just to see it.

+1 knowledge: the city will have a massive library filled to the brim with books of all different languages.


Next was the shadow walkers. Graw set and pondered this. ”these creatures will… bring no good… But I have a debt to pay… I will help but I will also give them a way to fight back.”
Make the Shadow Walkers.
+2 Knowledge: looking deeper in the shadow Walkers will help people understand them better, wore them off or maybe even control them.


Lastly was his friend Alatadriel. He contemplated in silence, conflicted by this choice. ”empires grow… Little guys disappear… he thought long and hard about his choice for coming to a conclusion. ”know this...you will not trample over these people…” Graw then turned his head towards a window overlooking the city. The flags of the mighty flag of Alatadriel hung about. ”I wonder if we are in the same situation.”

Alatadriel: Influence a Country Sized Area
+2 Mining: they will also grow in the skill of mining, able to make use of the underground materials of the earth.

+2 knowledge: the Empire will quickly be knowledgeable of other parts of the empire, and the smaller tribes that are exorbitant into the Empire, their cultures will not be forgotten and will be cherished by all within the Empire.

+2 Architecture: the Empire will have a knack for being able to build beautiful structures on the Sandy environment that will offer protection.

+1 writing: many will be quick to adapt to the writing of this new empire.

Graw then proceeded on to continue his work...


(just random tidbits I want to add about them)

Exorbitant into a culture: They quickly adopt the cultures and customs of places if they staying in too long. This is one of the reasons they travel, getting too attached to one place will stop them in their mission. However, those who decide to stay in one area will also physically change. For example, ones that stay with the Yir will increase in size over generations. Those who stay with Chern pygmy will show their bodies as the signs of embracing death, Su'ule Neanderthal people will make them more monstrous and hanging out with Alatadriel humans will make them love Fox’s a lot. Those who decide to stay in areas will still give the opportunity for their kids to travel the world as well however the kids will still carry the mark of their parent’s features. As such defendants of ethnicities of Ceratopsians.

Best Traders in the world: because of their inability to lie they will become some of the most reliable people when it comes to trade. Not having a Ceratopsians in a trade deal will usually raise a few eyebrows as such they have some prestige.

Talking about nothing: Ceratopsians are infamous for spending hours upon hours talking about literally nothing, there also can be quite smart asses and because they cannot lie they have a tendency to insult people a lot.

[Demonjazz]

Grawissen:
“Ah, Grawissen, my oldest and dearest friend. You know it was seven hundred years ago on this day that you promised me a favor in return for help with that beloved pickaxe of yours.I’m glad to see you repay this favor today.”
Alatadriel thought a moment before adding. “Also, do remove Petr’s epitaph. The Orcs worship me as justly as any other of my followers.”

On the way out, Alatadriel looks to Grawissen’s creation. “Erasing an epitaph is not a equal demand. Especially ones yourself are in control of. That must mean you want to give me some control of your project than.”
+2 to Foxes as foxes instinctively hate the creature and will make it known to any creature they feel safe with.
+2 to Fire as the flames flicker among the ceratopsians as they are being birthed into this world. It molds their form, having them stand on two legs, and mold their faces into a more appealing form, their muscles bulge as their hands shrink as they appear more and more not like a real dinosaur, but a velociraptor from Jurassic Park.
This new body gives them an unnatural blood lust that they must battle to overcome.
-2 Arrogance for being a petty insult.
“Triceratops are rather stupid-looking creatures, your welcome. Blackmailer.” Her words were coated with venom as she turned her back on Grawissen. “I can’t stand those who would allow mistruths to spread for their own reward. Don’t you?” She let out an exaggerated sigh as she left “When will they ever learn?”

Ymon-Thal:
Alatadriel was bathing when Ymon approached her. Her face was unfazed, but it was obvious from the way her ears twitched that she was bothered by the way the god addressed her. “No, my titles are the exact amount that is needed, Ymon.” She carefully wipes down her arms her nails seeming to grow as she reached the ends of her hands. “And no, foxes do not have souls so they will not go there” She wrung her long flowing hair as she got out of the tub. “While I do appreciate the effort into sorting out the souls. It is not right to let them torture themselves like this. No man is an island, and they should remember that.” Alatadriel snapped her fingers as a series of towels flew through the air to cover her. “I will bring substance to your world, but I expect in return help to bring down The Hundred Tribes under my command.”


Alatadriel looks into the swirling chaos of the passing and breaths into the flames of judgment. Judgment from their past lives. Appearing like a sun in the sky this gigantic flame hangs above all. Casting shadows of how they were seen in their past life. Usually, this just alters their own form making a bastion of the community appear more stately or a criminal appearing more shifty and distraught in their shadow. But particularly upon moments of introspection, the shadow may form items or substances such as blood dripping off a cruel soldier’s hands or a crown upon your head. Perhaps even playing out a moment in your life that defined you to others.
It also appears significantly larger than Yir’s sun. Despite being much smaller.
+2 From Fire.

Petr:
The Fox God appeared before the War Goddess… Or was it Water God? She could never quite figure that out. “I heard that you created a moving island and that only the pure-hearted can get into the area. That is a feat of strength that even I might not be capable of. Water, I was never good at manipulating it. I suspect though that you might be interested in an area that is quite miraculous, and not very far from where your island currently sits. Each season when the rain comes, dunes not far from the coast become large lagoons of vibrant water. It’s caused entire wars before in the past due to how scarce water is in the region outside of this area. And I know you hate pain like that. I’m going to unite this desert. And if you help chip in, I’ll let you rule over this region near the coast. All I ask in return is that you deliver resources when requested of you.

Chern:
Alatadriel appeared in the starry crypt. “Chern, I call up-WHY ARE THERE SO MANY CORPSES!! I stepped in something! Ah! Nope, nope. Not worth it! This is way too gross. I’m out of here.”

Dulnori:
“I hear you are fond of fortunes, and ambitious mortals. That you appreciate wild and free people. I know this may be odd for one of our first meetings, but I believe it might interest you. Something to make both our lands amass more fortune. I am embarking on an expedition into an untamed wilderness. I will give you governorship of a tribe of your choosing so long as it was not promised to another, and in return. All you must do is send me any resources when it is requested of you.

Timorin:
“Cunning as a fox, but with half the wit.” Alatadriel appeared before the god of drama, idly inspecting her nails. “It’s a saying among the Sinalese. Often attributed to you in fact. I admire your art in war, Timorin. Not so much your style, but you know the power of words and swords. And your aesthetics are… Passable. Which is high praise from me, I assure you. Help in my expedition, and I’ll give you a town especially valuable in gypsum mining. I’m sure you can find plenty of inventive uses for it, Dramatic One.
All I ask in return is for you to send resources our way when it is requested of you. ”

Nestellbam:
“Hmm… Yir made a sun before I could make one in The Passing… I should impede him.”
A prophecy only has power if others are aware that it exists. Alatadriel has spread this legend in two ways.
+2 Fire by engraving it on a giant stone in the middle of Three Deserts.
+2 Foxes by giving the Hua-Ling pamphlets to spread around to various villagers about the prophecy coming.
Being on a different continent neither methods made the readers aware of what it really meant, but they were aware that if they ever found this city or place, or possibly a person or item. It probably wouldn’t fall anytime soon.

Kahar-Djinn:
“Really Kahar-Djinn, you spoil me. And I do love being spoiled.” The goddess said with a wicked smile as she started to construct a scroll.
+2 from fire

The Dance of Flame, and Embracing Happiness:
Those who follow ‘The Dance’ embrace the beauty and fleeting nature of a flickering flame. Throwing their body and soul into vibrant, electric dances they can harness the power of fire both inwardly and outwardly.

Dancers live by a simple creed. It still lies etched into the stone where the first dancer was said to have been met with a divine vision of a heavenly flame in the ballet school of Al-Setor. ‘Life is sacred. Everyone should enjoy theirs’. Dancers usually travel in small groups putting on traveling shows to gain money as they expound on their philosophy of a happy life. At the core, nearly all dancers advocate a form of hedonism, but these can vary drastically from dancer to dancer. From advocating an austere life of simple pleasures to believing a life of virtue would cause the greatest happiness as you pursue higher mental pleasures, to advocating that seeking the most happiness for the world will not only create a better world but the greatest happiness for you.

Threshold Zero: Alatdriel would not give the power of flame to anyone. Three requirements are needed to understand the dance along with abstaining from Su Sorcery.
The first is the most obvious, the outward element of The Dance is simply to be a master of dancing. The Dance does not care for your style as long as you throw yourself fully into it.
Next are two inward elements, the first is to Embrace Happiness. This more or less means that you must have a peaceful soul and able to appreciate the value of life, a smile, a child and all the good things in the world.
The second is a test of self-discipline so that the flames will not consume you. You must take a red hot brand press into your skin creating a solid and strong marking somewhere on your body.

First Threshold: Gaining mastery over the flame of life, a dancer can use the oxygen in their own blood to fuel gouts of flames they can expel from their own body with little harm to themselves. While it is a most remarkable technique it is only possible due to an intense training regimen that each dancer must take before they can even set a single light in their thumb. During this period, they learn a breathing technique where even a shallow breath can bring oxygen to replenish the depleted oxygen in their cells so that they may continue their dance throughout the night.

Second Threshold: At this level, the body and soul start to emulate the sacred flame. Outwardly, your body can move faster than the human eye can follow, and with a flexibility that outpaces any mundane contortionist. The body itself may flicker and lengthen beyond its normal limits for moments before returning back to normal. Along with this, they can control the color and shape of the flames they expel.
In their quest to live a Happy Life, Dancers have learned to ignore or weather various painful but inevitable aspects of life. Their body is more resistant to blows and the fire burning within can nourish them for several days without food, water, or sleep without any ill effects. Their body is at a constant 100 degrees without any negative side effects.

Third Threshold: Through self-discipline, training and learning to share happiness with others a greater understanding of The Sacred flame allows you to control the size, heat, intensity, speed, and direction of not only your own flame but others around them. They are however bound by fuel as any other flame would be.
The fire burning within burns stronger than ever. Through concentration and rapid movement, a Flame Dancer can set their flesh ablaze with no ill effects, with the same effort they would be able to boil any liquids they are touching including the liquids of their own body.

Fourth Threshold: Your flame burns at 10% the strength of The Heavenly Goddess. You can ignore pesky things like the need for fuel as you can sustain the flame with your will alone.
The Fire within is not just burning but has become a quintessential part of you. You’re not only able to set yourself ablaze but able to turn parts of yourself into fire itself at a moment’s notice.

Final Threshold: The fire within slowly overtakes your body as you realize that you have little need for one of flesh. You transcend such petty things as you become a spirit of pure flame burning at 33% of the Strength of Alatadriel. If a Flame Dancer ever reaches this point they have achieved true immortality so long as their peaceful soul subsists, and typically spend their days inspiring other hopeful artists.

[Maryring]

Petr looks down upon Alatadriel, one hand idly waving away a raincloud to drift lazily amongst many others. "Do not insult me with your petty delusions of conquest. Greed is your domain, not mine. Even were it not, your "offer" is nothing short of spitting in my face, demanding my assistance current and future in return for scraps. Begone, before I withdraw my blessings from your people."

Once Alatadriel has left, Petr turns their attention back to the world below. They've all been invited to assist Grawissen's creation. Something really ought to be done with that treacherous fox.

The domain of water shifts from blessing Grawissen's creatures with aquamancy, to quenching the fires of Alatadriel and keep the wicked curse from touching them.

[Batcathat]

Ymon-Thal, 50/50 AP

"I will bring substance to your world, but I expect in return help to bring down The Hundred Tribes under my command."

Ymon looked confused at Alatadriel's words. "That sounds kinda mean..."

"Let the Fox have her way in this world", Thal said with a shrug. "We still have the next."

Ymon-Thal gathered his power and let it flow over the people preparing to enter the Three Deserts.


Ymon-Thal aids Alatadriel's expedition, with Ymon strengthening the participants to better endure (+2 Life) and Thal keeping the door to the afterlife shut for some of those who otherwise would have died (+2 Death).

[The JoJo]

Avestra, Toran Savannah

The Savannah made a stark contrast with the forest in which Avestra habitually resided, but there was nowhere else quite like it to soar on a bright, sunny day. She glided over a herd of elephants, spiralling up on a warm air current, before diving down to catch an unfortunate rodent who had picked that moment to stick its head above ground. As she tucked into her meal, she watched a group of long-limbed tallheads wander past, spears in hand. This land was where their kind had first evolved, and so she couldn't begrudge them taking their share here. One of the tallheads, a young woman with reddish-brown skin and long, braided hair carried a falcon on her outstretched wrist. Avestra watched as she muttered a few clicking sounds in the bird's ear, before letting it take off into the open sky.

The woman was treewhispering, but directly with a bird, without the intermediary of any tree. This was an innovation that Avestra hadn't foreseen and an impressive one, given the paucity of trees in the area. Unlike the beasts of burden she had seen chained to ploughs, the falcon was entirely free to leave its handler, if it so wished. A truly mutual relationship.

She felt another ripple through reality. A second form of magic was being created. As before, she saw the dangers of misuse but also an opportunity. Perhaps all humans could be taught to live alongside animals as this young woman did. There was only one way to find out.



Assist Kahar-Djin with +2 nature to create the Path of Nature.

The Path of Nature

Those who travel this Path believe that the true power of divinity lies in the realisation of the oneness of the self and the universe and one's connection with all living beings. Rather than being encoded in a scroll, the path is available globally through the treewhisper network, with Avestra's Perch being the ultimate source. It can also be transmitted orally by practitioners. Unlike the four paths of Kahar-Djin, its practice is compatible with su-sorcery.

Threshold Zero:

To enter threshold zero, the traveller must possess at least a basic fluency in treewhispering. This can either be acquired at a young age by immersion in a forest environment, or by diligent study later in life. Furthermore, the traveller must take an oath to only take life for nourishment or in self-defence and to otherwise live in harmony with nature.

First Threshold:

Upon reaching the first threshold, the traveller is able to use advanced treewhispering skills, such as passing messages through a forest, and also can communicate with animals on a basic level through body language and imitating cries.

Second Threshold:

Upon reaching the second threshold, the traveller is able to communicate with most animals as if they were their own species. The utility of this can depend the intellect and social abilities of the species in question.

Third Threshold:

Upon reaching the third threshold, the traveller has the ability to go into a trance and let their soul temporarily enter the local treewhisper network. Animals will now usually follow the adherent's bidding, provided they have the intellectual capacity to understand the instruction. Additionally, at this level the traveller will begin to regain fragmented memories of any past lives, though in an indistinct manner.

Fourth Threshold:

Upon reaching the fourth threshold, the traveller's soul is able to stay indefinitely within the treewhisper network and travel long distances, provided that their physical body is nourished and watered by a willing volunteer. All wild animals will instinctively avoid harming such a practitioner and some may even spontaneously offer aid in times of need.

Final Threshold:

Upon achieving the final threshold, the traveller will come to realise their true place in the universe and the circle of life. They will remember their past lives in great detail and be able to draw on knowledge from those lives. All living beings will be soothed by their calming presence, although strong-willed mortals can resist this.

When the traveller feels the end of their journey drawing near, they will begin fasting in preparation for the final ceremony. They will be placed beneath a tree, where upon death, their soul will be able to roam freely across the treewhisper network, providing a source of guidance for future generations.

[AlexanderML]

Yir Above the Three Deserts 50/50 AP:

The sun above looked down at the expedition, it's hard gaze never forgotten in these parts, and scoffed at the godling below.

"Godling, or is it demi-god? I cannot tell for you are so small, and I have yet to hear of you. I pity you, for you must know that you are twice over doomed to failure. For in these lands MY gaze shall drive all but my blessed back and you will find it harsh enough to slay men and beast. No matter what charm you employ, none but my blessed can earn the respect, love, or loyalty of the people here, for in their hearts they await those with true MAJESTY."

+2 Sun: Within the Three Deserts beams of light will often fall at random during the day and being caught in one is certain death for most as these beams are hot enough to melt metal. The locals know how to use these to their advantage, snickering at the idiocy of orcs that cannot tell where or when the next beam will fall.

+2 Majesty: The locals of the deserts grow incredibly resilient to being subjugated by anyone as they feel a divine sense of majesty guide them, becoming capable of only open hatred or silent compliant fear to those that would even rule them at a distance. Yir says that it's giants can get past this and earn true loyalty from these people, but it's wrong (for now at least).



As long as the values of community are held dear, Theshana shall never be destroyed.

"Your quest to preserve a people's way of life and freedom is one I can enjoy. Please accept this token of assistance from me, to help ensure your dream remain reality. In a few nights, when the moon is full and shines upon Sanctuary, I shall reveal myself to mortalkind. In the same moment, the spring will reach full force."

”YES!... This prophecy will come to fruition… A story will not be forgotten...’

“Hmm… Yir made a sun before I could make one in The Passing… I should impede him.”

Here it was for Yir to see and feel, the power of the tiny malicious gods working against the good creations it wished to build, for the better future of the world. Did they not realize the pain they were inflicting on Yir's own? No, they probably realized the true extent of the evils they were inflicting upon the world. Calling upon it's own power, it looked for a way to make peace.

"Indeed, Theshana may never fall through war, but it's spirit shall find ME and in time it shall open it's gates to their kin as the most beloved of cities."

+2 Majesty +1 Perfection -2 Arrogance
Yir firstly tries to spread it's worship of itself in the city, though probably to no great effect.

The real punch to this is that Yir makes it so that those within Theshana shall find giants that will become kin, and in time the city shall be kin to giants. The empire will gladly let such a city join with many unique privileges if it so chooses. Though, even if it declines that, it might start to have it's culture subsumed...

(Guessing the 'worst' stuff for Theshana would happen if the prophesy fails, otherwise it stays independent and with giants, up to GM.)


Yir, Ulmor the Wizard-Smith of Enchantment, Ragdios the Radiant - Holy High - The Light Descends:

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Holy High was the only place that such a ceremony could take place thought Ulmor. A temple far past the cities of bronze and stone down below, for up here he could feel the power of his goddess even as chill touched his armored form. Granted, being above ground made him uneasy, but this was something important. Sacred even, though he was not the type to think on that often.

What did stick in his head was the arduous journey he had bringing up his master-piece to this place. One golden piece of enchanted work after the next for the Sahgori Ragdios, with strange instructions and engravings being ordered on each piece. It did not take the wizard long to realize that these were being made for a ritual of grand proportions. After years of labor he was able to forge the last piece, a large enchanted heart made of gold with engraved diamond runes (which even he had no understanding of).

Ulmor was told to go to the top overhand of the temple, a place normally reserved for only the clergy. It did not look special the many times he had glanced at it from a distance, it seemed like just an outstretch of rock with some tiling. When Ulmor actually entered this highest spot at the top of the mountain, he could not hold in his shock. For he felt her, his goddess Yir, here watching those that enter this now obvious sacred place. Ragdious and his councilor robes stood near the edge, with the ornate set of armor Ulmor had painstakingly put together.

https://i.pinimg.com/originals/19/2f/48/192f48c38f8721d34d72464d4535068d.jpg

Yir spoke:

"Greetings my child of soul. You have followed the designs of my servant well. Tell me, do you know what your work was for?" There was no malice, instead there was only amusement and gratitude.

Still nervous Ulmor responded with. "I'm almost certain of it now, after hearing your voice your majesty, that it is meant to contain your divine power upon this world."

"You are indeed correct my child. It shall serve to hold MY light down upon this world, so that I shall forevermore never be away from my creations."

This made Ulmor worried, his clan was not the most virtuous.... But it was probably a good thing nonetheless.

"Hold the heart to the chest of the vessel, then leave this most sacred of ground. Even Ragdios must leave for what will happen is not meant to be seen by mortal eyes."

Slowly and with ever nervous hands Ulmor gave up the heart to the vessel and left with the councilor. A bright light could be felt on their backs as they left, but they did not turn to look.


To Chern: I bring light down to save this world, and all shall know joy from it's works. Please, even if you are driven to destroy, let it be after this Age. Don't take away the people's Hope.

To Grawissen: I am... angered, disappointed, saddened, by what you've done to harm my blessed children. Remember to at least help my light's decent upon this world, for if you cannot even return help given to you then I will enact revenge for those that call for my protection.

To Alatadriel: (Nothing, Yir's not quite sure where she is or her divine status.)

To Avestra: Lady of the skies I watch over with my Light, I give good news for the birds to proclaim. MY light has descended to save the world, and from it's works Good shall be done.

To Vreyalas: Peace be with you, though our children have fought I believe that may change. MY light has decended, and by it's works Peace shall be given onto the land.

Nestellbam: Yir lazer's the wrym if spotted, refusing to talk to it.

To Timorin: Great change is coming! MY light is descending to Change the world.

To Opulon: I, brightest Above, ask that you help me change the world. My light has descended from the heavens, please don't let this star-light fade.

To Petr: You malicious being of subtle evil, who's usage of the power of healing let's you hide from the fact that you draw out the conflict of my children, dooming them to suffer. Show that you have a sliver of goodness in your Heart in the light that I bring down upon this world.

To Su'ule: Beast that hounds my children, do not touch this vessel.

To Ymon-Thal: My light has come down from the heavens, as stated to you before, I wish it to have life and to wield death. It's life shall be filled with Both.

To Kahar-Djin:My light has descended from the heavens, to teach my Path to the world. As stated before, let it be able to walk this road, and have no threshold be too great for it.

To Dulnori: Godling, my light has descended from the heavens to take on many challenges, some not even gods could possibly face. Let it find Glory not just for itself, but the world.

50 AP
+2 Sun +2 Majesty +1 Perfection +2 Stonethroe

-18 AP/DC 14: Create Demi-God - Yir's Vessel (+2 Giant)
Yir wishes to create a golden humanoid copy of itself that can act in it's stead and withstand going through the Ages. It's form shall be a suit of armor with the only semi-fleshy part being the golden heart. It can transform to different sizes, have the abilities demi-gods have and has the general abilities that other Yir worshipers have (but better).

Personality wise it's Yir on puppet strings that can work on it's own when Yir is gone.

[Godzillarich]

Yir action
”I accept… Because of your kindness… For helping Morgana

+2 mining: his suit will be hard as diamonds and will magnificently crafted

+2 knowledge: he will always understand the complex situations of the world no matter how touched changes.

+2 architecture (pickax): this demigod will have a beautiful palace on top of the mountains.

+1 writing: he will be an excellent poet and writer, making beautiful tales of the God, ( mostly Yir)

[Demonjazz]

Alatadriel was just sitting in a lounge chair drinking some tea after being rudely ignored by Petr. It seems she had committed some sort of faux pas among the other gods. I mean how was Petr even going to take her blessings? She never gave any in the first place. She took a deep sip from her cup when all of a sudden the sun pointed in her direction and started to talk to her. She didn't really listen to what was being said. Primarily due to the agony, her eyes were in as she tried to look up at the god. "Uh, what! Could you say that again!"
Then as she started to get up from her chair. A gigantic laser of light pierced through the sky among the desert taking out a stationary building as it was engulfed in flames. "WHAT THE ****! YOU ****ING! COME BACK HERE YOU PIECE OF ****!" She yelled at the stationary sun.

Not content with simply hurling insults at the sun. She decided to repay the insult in kind back to the god.
+2 From fire.
As the demigod king of the giants slept. Nightmares of fire overtaking him and his people would plague him every night for an entire year. Giving the strange half vessel a profound and intense fear of fire baked into it's being.

[Garjel_blah]

To Chern: I bring light down to save this world, and all shall know joy from it's works. Please, even if you are driven to destroy, let it be after this Age. Don't take away the people's Hope.

50 AP
+2 Sun +2 Majesty +1 Perfection

-18 AP/DC 14: Create Demi-God - Yir's Vessel (+2 Giant)
Yir wishes to create a golden humanoid copy of itself that can act in it's stead and withstand going through the Ages. It's form shall be a suit of armor with the only semi-fleshy part being the golden heart. It can transform to different sizes, have the abilities demi-gods have and has the general abilities that other Yir worshipers have (but better).

Personality wise it's Yir on puppet strings that can work on it's own when Yir is gone.

Chern, 50/50 AP, Stonesthroe Mountains

An unseasonably dense swarm of flies formed a tiny blot on the otherwise pristine Stonesthroe skyscape, descending from the heavens like the worlds slowest, most oozing bolt of lightning. It dripped down the sides of the mountain peak, running as low as the deep caves and then soaring back up again. The swarm split, each little fly setting off in a different direction.

Chern had manifested here at the invitation of Yir, who had never before paid him much heed but seemed now to require aid. Before giving his aid, however, the Wiltwatcher was eager to see what had become of this land, a whole world away from his own people. After examining towns, villages, farms, and travellers along the roads between them, Chern found himself...

Unimpressed.

Deeply, deeply unimpressed.

In this kingdom of the sun the powerful towered above the weak, subjecting them to a life of servitude and second rates. They fought endlessly with their neighbours, including the city of Theshana, the prophecy of which Chern had ignored back when he walked with Mila. They added to their oppressed lower castes by enslaving the conquered, excepting only those who bore the genes of their 'superior' race. Those in power had taken away basic freedoms, some even placing restrictions upon who their people could couple with.

Tyranny. Racial discrimination. Slavery. Eugenics. Chern never would have believed that such evil could have infiltrated the world so early.

A buzzing could be heard from the peak of Holy High. Suddenly the wizard Ulmor felt the tiny prodding of flies on his exposed skin, most unusual in this time of year. They seemed to gravitate towards the suit of armour, one by one alighting on the ornate metal plating until they'd generated a swirling, roaring kaleidoscope of wings, legs, and multifaceted eyes. The chaotic buzzing seemed to unify into a drawling, sinister voice, that whispered these words into the ears of those present,

"ROOOOTTEN... TO... THE... COOOOOOOORE!

Then just as suddenly as it appeared, the swarm was gone. An odd odour lingered in their wake.

Hinder Yir's creation of a demigod

-4 Decay, as Chern is utilising the stench of rot

Chern wants everyone to remember, that although the Sugradi Empire looks grand and impressive from afar, if you look at it too closely you will see just how much evil there really is. He will therefore make Yir's Vessel have a naturally pungent body odour, which anyone in possession of a nose could not fail to detect if they stood beside him. The odour can of course be masked with perfumes and very frequent bathing, but it will always come back, for it is inherent to the system this demigod represents.

On their way back to the sky, Chern's swarm passed by Theshana. Preservation was a somewhat antithetical concept for Chern, who was fundamentally an entity of cycles and change. That was the main reason he had ignored the prophecy when he'd first hear it - the almost indefinite preservation of the city didn't interest him. Not to mention, the prophecy didn't rhyme.

However, seeing what the ancient town was up against, Chern felt a pang of sympathy. These people were losing. They too would become slaves beneath the heel of the sun tyrants. He decided to throw his lot in with them, for the sake of the mortals who stood to lose so much.

The buzzing resounded throughout the town square...

The giants of the mountain come
Upon Theshana, the city of old
To conquer and assimilate
Unto Theshana, destruction untold
But while her people keep their way
And never from their code do stray
Theshana's walls will hold this day
And giant's blood will then decay
Forever Theshana, your walls will hold
Brave Theshana, while your people stay bold

Help Nestellbam's prophecy

+4 Decay, as his action pertains to population decay

Chern will prophecy that as long as Theshana's values of community are held dear, any giant blood in their population will continuously cease to gain traction. The population will always, inevitably, decay to negligible numbers. This will probably end up being cancelled out by Yir's hinder, to make the giant population in Theshana average.

[Maryring]

Petr looks upon Yir with a cool undercurrent of icy wrath. When they speak it is with a voice of violent waves crashing upon rocks. "You dare?! Your people bring with them violence and terror. The weakest among your people live lives bereft of hope or mercy. The giants are greedy like the fox. They worship the self without an ounce of reflection or remembrance of what they once were, of where they come from, and to where they will inevitably return. You dare come here accusing Me of wickedness, when you not only permit wickedness, but grow and nurture it. Mind your responsibilities, and mind you do not blind yourself to the many gifts I offer even unto your people. Lest one day I remove the waters that they depend upon so dearly!" As the storm passes, Petr presents their palm, and from there conjures a lifeline of blood and water. "I will give you what you ask, for a child should not suffer the crimes of their parents. I will give him blood and life. Empathy and love. He shall be able to partake of My domains. My Waters will permit him passage, and by My Mercy, he shall be able to give and receive healing. These blessings shall remain, so long as he does not shed innocent blood. If he ever does, I will revoke my blessing. Indeed, I will instead bring my Wrath upon him. My Healing shall turn upon him, and hurt him as he hurts others. My Water shall drown him, and no matter how much he drinks, he shall always be Thirsty."

+2 Water. Yir's giant is given lifeblood, with all the boons and banes being a living creature implies, like empathy, the ability to feel pain, and a need to drink, but the waters will recognize Petr's blessing and will allow him to cross bodies of water unmolested.
+2 Healing. Yir's giant is given the ability to heal and be healed by the powers of the Water domain. Even without any skill in Su'Sorcery, Petr's blessing will let the giant remove disease and injury with a touch.

[gac3]

Timorin

“Cunning as a fox, but with half the wit.” Alatadriel appeared before the god of drama, idly inspecting her nails. “It’s a saying among the Sinalese. Often attributed to you in fact. I admire your art in war, Timorin. Not so much your style, but you know the power of words and swords. And your aesthetics are… Passable. Which is high praise from me, I assure you. Help in my expedition, and I’ll give you a town especially valuable in gypsum mining. I’m sure you can find plenty of inventive uses for it, Dramatic One.
All I ask in return is for you to send resources our way when it is requested of you. ”

With a smile Timorin winks and is off. He is next at the center of the of the one hundred tribes. He chose this one specifically because it was further away from the start of Alatadriel's campaign and they were known for their sharp Spears and dull wits. He takes on the form of a powerful warrior in gleaming armor. "Behold, it is I, Lord or the Pile Drive. I come to offer you gifts twofold. First, there is a army led by the wife of Grawissen, come to show her displeasure at her husband's misdeeds. I bring you hope. The lasers from the sky shall burn and delay your enemy but in truth will fail. Alatadriel is the patron of fire. Her might burns almost as brightly as her spite. The lasers may burn their supplies and their armor but her people will not be dissuaded. The flames will fuel their will and keep them strong. There is hope though. You can quench this threat the same way you quench any unruly fire, with water. Gather all the water you can carry. Leave behind your weapons and armor if need be. With enough, the power granted by these lasers and fires will be quenched and these mutts will be nothing more than lap dogs at your feet. Hurry, before they gain too much power and March against the enemy." Then he was gone.

+2 Drama, +2 War, -2 Fear
Timorin is hoping that this will convince this tribe to waste most of their water and even try to commandeer water from other tribes only to fail. They may flee or surrender or die trying when their efforts fail. The goal though is that by the time Alatadriel makes it here and offers her deal, the only thought these people will have is to make sure to ask for more water as a part of it




To Timorin: Great change is coming! MY light is descending to Change the world.


"Then let's change it for the better." Timorin wills a seed of chaos, of life, of desire into the demigod. "Feel. Think. Be. You are more than your father's will. Be free. Live impulsively. Act eagerly. Dream."
Timorin gives the demigod passion.

+2 Drama: Timorin is trying to make the demigod into a poet, an actor, a dancer, something with a passion. He will have free will with a burning desire to add to the world culture. He will be a rebellious artsy teen who disagrees with his father's plan for his future.



Timorin approaches the Cult of The Mad God without speaking. He works his way to it's heart, ignoring any questions. He leaves a scroll placed in the center of the circle created by the Luscent Crown. Then he leaves

+2 Drama, -2 Fear
The Path of Emotion is about embracing your true self. Those who follow this path will come to understand their wants and desires better than anyone else. With understanding will come the need to embrace one's self. Once embraced, potential is limitless.

Threshold Zero: To begin down this path, one must openly wear a piece of jewelry made of magicite. This may be a ring or a necklace or bracelet. It can be anything really as long as it's magicite, worn, and visible. This becomes tied to them and their emotions. It will change color depending on the wearer's emotions. This reveals how they truly deal, whether they want it revealed or not. Coming to terms with this is part of the process.

Threshold One: Someone at the first threshold is in touch with their emotions and their causes. They no longer feel any shame or desire to hide an emotional response. On top of this they begin to be able to see the emotional aura around others. They become adept at being able to interpret someone's true emotions, despite any facade they may put on. This makes them adept manipulators, counselors, negotiators, etc.

Threshold Two: A true understanding of emotion is needed to reach the second threshold. Someone who has reached this threshold begins to understand the links people have with eachother and things. They begin to see the aural ties that tie people together. Anyone they see who has powerful emotions about an object or person nearby is apparent to them. They know what is important to themselves and others, able to see if people hate eachother or love eachother, or envy eachother with nothing more than their proximity. This reaches down beyond surface emotions, allowing for them to see these connections, even if the people are not aware of the other being there.

Third Threshold: At the third Threshold can begin to change emotions in others. Once they reach this level of understanding, they are able to intensify or weaken emotions. They cannot yet turn love into hate or in any way alter the nature of the emotions, but rather changes the intensity. They can make a few lesser or a joy greater through sheer will.

Fourth Threshold: At this point, their connection to emotion is so strong that they may turn love into hate, lust into fear, curiousity into apathy. Their manipulation of their own emotions and that of others becomes so great that often, people don't realize the change occurred. Most see such changes and assume that their hate had masked their love for fear of being hurt or whatever other reasons people often hide their emotions.

Fifth Threshold: At the final Threshold, the practitioner becomes more aware of how the soul plays a role in emotion. They can see emotions so plainly that they can look back to the root of such things, spanning lifetimes if needed. They may see how their last life ended in their drowning, to explain their fear of water in this life or that two people had been married in a past life and that is why they are drawn to eachother in this one. It may also be within the life.



Timorin was so excited for the party. He's never invited anywhere except to scare and kill people. He makes his way to sanctuary and drops some drama into the water. Then he offers to put on his one man show.

"Before I begin, know that this is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to actual people or events is completely coincidental."

The show has three acts. First is the courting of the firery Alimony by the bookish Grippenwo. Their love story was one of the ages. Alimony and her cyotes with their wild savagery. Grippenwo and his books and research, being drawn out into the world. It ends with their marriage and their vows to always be there for one another.

The second act is of the way their relationship changed. They were so happy with Grippenwo eager to please his wife, giving her everything she asked for while she barely noticed his presence. She went about her life, being cruel and petty. One day though, Grippenwo came to Alimony and told her that neighborhood kids had started talking foully of her. "I'm writing a book," he says. "One that will show them the error of their ways. I would love your help to end this nonsense."

After thinking about it, and collecting more of his money she smiles. "Sure. All books are better with fire. now throw the book at them," she lights the book aflame as she says this. "It will work much better."

This was the final wedge that drove the couple apart. Their divorce being the end of the second act.

The third act begins with Grippenwo bringing Alimony her divorce money. Yet when he found her pacing.
"Is everything wrong my... Alimony?"
"It's those neighborhood children. They still don't understand my greatness. I keep throwing flaming books at them and yet they still don't understand. You were always better at these things. The understanding and the doing nothing useful. I was always the doer."
The compliment made Grippenwo smile. "Perhaps there is something I can do." And he took what left of his half burned book and taught the children the error of their ways. And Alimony thanked him with one final night of passion. They continued to be true friends after that. The only evidence of their bitter feud being the regular Alimony payments.


Timorin takes a bow and thanks everyone for the invitation.

+2 Drama
The Moonpool lake thing will help inspire creators. Writers, actors, choreographers, chefs and everyone who needs inspiration to continue their craft can find inspiration in the way the water moves.




Timorin was kind of drunk after the party. Kind of drunk before the party but definitely drunk now.
He hears of the prophecy being created and makes his way towards the heart of the prophecy.

"Beware the bear that is not a bear.
The one who shall change this land.
For better or worse, I could not care,
But make sure to have a fish in hand.
The eye of the shark shall guide you,
To the piece you need but haven't found,
While the hair of the goat shall hide you,
From the one great foe, who swallows sound.


+2 for a dramatic and drunken addition to the prophecy

[Garjel_blah]

Kahar-Djin's Reactions

(OOC from Megadraco: Garjel_blah's posting this for me since I don't have a PC around right now.)

(OOC from Garjel: you're welcome!)

Kahar-Djin helps the action with a +2 Thresholds, creating multiple gateways in and out of the Passing, near populated centers throughout the world, that mortals cannot see or use, but the souls of the departed can, and with +2 Paths, creating ethereal paths that lead the souls of the departed toward said gateways.


Kahar-Djin helps with +2 Paths, so that they may always find their way, +2 Thresholds, so the different settlements in the world will know of them and open their gates to them, and +1 Travellers, that they be tireless in their journeys.

+2 Thresholds help

"When they are attacked, so it is told,
That the tall walls of Theshana will hold
And their foes, no matter the might, will fold."


Kahar-Djin finds empires... Distasteful, and so hinders the expedition with +2 Paths, so the caravan will lose their way often, and struggle to find a clear way. +2 Thresholds will make the tribes wary and unwilling to let the caravan in, and +1 Travellers will make the journey exhausting and rife with misfortune. However, they suffers from their -2 Unexplored, as many parts of the deserts, particularly the Great Orcishtal Desert, are not known to man, and thus are outside their domain.

Kahar-Djin is somewhat confused at the request, but decides to help regardless. With +2 Thresholds he turns the lake into a special gate to the Passing, that both living and dead can use. With +2 Paths he creates a shining, silver path on the other side of this gate, stable amid the chaos of the Passing, that leads to the spring of Tabula Rasa. Those living who walk through the gate must stay within the Path, or risk the chaos of the Passing to take them towards death and rebirth. However, due to their -2 Unexplored, this Path isn't as stable as Kahar-Djin had hoped, often blurring, twisting and turning, creating false forks that then close up on the traveller, and being generally hazardous.

Kahar-Djin dislikes conquerors, and would not condone the creation of one. However, this demigod... Appeals to them, in some way, and so they help with +2 Paths, granting them the gift of creating paths of emotion to those around them, allowing them to feel what others feel, both bright (joy, love, surprise, celebration) and dark (fear, pain, grief, despair.)

[flyinglemur]

700 years had passed. The Horizon Tribe had grown strong, very strong, but somber. Their god had been away for so long, and they never could explain why. Had he not blessed them always? Still, they held hope. They could feel that one day their god would return, and they carried on. They fought on as always, and had their first meetings with the giants. They found metals and jewels out in the plains, beautiful things, to bring back to their sister tribe, the Aeons. They wandered the Steppe, and they thrived.

The Horizon Tribe lives off the land, in a mix of hunting game, foraging, and keeping herds of animals on the periphery of their land. Their population has grown considerably, and they have mastered mining and manufacturing bronze. In most places such a society couldn’t last long. Over-hunting would soon have wiped out the herds, and the difficulty of that primitive life style would prevent technological advancement. But the steppe is special. Nestellbam’s blessing on the land is far reaching indeed. He decreed the land would not change, and so it does not. Game is always plentiful, because that’s how it was, and so how it will be. Animals survive in the steppe that have long since gone extinct elsewhere. Diseases are rare, for their randomness would upset the balance of the steppe. Everything is hardy and tough. Meat lasts longer than it should, and fruits take much longer to spoil. The steppe has a feeling of serenity to it. As the saying goes, the best place to do hard work is the steppe, because no matter how many days have passed you won’t feel like it’s been more than 5 minutes.

The Horizon Tribe is able to take full advantage of these conditions. They travel through the steppe growing strong and the plentiful, and on occasion travel to its edges. Their they hold primitive camps and fortresses, and pasture large herds of beasts. These add to their food supply with their meat and milk, and allow for a greater stability to their population. They are led in this by their shamans. Magic is rare, of course, among the Horizon Tribe. Many a tribesman might have become a sorcerer, if only he were born somewhere else. Magic is never taught formally, and shamans don’t take just anyone as students, because most tribesmen will never be able to perform anything beyond the simplest magic trick. However, on occasion a prodigy is born that can wield Dulnori’s invention. Those destined to become mages are almost always found as children, having managed to perform magic on accident while still inside the steppe. A band with one of these fabled prodigy’s will meet with a shaman during the Miracle Games, and the child will usually be taken as an apprentice. When a shaman is training apprentices they’ll travel to the very center of the steppe, where Nestellbam’s power is strongest. They will spend years mastering the art of nature magic, bending the thorns of the plants, mastering the mighty herds they are expected to care for. It is a difficult path even for those special children, but it is well worth undertaking. When they are done training they will return to their band, and the whole group shall migrate permanently to the outer edges of the steppe, where magic normalizes. There they keep their herds, and distribute the meat and milk to bands that are migrating, or preparing to quest in foreign lands. These herds are few in number, but vast, as the nature magic keeps the animals healthy and productive. The shamans are expert sorcerers. They’ve spent their childhoods training in a place where magic is near impossible, so when they finally have the freedom to wield magic in its full capacity, their power can be tremendous. A Horizon shaman is said to be able to make fortresses out of the grass, and command the herds as though they were one animal. Their favorite trick, used mostly during the rare raids, is to invoke a great stampede, either backwards to safety in the steppe, or forwards to trample the invaders under countless hooves. They are still limited of course, in number as well as variety. The lengthy and difficult training, combined with the cultural isolation of the Horizon, leaves little time for exploration, and as such all non-nature magic is effectively non existent. The shamans are highly respected, and often called Dulnori’s chosen.

The Horizon are still faithful, worshipping in full Dulnori and Nestellbam. They are known by many names, the hunter and the tanner, the sand and the snow, and most famously, the dragon and the whirlwind. This particular image is depicted in the banners and flags of the Horizon, a blue dragon breathing a raging cloud of wind and sand. They are seen as the two great cosmic archetypes, all things are an expression of Dulnori’s desire for change, or Nestellbam’s desire for stasis. Both are necessary for existence, and this is embodied throughout the steppe. The summer and the winter, the sun and stars, the world above and the underground. The Horizon Tribe maintain the balance of this, the boundary of the earth and sky, aided by the Aeons. Though it is of course acknowledged that they are more Dulnori, while the Aeons are more Nestellbam. This is not a bad thing though, the two tribes will balance each other out.

Horizon society is loose, with individual bands living separately, but always ready to aid each other if need be. The Miracle Games act as their chief unifying force. During those games the entire tribe is able to see itself as one cohesive whole, and even those who live far from the rest are able to pay homage to the King of the Horizon. These Games aren’t just fun, but often act as an important time to make political and social decisions. Chieftains are able to deal with each other, and the King can proclaim the goals and plans for the tribe in the next two years. The Horizon always strive for greatness, and the chief function of the King is to ensure that they never grow too weak or complacent, and to organize expeditions out of the steppe for treasure.

——

It was the Autumnal equinox, and the Eternal Arena was filled in the usual style. On the most prestigious seat for a mortal, sat King Elkhoof, the most recent in a long line of kings, descended from that first hunter who led his tribe against the rhinoceros. It was a joy to be back in the steppe. He had been on a great quest searching for rare jewels in foreign lands, and it was certainly great to be home. He always preferred the steppe territory, the air was cleaner here, and the meat always tasted a little nicer. And of course, the games were occurring, he couldn’t help but love the fervor. However, in the back of his mind he felt a bit of melancholy. Behind him sat the throne of Dulnori, lain empty for 700 years. He knew that once Dulnori saw these games, he fed the people, and he did battle in the pit. Now, he didn’t. He hadn’t. Not in ages. His people still held hope for his return, and faith in his teachings, but Elkhoof had always wondered. It seemed a shame to him, that Dulnori could not witness the spectacle, and that the fifth day would always end in a petty facsimile of itself. They had tried facing animals, the greatest things they could find, for 700 years. It was fun, but deep down, Elkhoof knew that mere beasts were not the challenge they needed. They needed the Hunt. When would Dulnori return to give them that Hunt? Nestellbam had to return as well, he supposed, but that old grump was never a big fan of sports anyhow. He watched on.

——

Dulnori couldn’t tell what happened at first. It was as though some dark power had dragged him off. But he was now awake. He saw and felt once again the sensations of life. He could feel great beings pulling on reality, shaping the world. He tore himself out of the ground in a fury, what happened, where was he? And then he saw the crowd. He had been reborn in the perfect spot, in the middle of the arena, his arena. He looked on, the crowd was stunned. He was in a rough human shape, sand and silt barely held together. Now, he knew what had happened, and he prepared to speak. But Elkhoof preempted him, “Who are you interloper? Why do you interrupt this sacred contest? Speak now, or we will show you why we are the Horizon tribe.” Dulnori’s heart filled with pride, and so he said, “You know who I am. I am the sun, I am the summer, I am the sand, and the sky, and the churning winds. I am your spears and your shamans. I am he who rules the world above. You know what I want. Show me your fury. Show me your power. SHOW ME WHO YOU ARE.”

For the first time in 700 years the Hunt was on. Dulnori took the form of a great golem of sand and stone, and the Horizon descended upon him like nothing else. The inevitable happened, and the day would be remembered as one of the finest Hunts in steppe history. When all was said and done the tribe returned to the Eternal Arena. Dulnori stood tall, and made his declaration. “I have returned. I know not what power took me away, but I can feel its intent. I cannot remain here for long, and I apologize for my weakness. You have all done perfectly, in these 700 years. I promise you all this. I will use my might to fulfill your dreams. And you shall fulfill mine in the 700 years I am gone. And on and on and so be it, until I can stay forever. I can feel your souls, my tribe. These centuries have been hard, but you have excelled beyond all expectations. You are the strongest people the world has ever seen. Grow even stronger, until you can reach the sky, and grasp your dreams.” The Horizon cheered, all the centuries of waiting, of fighting, of striving, all of it was vindicated here.
“Glory to the Dragon!” “Glory to the Dragon!”
“Glory to the Whirlwind!” “Glory to the Whirlwind!”
“GLORY TO YOU!” “GLORY TO US!”

——

It was the night after the hunt. The Horizon Tribe was dispersing, and Elkhoof had returned to own camp. It was near the Arena, the king had to be able to get there fast after all. He still couldn’t believe what happened. It was in his reign, that Dulnori had finally returned. He was overjoyed, and afraid. This would be a time of great struggle, and Elkhoof felt his resolve weaken. How could he hope to measure up to Dulnori’s standard. The Hunt had taxed him. He could only barely control his people in their frenzy, did he really believe himself capable of channeling that fury the way Dulnori wanted him to? Elkhoof spoke with Braeden, his chief advisor. A great shaman, descended from an ancient lineage, he too had mixed feelings to say the least. He was a powerful man, politically, and personally, but he always chafed under his position. He had many responsibilities, and little time to enjoy the freedom his tribe was so fond of. These two men had always been each other’s confidants, and spoke at length about this issue.

Elkhoof began, “So what do we do now?”
“Do you forgot your piety so quick. We’ll do what we’ve always done.”
“But, with Dulnori here, what’s there left for a king to do? What can I do, that he can’t do better?”

“Never say that again,” Dulnori had been listening, and arrived now, in the shape of a man. Elkhoof tried to bow, hoping to appease Dulnori’s anger, but Dulnori stopped him. "End this cowardly prattle. You are the king are you not? You have ruled in my stead, as have your ancestors, for 700 years. Do you think you can be tossed aside like some rotting carcass? NO. You are a member of the Horizon Tribe, and the king of the steppe. You have a duty far beyond anyone else.”"

Elkhoof only felt worse, and his resentment finally boiled over. “What am I the king of? You rule the world above, you’ve said that yourself. We’re just living on your charity. What can we do against you? The Hunt is no real contest is it? You were holding back last night, you always have been. You can’t expect us to do so much, we are just mortals, especially when you’ve been gone for so long. The kings have suffered so much for 700 years trying to keep the Horizon together when you left with no warning at all. Can you understand that? Can you even suffer? Why do you care about any of this?”

Dulnori was taken aback. He now realized just what his absence had done, and just how cruel he had been. He had forgotten what dreams were for a moment. He spoke, remorsefully, “I’m sorry. I didn’t intend to disappear, but I should’ve been more prepared. I should have known enough about myself to realize what would happen, but I never stopped to consider anything. I just plowed on ahead those 700 years ago, and ignored what might happen without me. That was unfair to you, to all of you. But I need you to know that it will not happen again. I will prepare for my next hibernation. And in the mean time, I shall do what I’ve always done, and make dreams come true. I need you to understand me Elkhoof. I want the Horizon tribe to grow, to thrive, to see it’s goals come to fruition. You are more than what you think you are. Mortals have so much potential. Do you think you are nothing Elkhoof? You are everything. You have dreams, and the will to act on them, in the face of brutality and death. I cannot replace you, because you are incredible. The whole of the Horizon tribe is incredible. I hold back yes, but defeating me is still a feat of glory, and one day I will not need to hold back.”

“I shall return to you two later, but for now I must prepare, when I am gone again my words will still be kept.”

——

Dulnori considered his options. He needed something to preserve his instructions, something that could fill the gap when he was gone. So he decided to make a new species. First, he dug through the earth, to acquire a single piece of gold. The most valuable of metals, he figured it would be fitting for this new creation. He transformed into a torrent of sand, and threw himself at the gold. It was ground down eventually, into a fine powder. He cast the powder into the air, and bade the wind carry it across the Steppe. The powder dispersed, and Dulnori began to shape each grain. He stretched them, and twisted them, and he multiplied them, until they finally reached his desired shape. His new creation would work tirelessly to spread his values across this land. They would aid the king’s of the future, so that even when he was gone, the prayer’s of the people might still be answered.

Create magical minion 12 AP/8 DC
These dragons are the teachers and guardians of the steppe. They exist to spread the word of Dulnori and Nestellbam, and to advise mortals. They are a patient and wise race, and obey the will of Dulnori, and Nestellbam too if he wants. They are long and serpent like, similar to chinese type dragons, and move and act with unparalleled grace. Their scales are a beautiful gold color, and forever mark their unique role. Though they fly through the air, they were born from the earth, and they shall always reflect that dual ancestry.

+2 ambition: The Golden Dragons seek to drive mortals to glory in Dulnori’s name. They will search out those with great potential, especially those who don’t realize it, and teach them what they need to know to capitalize on their own skills. They are said to be the greatest of mentors, able to teach even a novice to do great things. They will speak of Dulnori and Nestellbam to all who will listen.

+2 fortune: The Golden Dragons are blessed with a mystical connection to fortune in all its aspects. Simply seeing one is an auspicious sign, as their presence is said to mark out places of importance or secret caches of valuable resources. They can easily find valuables in the earth, and are a generous race indeed, known to reward pious mortals with great wealth and jewels. To the most worthy, they give a few of their scales. These scales are pure gold, and not only that, but still retain some of their former owner’s blessing. A Golden Dragon scale is incredibly valuable as a lucky charm or protective talisman.


The Golden Dragons lead lives of piety and virtue. They are true sages of the steppe, and masters of its lore. It’s said that if you ever meet a Golden Dragon, you must make sure to ask it as many questions as possible, for the wisdom they leave you with will be truly great indeed, and their truthfulness is assured.

[Artemis P]

Nestellbam took to Petr’s ceremony, visiting the island as Petr’s brilliant display occurred. And Nestellbam, there in the form of a old man, responded “And this is my gift to you, Petr. May this scene always repeat itself every year, so that your rememberance may occur.”

+ 4 Preservation in aiding Petr’s sanctifying, by making his entrance (however it may occur) repeat itself cyclically every year in rememberance of this great day.

“to benefit your people and to clear up the misinformation I ask you for your help. No longer will you be haunted by these myths about your greatness.”
Finally, Nestellbam answered the call. “I care not about your people’s lack of information. However, there is a distinctive lack of preservation in this area. However, I am inclined to help- for my own reasons."

+4 Preservation, -2 Creation: Nestellbam will bless the ceratopsians with great memory and an obsession with their ancestors. Thus, they will be able to recite their lineage, from the first ceratopsian, to themselves, all in order, without misstepping. To be unable to recall one’s ancestors is of the highest sins, for it is akin to murder of one;s ancestor.

[flyinglemur]

Dulnori wandered once again, searching for a sign of the dragon’s return, and after just a few days, he heard it. The voice of the dragon echoed like a storm throughout the steppe. He had declared his prophecy, an everlasting city. Dulnori was impressed at the progress the Aeons had made in this time, and knew he had to give them a gift as well, in return for all their hard work preserving the treasures of the Horizon. If the dragon is their shield, let the whirlwind be their sword. He added these words to the prophecy. “If Theshana holds true, it’s dreams shall come true. If Theshana holds fast, it’s riches shall last. If Theshana holds strong, in praise to Nestellbam, then it shall always see the next dawn.”

help the prophecy +2 fortune +2 Ambition -2 stability
Dulnori shall guarantee his aid to the city, so that their hopes, dreams, and ambitions might be realized. They shall be a wealthy city, as the riches of the earth shall fall into their hands. Of course, as an everlasting prophecy, Dulnori will have some trouble with this.

Dulnori was pleased at this, but as he added his verse, he noticed something ajar. There were foreign voices as well, changing and warping the prophecy. He recalled the same voices when the mysterious roar washed over this land and created sorcery. Dulnori was intrigued. He had only ever met one of those strange beings, and even then it was but a chance meeting. Moreover, he felt again the voices of hatred and cruelty, that sought to destroy rather than to create. The demons had awoken once again, and Dulnori wished to make clear his thoughts to them. And so he decided it was finally time to explore the outer world.

He transformed into a few stray grains, and floated calmly through the air. The wind would take him where he needed to go. He was blown across the shining sea, a few nice and relaxing days of travel, until he reached foreign soil. Dulnori awoke in the middle of a strange and impressive city, surrounded by mysterious statues. “It says they are the gods. How interesting. Grawisson, Aladatrial (looks a bit pompous), Yir (seems a little mean), Petr (I know him at least), Dulnori, … hang on. Why am I here, and for that matter why is Nestellbam? I’ve never been here, have I? Well at least I shall see what they have to say? Hmm, greed and earthquakes. That’s hilarious, even if totally wrong. They shall make good souvenirs at least, a piece of history for Theshana to preserve.” Dulnori than tore his statue and Nestellbam’s out of the ground, replacing them with identical copies with changed captions. Dulnori: King of the world above, maker of Dreams, likes spears. Nestellbam: King of the world below, preserver of life, dislikes magic. “There, that should do. The Aeons will surely get a kick out of this story. Although, if these people are so mistaken they clearly need someone to teach them.” Dulnori wandered the city, until something caught his eye. It was a new species of mortal, something he had never seen before. It was some sort of, three horned lizard thingy. Dulnori didn’t know what it was, but it certainly looked handsome. He turned himself into a measly grain of sand, and hopped onto the mortal’s head, to see what this new thingy was up to. The Cerotopsian went about his day as usual, arriving at twelve o’clock sharp to one of his all important business meetings. His partner was a shrewd Sinalese merchant, as crafty as the foxes he worshipped, while the Ceroptopsian was nervous, having only been created recently after all. The poor kid was good, but didn’t have the advantage of experience, and was being completely taken advantage of. Dulnori couldn’t, in good conscience, allow such thing to continue unabated. He whispered into the ears of the Cerotopsian, and revealed the trickery his partner was engaging in. The good dinosaur didn’t know where this strange voice came from, but with it’s advice he was able to reach a far better settlement than he had expected. The Ceroptopsian went to bed pleased that day, and when he woke up, he was astonished to find one of his chest scales had turned a golden color. Dulnori was pleased with his work.

help the creation of the Cerotopsians:
+2 fortune, +2 ambition. The Ceroptopsians all have a single golden scale on their chests, a mark of Dulnori’s blessing. They shall be a people of daring and ambition, willing to take risks in business to turn a profit. However, they shall not be foolish. They shall be master’s of the great art of hedging, and will know well what ventures are valuable, and which are just a waste of time. Coin and wealth shall flow into their hands this way.

Dulnori decided he had spent enough time in this strange city, and soon decided to wander once again. He soon realized he was floating above his home continent. At first he was confused, but soon he would realize just why the wind had taken him this way. He had not arrived in the steppe, but rather, in the Stonethrow Mountains. He let himself float, and surveyed the lands beneath him. Dulnori’s heart soon filled with rage. This was no ordinary civilization was it, it was a slaver empire. These so called giants trod around, their hearts filled with vanity and greed, and countless people suffered under the weight of their cruelty. These decadent people sought only to capture more slaves, and so they languished, feeding on suffering while growing fat and lazy. The giants consumed broken dreams, and lost all dreams of their own. This clearly could not stand. However, Dulnori knew he couldn’t simply destroy this empire. It was too big, and he was tired from his many great deeds lately. Moreover, he felt a presence here, guarding this place. Something was at work here, and Dulnori realized that it would not go down peacefully. However, Dulnori wouldn’t leave this place without doing at least a little first, to break the shackles of the people. He wandered for a while, uncertain, until he felt that presence again. The malevolent power was hidden in a huge temple atop a mountain, and Dulnori entered easily, digging through the earth in the form of a worm. He saw a strange construct, a suit of armor, radiating energy. Dulnori could tell that this was a living thing waiting to be born, and so he crawled into it through one of its joints. He chewed into the soul of this being, and dug through its memories. This was the child of a demon, that called itself Yir. He thought it strange that the city he saw would put up a statue of this creature, so gross in nature. It had probably meddled across the whole world at this point. The worm soon realized a startling truth, this child was being manipulated to lead the demon’s armies in battle. The worm crawled into the child’s dreams, the first stirrings of consciousness before its true birth, and transformed them. The child dreamt it was in the depths of the earth. Gold glimmered around him, and the child desperately tried to mine it. But as he mined the gold moved higher and higher and higher. The child followed the gold upwards, until finally he pierced the surface. It was there that he saw a horrible image, a creature of burning fire, dancing through the sky. As the demon moved the child would grow hotter and hotter, until it felt as though it would melt where it stood. The gold was tied by strings of light to this creature. The child jumped up to grab these strings, but the beast flew higher and higher. Eventually, when the child was on the verge of breaking, it saw a bronze spear in the ground. It grabbed the spear, and skewered the demon. As it fell to the ground the child grew stronger, and when it finally hit the ground the child severed the strings and claimed the gold. The worm crawled out of the armor, and made his way back home.

Hinder to the creation of Yir’s demigod:
+2 fortune, +2 ambition. The demigod shall desire wealth and finery, with a lust for gold above all else, even to the point of excess or distraction. It shall be an ambitious person. It shall strive to a glory even beyond that of its creator. It shall resent orders, and desire more from its life than Yir can give, maybe even see Yir as the obstacle to its dreams.

[Garjel_blah]

Chapter 2, Turn 1 rolls

Ymon-Thal (50 AP) - snap the Passing into existence (18 AP/14 DC) +2 Life/+2 Death/+1 Balance
Grawissen, +2 Mining/+2 Knowledge/+2 Architecture/+1 Writing, the usually plus no language barrier
Petr, +2 Healing/+2 Water/-2 Pain, river of Absolute Purity to make mortals Tabula Rasa
Avestra, +2 Nature/+2 Birds, Avestra's flock guardians
Nestellbam, +4 Preservation
Chern, +4 Decay, masked souls choose their fate
Timorin, +2 Drama/+2 War/+1 Games/-2 Fear, Challenge of Life
Yir, +2 Stonesthroe Peaks/+2 Sun, Stonesthroe Peaks connect to Passing
Alatadriel, +2 Fire, past life shadows
Kahar-Djin, +2 Paths/+2 Thresholds, paths for souls
[roll0]

Grawissen (50 AP) - revive the ceratopsians (16 AP/12 DC) +2 Mining/+2 Knowledge/+2 Architecture/+1 Writing
Petr, +2 Water/+2 Healing, vitality and pass Sanctuary's third gate
Chern, +4 Decay, let them eat fungus
Timorin, +2 Drama, innate honesty
Yir, +2 Sun/+2 Majesty, great beauty and love of the sun
Ymon-Thal, +2 Life
Alatadriel, -2 Foxes/-2 Fire/+2 Arrogance, fox fear and bloodlust raptors
Kahar-Djin, +2 Paths/+2 Thresholds/+1 Travellers, sense of direction and hospitality
[roll1]

Timorin (50 AP) - concoct the Shadow Walkers (12 AP/8 DC) +2 War/+2 Drama/+1 Games/-2 Fear
Ymon-Thal, +2 Life
Grawissen, +2 Knowledge, infamy
[roll2]

Su'ule (50 AP) - spawn the dragon shapeshifter (12 AP/8 DC) +2 Sorcery/+2 Monsters
[roll3]

Petr(50 AP) - sanctify Sanctuary (14 AP/10 DC) +2 Water/+2 Healing/+0 ???
Avestra, +2 Nature/+2 Birds, migratory doves for the Moonlake
Ymon-Thal, +2 Life/+2 Death, close to the Passing
Grawissen, +7 the usual/-2 Unknown
Timorin, +2 Drama, inspiring
Kahar-Djin, +2 Thresholds/+2 Paths/-2 Unknown, Passing path to Moonpool
[roll4]

Avestra (50 AP) - secrete amberis (8 AP/4 DC)
[roll5]

Kahar-Djin (50 AP) - trace the Paths of Divinity (20 AP/ 16 DC) +2 Thresholds/+2 Paths/+1 Travellers
Chern, +4 Decay, Path of Squalor
Yir, +2 Majesty/+1 Perfection, Path of Perfection
Ymon-Thal, +2 Life/+2 Death, Path of the Soul
Petr, +2 Water, Path of Reflection
Grawissen, +2 Knowledge, Path of Knowledge
Alatadriel, +2 Fire, Dance of Flame
Avestra, +2 Nature, Path of Nature
Timorin, +2 Drama, Path of Emotion
[roll6]

Nestellbam (50 AP) - prophecy the longevity of Theshana (24 AP/20 DC) +4 Preservation/+1 Treasures
Petr, +2 Water/+2 Healing, clean water source
Grawissen, +7 the usual
Alatadriel, +2 Fire/+2 Foxes, spread the prophecy
Yir, -2 Majesty/-1 Perfection/+2 Arrogance, soft take-over
Chern, +4 Decay, suppressed giant bloodline
Timorin, +2 Drama, gibberish
Kahar-Djin, +2 Thresholds, some verse
[roll7]

Alatadriel (50 AP) - Operation Desert Storm (18 AP/14 DC) +2 Fire/+2 Foxes/+1 Bees/-2 Arrogance
Chern, -1 Fermentation, drunk and disorderly
Grawissen, +7 the usual
Ymon-Thal, +2 Life/+2 Death, protect army
Yir, -2 Sun/-2 Majesty, orbital laser bombardment
Timorin, +2 Drama/+2 War/-2 Fear, weaken natives
Kahar-Djin, -2 Paths/-2 Thresholds/-1 Travellers/+2 Unexplored
[roll8]

Chern (50 AP) - sprout the No Name Oasis (6 AP/3 DC) +4 Decay
[roll9]

Yir (50 AP) - bless the earth with Yir's Vessel (+2 Giant) (18 AP/14 DC) +2 Sun/+2 Majesty/+1 Perfection/+2 Stonesthroe Peaks
Grawissen, +7 the usual, poet
Alatadriel, -2 Fire, fear of fire
Chern, -4 Decay, stench
Petr, +2 Water/+2 Healing, innate healing and water resist
Timorin, -2 Drama, rebelliousness
Kahar-Djin, +2 Paths, empath
[roll10]

Dulnori (50 AP) - no action

Opulon (50 AP) - no action

Vreyalas (50 AP) - no action

[Garjel_blah]

Chapter 2, Turn 1 rerolls

Grawissen (50 AP) - revive the ceratopsians (16 AP/12 DC) +2 Mining/+2 Knowledge/+2 Architecture/+1 Writing
Petr, +2 Water/+2 Healing, vitality and pass Sanctuary's third gate
Chern, +4 Decay, let them eat fungus
Timorin, +2 Drama, innate honesty
Yir, +2 Sun/+2 Majesty, great beauty and love of the sun
Ymon-Thal, +2 Life
Alatadriel, -2 Foxes/-2 Fire/+2 Arrogance, fox fear and bloodlust raptors
Kahar-Djin, +2 Paths/+2 Thresholds/+1 Travellers, sense of direction and hospitality
Nestellbam, +4 Preservation/-2 Creation, memory of ancestry
Dulnori, +2 Fortune/+2 Ambition, gold scale and thrifty
[roll0]

Petr(50 AP) - sanctify Sanctuary (14 AP/10 DC) +2 Water/+2 Healing/+0 ???
Avestra, +2 Nature/+2 Birds, migratory doves for the Moonlake
Ymon-Thal, +2 Life/+2 Death, close to the Passing
Grawissen, +7 the usual/-2 Unknown
Timorin, +2 Drama, inspiring
Kahar-Djin, +2 Thresholds/+2 Paths/-2 Unknown, Passing path to Moonpool
Nestellbam, +4 Preservation
[roll1]

Nestellbam (50 AP) - prophecy the longevity of Theshana (24 AP/20 DC) +4 Preservation/+1 Treasures
Petr, +2 Water/+2 Healing, clean water source
Grawissen, +7 the usual
Alatadriel, +2 Fire/+2 Foxes, spread the prophecy
Yir, -2 Majesty/-1 Perfection/+2 Arrogance, soft take-over
Chern, +4 Decay, suppressed giant bloodline
Timorin, +2 Drama, gibberish
Kahar-Djin, +2 Thresholds, some verse
Dulnori, +2 Fortune/+2 Ambition/-2 Stability
[roll2]

Yir (50 AP) - bless the earth with Yir's Vessel (+2 Giant) (18 AP/14 DC) +2 Sun/+2 Majesty/+1 Perfection/+2 Stonesthroe Peaks
Grawissen, +7 the usual, poet
Alatadriel, -2 Fire, fear of fire
Chern, -4 Decay, stench
Petr, +2 Water/+2 Healing, innate healing and water resist
Timorin, -2 Drama, rebelliousness
Kahar-Djin, +2 Paths, empath
Dulnori, -2 Fortune/-2 Ambition, greed
[roll3]

Dulnori (50 AP) - create the Golden Dragons (12 AP/8 DC) +2 Ambition/+2 Fortune
[roll4]

[Garjel_blah]

Chapter 2, Turn 1 resolutions

Ymon-Thal (32 AP) - success
Dolf the Orcish trapper had been taking a crap just off the path from the marching column of imperial soldiers, when a bolt of intense solar energy struck him from the heavens, reducing him to heap of fertiliser. Dolf had died, like many mortals before him, but he was one of the first souls to reawaken in the Passing. He entered it through a spectral pathway, beneath a soaring murder of ominous-looking birds that nonetheless didn't bother him, and found himself in a strange, amorphous land. The only stable features were a river cutting through the middle of the land, and a pair of twin suns suspended high up in the sky; one soft and warm, the other harsh and glaring. He therefore had two shadows, one in the normal shape of his soul's "body", and the other holding a dribbling wine skin in slackened fingers. The land warped around him as the second ever soul entered the Passing. A diminutive woman, wearing a mask.
"Where are we?" she asked, and somehow Dolf understood her foreign tongue.
"I don't know," said Dolf.
Their fruitless conversation was interrupted by a third, rather more animated shadow-being, which waltzed up to the pair with a quiver of arrows clutched in its arms. An archery range solidified around them, and the shadow bowed.
"A contest of archery, to see who re-enters the world first?" it asked with a grin. Dolf and the masked pygmy looked at each other.
"Why not?" said Dolf, stringing his bow.
"You're on," said the masked pygmy.
In the end Dolf won, and - in the split second before his soul memory was suppressed by reincarnation - was surprised to learn that he would spend his next life on earth as a dinosaur.

Grawissen (34 AP) - success
The first of the ceratopsians form in the capitol building of Grawpolis. They were hardy, magnificent creatures, valuing knowledge and trade above all else, viewed by other mortals as honest and accommodating folk. In time they would travel the globe, both in the light of the warm sun and beneath the earth, spreading their benevolence to all peoples.
However, throw malign influences, another ancient species was resurrected that day. The raptors, opposite to the ceratopsians in near every way, their natural enemies. Compelled by insatiable bloodlust, the raptors would travel to bring woe instead of knowledge, destruction instead of trade, and deception instead of honesty.

Timorin (38 AP) - success
With the small town in the Tainted Lands dealt with, the Shadow Walkers moved on, ready to spread their mischief and radical freedom to other unwitting mortals. Soon the names of the five spirits would be known throughout the land.

Su'ule (38 AP) - success
The mightiest and wisest neanderthal from among the Wastelanders roared a mighty roar, transforming into a dragon and back again to flex their newfound power. This could change everything at the border with the Sugradi Empire...

Petr (36 AP) - success
A flock of doves alighted on the Moonpool, as Sanctuary accepted the holy blessing of Petr. In a land already bursting with wonder and beauty, the Moonpool would be the most inspiring feature of all. Interestingly, though this would only be known to the gods at the time, the Moonpool was fed by water from the River of Absolute Purity, an interplanar water source from the Passing. The pool now forms an unstable pathway to the Passing for both living and dead.

Avestra (42 AP) - success
Mortals marvelled at the first hard chunks of amberis that they manufactured, amazed at how ingredients so soft and abundant could come together to form something so precious. Those among the Crow People, the Starfolk, the Yith, and the Cult of the Mad God would begin to exploit this new material where they would have once used metal.

Kahar-Djin (30 AP) - success
Twelve paths were made, in all. Since the whole post is too large, I will put one half here and the other half in the next post.

A Path of Divinity is more than a simple system of magic: it is a way of life. One who chooses to travel a Path must advocate themselves entirely to it, never faltering, never wavering. As they travel their Path, their progress is marked by Thresholds, that can also be called Ranks. They begin at Threshold Zero, which usually has some requirement that already marks them as special. Reaching the final Threshold marks them as Masters. Few will ever reach that rank, in any Path, but those who do will hold tremendous knowledge or power.

A mortal can never travel more than one Path: A Path is all-consuming, shaping a mortal’s life and viewpoint. Most will never reach mastery in the single one they travel, striving to do so their entire life, and even those who do reach mastery cannot even begin to travel a different one.

On the other hand, an immortal who has mastered a Path can, if they so choose, travel a second one. This is a much harder task than travelling their first Path, as they need to reconcile their new Path with the one they have mastered. Thus, mastering a second Path can take them several lifetimes, if they can even do so at all.

Finally, owing to the divine spark within them, a demigod can choose to travel two Paths at once, and advance in them at a normal speed. However, the warring of two conflicting energies, ideologies and ways of life within them hinders them with a -1 domain until they master one of the two Paths. They do not suffer from this penalty if they only travel one Path, and if they master one Path, they can travel a second one at the same speed as the first, and without a penalty.

None can travel a third Path. This is a feat only a god could accomplish, and their powers are greater than any Path’s.

Kahar-Djin created four Paths of Divinity: The Path of Power, or Manipulation of the World, the Path of Discipline, or Manipulation of the Self, The Path of Sight, or Learning of the World, and the Path of Wisdom, or Learning of the Self. They are distinct, but they all share one restriction: Anyone who chooses to advocate themselves to one of Kahar-Djin’s Paths must stop using any form of Su Sorcery they’ve been using, and never use it again. This restriction is only for their four paths: The framework itself is neutral, and any Paths other gods create is not forced to have this restriction.


One who travels this Path believes that the true nature of divinity lies in a god’s power, their ability to manipulate the world around them. And so to approach this divinity they first seek to master the most clear and direct instrument of power there is: The weapon.

Threshold Zero: To reach this Threshold, a traveller must first master a weapon mundanely. The scroll details six weapons: The sword, the daggers, the war hammer, the shield and spear, the bow and arrow, and the “Cardinal Blade”: a huge slab of sharpened metal that would take great strength to even lift, let alone swing, and that would crush an opponent instead of cutting through them. To master a weapon, one must be able to wield it as an extension of one’s own body: This trains the mind to extend paths to the world outside its body and manipulate it, leading to the first Threshold.

First Threshold: In order to reach the first Threshold, one must have forged a path between their weapon and mind, and once within the weapon, learn to manipulate its core qualities, perfecting it. Any weapon of their favoured type becomes akin to a masterfully crafted version of itself while in their hands, regardless of its former quality, perfectly balanced, supernaturally sharp (for weapons where sharpness matters) and almost indestructible. Each weapon has something specific that must be achieved before a traveller can be considered to have reached this Threshold:


Sword: In the hands of a First Rank Traveller of Power, a sword becomes incredibly light, yet perfectly balanced. It shall be sharp and durable enough to cleanly slice through a sheet of metal with a single strike, without bending the metal and without the sword being scratched or the edge blunted.

Daggers: In the hands of a First Rank Traveller of Power, a dagger is nearly weightless, capable of deflecting an attack and yet also perfectly balanced for throwing. When thrown, it must be sharp enough to sink up to its hilt in a boulder, without being damaged.

War Hammer: In the hands of a First Rank Traveller of Power, a war hammer becomes a fearsome weapon. While it’s not sharp, its wielder must be able to change its weight mid-swing, so that it’s light as a feather when they wind up, strikes their opponent with impossible weight and momentum, then becomes light again after the impact.

Shield and Spear: In the hands of a First Rank Traveller of Power, a shield becomes an impenetrable barrier. It must be able to resist blows from other First Rankers without even being scratched or dented. The spear’s shaft must be unbreakable, and it’s head must be able to punch through metal with ease.

Bow and Arrow: In the hands of a First Rank Traveller of Power, a bow must be extremely supple, its string perfectly tightened, so its arrows are fired with great strength at impossible distances. The arrows themselves must be able to penetrate even the thickest of shields.

Cardinal Blade: In the hands of a First Rank Traveller of Power, a Cardinal Blade begins to approach its true nature. It becomes light, too light for its size, and it is sharpened to a fine edge. It can be used as a shield without scratching or denting. When needed, its weight can be increased tremendously, to deliver blows that can shake the earth.



Second Threshold: After reaching the first Threshold, a traveller must learn to extend their mind outside of the weapon’s physical threshold, wrapping their mind around it, to move it and manipulate it in more extreme ways. The way each weapon evolves becomes more unique in this threshold.


Swords: A Swordsmaster wields two blades: One in one hand, moving as fast as lightning, the other floating around them, dashing back and forth, deflecting attacks and slashing at their enemies. They can attack in a flurry of blows, faster than the eye can see.

Daggers: A Blur is a veritable storm of blades. Dozens of daggers float around them, protecting them from harm, firing themselves at enemies with but a thought, before returning to the storm. On a one-on-one fight, they can let loose a never-ending torrent of daggers.

War Hammer: A Crusher has replaced their old hammer with a massive one, that looks more like a siege weapon than an infantry one. Yet, they move it with surprising grace and speed, most of the weight held by their mind, even as they destroy all around them. They can also throw their hammer with great strength, and recall it to their hands.

Shield and Spear: The Warden now holds their spear in both hands, their shield floating around them, moving and warping to protect them from all angles. They can stretch and twist their spear, like an ever-lengthening snake.

Bow and Arrow: A Barrage can fire their bow with incredible speed. They can stretch their bow far beyond when any mundane bow would break, and fire many arrows with pinpoint accuracy, moving them in their flight to ensure that they always reach their target. Their arrows can also change shape and size mid-flight, allowing for a variety of different strategies.

Cardinal Blade: A Templar’s blade becomes a truly divine weapon in their hands, almost weightless and with an impossibly sharp edge. They can deal blows too fast for the weapon’s size, and move in slow, flowing motions that nevertheless cut their foes like they were paper, and they can move gracefully between the two. Sometimes, they let go of their sword and let it fight on its own, while they fight hand-to-hand.



Once the second Threshold has been passed, a traveller must expand their horizons. They must begin to master a second weapon, until they can wield it with the same skill with which they wield their first one. Once that has been achieved, they have reached the third Threshold.

Third Threshold: A traveller that has reached the third Threshold has mastered two weapons, and their mind is learning to forms paths with matter regardless of its shape. They can now manipulate any sort of non-living matter no larger than a small tent and no heavier than a suit of plate armour in the same way they manipulated weapons in the first Threshold, changing their qualities to make them stronger, weaker, heavier, lighter, and so on, as long as they’re touching it.

Fourth Threshold: A Fourth Rank Traveller of the Path of Power has fully mastered four weapons, and can switch between them at will in the heat of battle. The paths their mind forms have strengthened, to the point that they can manipulate any amount of non-living matter they are in contact with as though it were a first Threshold weapon, and can manipulate non-living matter no larger than a small tent and no heavier than a suit of plate armour in the same way they manipulate a second Threshold weapon, moving it and warping it with their mind. In addition, they can turn any solid matter into one of their favoured weapons.

Final Threshold: A Master of Power has not only mastered all six weapons, with the ability to switch freely between them, but can even mix and match them, and wield them all at once with the paths of their mind, turning them into a true one man army. These paths are so strong that they can manipulate all non-living matter like one of their weapons, as long as they or their weapons are touching it, and they can create their weapons from thin air. A Master of Power can also add new weapons to the Path; any future Master would not need to wield all possible weapons, just any six of them, though they are free to wield more if they so desire. Finally, a Master of Power is part of the Council of Masters, and when they die, their soul is exempt from the regular cycle of reincarnation.


One who travels this path believes that the true nature of divinity lies in a god’s discipline, their ability to always act according to their will, never on accident or unnecessarily, and to shape themselves however they desire. As such, they seek to sharpen their bodies and minds, to approach this divinity.

The scroll describes an intricate martial art named the “Way of the Cardinal Fist”. The martial art focuses on disturbing the Path of an assailant’s attack, and finding or creating weaknesses in their defence, before exploiting said weaknesses. Those trained in this martial art wear a sash from the shoulder to the hip, its colour denoting their expertise. The colours are matched to the Path’s Thresholds, and they are, in order:

Threshold Zero, White: A white sash denotes an initiate, the white representing their nature as a “blank slate” where the Way can be imprinted. One who wishes to travel the Path of Discipline, must, at this time, undertake a Vow of Silence, that is not fulfilled until they advance to the first Threshold by obtaining the blue sash. It usually takes five years to obtain it.

First Threshold, Blue: One who wears a blue sash has mastered disrupting the Path of an opponent’s attack, much like the waves of the ocean can disrupt a vessel’s way. This involves not just redirecting an attack, but also avoiding it, dodging it entirely, moving so it strikes a more resistant part of your body, and even striking at the attacking weapon. A traveller at this Threshold has found that the vow of Silence, coupled with the intense training of the Way, has strengthened their body and mind beyond what is humanly possible. Their reflexes have become lightning-fast, and their bodies are resistant enough to be unharmed by any blow that doesn’t strike them completely head-on, no matter the weapon.

To advance to the second Threshold, a traveller must continue to learn the Way, while their bodies are at all times bound with tremendous weights. This will strengthen them, while also ensuring every move they make is careful and deliberate. Obtaining the red sash usually takes five more years.

Second Threshold, Red: A red sash marks their wearer as an instrument of death, the crimson of their sash denoting their ability to harm. They now know how to find and exploit the weaknesses in an opponent’s defence, with lightning-fast bones that can easily shatter bones, kill, or simply incapacitate. A traveller at this Threshold has found that the intense training of the Way, under the duress of being constantly weighed down, has strengthened them beyond normal human limits. Their blows, unarmed, can shatter boulders, and they can move almost faster than the eye can see. They have also began to detect the life force in and around their bodies, though they cannot harness it yet.

To advance to the third Threshold, a traveller must obtain the black sash. They must also learn to open their body’s natural Thresholds, allowing life force to flow in and out of them freely. To do this, they must begin a cycle of fasting it. At first breaking it every seven days, their fasting must lengthen as time goes on, and they attune more and more to the life force around them. Obtaining the black sash usually takes ten years.

Third Threshold, Black: A black sash denotes a complete mastery of the mundane aspects of the Way. One who is not a traveller cannot advance any further in the Way, but even a mundane black sash is a force to be reckoned with, a whirlwind in the battlefield, tempered by self-control. A traveller at this Threshold no longer needs to eat or rest. They are completely tireless, able to act for days and even weeks without pause. To achieve the fourth Threshold, they must continue to study the Way. No additional requirement is present, but the training to obtain the golden sash is much more extreme than the ones before, and they will be wounded, broken and mended many times. From this moment on, there’s no telling how long it’ll take to advance, and many won’t have the strength of mind necessary.

Fourth Threshold, Gold: The golden sash represents the traveller’s ascent beyond humanity, into something approaching the divine. One who wears this sash no longer needs to worry about wounds. Their body has become as hard as stone, and even if something manages to harm them, they can recover from that damage in an instant. Their actions are completely under their control, perfectly coordinated no matter the situation. The way to the final Threshold, however, will be brutal, twisting and bending their bodies in unnatural ways, as they seek to reshape the Thresholds of their selves. Many are simply unable to do so, their minds clinging to a specific form. However, those who can leave their original selves behind, and craft their own sense of Self, will reach the true mastery of the Path of Discipline.

Final Threshold, Gold and Blue: Blue in the centre, the edges trimmed with gold. This sash represents the traveller’s near-divinity, the return to blue to mean that their body, their very self, is now completely under the power of their mind, flowing from one shape to another at their will. Travellers at this Threshold can take on any form they desire. They are detached from the normal laws of biology, and do not age unless they desire to do so. A Master of Discipline is part of the Council of Masters. If they somehow die, their soul is exempt from the normal cycle of reincarnation.


One who travels this Path believes that the true nature of divinity lies in a god’s sight, their ability to see all and know all. As such, they seek to learn more about the world around them and deepen their understanding of it, so as to approach this divinity.

This scroll contains few specific instructions, primarily listing the five Thresholds. Followers of the Path of Sight must explore and figure the world out on their own, not follow some carefully curated guide. It does, however, contain a rather long epistemological treatise, that reveals little, but allows a traveller’s mind to craft a way to discover the secrets of the world.

Threshold Zero: In order to embark upon this path, a traveller must possess some manner of eyewear or viewing aid of their own creation, made at least partly out of magicite. The scroll contains no instructions for how to build any such device, as the traveller must figure it out on their own, to show their curiosity and ingenuity. However, it does mention that, properly crafted, it will show the world in much starker contrast than even perfect eyesight, and reveal secrets hidden in plain sight.

First Threshold: A traveller at the first Threshold has begun to unravel the secrets of the world. Their knowledge of their field of science is above the average for their age, on par with the leading scholars of their nation. On top of which, they have begun to obtain mystic knowledge on sympathetic paths, that allow them to cause changes in one object by physically manipulating a similar one. At this Threshold, they’re limited to fairly small amounts of non-living matter with a very strong connection, and similar sizes. For instance, they could split a small rock in half, and cause one of the halves to float in the air by holding the other in their hands, above the ground. This might seem rather small and unimpressive, but with their knowledge and ingenuity, it and similar effects should allow them to create many wondrous gadgets. Their eyepiece allows them to gauge these paths.

Second Threshold: A traveller at the second Threshold has dug deeper into the secrets of the world. Their scientific knowledge has advanced beyond the greatest mundane scholars of their nation, and is on par with the greatest of their field. Their control over sympathy has increased, now allowing them to use weaker paths, like material, shape, or even colour, as well as using smaller quantities of matter to control larger amounts. The scroll, however, declares at this point that no traveller can advance further by remaining in their home town. At this point, they must leave to travel the world.

Third Threshold: A traveller at the third Threshold has not deepened their knowledge of the mysteries of the world, but rather, broadened it. They have travelled to many places and seen many wondrous sights, and spoken with the greatest minds of their age. They can now use sympathy not just to enact changes on the world, but to project their sight towards far-off lands and objects, as long as they hold something connected to them. This requires the use of their eyepiece.

Fourth Threshold: A traveller at the fourth Threshold has surpassed the knowledge of even the greatest minds of their age. As for their use of sympathy, they can now perform it even with living beings, though they require a significant connection to them, such as a vial of their blood, or a body part at least as large as a finger. Their control over non-living matter is unmatched, using even the weakest paths for tremendous effect.

Final Threshold: To a traveller at the fifth Threshold, the secrets of the world are laid bare before them. Their scientific knowledge is incredibly advanced, and few things are outside their purview. One thing that seems to be consistently outside their reach, however, are gods and divinity, though the scroll, of course, does not mention this. They are also able to use sympathy on living beings with a far weaker path, sometimes even with non-living matter. Finally, a Master of Knowledge is a member of the Council of Masters, and when they die, their souls are exempt from the regular cycle of reincarnation.


One who follows this Path believes that the true nature of divinity lies in a god’s wisdom, their ability to know themselves, to act in the best possible way, to tell right from wrong and good from evil. As such, they seek to deepen their understanding of themselves, and, as such, of those around them, so as to approach this divinity.

This is the most esoteric of Kahar-Djin’s four Paths, the scroll itself granting little guidance, as this is a very personal Path. Like Kahar-Djin’s other Paths, it forbids its travellers from practising Su Sorcery, but the interpretation for why this is is up to them.

Threshold Zero: Anyone can embark upon the Path of Wisdom, as all sentient begins have some understanding of themselves, and a belief of right and wrong. One who follows this Path must spend a significant amount of time in meditation, seeking to understand themselves, their desires and motivations, to strip away the lies they believe about themselves and all the false justifications for their actions. Only then will they reach the first Threshold.

First Threshold: One who has reached the first Threshold knows themselves far more deeply than most people, understading what they truly desire, and why they desire it. This certainty makes them extremely resistant to any supernatural attempts to control their minds or coerce their actions. Indeed, only the direct intervention of a god could do so. To continue their Path, they must dig deeper into their souls, to meet their true selves, the core that makes them who they are.

Second Threshold: At the second Threshold, the traveller has knowledge of this true self, this fundamental aspect of their being. They can reassert this true nature to dispel any supernatural influence explicitly targeting them, such as enchantments and curses. Once again, this resistance is overcome by the direct intervention of gods.

Third Threshold: At the third Threshold, a traveller has learned, through their true self, to get glimpses of the true selves of others. This allows them to learn the desires and motivations of those around them, which they might be able to use to change their mind on other matters. Of course, this isn't mind control. They can't change anyone's true nature. The nature of divine beings, such as gods and demigods, is beyond their understanding.

Fourth Threshold: One who has reached the fourth Threshold has greatly deepened their understanding of the true selves of those around them. They can entern a deeply meditative state in which all around them are laid bare. This has the side effect of letting them predict, with startling accuracy, the actions of those around them, and thus, react before others have begun to act, or sometimes even before they know what they're going to do. Yet again, gods and demigods cannot be predicted in such a way.

Final Threshold: A Master of Wisdom completely understands both their true selves, and that of those around them. They have theorems and postulates about the natures of right and wrong, of good and evil, that grow close to the truth. Any objective they set, any result they desire, they know exactly what to do to reach it. However, this requires complete understanding, and so even the tiniest spark of divinity might stump them. As such, the knowledge of how to obtain their objectives does not, cannot take into account the actions of those with such a spark. This includes, of course, gods and demigods, but also other Masters, and Su Speakers (also called freeform sorcerers). Finally, a Master of Wisdom is a member of the Council of Masters, and when they die, their souls are exempt from the regular cycle of reincarnation.

Kahar-Djin distributed knowledge of his paths around the world as follows: the Path of Power to the Sinalese, the Path of Discipline to Bron's missionaries, the Path of Knowledge to the Prehist, and the Path of Wisdom to the Boa Jungle missionaries.

Nestellbam (26 AP) - success
The prophecy of Theshana was known all throughout the Stonesthroe Mountains, and even the wider world. Everyone knew the legend of distant Theshana, walls holding out against an overwhelming force of giant invaders. The prophecy was clear on some things; Theshana would only fall if its people stopped believing in the value of community, they would be fed by a fresh water spring for as long as they held, and though giants would integrate into the community their bloodline would never fully assimilate the population. However, parts of the prophecy were less clear, and obfuscated the core message for those who would try to unravel the weakness of Theshana. Bears became a part of Sugradi military strategy, while fish were banned.

Alatadriel (32 AP) - success
Though they were beset by rampant drunkenness and orbital laser bombardment from the sun itself, the Indariel Empire marched on. Poor resource management among the native tribes forced many to capitulate and surrender immediately, but some fought back fiercely against what they perceived to be (perhaps rightly) blatant invaders. However, over the course of a year the force managed to reconnoitre the Three Deserts, establish trade routes with inhabited parts of the Kanto and Toran regions, and ended up outright occupying the majority of the Great Orcishtal Desert. Scouts in the No Name Dunes even stumbled upon an oasis, which had a population of one, and was therefore deemed of low priority.

Chern (44 AP) - success
Water gushed from deep beneath of desert surface, sprouting greenery and fledgling palm trees so rapidly that they might as well have always been here. When Mila woke up and drank deep from the water, it took her a long time to realise that she wasn't experiencing a happy hallucination.

Yir (32 AP) - success
At the highest point of the Holy High, Yir manifested on earth for the first time in the form of Yir's Vessel. It was a glorious specimen, all shining armour and majestic light. It had great power, ranging from sensing emotion to healing to water immunity. However, all was not as Yir had planned. Something in his vessel resisted his will. It wanted to write, to dance, to make love! It shied away from the fiery light of Yir in fear, tormented by dreams of flame. It wanted to fulfil its own ambitions! And... What on earth is that smell?
Yir's Vessel, +2 Giants/-2 Petulance

Dulnori (44 AP) - failure
Though Dulnori had created a beautiful sculpture of a dragon from pure gold, it did not have the spark of life that he'd hoped. He would have to find some other way to maintain his authority in absence.

Opulon (50 AP) - no action

Vreyalas (50 AP) - no action

[Garjel_blah]

In addition to these four Paths made by Kahar-Djin, the rest of the pantheon created eight more Paths: Chern's Path of Squalor, Transcendence of the Self; Yir's Path of Perfection, Transcendence of the World; Ymon-Thal's Path of the Soul, Memory of the Self; Avestra's Path of Nature, Memory the World; Alatadriel's Dance of Flame, Expression of the Self; Petr's Path of Reflection, Expression of the World; Timorin's Path of Emotion, Application of the Self; and Grawissen's Path of Knowledge, Application of the World.

One who travels this Path has been brought low by the cruelties of life, and has from their hardship discovered that the true nature of divinity lies in a god's detachment from the limitations of the mortal form. Though all things must die and decay, the potentiality of a mortal can never truly fade so long as a soul remains to drive them. Therefore the practitioners of the Path of Squalor seek to hold themselves together through sheer force of will and mortal tenacity.

Threshold Zero: the requirement to attain this threshold is simple; the mortal must be in some way permanently diseased or disabled. Cripples, lepers, the blind, the malnourished, the unsound of mind, and many others who suffer are eligible for the Path of Squalor.

First Threshold: at this point the traveller has learned to overcome their ailment through sensible self-medication and a disciplined lifestyle, to the point where they can lead a normal life. The crippled learn to move unimpeded with the tools at their disposal, the lepers keep themselves bandaged and clean, the blind hone their other senses, and so on. This kind of self sufficiency is an achievement worthy of its own threshold, and indeed many will cease travelling the path here now that their ailment has been overcome. However, there is more for those who seek it.

Second Threshold: those who have adapted to the limitations of their body, but regardless continue to pursue the path, begin to develop robustness against further ailments. Poisons, diseases, injuries, and sustained poverty no longer harm the traveller. They can eat anything and live anywhere, without suffering as they once would have. This threshold cannot be attained through a sensible lifestyle alone, one must seek out ailments and apply them in small doses to increase resilience. Activities like flagellation, fasting, and the limited consumption of poisonous or diseased substances are all necessary to reach this threshold.

Third Threshold: this threshold comes fairly quickly and naturally after the second threshold; now, instead of merely being able to live with suffering, the traveller thrives in it. The poisoned grow stronger, the diseased fitter, the addled more focussed. At this threshold one gains the ability to perform a blood sacrifice, spilling their own blood to become temporarily superhuman.

Fourth Threshold: a sacrifice is required to reach this threshold. The traveller must intentionally inflict another permanent ailment upon themselves, something that even their supernatural robustness won't help them to recover from. This time, however, their damage is compensated for by a spiritual replacement. Someone missing a hand gains the use of a single spectral hand to move things telekinetically, someone blinded gains an uncanny sight that surpasses normal vision, missing a leg might grant the ability to levitate, and so on. Further sacrifices can be made for the same effect.

Final Threshold: the traveller has now sacrificed so much that a normal mortal would be as good as dead. But this traveller is no mere mortal any more. The traveller may now forgo their mortal body entirely, projecting a wholly spiritual manifestation of themselves that has all their sacrificed abilities while being immune to the effects of the physical world. Once their physical body finally dies, the transcended soul is then free to do as it wills, exempt from the cycle of reincarnation similarly to the other paths (not sure if these guys would be on the council too, I'll let Kahar-Djin decide that).

Those who travel this Path believe that the true power of divinity lies in a god’s perfect natures, so immutable that the world cannot affect them and instead shifts to their will. To come close to the divine in their true eternal perfection is impossible, but to achieve a small sliver of it on this world is possible through constant judgement of one's self and those around them and perfection in as many things as possible. Those that walk this path may use magic, seeing it as any other talent to be perfected, but may never walk another Path again after starting to walk this one (for all other Paths are imperfect and flawed), even attempting to walk along this path strips those immortal masters of other paths of their talents in what they had learned; however, gods may walk along the path of perfection as well as other paths as normal for them (though it does them little good).

Threshold Zero: Those that would walk the path of perfection must believe that they need to be perfect, must be perfect, that the flaws of the world can be used against itself, and must have some talent that they are currently perfecting. Singing, swordsmanship, dancing, music script writing, anything that can be perfected qualifies. Other than this there are no requirements.

First Threshold: The perfectionist at this stage is able to see the flaws of those around them and in themselves, only a demi-god or full god being too naturally perfect to be the target of their cynical eyes. As long as the perfectionist has some degree of skill in any broad field (music, combat, magic, paths, ect), they may exploit the flaws of others around them with a simple glare to make them fail in any attempt (voices cracks, swords miss, spells fizzle to no effect, ect); however, a large enough gap in skill can make it more difficult for the perfectionist to disrupt (using paths as an example, anyone of the third threshold would probably be too skilled for a perfectionist of the first to disrupt).

Perfectionist of this threshold also show skill in many mundane or magical fields (though not whole schools of magic), never faltering in knowing what they need to do to obtain more skill in whatever field of their choice.

Second Threshold: Those perfectionists of the second threshold have truly looked upon their bodies and have perfected their physical forms. They've reach the height of normal physical strength and speed their bodies can produce, gone beyond that and have over time improved their own physical features to be the height of what they consider perfectly handsome/beautiful. The perfectionist's body is so perfect that the world refuses to let it be harmed by anyone. Those wishing to harm the perfectionist find it hard, even past their glare, for a shining light appears at the last second protecting them from any attack that targets them (attacks not targeting them are far more effective). Disease, scars, and permanent injuries are outright impossible to inflict upon a living perfectionist unless the person doing so is at the height of mortal power (masters of a school of Su sorcery, masters of a path) or are a divine.

Those that would try to manipulate the exceedingly large egos of the perfectionist of this stage find it impossible unless they are a divine being or complete master of all the schools of Su sorcery.

Third Threshold: The perfectionists of the third threshold have set exceedingly high standards for themselves and have yet to give up or lower these standards for years. Most show a high degree of skill in many skills or fields of knowledge, but that is not an actual requirement, only the move towards perfection for years is.

At this stage the world in awe actively starts to suit the perfectionist's needs, letting the perfectionist manipulate the external qualities of the world and the minds of people around them. Matter near the perfectionist may have it's outer properties changed at will (an example might be making an apple glow or light on fire), and people have their opinions subtly shift towards the perfectionist's far more easily and quickly that could otherwise be accomplished.

To reach the next threshold the perfectionist must proclaim that they are a master in multiple skills or fields of study (at least three). Anyone else that would be a master in any of the same fields must be confronted by the perfectionist and proven inferior for at least a year before they properly obtain the abilities of the fourth threshold. While being proven inferior at any particular moment does not strip the perfectionist of their power, not focusing on reaching a state where they are superior will strip the perfectionist of their power; it does however hinder the progression of their path (they cannot reach the fourth threshold until they are superior in what they proclaimed mastery in). The only ones that a perfectionist may allow to be superior to them in any particular field they have proclaimed mastery in are immortals, fifth ranked perfectionists, demi-gods, and gods.

Fourth Threshold: Perfectionists that have reached the fourth threshold have become something greater than most mortals, something close to the divine. Something so perfect no longer needs to worry about wounds, the glowing (literally glowing) ego of the perfectionist absolutely refuses to let anything harm them, and even if something manages to harm them, they can recover from that damage in an instant. Their actions are completely under their control, perfectly coordinated no matter the situation.

While the other thresholds were obtained through the improvement of the self, only through teaching at least three others to be masters of what they study while remaining superior can a perfectionist move to the fifth threshold. Many perfectionist cannot bring themselves to teach others in fear of teaching someone that may be superior to them at something, but those with true confidence, wisdom, and skill will persevere.

Fifth Threshold: These semi-divine beings have perfected the mastery of their own egos, no longer needing to prove themselves to others and actually lose the glow of their ego (though the damage negating effect remains). Perfectionists of this level have such control over their surroundings that it is like they are tiny gods playing in sand, the laws of reality simply being what they wish it to be; however this only applies to the immediate area of the master perfectionist and any changes they make fade in short time (immediately disappearing if they die). Masters of a school of sorcery, masters of a path, immortals, and divine beings cannot be directly affected by this. Perfectionists of this threshold are only affected by age if they wish it, and their souls disappear when they die (to Yir they say).


Those who travel this Path have understood that life and death are not opposites and that a soul is the same whether living or dead.

Threshold Zero: In order to embark on the Path of the Soul the traveler must have a near-death experience — close enough to almost enter the Passing — in order to fully realize how small a change death truly is. Most travelers experience this and then decide the follow the Path but there are those who intentionally try to achieve it. Few survive.
While it is technically possible to walk the Path for an entirely new soul, in reality it's near impossible since they lack the memories of previous lives to guide them.

First Threshold: As someone reaches the First Threshold the barriers separating their souls' different lives begin to weaken. The traveler usually start having dreams and flashbacks about any previous lives and time spent in the Passing. At first, they are more symbolic than literal and by focusing on these half-memories during mediation a traveler is able to interpret them better and better.

Second Threshold: By the time a traveler reaches the Second Threshold their ability to interpret memories of the past is almost perfected and the memories have become much clearer and less symbolic. The dreams and visions come more and more often, though the traveler still lacks control over what is shown.

Third Threshold: A traveler passed the Third Threshold interprets their memories of past lives as easily as those of their current life and by meditating they are able to search their past lives for answers to specific questions.

Fourth Threshold: Travelers who have reached the Fourth Threshold remember all of their lives with perfect clarity. They are also able to leave their mortal bodies through deep meditation and briefly glimpse into the Passing and speak to its inhabitants. With practice, it is possible to reach specific souls.

Final Threshold: In addition to remembering all of their earlier lives travelers at the end of the Path can recall and use any skill they possessed in a earlier life, including physical skills and even sorcery.
Those who reach the Final Threshold can also travel freely between the world of the living and the world of the dead, though they leave their body behind if they enter the Passing and if left for too long it may die. If that happens the traveling soul is left to roam the world and the Passing, neither dead nor alive. Such a traveler can speak to both living and dead but never physically influence either world.




Assist Kahar-Djin with +2 nature to create the Path of Nature.

The Path of Nature

Those who travel this Path believe that the true power of divinity lies in the realisation of the oneness of the self and the universe and one's connection with all living beings. Rather than being encoded in a scroll, the path is available globally through the treewhisper network, with Avestra's Perch being the ultimate source. It can also be transmitted orally by practitioners. Unlike the four paths of Kahar-Djin, its practice is compatible with su-sorcery.

Threshold Zero:

To enter threshold zero, the traveller must possess at least a basic fluency in treewhispering. This can either be acquired at a young age by immersion in a forest environment, or by diligent study later in life. Furthermore, the traveller must take an oath to only take life for nourishment or in self-defence and to otherwise live in harmony with nature.

First Threshold:

Upon reaching the first threshold, the traveller is able to use advanced treewhispering skills, such as passing messages through a forest, and also can communicate with animals on a basic level through body language and imitating cries.

Second Threshold:

Upon reaching the second threshold, the traveller is able to communicate with most animals as if they were their own species. The utility of this can depend the intellect and social abilities of the species in question.

Third Threshold:

Upon reaching the third threshold, the traveller has the ability to go into a trance and let their soul temporarily enter the local treewhisper network. Animals will now usually follow the adherent's bidding, provided they have the intellectual capacity to understand the instruction. Additionally, at this level the traveller will begin to regain fragmented memories of any past lives, though in an indistinct manner.

Fourth Threshold:

Upon reaching the fourth threshold, the traveller's soul is able to stay indefinitely within the treewhisper network and travel long distances, provided that their physical body is nourished and watered by a willing volunteer. All wild animals will instinctively avoid harming such a practitioner and some may even spontaneously offer aid in times of need.

Final Threshold:

Upon achieving the final threshold, the traveller will come to realise their true place in the universe and the circle of life. They will remember their past lives in great detail and be able to draw on knowledge from those lives. All living beings will be soothed by their calming presence, although strong-willed mortals can resist this.

When the traveller feels the end of their journey drawing near, they will begin fasting in preparation for the final ceremony. They will be placed beneath a tree, where upon death, their soul will be able to roam freely across the treewhisper network, providing a source of guidance for future generations.


The Dance of Flame, and Embracing Happiness:
Those who follow ‘The Dance’ embrace the beauty and fleeting nature of a flickering flame. Throwing their body and soul into vibrant, electric dances they can harness the power of fire both inwardly and outwardly.

Dancers live by a simple creed. It still lies etched into the stone where the first dancer was said to have been met with a divine vision of a heavenly flame in the ballet school of Al-Setor. ‘Life is sacred. Everyone should enjoy theirs’. Dancers usually travel in small groups putting on traveling shows to gain money as they expound on their philosophy of a happy life. At the core, nearly all dancers advocate a form of hedonism, but these can vary drastically from dancer to dancer. From advocating an austere life of simple pleasures to believing a life of virtue would cause the greatest happiness as you pursue higher mental pleasures, to advocating that seeking the most happiness for the world will not only create a better world but the greatest happiness for you.

Threshold Zero: Alatdriel would not give the power of flame to anyone. Three requirements are needed to understand the dance along with abstaining from Su Sorcery.
The first is the most obvious, the outward element of The Dance is simply to be a master of dancing. The Dance does not care for your style as long as you throw yourself fully into it.
Next are two inward elements, the first is to Embrace Happiness. This more or less means that you must have a peaceful soul and able to appreciate the value of life, a smile, a child and all the good things in the world.
The second is a test of self-discipline so that the flames will not consume you. You must take a red hot brand press into your skin creating a solid and strong marking somewhere on your body.

First Threshold: Gaining mastery over the flame of life, a dancer can use the oxygen in their own blood to fuel gouts of flames they can expel from their own body with little harm to themselves. While it is a most remarkable technique it is only possible due to an intense training regimen that each dancer must take before they can even set a single light in their thumb. During this period, they learn a breathing technique where even a shallow breath can bring oxygen to replenish the depleted oxygen in their cells so that they may continue their dance throughout the night.

Second Threshold: At this level, the body and soul start to emulate the sacred flame. Outwardly, your body can move faster than the human eye can follow, and with a flexibility that outpaces any mundane contortionist. The body itself may flicker and lengthen beyond its normal limits for moments before returning back to normal. Along with this, they can control the color and shape of the flames they expel.
In their quest to live a Happy Life, Dancers have learned to ignore or weather various painful but inevitable aspects of life. Their body is more resistant to blows and the fire burning within can nourish them for several days without food, water, or sleep without any ill effects. Their body is at a constant 100 degrees without any negative side effects.

Third Threshold: Through self-discipline, training and learning to share happiness with others a greater understanding of The Sacred flame allows you to control the size, heat, intensity, speed, and direction of not only your own flame but others around them. They are however bound by fuel as any other flame would be.
The fire burning within burns stronger than ever. Through concentration and rapid movement, a Flame Dancer can set their flesh ablaze with no ill effects, with the same effort they would be able to boil any liquids they are touching including the liquids of their own body.

Fourth Threshold: Your flame burns at 10% the strength of The Heavenly Goddess. You can ignore pesky things like the need for fuel as you can sustain the flame with your will alone.
The Fire within is not just burning but has become a quintessential part of you. You’re not only able to set yourself ablaze but able to turn parts of yourself into fire itself at a moment’s notice.

Final Threshold: The fire within slowly overtakes your body as you realize that you have little need for one of flesh. You transcend such petty things as you become a spirit of pure flame burning at 33% of the Strength of Alatadriel. If a Flame Dancer ever reaches this point they have achieved true immortality so long as their peaceful soul subsists, and typically spend their days inspiring other hopeful artists.


The world is like water. Ever changing, ever flowing from something to the next. Followers of the path of reflection believes that the world and the divine are the ripples upon a surface of a pond. Expanding ever outwards, changing as the ripples meet, and ultimately, by reflecting upon all the changes, one can trace everything back to the true source of all things. Travelling the path requires tasks of mental, physical and emotional discipline. It requires a sacrifice of the self as an immutable constant, and instead requires one to view themselves as an extension of a whole, and a mirror reflecting life.

Threshold Zero: To begin walking the path, the disciple must embrace the philosophy of a hated person. The most grave of social sins. Reflecting the truth as accurately as possible. They must embrace honesty and never knowingly tell a lie. They must elaborate on matters as well as they can, and do their utmost to ensure their intentions are genuinely understood. No lies by omission, or by vague wording. They are not required to answer fully. They may still refuse to answer a statement. But they may not put their own well-being ahead of the truth.



Threshold One: Those who have embraced the costs of honesty, who understands the difference between what is good and what is pleasant, and who is willing to continue the path regardless of these costs, will now find that their devotion is being rewarded. They can pick up the faults in written words. They catch the inconsistencies between that which is spoken, and that which is done. They can't be lied to, not even unintentionally. They always know when someone is hiding something from them. Their flexibility against the harsh lessons of truth have also given them new insights into the Su'Sorcery of Water. While words may never hurt them, sticks and stones may still do harm. Water will help divert those blows.

To continue the path, one must travel the world, see other cultures and gain an understanding of them. This requires spending at least five years among cultures not ones own.



Threshold Two: After spending years experiencing different cultures, the path of reflection teaches one to not just understand, but reflect those cultures. A traveller can act in ways that make them undistinguishable from any culture they've lived among for more than a year. They also become skilled at impersonating others, reflecting their mannerisms, speechpatterns and quirks. The world around them also begins to slightly, subtly, reflect upon them. If they are sad, those around them feel sadder, and if they are happy, those around them seem happier.

Their Su'Sorcery is also strengthened, now allowing the water to reflect force visited upon them.

To reach the third Threshold, they must create a ripple, some kind of action that extends outwards effecting the world around them, and then follow at least one of it's consequences for five years.



Threshold Three: After watching how one action has consequences that ripple eternally through the world, it becomes possible to much more reliably ensure the future one wants. The right word in the right place can stop armies in their tracks, topple empires, and avert wars before they even begin. And at the third threshold, those who follow the path of reflection have become really good at knowing what those words are. By telling the right truth to the right person, they can create a chain of consequences that eventually lead to their predicted, desired future. Divine intervention, as well as cataclysmic events that drastically shake up the status quo of the world can throw this chain out of alignment.

Their Su'Sorcery can now perfectly reflect what's done to them back to the world around. If they are healed, they may let those around them be healed too. If they are hurt, all their enemies are hurt the same way.

To reach the fourth Threshold, they must revolutionize the world. Something they do must change the majority of the world in some drastic way.



Threshold Four: The world is a puppet, and the walker of reflection is the puppetmaster who controls all things mundane. They weave plans within plans to forge a future of their own choosing. They understand how all that is mundane work together in an intricate system. Their understanding of the laws of reality means that their plans can only be thrown off course by the direct intervention of a God or someone with even greater powers of reflection in the world. And as the world starts to reflect their desires, weak souls near them start to reflect their souls more fully. Just by their sheer presence does the walker of reflection inspire empathy, compassion, and understanding of others.

Even a walker who has only minimal experience with Su'Sorcery can be considered a Master of the School of Water. Water is a mirror which reflects the pure soul of the Reflection walker.

To reach the fifth Threshold, they must complete the cycle and return home where they first began the path of Reflection. There they must locate their old home, their old social bonds and culture, and what might at one point have been their life, and they must meditate on how the journey has changed them, on who they are, and on who they could have been.


Threshold Five: At the fifth and final Threshold, the barrier between self and the not-self break. Like water, the walker of reflections flows to fill the cracks in society, perfectly able to adept to any and every role that they need to fulfill. They become a rarefied mirror that reflects those around them. They can perfectly mimic any non-divine action. They can perfectly emulate the look and build of any person. And without practice, if they see someone do something once, they will be able to do the same thing.

+2 Drama, -2 Fear
The Path of Emotion is about embracing your true self. Those who follow this path will come to understand their wants and desires better than anyone else. With understanding will come the need to embrace one's self. Once embraced, potential is limitless.

Threshold Zero: To begin down this path, one must openly wear a piece of jewelry made of magicite. This may be a ring or a necklace or bracelet. It can be anything really as long as it's magicite, worn, and visible. This becomes tied to them and their emotions. It will change color depending on the wearer's emotions. This reveals how they truly deal, whether they want it revealed or not. Coming to terms with this is part of the process.

Threshold One: Someone at the first threshold is in touch with their emotions and their causes. They no longer feel any shame or desire to hide an emotional response. On top of this they begin to be able to see the emotional aura around others. They become adept at being able to interpret someone's true emotions, despite any facade they may put on. This makes them adept manipulators, counselors, negotiators, etc.

Threshold Two: A true understanding of emotion is needed to reach the second threshold. Someone who has reached this threshold begins to understand the links people have with eachother and things. They begin to see the aural ties that tie people together. Anyone they see who has powerful emotions about an object or person nearby is apparent to them. They know what is important to themselves and others, able to see if people hate eachother or love eachother, or envy eachother with nothing more than their proximity. This reaches down beyond surface emotions, allowing for them to see these connections, even if the people are not aware of the other being there.

Third Threshold: At the third Threshold can begin to change emotions in others. Once they reach this level of understanding, they are able to intensify or weaken emotions. They cannot yet turn love into hate or in any way alter the nature of the emotions, but rather changes the intensity. They can make a few lesser or a joy greater through sheer will.

Fourth Threshold: At this point, their connection to emotion is so strong that they may turn love into hate, lust into fear, curiousity into apathy. Their manipulation of their own emotions and that of others becomes so great that often, people don't realize the change occurred. Most see such changes and assume that their hate had masked their love for fear of being hurt or whatever other reasons people often hide their emotions.

Fifth Threshold: At the final Threshold, the practitioner becomes more aware of how the soul plays a role in emotion. They can see emotions so plainly that they can look back to the root of such things, spanning lifetimes if needed. They may see how their last life ended in their drowning, to explain their fear of water in this life or that two people had been married in a past life and that is why they are drawn to eachother in this one. It may also be within the life.


Those who decide to walk this path understand the importance of preserving the knowledge. A dedication to study, documentation, and discovery of the beauties of all things that have exist, what’s happening right now and possible futures.

This path does not discourage studying of Su magic or the other paths because they too are also knowledge.

Threshold Zero: The curiosity of basic study, an understanding of civilizations, and a desire to fill in the blanks of lost knowledge.

First Threshold: This is reached when you start to dedicate your life to discovering the mysteries of the world. This makes you more knowledgeable of mistakes from learning from them.

Second Threshold: this is reached when you start to understand much of other civilizations besides your own. This often gives you advantages when talking to other people from other civilizations. Giving you knowledge of how they tick.

Third threshold: this is when you start to hone your knowledge even more and start to achieve new knowledge.

Forth threshold: we start to have a full knowledge of not only today’s life but the entire history of the planet. This helps you give you full knowledge of how nature works, the disasters of the past and how they can be prevented in the future.

Final threshold: you have become a wise Sage. All come to you for your wisdom. You understand more than even the gods about the world. History refuses to take you as you allowed to live for as long as you seek new knowledge.

These Paths were distributed thus: the Path of Squalor to Mila in the No Name Desert, the Path of Perfection to the Sugradi giants, the Path of the Soul to the Yith, the Path of Nature to the Crow People, the Dance of Fire to the Sinalese, the Path of Reflection to the people of Sanctuary, the Path of Emotion to the Cult of the Mad God, and the Path of Knowledge to the Ceratopsians.

Chapter 2, Turn 2

Okay guys, I'm going to make some changes here. Since scry is underpowered, I've decided to make all scry actions a secondary action, so you can do them at the same time as a primary action. Here's the new table:

Undetectable actions

Free/Instant: manifest avatar, teleport avatar, shapeshift avatar, interact with the world, perform inconsequential/non-divine magic, attempt to remotely contact other gods - general fluff and flavour basically.

1 AP/0 DC: influence one mortal (significantly alter the course of their life by compelling them to action, altering their body, killing them, etc.).

2 AP/1 DC: influence a small group of mortals (~10), influence a small landmark or room, change the weather in a village-sized area.

4 AP/2 DC: influence a large group of mortals (~100), influence a large landmark or building.

6 AP/3 DC: influence a village of mortals (~1000), influence a village-sized area, change the weather in a city-sized area.

8 AP/4 DC: change the weather in a state-sized area, create a basic living species (plant, fungus, micro-organisms), create a basic non-living substance.

10 AP/6 DC: influence a town of mortals (~10k), influence a town-sized area, create an animal species, create one or a collection of lesser magical items (easy to both use and destroy, such as a magic carpet, health potion, invisibility cloak, etc.).

12 AP/8 DC: influence a city of mortals (~100k), influence a city-sized area, create a collection of lesser magical minions (should be a reasonable match for most mortals, such as hellhounds, cherubs, horse-mounted Nazgul, etc.), immortalise a living creature or mortal, create a pocket dimension (must be bounded and unable to hold a population).

14 AP/10 DC: influence one immortal, create a single greater magical monster (should be challenging for even the best mortals to slay, such as a dragon, gorgon, fell beast-mounted Witch King, etc.), create a greater magical item (requires understanding of magic to use or destroy, such as a phylactery, enchanted weapons and armour, crystal ball, etc.), sanctify an area for +2 (max 4 per god).

Detectable actions

16 AP/12 DC: influence a state of mortals (~1M) or a small group of immortals (~10), influence a state-sized area, scry a country-sized area, induce a celestial phenomenon (comet, eclipse, aurora, etc.), create a sentient species, create a +2 domain religious artefact (max 3 per god).

18 AP/14 DC: influence a country of mortals (~10M), influence a country-sized area, scry a continent-sized area, create a plane of reality (can be unbounded and capable of sustaining a population), create a +2 domain/-2 weakness demigod (max 2 per god).

20 AP/16 DC: influence a continent of mortals (~100M), influence a continent-sized area, scry the entire planet, create a law of reality (such as a system of magic for mortals to use, or an objective morality), create a supernaturally gifted sentient species, assign a chosen people for +2 (1 per god).

22 AP/18 DC: influence every mortal on the planet, influence the entire planet, despoil a +2 sanctified area.

24 AP/20 DC: destroy a +2 artefact, confer a -2 weakness to a demigod, banish a god for a turn, announce a prophesy.

30 AP/24 DC: destroy a demigod, confer a -2 weakness to another god.

40 AP/30 DC: destroy a god.

Secondary actions

1 AP: scry one object or living creature (allows you to detect undetectable actions that happen within your scry, effective for the duration of the turn after the turn on which you call the scry).

2 AP: scry a small landmark or room.

4 AP: scry a large landmark or building.

6 AP: scry a village-sized area.

8 AP: scry a town-sized area.

10 AP: scry a city-sized area.

12 AP: scry a state-sized area, reincarnate/reawaken a mortal/monstrous demigod.



Player
Deity
Domains/Weaknesses


Garjel_blah
Chern
+4 Decay, +1 Fermentation, +2 Starry Crypt, -2 Downtrodden


Godzillarich
Grawissen
+2 Mining, +2 Knowledge, +1 Writing, +2 Grawissen's Pickaxe of Architecture, -2 Unknown


Megadraco
Kahar-Djin
+2 Paths, +2 Thresholds, +1 Travellers, -2 Unexplored


Demonjazz
Alatadriel
+2 Fire, +2 Foxes, +1 Bees, -2 Arrogance


The Jojo
Avestra
+2 Nature, +2 Birds, +1 Reproduction?, +2 Avestra's Perch, -2 Primeval


Batcathat
Ymon-Thal
+2 Life, +2 Death, +1 Balance, -2 Unliving


El-the Ellie
Vreyalas
+2 Community, +2 Forging, -2 Darkness


Artemis P
Nestellbam
+4 Preservation, +1 Treasures, +2 Harken Steppe, -2 Creation


gac3
Timorin
+2 Drama, +2 War, +1 Games, -2 Fear


Mira_124
Opulon
+2 Cosmology, +2 Divination, -2 Focus


flyinglemur
Dulnori
+2 Fortune, +2 Ambition, +1 Dreams, -2 Stability


Maryring
Petr
+2 Water, +2 Healing, +1 Rainbow, +2 Sanctuary Moonpool -2 Pain


DarthArminius
Su'ule
+2 Sorcery, +2 Monsters, +1 Birth, -2 Willfulness


AlexanderML
Yir
+2 Sun, +2 Majesty, +1 Perfection, +2 Stonesthroe Mountain Peaks, -2 Arrogance, Yir's Vessel (+2 Giants/-2 Petulance)

[AlexanderML]

https://i.pinimg.com/564x/44/7d/63/447d63de226d7ad4da4d589030780853.jpg


The Edge of the Grey Plains - The Last Shaman and Huntsman of the Tribe of Calm Winter, as well as a Stranger:

It was another cold sad day for the struggling family among the outer edges of the plains, made worse by the recent tragedy that had be-felled them. After a long and painful birth the shaman's only daughter had been stricken with an illness that took her life after only a few short months, leaving behind her baby girl.

Just outside the winter tent where the child laid crying the shaman and the father of the child were arguing over what to do next, for both knew that they could not support the child here in this barren land. The grandfather shaman wished to go north, for he feared of the Icanda would slaughter them just as they did their ancestors. The father wished to go south, believing the sorcerous and barbaric mutants to be even worse.

As neither side reached and agreement, their words becoming ever more bitter, and weapons were in hands they both suddenly stopped; for they felt it appear from the winds in the guise of dark mists (https://youtu.be/bQsI9_PMy2E?t=13). Appearing a fair distance away it looked vaguely humanoid in shape with two barely noticeably glowing eyes looking at the two as it moved side to side. The two were a bit surprised when the thing talked, it's voice creaking and vibrating in an unnatural way.

"Neyh hehehe... My what sad scene this is, the last heir to this land's legacy with no mother and the two left to guard it about to leave it with even less."

The shaman stepped forth immediately, brandishing his staff which made the air tremble as he began to call upon the sorcery of icey Water to him. "Begone foul one! By the power of the Picter's blessed ice that covers this land I shall not let you near my kin!"

The figure gave up on the spell that made it's form mist, becoming something that looked closer to a human or giant, but still utterly malicious with it's mask and skin that clung onto it's bones.

https://i.pinimg.com/564x/57/36/89/5736895c7aec5dffcda2326e56620532.jpg

"Nyeh hehehe, you call the water god that?" The figure said with not a care for the staff or magic, and especially not the huntsman. With a snap of their fingers a small burst of purple flame shot out an inch from the figure's bony hands "Waters cold and still, be free from chill once more so you may follow no ones will." In an instant the ice and snow which surrounded the tent transformed into water, the ground became mud beneath the two tribesmen and the hunter tripped.

The shaman shocked and confused asked: "Why are you here?"

Replying with a bit of an annoyed tone the thing said: "Now you have some manners?" Looking down for a moment it gazed back up at the shaman, stating like it was still thinking: "I'm here to care for the babe."

"You lie!" Said the shaman, certain that this thing was no blessing in disguise.

"It does not matter what you think, I will be taking the babe with me. It would not survive in your care." Said the thing.

At this point the huntsman was able to rise from the muck and charge at the tall figure with spear in hand. As he got close however, the figure moved with speed that defied it's thin frame and wrapped one of it's bony hands over the neck of the huntsman, drawing blood with it's biting nails. The huntsman struggled madly to break free as he was risen into the air, only stopping once he was at eye level with the thing and looked into it's eyes.

"How pointless, die." Said the thing as it tore the man's neck open with it's other hand, letting him fall to the ground limp.

The shaman now enraged, unleashed winds of freezing cold onto the tall now blood-covered thing. Other than it's edges gaining some frost, it just stood there. The shaman did not relent and poured every bit of mana into this attack that he could. The thing began to cackle.

"Nyehehehe! Foolish shaman your magic is nothing like your predecessors whom slayed giants aplenty, you'd be lucky to have this kill a man! Step aside and let me take the child or I shall tend to you like I did that fool."

The shaman exhausted fell to his knees in the mud and looking down asked "Why, why do you want my granddaughter?"

Step by step the thing drew closer, it's shadow the only thing the shaman saw as he lacked the strength to look at the stranger. "Because she's special, she'll have more essence in her than most mutants and has blood ties to this land that are deeper than those Icandan fools. You may not be anything special, but in my hands she will be." it said looming over the shaman. "Such a shame you already used what mana you had in you... I'm peckish and your depleted blood would not satisfy me." Before the shaman could even think about what the stranger said it crushed his skull with one fast downward fisted strike.

Her family all dead, the orphan still laid crying inside the tent, though now only the stranger heard her cries.

A master Su Sorcerer who's gained incredible power during the in-between of godly Ages. It's still alive because of it's habit of using necromancy and the mana of others. After centuries the blood of those with plenty of mana or magicite has become the only substances it craves.

[Maryring]

Poor Bern has barely slept a wink the past week. He has been flitting from council to council. He begged the diviners high up in the mountains to believe his meeting with Petr. He implored the druids that guard the bird sanctuary to bring the flower arrangements to the Moon Pool. He suffered the trials of the Warrior Transmuters to convince them of his honesty. And somehow, despite the enormity of his demand, the people were convinced. Perhaps it was his brazen certainty, or the vigour with which he made his plea. Or perhaps it was the subtle benevolence of Petr themselves that made the people inclined to believe. Regardless of how, by dusk on the seventh day, everything was in order. Small market stalls of lightweight bamboo have been erected alongside the riverbank. Baskets of fish and fruit, food and drink have been prepared. Magicite stones, enchanted by the island's artificers, provide the heat to prepare the food. Intricate creations of wood and flowers hang from the trees all around the pool, and altars of pearl and coral honour the gods with small offerings in preparation for the feast itself.

The sun had just begun touching the ocean far off in the horizon when the procession towards the Moon Pool began in earnest. Small lanterns made from light wood, coated in a layer of fire-retardant aquamancy has been painted by the children of the island. The lanterns each carry a single tallow candle that is lit down by the beach and then carried high, one lantern from each family. Everyone makes the journey. The young are carried by their parents. The old are carried by their children. And those suffering burns from attempts to master the art of fire are carried by the priests of Petr. As they walk up, they are joined by all sorts of animals. Predator and prey, large and small. Hyenas and rabbits walk among themselves and the mortals. A painted dog carries her pup in her mouth, while an elephant helps a one-legged pygmy by letting him ride on it's back. When the procession arrives at the Moonpool, a flock of white doves has already placed itself in a protective circle around the Pool itself. Visible even in nothing but the pale moonlight. One by one the people of Sanctuary take their lanterns and place them upon the surface of the lake. There they slowly drift across the water, like uncountable stars drifting upon a perfectly blue mirror. A reflection of the heavens above.

Then all is silent. A silence so intense it can be heard. Gone are the gentle sway of wind through leaves. The lap of waves upon shores. The animals, the birds, even the insects are all silent. As if the whole world for one brief moment holds it's breath.

Then the lantern lights go out. Someone, no one's quite sure who, begins to sing. It's a song they all know well.

O galu e agamalu
Lulu ia susulu
E vave le lele
E ala i lona malosi
puipuia lo matou fale
ma fa'amalosia i matou
upega mamafa mamafa
seia mae'a le la

Even the wild beasts join in. A chorus of howls and barks and trumpets to sing glory and praise to this auspicious event.

---

Where the moon reflects upon the lake, a thick mist forms. It rises up in spirals, followed by waves of water obscuring all sight. It forms a globe that suddenly collapses, the water falling back to the lake and the mists spraying the sky above to form a most brilliant rainbow that crosses the entire lake, crisper and clearer than any rainbow before has ever been, easily visible despite the moon being the only light. And beneath the rainbow stands Petr themselves. A brilliant smile upon their face, arms stretched open as if to welcome the people of sanctuary into their arms. "My Children. I have returned!" Petr's voice rings like tiny bells, and is somehow still louder than the raucous roars and cheers from the people of the island.

Petr calmly walks towards the shore. As they walk, light and water coalesce into their grip, forming a rime-tinted scroll. When their feet touch land, they make a gentle gesture towards the crowd. Small drops of crystal clear water touch the mortals. "You have done well to come so far. You have kept to the teachings of old and created a beautiful sanctuary where life can grow and thrive. For your devotion I bring gifts and grand news. The first is a gift of grace and presence. Other gods have chosen to bear witness to your hospitality. May your offerings make me proud of your works." With a grand gesture Petr introduces the divine who have chosen to not just be present, but make an appearance.

"The second is a gift of wisdom and power. One of the gods has created a system that will permit mortals to touch upon the divinity of the world, to properly understand it's expressions and intricacies. And I bring here instructions to those who wish to study the art of reflection. To see how all things echo unto one another into eternity." They take the scroll and present it to a nearby priest. They wait for the stir of the crowd to fade once more before gently placing a hand on their middle.

"As for the third. I bring most wonderful news. I am with child."


36 AP
-18 AP/DC 14: Create Demi-God - Nerassus (+2 Love/Justice):
Petr will create a child of their own. They hope to create a child who can take care of the world while they are gone. A great protector who can travel the world, interact with and take care of mortals, guide the worthy to the island, and shelter damaged souls in his embrace. To this task they utilize

Moonpool +2: The place of his birth. Petr uses the unique connection forged between Ymon-Thal's realm and the mortal world to tie the mortal to the realm between life and death, giving them a place to be shielded and reborn, and one metaphorical foot in both worlds, allowing him to interact with both the body and soul.
Water +2: Petr will give him lifeblood. The ability to feel what mortals feel. To take part in their pains and joys. Petr will also give him a mastery of water equal to their own mastery of water. They will be skilled in reading wind and weather, a masterful sailor who never need fear the deep ocean. With their mastery they can summon and divert rains at will.
Healing +2: Petr will give him a mastery of the physical body as well. They may knit flesh with a touch, revitalize the heart, and even alter the physical form of what he touches to something he deems more suitable.
Rainbow +1: To allow him to travel freely, Petr will create a rainbow carriage that will be useable only by Nerassus, allowing them to travel across the sky with Petr's emblem.


The news send the crowd into a frenzy of cheers and whoops. With a voice that rings over the crowd Petr declares the festival to begin, and the evening becomes a blur of festivities and song. The gods hidden among mortals are given the chance to try sweet drinks from fermented sugar-cane and rice-water. The gods who make their presence known are honoured with small crafts of coral, pearl and magicite. The air becomes thick with the smell of rice fried with pineapple and seafood. And when Timorin takes to the stage with their play, the islanders betray their ignorance by laughing at the most foolish couple to have ever graced a stage. The party doesn't end until the sun once more starts to creep over the horizon, at which point Petr gives each and every person on the island a gentle hug. For one incredible moment everything is right.

And then they wake up. The gods are gone, and the festival from yesterday seems but a faint dream. But a grand time was had by all. They have to do this again next year.

---

"Thank you all for coming and joining in on the festivities. We have given the mortals an experience that will not soon be forgotten. Furthermore, I hope you will all look with benevolence upon my child and help guide him on the right path. And perhaps help give him the power to offer his protection even outside Sanctuary."

"Especially you I have a request for. You wove a prison into the wards that shield the island. One that will keep any master of Su'Sorcery within the island forever. I accept this, but I expect you to help ensure my child does not suffer the same bindings. As freeform Su'Sorcerers enter the island, my people will need someone to shelter them, that they do not become a helpless target for such violence. My son will thus need both to utilize Su'Sorcery, and to move about freely. And so, in this instance I expect your assistance."

[Godzillarich]

So what have the Ceratopsians been up too?

The Starfolk

“So for this ritual you use this Fungus?” A Ceratopsian mumbled as he stared at the strange fungus.

“Yes…” a pygmies said as he pulled out a mask. “They are extremely important for our burial rituals. I can show you how…” The pygmies stopped himself when he noticed chewing sounds. Apparently the Ceratopsian was munching on the toxic glowloam. “WHAT ON EARTH ARE YOU DOING!”

The dinosaur turned towards the Pygmies “Eating this delicious fungus?”

“But...but that can legitimately melt through steel!”

“Well, junk food is unhealthy for you but it still delicious” Dino mumbled as he went back to chewing the fungus. “By the way would you be willing to give me some of this fungus for a small price, the other Ceratopsian will love this.”

___

The Yith

“You seem to have a curiosity for the dead…” a young Yith asked as she sat beside the strange four-legged visitor.

The female Ceratopsian pause in her research of the dead and turned towards the woman. “It is not that I appreciate death but I see it as an insight to past lives.”

The Yith smiled. “Well, you seem to have a more nuanced look into death than most.”

___

The Path Missionaries

“Thank you for carrying this stuff for us…” One of the missionaries said as he strapped the last bit of luggage onto the dinosaur back.

The Ceratopsian smiled as he got up from the ground “No problem. we are going the same direction so I thought it would be a kind just of the help, besides I’m interested in asking your people some questions.”

The Al-Sinai

“AHHHHHHHHHHHHHH! Get these crazy things off me.” A Ceratopsian screamed as he attempted to shake the foxes off of him, screaming out of the city.

___

The Orcs

A Ceratopsian and an orc stared at the ground below them. Both of them were playing a game of wits to see who was the smartest of both of them. A game that would push both of them to the absolute limit. The dinosaur then drew a circle, “well I guess I win this tic-tac-toe game again.” The dinosaur said as he smiled.

The orcs slammed his foot onto the ground. “Best of 8 out of 16! I will not be beaten by you.”

Let’s just say they are probably going to be at this for hours.
___

The Crow People

A bunch of crow kids rode off the top of a female Ceratopsian back as the dinosaur walked along with another Crow person.

“I am sorry we were somewhat hostile to you came along, we do not have the best track record when it comes to visitors.” The Crow person told the the visitor.

“It’s okay.” the female dinosaur interjected. “Learning about your history, your true history I completely understand why you don’t like outsiders but maybe we can begin a more peaceful future.”

___

The Cult of the Mad God

“I don’t think I’m going to put on the crown the day…” A Ceratopsian mumbled as he slowly backed away from the raving pygmie. “...I’ve heard… Worrying stories.”

“Come on it on, it’s good to give you such a rush of energy.”

___

Sanctuary

“This island is so beautiful…” A Ceratopsian explained enjoy as he watched all the weird life, the beautiful architecture and the fact that there was a floating island at all, most assumed it was just the legend.” He then noticed a small gathering of people in the distance. “Well, I guess that’s a good place to start.”

___

The Sugradi Giant Clans
“Oh I’m sorry you club simpleton I thought you would understand by delicate.” A Ceratopsian yelled at a Giant.

“Oh I’m sorry Mr. backscratcher that I don’t understand you’re horrific accent.” The giant yelled back

“I’m going to give you a chance to apologize or I’m going to bring the verbal smack down upon you.”

“Bring it on your four-legged muted parrot us giants are the kings of insults along with pretty much everything else.”

“Are you sure about that because from what I’ve seen you have your head so far into the clouds I’m pretty sure you don’t get enough oxygen to Mentally function.”

“Please herbivores eat so much **** from the ground I’m pretty sure it’s your preferred seasoning.”

“Saying I each ****, you’re as predictable as yesterday’s weather.”

Like the tic-tac-toe game this probably went on for hours.

___

Theshana

“It is amazing that your tribe has lasted this long against the mighty empire of the Giants.” A Ceratopsian proclaims to he was interviewing.

The person side. “Yes before how long can we last.”

“Win or lose your story will not be forgotten.”

___

The Wasteland Mutants

Many of the mutants looked upon their Ceratopsian with pure enthusiasm. “Is this another creation of the great Su?”

“Um I think you people have the wrong idea…”

___

The Horizon Tribe

The Ceratopsian was absolutely amazed at the Horizon’s legendary javelin throwers as they demonstrated their skills in front of him. The dinosaur examined one of the speakers. ”This weapon is his finely crafted, this must cost you a lot of materials?”

A Horizon warrior picked up the spear. “When you have the skill the weapon comes naturally.”

___

the Great Orcishtal Desert

A Sinalese walked across the hot and humid desert. There were two of them, one was a commander and the other was a lonely foot trooper. “Why do they even want this dry wasteland anyway? It doesn’t seem to be worth anything.” one of the soldiers yelled out.

“We do not question the greatness that is Alatadriel.” the commander in front yelled. “Now get moving, we have to meet up with the rest of the troops”

“Look I’m just saying…” The scout then stopped himself.

The commander stopped as he turned around. “Oh I’m sorry scout are you done being a smart…” the command to stop himself as he saw what the scout was seeing.

It was the platoon they were told to meet up with what was left of them. A group of about 1000, all dead, the bodies mutilated. Along with the soldiers, there are various other dead animals, most of them being foxes. What was most complex thing about them was beside the absolute horror the bodies were mostly intact save for bite and scratch marks. Whatever killed them seemed to do it just for fun.

“What in the he…”

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=81Ro7vt_U8g

An ear-piercing screech filled the air as an army of weird two-leg lizards emerged from the ground.

Without hesitation, the commander pulled out his weapons. “Scout run!”

“But what about you?” the scout replied. “I can’t leave you here.”

“We need the information of whatever the hell these things are to be reported to the capital at once, not only for our city but everyone in the desert, and only requires one of us to make it out and your faster. I will slow these beasts down.”

“But command…”

“That is an order now go!” and with that the scout started running.

“All right you...whatever the hell you are, bring it!?” the commander yelled out as he charged at the massive number of the monsters.

As the scout continued to run he heard the sounds of blades cutting through flesh. The commander would not survive… But the scout will. This would be the first story of these monsters, the first story of The Terrors

[Batcathat]

Ymon-Thal (feat. Nestellbam), 32/50 AP, The Passing

Floating through the air high above the shapeless ground and gazing at the Passing's twin sort-of-suns both aspect of the Eternal Argument felt content and, for the first time in existence, truly at peace. Despite the seemingly chaotic nature of the newborn plane, no mortal souls yet giving it form, everything was in perfect order.

Ymon-Thal felt the souls of the dead and not yet born as clearly as if they had been his own fingers, no longer were they flying around at random with luck and chance deciding who would be reborn. Order had replaced chaos and the dead were swarming around Kahar-Djin's portals, soon to enter the afterlife for the first time.

But first there was one debt yet to repay and a position to fill. Ymon-Thal let his manifestations dissolve and reappeared in the mortal world, next to one of portals of the dead.

“Nestellbam", Thal greeted one of the two waiting by the portal. Then he turned towards the mortal soul at the Preserver's side. "Verys. A pleasure to meet you. We are Ymon-Thal, God of Life and Death."

Ymon, silent for once, waited in the background, only raising his hand in greeting of the Mad God and his dead follower.

“Greetings, gods of life and death. I have felt your attempts to create an afterlife- this here is my faithful servant, Verys, who has served me well. I ask that you preserve her soul in this afterlife, and that she may know here the peace she never had in life”, Nestellbam said and took his leave.

"You are favored by the gods, Verys. Nestellbam asked a favor for you, to be the first mortal to enter the afterlife." He paused. "And we have a very special destiny in mind for you."

Had Verys still had veins full of blood, she would likely had grown pale.

"Such a people person..." Ymon mumbled before stepping to his other self's side. "Hi! Don't mind him, Verys. We just have an offer for you. It's real good!"

Ymon reached out and took Verys' hand in his own, sitting down on the ground between her and the portal to the Passing.

"Come on, have a seat!" With a combination of force of personality and force of strength Ymon made Verys sit down on the stony ground next to him. "Comfortable, right? Everything's a cushion when you're all spirit."

Unusually patient and coherent Ymon explained their plan to her and as he did Verys' expression changed from terrified to curious to determined.

"We don't need you, if you don't wanna. Not exactly you, at least. Just someone like you."

"Like me?" Verys asked, her first words since meeting Ymon-Thal. "Like me how?"

"Clever. Determined. Caring", Thal said, from behind her. "And dead at the right time."

Ymon took Verys' hand again and led her through the portal to the Passing. As they arrived the surrounding landscape changed into a small hill next to Petr's ever present river, perhaps based on some memory of Verys.

As per Nestellbam's request Verys was the first mortal soul to enter the Passing but within moments others poured in, appearing in flashes of light in the landscape as far as the eye could see.

“So many...” Verys mumbled.

“Yes”, Thal agreed. “People die every instant and this is where they come...”

“Waiting to be born anew.” Ymon added. “They really need someone to look after them though. And like I said before...”

“You want it to be me”, Verys said.

Both of Ymon-Thal nodded.

Verys was quiet, staring out at the River of Purity, its flowing water looking almost still compared to the ever changing landscape around it.

“Yes. I want to do it”, she said after a long moment of silence, broken only by the river and the calls of Avestra's flock flying high above.

“Good”, Ymon said, taking her hand for a third time as Thal took her other one. The Twin God draw on their power and let it flow through them, into the still-mortal Verys.

"Verys of the Aeons, blessed by Nestellbam, be gone. Be reborn as Thal-Verys of the Passing, chosen by Ymon-Thal", spoke Ymon-Thal.


Create Thal-Verys, Demigodess of Souls (+2)
Verys is remade into Thal-Verys to look after the souls of the dead (+2 Death) or the not yet born (+2 Life) and the uphold the balance (+1 Balance) of the Passing.

[gac3]

Timorin 38 AP

When Timorin woke up after the party, visions of bears and fish dancing in his head, he had some things to consider. Last night was surprisingly fun. Yet very few individually exciting things happened. Perhaps… perhaps companionship can do something to the mundane. It can make it more enjoyable… That or it was the booze… That does seem more likely. Either way, Timorin would need to experiment with this. Perhaps there is a way he can get drama and conflict as well as greater companionship.

Timorin decided there was only one way to test his theory while also guaranteeing fun. He was going to build all the gods a house to live in. Nothing better than having all your friends and rivals under one roof, sharing soup.

He began weaving together a new realm, one for only him and his friends and those they invite. Hungover as he was, it only seemed feasible that he accomplished it because he had just done it a few days ago with That. He couldn't remember if Ymon was there. Either way, it was time for the master to become the apprentice.

The new realm was split into sixteen equal parts, though many of them were blank, to be formed by the power of their masters when they arrived. Only three stood out as unique and different.

The first was the Solomn Lands. They were a bland and safe land. One where one day Timorin planned to put guides and Wismen and those that found themselves here would be able to begin their journey.

The second was barren and lifeless. It was the Barren Dunes. One travelling there could find broken chains and shattered cages. A tribute to what has been lost but might have been great. Perhaps terrible, but great.

The final fleshed out piece of the reality is Timorin's piece, the Madlands. He strove to create in his realm a place where artists, warriors, and gamblers could all live as one. Similar to all that would be, his lands had no sentients yet. It was, however, filled with massive stages and coliseum, vast hunting grounds, training grounds, and anything else someone like Timorin valued. Much of the color scheme is blood red, whether it be trees or stone or dirt.

At the point where all sixteen slices of pie converge sat a castle larger than most cities, perhaps even larger than that. It too, being centralized, was split into sixteen equal parts. The piece in the Solomn Lands held the grand entrance hall. The piece in the Barren Dunes held dungeon that was in disrepair. Pieces of walls were collapsing or sunken in. The piece in the Madlands held many places similar to the lands themselves. On top of housing Timorin's personal Chambers, it held an armory, a waroom, a creative zen garden, a stage, and many more.

The realm is constantly shifting to match it's masters. Timorin smiled looking out at it and then sent out a message to all the other gods.

"Please, come home see our new home."

Creating the Divine World
Create a Plane of Reality. AP 18. DC 14.
+2 Drama, +2 War, +1 Games as the realm reflects it's masters. Plus Timorin expects certain people to be… less than happy at the potential sharing of one realm. -2 for Timorin's fear of rejection.

The idea behind the realm is that it will grow and wane and change with the gods. Not just the gods themselves however but also their worship on Earth. The realms reflect who their respective god is. This means that the more someone is worshipped, the more flourishing their section is. The way in which each god is worshipped will also be reflected in the way the realm manifests. It is shaped equally by the mortal perception of the gods and the personality of the gods themselves.

Timorin also makes a small group of devices. One device per section. Small little Divine Devices or Divivices. Each god can choose what to do with their own. As of now, these are the only ways mortals can come to the Diviworld.

Next turn Timorin plans to make a divine sentient species that reflects the gods much the same way the world does. Currently though, there are no sentient species in the realm.

[AlexanderML]

Yir, Valrion, Ulmor, and Ragdios - Holy High - Flesh Awakens:

It could feel the god above it, what it was just a moment ago, or was it so much more? Haunting dreams of being trapped, escaping, only to find it's heavenly self made as corrupt as the godlings below. It always ended in mutual death, with the one above being slain but the horrid flame would always latch on and burn this flesh. In it's soul it cursed them, cursed everyone that would do this to it. Then it heard the gentle voice of it's old self above.

"Vessel of my light, I see a great many powers interfered with your decent past even what I had anticipated. What is the extent of the damage?"

It had to think about this for a while, it was still perfect wasn't it? Besides the flesh, the terrors, and that... that... horrible stench. Moaning out words for the first time using this floppy part of it's face it spoke: "Ixtempsive. Ughhh... worbs er herd."

Oh, it could feel the disappointment of Yir. Even though it was not it's fault that the godlings did this to them! But then the god above suddenly forgoed the disappointment, feeling more relived, or was it angry?

"You who hold my light, this world has done you such great harm before you even took one step. My fury shall strike down those that would harm you while so defenseless." It paused for a moment. "I am glad that you live, that my, no, OUR light shall now shine even through the time between divine Ages. You must realize that we are different, limb torn apart from form by the malicious powers. You shall need a name greater than Vessel, rise now and try to speak your name."

It was able to get up with surprising ease, those nightmares proving advantageous to some degree. It thought on what it's name would be.

https://pm1.narvii.com/6685/b00e59c78d3304db72c8d56d17e0c46425c5c519_hq.jpg

"My... na'me shall bee-be Valrion." It said with a great deal of difficulty, quite a bit of inner awkwardness. Yir was pleased.

"A fine name Valrion of my light. You may go, meet with the mortal men that built your shell and rule this land in MY name." Valrion felt even more awkward with that statement of Yir's, conflicted. They just moved towards the temple, wait, palace? Did it look different up close or did something about this place change?

Valrion had to shrink to fit within the building (but not by much, like it was made for them), seeing the inside of one of these buildings for the first time. It was strange, but had a colorful look that was pleasant. What was important was the two Sahgori staring at them, unsure of what they were looking at. Trying really hard not to stumble on it's words, it said to the two.

"I am Valrion, the Light that has descended from on hiigh." It silently cursed it's screw-up. "Yir thanks you for help in the construction of the Vessel that was my shell."

"It was my duty to the light." said Ragdios as he started to look upon Valrion judgmentally.

"I appreciated working with such a complex arcano-divino ritual... oh and it was my duty to serve." Said Ulmor, with growing amusement and pride.

Did they not respect it? No, they did, Valrion could feel it. Still, it was annoying to see these emotions directed at them. With a bit of a huff, it began to walk past them to try and find a way out of this palace.

"Come, your presence will aid me down in the council. I must see how MY empire fares."



Baby demi-god announcement party

Yir only heard about the child the next day, considering that Petr had purposefully setup the broadcast of them being pregnant for when Yir was gone. Yir only had a clue as to the level of power Petr used, and it became worried at the implications of this malicious divine being gathering enough power to scar many good people with whatever it was planning. So Yir began to investigate the edges of Sanctuary the next dawn after the party. A glimmer of light being the only sign of Yir's gaze being upon the place, to see what information it could gather from the locals.

The sun god was not surprised that the gods would hold their celebrations away from it it's light, the lowly godlings being things of darkness and hate. It was somewhat relived to hear that Petr was only with child, instead of some artifact of icy destruction, but also worried about what the malicious godling could do with/to the new demi-god.

When noon came, Yir pronounced to the godling and those solarmancers in the city that called upon it's miracles: "I am Yir the keeper of the heavens and gifter of light. I shall care for the coming child like I do those blessed in lands far from here. They shall share my MAJESTY in blood, and all shall look upon it with awe like my blessed, and by MY light shall it always know there is someone there to help, no matter where they go.

+2 Majesty: Yir gives Nerassus a similar blessing it gave the giants, making the demi-god at least 12ft tall, mighty in frame, a great beauty, and glowing in their aura. It's the look a demi-god deserves, and something Yir would give to all close to it.

+2 Sun: The sun will be there for the demi-god. This partly comes in the form of Nerassus being able to use the power of solarmancy with ease, but mainly in the form of always having the ear of Yir. Of course, Yir does not know what Nerassus is doing, but it can be called down for aid or guidance very easily. At times, Yir will also try to give advice to the demi-god and teach it what it knows.

-2 Arrogance: All this influence from Yir has the downside of having a bit of it's personality rub off on Nerassus, this is not seen as a bad thing by Yir. The extent of this influence is up to Maryring.

[Demonjazz]

Alatadriel: The Empire of Inadriel. 32/50 AP

Alatadriel stood, transformed as a regular human teacher in front of a board of black. “So last week, we covered why you shouldn’t use the word mongrel when referring to other races.” Alatadriel wrote the word mongrel and then tried to draw a circle with a cross around it… Erased the circle and tried three more times before realizing that was the closest she was going to get to a circle. Some of the men and women of the audience took notes at their desks. “Now we’re going to talk about Sexism: Why it’s bad.”

There seemed to be a general disgruntled sound from the men in the audience.

“Listen, I know it may be hard to grasp for some of you, but this is a very important lesson for all of us.”
Alatadriel thought for a second… “Well most of us in the audience. Now Lesson 1:Why women aren’t objects.”

~~~

A Sinalese man sat with other dignified politicians around a game table filled with sets of dice and cards. “The help around here is a little frigid, yunno.” One of them said. A Kantonese servant passed by them with a heavy glare as he placed a bowl of dates in front of them.

“It’s crazy up here, it’s like everyone is planning to kill me. I could barely get a word in when I’m negotiating. They’ll just yell over you. Definitely isn’t stuffy like up in The Capital.”

“So how’s your new wife than?” One of the men said with a nudge. “Frigid as the help?”

The newlywed leaned in a bit closer. “Well a gentleman never kisses and tells, but… She’s ****ing wild for me.”

“You’re ****ting us, man?! She looks like she wants to bite your head most of the time.”

“Yeah, that’s the crazy thing. I think it’s some sort of act, cause like I can barely keep up with her. Last night well… “ The man whispered something in the man’s ear. The only words that could be made out were “Three servants… Chamomile Oil… Suspension… Hemp Rope.”

~~~

Imperator Thrang, previously Khan Thrang sat on his throne. His crown weighed heavy on his brow. He was so busy these days, rebellions from the deserts, Trade routes to secure, water to deliver, roads to build. He wondered what would befall his empire when he was dead. With his death, his dynasty would fall. He knew it was naught but a name, that this wide expanse would be left to a suitable successor… But still. There was something melancholic about that. A once-venerable name ending because he was kicked in the balls by a donkey… He remembered that day. Just thinking about it made him grimace as he remembered the pain. He was so angry that he had the donkey executed. In the public square no less for high treason.

He was a young man then. He used to be energetic, and command the troops in the van. A real pinnacle of battle. Now he felt every little ache and creak in his back when he bent down. He hadn’t seen battle in a long time. So busy, and yet he always felt like he did so much more when he was young. Locked up in this damn fortress because everyone thought he’d keel over dead if he exerted himself too much.

A fox approached him with a note. A not strange experience in the halls of The Capital of Al-Sinai. He bent down, handing the creature a handful of treats he kept in a small bag for just such an occasion. The note was simple and read as followed. “Monsters rise from the west, you must unify your people not only in body but in spirit to stand a chance.”

As the Imperator tried to recall reports from the west, a scout burst into the room covered in blood, he looked like he had crossed the entire desert without stopping. “Sire! Sire! There were… Terrors, beasts. They… Killed…” The scout stopped taking deep breaths as he looked on the verge of a panic attack and tears. “Everyone. The entire f-f-****ing platoon!”

Influence a city of mortals,12AP/8DC
Tolerance, Passion, Unity. These are the values of the Empire of Holy Flame. Alatadriel ignites a new flame in the people of the Empire to bring her people closer together. A three-pronged plan like that of a trident.

Tolerance lessons as Professor Ala. They haven’t been making much progress honestly, but she thinks she’s going to make a breakthrough soon enough.

The curse of majesty has given the Peoples of the Deserts some negative opinions about The Empire. A couple of well-placed marriages to unite various lands and cultures with the empire can do wonders to bring the people together.
+2 from Fire as Alatadriel alights the flames of passion in the couples to ensure peaceful and successful marriages. This can manifest in several ways, but well… There’s one way that it typically manifests.

Imperator Thrang has started a national propaganda campaign to bring in people from the lesser-known parts of the Empire into the army. Believing firmly that this will help unite his people not only against the common threat of the Terrors but to unite them as citizens of The Empire. He will often come to these recruitment drives himself, doing hour-long speeches about how ‘Every man, woman, and child has a place under the Holy Flame of Alatadrie!l’ And that ‘The Enemy hopes to divide! To conquer not only our lands but our spirit! It is only through the acceptance of our diversity can we triumph!’ along with setting up laws to protect the rights of various minorities. Most of the old guard thinks he’s just gone crazy in his age, but he’s garnered a surprising amount of support from the Orcs, and even some in the Greater Orcishtal Desert.
+2 Foxes from the fox that delivered this message.

There’s a lot to be said about Alatadriel, but she’s not one to miss a party. To the disappointment of many people. As she made a grand entrance to the dreamlike party on Sanctuary, draped in fine silks, and expensive gold jewelry inset with rubies, and diamonds, she was naught but honored with gifts of coral, and pearl. Ugh, the humidity of this land was starting to give her a headache, and she could not stand the peaceful relations of the animals here. And everything here was so soft and smooth. Not like the hard, and coarse materials of the Empire. What she would do for a nice estately gold breastplate or a fine granite wall in this place. Dreadful architecture. At some point early in the party, she slipped away after a particularly embarrassing encounter with a child who went to pet her tails and went into a more humble human form.

The rest of the party Alatadriel spent an insubordinate amount of time sulking in a corner eating hor'dourves and drinking far more than the acceptable amount. “I don’t get what’s so friggin’ special anyway.” She knocked back her fifteenth martini of the night. “It’s just being pregnant. I could do that too if I wanted to yunno… I mean, I never tried it, ‘specially with a mortal, but I’m pretty sure I could.” A server carried another tray away from her as a large pile of steamed rice was set in front of the god, she didn’t even bother getting silverware as she just picked it up with her hands and shoveled it into her mouth. “It’s like kids aren’t everything, right. They’re just gonna like die in sixty years so what’s the point. I’m telling ya, I definetly made the right decision not to have them.” There was a pause that was far longer than was socially comfortable even for the bartender used to disorderly patrons. “Yeah.” Was all that Alatadriel said after that.
“Yunno, miss. If you ain’t enjoying yourself. You could just leave. Get some sleep in the guest rooms.”
“Ugh! I was gonna to like do this thing when everyone gave their gifts to the kid. But I guess that I really don’t have to do that.” The fox got up from her seat wobbling as she drunkenly stumbled over to Petr.

Alatadriel stumbled over Petr, nearly knocking over the other god as she used her to support herself. Primarily out of her troubles to stand currently, but partly out of wanting a hug before she left as she heard that was an event. “Ugh! God! Even you’re smooth! Why is everything here so smooth!” Alatadriel slurred, a bit of drink dribbled out of the corner of her mouth as she drank some more fermented beverage. “Hey!” The god somehow got even more uncomfortably close. “Nerassus! I hope that you aren’t as smooth, and boring as your mother! That’s my gift!” The drunken god than let out a belch as she fell off the water god

It was this belch that entangled the Fire goddess’s powers into the child.
+2 Fire, The demigod of justice would have his blood alight at the very thought of Injustice! The hotblooded boy would have little patience for the cruel and wicked.
+2 Fox, The demigod is gifted with the sharp and angular features of a fox. Not smooth and soft like everything of his mother's.

The goddess clutched her to a bag of ice in The Passing. She looked up to the gigantic sun in the sky, and then the smaller one. “Ugh, am I seeing double?” She blinked a couple of times as she materialized a glass of water to drink. “Ugh, no. I’m not. I remember making that. Ugh, how did I even get here, and why does it feel like I made awful decisions last night?”

She walked over to Ymon and Thal in the distance as she drank most of the glass in her hand. “Fancy meeting you two here.” Alatadriel nodded in recognition to something the two were saying. “An usher of souls. Yeah, I’ll help with that. Hey, I’m kind of fighting against these raptors things. Might have been a bit responsible for that. Mind helping me though, unite the land and everything… Ugh, My head still hurts..”

+2 From Fire. The demigoddess of souls is given caged in iron and seven heavy layers of cloth and leather, what appears to be a miniature version of Alatadriel’s sun in The Passing. Unwrapping the first layer would allow Thal-Verys the ability to see more clearly the shadows cast by the harsh light, the second layer would allow the demigoddess to see even into the soul’s private moments outside of society, the third layer would allow the demigoddess to play out the events to the soul before them, unwrapping the fourth layer and only the strongest souls would be able to stand its gaze being immobilized in its wake. Anything more and the heat of the flame risks damaging not only the soul but even the immaterial landscape or the wielder themselves.

After several painful hours later, Alatadriel finally felt up to visit Timorin’s new Abode of the gods. Central to her spoke of the wheel is a large hearth that is shared by all of the rooms within her circular layout. Though it does appear more vibrant or soothing depending on the room you are in. The first room of her invention was that of her chambers, for that of a goddess it was rather small and humble all things considered. Smaller than the Imperator’s room at The Capital. It was mainly dominated by the large bed in the center of the room with soft luscious cushions, silken curtains, and fur sheets, but has a couple of reading chairs, scrolls, and a small tea set. The rest of the room has very vibrant and colorful tapestries with strange angular art to them. The walls and floors are made of a coarse cobblestone or perhaps pumice in places.
Next to her room is her much larger tea den. Sharing a room with the garden where several large tea trees, flowers, herbs, vegetables and other materials for cooking are. The garden appears to somehow be outside but walled in at the edges. Near these edges are where most of the trees and the bee range are kept. the cooking room and tea den being a large building towards the inner edge. The large hearth has several fireplaces divided here.
Not far from that was her forging room. Nearly every table is filled and disorderly other than the table directly next to the forge. Some tables lay with blueprints splayed out on them for new inventions, others house unfinished projects of complexity, gears lay splayed out on some of the tables of varying sizes. Some failed creation of watches angrily busted in several spots, small-busted springs scattered around them. Little pieces of jewelry lay piled together, some select pieces taken from the pile and laid in a separate smaller pile. Weapons of various work phases are scattered about with different sets of armor, some ceremonial, some very much not looking like awful brutalist creations of wrought iron despite their craftsmanship.
Across from that is simply a fox sanctuary which shares its room with a store of wood, coal, and other, primarily burnable substances needed for smithing.
Across from that is an improbably large dance hall and practice range. One half being dedicated to a large stage, and the other half facing the opposite way is dedicated to places to test and train your weapons including a range for bowmanship along with the practice dummies. The room seems to warp to one’s needs. Closing or lengthening distances as needed by your activities.
There is a small soundproof meditation room following that with only a wooden floor, a square of zen rocks, and a single pillow. Following that room is back to the bedroom.
+2 Fire, +Foxes, and +1 Bees from the various objects included in her abode.

[Maryring]

The coconut plantation outside port Petra:
It is yet another beautiful day in Sanctuary. The birds are singing, the sea is roaring against the beach, the palm trees are heavy with coconuts, and the sun is shining down. Everything is calm and peaceful and.

"AAAARHG!" The cry of a man shatters the silence as he is pounced upon by a vicious monster of tooth and scales and claws. One moment he is filling a basket with coconuts. The second an utterly unknown vicious beast is savagely mauling him. The claws rip into his flesh, tear his clothes to shreds. And that ravenous maw comes bearing down on his exposed throat, chomping down with a loud *twang*.

At the very last moment the man manages to draw mana into his form to transfom his skin into metal. The beast still has his neck in it's jaws, but at least his throat isn't torn out. The vicious ravenous beast keeps up it's onslaught, but the protective spell blunts the trauma for long enough that the man can gather his wits about himself. He grabs a nearby coconut and channels mana into it, before he smashes it into the side of the beast's skull with enough force to knock the beast sideways. The creature screeches as it is flung sideways and onto the ground. The blow has left it dazed, and so it can't flee before the man pounces onto him. He brings the coconut down on the beast again and again and again until *crack*.

Panting, wincing in pain, and hands quivering at what he's done, the man drops the bloodsoaked, still whole coconut down on the ground. He wants to throw up, but the adrenaline surging through his body helps him focus. Backing away from the corpse, he turns to hobble back towards the nearest garrison. "A... Alarm. Alarm!"

---

Within Sanctuary's Chamber (now castle) of Masters:
"While we still haven't identified how they arrived at the island, my men and women are confident that we have eradicated most if not all of these mysterious invaders." Tao, the Transmuter General, speaks with a deep, booming voice befitting his station.

"They may be vicious animals, but there appear to be nothing overtly supernatural about them. Their wounds are healed as easily as anything else at least." P'ua, the Master of Aquamancy inclines his head politely as he enters the chamber. "Have you had any luck Master Nani?"

"None." The Master Diviner shakes her head sadly. "The stars did tell that ancient beasts would arise from their bones to roam the world again, but nothing suggests that they would be conjured to appear here on the island. I can only conclude that this is an act of the gods."

"But who of the Great Ones would do something so cruel?" Dew'eyera, Master Necromancer looks up from his cup of rum which he has spent the past ten minutes staring into. "The Sun? Feeling slighted to not be invited to our recent celebration? Timor'in? He might find the conflict amusing. Perhaps the Fox. As we see with our pyromancers, she does love to torment mortals."

"Silence your insolence." Kalepo, the Great Craftsman, glares daggers at his slightly drunk companion. "They are the Gods, and they deserve our respect. Not unfounded accusations."

"Oh?" Dew leans forward in his chair, glaring back at Kalepo. "How about this. I'll show them respect when they descend from their high and mighty perch and tell a young mother why her sole child had to die by the hands of the divine."

"Gentlemen. Please." Okeyani, the Radiant One, gently lowers her hand while gazing imperiously on the two younger Masters. "I understand that emotions are running high, but we are better than this petty squabling. The people of the island look to us for guidance. We must show excellence towards one another, and towards them. This means patience and respect. Understood?!"

"Yes ma'am." The two Masters lower their head in shame. Though they are all old, Okeyani has the commanding presence to make most anyone feel like a child being chastised by the teacher.

The room goes silent for a moment, only broken by the soft *cracks* from the bottom floor where a Ceratopsian has been put under guard by the Archdruid and the Master of whispers. He has been given a bunch of coconuts to feast on, which certainly hasn't helped Dew's mood any. After a particularly loud crack, the necromancer deigns to glance down at the content, slightly dopey dino. "So anyway. All in favour of putting that thing *anywhere* else?"

---

Somewhere only the gods know:
"Looks like they don't consider you the culprit." Petra floats over to Grawissen, her face twisted in an angry scowl. "I have half a mind to go down there and inform them of your culpability. What were you thinking? Sanctuary is meant to be a place where the mortals can focus only on growing and learning in peace and harmony. The curse may have been from Alatadriel, but I hold you responsible for your haphazard scattering of them around the globe." She exhales deeply, conjuring up a small flower to hand to Grawissen. A small bloom of a brilliant bluebell, nestled safely in a clod of wet earth."Mortals are such... sweet fragile things. We can't be haphazard when we deal with them. Else, they might break. Just like how this flower will wilt and wither without a hand to tend to it. I won't tell the mortals what you did. At least if you can show me you have learned a lesson. I shall see you around. I have a lot of work to attend to."

---

Within the passing:
The sensation of someone being imbued with divine power is unmistakeable. Peter is busy directing a simple rainshower to refresh parts of the southern continent when he feels the surge of energy coming from Ymon-Thal. He briefly sends his presence to the underworld, catching sight of the blessed mortal soul. She has been given an important task, and such an important office requires a proper regalia. He begins his work in earnest. From the beaches he gathers up seafoam, from which he weaves a cape light as a feather, yet strong as ice. From the depths of the ocean he gathers branches of colourful coral, which he fashions into a tiara with sixteen pointed spires, each spire a different colour, from pastel pink to radiant gold. From the Moonpool he gathers up nacre from the many oysters and mollusks that thrive within it's healing waters, and from this he fashions a brilliant scepter. At the very tip is a pearl. Half black, half white. And from seaweed he weaves a book whose pages are written upon with the merest thought.

These four gifts he carries with him to the Passing, presenting them with a flourishing bow. "Hiya Ymon. Greetings Thal. Your endeavours please me, and so I shall gift these signs of the new office. May your chosen soul prove worthy of the office bestowed upon her."

+2 Water. The cloak of the sea, which is beautiful and lightweight and made to fit Thal-Verys perfectly. It is as flexible as mist, but can be as hard as ice.
+2 Healing. The book of souls. A reference document to be used to keep track of all the paper work Thal-Verys no doubt has to suffer through.
+0 Moonpool. The moonpool can't exactly help Thal-Verys in her task, but at least it provided pearls for a beautiful staff with which Thal-Verys can command the healing waters of the passing.
+1 Rainbow. The crown of coral. A brilliant symbol of authority. And also generally very pretty.

[The JoJo]

Avestra, Moonpool, Sanctuary Island, 42 AP

The flock of doves above the lake scattered and then a moment later, the shadow of a giant falcon passed over the crowd. The voice which emanated from the shape was cold but methodical, seemingly coming from all directions.

"Nature is a constant battle for survival. But for this child, I will offer a truce. No wild creature shall ever cause harm to him and at times of need, they will come to his aid." Avestra let this sink in. "Should he ever break this truce, however, then the whole of nature shall become his sworn enemy. I hope it may never come to that."


Assist Petr with the creation of the demigod Nerassus with 2+ nature.

Avestra blesses Nerassus so that no wild creature (sentient mortals and minions excepted) will cause him harm, and indeed will come to aid in times of need. Should he ever intentionally cause any wild animal to come to harm, however, the truce will be considered broken and the whole natural world will become his sworn enemy. Eating meat and using animal products is permitted, provided they were farmed rather than hunted from the wild.




~

As Avestra was soaring back to Sunset Forest, admiring the rising sun's rays over the eastern ocean, she felt a ripple through reality. A new plane, this one to host a home for the gods themselves. Avestra thought it unlikely that she would find anywhere better to roost than her familiar perch, but nevertheless, she had an inkling for what she could use her allotted section for.


Assist Timorin with creating the divine world with +2 nature, +2 birds.

Avestra's segment is a warm, shallow lake, in the centre of which lies an overgrown island. All manner of rare and endangered species can be found on this island, living side by side in a way that would make no sense in reality. A bevy of giant swans encircle the lake, guarding the island from any interlopers who might seek to cause its residents harm.

For her divine device, if you could call it that, Avestra fashioned her into the shape of a moss-covered overturned log, at its centre a tunnel no more than twelve inches across at its narrowest point. This, if somebody crawled down it, would take them straight to the island and back again. Once her creation was finished, Avestra tossed it a few hundred yards away from the foot of her sacred tree, to keep it safe until there came a time when it might be useful.

[Maryring]

The Diviworld:
This new plane is plain. Plains upon plains upon flat, featureless plains as far as the eye can see. This simply will not do. With a wave of their hand, the plains sink to create a massive ocean of churning waters. Depths teeming with colourful life as anemones and corals spring up. Islands of unique single biomes dot the blue landscape. One contains only black, volcanic sand, another is an endless field of colourful flowers. The further away from the castle one gets, the colder it becomes. Islands are replaced by ice floes. The white grows denser and denser until it forms an impossibly tall, impenetrable wall of thick, white ice. Small aquatic fungi and flowers bloom against the rocky bottom of the sea, but no truly complex life is created. No mammals or sharks. Neither seabird nor fish. This is clearly just the beginning, so further life will have to be created at a later time, when Petr better understands what exactly Timorin has planned for this place.

At the other end, where the central castle rests, Petr forms their part of the castle into a beautiful garden. Small islands that rise between rivers of crystal clear water. Bridges of white wood connect all the various islands, and the garden ends in a massive waterfall that spills down into the oceans below. Every island has a unique flower or fruit tree growing upon it, and these trees are always heavy with fruit. Benches and tables of various sizes have been spread throughout the garden, and small games have been laid out for people to play with. Every tenth or so island has a gazebo upon it, and these small structures always seem to have pitchers of sweet fruit juice available. Near the centre of the garden is a small cave of coral where there are beds to rest upon.

+2 Water to create a massive ocean, as well as a floating garden.

[Godzillarich]

Grawissen, 34/50 AP - Grawpolis

“I’m glad you’re enjoying yourself mighty Grawissen.” king Ostrom asked, as he sipped his wine around the dinner table. “I also see that you got a little bit… Creative…”

Attempted to be polite and eat some of the stuff off the table, unfortunately, all of it just fell through his rib cage. “Yes... I hope they will help... the wilderness pursuit of knowledge…”

The King then lifted himself off his chair. He walked to the window still holding his wine. “I understand you know our situation…” the King stared at one of The Al-Sinai’s flags flying outside. “We did not want to get to this point, we were once a free kingdom but now we can only grovel towards the Al-Sinai.”

Graw stopped gulping down the food. “How much of they been affecting your research?”

The king simply shook his head “You seem to have caught on with the errors. To the Al-Sinai facts can take a backsea...”

Just then a divine visitor came teleporting in, interrupting the conversation.




Somewhere only the gods know:
"Looks like they don't consider you the culprit." Petra floats over to Grawissen, her face twisted in an angry scowl. "I have half a mind to go down there and inform them of your culpability. What were you thinking? Sanctuary is meant to be a place where the mortals can focus only on growing and learning in peace and harmony.

“Petr? What is wrong? Culprit of what? You mean the Ceratopsian they would anythi...

Petr then threw down the corpse of The Terror that was killed by a coconut. “what in the world?


...The curse may have been from Alatadriel, but I hold you responsible for your haphazard scattering of them around the globe."

“Alatadriel?” Graw then scanned the corpse, he noticed the extreme burning rage in them, a burning completely identical to Alatadriel. “...is this what she did... She turned them into…


She exhales deeply, conjuring up a small flower to hand to Grawissen. A small bloom of a brilliant bluebell, nestled safely in a clod of wet earth."Mortals are such... sweet fragile things. We can't be haphazard when we deal with them. Else, they might break. Just like how this flower will wilt and wither without a hand to tend to it. I won't tell the mortals what you did. At least if you can show me you have learned a lesson. I shall see you around. I have a lot of work to attend to."

After Petr the room became quiet. Then the ground started to shake. “Alatadriel… Graw mumbled as the room continued to shake, becoming more and more powerful by the second. Graw then raised his pickax to the air. “ALATADRIEL!” he screamed as he slammed the pickax down. A massive pillar of rock shot upwards launching Graw into the sky and out of sight.

The King simply stood there trying his best to keep his composure. ”Okay… We’ll talk about this later.”

[AlexanderML]

"Verys of the Aeons, blessed by Nestellbam, be gone. Be reborn as Thal-Verys of the Passing, chosen by Ymon-Thal", spoke Ymon-Thal.


It seemed that the two suns of both worlds moved as it spoke it's strangely duel voice. It was not angry or sadistic, just resolute and sad in it's words as it spoke to the one that'd become a demi-goddess.

"Mortals should never rise above their position and to help one do so is an obscene act. For while glory is in store for those among mortal-kind, it is in something better than this divinity." The suns paused. "Please, little one, do not become like them."

It's really hard to tell, but if you stared at the sun it's wobble to those it was talking to might look like something from emotional fatigue, the closest equivalent being a sigh. "I shall not stop this, but if you decide to move along this path know that I shall never wish to see you again, and you shall never see the beauty of things made from the divine."

+1 Majesty +1 Sun (Yir's not really trying)

Yir cannot look upon a creature that makes it so sad, and so anywhere Thal-Verys goes with a sun in the sky becomes dark, cold, and filled with growing silent grief. Any who gaze upon them will feel the off aura the demi-goddess has and naturally avoid the living ill-omen. Friends can be made, and those that get to know Thal-Verys personally will have an easier time ignoring this sad lack of pure light. This effect is greatly reduced during the night or when Thal-Verys is far away from a sun.

+1 Perfection

Those objects created by the gods hold no beauty to the demi-goddesses eyes, they can only be appreciated by Thal-Verys purely for their practical uses and even then this appreciation is dampened a bit. This has no effect on mortal made copies of divine works.


Yir Above the Divine World:

A copy of Yir appeared in the center of the Divine World, above all the other sections. It scoffed at the ridiculous realm that the godling had created. Yir wished to leave, to not participate in such nonsense and to protect any others that did not, but it also did not wish to outright destroy the creation that Timorin had made.

Yir began to move from the center of the divine world, to the edge of the sky of one of the sections and began to move across to the other realms, for even here Yir would not deny any it's light without cause.

The part of the castle that was set aside for Yir was almost torn apart to such a level that it was left very bare, becoming a sub-section of the city-castle that acted as a temple. It held an open roof, and no matter where one came from in the miles wide castle and massive realms; all entrances to this part of the castle lead to a singular room (of grand size, but still compared to what a section of the castle should be it was minuscule). It held a simple majesty, holding an aura of peaceful purity, and it would be a place where it would hear those that would wish to speak with the sun. It would always be lonely here, a place too sacred to make casual visits by mortals.

While Yir would help in the foundation of this realm, it absolutely refused to play in the godling's games, it would not accept the judgement of others. It made it's section of the realm incredibly small on purpose in a token effort; however, it still filled this place with a singular beautiful beach. It lie near a large forested hill, with the empty visage of a humble town of gold and marble able to be seen from the beach side.

+2 Sun: Yir has a copy of itself move over all the sections of the divine world, for it's light makes this place more solid. It will however drag over it's own section for nine hours, while only giving a single hour to all the others.

+2 Majesty: Yir creates the majestic Sacred Temple and the blissful Promised Hills for the divine world.

-2 Arrogance: Yir makes it so that the Sacred Temple and Promised Hills do not change in size or shape depending on how others view Yir, refusing to heed to the judgement of others.

[Godzillarich]

Alatadriel sat in her abode, in front of a large table, her clockwork watches in various levels of managment. "No, no. It's just not quite right." She floated a watch into the disused pile as she brought in another watch case. "Gold, silver? No, no. It has to be perfect. Not something tacky like that. Bronze with... Silver linings. Yeah." Alatadriel's slender fingers started to slowly place gears into the watch case.

(CRASH)

Suddenly Graw burst through the ceiling causing everything but the goddess to go flying. Graw turned towards Alatadriel, despite Graw not having eyeballs she could see the fury emanating from him, and emotion she was honestly surprised the bone God even had.

“HOW ****ING DARE YOU!” Graw yelled as he slammed the dead corpse of the terror he was given to by Petr. “WHAT HAVE YOU DONE!” he yelled pointing at the corpse.

Alatadriel went into a flurry snapping her items back into place. The hole in her ceiling was being repaired as she tried to get her assorted junk into their piles across the various tables. She continuned snapping her fingers as she talked. "Graw, you better have a good reason to interrupt me in my own home." She brought her watch case back one of the gears was bent and misshapen. "Agh! Do you have any idea how long it's going to take me to make that gear! It was central to the entire creation! I've got a deadline to meet with this divivice, and you ruin my work!"

Graw without hesitation grabbed her head pulled it towards the corpse. “WHAT HAVE YOU DONE TO MY CHILDREN!” he then let go of her. “Why do they look like that! Why are they killing people! Why do I since your magic on them!”

"YOU ****ING TOUCH ME AGAIN AND YOUR HEAD IS BEING SENT BACK AS A TROPHY!" A large sword was pulled into Alatadriel's grip as she took a battle stance against Grawissen.

Graw readied his pickax. “I demand answers! WHAT DID YOU DO TO THEM!” it looks like at any moment one of the gods will for the first swing.

"WHAT! THEY'RE LIKE A BIG ****ING BIRD I MET ONCE, BUT COOLER! I THINK IT'S PRETTY SELF EVIDENT! YOU WERE THERE WHEN I DID THIS YOU IDIOT! ARE YOU SO STUPID THAT YOU CAN'T EVEN RECOGNIZE AN INSULT TO YOUR FACE!"

“THOUSANDS OF PEOPLE ARE DEAD BECAUSE OF YOU!“ In that moment Graw Slammed his pickax across the foxes face, sending her flying from miles on end. Graw then launched himself in the air to follow her. She landed in an uninhabited part of the desert. Graw then landed on top of her. “You will bleed a thousandfold for every innocent life taken because of your pride!” he then lifted up his pickax.

Alatadriel lifted up Graw Singlehandedly. Flames burst from her, turning the sand into glass as she threw Graw head first into a sand dune. "PEOPLE DIE!" She said picking up her weapon again, a blue flame licking the blade. "People die of their own decisions. Would you really be childish enough to deny them that freedom? I instilled a tendency, nothing more. Thousands, if not millions of people die whenever we leave. Don't beset humanity as if it's fragile. They will learn to grow through this. Each man dead, another lives when we are gone." Alatadriel threw her blade into the dune, the dune exploding as the flames froze the sane midflight, shards of glass shattering as the blade flew back towards it's owner.

When the dust settled Graw was gone. Suddenly something grabbed Alatadriel feet pulling them into the earth. “THIS WAS NOT THERE CHOOSE!” he yelled as he pulled her at incredible speeds across the desert. Suddenly a giant rock emerged in front of her. She slammed directly into the rock. “The Terrors did not have a choice to become killers…” Then a steel rock emerged from the ground with her being slammed into that one as well, continuing on their way. “... My people or the people of the desert did not choose to become your Empire severance…” Then a massive platinum rock emerged from the ground the Fox God was slammed into that one as well. Graw then emerged from the ground and throw Alatadriel. Graw was covered in glass and burn marks many of its shattering his bones, some of them fully falling off. “...you say you do what’s best for mortals…” then a massive chunk of diamond rock emerged from the ground. ” ...but at the end of the day you do it for your own pride…” He then slammed the massive diamond rock onto his adversary.

Alatadriel stopped the rock with her hand. Her heavy working tinker outfit was tore in several places, and a large gash extended over her stomach, and part of her face. "You do realize that material weapons will not at the end of the day hurt either of us. It pisses me off more than anything! We are as ephemeral as your idea of choice." Alatadriel punched the diamond rock, it shattering into pieces. "And things we find precious are not that strong." Alatadriel took her massive blade and sliced through the platinum rock, it boiling back into the sand. "The Terrors are free to fight against their nature. They are no more violent than that of a crocodile or wolverine." Alatadriel picked up the boulder of steel and threw it overhanded towards Graw. "They are just smarter than those animals." Alatadriel extended her fists and gouts of flame hit against the steel boulders, melting large chunks of it, falling towards Graw. "And yes, they did in fact choose. In fact many areas did not join my Empire. And you act as if my Empire is cruel. They are no more cruel and meanspirited than your own people. They are just people. People with more power than yours."

Graw block the rocks heading towards him with a mighty rock wall! “I will tear you limb from limb you traitorous…”

“Grawissen!” a voice suddenly rang out stopping both of them. They turned and saw a
Ceratopsian sitting watching. “Stop this at once…”

“She cannot just walk away after which he did…” he said as he turned his head back towards Alatadriel. “Not after all the corpses she laid.”

The Ceratopsian sat down. “Will this bring them back. Will this free your city, will this stop the Empire. No, the dead are already buried and killing her will only bring more suffering. They may be gone but the stories will not be forgotten, and neither are the terrors doomed to be monsters forever.”

Graw lowered his pickax.

The Ceratopsian then turned his attention to the Fox. "Don't be mistaken, I have a strong hatred for what you have done to the Terrors, my siblings but I understand this will solve nothing."

As he was talking more and more people circled them. From Al-Sinai to Prehist to orcs to Ceratopsian to foxes

Alatdriel changed into a more dignified outfit with a snap of her fingers. "I never had any desire to fight in the first place, Unwise God of Knowledge. Your debt to me has already been paid. Nor did I kill anyone, or care what happens to your creations. Your people are your own buisness, and keep it out of mine, please."

________________

“Grawissen what the hell happened?” the king yelled out as Graw somewhat broken body walked in.

He simply ignored the king as he walked towards a Willy rhino skeleton the King had in his collection. “I messed up, I messed up my children, and I messed up our cities relationship all because of my anger. “ he then touched the skeleton. “You people need a protector, one that is wiser, one that can fix the God’s mistakes.

Create a +2 domain/-2 weakness demigod

Name: Deja Vu

Theme song: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dv13gl0a-FA

Domain: +2 heroism

Description: A shadowy anthropomorphized woolly rhino spirit. Its fur is blue, it’s horns are black and are harder than diamonds along with its fists. It wears a pink leather jacket and cool purple shades.

It does not have a physical body but can interact with the world by briefly fusing with those in need giving them enhanced powers. Acting like a stand from JoJo’s bizarre adventure. The person they fuse with will be given enhanced physical abilities and the ability to use déjà vu for combat. Déjà vu can only fuse with those with a kind heart
and the will and need to help others in danger.

The reason that Graw has put this restriction was he has been aware that the gods have clouded in their power. Restricting him to helping mortals in need will hopefully make sure déjà vu doesn’t fall to the same delusions.

+2 knowledge: a master at combat techniques, will always know what is happening in a situation so it doesn’t make a stupid mistake.

+2 mining: déjà vu physical essence is harder than the hardest material, he also makes his user extremely durable. Its main ability is to allow to transform into any physical earth-based material of its choosing along with its host. ( like Stone, diamond, copper, glass.) He can also change the elements of any non-living thing into a different material.

+2 architecture ( pickax): imbued with the power of the pickax déjà vu is absolutely fabulous, looking like a gorgeous piece of art.

+1 writing: one of the special abilities is being able to send written messages long distances instantaneously. Giving people warnings of impending danger. This is one of his few abilities he can do without the help of a mortal.


Graw also realized he needed to repay Petr for the trouble he calls to her people. “I apologize for the mistakes I’ve made I hope this can help mend our broken bond.”
Nerassus
+2 knowledge: they will become wiser and wiser over the years, learning from their past mistakes and becoming better.
+2 mining: they will be forged the mighty suit of armor, this armor is practically impenetrable
+2 architecture (pickax): he will be an extraordinary artist, his craftsmanship shall be remembered far and wide.
+1 writing: there is no such thing as a language barrier.

“I shall help you to Ymon-Thal, an apology for the mistake my people made about you.”

Thal-Verys
+2 knowledge: They will be able to remember every soul that comes by them, this is to make sure the souls do not get lost.
+2 mining: deep in the caverns of the passing nothing will be lost to them, will be able to find souls there lost and bring them to the light.


Yes Timorin, your realm will be a crucial help to me and I shall help you

Plane of Reality
+2 knowledge: all with the gods have discovered will be stored in this area free to be read by the other gods.
+2 architecture: the place is has a beautiful palace for each of the gods.
+1 writing: there’s a lot of great books to read

[Demonjazz]

Alatadriel reappeared as the demigod of shadow was being formed in front of Grawissen. "By the way, I lied about being even. You still wrecked my house, ruined my creation, and not only touched me without permission, but fought me and ruined my beautiful tails, and my ear will probably be broken for a day and a half. The only reason I didn't cut your head off right there was because I didn't want to cause a scene."
"This should almost make us even."

+2 From Fire, The kind heart of the woolly rhino is corrupted and set ablaze. While it may only attach to people with kind hearts the beast itself is temperamental and prone to excessive use of force in its quest for justice.
+2 From Foxes, On top of his already violent spirit, the woolly rhino has the spirit of a trickster. Prone to tricking mortals into taking actions to further its own twisted sense of justice and dealing out ironic karmic punishments to those it deems worthy of its ire.
+1 From BEEEES! The beast has a honeyed tongue, like an assassin pouring poison into an ear it's words can infect the mind of who it possesses to believe that Deja Vu is a just soul.
-2 Arrogance from her normal pettiness and anger stopping her from putting her all into it.

[Maryring]

"Hrm. You wish for him to understand what it is like to be a mortal?" Petr looks over Graw's shoulder at the spirit he is currently creating. "He isn't alive as such. It's a difficult task. But... I think I might be able to offer my assistance with that." With a careful touch, Petr weaves in a reflective bond in Graw's demigod spirit. A bond that will allow the spirit to truly feel what it's like when it binds itself to someone.

Petr creates a variant of lifeblood that makes Deja Vu fully link to the one they're possessing. They will feel the pains and aches, the limitations and sufferings, even damage is reflected upon him. He will also feel other emotions. Tenseness, joy, excitement, curiousity. All these things that motivate mortals and direct their actions.
+2 Water and +2 Healing for the creation of this lifeblood variant.
-2 Pain because this will teach Deja Vu about mortal suffering.

[gac3]

Timorin - The Baby Shower

Timorin is so excited to here that there was going to be a baby. Divine babies sound cool. Maybe he can babysit and explain how mortals work. What might a baby defender of an island need from Uncle Timorin? Timorin looked at the fancy new Chariot and imagined a baby warrior riding into battle. There was one thing missing from the image. A cape. Timorin quickly snatched his bedsheet off of his fancy new bed, in his new house, in his new realm. Then with an amberis knife began cutting it into the shape he wanted.

At the baby shower, Timorin steps up with a shifting rainbow baby bib in hand. "Let this mark their status and bring them style."

The Bib will grow with the baby into a full cape by the time the child is fully grown. The cape will be able to take on the form of different clothes depending on need while maintaining its rainbow magnificence. +2 Drama because the cape will draw the attention of all to that of the valiant defender as it shifts and glimors with every color of the rainbow. +2 War because the cape will signal to all those present that Nerassus has arrived. The rainbow cape will begin breaking down the resolve of foes while strengthening that of Allie's.


Timorin then goes off to enjoy the celebrations. After several hours and drinks, he notices one foxy lady. He goes up to her and says "Do you come here often? Because I brought beer."

[Garjel_blah]

Chern, 44/50 AP, the Passing

Chern had forgotten about Ymon-Thal's actions all those weeks ago. So when he died back at the No Name Dunes, he was surprised to find his divine soul reappeared in the Passing. Immediately the land around him wilted and died. He looked around. Even his shadow seemed to crumble into shadowy dust beside him.

"Even in the land of the decayed, my presence portends still more decay," Chern mourned. He began to slowly trudge through the amorphous land, rotting everything around him as he went. He missed Mila, but supposed that her absence meant that his oasis had successfully nourished her dying body. That was good for her at least.

He hadn't gone far before he spied Ymon-Thal standing with the dragon Nestellbam, and a woman who's voice he recognised as the one that had spoken the prophecy of Theshana. She was being deified. Gifts were bestowed upon her, as well as some curses. Chern waited, watching from between a pair of rapidly blackening hedges. She was to be a guardian and shepherd to the souls of the dead through the Passing. At some point, Thal-Verys was left alone beside the River of Absolute Purity, and Chern took his chance to approach.

"Your crown and cloak and lantern do justice to your noble station," he said by way of greeting as the grass dried and snapped beneath her feet, "but death is tiring, thankless work. There is nothing noble about death."

"No, nothing noble about death", she agreed. "But what about that which comes before and after it?"

Chern leaned down to the river and submerging a simplistic glass flask beneath the water's surface, causing it to gurgle softly as it filled.

"You are astute, and optimistic. That's good. Ymon-Thal and Nestellbam chose you well. Indeed, the before and after is why your work is so important. I want to help you maintain your optimism while you go about your important work."

Chern sprinkled a few powdery spores of glowloam into the flask and sealed it. He gave it a vigourous shake, suffusing a rich, luminous brown hue throughout the liquid. He handed the flask to Thal-Verys.

"Here, try some. Share it with the souls who struggle. It will take the edge off."

Help Ymon-Thal create a demigod

+1 Fermentation, Chern will give Thal-Verys a flask and the knowledge to brew a glowloam-based spirit called chum. She can carry this with her, sharing it with souls in need of consolation, or perhaps even celebration.

Thal-Verys eyed the flask suspiciously, holding it up towards the light. Then her eyes shifted to Chern, equally suspicious. Mysterious drink? Made from glowloams? Created by him?

Then again, she wasn't exactly the frail mortal she once had been. With a final glare at Chern she unsealed the bottle and swallowed a mouthful.

It wasn't bad. Certainly wasn't good either. But still... She slipped the bottle into her clothes and nodded at Chern. "Thank you for your gift, Wiltwatcher."

Chern inclined his masked head respectfully.

"You're most welcome. Now if you'd excuse me, I believe the exit is this way."

He then walked right past the demigod, and into the River of Absolute Purity, floating away like a drowned corpse.


---

Sanctuary Island

A splash caused ripples in the Moonpool, as something limp dropped into it from another plane of reality. Festival goers looked on from the bank, concerned. A few bubbles appeared, drawing closer and closer, until a man emerged from the water. No one present would've believed that man to be the god of decay, for it seemed even Chern could be cleansed by the River of Absolute Purity. The emaciated god looked healthier, stood straighter. His rags had been stitched together into an elegant tan-and-red toga, and his mask etched into the stylish affectation of a masquerade item. For the first time his hair was clean and luscious enough for him to see that it was salt-and-pepper grey in the pool's reflective surface.

"Oh..." he said to himself, in a voice far less raspy and foreboding than usual, running a finger through his hair. "This is new."

Chern mingled among the guests for a while, tasting the wines and the food, dodging Alatadriel as she stumbled drunkenly past to throw up in the Moonpool, and eventually found himself in the presence of the god Petr.

"Ah," he said with a dashing grin, bowing, "it is a pleasure to finally make the acquaintance of your avatar. I am Chern, the god of decay."

Petr is watching mortals performing a dance when Chern makes his appearance. The water being inclines her head politely and offers Chern a welcoming smile. "Chern! It is a pleasure to finally meet you. I must say, I wasn't sure you would come. I hope you will enjoy yourself."

"Why, I already am!" said Chern, toasting her with his goblet of wine. "You have a wonderful society here on Sanctuary. You are to be commended for it. Though I understand further congratulations are in order, for your child. Remember not to drink too much!"

"My thanks. But this is truly the efforts of mortals. I merely made them a place to call home. They were the ones who built a society in our absence." Petr accepts an opened coconut filled with pineapple juice from one of the mortals, and she uses the nut to toast back to Chern. "And indeed. I am hoping he will grow up strong and hearty, and able to spread the boons of this society. And I should thank you for your efforts. Without the understanding of decay some of the pygmies here brought with them, we wouldn't have such tasty drinks." Petr smiles, one hand resting on their own form.

Chern chuckled.

"They're not bad are they? Nothing like a swig of Starfolk chum to scald the innards. Indeed, mortals are the gift that keeps on giving. However, I want to bestow a gift of my own upon the child, if I may. So that nothing may impede his justice."

Help Petr create a demigod

+4 decay, blessing Nerassus with the ability to weaken those more powerful than himself.
-2 downtrodden, because he's giving more power to one who is already powerful, and because he's mingling in high society, which is very not-Chern.

[DarthArminius]

Baby Demi God

Su'ule, arrived at the Sanctuary Island, seeing the gods in attendance, blessing the demi god with their various gifts. Smiling, as if the dragon goddess could even smile, she gave a small, somewhat quiet laugh, for her. "Oh how cute." She stated. Breathing into the baby a magical gift, it was a flash of green energy coming from her maw. The baby Nerassus would have the power to father children at will with his lover/wife without the wife having pain. The child would be born healthy and strong. Furthermore, he would have the power to have monstrous children this way, and his child would even be magically gifted.

Help

+1 Birth
+2 Sorcery
+2 Monsters

[Megadraco]

Kahar-Djin, 30 AP, Sanctuary

Kahar-Djin assisted to the party, but didn't participate much. They gave their blessings to the mother and the son-to-be, of course, but then spent most of the nightfine-tuning the third gate, atuning it to the demigod's energy to allow them free passage through it even if they were ever to become a Su Speaker, while also making completely certain that no other Su Speaker would be able to pass through. They did, however bring a drink to share, a beverage formed by grinding or cutting a specific plant into very small pieces, placing them in a drinking vessel, filling it about three quarters with the leaves, pouring hot water on it, and drinking it through a metal straw with small holes, to filter out the leaves. He offered a sip to anyone who walked by, but most people grimaced at the bitter taste of it.

Kahar-Djin helps the action by modifying the gates so Nerassus may walk freely through them (+2 Thresholds), as well as blessing the demigod to be tireless in all their journeys (+1 Travellers)



The Maddening Marsh

Kahar-Djin went to visit Brom and his missionaries at the Marsh. The last time they'd seen the group, they had been trying, not very successfully, to get the local neanderthals to join their group. They expected it wouldn't be any easier if any had decided to embark upon the Path of Discipline.

However, as she approached, she immediately realized something was wrong. She could sense the scent of blood and dead. And indeed, as she drew near, she saw her followers mourning the lost and nursing the wounded. Close by, she spotted the corpses of some terrible, monstruous beings. Bron quickly noticed her, her armor shining bright, and he approached and kneeled before her, not saying a word. He was wearing a white sash, from his shoulder to his waist.

“Please, rise to your feet,” the divinity said, and Bron complied. “I see you have begun to travel the Path of Discipline. That is very good. But please, can you take me to one who can tell me what happened here?”

Bron bowed deeply and walked away, Kahar-Djin following behind. They were walking toward a man who was standing... Right within the reach of one of those monsters, this one alive! The Goddess raised her shield and started to dash, to interpose herself between them, but Bron lifted his hand, and she stopped to look. The man seemed to be speaking to the monster, in a strange, roaring language, and the creature appeared to be responding. Of course, her people's gift of language, passed down through the generations. But, wait, that would mean...

“Those creatures can speak?”

The man turned and bowed deeply. He was also wearing a white sash, though he was clearly not travelling the Path of Discipline. The man roared one final essage to the monster, before approaching her.

“Kahar-Djin, our goddess! I am blessed to be able to meet you. My name is Nio. And, you are right, they have the gift of speech, and sharp minds to go with it. This one is... Well, I hesitate to call her a prisoner. She came to us of her own accord, claiming to be different than the rest. She says most of her kind are filled with an overpowering bloodlust, driven to battle all they encounter. She herself claims to never have felt it herself.”

Kahar-Djin nodded, and approached the raptor. Immediately, she could sense she was telling the truth. She felt the creative energy from Grawissen, as well as the curse from Alatadriel, twisting it into its current shape. However, for one reason or another, the curse seemed strangely weak on her. The Divinity formed a Path between their minds, and immediately they understood the Terrors' language. Something kept nagging them, and they asked, in the strange, roaring tongue,

“How did you and your kind find yourselves in this land?”

”We do not know. One moment, we did not exist, the other, we were underground. We dug our way out, then found each other. There seemed to be no pattern to where we appeared."

The nagging feeling worsened. Kahar-Djin extended her domain throughout the world, superficially, and indeed, all over the world, she sensed people falling to the claws of these Terrors, as they claimed many lives indeed. Her hand curled into a fist, and she spoke out loud, to the Missionaries,

“You are not safe staying here! There could be more Terrors around, ready to attack on sight! Instead I tell you that there is a mountain range on the North of this continent. I urge you to make a pilgrimage toward it, to find the tallest mountain and build a way to its top, and erect a great gate so that none shall pass without permission! Make it a haven to those who seek to study the Way of the Cardinal Fist and travel the Path of Discipline, and perhaps, in time, any of the Paths of Divinity.”

The people moved immediately, gathering their belongings and paying their last respects to the dead. Some simply buried them, some did their best to set fire to the remains, some placed masks on their faces and glowloam on their bodies, countless little rituals, each fanning the flames of their anger a little higher. They had to choose who to direct it towards: Alatadriel, who had cursed the creatures in the first place, or Grawissen, who scattered the creatures throughout the world haphazardly, seemingly not caring who might be hurt in the act.

Then, they felt it. The ripple of creation. Grawissen, ever the fool, was apparently creating something even more powerful and dangerous, rather than making any attempts to fix the mess he made.

The decision, it is clear, was done.

(4 AP / 2 DC) Influence a large group of mortals

Kahar-Djin influenced the Missionaries to travel toward the mountains in the North of The Stricken Lands (+1 Travellers), make a Path up to the tallest mountain (+2 Paths) and make a great gate in that path (+2 Thresholds). However, both the land they must travel and the mountains they must reach are quite devoid of any noticeable civilization (-2 Unexplored)




Kahar-Djin bent the space between the marsh and Grawpolis. Two points folded together to create a Path allowing the traversal of thousands of miles in seconds. Behind Grawissen, there was a shimmer in the air, and instants later stood a woman in shining metal armor, so bright it looked like it was glowing with its own inner light, a huge shield in her hands.

"A demigod, Grawissen," she began. "Truly? After that tremendous mishap, scattering those terrible creatures throughout all the known world and endangering dozens of thousands of lives in a careless display of power, you think the way to atone is to bring an even more powerful being into existence?"

Graw turned to face Kahar-Djin, many of its bone still cracked and shattered.

"We have lost touch with mortals... to most of us... there just specks of dust in the wind... A playground to play with... unknowing or uncaring of the... consequences of what we make..." Graw then turned back towards the woolly rhino bones. "I want to make up for that... to give them someone... with our power of a god but with the essence of a mortal."

The divinity furrowed her brow.

"Give a mortal that power, then. Allow them to do with it as they please, rather than granting the power will and letting it act on its whim alone. Your last creation has already caused so much pain and suffering..."

"it will bond with.. those with hearts that are pure... and wills made of steel." He then adjusted the bones of this project. "Besides... you think we are completely infallible... you came here yourself... to tell me how much I messed up with the terrors... we can make horrific mistakes... That can be even more horrible... than what mortal could ever do...

"It is because I think you are fallible," she replied. "That I do not believe this creation of yours is a good idea. By giving it divine will, crafted by your hand, are you not creating an extension of yourself, that might be prone to your same mistakes? Because, as much as you claim otherwise, this construct," she gestured toward the demigod, "at its core, is not a mortal. It is a divine being."

"then I ask... Would you help me... from making the same mistake...what can I give him to make sure he doesn't lose his way..."

Kahar-Djin looked into Grawissen's eye sockets, and answered.

"I do not know.”

“I did not come here to aid you in your creation." A Threshold began to form around the demigod's hands, like a pair of manacles. "I came here to ensure that you do not cause more needless harm and destruction with a power I no longer believe you to be fit to wield."

Graw simply turned away. "then do as you wish..."

Kahar-Djin hinders Deja Vu by determining a Threshold it cannot cross (-2 Thresholds): It cannot take a life. This isn't to say that some terrible event will happen if Deja Vu takes a life; it, and whoever is bonded to it, will be unable to take any action that would result in a mortal's death, no matter the circumstances. If they try, they will find themselves paralized, unable to move unless they change their course of action. Even if due to some circumstance the only way to save a life would be to take another, they will be unable to do so. The ability to deal death was taken from them and eternally locked behind an impassable Threshold.

[Garjel_blah]

Chern, 44/50 AP, Diviworld

The glamourised and highly intoxicated avatar of Chern popped into existence in his as-of-yet blank sixteenth of Timorin's alternate plane of reality. Beside him, arm interwoven with his own, was the buxom daughter of Dew'eyera, Sanctuary's Master Necromancer.

"Here we are!" Chern announced triumphantly, his words slurring just a little. "A whole new world... Quite literally. Timorin only just put it together. In fact it's so new, it may not even really exist yet, it could collapse in on itself any minute now!"

"Wow," said the young woman who's name Chern didn't quite remember, with a little less enthusiasm than he'd been hoping for. "Why's it so empty?"

"This is all my land," the Wiltwatcher explained hurriedly. "Timorin he, he put all this aside so that I could make something of my own, you see?"

"Right. Does Ymon-Thal have a place here too?"

"Oh yes, and so does Petr. All the gods have their own little area. Alatadriel has a mansion over there, Grawissen's got a library..."

"What are you going to put here then? Like a swamp?"

"Um..." Chern had in fact been intending to put a swamp full of rot and decay in his quadrant of the Diviworld, but the condescension being levelled at him through his date's dark eye-shadow forced him to reconsider. "I was still, er, thinking about it. But somewhere fun you know? Somewhere you can have a bit of a party. Something like a, uh..."

"Lame," she said, dealing Chern a greater wound than any sword could ever inflict with one drawled syllable. "You should make a ruin."

"Eh?"

"I love ruins. There're ruins in Sanctuary that are as old as the island itself, with the original Grawissen architecture. Dad uses them for his seances."

"Ahh..."

"But I like to visit them when no one's around. Bring a book, lay around on the crumbling battlements... Ruins are pretty hot, man."

"Oh!" Chern's eyes began to glow yellow, as he exerted his influence on the malleable space around them. "Say no more, my dear!"

Help Timorin create a plane of reality

+4 decay, to turn his part of the diviworld into a spectacular ruined castle, full of dust and howling winds, overgrown with foliage and riddled with hazardous structural damage, from the deepest dungeons to the tallest towers. It will also be located in the middle of a swamp, because Chern is a strong independent male-identifying god who don't need no mortal (although deep down he kind of does, sad Chern).

For the device, Chern will style his after an hour glass, but full of glowloam instead of sand.

[The JoJo]

Juniper, Sunset Forest, Ebonbark Bay

Juniper grew quickly in the care of the Crow People. It wasn't long before he was a rambunctious boy of eight, popular among the elders for his sociality and eagerness to please, though he openly distained the common epithet "babyface". His peers, on the other hand, tended to regard him with cooler attitudes. As much as Juniper tried, he didn't have the attention span to sit for hours on end, observing the precise ritual to create amberis, or to trace ornate patterns in the dirt with sticks as the born-Crow children did. But that didn't matter for the most part, as the trees around him provided more than adequate company.

The sweep of a birch tree's branches told him that heavy rain would be expected from the coast that afternoon. The shudder of an oak revealed a nasty fungal infection. The bounce of pine sapling told him... he wasn't quite sure. The closest read he could get was "horn-four-legged-bird", but what sense did that make?

"Juniper?" he heard his mother call. The small boy reluctantly shimmied back down his favourite oak tree to where she was waiting. "The elder must see you."

Not many Crow made it to an advanced age, and so those which did were treated with a near veneration. Juniper bobbed his head to the withered skeleton who gestured for him to sit opposite. There were two other elders which Juniper didn't recognise and assumed must be from other Crow tribes.

"Thank you, Juniper," the elder said. He handed the small boy a leatherbound rectangular box, which opened up to reveal countless pages covered in neat scribbles. "We found these left by the edge of the forest, the Fox People we believe. Can you tell us what these are?"

Juniper stared at the curling lines, trying to make some sense of them. Certain symbols repeated again and again, but none looked like anything recognisable.

"I... I don't know," he finally admitted. "They just look like lines."

"Very well. Thank you. You may go."

The elder didn't say anything more, but Juniper could see the disappointment in his eyes. He shuffled out of the makeshift hut, not feeling in the mood to play in the trees any longer, so he instead wandered down to the river where he could be alone. He began trying to skim stones, most of which landed with a heavy splash. He didn't even notice his mother until she put a hand on his shoulder.

"It's not fair," Juniper said. He didn't need to say anything else. His mother always understood him. She knelt down so they were face-to-face.

"Crow is not here," she said, pointing at her brow. She put her rough hand over his bare chest, pressing against his beating heart. "Crow is here."


~

Avestra, Eaglebeak Rock, Kanto Desert

Meanwhile, the true Great Crow was far from her familiar forest. Instead the duststrewn rocks of the Kanto Desert lay beneath her, stretching out to the horizon and beyond. A more barren place Avestra could not have imagined, but even here, life somehow clung on. Bushes with thorn-like leaves to retain water. Frogs that could survive for over a year without a drop to drink. A mountain goat, its tawny fur blending in perfectly with the landscape around it.

Such an inhospitable land was home to few humans, and far fewer of any other race. The perfect place to set her plan in motion. She began to beat her wings, moulding a cave into the slanted mountain in front of her. Eaglebeak Rock, as it would become known, was about to become home to a new curiosity.



Create 2+ religion artefact 16 AP, 12 DC -- The Otherworld Amulet, 2+ Dreams -- with +2 nature and +2 birds.

In a cave close to the summit of the great Eaglebeak Rock, rests the Otherworld Amulet. Forged from amberis extracted from Avestra's own sacred perch, it is guarded day and night by a vicious flock of rabid vultures who roost in the cave.

There a tale among the local nomads that one day, a great leader will prove themselves by entering into the cave without armour and or weapons of any kind, yet will return with the amulet unharmed. The truth of this is uncertain, but anyone who sleeps wearing the amulet will have the ability to enter into any concurrently sleeping being's dreams and in turn influence them in subtle ways.

For mortal users, however, this can come at a terrible cost. Repeated use of the amulet can eventually lead to insanity, as the bearer loses the ability to tell the difference between reality and dreams. They will live in the constant terror of the One Who Stalks At Night, finally understanding the truth -- that inside the amulet is a shard of Avestra's divine soul, and she knows everything that occurs within its bounds.

[Batcathat]

Ymon-Thal, 32/50 AP, Sanctuary

"Hey, I’m kind of fighting against these raptors things. Might have been a bit responsible for that. Mind helping me though, unite the land and everything… Ugh, My head still hurts.”

"We don't mind!" Ymon promised as Thal buried his face in his hands but not actually contradicting his livelier self.

The fox goddess explained some of her ideas for bringing the people together.

"I do not understand while mortals argue over these petty differences. Like different kinds of ants fighting each other."

"Ants do fight each other!" Ymon half-shouted. "Don't you remember? In the jungle! There was this big ant hill with the small black ones and then...then there were these bigger brown ones and..."

"Fine. We will help."


Ymon-Thal assists Aladriel in influencing mortals to tolerate each other better by causing some to have random glimpses into past lives (+ 2 Life) as members of different races and cultures.



***

”Ooooh...”, Ymon said softly as he floated a few feet above the ground of Sanctuary, slowly spinning around his own axis and bumping into the occasional tree branch.
Some time — hours? days? eons? — had passed since the chat with Alatadriel but with what was a little unclear.

"You do realize you can't actually get intoxicated, don't you?" Thal was sitting under one of the trees in the otherwise seemingly empty forest.

"I can pretend, I'm real good at pretend", Ymon replied, the edges of his words blurry.

Thal flew up to his other self and stopped his rotation with firm hand on the shoulder. "In any case, the party is over, and we have far more important things to do."

"Yeah, yeah", the God of Life mumbled. "I just gonna leave a present for the baby."

"Fetus."

After a few unsuccessful attempts Ymon snapped his fingers and reality responded accordingly.


Ymon-Thal assists Petr in the creation of Nerassus, granting the demigod the ability to sense souls around him, becoming aware of any living (+2 Life) soul in his vicinity.

[Garjel_blah]

Chern, 44/50 AP, No Name Oasis

It was mid-afternoon, and the sun's heat was at its unbearable peak. Luckily the palm trees provided ample shade, and the spring water was cool and refreshing. Mila reclined beside a pile of fresh dates, the scroll of the Path of Squalor propped up against the knee of her good leg. She'd spend a month now recovering in the oasis, entirely alone since Cherlie had died, with the exception of one day when a pair of scouts had shown up speaking a foreign language. Other than that one incident, she passed the time by gathering food, swimming, and studying the mysterious scroll.

The information it contained was... Mila didn't quite know what to make of it. Parts of it were fascinating and quite invaluable to her, but other parts just seemed so eldritch. One thing she did know for certain was that it couldn't be a coincidence that she'd ended up in this place, and found this obviously sacred text. The hand of Kahar-Djin had to be guiding her... Or at least the hand of something just as powerful.

She was just reading a very useful section on the squalid travellers ability to subsist in poverty, which was highly pertinent to her current situation as the oasis's bounty became more scarce, when she heard a sound. Rustling in the undergrowth. Again? How many people came through this damn desert? Mila set aside the scroll and pushed herself up with her crutch.

"Who's there?" she demanded. Now she saw the plants visibly twitching, as whatever it was drew closer. Then, with a final flourish, the foliage was whipped apart to reveal two strangers. One was an oddly familiar man in a snug brown toga, hair and chin a luscious salt-and-paper grey around his lavishly engraved white domino mask. The other was an alluring young woman with raven hair and dark make-up, her jewellery and clothing bearing designs strangely reminiscent of those she'd seen among the followers of Ymon-Thal in Boa Jungle, but fashioned in ways obviously far more advanced. Mila goggled at them, crutch raised in self defence.

"Aha!" exclaimed the man. "So you are still here! I'm so glad that you're okay Mila."

"Is that... Cherlie?" Mila gasped. "I saw you die!"

"Nonsense," said Chern, "I feel better than ever."

"A vulture was literally eating your corpse."

"A passing nuisance, nothing more. But where are my manners! Mila, meet... Er..."

"I don't see how you can keep forgetting my name." the woman said quite matter-of-factly, hiding her offence with a swig of some richly shimmering brew from a crystal goblet. "Can't you just read my mind with your god powers or some lofty crap like that?"

"A gentleman never invades a woman's psyche!" Chern blustered with indignation. "Plus, I have had rather a lot to drink."

"Did I hear that right?" Mila interjected. "Did she just say you have god powers?"

Chern didn't have time to give input on this point. For something else had been creeping through the oasis, with much more stealth and menace than Chern had, and at that moment it revealed itself in a flurry of teeth and claws. The moody necromancer's daughter shrieked as the raptor fell on Chern from behind, knocking him to the ground and chomping down on his head. Chern barely had time to shout, before the raptor tore his head clean off with its powerful jaws, and flung it into the air. The god's decapitated head landed between the two women, eyes widened stupidly in surprise behind his cracked white mask.

"Oh gods, oh Ymon-Thal..."

"Kahar-Djin preserve us. What is that thing?"

"Ugh... Damn it, Grawissen."

While the raptor busied itself with devouring Chern's corpse, Mila and the necromancer's daughter wheeled around to find another Chern crawling out of the sand. He'd reverted to his usual form, his frail and filthy body clad in rags, his eyes bulbous and glowing deep in the sockets of his mask like the fungus that he so often used to manifest his will. He stooped, picking up the head of his much handsomer self.

"It was never going to last..." Chern rasped despondently at the head.

"Chern what... What happened to you?" his date asked, failing to hide her revulsion.

"I think it's time you go home now." Chern dropped the head and looked at her. "This was fun while it lasted. Come visit the ruins some time."

Chern tossed her one of his hour glass diviworld devices, then before she had a chance to say anything dissolved her into dust. She'd reappear back on Sanctuary, safe and sound. Meanwhile, the raptor had sensed the new intruder, and was now glaring back at him and Mila. It hissed.

"Cherlie, Chern- whoever you are," Mila stammered, backing away, "can you kill this thing?"

"I can," said Chern, "but I won't, Mila. This is no ordinary beast. It is more like you than you think."

"What?"

The raptor sprung again, again at Chern who was the closest. Its massive toe claw swiped at the god, tearing him open from neck to groin, spattering the sand with foul-smelling guts and ichor. Chern slumped, and the raptor turned itself towards Mila. She raised her crutch once again. Before she had a chance to use it, Chern once again appeared out of the sand, directly between her and the blood-stained beast.

"Go to the water and submerge yourself in it," Chern ordered Mila, staring down the snarling raptor, "take your scroll. Don't leave until I come to you. You'll be safe there."

"What the hell are you doing?!" Mila demanded, picking up the scroll with her free hand as she limped backwards.

"Call it forging an understa-" The raptor fell on Chern once again, roaring furiously as it rent him limb from bloody limb. Mila turned and ran as fast as she could for the oasis springs.

Influence about ten thousand raptors, plus Mila and his date I guess (10 AP/6 DC)

+4 decay, as Chern is allowing his avatar to be repeatedly destroyed in this endeavour

Chern is going to attempt to wrangle all the raptors around the Three Deserts, by allowing them to attack him as much as they like until their bloodlust is satiated. As he does so he will lead them back to the Oasis, grouping them together where they'll have ample water and food (I'd like to point out here that the raptors can eat glowloam just like the ceratopsians, despite being carnivorous, and the oasis was made above a glowloam hollow so there will be plenty of the stuff around for them).

By doing this Chern is hoping to accomplish several things. Firstly, he wants as many raptors as possible to be safely isolated from other non-raptor mortals, preventing needless bloodshed and concentrating them together so that they can have a chance to build a level of community amongst themselves. Secondly, he wants the vent the raptors bloodlust so much that their more civilised side has a chance to assert itself for a moment, allowing them to mature into something more than mindless killers. Thirdly, Chern wants them to know that he is divine, and that his creed is that of self-sacrifice for the downtrodden.

[Garjel_blah]

Grawissen, the Three Deserts

Graw explored the great desert, he wanted to see his failure firsthand. He saw villages in fear. Corpses of animals and people laying on the sand. Influences of his own corrupted children on the sand.

"So many stories... have ended."

He then noticed something, a corpse torn down by a dozen of the Terrors. Graw shook his head. "I'm so sorry..." he mumbled as he started to turn around.

In the distance, Grawissen spied yet more carnage. Two raptors, holding a figure between them. They pulled and pulled, sinking their claws into the figure's flesh, until they'd torn him in half an the torso. Then the figure reappeared beside them, standing there mournfully as the raptors dropped their two halves and jumped him again. If Graw had eyeballs they would have widened at this site.

"What's the..." he then ran towards the fresh body that was being eaten by the two terrors. "Where did this body come from?"

The man appeared once again, and again the raptors dropped their kill and charged him. This time Grawissen was close enough to see who the person was.

"Grawissen," Chern greeted the god, and was then immediately gutted by the raptors. He reappeared again. "I didn't think that this was what you had in mind with your creation."

Graw stared blankly at Chern as he was being torn to shreds.

"No not at all..." he mumbled as he tried to comprehend the situation. "So why are you allowing yourself to be mauled by my cursed children?"

"These unfortunate souls-" Chern's throat was slit, choking his words and disgorging a torrent of blood. He reappeared. "-know nothing but bloody murder. It is their all, the reason they exist. But-" Chern's legs were swept out from under him, leaving him exposed for a mighty chomp to the midriff. He reappeared. "-just as every object in the world must decay, so too can ideas and motivations. They can't do this forever. There is a spark of intelligence in these-" a blow to the chest cracked his ribs, rupturing his lungs. He reappeared. "-creatures. They will, if given the chance, look further. I wish to give them that chance."

This time the raptors settled for knocking Chern off his feet, bellowing in frustration at him as he continuously refused to die. Graw then looked around and noticed a bunch of terrors just laying about exhausted.

"How long have you been at this?"

"A few hours, with just these two." The raptors glared at Chern, waiting for the slightest provocation to continue their slaughter.

"Grawissen," he said, ignoring them and looking at the skeleton, "I can abate their rage, but I have little to replace it with. I ask you to lend me your knowledge. Teach these so called terrors to be more. Language, at the very least."

"Say no more I shall help, anything to help my children." Graw answered as he raised up his hands. "but I asked you for help with something else, to create a being to protect these Mortals."

+2 Knowledge: as the bloodlust subsides they will rely more on their intelligence than their instincts. They were also appear more scientifically accurate, showing that the fire has dwindled inside them.

+1 writing: they will develop their own language that will be one of easiest languages to learn for both of them and other people.

Help Grawissen create a demigod

Chern has learned a great deal on his long walk this age. Two of those things have been drinking, and rapidly creating copies of himself. He will now apply these ideas to Deja Vu.

+4 decay, giving Deja Vu the ability to split into mildly weaker copies of itself, provided that the person he is bonded to is...

+1 fermentation, drunk. Deja Vu gains this ability when the mortal he is bonded to is drunk, taking the concept of liquid courage to a strange level of literalness.

[Maryring]

Dew'eyera: Sanctuary Castle

"Look, it's not that I mind letting these... creatures waltz around and talk to people. As long as they're peaceful it's all the same to me. But I just don't see why we should be bothering to build boats for them just because they don't have hands. Hi Misty. And secondly." Dew'Eyera blinks and turns around, barely catching the bottom part of his daughter's dress as she hurries off in another direction. He turns back to P'ua with a sigh. "We'll continue the talk later okay?"

"Of course." P'ua can't help but chuckle to himself as he watches Dew hurry after his daughter. The sound of footsteps clacking through the magnificent, divinely built structure. Dew'eyera finally finds his daughter in one of the top towers, gazing wistfully at the setting sun.

"Misty, where have you been?! I haven't seen you since the festival!"

"Around." The young woman snarks back, her voice barely a whisper as she lightly shifts the memento given her by her date about, trying to keep it out of her father's sight.

"Around where? I searched all the usual spots, and even asked the treewhisperers if they could find you." Dew crosses his arms across his chest, glaring sternly at his daughter.

"Look, I'm not a kid anymore. Don't you have some people you have to bury or something?"

"Dor Mist'Eyera Hua'Thal!" Dew's voice rings chillingly through the room, making the young necromancer wince. "I am your father and I will not have you backsass me like that."

Misty frowns, lightly rubbing her hands together with a sigh. "Fine. Fine. I was on a date okay? Not someone you know, now will you please get off my back?"

"I'll get off your back when you stop being as stubborn as a donkey." Dew's voice softens slightly, but only just a bit. "Who? Where?"

"None of your business okay? Sheesh. It was just a guy. It won't work out anyway cause." She shrugs. "Reasons. He just took me to see some ruins okay?"

"Misty... what have I told you. The ruins are no place for a young woman to."

"Yes yes. I've heard it many times before. Just... ugh. Do you get why I didn't wanna tell you?" She sulks, turning her back pointedly to her father.

Dew'eyera sighs, watching his daughter for a good minute. But as she refuses to turn back to him, he shakes his head sadly. "I have work to attend to. We'll talk later. You're grounded by the way."

"Wha. You can't ground me. I'm an adult!"

"Then perhaps you could act like one."

---

Peter: Eaglebeak Rock, Kanto Desert

The creation of such a resplendent artifact has drawn Peter's attention. The ability to enter dreams is a powerful gift to give mortals. Especially in a place as inhospitable as this. But if someone has managed to make it all the way out here, then perhaps it should be only fair to give them a slight, subtle nudge.

Drawing a hand across the ground, Peter shifts the stone and sand, sprinkling hardy seeds that will grow to reveal a rainbow of flowers in time. Subtle blooms whose colours shift from red to violet the closer one gets to the cave itself.

+2 Water and +1 Rainbow for a total of +3 to create a rainbow of colourful flowers near Eaglebeak Rock.

[Batcathat]

Ymon-Thal, 32/50 AP, the Divine World

Looking around in the nothingness, Ymon-Thal visualized a great stone bridge. An instant after he could see the great bridge in his mind, he was standing on it in reality. Or what counted for reality in the Divine World.

The bridge was wide enough to fit a small village and stretched as far as the eyes could see in both directions, thick stone pillars shooting downwards periodically. Completely unnecessary, of course, but impressive-looking.

“So, what's at the end?” Thal asked.

“What do you mean?”

“A bridge usually lead somewhere.”

“Eehm...” Ymon looked around, as if hoping an answer would appear out of nowhere. “Can't it be all middle?”

Thal shrugged.

“I got a great idea for the middle, though!” Ymon said and pointed at the left railing of the bridge in front of them. A tower, made from the same unidentifiable rock as the bridge, suddenly appeared attached to the bridge as if it had been there forever. “One for you!” Ymon pointed on the right side railing where an identical tower appeared. “And one for me!”

Ymon took flight and starting flying around the two towers he'd just created like a bee around a flower. Meanwhile, Thal walked slowly over to the railing and looked over it. Below was just the same foggy nothingness as before.

“A bridge should at the very least be over something...” He mumbled, glaring at his flying other self.

As always, Ymon-Thal could sense the countless souls traveling back and forth between the Passing and the mortal world, fleeing their deaths or chasing their births. Thal reached out and diverted the stream of souls by a few metaphysical degrees and immediately he could actually see them, rushing by far beneath the bridge.

At a distance they almost look like flowing water, their color almost the same as the perpetually cloudy sky above.


Ymon-Thal assists Timorin in the creation of the Divine World.
+2 Life and +2 Death as it connects to the souls traveling between life and death but - 2 Unliving on account of being made of stone.

Ymon-Thal's own part of it is a massive stone bridge over a sea of souls. The bridge has no actual beginning or end, anyone who enters Ymon-Thal's realm in the Divine World will simply find themselves at its middle with no idea of how they got there and no matter how far they travel they will never reach its end.

It's not actually infinite though, it simply repeats itself around its visitors. A sufficiently powerful or perceptive visitor might break free of the illusion but would simply find him- or herself in some other god's realm as no ending to the bridge exists.

On either side of the bridge is a tall tower. Though identical in appearance the one on the right somehow manages to feel much warmer and inviting than the one on the left.


***


Ymon-Thal assists Grawissen in the creation of Deja Vu, giving the demigod an instinctive ability to sense people close to death (+ 2 Death) nearby.

[The JoJo]

Avestra, Grawpolis

Avestra took a longer route back to Sunset Forest, soaring along the jagged Ebonbark coast. The surviving Terrors, as mortals had taken to calling them, had began gathering in packs. Avestra watched with a dispassionate eye as one group stalked a cow that inadvertently wandered too far from its herd. A top predator was not necessarily bad for an ecosystem, but a close eye would have to be kept on these new creatures to ensure they didn't throw things further out of balance.

As she flew over the city of Grawpolis, she sensed that something was happening beneath her. It seemed that Nerassus was not the only demigod being brought into the world.

"You are not the only one to have been burned by the fox," Avestra said, letting her soul speak to Graw. "Take this as a token of my goodwill."


Assist Graw in creating Deja Vu with 2+ nature, 2+ birds

The new demigod will cherish the wonders of nature, a compassionate soul allowing him to identify with all creatures great and small. To symbolise this, his true form will be able to sprout the wings of an eagle at will, allowing him to jump quickly between hosts.

[gac3]

Timorin at the Passin

Timorin was contented with his gift for the second of his nephews set out to check on the others. It was time to return to the passing. They loved him there, Timorin knew. Every so often he dropped by and gave them some excitement. He was like a cool uncle who had an exciting life. It was almost worth the lingering hangover from the baby shower to know how excited the dead would be to see him.

Timorin saw all the gifts Petr had laid before Thal-Verys and knew that he needed to provide an equally great offering. He wracked his brain, giving himself and even worse headache than he started with, and then it hit him. He would give this child the one thing every hero needs, a flail for the dramatic. In an instant he had conjured one into existence.

"This shall help defend you and guide you. When in doubt of how to sort a soul, ask the flail for guidance. Grip the shaft and follow the ball. It will help you place the newly dead."



Timorin made the Flail for the Dramatic to serve as a dependable weapon (+2 War) and a guide. When placing a soul in a new life, the flail will try to guide it to a life which will interact with souls it has met before in the past. Bonus points if they are a great love or a violent enemy. (+2 Drama)


Eaglebeak Point

Timorin knew the next stop should be to check on Grawissen's new child but he decided to first stop by Eaglebeak Rock first. There he entered the chamber with the otherworldly amulet. He spent some time sitting among the flowers, meditation on what he should do about Grawissen. For some reason his mind was filled with visions of conquest and victory and great accomplishment. This by itself was not important. What seemed odd is that Timorin was constantly picturing himself as a bear in these dreams. This had been happening frequently ever since the party on Sanctuary. Timorin shook his head aggressively, trying to shake out the visions of bears before he made his way out of the cave.

Timorin accidentally alters the amulet of dreams to help motivate those near it to greatness in whatever way they are best suited. It will guide the wearer through its dreams to fulfill their ultimate destinies. Oddly enough, the dreams always take the form of the wearer as a bear. +2 Drama


Deja Vu

Timorin was shaking slightly as he approached the hero Deja Vu. "I am sorry for this child, I sought not to do this but your father must learn his lesson. He knows not the level of enemy he has made. Were I less of a coward, I would face him. Instead I turn to you, who has no power to harm me. You must be the vessel with which I punish your father. Please forgive me."

Timorin touched the young demigod on the stomach and forehead. In an instant the belly had turned yellow, to match the eyes. "You shall be able to see conflict brewing from all around. You will not be able to resist it's call. Whether it is a game of chance, a bet, affairs of the heart, or conflicts of man. You will not be able to keep your nose out of where it doesn't belong." Timorin was gone in a blink, a single tear falling. In his absence.

Timorin curses Deja Vu with the ability to sense conflict and inability to resist getting involved. They will be a horrible gossip, a buys body, an incessant gambler, all the things they need to keep getting involved and enforcing their own sense of justice. They also can't turn down a double dog dare or being called a coward. +2 Drama, +1 Games, -2 Fear

[Garjel_blah]

Chern, 44/50 AP, Boa Jungle

Having explored much of the Three Deserts by now, Chern found himself disturbed by the expansionist tendencies of southern Inadriel Empire. He feared for the fledgling civilisation he'd helped to establish in the northern jungle. He resolved to keep a watchful eye on them for now...

Scry a state-sized area (12 AP)

Chern will scry the Boa Jungle and its surrounding regions, so that he'll know if Alatadriel tries anything next turn.

[Garjel_blah]

UPDATED ACTIONS LIST

Main new things:
- Sacrifice actions, which allow you to ask for your followers to sacrifice mortals to you, giving you BP (blood points) for use later in the age. BP is the same as AP, but any actions that you use BP for will become detectable, even if they're undetectable or secondary actions. Most of these are secondary actions, but there are a couple of detectable primary sacrifice actions involving vast numbers of mortals.
- Contested actions, which allow you to take assets from other gods as secondary actions. They don't have a DC, instead requiring both gods to roll to see who achieves the larger number. One important mechanic in this system is that the defending god may use their secondary action (if they haven't used it already) to make a counter-attack, doubling their defence roll. Adds an element of tactics.
- I added a "destroy chosen people" action, because for some reason it was missing.

Undetectable actions

Free/Instant: manifest avatar, teleport avatar, shapeshift avatar, interact with the world, perform inconsequential/non-divine magic, attempt to remotely contact other gods - general fluff and flavour basically.

1 AP/0 DC: influence one mortal (significantly alter the course of their life by compelling them to action, altering their body, killing them, etc.).

2 AP/1 DC: influence a small group of mortals (~10), influence a small landmark or room, change the weather in a village-sized area.

4 AP/2 DC: influence a large group of mortals (~100), influence a large landmark or building.

6 AP/3 DC: influence a village of mortals (~1000), influence a village-sized area, change the weather in a city-sized area.

8 AP/4 DC: change the weather in a state-sized area, create a basic living species (plant, fungus, micro-organisms), create a basic non-living substance.

10 AP/6 DC: influence a town of mortals (~10k), influence a town-sized area, create an animal species, create one or a collection of lesser magical items (easy to both use and destroy, such as a magic carpet, health potion, invisibility cloak, etc.).

12 AP/8 DC: influence a city of mortals (~100k), influence a city-sized area, create a collection of lesser magical minions (should be a reasonable match for most mortals, such as hellhounds, cherubs, horse-mounted Nazgul, etc.), immortalise a living creature or mortal, create a pocket dimension (must be bounded and unable to hold a population).

14 AP/10 DC: influence one immortal, create a single greater magical monster (should be challenging for even the best mortals to slay, such as a dragon, gorgon, fell beast-mounted Witch King, etc.), create a greater magical item (requires understanding of magic to use or destroy, such as a phylactery, enchanted weapons and armour, crystal ball, etc.), sanctify an area for +2 (max 4 per god).

Detectable actions

16 AP/12 DC: influence a state of mortals (~1M) or a small group of immortals (~10), influence a state-sized area, scry a country-sized area, induce a celestial phenomenon (comet, eclipse, aurora, etc.), demand the sacrifice of 100k mortals to refill AP for the age, create a sentient species, create a +2 domain religious artefact (max 3 per god).

18 AP/14 DC: influence a country of mortals (~10M), influence a country-sized area, scry a continent-sized area, create a plane of reality (can be unbounded and capable of sustaining a population), create a +2 domain/-2 weakness demigod (max 2 per god).

20 AP/16 DC: influence a continent of mortals (~100M), influence a continent-sized area, scry the entire planet, create a law of reality (such as a system of magic for mortals to use, or an objective morality), create a supernaturally gifted sentient species, assign a chosen people for +2 (1 per god).

22 AP/18 DC: influence every mortal on the planet, influence the entire planet, demand genocide for infinite AP this age, despoil a +2 sanctified area.

24 AP/20 DC: destroy a +2 artefact, confer a -2 weakness to a demigod, banish a god for a turn, announce a prophesy.

30 AP/24 DC: destroy a demigod, destroy a chosen people, confer a -2 weakness to another god.

40 AP/30 DC: destroy a god.

Secondary actions

1 AP: scry one object or living creature (allows you to detect undetectable actions that happen within your scry, effective for the duration of the turn after the turn on which you call the scry), demand the sacrifice of one mortal to generate 3 BP.

2 AP: scry a small landmark or room, demand a sacrifice of 10 mortals to generate 8 BP.

4 AP: scry a large landmark or building.

6 AP: scry a town-sized area, demand the sacrifice of 100 mortals to generate 16 BP.

8 AP: scry a city-sized area.

10 AP: scry a country-sized area, demand the sacrifice of 1000 mortals to generate 30 BP.

12 AP: scry a state-sized area, reincarnate/reawaken a mortal/monstrous demigod.

14 AP: occupy +1 of another god's sanctified area, steal +1 of another god's religious artefact (contested rolls, defender may double their modifiers if they have an available secondary action).

16 AP: kill a mortal demigod or banish an immortal demigod for one turn (contested roll, defender may double their modifiers if they have an available secondary action).



Player
Deity
Domains/Weaknesses


Garjel_blah
Chern
+4 Decay, +1 Fermentation, +2 Starry Crypt, -2 Downtrodden


Godzillarich
Grawissen
+2 Mining, +2 Knowledge, +1 Writing, +2 Grawissen's Pickaxe of Architecture, -2 Unknown


Megadraco
Kahar-Djin
+2 Paths, +2 Thresholds, +1 Travellers, -2 Unexplored


Demonjazz
Alatadriel
+2 Fire, +2 Foxes, +1 Bees, -2 Arrogance


The Jojo
Avestra
+2 Nature, +2 Birds, +1 Reproduction, +2 Avestra's Perch, -2 Primeval


Batcathat
Ymon-Thal
+2 Life, +2 Death, +1 Balance, -2 Unliving


El-the Ellie
Vreyalas
+2 Community, +2 Forging, -2 Darkness


Artemis P
Nestellbam
+4 Preservation, +1 Treasures, +2 Harken Steppe, -2 Creation


gac3
Timorin
+2 Drama, +2 War, +1 Games, -2 Fear


Mira_124
Opulon
+2 Cosmology, +2 Divination, -2 Focus


flyinglemur
Dulnori
+2 Fortune, +2 Ambition, +1 Dreams, -2 Stability


Maryring
Petr
+2 Water, +2 Healing, +1 Rainbow, +2 Sanctuary Moonpool -2 Pain


DarthArminius
Su'ule
+2 Sorcery, +2 Monsters, +1 Birth, -2 Willfulness


AlexanderML
Yir
+2 Sun, +2 Majesty, +1 Perfection, +2 Stonesthroe Mountain Peaks, -2 Arrogance, Yir's Vessel (+2 Giants/-2 Petulance)

[DarthArminius]

Su'ule, a goddess who was as benevolent as she was powerful, looked across the Gnaw Wastes. Sure, it was home to her people, but they weren't exactly that numerous, even with their magical gifts they received from her. Sure, they had a magical protector, a man who could both use Sorcery AND transform into a dragon, at will. The goddess breathes life into the wastes, around the caverns of her favored tribes, sanctifying the land, causing it to grow fertile. Crops could, and would finally grow in abundance, and the very climate around this sanctified area would be temperate, and green.


Su'ule spends 16AP to enchant the land so that the climate would be hospitable around a large area, where the Neanderthal tribes could actually grow crops here

[Godzillarich]

+2 knowledge: the amulet will allow you to learn about a person by studying their dreams, from their hopes, dreams, fears, and morality.

+2 mining: the amulet will make a special will turn any regular rocks exposed long enough to it into Dreammite. These rocks help the user with sleeping and having pleasant dreams. The rock will eventually be drained of its power if used enough times.

+1 writing: the amulet show what other people are thinking, showing their thoughts as written words.



+2 knowledge: the people around these areas will develop great knowledge on how they can grow crops.

+2 mining: a special edible material called Zoptzenk, can be found all over the area, the special material is not only edible like salt but is able to keep food fresh for more than two years.

+1 writing: there will be stone slabs around the area with detailed farming instructions written on them. This knowledge will help the younger generations to learn farming faster.

[Maryring]

Seemingly small changes can have vast ripple effects. Especially when dealing with weather and climate. Su'ule's touch in the Gnaw Wastes doesn't go unnoticed by Petr. The creation of a temperate zone in what is otherwise tundra bordering arctic is definitely going to play havoc with weather patterns.

At least if you leave things as is. But Su'ule has given Petr's child a blessing. And so it's only fair that in turn, Petr shields Su'ule's children from the worst of the weather. And perhaps throw in something interesting if they venture further out into the wastes.

Help: Water +2: Petr weakens the effects of a temperate zone in the wastes on weather to keep it from being a constant zone of bitter winds and storms.

Healing +2: Petr spreads around hardy tubers and root vegetables that can survive the Graw Wastes.

[flyinglemur]

Dulnori was laying on mud, sad and bored. He looked up at the sky, a sky not filled with golden dragons, and sighed. He was planning on wallowing for a good week, when he felt that familiar pull. "Looks like some of the others are messing with reality again, let’s make this more readable.” Dulnori turned the earth beneath him to sand, and that sand soon turned itself into cute models of the gods. Their requests played out for him. "What do we got here, a steppe woman's being deified, a baby shower, and a real estate venture. Nothing unusual here, WAIT! Why is an Aeon being deified? When did this happen, why is this happening, should I have noticed? I should have. Ach” Dulnori dragged himself out of the mud pool and followed the trail of the message, how could he be so callous as to miss this? When he arrived at the source; he saw a strange and unnatural place. He had arrived in the passing, and it felt absolutely miserable. A bunch of souls, just flitting about, instead of being reborn immediately. What a strange project. Dulnori then saw Verys, once an Aeon, now a gloomy ruler of a gloomy place. He had expected this to be a joyous occasion, but there could be no joy for Verys anymore. Dulnori thought about speaking to her, but she had already sold her soul. He could not in good conscience revoke her choice, or hope to convince her otherwise through authority alone. Still, he was compelled to do something, to bring some light into her new form. The worm dug into her head, and placed a memory in her mind. When Thal-Verys sleeps, she dreams of her old home, so as to always remember who she once was.

+1 dreams. On occasion Thal-Verys dreams of the Steppe. This makes her wistful and distracted, and a bit more likely to let a soul or two go early.


Now Dulnori was even sadder than before. He sulked for a while, before remembering that little invitation he had gotten. Perhaps a party could cheer him up. Dulnori arrived in Sanctuary Island in a raging cloud of sand, and was immediately impressed. This was a party alright, in a very fancy city as well. A few hours of food and drink did a wonder on his mood, and soon the rhino was happier than a war-chief with mammoth brain on his spear tip. The city was a cavalcade of sights, tall buildings, great art, and all sorts of mages casting all sorts of spells. Dulnori loved it all, except for one thing.

"Why are you shamans here so namby-pamby?” Dulnori yelled at a passing mage,
“I’m a druid good sir, and I’ll have you know I’m too busy for these insults. I’ve got birds to watch and flowers to arrange.”
"Nonsense, you’re a shaman, just a weak one. You’re all so spoiled here with your magic flowing about all water like. Where I come from you gotta yank hard if you want magic to do anything, and you get pretty good at it. What’s worse is you waste your time on these small birds and flowers. Not real terror birds, just those tiny fluff things.”
“chickens?”
"Ya fake birds. You gotta do something courageous. Be bold. Nature is big and scary, nature magic is all about being even bigger and scarier. So scary that a mammoth will do whatever you want just cause you looked at it funny”
“And how would you know better than our arch druid, sand man?”
"Cause I invented the damn magic. Just watch and I’ll show you what I mean.”
Dulnori reaches out, and yoinks a saber tooth right off the steppe, dropping it in on the ground. The rather miffed predator locks eyes with the terrified shaman, who summons every ounce of courage he has. After what seems like an eternity, the tiger bows. Dulnori tosses him back home.

"See what I mean good shaman. It’s all about presence. Now then, my card.” Dulnori hands the bewildered man a playing card, with the words, “Dulnori’s school of steppe style shamanry. Located, in steppe. Just pray for it” written on it, and walks off.

"Now, what was I supposed to be doing anyways. Oh yes, gifts for a baby. Well, with what I’ve seen, this baby will definitely need my help if they wanna be a proper contender in the fast paced world of nature magic.”

A few hours later a terror bird arrives in front of Petr, carrying another one of Dulnori’s cards in his beak.

+1 dreams. If Nerassus wants they can pray for guidance in the ways of shamanism. They’ll have a dream where they’re in the steppe, and the worm will be more than happy to tutor the child.

The next day Dulnori woke up on a beach, blending in perfectly with the sand. He had apparently fallen off Sanctuary Isle while drunk, and the tide had carried him along. He was in a very good mood and decided to take his landing as an act of fate. He wandered for a time, when he heard another call, something about making amends. “Dang it, everyone keeps bugging me today. Let’s see what we’re working with,” as he senses the message his eyes light up, “this… is… the best thing anyone has ever made in the history of ever! A proper hero for the ages, and handsome too. A beast like this, why they deserve the Dulnori treatment.” Dulnori performs a familiar move, and Deja Vu is marked with the golden scale.

Deja Vu gains a single golden scale, like the Ceratopsians that came before it.
+2 Ambition. Deja Vu shall have a great will and desire for fame and glory, perfect to encourage heroic deeds.
+2 Fortune: The possessor of Deja Vu shall be blessed with an uncanny luck, all the better when their backs are on the wall.

Dulnori was pleased at this discovery, but suddenly grew wistful. The majesty of such a creation reminded him of his own failures, and the duty he was shirking. “I’m a damned fool. Running around like this, while Elkhoof and the rest work do so much. Back to work it is.” He took his leaf form, and rode the winds away from Tria, intending to return home. However, when he landed he felt something unusual. COLD. He took rhino shape instantly, and had a look around while his fur warmed up. He had landed in the Gnaw Wastes, and took to wandering. The place was misery, cold beyond anything he had felt, and barren. He could tell that life was hard here, for everyone, but he also felt hope. He watched the brave Neanderthals and saw their struggle. They were a lonely people, isolated from all but their enemies, yet they never gave up. They carved out a life amid the ice, and found joy even in a place like this. These were a people he could respect. Moreover, he saw signs of another power. Great beasts roamed this land, and the neanderthals often had strange and wonderful forms they used to face danger. As Dulnori noticed this he felt something familiar surge through the earth. The maker of magic was working once again, and they wanted to make life bloom in this land. How could he not help? This land deserved the Dulnori treatment too.

Dulnori shall aid in making this land abundant.
+2 Fortune: Harvests in the Gnaw Wastes shall be bountiful and consistent. Fate is on the people’s side, so famine shall be rare.
+2 Ambition. The plants shall be both tasty and nutritious, thereby improving the neanderthals morale greatly. With healthier bodies and happier tongues they shall be both more able and more willing to take risks and perform acts of daring do.


Dulnori was inspired now. He had a job to do, and he wasn’t going to let one failure stop him. He reached out, and pulled back the statue he’d made. His trip into a few souls had made him stronger, and he was determined. He breathed life into it once again, with renewed confidence and vigor. The statue shook and shuddered, it’s time was coming, but Dulnori wasn’t out of the woods yet. The dragons were vulnerable, a stillbirth could still occur. Dulnori realized his real issue. He was rushing into this difficult task alone. It is always in unity that people have strength, and the same is true of the gods. Dulnori searched and searched, until he finally came across the goddess of this land. “Greeting Su’ule, mother of monsters, maker of magic, and leader of the neanderthals. We haven’t met, but I’ve felt the ripple of your actions. I am the rhino, the whirlwind, the leaf, the worm, the sky, the spear, and the sun. I am Dulnori. I wish to create dragons of gold, creatures of wisdom and magic. I tried once before, but faltered, now I’m trying again and I need your help. They shall teach mortals a great deal, and will speak your name just as well as they shall speak my partner’s and mine. I know it shall be pleasing for all to hear. What do you say?”

Su’ule is able to react to this.
The Golden Dragons appear and act much as mentioned before, although, should Su’ule aid, she may add a lesson she’d like them to teach.
+2 Fortune: The Golden Dragons bless men. They grant gold and luck, listen to the prayers of the people, and alter the current of destiny.
+2 Ambition: The Golden Dragons preach and teach. They spread the word of Dulnori and Nestellbam and encourage growth and glory. They are great trainers and teachers.
+1 Dreams: A new addition, the Golden Dragons can emulate the worm and appear in the dreams of men. They do this to give omens and advice, and to aid in the progress of shamanism. Many steppe shamans shall first learn of their ability thanks to a Golden Dragon’s sleep message. They sometimes reach into the dreams of potential shamans outside the steppe, particularly neanderthals. The dreams model harsh steppe training, and the student’s gain a much better grasp over nature magic than they had before.


After that encounter the leaf flew back home. Quickly he realized he’d forgotten entirely about his new real estate. The sand let himself fall deeper and deeper into the earth, until he had arrived in the divine realm. He was tired after all this work, and decided it would be good to make somewhere to rest. This would also help solve his little disappearing problem, or at least give him somewhere to be while that happened.

Dulnori’s portion is called The Emerald Castle, a veritable resort that runs itself. It’s a huge building, colored green with emerald. The place is a perfect palace of pleasure, filled with attractions of all kinds, the most notable of which are the following.
The Arcade- This is a huge room for recreation of all kinds. Card games and roulette wheels abound, not to mention fields for any sport a person could dream of. It plays with constructs it generates that look like humans with green skin and no blemishes. Prizes are common and bountiful, a visitor could easily leave with a ruby the size of their head. Of course, if a challenge is desired, The Emerald Castle can easily turn up the difficulty, and it’s skill in cards and sport is legendary.
The Feast Hall- A massive table with delicacies prepared on the spot. No matter what it is the food shall always be healthy and filling, not to mention absolutely delicious. The supply is infinite, and you can take as much food as you can carry back home.
The Hot Spring- A hot tub of epic proportions. The water is always as warm as it needs to be. A trip here will make you forget all your pains and sorrows.
The Tar Pit- Dulnori’s personal equivalent of the above. He sleeps submerged in rhino form for relaxation, and this is where his body ends up between ages.

The divivice for this realm is a great pillar just outside the eternal arena. Winners of the Miracle Games get the right to enter for a day, although the day always feels like it lasts longer than normal.

+2 Fortune: The Emerald Castle is basically good fortune in physical form. It’s an unforgettable experience that always leaves you richer, literally and metaphorically
+2 Ambition: The promise of The Emerald Castle shall drive men to search for the divivices.

[DarthArminius]

Help Dulnori
"Dulnori, long have I yearned to create something somewhat more than peaceable. I have created a dragon before, let's see if I can aid you in the creation of something a little different." + 2 Monsters, + 2 Sorcery, +1 Birth, - 2 Willfulness. Golden Dragons are definitely dragons, so they get the plus two bonus from the monster domain, they give birth, if they are female so they have the protection of dragon eggs. Dragon eggs are resilient and magical. Lastly Golden Dragons are extremely intelligent at sorcery. Unfortunately, Su'ule's help might make the Golden Dragons willful and quite wild when they are young. However, they learn from their mistakes and end up being wiser and more intelligent than most other species.

[Demonjazz]

Alatadriel sat among a troupe of Flame Dancers as they toured the countryside of Al-Setor. She watched over the dancers as they fluttered about, quite clumsy in their attempts to try and master the flame. Most sat learning breathing techniques, but there were a few who were already on their first leg of their journey. Alatadriel sat eating an apple with one of the ‘masters’ who was taking a break.

“Do you find it easy? Living a happy life, that is?”

“Do you not find it easy, Mistress?”

“There are good days, there are bad days. But I’m not bound to die.”

“You’re bound into some sort of dream state for many many lifetimes though. Is that not similar to a fear of death for you, Iridescent One?”

“Well… It’s not exactly the same. It’s not like I don’t think, and I’m not seeing anything it’s just that… It’s all foggy. I slumber and it feels like... It feels like everything is happening at once. Like… Everything has happened only minutes ago, but also like an age has passed. It’s hard to describe. It’s not like when I go to bed in my mortal form, but all that information, it gets all jumbled in your head and you can’t really make it heads or tails of it even if you wanted too, and you never really want too... And then you wake up, and it feels like it never happened. You just feel… Rested afterward.”

“That is not too far from death.”

“What do you mean?”

“Mortals you know. We have to live with death on our minds a lot. Most ignore it, but… Well… Just think of… A wave.” She looks out into the distance, where the ocean could be vaguely seen from the roadsides of Al-Setor. “A wave, it swells, and it thrashes, but when it breaks onto the shore… It’s no longer a wave. But that doesn’t mean it goes away. It just changes... I’ll die one day, spend my due in The Passing, and when I come back… I’ll wake up, and it will feel like it never happened. I’ll just feel rested.”

Alatadriel sat with her head rested in her hand. She stayed this way for several minutes just staring out into the horizon as others worked around her. Seeing the god lost in thought, the master left her too her own devices as the troupe went back to work.

As Alatadriel sat munching thoughtfully on an apple, she saw a figure far in the distance. “Dan-Dillion, could you hand me the spyglass? Someone is approaching us.”
“Of course, Protector of The Hearth… But, any idea who it might be?”

Alatadriel trained her sight into the distance, a woman ran headlong through the trees. She wore a plain beige cotton dress, but she wore a vibrant blue cloak over her head, the same color of a tropical sea. “A noble on the run by the looks of it.”

“Alatadriel!” The woman yelled from across the plain, the fox goddesses keen ears being the only one to hear her.

“Noble on the run? Is she being chased? Should we send help?”

Alatadriel looked distracted. “No, uh she looks fine… But, uh, I think she’s looking for me.”

Dan-Dillion lounged back into his chair. “Well, you are a god, immortal mistress. That only sounds natural to me.”

“I don’t know. It feels a bit different… I’m going out to meet her. She looks a bit concerned… No need to follow.” Alatadriel snapped her fingers.

~~~

With a puff of smoke, Alatadriel appeared before the woman. As the woman got a sense of her bearings again, she grabbed Alatadriel tightly and embraced her. ”You have no idea what I went through to see you again!” She sobbed into Alatadriel’s breast. “I’m, oh, geez.” Alatadriel stood there unsure of what to do with her hands. They were held outwards as if she was afraid to touch the woman. The woman choked a little before speaking. “You… You don’t remember me, but… Could you please let me hold you a little longer?”
Alatadriel tentatively wrapped her arms around the smaller woman. Really, she was rather large, not in the same sense of Alatadriel, an imposing graceful figure. Large much in the same way a fireplace is large. Broad and plain and at a distance the red brick may seem cruel, but up close it was welcoming and warm. Alatadriel ran a hand down the back of the woman. As she shifted her hands she noticed a subtle but noticeable bulge in her clothing. “You know, you really shouldn’t exhaust yourself. It’s bad for the baby.”

The woman gave a soft chuckle. “That’s uh, what I came here to talk about, actually… It’s…” She hesitated. “There’s not really an easy way to say it, but… Oh, I should have rehearsed… No, no. My child is… Uh, yours as well.”

Alatadriel’s face did not change, but her hands tightened slightly. “I think you are mistaken. I don’t even know your name.”

“It’s Magus Ravenhold.” She didn’t let go of Alatadriel. “My friends call me Maggie.” She moved a strand of hair away from Alatadriel’s face. “You really do look like you came from one of my dreams… Which, I guess you did.”

Alatadriel moved her hands up to stroke the hair Magus. “Listen, honey. I appreciate the compliment, and you aren’t bad looking yourself. But I’m not the one you’re looking for. Regardless of who you saw in your dreams.

Maggie frowned. “Do you really not remember? Oh, we danced for what seemed like hours under a full moon. We had a stroll through a moonlit beach, you took me to bed. Oh, I had thought it was just a dream, how could a goddess possibly take interest in me, but… Here I am, with a child.”

“I really don’t remember you. I’m sorry to disappoint.” Alatadriel said freeing herself from the grip of the smaller woman

Magus pounded lightly on Alatadriel’s chest. “No, No. I know that it was you! I know! I’m not an idiot! I know what happened! You were-It was the first hour of the party. You were embarrassed because someone pulled at one of your tails, and I was there! I was there at the side of the party because my date stood me up, and I was having an awful time! And you were there for me, and I was there for you! It was magical.” Magus deflated as she wiped a tear away. “You really don’t remember. I thought you were different. You… You told me that sometimes, you wished that you stayed a fox. You know that?”

Alatadriel’s face lit up with recognition for the first time.

Alatadriel was there all gussied up, and ready to be praised, but… Ugh, Sanctuary. Her mood was ruined quickly. And Alatadriel sat embarrassed, aggravated, and most of all somber on the beachside. Skipping rocks into the ocean.
“Why’d I even come to this stupid party.”

Magus took a seat next to Alatadriel. “Tell me about it.” Her mascara had run across her face. Alatadriel remembered her slumping over, in her big, poofy white dress and her black hair she looked a bit like a burnt dumpling… In a kind of cute way.

“Like, the host is such a drag, and everyone is like way too polite, and Ugh, I should have worn something lighter, it’s so humid here. I feel like my dress is going to take some of me with it when I take it off.” Alatadriel loosened her collar a bit. “And I just had like this big blowout with a friend. Over something that he’s blaming ME of all people for! When he was trying to screw everyone over, and no one could see it.”

Magus took a sip from her flagon. Losing a couple of layers herself. “The humidity is not so bad, you get used to it after a while. The party though… I felt like I couldn’t breathe, it was so suffocating, being in there with everyone I knew ”

“Yeah. things used to be so much more solitary back in the day. It’s kind of hard to get used to the way things are now.”

Magus scratched the back of her head. “So… I thought I was getting somewhere with this guy Tyler.”

“Yeah?” Alatadriel drank from her cup.

“Yeah, he’s like funny, and he’s like big and strong and tall. Yunno, like the whole package.”

Alatadriel looked towards Maggie. “Yeah, I can imagine.”

“Well, he said that he was gonna go with me… But, oh jeez.” She blew her nose into a napkin. “When he went to get drinks, I was gonna check on him. And I find him in the arms of freaking Misty! Like he doesn’t even know that she already has a boyfriend! And like… It was this big thing, and I totally freaked out. And he’s saying all this stupid stuff to me. That it wasn’t what it looked like, and all this. And I get really upset, and well... I end up crying in the bathroom. And I try to go back to the party but now everyone is like ‘what happened, Maggie?’ ‘Oh, I feel so bad for you Maggie’, and it’s just like coming nonstop, so I just end up crying even more because I’m so dumb, which makes me even more upset… And like… I just wanna scream.”

Alatadriel looked around. “I mean no one is around. You could do that now if you’d like.”

“Oh no, no. I couldn’t do that.”

“Come on, it could be fun.”

Magus looked around as well… “Maybe just once.” She got up and looked out into the ocean, cupping her hands over her mouth. “FUUUUCK YOU TYYYYLEEERRR!!”

Alatadriel laughed as she grabbed Maggie’s shoulders. Helping balance her in the shifting sand. “There doesn’t that feel better?”

Magus giggled but drew her arms in closer. “A little bit, but not really.” She wiped another tear from her eye. “Jeez, I feel so stupid getting upset over him. I know he’s not worth it, but it… It still hurts you know.”

“Hey, hey. Don’t let someone have that kind of control over you. Come on, we can have a good time without him. Let’s go back to the party, show off how much fun we’re having.”

Magus sniffled. “Oh, I couldn’t handle that. All those eyes on me.” Maggie’s eyes looked into Alatadriel’s. “How about we just have our own little party. Yunno, just the two of us.”

Alatadriel hesitated. It felt wrong spending all this time with a mortal and one who talked so passively to her… But everything just came so easily. “Yeah,” She said her frown quickly turning into a smile. “I think I’d like that.”

It couldn’t have been more than two hours, but it felt like an eternity. They danced, they sung, they talked, and talked, and drank, and ate, and danced some more. Sometimes, it was good to be treated like a mortal... No, it wasn’t the same as being treated like a mortal. She knew what she was, but… It didn’t bother her.
… What was she talking about? She hated this, she always demanded respect, but… It felt good. To not be judged. To not have expectations. To have someone act like they didn’t know you. It felt strange, it was good… But not. It made her chest feel light, but far away.

One thing had led to another, and Alatadriel had found herself in Maggie’s house… And well, you know how these types of stories end.


Alatadriel sat on the edge of the bed. She was looking at her hands, thinking everything over as Maggie read a scroll by her bedside. Her hands. It was something that had taken time to get used to. Paws, they felt so much more natural, but sometimes it felt like she had always had hands. It was so hard to remember everything. It was so long ago. She had begun to forget a lot of feelings. Normalcy. That’s what she was feeling. She turned her hand into that of a paw, laying it over her other hand. She hadn’t felt normal in a long time. Because she wasn’t normal. Everything came easy to her now. So much of what drove her as a fox, what drives humans now. It was gone for her. She could never get it back. But… She felt normal now.
Normal… She strove her life to be more than normal to be better. What struggle is there now though?
She let out a deep sigh as she turned her paw back into a hand.

Magus put her scroll down. “Is there something bothering you, Ala?”

“Ala?”

“Your name is a bit long.”

“What? It isn’t! It’s the perfect length. It took a lot of time to decide on that name, you know.” Ala said indignantly

Magus took Alatadriel’s hand. “It’s a beautiful name, but something’s bothering you.”

Alatadriel let out another sigh. “Okay, but you can’t tell anyone. And I mean no one, not a single soul. Not even your soul could tell anyone.”

Maggie chuckled. “My lips are sealed. I’ll take it to the grave, and beyond. I’ll swear my life… And my unlife.”

Alatadriel hesitated. Staying silent for more than a minute. “I… I miss being a fox.”

“Can’t you still be a fox?”

“I mean… yeah, but it’s not the same. I miss how simple it was. All of my goals were easy, understandable. Get food, find a place to sleep, don’t get stepped on. That’s all I had to worry about. But now, it’s all about the future, what’s right, what’s wrong.”

“You’re growing up. Learning more about the world.”

“... I guess I wouldn’t really know. It’s…” Alatadriel rubbed her temples. “I don’t think the same way anymore. It’s so different. It was like… Who am I? What is the world? All the big questions. It’s not that I just didn’t think them. It was like I couldn’t think them. But now everything, it just pounds on my head until I can quiet it. And sometimes it’s easy. It was easy when we danced, but right now it’s hard. All of them swirling around. Questioning all my actions.”

Magus laid down staring at the ceiling. “That’s what being a human is like. You’re getting used to emotions that you’re not familiar with. And it’s easy to shut them out. But you have to acknowledge them. It sounds to me like you’re having regrets.”

“Regret… I think that I regret a lot of things. But… Not staying a fox, a mortal. I think that I regret that most of all. I used to be able to achieve my goals. But…” A blue flame sprung up in Alatadriel’s hand. “All this power. I can achieve so much, but, it’s like everything that matters, the really big differences I could make. Stuff that matters. It’s like it’s all out of my reach now. I want to teach them, but if they’re doing it just because I said so then what have they learned? And… And.” Alatadriel changed into a human form. “I’m sorry, but I need to leave.”

“What? Where are you going?”

“I… I just need some air, okay. This… This Isn’t right.”

“What isn’t right? You’re opening up. There’s nothing wrong with that. That’s good… You’re good. You… You love me right?”

“That’s… It’s, It’s complicated! We just met. I need some air! I need to think.”

“You can’t run away from your problems. It’d be better just to confront them now.”

“I-I’m not running away! I’m fine. I just… Need some time to think.”

Magus wrapped herself up in her blankets. Covering her modesty as she half got up. “Listen… I’m not going to make you stay. I… I definitely couldn’t even if I tried. But, I don’t think you should be alone right now. Sometimes it’s better to work out feelings together. And this is one of those times”

Alatadriel changed her outfit into one better for the chillier weather of the night. She turned as she opened the door. “I’m leaving Maggie.”

“Will I see you again?”

Alatadriel hesitated as she walked through the door, but she didn’t turn back to Magus. “I don’t know. I just don’t know Maggie.”
Magus was left all alone in her house. Only the thumping of her heart to keep her company.


Alatadriel sat down at the bar with a dour look on her face. “Give me a drink, a big one.”


Alatadriel grabbed Magus tightly. Pulling her in for a kiss. “I was so stupid to leave you.” She stroked Magus’s hair. “I had a miserable time afterward.”

Maggie giggled. “I hate to say that I’d I told you so, buut…”

“No, No. I deserve it. I… I don’t know how I could make it up to you. Leaving you like that. It was awful, it was terrible. I-I”

“It’s alright.”

“It’s not alright. You went through so much, You had to cross a sea, and find out where I was, you must have been searching for months, and-and-”

Magus took hold of Alatadriel’s hands. “And we’re together now.”

“Why? Why did you even come back?”

“I… Well I didn’t have much of a choice. No one believed me, and well… One thing led to another, and… Well, I lost my job, my parents kicked me out. My friends distanced themselves from me, and well… I got the next boat out of there. ”

Alatadriel looked appalled. “That’s terrible, I’m so sorry. I just… I really don’t know how you could forgive me.”

“Alatadriel.” Magus gripped her hands more tightly. “I… I never really fit in. I’m not really sure why. I kept blaming myself. I must have come up with a million different explanations why. A million different reasons to blame myself. Maybe it was my weak magic, maybe I’m just awkward, maybe I’m just too romantic. And I thought that if I worked a little bit harder, I could overcome this. And I dreaded it, living a normal life. But then you came and for the first time. I felt like I didn’t have to prove myself… Instead of pretending, I just… Felt normal as I was.”

Alatadriel looked down into Magus’s eyes, one hand placed around her back, and the other stroking her long raven hair. “I really love you.” Alatadriel planted a kiss on Magus’s forehead. “I really, really love you. You know that?”

~~~

Alatadriel and Magus came back to the camp, arms linked around each other. Magus was giggling as she leaned against the taller goddess. “Oh, you should have seen the look on Misty’s face. Oh, is that a bit mean? It’s probably a bit mean… But-”
Alatadriel laughed. “But it was pretty funny.”

One of the masters among the troupe let out a single hearty laugh. “Well, how goes it with the runaway noble?”

Magus blushed as Alatadriel curtsied to the master. “Ah, you haven’t been introduced. Dan-Dillion, this Magus Ravenhold. She’s my… Mate? No, no… Humans don’t use that. Ah… I can never remember-”

Magus already bright red waved frantically “She’s my fiance. The word is fiance, dear.”

The master gave a loud, prolonged laugh. “Ahaha! Seems you got along a bit better than expected.”

“It’s a long story.” Magus stood awkwardly. Some of the students turned to look towards the couple as they saw their goddess coming back with a woman.

“So… Don’t mean to be rude, but when’s the wedding? Wouldn’t want to miss something like that. It’d be the event of the century.”

“Oh, no, no. We were planning on having a smaller event.” Magus said. “Yunno, just friends and family-Well, I can’t invite either of those now that I think about it.”

“I… Don’t think I have either of those,” Alatadriel said, a bit sad.

“You could invite some of the gods?” Dan-Dillion said

“Eh, I don’t know if that’s the best idea, yunno… They don’t get along all that well on the best days. Dumpling, do we really want the gods at our wedding?”

Maggie nervously shook her head. “Oh, I couldn’t imagine more than one.”

“Maybe one?”

“Two Max.”

The master bowed to the two. “Well, if I may humbly request. We are still quite far from Al-Setor. If you have any needs for me, You may simply ask. It has been long since I have had the need, but I have been ordained as a priest.”

~~~

A mixture of grumbling and excitement was heard as the wedding started. It was early in the morning before the sun crested the sky. The wedding site overlooked a steep sea cliff. The cries of gulls and the soft crash of the gulf had some of the students asleep in their seats. Others would wake each other up not wanting to miss the big moment. Various makeshift chairs were set up on the two sides of the aisle. One half seated was the various people that made up the troupe of Fire Dancers. The other half was a group of foxes and hua-ling that were sitting dutifully on the chairs. On each side, there was a chair reserved in the front row. One reserved for Kahar-Djin and the other side a seat reserved for Chern who were both invited.
In the middle was a raised platform with a podium, behind it stood the master of the troupe, wearing a fine pressed white garment, a stole hung around his neck, with stylized flames dotting the ends of it. There sat various floral arrangements on the sides of the platform. Red lilies, fox flower, and pink roses interspersed tastefully with purple irises and blue morning glories. Two vines, one a pastel orange trumpet vine, and the other a vibrant arrangement of morning glories blue with lines of a pure white lining them. The two vines tangled together in the middle growing alongside the metal archway placed at the stairs to the platform.
Standing below the podium was a small fire pit, crackling gently, the pit was a shining bronze that was lowered into the platform. The lip of the pit extended outwards several feet.

The two blushing brides stood fixing each other’s dresses in a caravan as the visitors waited expectantly. “Did you really have to invite the foxes?” Magus asked.

Alatadriel tightened the binds of the corset that Magus was wearing. “Well… I made the hua-ling, and it’s probably been enough generations that the foxes are… Somehow related to me. So they’re a kind of family.”

Maggie dabbed at the corner of Alatadriel’s eye. Fixing her uneven makeup. “Family is a bit overrated if you ask me, but if they make you happy dear.” She reapplied eyeliner to Alatadriel. “I thought you hated Chern though?”

Alatadriel straightened the position of the hair ornament on Magus “It’s a bit complicated. He’s nice, but he kind of creeps me out. I thought he’d curse us or something if we didn’t invite him… And I haven’t had the best relationship with all the gods. Timorin is a bit too… Dramatic for our wedding, Ymon is a little too excitable and Thal creeps me out worse than Chern, and the others are too far away for you to know about.”

Magus reapplied her lipstick before giving a little spin for her fiance. “How do I look?”

Alatadriel had a far off look on her face. “You’re as beautiful as the opulent night sky as the bright aurora glows.”

“The Aurora?”

“Oh, it’s something an old friend of mine showed me. At the ends of the earth, during certain times of the year, the sky burns with beautiful purples, blues, and reds. I’ll have to show you, it’s a transcendent experience. Seeing the bright lights interplay in the sky.” Alatadriel gave a soft sigh as she remembered her friend.

Magus reached up and caressed the face of Alatadriel. “I don’t have the same way with words, but I do have a good memory. ‘Now Love, the ineluctable, With bittersweetness fills me, Overwhelms me, and shakes my being’-Sapphos.”

The couple swayed gently back and forth in each other’s hands. “Bitter sweetness huh?”

“It sounded better in my head.”

Alatadriel tittered “Oh, I couldn’t imagine something as sweet, and daring. A blending of decadent chocolate as dark as night and bitter as winter with the midsummer sweetness of ripe raspberry, tasting of the soft rays of a lazy day. The bitterness only adds to the taste, it does not subtract. For how could winter take away from the summer day?”

Magus let out a high pitched giggle. “I hope you saved some of the flattery for your vows.”

Alatadriel looked out towards the horizon as the grey blues of morning started to slowly change color “Oh, we better hurry! I want the light to be just right for this.”


The two brides walked with each other down the aisle. Some of the students clapped as the two brides in their immaculate outfits walked down the aisle, waking up other barely awake members of the audience. Some of the foxes though confused yipped in appreciation at their master as the two went down the aisle. The guests quieting down some as the band started to play.
Magus and Alatadriel took their place on opposite sides of the fire, staying within the bronze lip of the fire. They took two unlit candles that stood off the bronze lip and held them neatly in their hands. The priest motioned to the crowd to come to a new quiet as the band played a softer tune.
“Friends, families, and followers. We are here gathered here today not only to share in this union between two souls but to exalt our beloved goddess, The Divine Iridescent Elegance of Vu-”

“You can skip the titles,” Alatadriel said quickly.

“Of our beloved goddess, Alatadriel. Who has found love among mortals with the beautiful Magus Ravenhold of Sanctuary. Knowing that this holy rite is unbreakable, may you take your seven steps forward towards this holy union.”

Alatadriel talked as she put one foot forward. The sun peeked up from the horizon as she started. “I swear by the moon, and the stars, and all the gods above to love, and cherish, and honor you with all my heart.”
She took another step forward “Through thick, and thin, through your ups and downs. I will be there for you like so many never were.
For the first time in my long existence, I feel like I don’t deserve something. To do better not only by you but by myself.
You make me remember what it was like to be a mortal. To have uncertainty thump in your chest as you go about your day, to feel needed, and to feel equal. To feel all that I have missed.
You humble me. For I can move the mountains, the heavens and the sky, but I am powerless against that force known as love
I was scared at first. I turned away from my feelings and this fear has caused me to commit some actions that I'm not proud of. Regret another emotion that I forgot.” Alatadriel stooped down low and lit her candle on the fire pit.
“And despite all of this, you were always there for me. With patience and perseverance, you taught me not to be afraid, to open up and to let love into my life.” With her last step, she stepped off the bronze lip.

Magus started her seven steps "I swear by the moon, and the stars, and all the gods above to love, and cherish, and honor you with all my heart.
Through the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune, and through a sea of troubles. For when you are sick, and when you’re tired. I will be there beside you like I was when we first met.
For almost all my years, I felt estranged and distant. Like a woman looking in on her own life. And what a miserable lot I had, but like the flame of a cottage on a weary path, there you were.
I remembered what it was to feel better than okay. To feel like myself. Free of expectations and worries, it was like a weight lifted from my chest, I could finally breathe.
You gave me confidence when I had none. I could shout, and yell, and dance without feeling like someone was watching.
It felt like a dream that would burst the moment that you let it go. Something soft, and ephemeral. I thought that It was meant for someone so rough and plain like me.
But you taught me to accept myself. I could allow dreams to become a reality as rough and plain as the hearth that warmed me at night. And now I’ll have my dream warm my bed at night.” As Magus took her last step she lit her candle off the flame of Alatadriel’s.

“Now sharing in the flame of heavenly love. Please, present each other. The tokens of your love.” The couple both carefully set their candles into a dikirion.

Alatadriel extended her hands as she brought out a necklace with a black cord, holding a rectangular carved pendant at the end. The glittering silver pendant depicted a fox sleeping peacefully against a fireplace at the foot of its master’s chair. She carefully moved Magus’s hair as she placed the necklace on her neck.
Magus brought out her necklace. It was a rough leather cord on which a collection of polished semi-precious stones were placed. Primarily jasper, but with other stones such as tigers eye and sardonyx. At the end of the necklace was a large fire agate carved with a simple wave cresting the ocean on the pendant. Alatadriel helped Magus as she struggled somewhat to get the necklace on the taller woman.

“Alatadriel do you take Magus Ravenhold to be your lawfully wedded wife?”

“More than anything in the world.” The couple both looked deeply into each other’s eyes as they both held their candles across from each other.

“Magus Ravenhold do you take Alatadriel to be your lawfully wedded wife.”

“More than you could imagine.”

“May we now extinguish the fires of your previous lives so that the fires of passion may burn within you anew.” Two helpers readied large buckets of water near the firepit. “As the candles, you have placed upon the dikirion melt, they will become one with each other. Upon that time, you will truly be able to call each other wives.” The helpers dumped their buckets into the firepit, as the steam ascended into the sky, the priest said. “You may now kiss the bride.”

Alatadriel, hesitating for but a second had Magus taking the lead. Looking rather strange as the shorter woman dipped Alatadriel down low. She stopped for a moment, booping her wife on the nose “Have I ever told you how much I love you?” Of all the kisses they had together, this was perhaps the most passionate.


~~~

The couple laid down on a bed of soft grass, snuggled together in a large blanket they looked up into the fiery sky above. “I told you that it was transcendent didn’t I?”

Magus looked up into the sky as the aurora danced above like heavenly dancers. “I know, but… Well, I don’t know what I imagined, but I certainly couldn’t imagine anything like this.”

Alatadriel snuggled in closer. “I should have brought another blanket though. I didn’t expect it to be quite so cold this time of the month.”

Magus had a sly grin on her face. “You know what’d help you warm up?”

Alatadriels hands reached down low “I think, I know what you’re talking about.”

Magus’s face grew red as she moved on top of Alatadriel “Ready for round 2?”

[AlexanderML]

[Originally posted 2/4/20]
Valrion, Ulmor, Ragdios, and More - The Empire of the Sugradi:

After Valrion and the two that were there for it’s creation had left the changed palace of Holy High they had decided to travel across the empire, for Valrion wished to see the empire that they would take as their own with their own eyes. They visited all the different sorts of kingdoms of the empire, and traveled from the frozen northern frontier to the sweltering lowlands They traveled in relative secrecy, with the three rarely revealing their true identities; though at times it was too much for the vessel and it revealed it’s true self to those they met.

The first kingdom they visited was the Gragani kingdom of Silver Roads, where the Valrion was able to obtain much needed goods that it had never considered before (food being a concept that was particularly hard for the vessel to grasp at first). With it’s companions eager fervor, they were able to quickly obtain powerful exotic perfumes that almost covered the vessels horrendous smell. Ulmor was happily surprised when Valrion proved a natural trader, knowing just when someone felt they still had a good deal while still making a profit naturally, and decided to encourage the vessel to get involved in local trade.They did not stay long, for Ragdios insisted that they leave, fearing the influence of these merchants on the vessel.



Moving north along the Gleaming Road they next entered an Ulister queendom called Liliy Bloom. The vessel and it’s companions took their time to view the beauty of the land and its people. One morning while visiting one of the local markets for supplies, Valrion met the young princess of the land by chance of fate and was invited back to the queendom’s palace after she recognized the counselor Ragdios. At first meeting Valrion, the queen of this land knew who the vessel was, for with one gaze her sharp eyes could not see the vessel as anything but divine; yet with few words between them she agreed to keep the vessel’s secret.

Here the kind giants gave wise advice, knowledge of the body, and taught the vessel much about what it means to be kind even to Luvit. One night the young princess of the land was struck with deadly sickness of a powerful curse, some remnant of spite from the mutants of the north that would steal one of the royal daughter’s every ten winters at dawn. None of the healing knowledge of the Ulister’s worked, and not even the Wizard of Healing Waters knew of a cure to this sudden illness. A luvit came to Valrion and their companions in the middle of the night to beg for the aid of the counselor; yet he could give none, for his strength waned during the night light all good users of magic. Instead Ragdios had Valrion go for as he stated to the vessel “The dawn walks within you, even in the darkest night.” Within moments of having entered the princesses, the shining light that came from Valrion’s hands had shattered the curse and let the princess rest in peace.



Thinking that if they stayed any longer that the vessel’s identity would be found out before they wished to reveal themselves, the three departed further north to the cold lands of the Icandans. Here the vessel was not welcomed, no matter what sweet words they used. The Icandan’s were not a very open people to outsiders at the best of times, but now they were in the mists of two attacks upon them from the barbaric mutants of the north and the stupid men of Sur on their swift steeds to the south. A century of Tradano had arrived to aid the Icandan’s, though they were fully focused on defeating the mutants (who were too much for such a small force) and ignored the Sur. The Valrion, using a bird of ice crafted by Ulmor, tracked down the Sur and drove them away from the good lands of the empire.

Having defeated the Sur Valrion traveled north to drive off the mutants, deciding to engage when the Tradano did, though it soon became clear that this was going to be a far harder task for the vessel. The mutants were not men, but fleshy monsters vaguely humanoid that tore the land before them with rage and fire. Seeing these vicious flames made the Valrion hesitate, the dark dream of the evil godlings in its mind; even making them run away (for a time at least), only returning once Ulmor had found vessel and spoke of the plight of the soldiers who were bravely fighting the mutants. Ulmor was just in time, for when Valrion had returned the battle was lost and the Tradono were fighting axe to claw with the mutants, their hoplite wall shattered. With one hand covering their eyes, the vessel let for the first time the power of Yir into the world (though somewhat contained, not trusting what would happen otherwise).

Up on high quickly taking the situation in, the sun spoke down with booming words as beams of cleansing light scoured the mutants: “I am the Pure Lord Above, Yir, and by MY power shall barbarity and sorcery not rule this day!” The mutants could not withstand this attack, and were nearly slaughtered to the last before one or two of the more talented sorcerers could escape. The Tradono cheered, their lives saved by their god in an obvious miracle, with Valrion’s involvement in bringing down the god’s power not known for years to come.

The Icandans did hear of Valrion’s deeds with the Sur, which with the mutants defeat lead to them treating the vessel as a guest for a time. For a time Valrion learned what they could of the strange sorceries and hermit knowledge of the mystics, but had no time to properly learn the magic of these people or the knowledge passed down through their shamans. After a moon, Valrion and their companions decided to continue their journey.



The next leg of the companions journey lead them to the eternally cold lands of the Cavpo and the many minor clans that lived among the Northern Stonethroe Mountain region. It would have taken them months to travel across these mountains to Tumeria if it were not for Ulmor’s knowledge of the Cavpo settlements and secret roads.

Though Ulmor was glad to return to his home, even able to spend two days back in his personal lab at one point, Valrion and Ragdios could not stand the Cavpo settlements that were bereft of the sun above (though Valrion was still amazed at the dark world that was below them, something completely alien to them before then).

At one point the Circle of Arch-Wizards appeared before the vessel, the Arch-Wizard of Divination having seen the coming of the vessel of Yir weeks beforehand in the ‘stars below’. Each of the Arch-Wizards swore fealty to the vessel, and offered items of magic, trying to get into the good gracious of the vessel before it inevitably took the empire for its own. Valrion became engaged in conversation, returning the intentions of the wizards, with Ulmor and Ragdios left to watch on the sideline. As things progressed, Ulmor noticed that Valarion was becoming a bit too engaged (starting to consider many radical ideas the Arch-Wizards had), and quickly had Ragdios help him remove the enthralled vessel from the situation. It apparently was no magic that held the vessel, simply the giants own desire for change and appeasement overwhelming the vessel.


[DINO STUFF]

Eventually the three giants had finished their crossing over the mountains and reached the green lands of Tumeria. A welcome relief after enduring the frost for so long. Ragdios nearly dragged the vessel to the various temples of the kingdoms they passed along the rivers they traveled. In these lands Valrion noticed the lives of luvits in detail for the first time, and was surprised at how similar they were to the blessed Sugradi; however intentional it was.

Here the Valrion encountered some of the strangest creatures yet in its life, for among the forested lands of Tumeria a vicious group of fiends had been destroying luvit villages and homes, with many sugradi of various clans being injured or even killed as well (mostly Tradano hunters). Strange beasts had appeared, calling themselves ceratopsians, seeking shelter; and while they claimed innocence and ignorance to the attacks, they were locked in iron cages and treated with little respect (though few thought that they were actually the attackers, no one was sure).

Valrion themself saw the beasts and flew into a rage at the state of care they were given, for these creatures had been blessed by Yir to have majesty in their souls that was now being belittled.

“These creatures are of another sort then us, yes, but they are still beings with the spark of majesty in their souls! Release them!”

The Tradano did not, wishing to see the real culprits before giving any trust to the ceratopsians. Valrion, after a few words from Ragdios, agreed to this to ease the Tradano’s minds on the matter and punish the real monsters. Though for the time being they left their two companions behind while they hunted with the Tradano to make sure that the ceratopsians were treated fairly.

When the vessel finally caught-up with the real culprits, it ended quickly. The majority of the raptors had gathered together into a large pack, traveling across the outskirts of Tumeria from village to village. Everywhere they went, either their bloodlust got the better of them and they surprised the inhabitants or the village would attack the bloody raptors when they did try diplomacy. When Valrion gazed upon the pack, they were enraged. These beings were blessed with an inner majesty as well, yet were consumed by their bloodlust, slaughtering sugradi and luvit’s alike.

Calling upon their innate power once again, Valrion cracked the earth with a stomp of their foot so deeply that the pack would not be able to easily escape, and had the surprised Tradano watch for any that would try. As the raptors shook in fear and awe, gazing at the now shining figure before them, they heard.

“How dare you, how DARE you TARNISH the MAJESTY inside your souls?! You who hold light within your souls DARE harm those with that same light? The scale of these dishonorable acts are unforgivable, you cannot even give your own lives to remove this stain upon your honor. You beasts deserve-” the vessel stopped for a moment as it looked down at the raptors, and while no other mammalian being might have been able to easily recognize it, Valrion felt not just the fear and awe but also regret. It was painful to accept, but something had to be done. “-...to fight to become better.... I promise you, you shall have the chance. One day your kind shall be worthy of the light in your souls.”

A brave raptor spoke up “Whenssss thisss day to come?”

“When the lives lost by your Folly, and all future lives that would have been, are returned twofold by each of you and your blood. You shall return with me, but before then I shall have each of you swear oaths unbreaking before you depart, those refusing to accept penance shall die as the beasts they are.” Gravely, inspired, and in-between the raptors swore oaths under the light that none but they and Valrion remember.

When Valrion returned to their companions with the raptors in tow, everyone was astonished at the ‘taming’ of the beasts. The vessel raised their hand to silence these words from the Tradano. “They are not beasts, but those that shall seek the honor lost in their Folly. As long as they repent, as long as they strive for the day in another far away Age where they can be forgiven, then they shall be taught, and go where you go so that they may gain honor.” Surprisingly, these Tradano actually accepted, though they did so more out of wanting to use the raptors rather than work with them, but Valrion knew that in short time they would be able to acknowledge one another as compatriots.

The ceratopsians were released, escorted outside of Tumeria (which had seen enough scaly folk), many of them headed towards the icy lands of the Cavpo (at Ulmor’s suggestion of them being welcomed there) though most headed to the queendom of Green Side where they were greeted with a great deal of hesitation, but overall were able to begin to establish themselves.



[Originally posted 2/9/20: Perfection and Retribution:]

Valrion, Yir - Outside Yimor the City of Shining Bronze and Stone - Perfection:

After their travels the demi-god had decided that they would move towards the capital Yimor (also known as the city of shining bronze and stone) to see the heart of the empire up close, though they’re heart still yearned to see more of the empire (and perhaps past it) afterwards before taking up the throne. The sights and adventures the vessel has seen were things it valued greatly, for they were so much… more than the slow moving image of the world.

A day before the vessel was to arrive at the city, on a whim it decided to take a long detour off the Gold Road and visit one of the shrines that dotted the lands of the Sugradi; the shining path to it drawing the vessel towards the holy site of Yir. Valrion was no fool and knew that they were being called by Yir, it’s majesty trying to subtly call the vessel to a place where it wished to talk.

The shrine that Yir had drawn the vessel towards was a simple one, a marble floor with a few pillars surrounding a bronze statue of the sun which on this day alone glowed with the holy light of Yir as it focused it’s gaze down upon this place. As Valrion stode forward onto the marble floor it noticed that Yir was reserved, not letting itself feel much, yet the sense of duty and frustration mutely there. It spoke to Valrion with a commanding voice.

“My vessel of light that walks this world, your journey must end and you must rule the blessed with MY light.”

This was not unexpected, yet Valrion questioned “Why must I stop my journey now? I’ve grown fond of this life of travel and I still save those that I encounter.”

The frustration in Yir flared for with a tinge of anger. “You would dare question MY will? YOU might not be able to tell, but to the east in the Silver Wastes where the blessed wither from the harsh heat the heretical Muji of the City of Blue Stone gathers his armies to attack this empire of my blessed. I know not the details for few are of my light within the land, I know they praise MY name and yet for some reason insist on their heresy.”

Insulted Valrion spat back “I can deal with them myself, there is no need for me to be emperor now.”

“There is! They need to still fight their own wars unless absolutely necessary. It helps them grow, for every war makes them greater. You are needed to help them through these struggles, help them grow. Not fight their battles for them.”

Yir was now angry, yet Valrion could not help but state: “How could horror and terror make them grow?”

Yir was going to answer the vessel's question, but it’s anger got the best of it. “How DARE you continue to question MY sight! Your mind has grown weak and your soul is more corrupt with every night. I truly thought that the cursed godlings corruption would wither before the inner light within your soul, but I was wrong. I see that it has grown with time to consume you! I will NOT allow this! You shall be PURIFIED!”

Fear entered Valrion’s heart for the first time since they were upon the Grey Plains, for it knew it just pushed Yir too far. As light began to consume it the vessel yelled with fear “NO, please! Light Above, don’t do this to me! I- I wish to not change!” Yir did not heed the vessel’s plea, indeed those words just made it more angry. Yelling in anguish Valrion screamed to the world around it “I want to be ME!”

It’s not often seen, but sometimes when someone screams out in anguish something DOES listen to you. For the consuming light around the vessel wavered and the changes it was making were denied absolute perfection. Not much but this wrinkle might at some point be the vessel’s salvation.

Influance Single Mortal 1 AP/ 1 DC (15 AP remaining)

Yir perfects the Vessel (Valrion) to be more suited to its needs, mainly by heavily reducing the influence the other gods gave it, but also by trying to strengthen the connection the gamble god severed.

+2 Sun: The Vessel ties to the sun are strengthened. As long as it’s in sunlight, the Vessel gains the power to teleport to anywhere else where there is Yir’s sunlight (including other planes). If the Vessel uses this power, Yir will know where they left and where they teleported to. The Vessel loses the dream where it kills Yir, the memory and impact completely wiped away as well as the ambition to subvert Yir’s position (though it retains its own ambitions, they are targeted towards something else which is heavily influenced by Yir).

+2 Giant: The body of the Vessel becomes perfected, it’s form becomes something that cannot be pierced, hampered, or changed; and it’s glowing beauty is something that none can deny (it looks subtly different for different people). This body has no need for food, drink, or even air (though it could still indulge in these things, Yir did not think of that). The horrible stench from the decay god is gone, replaced with a comforting smell that always makes those more at ease (different for each person).

+2 Majesty: The mind of Valrion is subverted to the will of the sun god. Any command that Yir gives the Vessel cannot be ignored or disobeyed by the Vessel (though it can do word-play as to what Yir commands). However, the Vessel also gains a minor version of this power, able to enforce any oaths it’s ever taken from others with godly power (restricted to one oath per creature, not applicable to gods, path masters or Su sorcerers).

It’s art becomes more musical and full of cheer, focused more on the positives of life and good morals than hating on others (one of the few changes Valrion approves of). Yir also scourges out the insidious fear of fire inside the vessel, while also making sure that the Vessel cannot be frightened to a point beyond strategic retreat (so it won’t suicidally charge or stay in an unwinnable fight)

-2 Arrogance: Yir is fighting the collective influence of many gods, it’s efforts for 100% perfection are doomed to failure. There are ways around all it’s blessings and all it’s chains, though they may be difficult to think of or inact.

-2 Petulance: Valrion’s scream of defiance resonated with divinity, and disrupted the purification of Yir. This gives Valrion the ability to subvert the hold Yir has over it, particularly during the night. It retains its own will and with extreme effort can fight against the will of Yir.




Yir Above the Gnaw Wastes - Retribution:

The sun could feel the power of the lesser godlings make the land of the barbarian’s more fertile, giving gifts to the Beast (Su’ul) that had spawned Monsters (mutants) to ravage the blessed of Yir’s. Looking down on the project, all Yir could think of was the recent battle upon the Grey Plains that very nearly became the slaughter of the Age.

Oh, how the dark and vile godlings seemed to openly and blatantly show their love for the perverse and ruthless through their blessings. Even the fool helped in the effort, though at this point Yir suspected that it would aid any project and just blindly did evil and good without thought or care for what is right.

Boldly declaring over the land filled with the lesser godlings power, Yir spoke down below to the Beast (Su’ul) and the Monsters (mutants):

“I am Yir, the one Above All. I have seen the vileness in your heart, and the monstrosity in your souls that would have you harm those that are good and pure. By my absolute rule above All, I deem you Guilty of deeds vile, and worthy of no reward that would let you create more monsters. By my perfect judgement, shall this land not let you propagate freely and harm the pure again.”


+2 Sun: The light from the sun has chaotic effects in the Gnaw Wastes, going from blistering heat to freezing cold within days. Heavy floods and disasters are in store for these lands.

+2 Majesty: Yir’s judgement is absolute* and by it’s judgement those that ever harm the blessed of Yir find that they gain no nutrition from the crops of the Gnaw Wastes. Those that become afflicted by the curse find it dissipates slowly with time, fully being removed after a year and a day (though it becomes manageable far earlier).
*sometimes

+1 Perfection: Yir’s curse has the side-effect of making those that are born in these farmable lands poor farmers.

[gac3]

Cult of The Mad God

The great master of the path of emotion rose from his spot where he had been sitting on the beach. To be fair, he was merely the farthest along the path and not yet a true master. He entered the treeline and made his way deep towards a vast clearing. His magicite and amberis necklace shown with a bright yellow.

Standing at the center of the clearing he waits patiently. His watching disciples do not know how long he stays like that but the children are sure that it must be hours. Five minutes have passed when suddenly the clearing erupts with motion. A terror unlike any the island has known bursts into the open area and begins to attack the Grand Master. Luckily, the Grand Master is, in truth as well as name, a master of the Warrior form. He holds his own against the best, speaking softly to it, stroking it as it passes. Soon more of the beasts arrive but not all are the same. There is another kind.

For nearly a week the Grand Master stays in the clearing and beats back every challenger of these beasts. One form of these beasts challenges him much more while the other watches and observes. It is on the ninth day that finally the beasts stop and speak. "Who are you?"

The old man turns to the assembled crowd of cultists, tongues and terrors alike. "I have seen the bonds these people share with one another. The warrior spirit burns within them. And these others who sit and watch and do nothing, they have the chance to gain us wisdom for the ages. It shall be my mark on these people to bring our groups together in service of the mad god."

He then leads them all to the Lucent Crown. He explains the story of the crown to the crowd. "This is the symbol of our service to the mad god. It is how we know that we are yet not worthy of the trust he has bestowed upon us. Here we have much knowledge that we have gathered. The gods have taught us magics and how to form metal from the blood of trees. The travellers have brought us texts we have yet to decipher. Should you serve along side us, you would share in this knowledge as you have shared in our language. I ask the Mad god to send us a sign that this union is blessed by his will."

At that very moment, Timorin arrived in the clearing. "Greetings my people. I see you have all gathered to celebrate my arrival. This time however I bear no gifts. I have a promise though. I have a great work to bring forth before you and to gift to your people. One that will bring you into a new age of knowledge. All I ask from you is a single death and I shall bring those loyal to me together as one people."

The terror that first fought the Grand Master that first day took a step forward. "I shall pay the price to unite our people's."

Timorin smiles. He didn't expect it to be that easy. He may need another death if he was being honest, but he would try one for now and see how much power it granted him. His project to unite these people with his others throughout the globe would be well on its way soon.


From here the terrors found a place among the cult of the mad god. Those who chose to at least. Some decided to risk trying on the crown for the offer of power and destiny but many took up the more aggressive jobs. They guarded the coasts and the crown. They were the ones kept close at hand when someone would try on the crown.

The tongues however still felt quite left out and unsure of their place but those that found a home on the Isles of Madness began trying to decipher the texts travellers had left behind and serving as the thinkers for the islands.


Secondary Action 1AP Sacrifice 1 person for 6 BP

[gac3]

Graw Wastes

Timorin can feel the powers rumbling again, focusing on some meaningless area of nothingness. Here Timorin was with blood stains still on his shoe from sacrificing the terrors and everybody is focused on the middle of nowhere. Timorin would have to go see this place himself. In a flash Timorin is standing in the waste, uninterested in what he beholds. "Why do people seem to care so much about this place? There are some mortals and some crops growing but it doesn't seem likely they will have enough to get through the winter."

With a sigh, Timorin shakes his head and looks back down to his blood soaked Sandles. Shrugging, he takes them off and begins wiping the blood on a small patch of ground that actually seemed to be growing some small plants. Then an idea struck him. He waved his hand and the blood soaked from his shoes and the grass there was immediately a tad healthier.

"I don't think I'll tell anyone of this one. Let's see if they can discover for themselves." Then in a wave he is gone.


Su'le:

+2 drama to making the Graw waste hospitable. Timorin tries to bless the land so that blood (any, animal, mortal, new, old, small amounts, or buckets) would serve as a super fertilizer in the wastes. Of course normal fertilizers will still work but blood soaks into the pained land more readily and fuels crops more thoroughly

[Garjel_blah]

Chapter 2, Turn 2 rolls

Petr(36 AP) - conceive Nerassus (18 AP/14 DC) +2 Water/+2 Healing/+1 Rainbow/+2 Moonpool
Yir, +2 Majesty/+2 Sun/-2 Arrogance, giant radiant sorcerer
Alatadriel, +2 Fire/+2 Foxes, passion for justice
Avestra, +2 Nature, animal friend while kind to nature
Grawissen, +7 the usual, big armour big brain
Timorin, +2 Drama/+2 War, cape
Chern, +4 Decay/-2 Downtrodden, weakening aura
Su'ule, +1 Birth/+2 Sorcery/+2 Monsters, monstrous children
Kahar-Djin, +2 Thresholds/+1 Travellers, no gate restriction
Ymon-Thal, +2 Life, soul sense
Dulnori, +1 Dreams, buffed shamanism
[roll0]

Ymon-Thal (32 AP) - remake Thal-Verys (18 AP/14 DC) +2 Life/+2 Death/+1 Balance
Alatadriel, +2 Fire, seven-layered lantern (septalantern?)
Petr, +2 Water/+2 Healing/+1 Rainbow, gifts (cloak, book, crown)
Yir, -1 Majesty/-1 Sun/-1 Perfection, aura of grief
Grawissen, +2 Knowledge/+2 Mining, memory
Chern, +1 Fermentation, chum flask
Timorin, +2 War/+2 Drama, Flail for the Dramatic
Dulnori, -1 Dreams, homesickness for Steppe
[roll1]

Timorin (38 AP) - load up the Divine World (18 AP/14 DC) +2 War/+2 Drama/+1 Games/-2 Fear
Alatadriel, +2 Fire/+2 Foxes/+1 Bees, mansion
Avestra, +2 Nature/+2 Birds, lake island
Petr, +2 Water, ocean garden
Yir, +2 Sun/+2 Majesty/-2 Arrogance, sun and temple
Grawissen, +2 Knowledge/+2 Architecture/+1 Writing, library
Chern, +4 Decay, swamp ruins
Ymon-Thal, +2 Life/+2 Death/-2 Unliving, sea of souls bridge
Dulnori, +2 Fortune/+2 Ambition, Emerald Castle
[roll2]
Secondary - sacrifice one mortal (1 AP)

Alatadriel (32 AP) - deprogram the racists (12 AP/8 DC) +2 Fire/+2 Foxes
Ymon-Thal, +2 Life, living other cultures
[roll3]

Grawissen (34 AP) - Deja Vu! (18 AP/14 DC) +2 Mining/+2 Knowledge/+2 Architecture/+1 Writing
Alatadriel, -2 Fire/-2 Foxes/-1 Bees/+2 Arrogance, malevolent persuasiveness
Petr, +2 Water/+2 Healing/-2 Pain, sympathetic of host
Kahar-Djin, -2 Thresholds, no killing
Chern, +4 Decay/+1 Fermentation, drunk cloning
Ymon-Thal, +2 Death, death sense
Avestra, +2 Nature/+2 Birds, eagle wings
Timorin, -2 Drama/-1 Games/+2 Fear, reckless
Dulnori, +2 Ambition/+2 Fortune, lucky
[roll4]

Kahar-Djin (30 AP) - explore the Stricken Lands (4 AP/2 DC) +2 Thresholds/+2 Paths/+1 Travellers/-2 Unexplored
[roll5]

Avestra (42 AP) - dream up the Otherworld Amulet (16 AP/12 DC) +2 Nature/+2 Birds
Petr, +2 Water/+1 Rainbow, flowery Eaglebeak Rock
Timorin, +2 Drama, guiding bear dreams
Grawissen, +2 Knowledge/+2 Mining/+1 Writing, mind reading and dreammite
[roll6]

Chern (44 AP) - let the terrors kill him (10 AP/6 DC) +4 Decay
Grawissen, +2 Knowledge/+1 Writing, intelligence and language
[roll7]
Secondary - scry the Boa Jungle and surrounding regions (12 AP)

Su'ule (38 AP) - terraform the Gnaw Wastes (16 AP/12 DC) +2 Sorcery/+1 Birth
Grawissen, +2 Knowledge/+2 Mining/+1 Writing, expertise and zoptzenk
Petr, +2 Water/+2 Healing, mild weather and hardy roots
Dulnori, +2 Fortune/+2 Ambition, bountiful and tasty harvest
Yir, -2 Sun/-2 Majesty/-1 Perfection, adverse weather and farming as well as giant immune response
Timorin, +2 Drama, blood fertiliser
[roll8]

Dulnori (44 AP) - try again with the Golden Dragons (12 AP/8 DC) +2 Fortune/+2 Ambition/+1 Dreams
Su'ule, +2 Monsters/+2 Sorcery/+1 Birth/-2 Willfulness, sorcery dragons
[roll9]

Yir (32 AP) - purify Valrion (1 AP/0 DC) +2 Sun/+2 Majesty/+2 Giant/-2 Arrogance/-2 Petulance
[roll10]

Nestellbam (26 AP) - no action

Opulon (50 AP) - no action

Vreyalas (50 AP) - no action

[Garjel_blah]

Chapter 2, Turn 2 resolution

Petr (18 AP) - success
The divine child Nerassus grew within Petr, strong and healthy. Many gifts were bestowed upon him at the Moonpool baby shower, an event that would go down in history as the first major conclave of the gods. On top of the rainbow carriage and adeptness on the water given by his parent Petr, he received a rainbow bib/cape from the god Timorin, and a suit of armour from the god Grawissen. The sun god Yir granted its characteristic giantism and skill with radiant sorcery, a fiery passion for justice was ignited by the tipsy fox Alatadriel, Ymon-Thal enlightened him with the ability to perceive souls, a pact was entered with Dulnori to teach shamanism, Chern cursed his enemies with weakness, and even Su'ule came by to grant Nerasssus the ability to painlessly and prolifically produce heirs (monstrous ones if desired).
Avestra offered a strange gift - the kinship of nature as long as he never harmed a wild creature. Last, but not least, Kahar-Djin lifted the travel ban on sorcerers through the Sanctuary gates for the young demigod, allowing him to explore the world. It was quite the party!
Nerassus, +2 Justice/-2 Flesh

Ymon-Thal (14 AP) - success
The prophet Verys has been through much in her life - and beyond. And it had all led to this. The Aeon who had come so far was offered the eternal task of shepherding souls into the Passing, and she accepted, becoming Thal-Verys. Some were dismayed - Yir, who she had helped to spurn with her prophesy of Theshana, cursed her with an aura of grief and joylessness, while Dulnori, her old patron god, jealously tormented her with the memory of her old home. Other gods were more supportive, giving gifts to help her bear her burden. A magical seven-layered lantern from Alatadriel, a regal outfit and scholarly tome from Petr, a flask of comforting spirits from Chern, and the Flail for the Dramatic from Timorin.
Thal-Verys, +2 Souls/-2 Grief

Timorin (19 AP/3 BP) - success
Reality shuddered once again, as a new realm forced itself through the bedrock of being - the Divine World, the realm of the gods, diviworld for short. It was split into sixteen, a piece for each god current and past, and they were thus:
The Solomn Lands - bland and safe.
The Barren Dunes - scattered with broken chains and shattered cages.
The Madlands - blood red hunting grounds and colosseums.
The Den of Foxes - a luxurious mansion.
The Island of Rarity - an island for exotic species set in the middle of a lake.
The Adrift Gardens - islands scattered through a vibrant ocean.
The Sacred Temple - where the sun spends the longest.
The Gods' Library - where all the knowledge of the pantheon resides.
The Bog of Ruin - a dilapidated castle sinking into the swamp.
The Bridge of Souls - a looping bridge over a sea of souls, flanked by twin towers.
The Emerald Castle - a casino of games and attractions.
Five sixteenths of the diviworld remained untouched, for now at least (I'm going to say that an influence city action is required to fill them in individually, or state to do them all at once).

Alatadriel (20 AP) - success
The Indriel administration's efforts to unify their newly occupied lands proved to be most successful. Marriages between diverse groups were carried out en masse, hundreds of new recruits were brought in from across the continent, and the common folk's tolerance was much improved through the personal tuition of Alatadriel.

Grawissen (16 AP) - success
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dv13gl0a-FA
DEJA VU! Have we not met before?
A winged, jacketed, blue and purple woolly rhino gaudily materialised behind Grawissen, the spirit of heroism. He would bond to a mortal to grand them unique powers, as long as they needed them to perform heroic acts. These powers, their extents and limitations, are as diverse as they are bizarre due to the influence of multiple conflicting gods. First and foremost, Deja Vu is able to transmute objects into any kind of earthly material, and can communicate telepathically or feel the sensations of his host mortal over long distances. He brings good luck and combat expertise to his host, and his powers of persuasion are difficult for mortals to resist. In addition, whenever his host mortal is inebriated in some way Deja Vu is able to slit into multiple copies of himself.
His main limitation is his restriction from using his powers to kill, helped by his ability to sense when a mortal is close to death. This is contrasted with his generally reckless and sometimes overly-combative personality.
Deja Vu, +2 Heroism/-2 Murder

Kahar-Djin (26 AP) - success
At the command of their god, Bron and his Missionaries set off up the Stricken Lands. Though the journey was long and tough, they traversed the entire continent and crested its tallest northern mountain, building on their path a great gate. There they would learn - and teach - the Way of the Cardinal Fist in seclusion from the wider world.

Avestra (26 AP) - success
In a flowery cave at the summit of Eaglebeak Rock, the goddess Avestra forged her Otherworld Amulet (+2 Dreams). The amberis trinket had the power to grant mortals entry into the dreams of another being, at the cost of their own sanity if they used it too often. Sometimes, the user might dream of themselves as a bear, and those dreams could sometimes foretell their destiny and guide them to their life's purpose. Skilled users of the amulet might even be able to read others' minds while awake, and harvest the exotic dreammite mineral that generated around it.

Chern (22 AP) - success
let the terrors kill him (10 AP/6 DC) +4 Decay
Chern died and died and died, thousands of deaths were suffered at the clawed raptor claws of the terrors. But it was worth it. He guided the wretched beings to his oasis, where they were left spent and exhausted of their innate bloodlust, finally ready to start talking amongst themselves and establishing a sense of community. Where this would go, who could say, but it would be better than frenzying themselves to an early death.

Su'ule (22 AP) - success
For the first time in millennia, the Graw Wastes experienced a measure of what some might call pleasant weather. Where once there had only been harshness, Su'ule sowed the ground with fertility. The wastelanders would finally be able to work themselves out of a squalid, magic-sustained existence. The mutants had some difficulty at first, not only due to their inexperience, but also due to the meddling of the southern god Yir. However, there were many other contributing forces to help oppose this initial uncertainty, and soon they were growing delicious roots and crop harvests, and preserving their produce in the salty zoptzenk mineral. The main struggle from their was that the southern giants seemed to provoke a sickness in northern mutants, causing their food to lose its richness and health. It became less popular to raid the south, since home was now just as comfortable and the effort proved less worthwhile. Then again, giant blood was good fertiliser...

Dulnori (32 AP) - success
At last! The Golden Dragon that Dulnori had assembled in the steppe now ground itself to life, its wise golden eyes sweeping the plains. It took to the skies, joined by its kin. They would bring fortune and wisdom to the mortals, as well as their own unique form of innate sorcery.

Yir (31 AP) - success
The newly created Valrion had dissatisfied his patron god, and so Yir had taken punitive, purifying measures. The curses of the other gods, including pesky nuisances such as free will, were stricken from the young mind, and additional powers added in such as the ability to teleport in sunlight.

Nestellbam (26 AP) - no action

Opulon (50 AP) - no action

Vreyalas (50 AP) - no action

Alright, time for turn 3. Finally! Go nuts everyone, let's try and be quick about it to make up for this last turn.

[Godzillarich]

King Ostrom waited at the entrance of the city, as a bunch of his guards loaded suitcases. “We need to pick up the pace you know how whiny Imperator Thrang when you even a second later one of his grand meetings.”

“Your Majesty!” someone yelled out as he ran towards the King with a box. “Some new goodies were given to us by some local traders, do you want to examine them?”

“As much as I want to I gotta go watch a baby wine for three days.” The king said as he climbed up on his chariot. “Have some of the other scholars look at it for now and I’ll check on it when I get back.” he then turned to the rest of his men. “Alright let’s head out.” And with that, the chariot Road off.

Young soldiers then looked back at the box. “Well, I suppose it will be a nice surprise after dealing with Thrang for about a weekend at the very least.”


______
Sunset Forest

A small village on the outskirts of the Empire, over generations the Crow people have been losing more and more of the home from the Empire from the north. They have known nothing but hostility from the outside world… That is until unlikely travelers arrived.

“And that is how you write.” A tongue sat at one end of the campfire is a bunch of crow children who were captivated by the weird dinosaurs lessons. “Writing is a difficult concept especially when you don’t have hands but once you get the hang of it, it works like magic.”

As this was going on to adult Crow people watched from a distance.

“Are you sure we can trust these beings?”

“I’m skeptical, but they’ve been here for a few weeks and have it cause any trouble…”

“But they come from the north…”

“Killing them out of fear will solve nothing, at best we piss off the Empire by killing their spies, at worst we kill a bunch of innocent friendly creatures.”

The sound of horse-drawn chariots rattled in the distance. “Oh no.” the adults mumbled. “Kids! get inside.” the kids got up from the campfire and ran inside a nearby cave.

A group of about 50 armed men marched into sites. A group of local bandits who take advantage of the Crow people’s low-tech to steal their supplies. In the center of the group was a chariot being pulled by two horses and a muscular man in Golden armor sitting in it. “Oh, what do we have here?” the imposing man said as he got off his chariot, “a bunch of pigeons trying their hardest to grab the scraps from the ground.” About 20 adults in the village readied their spears. “HA, that’s cute, you think twigs can stand up to us?”

“Hold on there for a second...:” a voice interrupted. It was the Tongue who moved in front of the Crow people. “... There doesn’t need to be violence here. The crows mean no harm to anyone. All they want to do is live their lives in peace. There is no need to go into pointless blood…”

Just then the general stabbed the Tongue in the throat with his rapier. “Oh, I’m sorry I don’t speak lizard.” He pulled his sword out of the poor dinosaur throat as the tongue fell to the ground.” the general smiled as he turned towards the Crow people. “Recently we’ve been making really good progress when it comes to extorting you people but we could still make a little bit more” The general smiled as he pointed his rapier at the tribesman. “So here’s the deal surrender peacefully or die violently.” The tribe continued to hold steady. ”Oh you pick the fun answer.” he then turned to his men. “All right boys let’s get the killing.”

The sound of arrows filled the air as it punted the bodies of the Crow people. In an instant, the battle was over. “Jolly work.” the general smiled as he looked at the dead bodies littering the area. The general then turned his head towards the cave. “... those kids will probably make good slaves. Men bring the little ones out of the ca…”

“AHHHHHHHHHH!” screaming filled the air as a bunch of the general’s soldiers were sent flying.

“You go no further…” A voice rang out.

The soldiers and the general turned towards the voice. As the smoke cleared they saw the tongue standing there over the unconscious bodies of the soldiers. “What but I stabbed you in the throat…” the general said in shock. “No matter, I just had to be more vicious this time...” he then turned to his men. “Why are you people just sitting around? Kill the lizard!”

(Wham)

Suddenly a giant fist came out of the dinosaur and punched one of the soldiers. “You dare bring your villainy to these lands!” a voice shouted out. The general looked at the dinosaur and realized it wasn’t her who was talking. Slowly a spirit of merged from the tongue, Déjà vu. “I’m giving you two options, leave this land or leave this land with a bunch of broken…” Déjà vu stopped himself, he caught an arrow in midair there was heading directly towards his face. “... So you have chosen to have broken bones then.”

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NFjE5A4UAJI

Déjà vu through the arrow back, hitting the soldier in the foot. “BRING IT!” the fast traction of his fists almost like lightning as each punch sent another soldier flying. “I did say you were going to have broken bones at the end of this.”

The remaining soldiers’ circle around the dinosaur and déjà vu. “You can’t stop all of us!”

Déjà vu smiled. “Are you sure about that?” he then looked down at his host. “See how far we can jump.

“Okay…” The tongue said nervously, still really confused about what was going on. She jumped into the air. And to her amazement rocketed off into the sky. “WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON!”

“Heroism!” Déjà Vu yelled out, the dinosaur then noticed that her body was turning into steel.

“AHHHHHHHHH!”

“Don’t worry, it’s only temporary…” Déjà vu then looked down to the ground. “CANNONBALL!!” and with that, the dinosaur's steely body slammed into the ground, sending the remaining soldiers flying. “That’s what we’re talking about! Great work!”

The female tongue simply stood there shaking as a body turned back the flesh. “What the hell just happened?”

“HAHAHAHAHAHA '' laughter filled the air. The tongue and Déjà Vu turned their heads towards the cave and saw the general holding up one of the children. “I don’t know what type of demon you are but this ends here.” The general yelled as he held his rapier next to the child’s throat. “You’re gonna let me cut your head off or this child is no longer going to have a head, HAHAHAAHAHAHAHA!”

The tongue looked at the general in anger “That kid has nothing to do with this fight!”

“His kind has everything to do with this fight. The kid is part of a backward people that continue to waddle in the mud, to be quite frank killing the crows seems almost like a mercy killing.” He then raised his rapier close to the kid’s throat. “Last chance standdown or the kid dies!”

The Tongue stared in horror “What are we…” she then realized déjà vu was gone. “Um, weird spirit guy?”

“Hey pay attention to me...“ The general yelled in anger “Last chance, stand down or the kid di…”

(WHAM)

A massive first emerged from the kid punching the general in the face, making him let go of the kid. “AH! YOU MOTHER****ER!” as he fell down and grabbed his face.

The general then noticed the kids standing over him, Déjà Vu hovering above the kid. “The lowest scum to use a hostage.”

The general looked at the situation in horror. “Look we can talk, spirit man… I was only doing what I needed to do to survive… I didn’t want to kill these people.”

Déjà vu looked at him with disdain “Not even willing to take responsibility for your actions, you truly are pathetic.”

“PL...please don’t kill me… I’m a wealthy man... I can make it worth your wild.” the general bags, being nearly brought to tears.”

“Don’t worry I won’t kill you…” He then raised up his fists.”...but I can make you crave the mercy of Death.” he then launched his fists directly at the general. “ORA ORA ORA ORA ORA ORA ORA ORA ORA ORA ORA ORA ORA ORA ORA ORA ORA ORA ORA ORA ORA ORA ORA ORA ORA ORA ORA ORA ORA ORA ORA ORA ORA ORA ORA ORA ORA ORA ORA ORA ORA ORA ORA ORA ORA ORA ORA ORA ORA ORA ORA ORA ORA ORA ORA ORA ORA ORA ORA ORA ORA ORA ORA ORA ORA ORA ORA ORA ORA ORA ORA ORA ORA ORA ORA ORA ORA ORA ORA ORA ORA ORA ORA ORA ORA ORA ORA ORA ORA ORA ORA ORA ORA ORA ORA ORA ORA ORA ORA ORA ORA ORA ORA ORA ORA ORA ORA ORA ORA ORA.” straight 20 seconds of nothing but punching before being launched the general directly towards his chariot, slamming into it. Déjà vu then turned to the few soldiers that could still walk. “Leave this place, and never come to these lands again, by the will of my father, Grawissen, you will never hurt these people again!” the men then went running off back into the forest. “Déjà vu then looked down at the kid that he possessed. The kid had already walked over to the site of the adult’s dead bodies. The kids started to cry near the corpse of his father. “I am sorry… I am sorry I was too late…” and with that, he disappeared.

The tongue came over to the child as the rest of the kids walked out of the cave. The tongue looked at the grieving child and then the rest of the kids. “There is no time for mourning, we must get to a safe Village.”

On that day a kingship between the tongues and the crows was born. Most other people would have to be careful going through Sunset Forest but the tongues would always be welcome and the bandits knew never to raid the Crow people again because if they did Déjà Vu which showed them the meaning of pain.
_____________
Grawissen, Grawpolis beach- 16/50 AP

Graw walked along the beach outside of the city, staring into the ocean. "“It’s been so long hasn’t… A little simpler back than... I wonder how that squid’s life was...AH.” Graw yelled out as he dropped to his knees. A sharp pain coming from his chest. "“What in the world…” He thought to himself as the pain continued and then suddenly stopped. "“I guess that’s enough walking for me today…” as Graw walked back into the city a crack appeared on the wall.


12 AP/8 DC: Immortalise Déjà vu

+2 knowledge: his name will be known throughout the ages, a tale taught to show the consequences of wickedness and the power of heroism.

+2 architecture: When he lays dormant he will become an unbreakable statue but as soon as he is needed he will awaken.

+2 Heroism(Déjà Vu): his sense of justice will burn bright throughout history showing evil isn't safe no matter what time in history.

+1 writing: The messages he leaves behind are as eternal as he is. Immune to ravages of time.

______________

The Ebon Basin

King Ostrom and men stood a top of 50 corpses, some of them being their own men others being what looked like to be simple bandits.

One of the soldiers looked at the King “How the hell did a bandit group this big get into the Empire.”

The king looked at one of the corpses of his men. “We need to head back…” The king said as he got back on the carriage.

“But what about the meeting?”

“I have a suspicion that there isn’t a meeting.” The king said as they rode off.

[Demonjazz]

Alatadriel, 20 AP The Capital City of Al-Sinai, The Palace of Imperator Thrang.
The palace was full of hustle and bustle as servants carried extravagant trays of delicatessen meats and imported fruits, closely followed by servers carrying buckets full of expensive wines, and kegs of ale. Tables carefully covered in carefully woven linens from the Ahorca, and silverware made by the finest smiths of The Twin Furnances. Roast pig, stuffed pheasant, honeyed pastries, and scrumptious chocolates. As minstrels played soft, soothing music to the babbling song of the fondue fountain. An absolutely decadent and over the top feast awaited in the halls of The Palace. Outside, awaited every important noble, mercenary, path follower, priest, mage, smith, and even an assortment of peasants that could present a gift of suitable respect to the goddess. All of the gods were invited to celebrate the birth of a new demigod into the world... Except for Yir. No one could figure out how to send a letter to the sun.

Alatadriel sat atop a balcony overlooking the gate, Magus sitting slightly to the right of Alatadriel holding their baby girl in her hands as Alatadriel looked down to a pocket watch in her hands. "You know, I don't see any reason, that we have to start it at a specific time?" Magus said. "Shouldn't our days be based around the sun instead of some arbitrary time that we placed on the day?"

"It's a new system that I'm trying. I think a 24 hour day is really going to catch on in the next age?

"The next age? Geez, I didn't know things took so long to catch on." Magus looked over to the clock in her hand. "So, how do you make the little spokes go around anyway?"

"So..." Alatadriel thought for a moment "This is probably why it's going to take so long to catch on. But, more or less.... Eh, it'd just be easier if I showed you." She opened up the watch case. "So, it's like a collection of wheels, but they interlock with each other. And if you set them up just right, you can turn one wheel, and that wheel will time up just right with the 24 hour day."

Magus looked impressed as the small gears continued to slowly turn together all at once. "Oh, is that what you're doing when you go back to that forge of yours? I didn't know you could make something so uniform, and small. How do you hammer out the really small ones?"

"Oh, I've just been using a really small hammer and a really small file... Oh, I kind of forgot that humans can't really do that type of precision with their hands. It will probably take a lot longer than I thought... Maybe I should make some sort of machine to do that for humans?" Alatadriel quickly brought out a papyrus scroll and pen. Drawing hastily on the sheet. "Some sort of bladed instrument perhaps... No, you'd need more than that. Maybe we could take a bladed extrusion, and have some sort of pressing mechanism. A bit like pressing clay into shape... Oh, but to create the gears we'd need uniformity in the metal. Like a parchment of metal, but how would I be able to do that?"

"dear, this is all very important. But I think you missed your cue." Alatadriel paused for a second, looking towards her wife. "You're sure you want to be here? I know you don't really like parties, but it is customary we greet our gue-"
Magus waved away her concerns. "It's... Definitely daunting. But the attention can be nice, I'll need to get used to this kind of stuff anyway with my celebrity, and everyone has to meet darling little Rosey and plus," Magus weaved her hand into Alatadriel's "I'll have you by my side. So everything will be good."
Alatadriel planted a kiss on Magus's forehead. "There's no place I'd rather be either.

Alatadriel took a look at her watch to realize that opening it stopped the hands from moving. "Drats, you're... Probably right." Alatadriel motioned downward as the guards dropped the bridge to the palace. Large swathes of men and women moving, encouraged by guardsmen as the gods and their entourages made their way into the castle. Nobles and priests familiar with tradition and decorum lead the crowd into kneeling down to one knee as these impressive beings walked into the castle. Many people praying, nobles particularly were making shows of their piety. Some bowing their heads into the mud and dirt below to show their fragility before the gods.
After the citizenry patiently waited for the present gods to enter into the castles, they stood back up, but guardsmen still held back the mass as the nobles were escorted into the castle, presenting themselves before any of the more base citizenry was allowed to enter.
18 AP/14 DC: create a Demigod-Rosalin Ravenhold +2 Willfulness.
Little Rosalin 'Rosey' Ravenhold just turned ten days old today, and as is customary in The Empire. A celebration is called introducing for introducing the mother back into their normal lives as months of seclusion (Other than family members) are typical tradition before the birth. Believed to be good for the health of the mother and baby.
Due to her divine blood though Rosey is a bit different than other children
+2 Foxes. Rosey inherited her mother's fox-like features. Bearing three white tails, and a pair of fox ears along with a keen sense of smell and hearing. Though not the same sharp facial features of Nerasuss.
+2 Fire. Fire runs deep within the blood Alatadriel and so does it too with the child leading her to have a more aggressive, and fiery personality. Rosey will one day grow up to be defiant, stubborn, maltempered, ambitious, and blunt.

[Godzillarich]

The front door of the Temple swung wide open, the mighty bone God Grawissen walked in. The entire party stopped almost on a dime as everyone turned to look at him, some of them backing away slowly others pulling out weapons. Graw surveyed the place as he walked in " I mean no harm... I am just here to celebrate... the new life..."

The spirit of déjà vu then appeared above one of the handmaidens next to the baby Rosalin. "What a cute baby." Déjà vu smiled. "I feel like we will be good frien..." The handmade and then suddenly backed away from the baby pulling déjà vu along with them.

"Get out of me you demon of the bone God" the maiden yelled

Graw looked in frustration "Déjà vu... it would be wise to mine people's personal space... Leave that woman at once."

"Sorry G, got a little bit excited to see the baby." Déjà vu mumbled before leaving the lady's body.

Graw then looked at Alatadriel "In case you're wondering... I'm still immensely angry at you... but I know this child has nothing to do with your pettiness... he walked next to the child, "If you want some good news with my arrival... Déjà Vu has taken care of large bandit force near your empire's borders... Hopefully, they will not be a problem for the Empire or the Crows ever again..." Graw looked over the baby, "now allow me to give you my gift."


+ 2 Knowledge: this Rosalin will grow up to be a mighty philosopher. people come far and wide to hear their wisdom.
+ 2 Architecture(pickax): Graw will build the kid a beautiful palace mightier than any other palace on earth.
+ 2 Mining: the mountains around her birth will gain a new material, burn rock, an environmentally friendly and efficient fuel source for fires.
+ 2 Heroism(Déjà Vu): The kid will have a sense of duty and obligation to protect all those in the Empire, whether they be Human, Neanderthal, Orcs, Pygmies, Giant, Tongues, Terrors or any other race she will protect their freedoms and rights and will be seen as equal for her protection

[Batcathat]

Ymon-Thal, 14/50 AP, the Passing

Such an odd feeling.

Sitting next to the River of Purity, Thal-Verys watched her own reflection in the running water. At least she looked the same, if you ignored shimmering cloak draped over most of her body and the tiny sun hovering just over her shoulder, its light barely visible beneath layers of cloth and leather. Not to mention that the eyes meeting her gaze were like full moons, pale and glowing.

No, maybe she didn't look very much the same, Thal-Verys reconsidered. But she could get used to that, would get used to that. She was less sure she would get used to how she felt inside.

She still remembered everything about her life, probably with greater clarity than ever, but it didn't really feel like her life anymore. Her childhood, her loved ones, even her journey to the Stonethroe Mountains and great Nestellbam speaking through her... felt like it had happened to someone else. As the connection to that life — her life — faded it had been replaced by a connection to souls flowing around her, as easy to reach out and touch as the water flowing before her.

Whoever Verys of the Aeons had been, she had died of a spear in the Stonethroe Mountains. Time would tell who Thal-Verys of the Passing would turn out to be. The chain binding Alatadriel's gift to her rattled as Thal-Verys stood up, gripping her staff and book.

"Are you ready?"

As she turned around she saw Ymon leaning against a tree she was certain hadn't been there before.

"Yes." Her voice was different too, she noticed. "I am ready."

"Good", Thal said, appearing next to Ymon. "Time to go."

[Maryring]

The Island of Sanctuary

The birth of justice

It began as a night like any other. The terrors of Sanctuary with enough wit to not succumb to their bloodlust were taking their third daily bath in the Moonpool under the watchful eyes of Tua and Na'omi. The waters, it were found, had a soothing effect on their bloodlust. These ritual baths were done, not just for the purifying effect of water, but also as a way to pay respect to the great One themselves.

Unfortunately, the job of watching scaly lizards bathe is also a very boring one. The two transmuters are barely paying attention to the terrors, and are instead passing their time by playing a game of white and black stones upon the ground of their small booth. They are so intent on their game that they fail to notice the approach of wild beasts until an otter barges through their playing field and down to the edge of the moon pool where it sits patiently. The two youths sit up in surprise, looking first at the otter, and then at the many, many other beasts approaching the water's edge. "Tua?"

"Yeah, I see it too. Look at all the animals." Elephants, hyenas, wild cats, boars, even rodents all drift to the moon pool to linger at the edge of water. They ignore the two pygmies completely, and even the terrors receive no more than a cursory glance for as long as they remain observing. "What's goin' on?"

"Shh... can you feel it?" A thrill travelling up and down their spines. Faint but present. Lifting their arms up into the pale moonlight they can see that the hair on their arms stands on end, as if the air was bitter cold. "What's going on."

"I don't know, but it's something big. You keep observing. I'm gonna go warn the Masters."

"Please hurry." Na'omi watches her brother run off, barely avoiding stepping on a family of hedgehogs that come lumbering towards the water's edge. All around the lake, as far as the eye can see, animals line the edge of the water. Birds roost in the trees, fish skim the water surface. And Na'omi herself feels a strange pull. Despite her fears and the sensation that the whole scene is unnatural, she can't help but walk closer to the edge of the water. She takes care to not step upon any of the many beasts, and when she finally reaches the water's edge she reaches a hand out to touch the water.

The water surges. The animals cry out in delight. Lake and moonlight swirl before Na'omi's eyes. Twist and coalesce, forming the pristinely clear form of The Great One, Petr of the Waters. They stand tall, at least thrice as tall as Na'omi herself. The body is water of the moonpool, their whole form is filled with pinpricks of brilliant light, and in their arms they are carrying a bundle of something wrapped in rainbow cloth.

"Hrm?" Petr looks about themselves, then down at Na'omi. The pygmy shivers as she feels the divine gaze fall upon her, and she throws herself down on her knees, planting her face where water brushes against wet sand.

"My Lord and Lady!" She cries out, her whole body shivering in fear and anticipation both. "Blessed am I to bathe in your presence. Please forgive me my insolence!"

"Insol... sweet child." The gentle voice gives a soft, pearl-like laugh as the god kneels down, gently tipping Na'omi's head up so that their eyes can meet. "Why would I consider you insolent? You actually came here to welcome my child. Honestly, if anyone is insolent, it's the rest of the island for not taking the time to come welcome my son."

Na'omi swallows softly, standing up as the firm grip of the god guides her upwards. "S... sorry. Your... child?"

"Oh yes." Petr lightly twists on the bundle of rainbow cloth. A light shift to reveal the sleeping form of Nerassus. Wrapped in the bundle, the only thing Na'omi can make out is the face. It's... decidedly not pygmy. It's covered in a layer of thin blue fur. His face has the sharp, angular features of a fox, only slightly softened into a more square muzzle. Two triangular ears poke out at the top of his head, and around the corner of his eyes are small red markings that look vaguely like doorways shaped from fire. On his forehead, part of the blue yields to form a brilliant white-yellow sun that almost seems like it glows in the dark night. "Isn't he precious?"

"This is your child?!" Na'omi leans forward. She lifts one hand up, stops herself to look up at Petr, and when the god nods slightly, she reaches forward to brush a hand across his form. "He's very big... and he doesn't look like you very much... ah, I mean no disrespect!"

Petr laughs heartily. "Please dear, don't be afraid of me. The ocean may be fickle, but I am never cruel. And yes. His great size is a gift from Yir, and the looks... well, that is Alatadriel's result." Petr looks up at the assembly of animals. "The presence of these ones, that is the blessing of Avestra. The blanket he's wrapped in, that's a gift from Timorin. He is truly a blessed child."

"And you brought him here to introduce to us?"

"Well... no. I brought him here to live with you." Na'omi looks up, wide-eyed at the god. "He needs to learn from mortals, for he is something entirely new. Divine power given mortal flesh. And so that he may grow up and become a proper arbiter of justice, he needs to experience just what it is like to live a mortal life. He shall live, bleed, hunger and thirst among mortals. He shall feel your burdens and suffer them so that he may learn."

Na'omi withdraws her hand with a thoughtful frown. "You... you are confident enough in us to care for, nurture and raise your child?"

"Well of course. Do you think I shouldn't be?"

"Well... no." Na'omi watches as Petr lowers the baby down onto the sand, where a business of ferrets all crawl over to snuggle and support the sleeping form. "It's just a surprise is all. To hear that you hold such trust in us. I... oh I feel like I'm only saying the wrong thing."

"Fear not child." Petr gives Nerassus's face one last gentle brush, before the watery form begins to dissolve. "You are in capable hands. Know that I'll be watching over you."

The form fades back into the moonpool itself, the light and presence is gone. Even the thrill that brushed over Na'omi's back. Only Nerassus remains, with the many animals circling him, stepping close to rub against his form before stepping away again. The constant grinding upon the little baby's form eventually wake him up, and he begins to cry. Just as Tao appears with several of the Masters in tow.

---

The Castle of Masters

"I've finally got him to sleep." P'ua walks out of the bedroom with a disheveled look on his face. His hair is all muzzed up and his eyes having narrow lines from a lack of sleep. He walks over to a nearby pile of grass pillow and flumps heavily into the somewhat soft bedding. "I didn't even know we had that many different kinds of squirrels on the island."

"I hear ya." Kalepo is holding a piece of ice against his face, though he pulls it away to show off the deep purple mark around one of his eyes to P\ua. "How's my face look."

"Awful. What happened?"

"Well, you know how we've been trying to get him to eat solids? I put some fish on his plate and tried to get him to eat it. He absolutely refused and threw the whole thing right in my face."

"I guess we should be glad we're not giving him coconuts."

---

"Can you say "mama"?" Misty holds an idol of Petra before Nerassus. A carving in clay, painted in blues and yellows, wearing the benevolent smile of the Ocean Goddess.

"Ama?" Nerassus grins brightly. Already taller than all around him, but still with a mind born from mortality. "Ama." He reaches for the carving.

"No no." Misty pulls the carving away and tsks softly. "Say Mama. Properly this time."

The large demigod frowns, pounding his fists hard into the ground, making Misty's legs quiver a bit as the ground shakes. "Ama! Giff Ama!"

"Not until you say it right. Mama." Misty stands her ground, narrowly gazing up at the demigod. "Ma. Ma."

"Mama!" Nerassus growls in anger. "Giff Mama! Giff Mama!"

Misty grins and throws a piece of dried mango into Nerassus's maw. The large demigod coughs and gags as the food falls into his throat, almost choking him before he finally gets it down the right whole. "See, was that so hard? Now can you say "Aunt Misty?""

"AMA!"

"We have a long way to go still..."

---

"Okay students. I hope you've been practicing your water conjuration, as we're going to need a lot of it." P'ua sizes up the four young aquamancers sitting on the floor before him, each a sorcerer who has shown surprising aptitude within the school of water, and have thus been given a chance to study beneath the most prestigious Master of Aquamancy in probably the whole world. "Now, usually this task would fall to Misty, Dew'eyera's daughter. Unfortunately, she was hit even worse by the accident, and has had to take a day off to recover."

"Accident?" One of the students, a red-haired neanderthal of about seventeen years quirks his head curiously. "Are we to practice healing spells Master?"

"Alas, no." P'ua picks up four small yellow blocks. A mix of congealed coconut oil, potash and some flower petals for the scent. "You will need this."

"Soap?"

"Indeed." P'ua opens a door to a small chamber, where Nerassus is sitting still on the floor, his entire frame completely caked in mud, dirt, slime and a massive mix of decaying plant matter. "Get to work kids. I want him smelling like a flower before I consider us done!"

"No. Nerassus. You can't wear this." Nani gently put firmly tugs the rainbow cloak from Nerassus, throwing it aside while sternly wagging her finger. "This is a celebration of your parent. You have to dress properly."

"No! Is mine!" Nerassus grabs for the cloak, and it takes Nani all the effort she can muster to keep the oversized child from toddling over to pick the cloak up. "NOOOOO! CAP! MY CAP!"

"Nerassus." The demigod shrieks, it's a loud, petulant cry. "Nerassus!" Nani grabs the boy firmly. Her fingers dig into his flesh with enough force that he visibly winces. "What would your parent say if they saw you now? How sad wouldn't they be to hear that their kid can't even bother to honour her.

"Buh." Nerassus sniffles. "Cap."

"Nerassus. You can play as much as you want afterwards. Come."

Unfortunately, Nerassus refuses to move. He is large, heavy, and Nani has to get several guards to help force him down to the garden. When they arrive, the ceremony has already begun. One of the island priests stand before a congregation of people. Men, women, young and old alike. The priest is wearing a robe. A dirty thing made from dried and stitched together seaweed. Everyone else is wearing even less. Mostly just simple skirts to cover up their waists.

The priest is talking about benevolence. Of the duty the strong has to care for the weak. About how the group as a whole is stronger than any individual. About the bountiful blessings of the ocean. And Nerassus doesn't care a lick for any of his words. He has grabbed himself a twig and some stones and is happily playing way in the back of the congregation, pretending that he is building a house, or maybe a person, or maybe an island. The construction changing with every passing whim. He's so enthralled in his work that when the congregation suddenly stands up all around him he ends up crying from surprise. He starts to wail loudly, and Nani steps up to him to gently hug him close, hiding his face in her chest while gently brushing over his ears. "Shh... shh. Don't cry. It's okay. You're safe. There's nothing scary."

Nera sniffles softly, hugging tight on Nani. Some of the crowd glance back at the demigod, but no one comments on the scene. Through Nani's long dark hair, Nera watches as the crowd splits into couples. Man and woman as best they can, though two pairs are women only, and the priest has no partner at all. He walks through the crowd, guiding people through the steps of the dance. The soft sway of arms, like the waves of the ocean. Hands cupped together and spreading out like flower buds in bloom. Man and woman embracing to represent the divine one-ness that is Petr.

Such symbolism completely flies over Nera's head. To him it's just a whole bunch of strangers bouncing about in his garden, being all scary and loud and he doesn't like it. Not in the slightest!


It's a bright and warm summer day. The sky is a brilliant blue that rivals the ocean. The sand has baked in the sun to the point of being oh so pleasantly warm to step on, and young Nera's fur is stained from a long morning playing in the sand with the other children. They have built sandcastles for crabs. A village full of sand people. And even a church with several marvelous flags of sticks and seaweed. It has been hours, but it only felt like minutes. Nowhere near enough time. And yet here P'ua is. The old aquamancer smiling gently as he plants a hand on Nerassus's shoulder. "Child, it's time for you to say goodbye to your friends."

"But P'uuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuua." Nera whines loudly, poking one of the crabs waltzing about it's castle. "We hafta make mr Shelly's castle. An... an Nutters needs his house, an, an what about ms Dove?"

P'ua reaches down to gently wave the squirrel, bird, and other animals away, making Nera whine as they scamper away. "Nera. They will be here to play later, but right now it is important that you begin to learn. You're the son of a god. And I won't." He pauses, taking a deep breath as he shakes his head. "Nevermind. Nerassus. Look at this." P'ua reaches out towards the ocean. He makes a gentle, grasping motion and in so doing he pulls a stream of water out of the ocean. He spins his fingers, making the water dance before him before forming it into a small copy of himself.

"Is P'ua!" Nerassus claps his hands together, giggling happily. He reaches in to poke the small water copy, blinking as the water maintains it's shape as it flows around his thick finger.

"It's the "Control Water" spell. It's perhaps the simplest expression of aquamancy. And though you're not aware of it, you're actually making a good example of what you must understand to control water."

"Hee! WaterP'ua face looks silly!"

P'ua exhales deeply, shaking his head. "Yes yes. Very silly. But see how the water flows around your finger to maintain it's shape. You're disturbing the water, but always as you move your finger, the water adjusts itself to maintain it's shape. And that is the core of aquamancy. Flexibility."

"F... F... fle... shibiltu?"

"Close." P'ua gently brushes a hand across the back of Nerassus's head. "Water is one of the most flexible things in the whole world. It can be as hard as steel, or it can be as light and ephemeral as air. It flows to fill any crack it can reach. It's easy to manipulate. A lot of aquamancers thus begin their path by imposing their will on water. Commanding it. Demanding how it should act, how it should flow. Where it goes and what it does. And to a point, it works. They trudge along, playing in their ponds."

Nerassus claps his hands around the small water sculpture, laughing as the water splashes all about them before rapidly reforming again. "Splash!"

"Indeed. They make simple splashes, thinking that throwing a rock in a pond is controlling the pond. It is not. For a true master does not command water. He allows water to command him, to read it's flows, it's movements. He works with water, not against it." With a gesture the small water sprite jumps back into the water, melting into the ocean. Nera stands up to run after, but finds his feet suddenly frozen to the ground. The stinging chill making him yelp.

"Wah. Cold!"

P'ua doesn't answer. He steps up besides Nera, gently holding his shoulder with one hand. The other reaches out towards the ocean. He tugs lightly towards him, then relaxes, repeating the motion. And as he does the water reaches further and further up on the beach. The tug of the undertow rushes strong around their feet as the ocean withdraws further away than Nerassus has ever seen before. And then it all comes rushing back towards him at incredible speeds. He cries out, shielding his eyes and digging his head into P'ua. But the aquamancy Master lifts two fingers to the approaching wave and splits them, creating a tiny crack that breaks the wave in two. The water crashes heavily on either side of them in churning eddies of foamy white, washing the beach clear of structures. "And that..." P'ua gently lifts Nera's head up to look at the cleared beach. "Is the power of a Master Aquamancer."

"Nooo. Shelley's castle!"

"Hey, pst. Nerassus?!" Nani's voice rings in the sleeping form's ears. The young demigod yawns and rolls over, opening his eyes to look at the master diviner. She has slipped into a large robe to protect against the chill of the night. "Wanna see something cool?"

"Mlem." He sits up, yawning and clutching a small cloth doll against his chest, created in the image of Petr. The rainbow cape has been formed into a one piece suit that covers his whole form, leaving only his hands and head exposed. "Nani?" He clutches the plush tight to his chest.

"Quick. Come with me." She tugs on Nerassus's hands, pulling the demigod with her to the very top of the castle where she has her observation chamber. The night sky is full of stars, but what Nani points to specifically is a large comet whose tail is blazing across the sky. "Look. See there?"

"Oooh! Pretty!"

"Very." Nani smiles and gestures to the stars, pointing out two that the comet seems to be passing between. "Those two stars are named Deneb and Canopus. When you perform Astrology, Deneb is a star of love, and Canopus is a star of war. The comet is a sign of fortune. Meaning that those who can observe and understand these signs can expect good fortune in both their lovelife and any fights they might get into.

Nera clutches his doll close to his chest, rocking back and forth as he watches the comet. "Maybe momma will come visit?"

Nani smiles gently, hugging Nera from behind. "You miss her?"

"Uhuh. You do future sighting? Do you know when momma will come visit?"

Nani leans back, frowning as she gazes up at the sky along with Nerassus. "I can try." She breathes in deeply, her gaze flickering from star to star, whispering words quietly to herself that Nerassus can't make out. The process takes a good five minutes, before Nani exhales, as if she's been holding her breath all this time. "I'm sorry. I can't tell you when she returns."

"No! You see the future. You have to know!"

"Nera dear. That's not quite how it works." She rubs her chin thoughtfully. "You remember during your birthday? The play? You asked me if I knew how it ended?"

"Yeah. That was fun!"

"It sure was. But, think of the whole world as that play. I saw the play unfold just like you did. I didn't "see into the future" to see what would happen."

"What? But you said that the Wicked Queen would stumble and fall, and she did!"

Nani nods and gestures for Nera to look at the ground beneath them. "And if you were to stand up and walk over into the darkness there, I could say that you'd stumble and fall. Not because I see the future, but because I know there's an uneven part of the floor there that you'll stumble on." Nerassus looks up at Nani, his face a question mark of utter confusion. "The strongest predictor of the future isn't like seeing a different part of the play. It is in seeing, and knowing, all the current parts of the play, knowing how those pieces will move, and what the consequences of that will be."

"Uh..."

"It's okay if you don't understand. You're young, and many of my students still struggle to comprehend the idea. But in the simplest terms I can think of..." Nani rubs her chin, licks her lips as she searches for the words. "The future is what the present creates. If you throw a stone, you can predict that it will fall to the ground. The more you know, the more you can tell what will happen. And that's what astrology is. Asking the stars what they know, what they see, and what they predict. They see and understand far more than what us mortals can do." Nani gives Nera another gentle squeeze. "Unfortunately, even the stars can not well predict what the gods will do."

"The school of the warrior is the school of change and adaptiveness!" Tao straightens his back as he sizes up Nerassus. The young but still giant demigod has been given a wooden practice sword, which looks more like a toothpick with how he holds it between two fingers. Nerassus uses the sword to make a playful salute.

"Sir. Yes sir." Before breaking down into fits of giggles.

"It's a branch of magic entirely about change." Tao continues, trying to ignore the childish tittering. "For example. By channeling mana into your skin you can give it all sorts of properties. You can make it strong as wood, stone, or even steel. You can make your limbs longer or stronger. It is all about understanding your own body, and how a direct infusion of mana can change it. You understand what mana is yes?"

"Uhu. Uhu." Nerassus starts to snicker loudly into his own arm.

"Good. Now, mana is something your body naturally regenerates and it is the energy with which we use to cast spells. You've probably felt how after casting enough spells you begin to feel weak and-" Nerassus snorts loudly again, barely restraining his laughter. "Okay, seriously. What is it that you find so amusing?"

"Hehe. It's... it's just... you're a sir!" Nerassus sniggers loudly. "Y... you know? Like a tree?!"

"That's a fir..."

"Nerassus?!" Dew'eyera looks about at the dark, ancient caverns that have been at the top of the mountain since long before he was born. A cold, bitter wind blows through the ruined chambers, carrying what sounds like the rumbling laugh of the demigod from deep within. "Nerassus! Where are you?! It's time for your necromancy lessons!" He walks deeper into the cave, unaware that behind and above, hidden in a crack among the dusty ruins are both Nera and Misty.

"Heh. Look at my father go." Misty whispers, playfully nudging Nera.

"He can't see us, because we're right behind him but he doesn't know to look behind himself." Nera grins. His own voice is louder, but luckily not loud enough to catch Dew's attention.

"Shh. We don't want him to find us." Misty glances down one last time, before beckoning to Nerassus. "Okay, coast is clear. This way."

Misty walks over to one of the ancient reliefs. She digs her fingers into a narrow crack behind it and slowly tugs it open. Stone scrapes against stone as the relief reveals a secret chamber behind itself. The two walk in to reveal a den of treasure, lit up by a single blue magicite lamp. In one corner of the room are several small clay pots, in which various fungi grow. Peculiar artifacts, from mundane but exotic metalworking tools, to peculiar designs old as the ruins themselves. There's a small table on which rests eight different skulls. A male and a female specimen of giant, human, neanderthal and pygmy. And on the center of the table is a ery peculiar device which immediately grabs Nera's attention.

"What's this?" Nera reaches out to touch the device, but Misty quickly snatches it from his grip.

"Careful. This here is a special gift from the gods. Well, one of them. But divine nonetheless." She grins, putting the device back on the table. "You shouldn't touch it. It'll take you to a very strange place. I use it when I need some really cool ruins to meditate in."

"C'mon. Please. I promise I'll be careful!"

"No. Maybe when you're older."

"Aww." Nerassus slumps down, crossing his arms with a pout. "So what are we doing here?"

"Taking a break. This is my secret spot. Father doesn't know about it, so if you ever need to just... hide away from the world, this is the place to go."

"I'll be honest with you Nerassus, but you have to be the most difficult student I've taught." The archdruid rubs his chin thoughtfully as he sighs heavily.

"I'm sorry." Nerassus's voice is a soft whimper of a whisper as he hangs his head in shame. In his arms he is clutching a painted dog. Resting in his lap is a sleeping Lynx, there's a rodent resting on his shoulder, and a squirrel is muzzing up the fur on his head. "I'll try to do better."

"That's not the problem. The problem is that you're just too good at this. Honestly, it's hard for me to think of what more I can teach you!"

"Close your eyes child." The Master of Whispers stare intently at Nerassus. She has placed the demigod beneath the tallest tree in the bird sanctuary. A mighty oak planted when Sanctuary was still landlocked. It's roots dig deep, it's branches stretch tall, and the trunk is thicker around than even a giant can hug. And it's a finicky spirit. Even the Master of Whispers occasionally struggle to understand it's wisdom. "Meditate. Let your mind empty. Focus only on your breath, until that too disappears from your thoughts. Deafen yourself to the world. Only when there is absolute silence will you hear the forest. Sit here until the words reach you. Only when you hear the whisper of the wood shall you come seek me out."

"Understood Master." The young five-year old breathes deeply. The smell of loam and pollen fills his nose. The drip of a small waterfall rushes somewhere behind him. Birds flit in the sky. All these sounds he tries to block out. Even the footsteps of his Master as he leaves. All is still, and all is silent.

---

Late that night, in the Castle of Masters, the sound of crackling fire fills one of the main halls. Outside the sound of wind howls and pounds of the wall. And occasionally there's a loud crack of thunder. Dew shudders softly as he curls himself up tighter before the fireplace, wrapping a blanket of wool tighter around his form. "Ha... what a storm. It's nights like that I'm happy I can live in a god-built castle."

"I hear ya." P'ua smiles as he carves over blocks of ice using nothing but magic. He creates small statues that he enchants to resist melting, placing them out on the table before him. "You ready for tonight's wargame? Tao said he's been working on a new strategy that will, in his words, "trounce us so badly we'll hide our face in shame." So I'm thinking we're looking at another aggressive early blitz."

"Maybe we should ask Nera to join in tonight? I think he's old enough to participate. Or at least not eat the game pieces." Dew grins as he steps over to the table, picking up a piece to look it over. "You've gotten pretty good."

"Thanks. Go fetch Nera? If he falls asleep while we play, we can just all pitch in and carry him to bed."

"Got it." Dew wanders off, returning a few minutes later with a frown on his face. "Hey, do you know where he is? I didn't find him in his room."

"Hrm. I think he was supposed to have his first lesson in Treewhispering today..." P'ua's face suddenly goes pale as he glances out at the storm. "You don't think..."

---

Fifteen minutes later, P'ua, Dew'eyera and Master of Whispers, Ozu, all rush down the slippery, dark path to the bird sanctuary. The rain above comes pouring down in thick sheets. After only a few seconds outside they're all drenched to the bone. The winds howl loud enough that they can barely hear one another, and their vision is so poor, they can barely make out the ground three steps ahead. If it weren't for Ozu's familiarity with their surroundings, they would have never found their way.

But they do. They find the massive oak, and circling around it they find Nerassus, still in a kneeling position. P'ua rushes forward to clutch his form, which causes the young boy's eyes to shoot open. He looks from P'ua to Ozu, and slowly opens his almost frozen mouth. "S... s... s.. sor-rry Ma... Mas... ster Ozu. I c... c.. c couln...dn't. he...hear an... anything."

"A lot of people think that necromancy is the manipulation of bodies and of death. It is not. It is the manipulation of souls, and the balance between life and death." Dew'eyera thrusts his chest outwards as he nods over the corpse between himself and Nerassus and Misty. "The soul is the core of the living experience. It is what separates us from this." He gestures to the lifeless body.

"But... how am I gonna learn how to manipulate souls if there's no soul here to manipulate?"

"You're not." Dew'eyera whips out a scalpel and grins. "First I'm going to teach you about anatomy, and how the body and it's physiology works. Misty, help him guide his scalpel. Now, we begin by making a small cut here..."

Nerassus growls loudly as he brings the axe down upon the wood. Sweat pours from his brow to soak his chest, and his breathing is heavy from labour as the six year old looks from the pile of wood he has chopped, to the still much larger pile of unchopped wood. "Nghn. Master Kalepo. Haven't I chopped enough wood now?"

Kalepo looks up from the grassy field he's lying upon, glancing over the two piles before sinking down again. "You still have plenty wood left to chop don't you? Why is it taking you so long? You're bigger and probably stronger and me. But I'd be done already."

"That's unfair!" Nera pouts, crossing his arms as he stamps his feet hard. "How am I supposed to learn anything from this?!"

Kalepo sighs dramatically as he stands up. "You're really not getting it huh? What's your problem?"

"My problem is you aren't teaching me anything!" Nerassus howls angrily.

"Oh really? So it's not that... say, your tool is bad?"

"It's the tool you gave me!"

"And why haven't you made it better?"

"I... I don't know how?"

"Didn't stop the first enchanters." Kalepo takes the axe and makes a simple pass with his hand over the head. A small field of purplish energy briefly flickers to life. Tightening his grip, Kalepo swings the axe down on a nearby log, cleaving it in two with one smooth, easy strike. "Piece of cake." He hands the axe back to Nerassus, smirking. "So what have you learned?"

"Uh..." Nerassus scratches his head curiously, seeking for an answer.

"You've learned that a good tool makes the job go by much faster. So make yourself a better tool yeah?"

"I guess..." Nera exhales deeply. "I'll try to figure it out. You're really smart Kalepo."

With a cheeky grin and a knowing look at the stack of wood that Nerassus fails to comprehend, Kalepo responds with a cheeky "The smartest."

Okeyani barely acknowledges Nerassus's presence as the demigod makes his way up to the top of the castle's observation spire. An earthenware bowl filled with stones rests on a table in the center of the room. "You're late."

"I am?" Nerassus looks down, lowering his head in shame. "I'm sorry. I came here as quickly as I could."

"That is an excuse young man. And in solar sorcery, there is no room for excuses." Okeyani takes a step towards Nerassus, then another. Her feet climb the air as if she was walking up an invisible staircase,allowing her to look down on Nerassus. "Solar Sorcery can not be performed by the weak of will or the sloppy. It is will, grace, desire... perfection." She looks over Nerassus and gestures to the ground. "Take a seat."

Without really thinking, Nerassus does as instructed, settling on the floor and allowing Okeyani to cease her flight and still look down on the young demigod. "And you're gonna teach me that?"

"No. Because perfection isn't something to be taught. It is something you claim through your own hard work and dedication. What I will teach you is how, through solar sorcery, you tell the world that it is not perfect. That it should be different. That it should be how you desire."

"What do you mean?"

Okeyani picks up one of the stones from the earthenware bowl and holds it before Nerassus. "What is this child?"

"It's a stone?"

"No. It's an apple." Okeyani lifts the rock up before her, except it is now covered in a deep crimson skin, and it has a faintly sweet smell.

"Huh. But...whoa no way. That was a rock. I saw it!"

Okeyani brings the fruit to her mouth. She bites in deeply, tearing of a chunk of the fruit which she chews and swallows, before licking the fruit juice from around her lips. "Pretty tasty for a rock."

"That's so cool!"

Okeyani permits herself a slight smile before she grabs another rock, passing it to Nerassus. "Now you try."

"Okay... okay." He clenches his fist tight around the rock, obscuring it from view for a moment. "This is an apple, this is an apple."

"What is?!"

"This rock?"

"Is a rock?"

"No it's an apple."

"Is it?" Nerassus opens his eyes to look at the object in his palms. It still feels pretty hard, but it now has a nice red colouration on the outside. "Is that an apple Nerassus?"

"Y... yeah. I think so."

"Prove it." Okeyani looks into Nerassus's eyes. Her hands on her hips and her upper body bent slightly forward. Nerassus feels the whole posture intimidating, but he won't tell. Instead he brings the apple to his mouth. Places it between his teeth. And bites down.

*crnch*

"OWWWWWWWWWWWWW!" He howls in pain, holding his jaws as the rock with it's extremely thin layer of skin drops from his hands to the ground. "Oww oww oww oww oww."

"Looks like you've got a long way to go still child."

"There's no doubt about your heirtage Nerassus." P'ua smiles warmly as the demigod finishes creating a ring of ice around a straw dummy. "Even mages who focus only on Aquamancy struggle to reach your level of mastery so quickly. And yet here you are, able to perform the basics of every single school of magic there is."

"Thank you." Nerassus beams with pride down at his teacher. "But... actually. I've been meaning to ask. Some people tell me about a ninth school of magic. Fire. And I just... I was curious. Why don't people talk about it? Why isn't there a fire Master? Why haven't any of you taught me about that?"

P'ua exhales softly, shaking his head at the big demigod. "Because... it is a dangerous school. The goddess of Fire, Alatadriel, is a covetuous and jealous god. When Su'ule granted mortalkind the ability to perform magic, Alatadriel grew jealous of mortalkind. She cursed fire, so that whenever it interacts with magic it grows wild and unpredictable, seeking to burn the body and soul of the practicioner. In her greed she took part of magic and sealed it away, hoping to keep true Mastery away from mortalkind."

"Oh..." Nerassus frowns thoughtfully. "Is that why no one can use it?"

"... some can use it. A highly skilled aquamancer can shield his body from the ravages of fire."

"So I could learn it?"

"Why?"

"Hrm?"

"Why do you want to learn fire magic?"

"Because..." Nerassus frowns. "I mean, I'm supposed to eventually guard the island right? That means I need to become a proper Su'Speaker, so that I can be as strong as possible to keep everyone safe."

"And what strength would fire magic give you?"

"I... guess it'd be good for attacking? Maybe?"

P'ua chuckles. A soft, mirthless laugh as he glances over at the dummy. "Offense. The simplest, and least useful form of pyromancy. If you wish to go on the offensive..." He gestures towards the dummy. A thin strand of water shoots out from his fingers. It flows into the dummy's mouth, and a brief moment later P'ua clenches his fist. As he does the dummy bursts apart from the inside as a massive, spiky ice crystal forms within. "Even Aquamancy, the school of healing, can easily kill someone. Destroying someone is oh so easy. You don't need fire to do that."

"Then... then why did you learn it?" Nerassus looks at the ice crystal covered in straw and torn cloth. He feels a little squeamish, but can't bring himself to look away.

"For what fire magic uniquely can bring. Remember your first lesson in Treewhispering? How cold you were when we found you?"

"I do..."

"Back then I used fire magic to warm you up. A layer of heat to wrap gently about you. Water could have healed you if the cold injured you. But the heat allowed us to keep you from getting hurt in the first place. It has also been useful whenever Kalepo has done experiments with metalworking. Those require a lot of heat. Far more than our ovens can produe. And... you touched upon perhaps it's best offensive use without even knowing about it."

"Oh?"

"Fire... is fear. Amongst the people, I am not feared. People know me as a healer. They seek me out for my gentle touch, and protective embrace. But they do not fear me."

"Why should they fear you?"

"Because. Sometimes, in this world, there is violence. Sometimes even here people come and they do not bring kindness or healing. They come to take, to dominate, to destroy. Because they think us aquamancers too weak and soft to defend ourselves. But we can. With frightening accuracy and efficiency, even we can end lives. But I do not want to end lives. And that is why I study pyromancy."

"I'm not sure I understand..."

"As I said, fire is fear. If I were to conjure a globe of water around someone's head, slowly choking the life from them, people would not be as frightened as if I were to lob a ball of raging fiery inferno at their location. The act is just as lethal, but one is much better at inspiring fear than the other."

"So... fear can be a good thing?"

"It can.." P'ua shakes his head with a sad frown. "I'm sorry. I think the subject matter is too heavy for you to understand. Let's... put a pin on things for now. Once you're older and understand what I'm talking about, I will teach you fire magic. But for now... I need you to grow older and wiser. And a lot more skilled in aquamancy."

"Okay... I understand. I think." Nerassus nibbles his lips, wringing his hands thoughtfully. "So, can you instead teach me how to breathe water maybe?"

Nerassus has been dragged by Nani to one of the lower windows of the castle. One that overlooks the courtyard outside. All the other Masters are gathered there, sitting on chairs before a human woman who has been brought before them. Her face has been covered by a hemp bag. Standing beside her is another woman, reciting strange words and phrasings to the Masters. Several other people are gathered behind her. Most look at the obscured woman in disgust. Some with pity.

"Nani..." Nerassus frowns as he leans against the window sill, a strange feeling roaring about in his heart to the point of making him feel nauseous. "I don't understand what is going on there."

"It's a trial." Nani says, her voice uncharacteristically soft. "The woman you hear speak is reciting the crimes she has been accused of. It's... good that you don't understand. The accused has hurt a lot of people. She has hurt a lot of children. Badly."

"Oh. That's bad. Why would she do that?"

"I wish I could tell you. Some people are just... cruel. They think only of themselves, caring not for who gets hurt in the process." Nani looks aside. "Usually I'd be down there as well, but I had to ask to be excused so I could be here and teach you. You need to see this if you're one day going to grow up and lead and protect the island."

"See what?" Nani just stares silently ahead. "Nani? See what?"

"Shh... they're about to render their verdict."

Nerassus looks over the Masters. All eight of them have extended their arms out before them. They look among one another, and then they all extend their thumb up, except for P'ua who extends it down. "Then it is decided." Okeyani's voice carries loud and clear all the way from the courtyard. "For your crimes against the weakest of our society, you are judged to the harshest of our punishments."

"Punishment?" Nerassus looks up at Nani curiously. "Are they going to make her go to bed without supper?"

"No. Nera. What she's done is so much worse than even your worst prank." From the window, Nera watches as Dew stands up and approaches the bound woman. His form starts to flicker with blue, ephemeral flames as he reaches out for the woman.

"Wait... what is he doing? That looks like... that looks like?! Dew? What are you doing?! Nani, what is he doing?!" Nerassus lifts himself up to begin scrabbling out the window. He's too quick and strong for Nani to stop him, and he leaps down three floors to land in the courtyard. His legs hurt, but he shakes off the pain as he staggers towards the gathered people. "Dew! Stop it!" He tries to run towards Dew, but Dew doesn't stop. In fact, P'ua rushes up to Nerassus and holds him back, keeping Nerassus from getting any closer. "P'ua. What are you doing? We have to stop Dew."

"Nera. No. I'm sorry. But there's nothing we can do now."

"What do you mean? Don't you." Nerassus's objections is stopped as a loud, piercing cry escapes the bound woman's lips. Her whole body twitches and spasms, before she flops and falls backwards, dead. Standing over her is Dew, his face dark and cold. In his hands he is clutching a flickering flame of blue. One that he places within a small crystal of magicite hanging around his neck. He turns around to look, briefly, at Nerassus. Nerassus's own eyes are wide. Shock. Betrayal. Hurt. Tears well in the corner of his eyes. Dew can't bear to maintain the look and he turns away from Nerassus. "Dew... what have you done?!"

[gac3]

Cult of the Mad God

On the isle where the covenant with the terrors had been sanctified, the tongues began feeling restless. They feel excluded and paranoid, being the only race on the island not to have shed blood on behalf of their divine god. The other two races grow closer by the day as they serve together under a blood pact. They worry that these barbaric pygmies and violent terrors may turn their murderous rages against them if they do not find a way to be of use and a part of the community. Until one day one of them comes up with a plan, he is going to try on the crown. Odds are he will die but maybe he will be the chosen one. Even if he does die, he will bring his people into the fold. He finds this to be a good, if uncertain plan. What if the pygmies do not see this as a good enough method of joining them? So therefore he waits and contemplates.

The Terrors are adapting quick to the cult, standing guard over the crown and serving as the primary “servants” when someone unworthy puts on the crown. Others perform hunting or guard the perimeter of the island. This has allowed the pigmies to divert more manpower into other projects. The number of followers of the Path of Emotion grow regularly as they work to become more prepared for greeting any who sail out their way. The influx of population has also led to needing to harvest more of the abandoned boats and supplies in order for the communities to build dwellings quickly. Overall, it is a time of growth and change for the cult of the mad god as they incorporate a new aspect to their community.

The Empire:

Timorin has another young child to greet. Babies are cute. They have so much potential for drama. He couldn’t wait for some of the most powerful beings in existence, next to the gods of course, to go through their puberty years. Ah the destruction they ought to cause. He needed a good blessing to bestow upon the fox girl however so he strolled through the city. He came upon a weapons shop and decided he would get her one of them. Inside he picked up a great sword. Then a bow. Then a war axe. Then a spiked chain. Then a quarterstaff. Of course she would need a dagger…. An hour later, Timorin had picked out all of the weapons she would need.

“Here you go little darling,” he said as he piled weapon after weapon in front of her. “You’ll want to get some practice with each of these I suppose. I bet you are great with them. Make sure to always put on a good show so that people will remember you."


+2 war, +2 drama. Timorin gifts Rosie with the ability to master any weapon in a matter of minutes. He also gives her a flair to match her heroism. She will never settle for clean and proper. When she goes about a fight or a quest, she will do so in the flashiest way she can, sacrificing a sure thing for something more dramatic.

[Garjel_blah]

Chern, 22/50 AP, Alatadriel's Wedding

It was only when the guests were taking their seats at the crest of the ocean cliff, bare minutes before the ceremony was set to begin, that a wizened figure in an ill-fitting toga shambled hurriedly onto the scene. Chern adjusted his mask with a thin hand, apologising hoarsely as he side-stepped past the already-seated guests towards his assigned position. He lowered himself with a gasp of exertion, clutching at the small of his back. He then rifled through the folds of his toga, brushing aside dust and stray feathers, and even a stray fang that'd embedded in his thigh.

He'd had to duck away from dealing with the desert raptors to make the wedding, and consequentially hadn't found much time to make himself presentable. Chern couldn't help but feel a bit of chagrin at the sight of Alatadriel and her bride walking down the aisle, even more stunning than usual in her ceremonial attire. She was just as - if not more - responsible for the botched creation of the terrors as Grawissen, but at least he had helped with Chern's aid initiative. Meanwhile here Alatadriel was, making a mockery of mortal rituals with this perverse affect of mundanity. It was irresponsible, megalomaniacal, a frivolous refusal of her own divinity.

Then again, Chern understood the temptation to play at mortality. He'd almost done much the same thing with the Sanctuary necromancer girl who's name he still couldn't recall. While the divine couple recited their vows, Chern couldn't help but think of her briefly.

"Um, excuse me."

Chern looked to the side, where a wealthy Sinalese man was looking at him with impatience.

"Hmm?"

"Sir, are you aware that you smell awful? And I mean, really awful?"

"Hmm..."

Chern tuned out the puny mortal's indignance, watching with a listless gaze as Alatadriel and Magus pontificated on their mutual everlasting love.

---

With the marriage consummated, festivities began atop the dramatic sea cliff. Chern immediately proceeded to the punch bowl, filling himself a goblet and lifting his mask a fraction to take a sip. He swirled the fruity beverage around in his cheeks for a few seconds, then spat it onto the grass, which immediately wilted and died. He used a hip flask from his grimy toga to top up the goblet with a few shots of luminous brown chum.

Maggie broke off from the party for a bit as Alatadriel dances among the fire dancers who had their own seperate area. Dancers weaved between each other's flames as they pounded their feet into the sandy dance pit. The few pairs of dancers who could perform such a dance without tiring themselves went about weaving seamlessly together, ducking beneath flames inches from their heads as their partners dipped them. Others breaking off from each other seconds before fire ignited the tips of their fingers.

"Hey, You're uh..." Magus seemed to be racking her head. "Chern right? I had a friend who met you... Well... 'friend' may be a bit too nice, she was a bit of a bitch. Anyway, how goes... Decaying things?" Maggie looked at the flame dancers as Alatadriel weaved between all the groups, spinning across the pit between the strikes of the flame dancers that dodged each other. Chern turned his yellow eyes on Magus.

"You tell me, mortal, you're the one who's doing it as we speak." Chern took another sip, and smacked his lips. He looked over at the dancers, then back at Magus, a little less intense this time. "Apologies, that was not the sort of comment to make on a day like this. Especially not to the newly-wed. Congratulations, by the way."

Maggie backed up a couple of feet from Chern "Yeeeah." She take a very long sip of punch as she tries to ignore the glowing eyes of Chern as she focused on her wife instead, whose dress was whipping with flames as she danced giving a blissful sigh. "She's even more beautiful when she's happy isn't she?"

"You've certainly found quite the partner, literal goddess and all. Though I can't help but wonder... Does it not bother you? How different you are? She probably knows you better than you know yourself, and you'll never be able to comprehend all of her."

Maggie snorted as she let out a laugh. Choking slightly on her drink.

"Oh, ahaha. " She snorted again. "Oh, that's funny. You really don't know her that well." She stopped to take a drink. "It's a little hard to see past all those layers she puts up, that immaculate facade. I don't even think she sees past it on her bad days to be honest. But... I do. And she's not really all that different from any of the mortals... Also, she still hasn't caught on to the fact that I don't like chocolate. So she doesn't know everything about me."

Chern blinked at the bride, his mask impassively hiding his skepticism.

"Can't argue with that," he said, swirling his drink. He reached into his toga. "Hey, before you go mingle and dance with your love, I wanted to give you something. I understand that you're with child. Here."

Chern handed Magus a small wooden box, bleached to the characteristic paleness of Chern's mask. Inside was an intricate construction of metal and glass, with an fluid-filled chamber at one end and a needle-point at the other.

"It's for the child, when she's born. Careful though, it's sharp."

"Um... Thank you?" Magus looked confused as she held up the strange fluid filled container. Looking at the careful construction made her feel a bit ill, and she put the glass contraption back into the box. Alatadriel seperated herself from the crowd, sweating slightly as she gave shouts of encourangement to others as she walked. She took a long drink from the punch bowl.

She extended her hand to Chern for a shake. "So how're you liking the party, buddy?" The band started to play a slower, but drum heavy beat. "Oh, I know I was just out there, but this is my favorite song!" She looked to Maggie for approval.

Maggie giggled. "Oh, it's fine." Magus pecked Alatadriel on the cheek. "Just save the next dance for me, okay?"

"Hey, you haven't really been dancing all that much Chern. Mind being my partner?"

"It's called a vaccine, I developed the concept for them a while ago but then healing magic became a thing and- come again?" Chern looked from Alatadriel to Magus and back again. "A dance? Uh..."

"Yeah, Chern. That's what you do at parties. Come on," Alatadriel took his hand. "It's not that hard. I'll even lead if you want me too."

Maggie giggled, whispering to Chern. "That's a joke, she always leads."

Chern's eyes widened, his mask impassively hiding the flush that crept into his pallid face, as he was yanked away into the throng of dancers. He had to dodge to the side as a jet of fire narrowly missed igniting his head.

Help Alatadriel create a demigod

+4 Decay as this gift concerns diseases

-2 Downtrodden, because Alatadriel is a fascist

The syringe Chern gave to Magus, if administered to Rosalin, will make her immune to diseases of any kind. It also tangentially grants her and her society with an advanced technology, namely vaccination, though since no one knows what a virus is yet they'll probably end up injecting people with suspensions of crushed up fox genitals or something.

---

Fortified punch spilled across the cushions of the outdoor reclining sofa, as Chern gesticulated with his goblet.

"Look, I don't want to say it. I don't want to be that guy... But we're all thinking it right? Right? You know what I'm talking about, huh?"

The hua-ling sitting perched on the table opposite him met the tipsy god's gaze steadily. Chern leaned in close to vulpine face, ignoring the young student couple making out on the cushions right beside him.

"This Magus mortal is so punching above her weight in this relationship. I mean, I get it. There is an allure in the ephem- ephemal- ephemerality of mortalkind, to be sure. And she's... Well she's not bad looking. She's a type, y'know, I suppose she's Alatadriel's type. But coooome oooon, she's with a goddess! Is everyone just going to ignore that? She used to be a fox for the love of rot! No offence, 'course."

The fox licked its nose in a conciliatory manner.

"But yeah, she could definitely do better. Could make her own perfect lover. Someone who has the same interest in little mechanical inventions as she, perhaps. Or even get with one of the other gods, you know? Sure she's a bit of a pariah with the pantheon community at present, and not without reason. She's a despot, and generally a horrible person to be honest. But she's just so foxy, is she not? Sorry I don't know if that's an okay word to use, is it okay?"

The hua-ling glared.

"Alright, I get it, your word. Hey... Hey... I got to ask. Does Alatadriel... She's the father, right, so does she have a, you know... A thing?"

Chern waggled his finger suggestively. The hua-ling hopped off the table and sauntered away, apparently disgusted. Chern slumped back in the sofa.

"Oh dear..." He glanced reproachfully at the oblivious couple next to him. "I need to find a bathroom."

---

When Chern awoke the next morning, he felt a strange, almost out of body experience. Like he was floating on a light breeze. He opened his eyes - or tried to, instead finding that eyes had lost their meaning for him, that he no longer needed eyes. Chern expanded his consciousness, attempting groggily to grasp his situation.

He was hovering at the beginning of one of the paths to the Passing. Most curious, he thought. He didn't remember dying recently. He turned his perception back down towards the earth, not too far below him yet simultaneously so, so distant. He could just about see it...

His own corpse, lying face down beside the latrines, his flesh being scavenged by a small group of hua-ling. Chern's disembodied divine soul muttered to itself dejectedly.

"Damn it. I need to stop coming to parties."

"You could be onto something there, my friend."

Thal-Verys stood part way up the immaterial path above him, her Book of Souls in one hand and her lantern in the other. Chern looked up at her, his aspect melancholic.

"Working hard I see. The demands of death never cease nor slow."

"Especially when it comes to you Chern. Where do you wish to go? The Passing?"

"No, no. I should return to my raptor oasis. Do some hard work myself."

"Very well. Let me escort you. Let's get you home."

"Thank you, Thal-Verys."

[Godzillarich]

Déjà vu floated away from the party, he could not interact with anyone without scaring the guests so he found no point in staying. besides, he had some business to attend to. He came to a vacant area of the city and looked up to the sky. “Oh great Ymon-Thal, I ask for your assistance, to ease the spirits of the dead.”

Ymon-Thal manifested on either side of the demigod.

"You're new!" Ymon tilted his head as he looked at Déjà vu. "And kinda weird looking."

Thal sighed. "Nevermind him. What do you want?"

Déjà vu look to his side. “I wish to enter the passing… I didn’t make it in time to save some people and their last thoughts were probably assuming the worst for their kids. I ask you to allow me into the passing to tell them their kids are alright.”

"That's nice!"

"And rather meaningless", Thal added. "If these souls are even still in the Passing they likely do not care much for the fate of their children anymore. Mortal concerns pass quickly there."

Ymon-Thal considered the request for a few seconds before Thal spoke again.

"Still, we will grant you your wish as a favour to Grawissen. As long as you obey the rules. The Passing's keeper Thal-Verys will lead you to those you seek, follow her and do not speak to anyone not related to your quest."

Déjà vu bowed to both of them. “Thank you.” A fog enveloped the area revealing the gates of the passing. “Well here goes nothing.” Déjà vu thought to himself as he walked through. “I just hope they’re still there.”

As Déjà Vu entered the Passing he came face to face with its guardian, eyeing him carefully. "Welcome to the Passing, Déjà Vu of Grawissen. I am Thal-Verys."

____________

They wanted the passing for what felt like an eternity, searching every soul. “How Big is this place?” Déjà vu said in annoyance.

Thal-Verys Kept quiet.

“Not much it’s of a talker are you?” déjà vu than sighed as he continued to walk along the path. “Wait!” déjà vu then noticed a group of people standing by a campfire. “Thank you for the help by the way.” Déjà vu said, waving at his guide before running off.

Thal-Verys simply sighed and waved back.

The tribe noticed the massive rhino man running towards them and quickly grabbed their spears.

Déjà vu stopped himself. “Whoa, whoa, hold on! I’m here to bring good news.” The Crow people still held up their spears. “... Your kids are fine…”

They lowered the spears. “How do you know that?” when the tribesmen asked

“I save them along with your tongue visitor.” Déjà vu then sunk his head in shame. “I’..I’m sorry I wasn’t there in time to save you. That is all I wanted to say.” Déjà vu than started to turn around.

“WAIT!” one of the tribesmen yelled out. Déjà vu turned back. “I want you to do one more thing for me.”
______________

The kid’s alone in his hut, it had been a few weeks since he lost his father. The kid barely had the energy to get out of bed. Just then a bird flew into the entrance and landed on the bed next to the kid. It was holding something in his beak. It dropped it in front of the kid and then flew out. “What is this?” the kid thought to himself as he picked up the flute. It was a beautifully crafted flute. There was something written on the side of the flute. One last gift, I love you. The kid simply stared at the flute as tears started to emanate from his eyes.

Déjà vu watched, floating over the kid with the kid unable to see him. “That is all I can do, a gift your father was saving.” then Déjà vu flow to the way with the wind.

[DarthArminius]

18 AP/14 DC: create a Demigod-Rosalin Ravenhold +2 Willfulness.
Little Rosalin 'Rosey' Ravenhold just turned ten days old today, and as is customary in The Empire. A celebration is called introducing for introducing the mother back into their normal lives as months of seclusion (Other than family members) are typical tradition before the birth. Believed to be good for the health of the mother and baby.
Due to her divine blood though Rosey is a bit different than other children
+2 Foxes. Rosey inherited her mother's fox-like features. Bearing three white tails, and a pair of fox ears along with a keen sense of smell and hearing. Though not the same sharp facial features of Nerasuss.
+2 Fire. Fire runs deep within the blood Alatadriel and so does it too with the child leading her to have a more aggressive, and fiery personality. Rosey will one day grow up to be defiant, stubborn, maltempered, ambitious, and blunt.

Su'ule notices from her place in the sky that a new baby demi god has been born, and is now ten days old. Su'ule would smile if she had lips.
Well, she only wanted to help the little demi goddess and she appeared in the sky above the baby's location. . . Su'ule blessed the baby with a very powerful spell.


+2 Monsters , the baby Rosey Ravenhold had the ability to command any beast that could be classified as monstrous. This might be more difficult though, the stronger and more powerful a monster gets.
+2 Sorcery, the baby Rosey had the ability to scream like Su'ule, causing massive devastation, like one of the uncreated banshee, or learn any kind of Su' sorcery much more easily than any mortal.
+1 Birth, Rosey had the gift of painless child birth.
- 2 Willfulness , Su'ule didn't mean to do anything wrong or make Rosey overly rebellious, but as was already happening according to the meddling of herself and other deities, Rosey's attitude towards tyranny and overbearing attitudes would only grow increasingly hostile.

[Maryring]

From their position in the divine realms, Petr has watched their child grow older and wiser among mortalkind. For the most part everything has gone quite well. But recently, his poor son got stuck in a severe rainstorm which left him bedridden with a severe cold for a whole week. There was never any fear for his life, especially while Petr is still awake. But soon the gods will once more return to their "sleep" as it were. A time in which Petr can't maintain their child. Mortality has given Nerassus perspective, but what he will need now is the power to remain manifest even as Petr drifts off.

That is why Petr has been gathering up waters of life from all across the planet. Healing springs that contain trace amount of Petr's essence. Mixed with a pure drop of their own, it'll should be enough to create an elixir that can grant a nongod the longevity of a divine. But Petr is not satisfied. To them the elixir lacks... something. Which is what has brought them to Ymon-Thal.

"Hello Ymon-Thal. How's Verys doing?"

"Petr!" Ymon greeted. "She's good, kinda weird but great. A little sad, I think. But happy."

Thal nodded, though whether in greeting or in agreement was a little unclear. "Petr."

"Sad and happy both at once? She's certainly taking well after you two." Petr looks out over the Passing. Souls drift from gaps between the mortal world and the passing, and back again in a seemingly endless stream. A torrent that will only grow wilder as mortalkind becomes more numerous. "There's sure to be a lot of work for her to do when we're gone, which is actually why I came here to speak with you. How did you plan to keep her active and energized while we're gone?"

"We have our ways", Thal said. "Life and death are not exactly unknown to us."

"Yeah, we can keep her alive for ever and ever. Except if we fail, then..." Ymon mimed an explosion with his hands. "Poof. No more soul."

Thal's eyes narrowed. "I suppose we could listen to other ideas if you have any."

Petr nods their head thoughtfully, before they pull out a small bowl. Swirling within is a peculiar liquid. Free-flowing like water, but with a faintly golden hue. "That's the thing yeah. If we're asleep we can't step in to help our demigods. I've been working on a solution to help keep Nerassus active and allow him to live independently of my divine essence. Which is why I have made this. A concoction of the healing springs I have spread across the world. Various pieces of my own essence to give him health and vitality. And a small drop of my own purest essence, so that should the body be destroyed he can recreate it from his soul. But it's unstable. I don't know if I can make it work for sure. So I came here."

Both of Ymon-Thal stared at the bowl and the liquid in it, seeing beyond its appearance to the energies within. "Yes, yes, this could work. We can poke and prod it just right."

"But we cannot stabilize it for long, divine essence is not meant for such a form."

Ymon lit up. "A party! No, not a party. Like a party but with fewer people and no punch."

"That would be a meeting." Thal turned to Petr. "If we bring Nerassus and Thal-Verys together we should be able to stabilize your concoction long enough."

Petr's face lights up. They nod their head and rub their chin thoughtfully. "The best solution then I think would be to bring them both to the MoonPool. The mortal world and the Passing are close there. If you summon Thal-Verys, I will bring Nerassus."

Petr and Nerassus stand together at the edge of the MoonPool. It's a dark, moonless night. One Petr chose so as to keep the mortals from prying too closely. As far as they know, Nerassus is in his bed, fast asleep. Instead of standing beside her. The five year old giant is clutching Petr tightly about the waist as he takes delight in his parent's presence. Petr has their gaze focused upon the surface of the lake and past it.

"This is so exciting Momma. What is the secret? You gonna tell me? C'mon. Please. I've been good."

"The best my dear boy. But please calm yourself. We're having guests tonight, and I want you to be on your best behaviour. He is going to help me with the surprise." They give Nerassus a knowing smile before they brush their hand gently through the thick fur on his head. "Why don't you tell your animal friends to take some steps back so they don't get frightened.

"Aww. You saw them? You're so obsh... obst.... you're so good at looking momma.

With a soundless flash Ymon-Thal and Thal-Verys manifested. Instead of his previous adult forms Ymon-Thal looked like two boys about Nerassus' own age. Thal's childlike face looked even more dour than usual while Ymon looked more like himself than ever. Thal-Verys looked perplexed at her god, now several feet shorter than herself.

"Hey! You're Nerassus, aren't you? You seem nice!" Ymon said, running up to the demigod and seemingly one second of lost self-control away from poking him.

Thal glared at his other self. "He is not being condescending. He is just like this." He looked over at the bowl Petr was holding. "Should we get started?"

"I am!" Nerassus claps his hands together with glee. His eyes gaze up and down over Ymon, before he turns to Thal. He bows his head slightly in an attempt to appear cordial. "It is nice to meet you both. Is that the surprise? New playmates?!

"Not exactly. Nerassus, be a dear and walk over to the woman okay? Petr gestures to Thal-Verys. Nerassus looks up at his parent, before he gives an obedient nod, waddling over to Verys with a friendly smile.

"Hi. Do you know what's about to happen miss?"

Petr meanwhile offers the bowl to Thal with a nod. Within the bowl float two tiny motes of pure essence. Smaller than a grain of sand, yet instantly recognizable to a god as fragments of Petr, offered up for Verys and Nerassus.

Thal-Verys looked down at the small demigod. Even as a mortal she had never been very good with children and no amount of godhood was likely to change that. "Hi. I think... do you know what death is?" She stopped, mentally slapping herself. "I mean, I think they are going to make sure you are... you know, around for a really long time."

Meanwhile, Ymon and Thal flickered out of existence and Ymon-Thal stood as one next to Petr. He accepted the bowl and held his hand above it, forcing the metaphorical storm in the bowl to turn into calm seas. The essence was stable. "It is done. Now hurry."

Petr takes the bowl and walks over to the two demigods. As they step forward they split themselves. Petra stepping up to Nerassus to offer him one bowl, while Peter steps up to Thal-Verys with another. "Drink up." They say in unison.

"Okay!" Nerassus grabs the bowl and empties the contents into his mouth. He smacks his lips thoughtfully for a moment. "Huh. Tastes like honey... and ooh. It tickles! The young demigod chuckles as the essence flows through his body, going from the top of his ears to the end of his toes, causing his whole body to briefly glow with divine energy.

Thal-Verys bowed her head as she accepted the bowl. "Thank you." She held it for moment, paused by nameless doubt, before lifting it to her mouth and letting the contents flow down her throat. She felt the energy burn through her and a second after seeing Nerassus light up she did the same.

The glow only lasts for a few moments. But while it flows through them they can feel the tingling touch of eternity through their form. Like a wellspring of life flowing from the depths of their core, keeping the very concept of death at bay for them both. They shall not grow old.


12 AP/8 DC: Immortalise a demigod *2
Together, Petr and Ymon-Thal immortalize their demigods. Using Ymon-Thal's domains of life and death and Petr's essence, the two demigods are granted the same brand of immortality.

+2 Healing: The essence of Petr grants health and vitality. Their wounds will heal automatically, and their bodies will never grow old and frail with age.
+2 Water: The pure water of Petr will shield them from the needs of a physical body. Hunger, thirst, sleep. These are luxuries that they may choose to indulge, but will nevermore need.
+2 Life: Ymon's essence of life strengthens their bodies and souls to a level beyond any living mortal.
+2 Death: No matter how old or wounded, Thal ensures that their souls are kept from being drawn into the Passing
+2 MoonPool: The sacred MoonPool will act as an emergency net. Should the unthinkable come to pass, and their bodies end up completely destroyed, they may rebuild their bodies from the MoonPool's sacred water.

[gac3]

Maddening Marsh

Timorin saw all of his friends playing with their new demigods and became somewhat… he wasn't sure what it was he was feeling. But he did not like it. He decided it that to help the feeling go away, he would visit some of his old friends.

So he transformed into a frog the size of a boar and went to the Maddening Marsh. He had not been here since before his nap. He watched as the people went about their lives, lacking any grace or finesse. They were barely better off than before. Using primarily wood.

Where is their Amberis? The trees are plentiful enough. And their magic? They have no proper understanding of anything.

This troubled Timorin yet he could not sense why. He stayed just long enough to see a young man wander away from his group and get attacked by an alligator. The others came but they were too late to prevent him from coming to deadly injury. A young woman came up to him. "My love, you are badly wounded. Please do not leave me." He tried to speak but she already knew what he would ask. "I have some right here my dear." She pulled out a flask. "Drink some tea my darling and come back to me." She poured the liquid down his throat and in instants he lay still. She began sobbing over the young corpse.

As Timorin left, he felt no sport in it. Something had soured his taste for it. This mundane violence. Imagine the glory if he had been trained in the arts of the warrior. My cultists would have at least wounded the alligator near as bad. Perhaps his shadows will be able to entertain him.

Tainted Lands

Timorin returned to the village where he released his shadows to begin with. His shadows by now had likely moved on to spread throughout the Tainted Lands and farther, causing untold emotion. He found them living very mundane lives, barely changed since he last visited.

He found the mayor, sitting in the office and doing nothing. It was then that he realized the Shadow of Apathy still hung over him. "Move on. It is no fun to keep it up. He either learned to embrace his apathy or not."

The shadow fled from their spot in the mayor's house leaving the man to be alone, having not yet noticed Timorin. Suddenly the man let out a sigh like he had been holding a great breath. "What can I do? My people are poor and all these recent disasters have merely made it worse. Perhaps we should abandon this cursed city and move on." Timorin watched the man, feeling that this was not what he was hoping to find here.

Diviworld

Suddenly Timorin was in his arena in Diviworld, surrounded by nothing, trying to figure out what it was that was bothering him. He felt… something… watching all of the other gods with their children… and now he didn't even find proper entertainment in his old stomping grounds. Hm… no sense dwelling on this. Perhaps Nera would be down for a playmate for the time being

[The JoJo]

Juniper, Sunset Forest, Ebonbark Bay - 26AP

Juniper tore through the forest, the bloodied amberis knife still clutched in his hand. The now-sixteen-year-old had half a mind to throw it away, but he might still need it if his pursuers caught up with him.

If only they hadn't insulted his mother. If only he had been able to keep his anger under control. He could see her now, disappointment written across her face. His pace slowed as he reached the edge of the river, swollen by recent heavy rainfall.

He would never go back to the village, he resolved, but neither did he have anywhere else to go. Perhaps it would be best if he threw himself into the foaming waters and ended it all there and then.

"No," a voice above him said. "I have other plans for you."

Juniper started and then cowered before the great corvid. Avestra descended to the branch above him, fixing him with a beedy-eyed stare.

"He still lives, though barely. I will see that he makes a full recovery in time."

"Thank you," Juniper murmured. He let the knife fall from his grasp. "But, why me?"

"You have been raised by the Crow in accordance with my ways," Avestra said spreading a wing, "but beyond this forest, countless more of your kind live in darkness. You must take my words back to the tallheads and teach them to live as one with nature as the Crow do."

"I... I wouldn't know where to start."

"Your adoptive mother saw something in you which I didn't. I was wrong where she was right. Come, let me show you."

Avestra swept her wing over Juniper and the next thing he knew, he had been tossed into the air. The bird goddess soared above him, not in the form of a crow, but a great snowy owl. Juniper looked down and saw below him a herd of wilder beasts. Trailing the herd was a pride of big cats.

"See how the lions stalk the beasts? What do you think happens when they eat too many of the herd?"

"They... go hungry?" Juniper ventured.

"Precisely. An excess of predators causes scarcity in their prey species, which in turn reduces the predator population. Nature is self-balancing in many ways like this. Come."

Avestra swept her wing once more and this time Juniper found himself floating above a lake, crisscrossed by huts and bridges. Fishermen were hauling nets stuffed with more fish than he had ever seen in his life.

"There will be a feast tonight and probably tomorrow, but the day after that?" Avestra said in his ear. "Once the fish are gone from the lake, man's ingenuity will allow him to move onto the next pristine source. The balance of nature has been overridden."

The avian goddess spun in the air and reality itself seemed to corkscrew. When it unfurled again, Juniper found himself in the midst of a grey place thronged with people. Tallheads like himself. The stench from the huts, the gutters and the people themselves, was overpowering.

"This is a city. The nuclei of mankind. Ever growing. Ever multiplying."

"I don't understand. Where are all the trees?" Juniper asked in a quiet voice. He reached out to touch a passerby, his hand going straight through her.

"There are none here. The whole world will one day be like this, unless a different path is taken."

Avestra let out a primal cry and the city around them melted away, to be replaced by the familiar riverbank they had been standing on.

"What must I do?" Juniper asked after a pause.

"Go and teach your birth people everything the Crow have taught you," Avestra said, tilting her head sideways. "But first, you must head north and west from here until you find a great city called Al-Sinai. On the day you arrive, there will be a celebration for the birth of a child. You will bring her this."

Avestra swept her wing across Juniper and a small, ornately-carved wooden box materialised in his hands.

"Do not open the box until you reach the palace. Inside there is something that will help you gain entry. Good luck."



Influence 100k mortals (12 AP, 8 DC) with +2 nature and +2 birds, by founding the Way of the Divine Owl faith. Will also use the 2+ Avestra's Perch from the sanctification of Sunset Forest, if possible, as the action starts within Sunset Forest and spreads its culture to new lands.

Over the next generation, Juniper preaches the Way of the Divine Owl across central Tria. The majority of its followers are found in the Empire of the Holy Flame, but there are also communities in Grawpolis and the Toran Savannah.

The Followers of the Divine Owl believe that Avestra is the supreme deity and ultimate creator of the universe. The existence of other gods is acknowledged, though, for example Graw as the god of knowledge, or Chern as the guardian of the dead.

Followers of the Owl believe that all mortals used to live in harmony with nature, until the fox trickster Alatadriel stole fire from the Sun god Yir and gave it to humanity. This caused a great separation between man and nature. Only by adhering to the teachings of Avestra can mortals free themselves from the cycle of rebirth and rejoin the eternal flock.

Particularly devout followers will abstain from all relations that can result in pregnancy, even between husband and wife, in order to avoid adding to the world population. These followers will instead adopt unwanted or orphaned children to raise in the faith.

[DarthArminius]

Su'ule 20/50 AP

Seeing that the Mutants, her Neanderthal tribes were invading giant lands, not as much as before, but still enough to be concerning to her, she wanted to both preserver her own created race and also make life more peaceful for them. In that vein, she decided it would be a good idea to . . . alter her favorite tribes a little, well, a lot. Each Mutant would be able to shape shift at will. They wouldn't be as powerful individually as the dragon man, but as a race they would all possess an ability to change form. Su'ule muttered incomprehensible words over her tribes in a magical spell. . .


-20 AP to transform the Neanderthals into a new race, the Changelings. Changelings all not only posses the innate capability to change form at will, but also enjoy a vastly enhanced life span.
+2 Sorcery, shape shifting is a form of sorcery all changelings do
+2 Monsters, yes, even shape shifting into monsters is possible
+1 Birth , changelings can give birth to other changelings without pain, and those who couple with changelings will always have changeling children.

[Garjel_blah]

Petr, somewhere in Tria

It was shortly after the birth of their son Nerassus, just as Petr was beginning her search for divine essence, when they encountered something unusual but perhaps not unexpected. The water deity was on the continent of Tria when a shape approached her from a distance, soaring through the sky like a plummeting falcon.

But it was no bird. A raptor maybe, but not a bird. Looking up, Petr tilts their head curiously at the sight. Whatever it is, saying that it is flying seems a pretty clear overstatement. Conjuring up a pool of water above them, Petr prepares themselves to catch their flying visitor.

The being gracefully skimmed the water above Petr with a sweep of its scaly tail, coming to a halt just above the summoned pool at a steady hover. It was indeed a raptor, head crested with saffron yellow feathers, saurian eyes piercing Petr with their intent glare. The beast wore nothing but a leather loincloth and a scarf, though by far the most distinguishing feature of the raptor was that it was missing both legs below the knee. The stumps hanging down with a loose, vestigial ease as it held its elevation above Petr.

"Sir or ma'am," said the raptor in a crisp, respectful rasp, "I mean you no harm. I am here on behalf of the Wiltwatcher, Chern, god of decay."

Petr frowns at the sight. A malformed mortal. And yet still it seems... not exactly healthy, but at least not dying. The water falls back to the ground and they tilt their head slightly to the side.

"Chern? I haven't seen him since he blessed my son." They stand up, snapping their fingers to coalesce into a female humanoid form. Old and wise, with hair the grey of seafoam cresting against stone. "What need does he have?"

"He seeks to harness the power of water to aid my people," the flying raptor explained, hands clasped behind his back, tail flicking beneath him with a languor that contradicted his formality. "He believes that you, being the patron of water and a fellow ally to the downtrodden, would aid him in this. I volunteered to locate you and pass on this request, for the glory and betterment of Choblin-kind."

"Choblin... kind?" Petra frowns, inclining her head slightly. "You unfortunately have me at a disadvantage. I do not know of the tribe of Choblins. Though with that being said. A friend of a friend should at the very least have their words heard. What is the task he needs my assistance with?" She rubs her chin thoughtfully. "Or perhaps I should seek him out. Do you know where he is? If he's by his oasis then this should be quick."

"Chern is not at the No Name Oasis. He told us before he left that he knew of a place with great power, where he could better fuel his miracle-working. However..."

The raptor glided down next to Petra, looking her in the eye.

"I, Xcha of the Choblins' 1st Squalor Squad, would personally appreciate it if you accompany me to our Oasis before joining Chern in his place of power. I believe that you, of all the rest of the gods, would be sympathetic to the plight of our people. It is... Important, that you bear witness."

Petra nods slowly. "Very well. Then lead the way and I shall follow."

---

Petr, No Name Oasis

Xcha led Petra back to the oasis, rocketing through the air with his arms tucks away, face pointed straight ahead along the axis of his rigid tail. They flew until they saw nothing but sand across all degrees of the horizon, and then, in the solitary distance, a patch of greenery resolved itself.

The No Name Oasis had changed since its creation many months ago. It still stood out as a bastion of life amid the dunes, fed by a generous freshwater spring from a glowloam hollow beneath the sand. However, the influx of thousands of worn out terrors had clearly taken its toll. Small shelters were scattered throughout the trees and surrounding sand, the ground churned up around them from the relentless traffic of raptors. Branches and stalks hung limp, long ago stripped of their bounty. The once crystal clear spring water lake was teeming with raptors, drinking and bathing and eating and squabbling almost shoulder to shoulder.

"Chern saved us from living short, violent lives, consumed by bloodlust" Xcha called back to Petra ruefully, "but Choblin life remains difficult in other ways. We have resorted to rationing our food, lest we starve. The water grows unclean, and disease has already begun to take hold. With the Indriel Empire all around us, we have no where else to go, and we do not wish to have to raid and conquer to sustain ourselves."

"I see." Petra says quietly. She floats over the Oasis, looking over the peculiar raptors. She extends her essence into the water. The flow is stagnant. The springs feeding it wouldn't last for half such a congregation, and with how sloppy Grawissen has been with the "terrors" there is not much hope for peaceful interaction elsewhere.

She digs her presence deeper, following the flows of water to their source. Distant aquifiers fed by the sparse rain of the desert. But perhaps. She returns her attention to Xcha, nodding.

"I might have a solution. Water is all over the world, and it should constantly move. I will create a cycle, turn it into one of my healing springs. Fresh water will flow. But what I construct is fragile. Some of your kind should study aquamancy to help the flow remain. Beware those who would claim the wealth of the earth, for they may claim the aquifiers too. Furthermore." Petr opens their hand, revealing a handful of seeds. She shows them to Xcha before she spreads her arms, letting them scatter across the sandy dunes. "With my blessings, these seeds will bear quick fruit. A moment of relief. Future bounties will depend on your agricultural skill."

Xcha bowed low, a strange but no less genuine manoeuvre to perform in the sky.

"Ma'am is most gracious, most wise," he said, his manner faltering as he seemed taken aback by Petra's generosity. Below them, many of the gloomy Choblins had noticed the goddess by now. They crept forward, peering up at her and muttering amongst themselves as they congregated in the sand beneath her and Xcha. Some limped on damaged legs or held their arms crooked, others shuffled under the absent weight of a maimed tail, many bore scars and disfigurements. One human joined the throng, a young woman with a bandaged foot, her suntanned face turned up towards Petra with wonder.

The aerial raptor's fierce eyes darted over his assembled kin, then he swept low, calling out to them.

"CHOBLINS!" he roared, teeth flashing. "Once again, the pantheon that wronged us manages to surprise. Behold Petr," his taloned finger jutted in her direction, "bearer of fresh water, planter of seeds! FRIEND TO THE CHOBLINS!"

"FRIEND TO THE CHOBLINS! FRIEND TO THE CHOBLINS! FRIEND TO THE CHOBLINS!"

The raptors' united shout resounded through the desert. While the Choblins hissed their praise and applauded, Xcha turned back to Petra.

"You can find Chern in the Starry Crypt, deep within the Boa Jungle. Go now. And thank you."

Petra waves a hand gently to the mortals. She permits her cheeks to redden slightly. A sign that, if she understood mortal physiology well enough, indicated gratitude and humility in the face of praise.

"Please. All I did was give you a chance to seize your future with your own hands. What makes my gift valuable will be how you use it. Farewell Xcha. May you and your tribe enjoy long life and good health." Petra bows lightly, their body fading away into a cloud of cool mist that drifts down to the ground. One last, momentary blessing as she leaves.

At least for the time being. Perhaps... yes. She should definitely send Nerassus here in the future.

---

Chern, 22/50 AP, the Starry Crypt

Once again, Chern had found himself in a secluded shaft of the cavernous Starry Crypt. Yellow lights twinkled above him, yellow eyes watched him through ancient masks. The god stood in the middle of the room, ankle deep in a pool of still cave water. A single stalk of glowloam grew in the middle of the pool, illuminating its surface like a moon low on the ocean horizon.

Then the stillness was broken, as Chern slammed the butt of a staff down into water with a taut ripple. Two amberis prongs at the head of the staff twanged and twitched with a symmetrical rythmicness, their vibration contributing to the minute surface ripples at a frequency almost below what a mortal could perceive. The glowloam stalk shuddered, and began to swell, twisting upwards with supernatural vigour... Until with a puff of spore, it caved in on itself, empty and depleted.

"Hmmmm..." Chern inspected the mask, tapping his wooden face curiously. "Growth without decay. Does that even make sense? Futile, futile... But I must do it!"

The pool of water suddenly twists to life. A small tendril floats up from the surface, twisting before expanding into a vaguely humanoid shape. Petra inclines her head lightly to Chern as her body works to coalesce into a proper pygmy-like shape. Still with the grey hair. She is holding a gnarled coral branch like a staff, tapping the end gently against the surface of the water. "Trying to grow plants are we dear? One of yours. Xcha of the 1st Squalor Squad. He told me you need my help?"

Chern stood straighter, leaning on the amberis staff. "Yes, I do. Growth is in some ways indistinguishable from decay, as that which grows only do so using that which has decayed before it. However, in practice, it is difficult for me to reconcile the two. Did Xcha show you the oasis?"

"He did. It has a lot of untapped fertility, but poor cycles. I've directed about some nearby aquifiers to permit water to flow in and out of the place. It should help the biodiversity. I also provided some seeds that should tide them over until the first proper harvest."

"Cycles are indeed the engine of the universe," Chern agreed solemnly, "but I've dwelt on this matter for some time, Petr. Even if the Choblins manage to eke out a life with what little the oasis can provide, they will have no room to grow themselves. Alatadriel's people surround them on all sides. I cannot bear to see these mortals destroyed, not after all that they've suffered already. And yet, as you say, the cycle of life must be respect. So I made this."

Chern held up the staff - more a giant amber tuning fork - out to Petr.

"It imbues water with the energy to accelerate the growth of plants and fungi. With your improvements to the spring, and the power of this staff, the Choblins will never be wanting for food or water. And, beneath the ground, rivers will form through glowloam hollows that carry the staff's power to my glowloam. Faster glowloam, means faster tunnelling. The caves will grow all throughout the desert and beyond, right beneath the Indriel. The Choblin's will have their niche in this world, and they'll be safe."

Petra can't help but let out an appreciative whistle as she looks over the staff.

"You are quite the tinkerer Chern. That is some very interesting designs you've brought forth. Let me see... yeah, I think I'm understanding how it works." She licks her lips thoughtfully, before she picks up a small rock, showing it to Chern. "What many fail to understand is that water isn't just water. Water contains minerals and nutrients. All things that life use to build itself up. Hrm... the Choblins will need some aquamancers to make the best use of this without drowning... my boy can fix that though. For now, if I may." She rolls the rock between her hands, shaping it into a very thin needle of stone. "Attach this to your design. I've infused it with my essence."

Chern took the stone, holding it close to his masked face. He then lodged the needle in between the amberis prongs, forming a trident. Then, he lifted the staff once more, and slammed it into the shallow pond.

The outer two prongs immediately began to resonate, so rapidly, and so evenly that it filled the air with a strobing whine. The central stone needle remained firm, flexing in height and width ever so slightly, a millisecond or so out of phase with the amberis resonators. The vibrations rippled down the staff, making the water almost seem flatter with the sheer tightness of its waves. In a second, the vibrations had reached the glowloam in the centre of the pool.

It grew so explosively that Chern was knocked off his feet and sent sprawling in the mucky cave water. He adjusted his mask, which has been knocked a quarter turn out of line with his face.

"A sound modification," he announced, fishing the trident out of the water next to him.

"They don't call me the flowermaker for nothing." Petra hides a grin behind her face.

Create a greater magical item (14 AP/10 DC)

+2 Starry Crypt

Forge the Tuning Trident, a staff designed to accelerate the growth of any plant or fungi on contact with a specific body of water to unnatural levels. Either a mastery of aquamancy or a third threshold in the Path of Squalor is required to use the trident to its fullest potential, though it may be left resonating in the same spot indefinitely. A key limitation to the trident is that its effects diminish in potency with distance from the point of contact - placing it in the ocean for instance will not result in all the world's seaweed suddenly shooting up out of the ocean like pine trees. The trident may be destroyed by attempting to use it in the Tabula Rasa (the river running through the Passing), as the sheer purity of its water is enough to overload the Tuning Trident's resonator.

Help from Petr

+2 Water, because the trident uses water to operate

+2 Healing, because it causes growth

On top of their help with the trident's construction, Petr will fortify the No Name Oasis (where the trident is intended for use) with their own special touch.

[Batcathat]

Ymon-Thal, 14/50 AP, Yith, Boa Jungle

There were people all around the Landing, some hiding behind walls or each other, some in the open, all of them staring up at their descending god. The open area between the houses that composed the Landing itself was almost empty, except for the four standing in the middle of it.

Even though their clothes and hair differed from each other, the two middle-aged women in the center of the small group were clearly twins, sharing the same angular features, gray hair and dark eyes. The other two members of the group didn't look much like the twins and even less like each other. One of them was an old woman, almost as wide as she was tall and oozing of confidence, the other a young and rather thin man, clearly nervous and uneasy with the situation.

"Who are they?" Thal-Verys asked as she and Ymon-Thal lowered themselves towards the ground.

"Who? No idea."

"What they are is the ruling council of the Yith. The two in the middle are two of the Twin God's Own, the others are a Disciple of Thal and a Disciple of Ymon."

As Ymon-Thal and Thal-Verys landed in front of the group, the four of them fell to their knees.

"Hellooooo, people of Yith!" Ymon shouted, twirling around with his arms spread out. "Give a big welcome to Thal-Veeeeeeeeeeeerys!"

Thal-Verys suddenly felt very aware of the hundreds, maybe even thousands, of eyes looking in her direction. She considered trying to hide behind Thal but his current form was about her own size and in any case, hiding was rarely an option when wearing a rainbow crown and lugging a small sun around. Instead, she held her head high and waved at the crowd.

"Thal-Verys has been appointed guardian of the Passing", Thal said, seemingly not raising his voice but still being heard by all. "She speaks for us and you should honor her as you would us."

The people applauded and with growing confidence Thal-Verys flew closer to them, landing in the middle of the crowd. She felt a stab of panic, so many people looking at her, expecting things of her. With a deep breath she collected her thoughts and sensed the souls of those around her.

"Rasal, son of Tara and Selion", she said, looking right at one of the mortals around her. His name was in her book, as was all the others. "Isil, daughter of Sinar and Valas. Teonara, daughter of..." She continued naming everyone she saw and within minutes the area was an anthill of activity and movement, everyone wanting to hear the demigoddess say their name.

"Aww, they like her!" Ymon said, observing with his other self from the middle of the Landing's open field.

"Not bad", Thal acknowledged before turning towards the Council of Yith. "Now, we have other things to discuss."


If you haven't already, check out my post in the OOC-thread (https://forums.giantitp.com/showthread.php?606876-Pan-aeons-OOC-and-Codex&p=24362506#post24362506) for more information about the Landing, where this post takes place.

[gac3]

Sanctuary

It's late evening. The adults are all busy with... something. Adult stuff. Boring stuff. Thankfully not something he has to care for. So the cute giant monster demigod has snuck out of the castle and is now playing near the MoonPool. There, where the trees are thickest, he practices one of the most important tasks a young demigod can learn. Namely the art of posing.

"Halt uglyface! For you now face Nerassus! Hero of Sanctuary! ... no. Uglyface isn't... it needs to be better." He grumbles thoughtfully, before standing wide, planting his hands on his hips and bellows out. "Halt badstuffdoer!"

Timorin, having been approaching from afar, haulted in place. What have they been telling the child about me? Then realizing that the boy had not yet noticed him called out, "Two recommendations. First keep it short. Much like a sword stroke, the longer your words take, the more time they have to ignore them and plant a knife in your belly. Second, try an illustration. Surrender vile villian or be vanquished. See how that flows a little better?"

Nerassus blinks and turns around. His face breaks into a smile as he rushes forward, practically jumping onto Timorin. "Unca Timorin! You came to visit?!" His eyes gleam in delight as he hoists Timorin up and gives him the strong hug of someone who's had to really hold back his strength lately. "You got good advice. Hrm. What if I try... like... hrm. Short. Surrender or be stomped?!"

Timorin laughs and hugs the child back. "That sounds wonderful. Just make sure you hold up your end and stomp them if needed. But yes. I thought it would be fun to come and play if you would like. We can call it training."

Nerassus nods his head eagerly. "I got the idea from Nani. She was tryna teach me to dance. Afterwards she said that, if nothing else, my dancing can flatten all our enemies." He rubs his neck with a shy smile. "I think I need more practice. So whatcha wanna play? Tag? Hide and seek? Wargames? I'm not so good, but P'ua's been teaching me the rules."

Timorin sets the child down and rubs his chin. "Interesting. Dancing? I could probably help with that. We shall do whatever you want but first let's see what I can do for this dancing. Dancing is a good form but best executed against someone too big to counter your quick and fluid movements. How about we combine this game with some of the others. I will turn into a bear and hide in the woods. You shall stalk me and then try to subdue me without harm as you might take in a villian whom you do not seek to kill. Does this sound like fun?"

"Yes!" Nera jumps up with a grin, cheering and whooping loudly as he laughs heartily. "Should I turn around and count to ten and give you time to hide as well maybe?" He lifts his hands to his eyes. "I won't look, so hurry up and hide so we can begin!"

"Okay then child, begin counting." Timorin shifts into a bear and moves out of sight but not too far from where the child is. He shall try to stay hidden until the child passes and then stalk him.

"Eight. Nine. Ten! Ready or not, here I come!" Nerassus spins on his heel and looks about. He frowns thoughtfully, but finding no trace of Timorin he picks a random direction and starts to wander off.

Peaking around from his hiding spot Timorin begins creeping in the direction the child went. Though Timorin is not as familiar with this island or with this rather bulky form. He occasionally finds himself startling a small animal or rustling leaves with his overlarge bulk. Each time he does, he tries to conceal himself but the island is not infinitely filled with things big enough to hide a bear.

As he wanders, Nerassus suddenly kneels down, appearing to talk to something on the ground. It seems to be a short, but spirited conversation. And afterwards Nerassus stands up, giggles softly to himself, and then spins around, rushing towards a bush where he spots a large brown tuft of fur. "Found you villain! Surrender or be stomped!"

Timorin peaks out from behind the bush that he was failing to hide himself behind and points a paw at himself with a small groan and a tile of the head. Then he slowly walks out from behind the tree with his front two paws raised up.

Nerassus struts his chest out proudly, grinning. "Wise choice... uhm." He rubs his chin thoughtfully. "Uh... hrm. Ah... although." He frowns. "I don't... I didn't actually think of what I'd do after I caught the bad guy. The adults say something about "judgement"? So. Uh. I judge you to... something."

With a wicked bear smile, Timorin takes advantage of the child's distraction to lunge at him and try to tackle him to the ground.

Nerassus yelps as he goes down like a tree, making as loud of a crack as one as he falls to the ground. "Oh! Bad villain! No takebacks on surrendering!" He cries out, bringing his arms up to press against Timorin's chest in order to wrest him off his body.

Timorin puts up a valiant fight but eagerly let's the child win... Whether or not the child would have won on his own, Timorin would never say but he does his best to make a convincing play with him before allowing himself to be properly subdued and turning back into a human shape. "Good. Despite my trickery you overcame the vile bear villian."

Nerassus nods as he takes a seat on top of Timorin's chest, pinning the bear with his weight. "Victory is mine! Now I must imprison you. Or something. But I can't sit on you forever too..." He frowns. "Man, capturing villains is a lot harder than I thought it'd be."

Timorin give a thoughtful hum. "Do you have anything to tie me up with? Perhaps you can tap me on the head once and we can pretend I am unconscious until you find a way to bind me and put me in prison."

Nerassus looks about himself. He looks at the trees, grass, and finally he looks back at his own cape. "Oh yeah!" He grins and playfully baps Timorin on the head. "I can tie you up with my cloak!" He rolls off Timorin and grabs the cape, twisting it between his arms into a long scarf, with which he begins to wrap up all of Timorin.

Timorin let's out a bright laugh. "Ah my folly. Not only did I tell you how to capture me, but you used the gift I gave you."

Nerassus grins in pride at his own deviousness. He grabs both ends of the scarf and ties them together, tightening the makeshift "rope" a little. "Yeah. It's a lot of fun. P'ua says I shouldn't use it so much though. Apparently it's super-distracting."

Timorin nodds. "Distraction is useful but only sometimes. Distracting an enemy is good. Distracting Allie's or the people you need to protect is bad."

"Yeah. And I guess they don't need me distracting them from their jobs." Nerassus pouts softly, crossing his arms as he grabs Timorin and throws him over his shoulder. "So. Now that I caught you... what do I do?"

Timorin shrugs as best he can. "Sanctuary doesn't have a prison probably. For now we will say you properly secure me. Perhaps ask Petr or one of the masters what you would do with a villian like me." With a wink he adds "But for now you may put me down."

Nerassus nods and hoists Timorin off his shoulders. He's not gentle, so the big bear lands on the ground with a resounding crash. "Thanks for playing with me. This was fun. I hope you'll come visit some other time so we can play more."

"I am happy to come play with you any time child. I know Petr does nto always approve of me or my actions but I still want what is best for you." Timorin gives the child one more hug before adding. "You have given me much to think about."

"Glad I could help you... even though I don't exactly know how." He smiles brightly, hugging back on Timorin before he slips the cloak onto his back. "I should probably head home to bed. If I stay out too long after sundown, P'ua gets terribly mad at me."

"We wouldn't want that. Hurry along." And with a wave and a wink, Timorin is gone.

[Demonjazz]

Alatadriel sat rocking her child in their cradle a couple of nights after the party. She let out a loud yawn. She could tell that she was stretching herself out longer than she had before. It was barely months last time she had come to Earth, but now it had been years. She started to feel some of the aches and pains of a mortal, but she could make it through this as long as she conserved her power. Divine sparks fluttered across her eyes as she heard the cries of someone inventing a new shapeshifting race. She looked to her child as she remembered the gifts given to the child.
She could spare some power to reward a favor like this.

+2 Foxes. These Changelings would find it incredibly easy to change into a fox or have fox-like features in their various forms.
+2 Fire The Changelings have a special connection to fire. They can easily tell the different intensities and temperatures of fire that one would need to melt various objects.

[gac3]

Timorin had finished playing with Nera and then felt strange. There was something about helping the child learn and grow that satisfied him in a way that nothing else he had done had satisfied him. Those things were fleeting amusement but this was different. This he felt every time he thought of the child. What was this? It was hard to place. Perhaps helping people learn and grow and be better can have a more lasting effect than pitting them against one another. This did not seem likely.

Perhaps it was time for a test. So Timorin sat down to meditate on the issue. He thought back to the people he had helped. There were the Marshians whom he gave a miracle drug. There were his cultists who had all of the knowledge he could offer when it comes to amberis, the path of emotion, etc. Then there were the villagers he liberated from their oppressive morals that held back their true selves. There was the town he had saved from the Empire's attack and allowed to become a productive member of the Empire. Each of those felt good in their own way but something was missing. Maybe it was the fact that they were each so isolated. He hadn't helped all of them the same. They wouldn't even know how to find eachother.

On top of that, Timorin could feel his power diminishing again. He feared he would soon fall back into the slumber. Then his mortals would be alone and isolated again, potential victims. This must be what had been bothering him.

Quickly he went to Grawopolis and went to the most deep and secluded supply rooms. Ah, just what he needed. Then from amberis he extracted from various trees, he forged masks with magicite eyes. Each one different yet the same.

The masks he linked to the blank parchment. All would be connected. And linked and all would be able to communicate.

19 AP 3 BP
Create Minor Magic Items 10AP/DC 6: Mad God's Masquerade x 96 +1 Mad God's Map
Use: The masks have two main purposes. First they can be set to a mode to allow communication by forming astral images of the wearer to appear within 15 meters of the map. Secondly they feed information to the map.
The map takes information seen by the masks and uses it to fill itself out. The details on the map are incredibly detailed and can zoom in and out but the accuracy is limited to the last a mask has viewed an area. It will not self update. The masks must be viewing an area to update it. The older the information, the less color is shown on the map.

Domains:
+2 Drama The masks form perfectly to the face of a wearer, making determining who the wearer is impossible through their face (other clues like their body and voice can work). There is also six per god, one per emotion of the shadows. These traits are just thematic and cultural, not magical.
+1 Games the games done to hand out a portion of the masks

[AlexanderML]

Nerassus and Yir atop the Tower of the Sun - Solar History:

It's the middle of the day, approaching noon. At the top of the tower of the Sun, one of two towers that rise tall above the Castle of Masters, is where Nerassus is found. He has opened the roof and is standing in the middle of the now open chamber, rolling a small stone in his palm. "Blueberry!" Nerassus shouts at the pebble in his hand, which mocks him with it's refusal to magically transform into something else entirely. "Blueberry, blueberry, blueberry!" He lifts the pebble up, peering carefully over the stone, rolling it in his grip before trying to give it a hard squeeze. "Come on. I'm doing it just like Oki says. So why won't you change?" He takes a deep breath, placing the pebble aside before looking up at the sun. Okeyani has always said that the power of the sun is what enables the art of Radiance. Perhaps if he channeled the sunlight somehow? Or perhaps... He exhales through his teeth in a deep and heavy sigh, shaking his head. It's a pleasant day. Perhaps just basking for a few minutes in the sun will inspire him.

The familiar golden radiance of Yir's presence glittered on the top of the tower where Nerasuss laid. Yir looked over their child for a moment, a breeze going across the child's face as Yir said.

"Greetings my little sparkle, I see that you are frustrated. Has something happened during your lessons?"

"Poppa Yir!" Nera's eyes shoot open to look upwards. He lifts one hand to shield his eyes from the light, and he sits up to let out a soft exhale. "No, nothing happened. That's the problem. Okeyani has been teaching me Your Radiance branch of magic, but. I just can't seem to get it to work like she does. She can make food out of nothing so easily it seems. But I can't even change this little pebble.

This surprised the sun greatly. For Yir had noticed Nerassus's using solar magic before, yet had assumed that it was naturally going to be a success since they had specifically blessed the child with more power than normal for these spells. Which meant...

"My poor child, what have they been teaching you?"

"Oki says that, Solar Sorcery is an expression of willpower. It's like..." He rubs his chin thoughtfully, licking his lips as he searches for the word. "As a God, you can change the world almost completely like you want right? I remember you told me once that you made a group of mortals bigger. And that happened because it's what you wanted it to happen. So what I should do is to want stuff to happen in that very same way right? He frowns, twiddling his thumbs softly, looking down on his knees as if he's ashamed of what he's saying. "Maybe I'm too soft. I don't have the willpower to do this.

Ah, so it was incompetent teaching Yir thought. Or to be more precise, of course a divine creature would need something more explained to them than mortals.

"Please little one do not think so little of yourself, for I believe that it is your incredible will that is the issue not your lack of one. The way your teacher explained my gift was... correct in a certain sense but lacked two fundamental aspects of how to use the power wisely." Yir paused for a moment. "Let me explain what this radiance is."

"Near the dawn of time when all was new, before even the Blessed People were given their gifts or this land you live in given form or purpose; the Monster Su'ule wandered out of the depths of the world from a dark place not even I could imagine and let out a terrible scream of domination. All would be under her power." A globe of light appeared in front of Nerassus.

"I would not allow a creature from the depths of the world be the only one to fill the world with such power over everything, to force the mortals of the world to look to them for salvation. And so I took in their terrible scream into myself, and let out my own voice into the hidden sights of reality. However my voice is pure and soft, so it could not reach over the world at the same speed as the scream." A second, clearly smaller globe appeared above the first.

"The first scream was inevitably shattered by one of the godlings down upon this world, though I know not who or why, but they did the world a service that day." The first globe shattered into many different orbs, a rainbow of colors. "Yet my voice remained whole, above the world as it is, now the unintended greatest of magics."

"The reason I explain this to you is so you understand the nature of this power. It is not influencing the world as a god, but using the power of one to influence the world. Those that call upon my power are forced to look above themselves, to me in one form or another, for aid. I grant this to all who ask and show goodness in their heart."

"The other aspect is that of time, for my grace is not of this world and takes more time than worldly magic to be drawn from Above to this world below. Do not let frustration distract you, for as long as you stay firm and hold onto wisdom the grace you seek shall come down in time."

"To put this in a simpler way: stay humble, know what your changing, and be patient. My light does not make any mortal into a god, indeed trying to be so proud would hinder anyone's development. You being a divine creature just makes such a distracting idea more incapacitating."

Nerassus sits, listening with rapt attention. One hand lightly reaches up to touch after the glowing orb that appears, blinking in surprise when the first orb split into smaller pieces. "That was what gave birth to the distinct schools of magic. Master P'ua has been trying to teach me that. Hrm. They all act as though all magic is, at it's core, part of the primal scream... then again. They weren't there. But you were, weren't you?" He smiles up at Yir, tapping a finger on his chin. "Hrm. But if it is like that... it makes sense! I've been trying to use Radiance like I've done Enchantment. Channel mana from myself into the object. But it's not my power. It's yours... wait. Momma says that soon, all the gods will fade from the world again. That's why I have to grow strong quickly so I can protect people. Does that mean I can't use Solar Sorcery when you sleep?

"Though I may eventually sleep, I shall never stop giving my blessings to this world."

After a bit of a pause, Yir said somewhat awkwardly almost as a mumble. "I guess the mortal equivalent would be talking in one's sleep."

"Oh! You mean like Nani does? Although I guess that's more profi...prof... professaying in her sleep. Then again, maybe it's just nightmares. It's hard to tell with her sometimes. Like, if you constantly say something bad's gonna happen, well, bad stuff happens all the time right? So I don't listen to her much when she's sleep-talking. Nera nods in satisfaction as things begin to make sense to him. "Could you... stay and watch a little? I want to try this again."

"Of course, I will stay focused on you till the moon has risen if need be."

Nerassus smiles happily at that. He once more picks up the pebble he's been working on. After so much time trying to impose his will on the stone, it feels a little strange how easy it is to just... let go. To flip the metaphorical switch and relinquish some of that will. Yes, he wants to change the pebble into a blueberry. But he's not doing it himself. Instead he reaches out, seeking for that single thread about his core. The sunburst on his forehead glows ever so slightly as he mentally calls out, asking that the world change as he wants it to change.

Invisible solar power flowed down from above like a stream of water into the stone, working first on the surface successfully changing it to look like a blueberry. Yet Nera now knew that they needed to stay focused, continuing to channel the solar power till it flowed no more and all the grace required to change the stone into a blueberry had been used.

For a moment Nerassus feels like he's suspended in a void. Floating in nothing but pure solar power. Like a river that washes over him, keeping him suspended in nothing but a feeling. And then it ends. Just like that. In his hand he sees something small, blue and soft. "I... did it? I think... no. I know. I can't really explain why but... I just know that it worked.

The air around the tower sparkled with prismatic sparkles at the joy of Yir.

"You've done well to learn my lesson so easily Nerassus. I am proud of you." As the sparkles faded away Yir said "Hmm now that this lesson is done I think you might appreciate the story of Ragdios the Builder and his travels across Tumeria...."

"Yay! Storytime! Nerassus grins happily, curling his knees up to his chin, listening with a happy smile.

[Maryring]

The celebration off Magus's young daughter has been going on for quite some time. As a god, Petr doesn't get exhausted. Not in that way. But they still finds it curious how some guests can still eat, or dance, or... do whatever it is that mortals do when they're at a celebration and they think the host isn't noticing what's happening. Petr has hid herself in the crowd in the form of an old crone. Black hair streaked with silver of old age. A cloak of soft earthen browns and greens. And a dimmed aura. She is not here to see Alatadriel. She is here to see "Magus!"

She calls out to the new mother, taking a few steps towards her with a warm smile. Magus tilts her head slightly in return, trying to size up the older woman. "Indeed. That's me... Do I know you?"

"I should hope so. You didn't sleep through every sermon about me after all." Petra grins playfully as she lifts herself up just a bit, conjuring a small halo of water to flow around her.

"Flowermaker?!"

"Indeed. Although not today." Petra tilts her head slightly, gazing back towards the crowd of people still feasting and celebrating. "You've done well for yourself. These festivals are even more extravagant than those back in Sanctuary. Much smaller guest list though."

"I couldn't tell." Magus responds, her voice dry. "Everything is so much larger out here. After the wide open plains and the vast deserts, your island feels tiny. But you didn't actually come here to small talk did you?"

"Not only to do that no." Petra reaches into her robes to pull out a small bundle wrapped in seaweed. Opening it up reveals a sticky brown mass. Magus brings it up to her face and tugs off a small piece, plopping it into her mouth.

"Nghn. Oh man. I haven't tasted buttersyrup in forever! How'd you know I'd been craving it?"

Petra smiles warmly. "You may have left my island, but you never left my heart." Petra stands up taller and reaches into another pocket. This time she pulls out a small vial of glass. It is filled with what looks like water that has been coloured faintly blue. "I also bring a gift for your daughter. Of a sort."

"Oh gods. Are you gonna dump a whole bunch of weapons on a baby too? Perhaps make her tears create tidal waves?"

Petra blinks, staring blankly ahead for a moment. "N... no. What gifts have the others been bestowing on you?"

"I'd rather not talk about it." Magus looks over the phial in Petra's hand. "So what's that. Aquamancy in a bottle?"

"It's a cure." Petra places the phial in Magus's hands. "A cure against divinity."

"Say what?"

Petra looks straight at Magus, before tilting her head skywards. "Those waters will quench Alatadriel's fire within little Rosie. I give this to you because she is your child." She turns her gaze back towards Magus, inclining her head slightly. "As a demigod, Rosie will live a life set out for her by others. She will be extremely powerful for a mortal. A master of war. She will fight for the empire she grows up in. She will attain glory and fame as befits one of divine blood. And then she will die. A painful, violent death because she is still mortal. A mortal who can choose no path but that of war. That is the curse of power."

Magus looks down on the phial in her hand, clutching it tightly for a moment. Briefly shaken. When she speaks again her voice has lowered half an octave. A faint growl in the back of her throat. "And this will help how?"

"It will permit her a choice. It will wash away divine influences from her. She will grow up like a normal child. She will play normal games with children. Learn as normal humans do. And when she becomes old enough, the path she forges will be entirely her own." Petr crosses her arms with a warm smile. "Who knows. Perhaps she'll visit Sanctuary and befriend my son who lives there."

"You have a son?"

"I do. Unlike Rosie though, he could never be anything but divine. Born from the faith of... among others, yourself. He is a demigod, and so he is given a task and a purpose. He is a protector. He is justice made flesh. And he can never escape that heirtage." Petra leans back just a little, lightly nibbling upon her lips. "I will not think ill of you if you choose not to give her the drink. This is, truly and honestly, a choice I give to you. No expectations. No retribution. Just a future you forge from your own decisions."

"And how can I know what the right choice is?"

"Simple." Petra inclines her head once more as her form dissolves into mist. "It's the choice you make."

Petra hinders the creation of a demigod.
+2 Water and +2 Healing to create the potion of mortal life. An elixir attuned for Rosie's half-breed nature. Drinking it will remove the divine spark, rendering her an ordinary mortal.
+2 Justice. If Rosie becomes a mortal, she and Nerassus may develop a friendship.

[Garjel_blah]

Chern, 22/50 AP, the Harken Steppe

The cloaked and hooded figure shambled across the empty steppe, a three pronged staff in hand. He had not been to this place before, had not even visited the continent since the Sugradi's new divine leader took power. It reminded him of the world he'd known seven hundred years past, before the gods' first footsteps had changed everything.

A herd of buffalo trundled past majestically. The figure lifted his hood to observe, revealing the white mask of Chern. Dulnori had been frolicking placidly, as part of that herd, betting on if he'd speared today or tomorrow, when he saw that strange masked figure. He felt an unusual power, one that had been dulled in these lands for 700 years, and approached the being.

"Hello, stranger. I am Dulnori, the maker of dreams. Your spirit is familiar, like the stench of rot, and shines brightly. You are a god no doubt. So then, are you just a tourist, or are you here to ask something of me."

"Dulnori," Chern greeted, throwing back his hood fully, "I am Chern, and I have come to ask something of you. Though I concentrate my essence in a land on the other side of the world, I think that your magics can be of help to my people. Shamanism, the school of nature."

"God of decay, right? Good to meet you then. What's your project, I'm always eager to show off my creation. You don't get too many good chances here."

Chern held the staff flat across his open palms.

"My people have been driven into a harsh land where little grows. This staff - this trident - will mould the landscape into a paradise by imbuing its water with holy vibes. Tighten the cycle of growth and decay, give the mortals some power over its course. I understand shamanism follows similar principles, commanding plants and animals through kinship and force of will."

"I like you Chern, this is a very thoughtful blessing. I'll add my part." Dulnori shed his buffalo form, and as he did so his horns fell onto earth. He took up the trident, and replaced the left and right prongs with the horns.

+2 Ambition: Control over growth and decay is a great heroic goal. The wielder of the trident shall be compelled to action. Their will shall expand, and the beasts of the land shall fall in line. A proper shaman shall be able to wield its powers.

+2 Fortune: The wielder of the trident will be blessed with an inordinate luck, so villains will not be able to just take this tool by force.

"Now then, you wanna be turkey vultures together for a bit? I'm getting bored of buffalo."

The shining yellow eyes behind Chern's mask widened, shimmering with murky tears of joy.

"No one has ever asked me that before..."

[Godzillarich]

Grawissen, Grawpolis Palace- 4/50 AP

“We are unofficially at war with the Empire.” The king proclaimed to Graw. “The trying to be sneaky about it with mercenaries but it’s still pretty obvious that they let those mercenaries attack me in my troops.” He then stabbed his sword onto the table. “And the worst of all the walls are crumbling. What do we do?”

”The great sleep... will happen soon...so you cannot rely on me…but I have a plan...

Just then a guard charged in. “Mighty Grawissen, someone is here to see you.”
______

Timorin, returned from his travels, approached Grawopolis. He stops outside of the walls. "Graw. I have come to speak to you."

Graw walked outside of the gates. ”AH Timorin...it is good to see you… What brings you...to Grawopolis…? Graw asked as he shook Timorin hand.

Timorin takes the offered... Hand? "I've come to tell you that we are even for your betrayals and let you know I stole a parchment from your stick."

Graw continued shaking Timorin hand. ”oh I know…” Graw then let go of Timorin hand. ”I mean...it’s not like it really matters...because what's going to... happen to all of us soon..."

Timorin tensed for a moment before trying to hide his uneasiness. "What do you mean? What is going to happen?"

”The great sleep... is going to happen... again soon...and there’s a good chance… We won’t wake up… Again…” Graw then pull out a scroll. ”...luckily I have a way… To make sure… The great sleep… Doesn’t make me disappear… Graw then started to walking away. ”anyway… Nice talking to you…again.”

Timorin gets a look of confusion. "What are you talking about? What do you mean we might disappear?"

Graw turns back around ”I have felt its… My body getting weaker… The same feeling I felt… When the sleep took us… So long ago… Soon... we will be between life and death...and I don’t think… We will be lucky like last time…”

Timorin raises an eyebrow. "And how do you plan to fight this?"

Graw showed Timorin a scroll. ”this will help me… Stay around… Despite the curse…”

Timorin reaches for the scroll. "Ah, good. And it shall be shared with your friends."

Graw pulled back the scroll. ”I would be more... than happy to...but I need… Special materials… To make more scrolls...

"Special materials?"

”A magical item...along with a special parchment...I would had the parchment...but I recently lost it.” Graw told Timorin

"I have no parchment to give, hence my theft of yours. I do however have a set of magical items that I could give to your people to help expand their knowledge."

”Good I’ll be able... to make...a new scroll.” with that Graw grab the masks and handed Timorin the scroll.

Timorin immediately opens the scroll. Inside he sees a description of Graw's life. "What is this?"

”a complete documentation… Of my history… I was planning on… Making more… Describing the other Gods histories… Graw then handed the masks to some of the guards behind him.

Timorin's voice shifted with his glare. "Because your histories worked so well the last time? You are acting a fool, repeating old mistakes. I should reclaim my end for you failed in yours."

”As long as... we are remembered...we never truly disappear… Whether it be Gods or mortals… I did not lie… And the masks… Will help me with… My documentation… I thank you for your assistance… Graw then turned and started to walk away.

"You still owe me. I shall soon be back to correct. I have aided your people and some of your creations have sacrificed much. It is time you paid me back for my help with your pickaxe. Your creations have given their lives for what I seek to do, the least you could do is give a little aid to fulfill a debt."

Graw stop himself. ”I would be more... Than willing to help... With that...just call on me..."

With a smile, Timorin was gone.


Mad God's Masquerade x 96 +1 Mad God's Map

+2 mining: the maps are able to identify the type of raw materials that are in an area.
+2 architecture(pickax): the maps can help you easily identify perfect building areas that would leave very little or any environmental damage.


_____

Graw came back to the throne room, some the masks in his hand. “What did he want?” the king asked as he sat on his throne.

If Graw could smile he would at this very moment ”He gave us... the perfect component... for the plan. he then shoved the masks into his rib cage. ” There is only... one thing we can do… we will find a new home... Graw gave the king one of the masks and headed for the door. ”get ready… To sail… And to make sure... The Empire… Does not know... what we're doing…

The king looked at the mask and back to Graw. “And what are you doing?”

”...Finding a new home… And studying the world...”
_____


Since Graw was in the area he decided to visit Nerassus. He walked along the bay of sanctuary. "What a beautiful place...." he looked into the water seeing a lot of terrors bathing. "... I am happy that they....are alright... Now then where's the... little one." suddenly he heard a loud banging noise coming from the woods. Graw simply shook his head "...that’s the sound of a being... who does not know his strength.” when Graw finally found Nerassus, the young demigod had thrown himself to the ground, feigning defeat from a squirrel pouncing upon his head. "...I see you’re having… trouble”[/COLROR] Graw asked Nerassus

[COLOR="#8B4513"]"Not trouble no." Nerassus looks up. "It's just my friend is a whole lot quicker than I expected him to be." He finally turns to look at the one he speaks to. Immediately he jumps up, blinking. "Oh! You're... uhm... you're Graw right? Gra....wissen? You made that supercool armor they're keeping in the castle?"

Graw nodded his head. "Yes I am...glad to see… You learn quick.” Graw pulled out a scroll. Come... I want to give you a lesson.” Graw then started walking to the beach.

Nerassus smiles and happily follows after Graw, his body practically bouncing with excitement as he follows after Graw, his feet cuffing into the soft sand to kick up small clods.

Both of them set along the beach looking into the distance. "It is a beautiful day… he then turned to the kid. "I’m going to teach you the most important lesson… Do you know everything?”

"Nope." Nerassus responds immediately. "Every day I learn something new. Every day I get a little bit better. Learn something new." He gazes out at the sea, smiling. "For example. Did you know that the secret ingredient in Nani's sweets is sea-water?"

Graw shook his head. "Next question... when do you stop learning?

"Uh..." He scratches his head curiously. "Hrm... I don't know. Even P'ua says that he still has much to learn. And he is supersmart. A lot smarter than me. So... at least after I know as much as he does!"[/COLOR
Not

Graw nodded his head. [COLOR="#008080"]”Very good... now for the final question...who knows what’s I don’t?”

"Momma?" He tilts his head. "Or maybe Poppa. They know lots. But they're not here... but you didn't know... which means that... I don't know." He sinks his head down in defeat.

Graw then raised his finger and tapped the kids head "You...” Graw then looks back to the see. "The most important lesson…that no one will ever know everything… and those… who think they do… Will often make mistakes… Some of them minor like when a mortal outsmarted Yir or… major...” Graw then sunk his head down. "...The Terrors live with a curse... because of a dumb mistake... I made...I can never live past that shame...”

The demigod blinks, scrunching his forehead as he tries to look up at the finger prodding his head. "Me? But that's." His voice trails off as he blinks in confusion. "Wait. Poppa got outsmarted by a mortal? I didn't know that! And the terrors..." He taps his chin. "Oh, those dinos? Not the coconut eaters. The other ones? The Masters say when they appeared they were violent and dangerous, attacking people at random. A lot of people are still superscared of them. But I didn't know they were cursed. What happened? Can I help?"

” The waters is already... helping them here...all I ask is for you… To respect them... Graw then look to the sky. ” I have one other thing.. to teach you… there may be a time where me... your mother... and all the other gods... will disappear...I ask you to simply stay strong...I know you will... make a better world...then how we left it”

"I will do my utmost." The young demigod offers a smile, joining Graw in looking up to the sky. "I'll protect everyone."
_____

Graw was in the Gnaw wastes doing his documentation. ” I wonder if the locals... get confuse when... they hear my... name considering its... one letter off from Gnaw.” Just then Graw felt something. ” it looks like someone... Needs my help... Here…


-20 AP to transform the Neanderthals into a new race, the Changelings
+2 knowledge: They will know the forms of a wide array of creatures, even to places they haven’t been to.
+2 mining: they can also imitate inorganic material like rocks, iron, steel, and others.
+2 Architecture(pickax): they can hide in plain sight by clinging to the sides of buildings and camouflaging like an octopus. This only works with mortal made material.
+2 heroism(Déjà vu): they will have a sense of honor and brotherhood and will respect outsiders.
+ 1 writing: when they morph into a being there able to understand the language and writing of that being.
-2 unknown: why they can easily identify the look of the creature and change into it they have problems understanding their culture. This makes them pretty obvious when you question them sometimes.

_________

Tainted Lands

Graw Looked around this strange new lands, there were very few people around as such the Prehist could easily carve up a home here. ”This places perfect… Only problem… It’s a cross a... Dangerous sea I must tell the king this.”

[flyinglemur]

Timorin had finished making his masks and having a delightful conversation with Avestra. When he felt it. A new race was being born. He had to find it and help its creation. But that's strange, where was it? Timorin didn't remember this continent. Perhaps it's new. This demanded some exploring.

He felt drawn towards a specific spot. Slowly but surely, keeping his eyes open for whatever wonders this new land held, he made his way towards What he suspected was going to be a battlefield. Quickly he found himself facing a massive arena. "What is this?"

The athletes turned around. This was a secret match, a few gladiators had had a spat, and in rage decided to enter the arena illicitly. One was about to deliver a death blow, a fatal strike to the heart, something totally prohibited in the actual Miracle Games. It was this rage that had given away their position for they were, unknowingly, paying homage to the war god. At first they were afraid, believing Dulnori might have caught them, but soon that fear turned to confusion. This voice was new, and it seemed not to know of something so essential. The men were wary, and held up their weapons. One spoke, “This is the Eternal Arena, given to us by the whirlwind. We were just, breaking it in, for next year. Who are you spirit, and what do you want? If you're trying to take Horizon gold we’ll have to cut you down, so be careful what you say.”

Timorin put on a brave smile and held up his hands. In truth though, he found himself rather afraid. He still doing it now if mortals could hurt him. He feared today he may find out. "Dear men. I mean no harm. I am a traveler who wields great wealth and power and comes from a far off land. I am not familiar with this place not it's customs. Who rules here? I would love to speak with them about this place."

The men thought a bit. He seemed to be friendly enough, and a few stories had been circulating about the wealth of the outside world. Apparently Elkhoof had heard of some far off castle, and was trying to gather more information. If this man was truthful, it could mean rewards and accolades for them. They agreed to put aside their differences, and a man replied. “The Horizon Tribe is ruled by King Elkhoof. His camp is not too far from here. We’ll take you to him. If you've got questions he and Braedan are the men to ask.” They led the god to the king’s tent, he and Braedan were looking over their maps of the world, sadly most ended at the Stonesthrow mountains.

“I’m telling you Braedan the reports are certain. This world is bigger and richer than we thought it was. And I want those riches here. Do you understand me.” Braedan thought for a moment, he had, in truth, his own dreams of exploration, but a lifetime of pious teachings had cultivated in him a wariness of things too radical. The dragon demanded balance after all, “Look Elky, I’m not against this. It’s just, we don’t know where to start. I’m probably the most loreminded shaman, and all I really know is that there’s some big islands to the west of us filled with tree demons. The dragon wouldn’t want us to just rush into this, not without at least some preparation. If we could only get a good way to keep our bearings with the steppe, so we wouldn’t just drift around randomly until we got lucky or died. If we had that then-” Braedan was interrupted by the visitors.

Timorin have heard enough to be intrigued. He stepped forward, not waiting for the men to introduce him or even speak. "My good men, I overheard some of your dilemma. I think I may have a solution. You see I'm a man from a far-off land who has exceptional wealth, power, and knowledge. I am well traveled but unfamiliar with this strange land. What if I told you, I could give you the ability to send out scouting parties to search the lands you need, and report back to you constantly without ever returning to you. They could scout for months without stopping and travel as far as imagined while constantly keeping you up to date on their discoveries. I can even prove this to be the case. All I would need to know is what God you worship."

Braedan replied, “Look at our banners, and you shall see the answer” He points to the Horizon flag, a stylized blue dragon breathing out a churning cloud of golden sand. “We worship the two gods, the eternal pair. Dulnori and Nestellbam, the sand and the snow, the summer and the winter, the sun and the stars, the hunter and the tanner, the world above and the world below. The Dragon and the Whirlwind. They are the gods of the Horizon Tribe and the Aeons, the gods of the steppe. No others have ever come here in 700 years. Now then, how do you intend to prove your claim? If you can, we shall certainly be in your debt. Or if riches are what you want, we can provide bronze and gold, we just need to divert an Aeon shipment,”
“You know we can’t do that Braedan,”
“Shut up Elky, I’m negotiating. What’ll it be?”

Timorin smiled at these words. What the perfect set up for a show. "Ah. I see this region has been properly neglected. I intend to fix that. So you have two gods as they are the only ones to have served you. Prepare to meet another." With that, Timorin claps and in a brilliant flash of light is coated in blood red full plate armor. Surrounding him is twelve masks floating at chest level in a circle. Six of a golden rhino face and six of a silver dragon. Each one bearing one of six emotions: fear, lust, hope, jealousy, grief or apathy. "I am the Mad God Timorin. Lord of war and drama and master of games. I offer you a gift of masks that will allow you to talk from any range. Test them if you doubt my honesty."

Elkhoof stood, and wordlessly took up the dragon mask of hope, Braedan took up its counterpart. The power behind them was real, and soon they welled up with emotion. The test was simple enough, Braedan walked off into distance, carried quickly by thorns and grass, and soon the Mad God’s veracity was proven. Elkhoof was highly pleased. “Timorin, you say these are gifts, but I cannot take them for free. You are my guest now, and honor demands I give you something in return, something befitting what you have allowed us to do. You say you are the god of games and drama, well I can provide for you then. How about an irregular match, at the Eternal Arena. I have the authority to make that call. Whatever game you desire, invite whoever you like.”

Timorin banished the special effects except for leaving the remaining masks floating motionless around him. "I would love to see what you have to offer. I'm not sure how you normally do things but a thought did occur to me. The people who claim the remaining masks will need to be trusted to be your scouts. If you have the means, we could create a labyrinth with a prize at the center to test their talent in such roles. I can provide an extra layer of difficulty." At those final words, five of Timorin's shadows were summoned into being behind him. "I promise no harm shall be done to any of your people by my agents."

Elkhoof marveled at these spirits,“Oh yes, I think that will do nicely. And I know exactly how to get that labyrinth built. Meet me at the Eternal Arena in a day.” Elkhoof left his tent to perform the customary journey. He walked over to a hidden spot near the arena, the portal to Dulnori’s new home, yet to be tested for the games. He took up the divine device, thought for a moment, and then began to yell.

-

Dulnori had been having a pleasant time in the tar pit, trying to sleep away his troubles, when he heard ElkhoofÂ’s deafening cry, "WAKE UP.” He tried to ignore it. “WAKE UP,” There it was again. “WAKE UP ALREADY. YOU'RE NOT DEAD YET.” Dulnori lifted his head out the oil,

“What do you want, I’m trying to get over this stupid indigestion. Turns out rotting tiger meat hits you hard if you’ve never tried it before.”

“We’ve got company over, and I need you to make a maze. A big one. The most complex thing you can think of,” suddenly the sand of the arena solidified. Vast columns of stone erupted out of its base, forming impenetrable walls. The light dimmed around the arena, making it all the harder to see the right path.

“Alright, I’m going back under.”

“Hang on a minute. I need you to grab our most courageous men. Put a timer on them so they don’t have to walk back home,” all across the steppe the most ironhearted men and women felt the familiar pull of their god. They arrived prepared, knowing they had been chosen to compete in a test of bravery and wit.

“What’s next Elky, a foot massage, pedicure?”

“You don’t get to call me that, and you don't know that I’m going to ask for something else,”

“When you get like this you always wish for three things. No more no less.”

“I need you to put these masks in the center. Make them fancy. Do that thing you do with the glowing golden energy and the winds of fate and the flawless dream emeralds and the-”

“I already told you it’s called the Dulnori treatment. Now I’m going back to sleep, and don’t wake me up or I swear I’ll burn the steppe to the ground in a torrent of perfect fire.” As Dulnori sinks into the blackness the eyes of the masks take on a beautiful green aspect. They are imbued with Dulnori’s signature power, and now possess the capacity to see past the dirt and stone, to find the diamonds in the rough.

When the competitors arrived Dulnori’s work was complete. The arena had taken on a temporary maze structure, and Elkhoof was sitting in his typical chair. “Well then, what do you think? The stage for the Timorin games is set. You can take Dulnori’s chair for this,” he motions to the golden seat behind him.

“How kind of you,” Timorin smiles, before gesturing for his shadows to descend into the maze and taking his seat.

-

The next night the followers of Timorin dream this as they sleep.

“Ladies and gentleman, we’re here flying above the Eternal Arena to comment on a special out of season game. I’m Ironclaw reporting in for your nightly viewing of horizon life and culture on the Steppe Dream Network. Praise be to mother Su’ule.”

“Now what we have here is something truly special, the first time a foreigner has ever decided to come to a game, and what’s more the games are in his honor. Now you may question the legality of this, but when pressed for comment the rhino replied, and I quote, 'Do what you want I’m sleeping for a week.’ And if that’s not an okay to go wild with reckless abandon; well folks I just don’t know what is.”

“The competitors are gearing up now to enter this maze. Looks like some random flailing. I forget humans can’t see in the dark sometimes. They’re getting their bearings, ah ha, they’ve noticed the gleaming prize at the center. Our competitors are converging from all directions. Uyellic is cautiously hugging the wall trying not to trip in the pale blackness, but he’s sacrificing his lead. Intorra is rushing past a corner, and what is this? He’s come across the first of the spectres, the spirit of fear. It’s changing into a spider. Looks like this spectre doesn’t know Intorra, a puny spider won’t spook the blueriver bands champion … and Intorra is running away.”

“Rivals Sagran of the razorgrass band and Talago of the mushroom picker band appear to have ended up at the center of the maze at the exact same time. It looks like we have our winners- but what’s this? I don’t believe it folks. Sagran and Talago are fighting over who gets to keep the whole prize. Even with the masks ripe for the taking, they just can’t get over each other. This is just sad folks, Uyellic has started grabbing the masks, and they haven’t even noticed. The jealousy spectre must have something to do with this … no, no, it’s asleep. I didn’t even think that was possible folks.”

-

The competition soon ended. The champions claimed their prizes, and the losers claimed the bitter taste of defeat. “Well how was that Timorin? I enjoyed it. Poor Intorra though, he’ll never live this down.”

Timorin turned first to his shadows that had come back to his side. “Your need here has been fulfilled. Return back to the Tainted Lands and to your work.” Timorin then stands and bows to his hosts. “This has been a wonderful experience, expect me to return. Is there anything else I can do to be of service to my wonderful hosts?”

“Nothing as of yet, but I have been planning on making certain, renovations, in this place. When the time comes, I’ll make my prayer.”

Timorin gives one more bit of advice before leaving. “I feel our people may be able to work together in the future. If the time comes when you are looking for allies from far off lands, the masks will be able to allow you to communicate with the rest of my people in addition to your own.”


+4 to the creation of the masks
+2 Fortune: Looking through the eyes of the masks grants the wearer enhanced vision. They shall see the gleaming riches beneath the earth clearly, and be wealthy men indeed.
+2 Ambition: The masks of hope look gold to a mage. They fill the bearer with the courage needed to make their hopes a reality.

[AlexanderML]

https://i.pinimg.com/736x/58/25/ba/5825ba66ed18c4d60faae91a62805a23.jpg

Vultur, Varpier - Inside the Empire of Holy Fire - Being Lost can be Better than Being Found:

Still clutching the flute that was given to them so long ago by that kind shadow little Vultur was among a family that venture out into the wider world to find the prophet that was spreading the message of the Divine Owl. For most of the little boy's immediate family choose to join the grand mission. Not like they understood what was happening too much other than the fact that they were going to be living in these hot bare land for a long time.

It was really boring out of the forest. No trees to climb, nothing good to eat, and not a lot of rivers to swim in. There were new weird creatures like big lizards and 'scorpos' but Vultur was told to stay away from those things. For a child like themselves it was a mostly boring time, the only really relief coming from the elders telling stories, the occasional visit to the ocean, and sneaking away from camp to be able to spot some of the harder to find creatures away from everyone else (though Vultur was told to not go exploring here alone).

Often at night Vultur would walk away from the others, and take out their flute and try their best to play it. No one scolded them for this.

Boring days turned into weeks, almost forcing the little Vultur to wander off farther and farther away from the others to find anything interesting. The elders would scold little Vultur for this harshly, telling them that they more than anyone should know the dangers of these lands, but stopped chiding the child so much after they saw how much these words hurt them and how little it did to actually stop them.

One day while their family was resting for the day little Vultur traveled far away from camp, so far that they could no longer see where they started from. Step after step little Vultur looked for something interesting, perhaps another one of those tiny foxes or maybe they could see a bird fly down and catch a rodent again? After what seemed like an hour the child saw something they had not seen in weeks... trees! Actual trees! Far out into the distance the unmistakable sight of trees was there.

Vultur ran as fast as their legs allowed towards the welcomed sight, keeping in mind where their family's camp was well. As they passed through the stark line between the forest and the dry lands they came from they felt the air change drastically, a relief after being in the sun for so long.

However this forest was not their home, it felt different than their home (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=T8K7fVoQv9o&t=135s). Yet that just made them more curious about this place.

https://million-wallpapers.com/wallpapers/3/57/16098692742066372484.jpg

There was a strange feeling of somberness to the air hear, the trees were quite, and few creatures strode out of their hiding places. Yet it was still a welcomed sight, and the shade felt so much better on little Vultur's skin.

For hours the little raven wandered the woods. Looking at sparkling streams of water, new birds and animals of all sorts, and the silent reddish trees. Eventually the light began to fade and Vultur started to walk back to the campsite outside these woods. But...

They couldn't find their way back.

As the light was just starting to fade mists seemed to leak from the ground, slowly rising towards the air as the sun's light retreated. It looked ominous. Vultur did not want to be here when it was pitch black and filled with strange mist. They ran, just trying to run back towards the edge of this forest.

Step after step they ran, their heart beating as fast as possible, cries ringing out of their lips as they pleaded for help. But there was no one, and they were still in these strange woods.

Yet even as they collapsed onto the ground amid mud and rising mist, crying in fear, and unsure of what to do; they heard a voice just ahead of them. "Nyeh? Someone there? Are you alright?"


... what appeared to be a tall humanoid-like deer with pitch black fur.https://c4.wallpaperflare.com/wallpaper/15/95/606/deer-fantasy-art-fence-forest-glowing-eyes-hd-wallpaper-preview.jpg

Vultur's eyes did not stop staring, they were both afraid and mesmerized looking at this thing. It's eyes brightened as they excitedly said.

"Ah, so your a child! Now now, don't just go staring at me! I'm a perfectly normal talking deer-man."

...

"Well now that I say it out-loud, I suppose that it is a little strange." It rubbed it's chin with what appeared to be smooth human hands, thinking. "Hmm, Vultur do you know where your parents are? Will you be able to get out of here safely?" Vultur was so distraught that they did not even realize that they had yet to introduce themselves.

Clutching the flute Vultur said "No..."

The deer-man's eyes seemed to consider the child's words. "Nyeh, I suppose you could stay in my home till they come looking for you. I have an extra room to spare and Neiu, my daughter, would love the extra company."

Vultur just stared at them.

The deer man rubbed their neck "Nyehhhh, Vultur child might you be getting hungry? I am, I had a krähe pie being baked, freshly caught by little Neiu. You can have some too." Almost as if on cue Vultur's stomach growled.

Vultur slowly walked over to the deer-man. "Who are you?" They asked, giving up on looking for a way out for now.

"Eh, me? I'm Varpier, lord and guardian of these here Lost Woods."

"Lost Woods?"

"Nyeeeeh, that's something of a long story, I'll tell you it sometime after diner."

Kinda of a nice chapter involving Varpier; however there were a few things in here that if looked at closely could hint at a nastier side as to how things are playing out.

[gac3]

Timorin: 9AP 3BP

Gnaw Wastes

Timorin was told to return tomorrow to view the games and ceremony that would be put on in his honor. The obvious choice for how to spend that time was to visit the new species that had brought him there. As he wandered towards the new beings he found himself fascinated by the creatures. They could change shape seemingly at will. This was fascinating. Timorin hoped to see them in action. With a wave he began shifting them more, testing the limits of what they could do. Soon they were in completely new shapes, truly deadly and dangerous shapes.

Help:
+2 Drama: The changelings can combine traits of different creatures into one form which they can take. Ei: One could take the horns of a deer, the body of a snake, the wings of an eagle, and the head of a lion or something weird like that.
+2 War: The changelings are never unarmed and are quite proficient with their primary form’s natural weapons
-2 fear: Each creature has a primary form that they change into most frequently and easily, when stressed or afraid they have a harder time shifting into anything else.



The Mad God's Masquerade

Foementer Way, Inadriel
Finally through with meeting with other gods and exploring, it was time for Timorin to make his way back to his peoples and give them the gifts he made them. First he would go to the city of Foementer Way*.

In the empire of Inadriel, Timorin called upon the leader of his city for nearly the first time since it had been deemed his.

“Lord Timorin, what do I have to thank for the honor of your presence?” Said the Marquess of the city when Timorin appeared in the capitol building.

“I have been absent too long from here and as it turns out there may be a period drawing near where us gods will fall back into a deep sleep and be unable to help. So I have come to do what I can to help guide my people in my absence.” Timorin took a seat and waited for the Marquess to do the same.

“Lord Timorin, I hope you are not displeased with our achievements. We are doing quite well and are a major hub for trade.”

“Nothing like that dear Marquess, I am merely here to offer a gift and some advice.” Timorin paused here and watched the Marquess visibly relax… slightly. When the Marquess nodded, he continued, summoning six masks bearing the face of a fox showing different emotions onto a nearby table. “These are for you to distribute as you please. They will allow the wearers to keep into contact with one another over any distance as well as with the rest of my people throughout the world. They have resources and knowledge that can serve you and this city, though it is worth noting that most of them are loyal to me and few of them are loyal to Alatadriel. You may serve her best you can but these masks are to help my people first and foremost.”

The Marquess nods his head slowly, absorbing everything the god says. “Do you have any guidance for me in distributing them?”

Timorin shrugs. “We will all be greatly benefitted the more the wearers see. Perhaps you could make a council with some of the most well travelled merchants in the city. Also, I told the god Avestra that we would help their Dive Owl disciples. They are to be made safe in the city and protected as much as possible from any angry members of the empire. Take these other masks to be given to them when they come through.” Timorin summons up the six Avestra masks and then he was gone.

*Standing name for now. May change once I discuss with demon how he has been naming things like this



The Tainted Lands

Timorin returned to the mayor of the village in the tainted lands and said nothing but “Bring your people to the well, I come with salvation” before going there himself.

Once everyone had gathered at the well, Timorin summoned eighteen masks and had them circle the well slowly. “I know what you have been through as a people. The shadow that fell upon this land was great. You are isolated and weak and need aid and knowledge to come back to where you once were. I have the power you seek. I have people throughout the world who have information and resources that they are willing to share if you do your best to serve them in exchange. If you take these gifts, you shall become part of the Mad God’s Cult and they shall protect you and serve you. These masks shall give you the power to take on a new identity and go out and create a greater life for yourselves.”

Six masks were raised above Timorin’s head as he spoke. They were plain and simple masks, just like that of the god Chern. “We have the masks of Chern. Embrace the decay of this life you have led for it can bring you into a new and better existence.”

The first six masks were traded for another six. These took the form of a dog whose snout was bound with chains. “We have the masks of Enheduanna. Your people have subjugated your emotions for too long. These shall help you devote yourselves to your new people.”

The last six took the spotlight. They appeared to be that of a man made of stone. “We have the masks of Vreyalas. This new path you shall walk will help forge a greater community. You shall melt down the scraps of your failed town and set out to forge something mightier than any of you have ever been apart of.”

Finally Timorin let the masks fall to the ground at the base of the well. “There shall be no punishment if you do not partake in these gifts but you will likely come to regret the choice for there is much reward in staying connected and knowing the world. Now take these up and spread out to the other villages throughout this land and spread the good word.” Then he was gone.



The Maddening Marsh

Timorin appeared at the center of one of his nomadic tribes inside the Maddening Marsh as a giant frog. One of them drew back a bow with which to shoot him but was stopped by an elder. “It is him, he has returned. He has grown large in his time away.” After a quick pause, the rest realized what the elder meant. They began to bow but the frog, which was the size of a wild boar, shook its head.

“Stand my people. You are one of my oldest and most loyal groups and I seek to bring you a gift.” Eighteen more masks appeared. Six were a fairly featureless face with stars spotted throughout. Six were of a hooded figure whose features were hard to make out. The final six were actually the profile of two different faces looking in opposite directions. “These masks shall connect you to each other but also to my other followers throughout the globe. You shall share knowledge and once able, resources. They shall help teach you new magics and techniques to build your strength and your tribe. Spread yourselves through this land. Grow and prosper in my next absence. I have brought you the masks of Opulon and Solomo to help guide your way into this new time as well as the mask of Ymon-Thal to help strengthen the connection you have always had with the thin barrier between life and death. Now go forth and make a great society. If you choose to accept these gifts, you shall now formally be a part of the Cult of the Mad God.” Then the frog made a massive leap into the air before suddenly vanishing.



Cult of the Mad God:

Timorin appeared in the clearing where they kept the Lucent Crown and the Scroll of the Path of Emotion. They had sense built a large amberis pedestal to house the sacred items. It took no time at all for the citizens of the island to gather around him. As they did, a single Tongue steps forward. “Lord Timorin, my people do not properly belong here as none of us have shed blood for the cause. These pygmies have fought and died on behalf of the crown’s prophecy and even the terrors have offered up a worthy sacrifice to aid you. I am afraid but I would like to offer myself to be sacrificed in whatever way you see fit so that my people can have contributed to the cause of this land.”

Timorin stared at the dinosaur person for a long moment. “I appreciate your dedication to the cause and shall take you up on your offer for the last sacrifice did not quite do for my power what I sought it to do. When I conclude here, if you are still willing, there is a project that I need a little more power for but it will strengthen you all. I am going to be sleeping soon and I know not how long it will be before I wake up. I can promise you that your sacrifice will not be in vain and that I will offer up some of myself for the cause as well. I will do this to protect your people in my absence.”

The tongue shook but nodded as he took his place back in the crowd. Soon the entire island was gathered and Timorin gave his most important speech of the day.

“My most devout of followers. I have come to offer you a gift to both test something within myself and aid you.” Twenty four masks appear and circle the gathering crowd. Six which resemble Timorin’s own face, six which resemble a mix between a cobra and a dragon, six which resemble a worn traveller with a hood and mask, and finally six which resemble the sun with a face. He also held out the map, opening it to show the gathered crowd. “These masks are linked to one another as well as to this map. What they see will be added to the map. The masks will also allow you to communicate with any other mask over any distance. The discussions will occur within range of this map so as long as you keep it on this island, any discussions done by these masks shall be done on this island. You shall serve as my nexus.

“I have spent much time handing out various masks to different groups. Some of which are enemies, some of which are allies, and some of which are now part of our very own family. You are to build a sealed container for this map, something small and easily disguised. Perhaps place it in this pedestal. Keep its existence secret for as long as you can as it will serve you greatly. Keep watch over this clearing but in a way in which you may remain hidden. The enemies may report their movements but not if they know we are listening. For the allies, share with them information but always make sure you get at least as much as you give. For the ones joining our true family, aid them however you can.”

Timorin pauses to let his words sink in and make eye contact with as many as possible. Not because he feels it was a hard concept but because he wants to make sure he gives them time to take a mental breath and it is a tad more dramatic than prattling on non stop.

“Now for your masks. The masks of Timorin are to be spread to different islands to make communication easier between you all. The masks of Su’ule are to be given to masters of the other great schools of magic. The masks of Kahar-Djinn and Yir are to be given to masters of each form of divine path. These masters shall serve as a council to teach our members, whether they be here or anywhere. I know that you do not yet have masters for most forms of magic or path. Save the masks for until you do. Seek them out and bring them here to serve on your counsel of teachers. I shall be able to bring one more gift before I fall back to sleep. Use what knowledge you have and the resources this provides to strengthen our people. There is no longer a need to hide our presence. We will not mindlessly slaughter now that we have the resources to improve ourselves. Only those seeking to test their worthiness shall wear the crown.”

Timorin thought for a long moment about if there was any other message he wanted to give. Seeing none, he added, “Thank you for your service and thank you dear tongue for your sacrifice.” Knowing the job would get done, Timorin vanished.

1 AP to sacrifice one Tongue in exchange for 3 BP

Ending numbers should be:8 AP 6BP

[Batcathat]

Ymon-Thal, 14/50 AP, Yith, Boa Jungle

"You have done well for yourselves and your people", Thal said to the assembled council.

"Yeah, look how many there are of you!" Ymon said, gesturing at the people close to the Landing, most still preoccupied with greeting their new demigoddess.

"All because of you, great Ymon-Thal", said the round woman who represented the Disciples of Thal, her expression not quite as humble as her words. As she spoke up again she looked slightly nervous. "What are your new plans for us?"

Thal met her eyes. "We have many plans, far too many for this meeting or your lifetime. But our power is fading, I suspect we will need to rest again soon."

"I'm not that tired, I just need to nap for a century or two and I'll be fine."

As usual, Thal ignored his other self's interjection. "Thal-Verys will remain to guide you but she is of the Passing and will need help to enact our will in this world. You are to find the best and brightest of the Yith. Sorcerers, warriors, path walkers, thieves, leaders and tricksters. Find us ten people of great skill in as many areas as possible." He paused and looked at the council. They were confused — but they would obey.

Ymon gestured towards the ground and the packed soil started to change, eventually resembling a crude map, centered on the Landing. None of the council had seen their world from above but the dots and lines in the ground symbolizing houses, mountains and rivers were familiar enough. Ymoun crouched next to the map. "Where is it now? Uhm... Ah! There it is!" He pointed at a spot deep in the Boa Jungle.

"Wh-what is there, great Ymon-Thal?" asked one of the Twin God's Own representatives in the council.

"That is where you are to send the people you find. We will meet them there when they arrive." Thal's eyes swept across the faces of the four council members. "Farewell, Council of Yith. We will not meet again." His eyes narrowed as he looked at the Disciple of Thal. "Except for... well, we will see about that."

"Bye, bye!" Ymon said as the Twin God faded away.


***

"Oooh... who do you think they'll pick?" Ymon asked as they reappeared in the Passing.

Thal shrugged. "You do realize that you do not actually know any of the candidates?"

"Sure, but..." Ymon began before being interrupted as they sensed another deity attempting to alter reality. "Huh, what's that?" He paused. "Oh, I see. That's pretty neat."

"I suppose there is little use for reminding you that we have things to do?"

"Just a moment..." Ymon-Thal's power reached out and added to Su'ule's. "Theeeere we go."


Ymon-Thal assist Su'ule in giving life (+2 Life) to the new species.



***

It probably won't bite me, Thal-Verys told herself. She had left the Yith for another mission and was missing them already. The eyes and expectations of thousands was nothing compared to this.

"Gsplx", said the fox-eared baby. The demigoddess of souls managed not to jump. Speaking with Nerassus had been bad enough — thank Nestellbam she hadn't made him cry — but at least he could speak properly. And most likely wouldn't bite her.

She took a deep breath. Best to just get it over with.

"Rosalin Ravenhold, daughter of Alatadriel. I am Thal-Verys, Shepherd of the Passing and sent here by Ymon-Thal, God of Life and Death, to give you a gift." Thal-Verys stretched out her hand and summoned the gift; a small sphere of glass, containing two sparks of light chasing each other around. "A life and a death, to be used as you see fit." She placed the sphere in the baby's lap.

"Szlpt", said the baby as the demigoddess vanished in front of her.


Ymon-Thal assist Alatadriel in making a demigoddess, gifting Rosalin a life (+2 Life) and a death (+ 2 Death). Each is usable once to save a mortal who should have died (they're only saved from one specific death, afterwards they can die of some other cause) or to kill a mortal who should have lived.

EDIT: Maybe I should point out that Ymon-Thal's gift requires understanding and intent to use, baby Rosey won't accidentally kill the first mortal who pisses her off.

[AlexanderML]

"Valrion"? - Gnaw Lands - Proclamation:

In response to the incomprehensible spell that the monstrous goddess spread across the land, a titanic pillar of light appeared within sight of the goddess. It's form was indistinguishable, luminous, yet somewhat humanoid. Whatever it was, it was so tall as to reach the clouds and so bright as to make it seem like a second sun was here among the Gnaw lands.

https://sheofferedthemchrist.files.wordpress.com/2013/12/d95ee-armoroflight.jpg?w=584

It just gazed at the land beneath it for a long while, moving it's 'head' to change where it was gazing. Then it spoke with a voice that moved the clouds with their volume, and brought waves of light across the land.

"I come in the name of the One Above All. By their Mercy shall you be spared, and by their Love shall you find war no longer with those of the south, but only promised kinship. For Light Above welcomes all, as it shall show you today."

It's radiance silently poured the hidden voice of Yir from above, changing the spell of Su'ule in subtle ways. The changes were obvious enough to see at least.

The titan began to fade away with it's already vague form breaking apart into tiny raindows that ran towards the sky.

"Know that I will return, when days are dark, to unite this land. Fear me, love me, think what you will. I must return by Will Above..."

+2 Giant: By the power of Valrion the Changlings are kin to giants, the greatest expression of this being that any Changling/Giant coupling has a 50/50 chance of the child being either a giant or a changling. Those humans with giant blood may also on rare occasions lead to the child being a giant rather than a changling.

+2 Majesty: When people interact with a changling a person's attitude towards them shifts unusually fast. This can incur trust quickly with those they visit or lead to accidental tragedy real quick when deception is caught.

[AlexanderML]

Varpier, Timorin - Land of the Mischief Maker - Shady Dealings:

On the winds a shadow passed over the lands of the god Timorin, barely noticeable hidden beneath cloud. It laid there high above the ground observing the lands below, waiting for it's moment to speak. It did not have to wait long, for the god it was waiting for patiently wander under it's cloud within the hour of it's arrive. Had Timorin noticed the mage...? Well, better than being surprised he reasoned.

Moving from the cloud above to a nearby tree of the god, the little shadow left the confines of the true-shade and entered physicality again. Looking at the god it said with an almost child-like voice: "Hello Mr. God-Timorin! I'm here to grant you a wish! Lucky you!"

https://images-wixmp-ed30a86b8c4ca887773594c2.wixmp.com/f/076bedbd-9d40-48b5-bbcf-2262f64b3c96/dzcktf-3390a341-42f1-4f95-8bf7-1ea5f94a4c71.png?token=eyJ0eXAiOiJKV1QiLCJhbGciOiJ IUzI1NiJ9.eyJzdWIiOiJ1cm46YXBwOjdlMGQxODg5ODIyNjQz NzNhNWYwZDQxNWVhMGQyNmUwIiwiaXNzIjoidXJuOmFwcDo3ZT BkMTg4OTgyMjY0MzczYTVmMGQ0MTVlYTBkMjZlMCIsIm9iaiI6 W1t7InBhdGgiOiJcL2ZcLzA3NmJlZGJkLTlkNDAtNDhiNS1iYm NmLTIyNjJmNjRiM2M5NlwvZHpja3RmLTMzOTBhMzQxLTQyZjEt NGY5NS04YmY3LTFlYTVmOTRhNGM3MS5wbmcifV1dLCJhdWQiOl sidXJuOnNlcnZpY2U6ZmlsZS5kb3dubG9hZCJdfQ.7ga6LVOr-GNtaj1ozJXUt-w7GBRNltZyrAoqoHzoyeQ

Timorin turns and raises an eyebrow. "A wish? What do you have that might interest a god?"

This made the mage giggle "I can do things silly! You can't do everything, right? Basically all you can do is sit around with all your kinda-power till you can do things again! That's why the dinos die for you, right?" It giggled again, amused at what it said. "I'll do something for you that you mean to do, but don't want to waste your time-whatever doing."

Timorin tilts his head and considers this for a moment. "There is one issue that I haven't been able to deal with. If you could do this for me, then I may be able to offer you help in exchange. Depends on what you ask for. I have many people who worship me but they are seperated by great distances, primarily ocean. I would like a way for them to be able to effectively travel and trade between these lands."

The mage-shadow-child thing went "Is that all? Sure thing Mr. God-Timorin!"

Jumping up to stand on it's two legs the little guy started to stretch it's back. As it was doing so it said "Do you need the trees on this island?"

Timorin looks around. "They are very useful. We can provide you with metal if you need? Also there are a number of ships around the islands whose owners never returned for them if you would like to dismantle them. If you must take some trees then we may be able to deal without them for a time. What is your price little sprite?"

It put it's arm behind it's back, stating as if it's just now thinking about it. "I don't know... maybe... can you keep a secret Mr. God-Timorin?"

Timorin smiles broadly and kneels down, cupping his ear. "I can keep many secrets for my friends."

A overly-large grin spread across the mage's face "Thanks Mr. Timorin!" They said as they wandered real close to the god, whispering of dark deeds and fear. "Will I be safe?"

Timorin thinks for a long moment. "This does certainly sound like my style. I wonder though if you could truly pull it off. My lands accept all kinds. If you can do a service to my people, they would do what they can to protect you."

The shadow with empty eyes looked right at the god and said "And you?"

Timorin nodds. "I will not always be around but so long as you do not hurt my people, you will have nothing to fear from me. Though you will make many a powerful enemy and I cannot promise you true safety, just as I do not promise my own people such."

"Better than nothing!" Said the shady mage, full of cheer again. "Hmm, you said I cannot use the wood from here. Guess that means I'll just have to bring some from home! Don't worry Mr. Timorin, I'll be back to grant your wish!"

The shadowy mage then left, it's form melting into the tree's shade before it teleported away.

It was over an hour before the mage returned, a huge series of THUD's proclaiming it's arrival at a beach.

At the site where the mage returned was a truly astonishingly large amount of red lumber, black stone, and other materials in a large pile. It was only barely organized and plenty of it was thrown around from the arrival, but the shadowy figure was standing atop the pile of black stone. Timorin and any of the other mages recognized it instantly, it was magicite! A ridiculous amount of magicite.

"Nyehehe! I've returned as promised to grant your wish Timorin!" It began to speak in the language in magic, full sentences, non-stop. Word after word was spoken but a summery of it could be "All you parts come together, your to be ships for me! The wood shall be placed board by board, with bands of metal to hold this firm. The sails that push through these blue oceans shall know how to grasp even dead air. Souls who's live owe me still in this cause you shall serve, keep these ships afloat and above any waters that you find."

The lumber cut itself into pieces and the metal began to be stripped off bars like leather strips, and the sails that were thrown in a big pile flew into the air like a flock of birds as they reached for the ships.

At the end of this endeavor ten large red ships were made, whose sails almost begged to be let loose and whose decks seemed to glow with an inner luminosity.

Satisfied, tired, and sitting in a pile of now worthless trash, the mage looked back at the now somewhat numerous onlookers, trying to see the god.

Timorin stepped forward. "That was a mighty display and this is a mighty fleat. Are there any other tricks to these? My people are not experienced with much more than the small ships they use to get from one island to another."

The shade gave a smile, it's jagged mouth smoothing somewhat. "Nyeeeh. The ships should move almost on their own, if told what direction they should go they should move as commanded. If the ship goes somewhere enough times, it should know how to get back there. The only thing I can say is respect them, for to displease these ships will lead them to breaking down into ruin. Respect and fun are what are used to repair these for the most part, not wood or metal. Though I suppose you could force them to move quickly when needed by tugging on them like a normal boat."

Timoirn smiles. "Then these are a mighty gift indeed and we shall offer what protection we can, should you need it."

"Nyehehehe! My thanks Mr. Timorin. Now if I might ask for one more thing.... I'm looking to raise a family, see, and I'm looking for those that are like me. Unloved, full of mana. Might you have any kids like that I can raise?"

Timorin thinks for a long moment. "There is a small child in a village in the Tainted Lands. He is unloved as his mother recently abandoned him and he took to pushing other children down wells. I don't believe anyone would notice if he were to join your family. Though if you were inclined to have some help, I'm sure someone on the island would be inclined to learn your ways in exchange for some years of service. We could use someone with your talents here."

The little mage nodded forward and backwards thinking, proclaiming "Sure! Thanks Mr. Timorin! I'll take your friend with me as well and teach them what I know. But I get to keep their memories of me, my home, my children, and other nasty things that can let them recognize me, my home, or other things of the like!"

And with that a deal was stuck with two children leaving at dusk that day.

[gac3]

Sunset Forrest

Avestra settled on a branch in the form of a falcon, watching Juniper venture towards the outer bounds of the forest. He was as fragile as any mortal, but there was a lot of potential, if he could adapt to the outside world. It would be a steep learning curve.

At that moment, she heard something rustling in the bushes below.

Timorin was admiring his masks laid out in front of him. Nearly a hundred of them total in various emotions. Unaware of the situation around him. When he finishes his last one he lets out a satisfied sigh before trying to put them in a pile, constantly knocking it over in the process.

"That's quite the collection," Avestra said, settling on a branch just above Timorin's head. "What are they for?"

Timorin looks up at Avestra with a straight face. " I've been feeling... Strangely recently. I've been wondering about how you gods have gotten so attached to your mortals. So I thought I would give it a try. This is a gift"

"They can be fascinating to watch," Avestra said, tilting her head. "Destructive, but fascinating. I still don't understand everything they do."

Timorin smiles. "Yeah they can kill eachother alot. But what are don't you understand, oh mighty bird."

"There is a boy on the cusp of becoming a man going out there to teach the ways of a people that barely accepted him. A Crow woman took him as her own, even though they shared no blood relation, sacrificing the chance to bear her own offspring. It is the instinct of every animal to further their own kind, it makes no sense to me."

Timorin thought back to playing with Nera. "I think I can understand that. Don't you care about the trees? Did you sire them?"

"I care for the forest as a whole. Individual trees will come and go, as all living things must."

"So then do you further your own kind? I've only heard tales of you furthering mortals and the trees."

"We are not of the same stuff as them. We did not evolve over the millennia. Despite how some over there act," Avestra said, pointing a wing towards the north-west. She tilted her head in thought. "Perhaps, though, I can see what you mean."

"So what is the boy going to be doing?"

"I have sent him out to teach the way of the Crow to the tallheads. If he can learn to live in harmony with nature, then so can the rest of them."

Timorin nodds slowly. "Right... The tallheads... I know what that means... Like... Giraffes and stuff..."

"That is what the Crow call the most numerous species of human."

"Ah I see." Timorin looks in the direction they were talking about. "That's the Empire right? That shouldn't be too bad as long as he teaches that Alatadriel is above all others."

Avestra made a noise that in some universe might have been a laugh. "The Crow do not think much of the Fox, for what little they know of her."

"I'm not sure many people do. I helped them out once though and in exchange I am in charge of a city."

Avestra raised an eyebrow, or at least would have if she'd had them. "Do the Fox's troops have access to this city?"

Timorin shrugged. "I was told that I can pretty much be left on my own if I give tribute of gypsum. I don't even think they have any guards or troops stationed there. Theoretically they probably could come if they wanted to but for the most part no."

"Perhaps your city could provide sanctuary for this new faith, if the wrath of the Fox should fall upon them? I would be willing to repay the favour, when the time is right."

"I think that would be a wonderful idea. It would be very entertaining. I would happily give them sanctuary. Would you like me to give them some of these masks I've made too?" Timorin holds up a mask that looks a tad bit like Avestra.

"I'm honoured. You're a better craftsmen than the Crow."

Timorin smiles proudly. "I shall leave them with the Marquess along with instructions to take care of your people."

"Thank you."


Help with the creation of the Owl Faith.
+2 Drama for Timorin providing help keeping the Owl's safe from the Empire in Foementer Way. They shall be hidden and given sanctuary.

[flyinglemur]

The sun is rising on the western coast of Axia. Sitting on the water is the culmination of a massive project. A vast fleet of towering treasure ships, built out of the sturdiest wood in the western border lands. Huge and mostly empty, designed to hold as much cargo as possible for the return trip. It was a grueling process. The Steppe people have no special knowledge of the sea, and have only made small river crafts before this. But they are a persistent people, and of course, had the aid of Dulnori, who never does anything half-baked. The Golden Fleet is finally prepared, and 5,000 of the Steppes bravest men are ready, to venture forth in search of new horizons.

-

“This is it,” said Braedan, “Everything is ready, the ships, the men, the masks, the supplies. It’s all finally finished, I can hardly believe it.”
“Yes,” said Elkhoof, “It really is something. Braedan, I’m expecting you to bring back anything and everything you see fit. It’s our duty after all to collect the world’s treasures and bring them to the Aeons. Gold and silver are fine enough, but we can’t be content with just what we can mine. Other lands must have their own metals, and their own knowledge. We must gather it all up to be used and preserved. With this fleet we finally have that chance.”
“I wish you could come too. You of all people deserve to see the world. And it’ll be lonely without you.”
“A king must always stay to guard the people. And besides, my scribes will be ready to record all the information you send back. We’ll write a tale so grand and bold, that all who hear it will know what you’ve found and done. I’ll be sure of that. And I’ll be waiting for you here, always remember that.”

The two men embrace, and Braedan joins with the crew as captain. The sails are raised, and golden wind begins to blow, Dulnori’s blessing upon them. Braedan begins his work, commanding the beasts of the deep to grant the ship safe passage, and to aid them in treacherous waters. The ships cast off, and the King looks on, until the fleet finally sails past the horizon into the unknown. So begins…

THE VOYAGE OF THE GOLDEN FLEET:

12 AP/8 DC. Influence 100k people. The fleet right now only has the initial 5,000, but soon more passengers may arrive, so I’m spending for that.

+2 Ambition: This represents the hope of the Horizon tribe, and a great quest for fame and glory, so Dulnori put his all into the boats’ construction. They are spacious and very sturdy, capable of taking a vast amount of punishment.
+2 Fortune: Dulnori set the ships’ sails on the winds of fate. They shall have the wealth they seek, and the wind shall carry them safely across the world. Dulnori opens up the winds to certain appropriate gods, for his skill in seas is only so much. Grawisson, Petr, Kahar-Djin, Chern, and Timorin may act on this action. The last one was on Elkhoof and Braedan’s request.

[The JoJo]

Juniper, the Palace of Imperator Thrang, Al-Sinai

Juniper straightened his new robe, glancing furtively from side to side as he lined up with the other pilgrims at the entrance to the palace. He still didn't feel entirely comfortable in enclosed spaces, having lived most of his life under the open sky, nor with so many bodies pressed so close to his own. It made him feel hemmed in. Trapped.

The diplomatic pass and robes which Avestra had provided had been surprisingly effective at getting him past the first set of gates, but now the crowd was barely moving. As they inched forward, Juniper realised that they were only passing by the front entrance, leaving their offerings in a pile, before being funnelled back to the city outside.

"Gift?" a guard asked as Juniper reached the entrance. He nodded, watching helplessly as the wooden box was taken from his hands and placed with the rest, ready to be taken into the palace. The young prophet could only hope that this was what Avestra had intended.


~

On the edge of the party, Ashkan hovered by the great pile of gifts, regarding them with a curious eye. There was far more here than any ten-day-old infant could ever have asked for, and so it would be the right of servants such as himself to divide up the leftovers. Perhaps if he got there first, he might find a pretty trinket or two worth selling.

The gift that caught his eye, however, was a small, carved wooden box which was shaking from side to side. Ashkan knelt down and picked up the box, weighing it in his hands. Whatever was inside, it must weigh almost nothing.

He glanced over his shoulder, but all the guests seemed occupied with the party. No one would mind a quick peek, surely?

Ashkan prised open the box and then let out a shriek as he saw a pair of red, glowing eyes. He tried to close the lid, but whatever was inside was too strong. It burst out of his arms and partygoers screamed as hundreds of ravens exploded from the box, filling the room with flapping wings and snapping beaks. From the torrent emerged a single albino crow, which shot like a dart towards the infant Rosalin. There was a flash and then, as suddenly as they had appeared, the birds were gone.

Rosalin began to cry in Magus' arms, who soothed the baby with a gentle lullaby while an assessment of the damage was made. In all, only minor injuries had been sustained and the sole fatality was that of a cream tart which had been dropped in the mayhem. It wouldn't be until much later that the small, crescent-shaped scar just above Rosalin's heart was found, and much later still that the full ramifications of this would be understood.

Avestra hinders Rosalin with 2+ nature and +2 birds by piercing the young demigod's soul with a small fragment of Avestra's perch. If Alatadriel's action fails and Rosalin drinks Petr's potion before her first birthday, then the shard of divine wood will shrivel and disappear with no apparent effect.

If the action succeeds, however, then the small fragment of Avestra's perch will be permanently embedded in Rosalin's soul. As a child, she may find herself with a particular affinity for plant life and if she ever attempts to learn treewhispering, she will find herself a natural. At night, her dreams will often revolve around a great, tangled tree, deep in a shrouded forest. Even when her body perishes, the divine shard will remain lodged in her soul in the afterlife.

There is, of course, a cost to such a close bond. Should the tree that forms Avestra's perch ever die, then Rosalin's soul would in turn shatter, leaving the demigod a husk of her former self.

[Godzillarich]

Grawapolis:

As the fleet arrives on the eastern coast of Tria the men fan out to explore different parts of this strange foreign land. A contingent has arrived in Graw’s fair city, led by the famed warrior Uyellic, bearing his hard won mask, and most of the ships sit near its harbor. The city is impressive, but has a strange gloom to it. Uyellic sees a young woman crying,
“What’s wrong.”
“Don’t you know? The city is threatened on all sides. Mercenaries want to drive us out of our home. In fact, rumor has it that the wise god is already seeking a new home. But the king has no way of moving everyone, we’re doomed to die here.”
How good any good Horizon man ignore such a desperate plea. Soon his contingent have arrived at the palace gates. The guards stop them,
“Halt, what business do you have here.”
“Sir, I represent the king of the Horizon tribe, Elkhoof. We have heard of your plight, and I believe we may have a solution.”
...

Help THE VOYAGE OF THE GOLDEN FLEET! make its perilous journey.
+ 2 Knowledge: they will be given heightened knowledge of the sea to help the perilous voyage, additionally they will go knowledge of wind currents, water currents, and star navigation.
+ 2 architecture(pickax): the ships will look intimidating as they are beautiful. This will make various people wary of daring to attack them.
+ 2 heroism(déjà vu): no matter how perilous and dangerous their eventual be they will always have the courage and the heart to make the voyage, not just for themselves but for all those who are counting on them.
-2 unknown: if sailors don't have a clue where they are it can increasingly become likely that they will become completely lost so it's important for them to document everything.

[gac3]

The Twilight Isle:

The Twilight Isle has always had a sacred clearing where the Lucent Crown is kept openly with reverence. Now however it has another clearing of major importance. Here the Map of the Masquerade is hidden away from the world. This clearing is guarded with more subtlety for the goal is to not be seen unless willing. The cultists assigned to guard this location do so in pairs. They have been following the plans of Elkhoof and Braedon to set sail for adventure and to move Grawopolis.

When the ships are finally ready to depart, one of the Tongues guarding the clearing departed to find the island's Masquerader. Quickly a council was convened between the Masqueraders of the Lucent Reef. They discussed the new fleet and how they should handle it. After long deliberation and consultation with the other regions of the cult they decide on a course of action.

The following morning, the same day the Golden Fleet departs, half of the Crimson Fleet sets sail. Five ships set off to rendezvous with the Golden Fleet and help them complete their journey. They have a single mask, the mask of Kahar Djin's Fear, aboard the lead ship. They would set out to offer trade with Inadriel before sailing south to meet with the Golden Fleet at Grawopolis. There they offer trade and good tidings before offering to guide them to a suitable spot on the tainted lands. The trip is an exciting one as the cult of the mad god are not fond of boring and safe routes. Timorin even sends a gifts to his friends. Halfway to the Tainted Lands the Golden Fleet is attacked by a giant squid which with the might the devout of three gods is vanquished.

Once they arrive in the tainted lands, the Crimson Fleet split off to make a trip to the cultists of the Tainted lands. They offer supplies and leave one ship there before returning to the Lucent Reef.


+2 war: Transmuters are offered to each culture to help share their knowledge of the school or warrior as well as the Crimson Fleet serving as protection for the journey
+2 drama: The Crimson Fleet likes to take the most treacherous and exciting paths to lead to the most glorious of tales.
+1 games: Bored at times with the journey, the group's invent a form of boat racing and the more exciting, sentient boat racing

-2 fear: Many citizens of Grawopolis are terrified by the trip, especially the incident with the Giant Squid

[Maryring]

Far above the wastes
"Wh.wh... why ha... have yo... you t... taken me u.... up here." Nerassus wraps his arms tightly about his body, teeth clattering like castanets. Icy winds howl about them as they drift over icy wastes towards a peculiar green spot.

"Because it's time for you to perform your first, true task in your position of demigod. And why are you doing that thing with your teeth dear?" Peter looks warmly at his son, his face twisted in a thoughtful frown as he listens to the chattering of teeth.

"C... cause it's c.c.c.cold. So cold." He wrings the rainbow cloak tight about his body, making it morph into a full body suit in the hopes of keeping the cold out. The shock of going from a gentle, humid 35 degrees to a frigid -20 is rather much too drastic a change for Nerassus's comfort.


"Oh. Yeah, you have a body. You experience temperature in such a different way. It's truly wonderful. Don't you think so too?"

*ACHOO* "I think... bluh. I think Unca Timorin should've made the cape outta wool. Ca...can we just finish this quickly? P.p.please momma?"

"Oh. Yes, of course dearheart." Peter gently hugs Nerassus towards him as they float closer to Su'ule's tribe, watched over by a mighty immortal dragon. "Do you feel it dear? The gentle thrum of divine energy? The flow of divinity passing through the mortals below?"

Forcing his teeth to stop chattering, Nerassus closes his eyes in an attempt to concentrate. Mentally blocking out the biting chill, he notices the twists of divine energy. Like a river coursing through the many mortals below. "I... I think I do. What's.. why? It's strange. It's like... I don't know. I can't say what it does."

"That's okay dearheart. You'll learn more in time. That you could sense it in the first place is such great progress. What you feel is the birth of a new race. One imbued by Su'ule's energy."

"Oh. Why are we here then?"

"When divine energy flows like this, the world is particularly mutable. By weaving but a strand of our own divine energy we may influence these new lifeforms, for good or for ill. The other gods have already reinforced the flow quite well. Strictly speaking we need not do anything here. Su'ule's children will be born regardless of what we do here. Which makes this a wonderful opportunity for you. If you wish, you may offer your assistance in this endeavour. Provide them with a touch of your virtues."

"Oooh. That sounds wicked cool momma. I think I know exactly what to give them!"

+2 Justice: Nerassus has offered to design a system of law and justice for the shapeshifter species.

---

On their way back Nerassus and Peter fly across the Axia, watching the many mortals living below. Peter has taken the form of a cloud, while Nerassus is using his rainbow chariot to try and keep up. Suddenly Peter diverts from their flight to take down near the steppe, splitting up into a multitude of clouds that drift invisibly among the mortals. It all happens to quickly for Nerassus to follow, and he's left to wait, hovering for his father's eventual return. "What happened?"

"Adventure dearheart. Do you remember the temple of Sigrid?"

"Yeah! Are they planning something cool?"

"No. But tribes of the steppe are taking the first step to properly explore the oceans of the world." Peter starts to drift, looking at Nerassus to make sure he follows. "And they are going to need help."

"Oh? ... Oh!" Nerassus gives a cheeky grin as the two fly out towards the coast. Rising tall upon a cliff, facing the ocean with it's churning waves lapping against the stone and sand of beach. Carved in stone, walls that have seen many centuries of history stand silent vigil. On the water's edge itself is a small pier of white stone, whose edge disappears into a thin, misty haze. The pier is wrapped in a barrier of constantly churning water, and when the two arrive in the courtyard they see the students of the temple right in the middle of their aquamantic drills. Deciding not to make a fuzz, Peter flows into the chamber of the Head Priest.

The head priest is sitting calmly on the floor. The old crone has her eyes closed in quiet meditation, utterly sealed off from the world. Not even Peter and Nerassus appearing in the room seems to shake her out of her reverie. But when Nerassus leans forward to poke her for attention the crone deftly shifts two fingers, causing a pillar of ice to immediately form around Nerassus's hand. "Did your parents not teach you that it's rude to touch others without permission?"

Nera gives a soft whine as his form is once more chilled. "Oww. Not fair. If you knew we were here, why'd you ignore us?"

"That voice?!" Her eyes shoot open and she gazes from Nerassus to Peter. "Flowermaker?! Child?! Forgive me my insolence! I thought."

Peter raises his hand to silence the mortal. "Indeed. But let us not speak of such. How goes the teachings here?"

"Huh. Oh they go well. We've got several prospective entrants who are approaching the final test. Pardon my rudeness but... why do you ask?"

"Because we're offering an alternative to the brave and the adventurous. Soon, the people of the steppe are going to go on a long journey to attempt to cross the ocean. They may succeed. But why settle for "may" when we can ensure their success. Gather your students. Inform them about this quest. Tell them that those aquamancers who wish to go with this expedition may do so with my blessing. And when the voyage arrives at Sanctuary, they shall be welcome to enter the island if they so choose."

"Ah. Of course. I shall instruct the temple at once. They will be exalted at being given such a divine task!"

"Wonderful. I shall linger at the temple for a while, should you have any questions."

"Momma? What should I do then?"

"Dearheart, I want you to return to Sanctuary. Get the shipwrights and docks ready to receive the ships. Crossing the ocean from one continent to another is a terrible effort. I want Sanctuary ready to receive them and offer them a chance to replenish their stores of food and water."

"Will do!"

+2 Water: Sigrid's temple are offering Aquamancers to help guard the ships against the rage of the ocean.
+2 Justice: Sanctuary will be ready to offer the Golden Voyage any assistance it will require... for suitable recompense of course.

[Megadraco]

Bron stood weaponless in the centre of a room, surrounded by armed figures. One of them charged at him, thrusting with a spear, and with a quick movement, Bron struck at its shaft, breaking it. Another figure attacked with a hammer, a blow which he deftly sidestepped. The third figure fired an arrow at him, which he caught in mid-air, and a fourth slashed at him with a sword. He brought up his arm, and the blade slid harmlessly off of it. The first opponent, having cast away their weapon, stepped forward again with a flurry of bare-fisted blows. Bron stopped them all.

The battle continued for some time, until Bron had demonstrated mastery of all he was supposed to learn as wearer of a White sash. He stood still, looking towards an end of the room, where a group was poring over the sacred scroll and debating among themselves. One couldn’t, of course, award themselves a sash, and with a lack of a proper authority on the Way of the Cardinal Fist, a group had been appointed to study the scroll and determine when a Threshold had been reached. Bron stood still, and eventually the group turned toward him. One of them stood forward.

“Bron the Immortal, we have reached a verdict. You have shown mastery of the first step of the Way, and great discipline in maintaining your Vow. We are all in agreement: You have become the first among us to attain the Blue Sash, and to reach the First Threshold of the Path of Discipline. Your Vow of Silence is now fulfilled.”

Two others approached to remove his white sash, and replace it with a blue one. Bron then bowed deeply, and with a raspy, long-unused voice, said,

“Thank you. I am honored.”

“Will you be bearing the weights, and continue to travel down the Path of Discipline?” asked the speaker of the council.

“I will.”



The Lucent Archipelago, Kahar-Djin, 26 AP

Kahar-Djin wandered around the continent, looking for places he knew less about. In those travels, they stumbled across the Lucent Archipelago. There they saw the Cult of the Mad God in action.

They saw as a traveller, much like them, arrived to one of the islands. The locals offered the traveller a crown, promising he’d rule over the islands. And for a while, that was true. The locals treated the foreigner like a king. But after some time, something changed. Soon after, the king was dead. Killed by his own subjects.

Throughout all this, Kahar-Djin detected a divine touch in the area. They extended their domain, and detected its source. The crown held some power over the minds of the people in the area. It forced them to commit such atrocities. Kahar-Djin had to do something! However, they couldn’t just destroy the crown. Even when no one was wearing it, the people there seemed to treat it with a sort of… Reverence, strangely enough.

Eventually, an idea popped into Kahar-Djin’s mind. Space twisted upon itself, two far away points became one, and in an instant the divinity was in the Boa Jungle, her armour gleaming. Their followers were there, most deep in meditation. One of them wasn’t, however, and instantly recognized their goddess. She was quick to let the rest of the Path Missionaries know, and soon, a crowd of hundreds had gathered around them. Kahar-Djin spoke out.

“Hello, Missionaries of the Path. You have done well in travelling to this place and forging Paths between civilizations. I see that you have also began to travel the Path of Wisdom, and for that, I congratulate you. Now, those among you who have reached the First Threshold of the Path of Wisdom, come with me. I have something to ask of you.”

Kahar-Djin moved away from the crowd, and around a hundred followed, including the woman that had announced their arrival. Soon, she stepped up and said to the divinity,

“I wanted to mention, I have reached the Second Threshold of the Path.”

Kahar-Djin stopped, and turned to look at her.

“And what is your name, Traveller?”

“My name is Senya.”

“Very well, Senya. In that case, you shall be the leader of this group.” They then raised their voice, so all the Travellers could hear them. “I have a new mission to impart upon you. I have recently been to the Lucent Archipelago and found it a nest of atrocities. People being offered the crown of the land, only to be murdered not long after. Magic seems to have taken hold of their people’s minds, forcing them to commit these acts. So I ask of you, make a pilgrimage to those islands, and once there spread the Path of Wisdom. That will weaken the spell’s hold upon the population, as more of them become able to resist it. Of course, under no circumstance shall any of you wear the crown, though I believe you are all wise enough for there to be no need to say so. You will have my blessing in this journey; the inhabitants of the island will not close their doors to you.”

The Travellers bowed to Kahar-Djin, and Senya said,

“We are grateful for your blessing. We shall share the Path far and wide.”

With that, the Travellers set out to prepare for the journey ahead, and Kahar-Djin turned their attention to other matters.

Influence a large group of mortals (4 AP/2 DC)
Kahar-Djin sends a group of Travellers of Wisdom on a pilgrimage to the Lucent Archipelago, to spread the Path of Wisdom (+2 Paths, +1 Travellers). They are blessed, and so the islanders will allow them passage into their lands (+2 Thresholds)

[flyinglemur]

In the Depths of the Empire: Featuring Kahar-Djin
Braedan’s company had arrived in the land of Al-Sinai. It was land of many kingdoms ruled by a blood thirsty emperor, in the name of a mysterious Goddess said to dance among the flames of war. It was a land of wealth to be sure, but a dangerous place full of warlike tribes. It was here were Braedan would meet a very peculiar individual.

-

The company was traveling through a great city, when they noticed a large crowd forming in the streets. They were surrounding an old man, wrinkled and grey in beard, practicing with a shoddy spear and shield.

Braedan approached a spectator, “Excuse me, but why is this old man practicing so hard. It seems like his best days for that are behind him.”
The spectator replied, “Well you must be new around here. This isn’t just any old man, he’s a student of the path of power.”
“And that is?”
“A new art handed down by the gods themselves. They say that those who master it gain miraculous powers, like the greatest sorcerers in the land.”

Braedan was intrigued by this tale, and when the crowd dispersed he stayed behind to speak to the old man privately.

“So, the people say you are some kind of miracle worker,” said Braedan
The man replied, “Oh not at all. I’ve only barely progressed in my training. In truth, I only know so much about the spear, and my equipment is falling apart. I fear I may yet die before I make any real progress. The skills required are immense, and most teachers here won’t take an old man as a student. They’re afraid I’m too weak, and be blamed for my death. Can you believe that?”

Braedan was not sure about the reality of these tales, but he felt sorry for the old man. He only wanted to master his craft, and had admirable perseverance.

“Frankly, I can see why they are worried, but I can’t in good conscience deny your wish. We are sailors, and if you really want, you can join my crew. I can promise you that my people are masters of all forms of spear combat. If you come with us, you shall have a teacher, and the best tools we can offer. So long as you share with us the secrets of this supposed path.”

The old man replied immediately, “Yes, yes absolutely,” he knelt down, “Kahar-Djin, great connector, guardian of gates, explorer of the unknown, keep me on this journey. May his blessings be upon you all, for giving me this chance to perfect my art, and to spread his wisdom to lands uncharted.”

A slight breeze blew, a quiet sound of rushing air as space twisted and bent, and where one moment was nothing, the next stood a masked figure, an old man holding a staff. They approached the old man, and raising his staff, said,

“I hear your prayers, Gil-Galad, and I come to answer them.” They lifted his staff, and a ray of light came down upon those present. “You have my blessing in your journey through the oceans. You shall feel the perils of travel lessen, and the paths you forge will stand strong. No port shall refuse you. As for you Gil-Galad…” They approached the old man, and spoke in a quieter tone.

“You have my utmost respect for choosing to embark on such a harsh and demanding journey at your age. I speak of both your joining the company, and your travelling of the Path of Power. Maintain this determination in your heart, and I assure you,” with this, they leaned in closer, and with their free hand, lifted his mask off his face. “It is never too late for anything.”

One moment later, Kahar-Djin was gone.

+1 Travellers, for their blessing on their journey,
+2 Paths, for the paths they forge to stay strong,
+2 Threshold, as no port will refuse them,
-2 Unexplored, because the ocean is... Pretty unexplored thus far.

Dulnori was lying in his pit, as was quickly becoming standard, when he suddenly got the strangest feeling that he had forgotten something.

“Hmm, now what could it be? I’ve done everything I’ve needed to for the fleet, and I don’t have any other duties to complete. Maybe I should throw a party, I could invite the Dragon. Party, dragon … oh that was it.”

A day later, a terror bird, with feathers the color of gold appears before Aladatrial with a note tied to it reading, “For your daughter, sorry for missing the party, was a buffalo at the time.”


+2 fortune: Rosie is gifted a steed, a golden terror bird, fast, strong, loyal, and very lucky.

At the same time the race of changelings grow that familiar golden scale, and start being seized by a rush of new ideas.


+2 ambition: The changelings shall be a race of great ingenuity and inventiveness, able to progress quickly in industry and make new progress.

[Garjel_blah]

Chern, 22/50 AP, the Golden Fleet

"Arrr," growled Pogba, the gnarled old Horizon sailor, to his fellow crew mate Willin, "we been sailing this 'ere ocean for weeks, naow."

"Months, oi'd say," corrected Willin as he swabbed the deck with a leather rag.

"Months out on this watery wasteland, naught but 'ard tack, jerky, n' weak ale to sustain arr-selves. Oi never though oi'd grow tired of 'ard tack, jerky, n' weak ale, but I be tellin' you Willin, oi'd go two score rounds in the Eternal 'Rena just fer a 'andful-a wild berries."

"Ay, a 'ear ya ol' matey Pogba. I swear me teeth been crumbling in me mouth from a lack er vitamin C."

"Wha?"

"Tha's me ma's word fer fruit n' veg, may the Dragon's prophet preserve 'er dear mortal soul amen."

"Amen. But yer late mum's batty, Willin. She thought that infection's the result-a microscopic organisms replicatin' in the body an' producing 'armful toxins."

"Yer mean germs?"

"Yeah those buggers. Buffalo crap! We all know infection's the gods punishment fer bein' a weaklin'. Scurvy's is no different, I be tellin' you."

"Arr, you could be right. 'Owever. I'd give me good for nothin' firstborn son to suck on a lemon right about naow."

At that moment a lemon fell out of the sky and hit Willin on the head, dislodging a couple of his scurvy-ridden teeth.

"Ye gods!" Pogba stooped to pick up the lemon. "Where'd tha' come from?"

Then fell another lemon. And another. Soon, the entire fleet and it's surrounding ocean was being pelted by raining lemons. Though it was a clear day, a cloud of fruit flies circled high up overhead, the apparent source of the downpour.

"Willin ya mad dog, yer prayers 'ave been answered! It's rainin' lemons!"

"Arr," growled Willin, lemon juice running down his beard as he gnawed through the thick peel to the succulent sour core, "it's like me ma always said, may the Dragon's prophet preserve 'er dear mortal soul amen; 'when life gives ya lemons, make lemonade'."

"Wassat?"

"Be damned if oi know."

Help Dulnori influence 100k mortals

+4 Decay, as he is addressing malnutrition

Cause lemons to rain from the sky above the Golden Fleet, ensuring a balanced diet for the primitive seamen.

[AlexanderML]

Valrion and Others - The City of Shining Bronze Yimor, the Palace of Marble- Meeting the Emperor (Part 1):

Ulmor was the one that stayed outside the city to wait for Valrion to reach the city, staying in a long-inn waiting for their friend to return. Yet they were taking their time reaching the city, perhaps leaving them be for once was an issue? Maybe they got lost, found an enemy of some sort, or maybe they found something more important to settle along the way?

It did not matter to much to the (relatively) small enchanter, no matter the issue present against Valrion it was hard to imagine them being in any real danger here. For the time being he'd simply have to spend his time basically doing nothing except enchant random objects with spells that no one will probably ever appreciate. A notable example being that chamber pot that will blow out all it's contents if mana is given to it, probably never and if so hopefully after he's gone.

Ulmor was just eating his morning meal outside, looking out into the distance at the main road into Yimor, now the third morning since Valrion should have arrived. Yet as they were about to sigh and think about another means of wasting away the day and their advance skills a hand was placed upon their shoulder. He could have sworn it was going to be Valrion with this kind of timing, but as they turned their head only the face of the towering councilor Ragdios was there. His face was always stony, but knowing the man somewhat Ulmor saw that he was... tense, and he was not directly looking into Ulmor's eyes.

"Wizard Ulmor, the emperor calls for you." was what he said, his voice confirming to Ulmor that something was wrong.

"What do you mean? I haven't heard the Court electing any replacements for Trimonus." It was not that odd for a councilor like Ragdios to know about who was elected the new emperor before the public, but those words still felt very ominous. It was odd that they'd call for Ulmor, unless...

"It's Valrion, isn't it? They were made emperor?" he said hoping for a no.

"..." But Ragdios just looked away.

"Why? They told me they wished to continue traveling, we were just going to stay here a few days, we were... I thought..." But they just stopped talking, and began walking towards the gate of the city having Ragdios lead the way.

Though it was a gorgeous day inside the shining city the pair made no small talk as they wandered down the many streets and sights they intended to show Valrion. When they finally arrived at the Palace of Marble Ulmor noticed that there was surprisingly little noise inside, especially with a new emperor being elected.

Instead of taking Ulmor to the courtroom they were taken to a surprisingly small chamber elsewhere in the palace, it looked like an empty study room or personal office, though a well furnished one. And sitting behind the desk in the center of the room was Valrion.

The first thing Ulmor noticed were the calm eyes that looked out at the world from a distance, even when they looked at Ulmor and Ragdios entering into the room they barely lit up at all. A smile might have crossed their face, their form may be more fashionable and awe-inspiring, and the perfect sent of the lab might have wafted across Ulmor's nose, but Ulmor could not get over the eyes.

"Thank you Ragdios, you may leave." They said, nothing but completely polite sounding. The counciler did leave with a short bow. Leaving Valrion and Ulmor to just look at each other for a while.

Valrion finally said "It is good to see you Ulmor, I apologize but circumstance has kept my attention elsewhere these past few days."

Raising their eyebrow Ulmor gave a huff "You've been spending your time becoming Emperor? Not enough time to even send Ragdios to tell a friend that he need not stay in a barn-house for a couple days? What has gotten into you?" That stung Valrion, their eyes betraying them being pained, though exactly why Ulmor could not tell. With a sigh he continues "Just... tell me what happened."

Valrion seemed to consider what they were about to say "Yir came to me. They wished me to stop perusing my dream and to start administering to the empire's dream. There has been work out in the wider world that has needed my attention, will need my attention, but I needed to return here to claim the throne before the Court elected another."

"But why emperor? And Valrion, you-" they were interrupted with Valrion answering their question.

"Because it was what I was made for" they looked away from Ulmor hiding their eyes "nothing more."

... Ulmor did not know what to say, they were there when Valrion was made after all. They even heard Light Above's voice, and knew that what Valrion said was true. Still that did not mean that they had to go through... whatever they were going through. With frustrated tears in their eyes, Valrion looked back into Ulmor's eyes and for the first time since he walked into the room he felt like he was talking to their friend.

"I know that me abandoning our journey this suddenly is wrong, I'm sorry. And though it is selfish of me I have a request for you, if you would hear me out."

Ulmor stared at those eyes for a few moments, still not really understanding why this was happening but was beginning to see how whatever happened had affected Valrion.

Leaning back on his chair with a sudden relaxed attitude Ulmor said "Hmmm... I suppose I'll hear out what you want, not like I have anything better to do at the moment."

Smiling Valrion wiped away their tears "Thank you Ulmor. I wanted to ask that you say here, or close by, as a wizard in my employ."

"Sure Val, at least I'll be paid for my help now."

"Thank you."





Emperor Valrion and Others – Outside the Gates to Theshana – A Prophesy Comes True:

The lands inside the valley of Theshana seemed to have always been a field of cation and vigil, with dozen upon dozen of towers and fortified defense structures set up around the valley outside the city, the painful and near-constant aggression from the Sugrandi forcing them to heavily defend even the smallest of farms.

Yet on this day everything was quite, it had been quite for three weeks now, not even a single attack had occurred. In one particular case the giants upon seeing the Theshanians ran away. The leaders of Theshana were beginning to worry that this was the sign of a massive attack force being readied to take the city, it would not be the first time something like that had happened. The Theshanians prepared to the best of their ability, men being readied for combat, weapons sharpened, rations already being sorted, enchanters strengthening their wards.

On the first day of the fourth week the guards outside the city’s gates noticed someone down below that looked odd and dangerous. They wore gleaming golden armor, and shone with an inner light. If it were not for the fact that they were human sized they’d had killed them on the spot for having all the tell-tale signs of being a solarmancer. Then they began to speak, their voice carrying farther than it had it should into the city:

“Hear me, people of the Shining Craftsmen, I have come to this city in the name of the One Ab-” They did not get any further into their speech before a shard of ice struck them and four individuals jumped down from the wall (their enchanted boots making such a feat possible).

It would be hard to call these four anything other than a group of elite heroes, all of them wearing bronze armor of some sort enchanted by means more advance than the outside world can imagine. One of them was wearing lighter armor and seemed to be an actual magic-user, they stayed behind as the other three charged at Valrion.

(https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SUGDp39srk0)

[Emperor Valrion Appears!]

[Hero 1 Uses Slash!]

… Hit! 0 points of damage!

[Hero 2 Channels into the Lightning Spear, Thunder Strike!]

… Hit! 0 points of damage! Electricity courses over Emperor Valrion, but they are not paralyzed.

[Hero 3 Channels into the Bronze Fist, Force Punch!]

… Hit! 0 points of damage!

[Hero 4 Casts Icicle Storm!]

No effect on Emperor Valrion. Hero 2 took 349 points of damage! Hero 3 took 143 points of damage!

[Emperor Valrion]: This is pointless, please cease your hostility. I'm here to talk.

[Heroes]: No! We will never give in to you!

A few more times they went back and forth like this, the heroes trying to damage Emperor Valrion and Emperor Valrion trying to dissuade then from attacking. After a the shock of the initial clash had settled those still on the walls gave what assistance they could, firing magic at Emperor Valrion or giving items to those fighting him so they could keep on going. For hours this kept on going, with Emperor Valrion patiently stating they were their to talk after every series of attacks.

Finally one of the head councilmen came to the walls, hearing how their was an invincible golden man standing at the gates to the city. At first they were too scared to approach, but as the hours dragged by resources were wasted and the golden figure kept on stating that it was here not to fight, he finally decided to ask. "What is there to talk about? What could you have to say to us?"

"In the name of the Light Above I come to discuss Peace, for this conflict has gone on too long."

"Because of you savages!" The councilman could not contain their own hatred. "Leave! There will be peace when you savages leave our lands!"

The figures posture changed in rapid succession, from an a aggressive stance quickly to the neutral one that they had before "... I cannot deny the hatred you feel, but please listen to me. Even if I did leave this place... it would still be alone. I wish not for the idea of isolation to thrive between us, such isolation... it would just lead to the tragedy of this place, your people, to be done elsewhere. Sugrandi, humans, everyone needs to learn from the past, and learn to accept others. And...

...and by Will Above I must fulfill the prophesy."

The councilman said in almost an instant "Ha, the prophesy of the gods protects our lands! As long as our spirit endures, as long as the weak are cared for, no matter your strength our walls will forever hold!"

"That is not the whole of the prophesy, and you know it." The councileman tried to think back on what they had heard, what had been spoken of... then their eyes widened.

"We are not your kin! No giant scum wanders our streets!"

"Indeed, no Sugrandi live inside your walls. But let it be know!" Valrion's voice catching in the wind over the city "That the people of Theshana are now officially to be considered all Pa'dowon to the empire! Every citizen and those of their blood are free kin to the Sugrandi! As such, no Sugrandi or those under them shall harm the Theshanians!"

"That-that does not count!" the councilman yelled, yet still hearing a few cheers inside the city nonetheless.

"I shall return, when I do it shall be to give Thenshana all the lands they have lost, and to forge this future we hold together. By Light Above, I will return to make this the most beloved of cities."


15/50 AP left
10 AP/6 DC: influence a town of mortals (~10k) - The Peace of Theshana

By the work of the Emperor Valrion the title of Pa'dowon (the rank of basically a giant) is given to the people of Theshana, whether they accept it and integrate peacefully under the Emperor's Peace or not is up to them. Though there are a few factors at play.

+2 Giant: Emperor Valrion is personally interacting with the people of Theshana, and so uses their own power and charisma to try and win over the city.

+2 Sun: Those Theshanians that accept the peace between giants and Theshana find that the sun blesses them, granting them a strong favor for the use of Solarmancy. Those that openly support the peace and openness can be rewarded with random miracles (spontaneous solar magic because of their talent, still takes mana and time). These rewards will dim in time, settling a very mild boost to the talent of the city's inhabitants in solarmancy.

+2 Majesty: Through persistent negotiations between both giants and Theshanians, Valrion dispels centuries of hatred between the peoples. It might not be enough, but it significantly helps.

+2 Stonethroe Mountains: For the first time in centuries the people of Theshana can travel outside their borders, and the shining peaks and their people are where they go, where they learn new ideas, and return from alive and well.

+1 Perfection: The people of Theshana find that spending time with the giants in their many lands has let them perfect their skills to greater heights than before.

5/50 AP left

The Emperor's Peace will be described in detail later, some of you basically already know what it is (Gene), but here are some of the basics of it.

1. Freedom of religion.
2. Full autonomy within your borders, the major exceptions being colonies or other orbit groups, which are under Empire/X group's rule, and the economic trade of the region which is also under a joint rule.
3. Freedom of movement between both parties.
4. In times of war or emergency X group can call the empire to protect them, with the empire not being able to force the same onto the group, though they may ask/hire repeatedly.
5. Depending on the size of the population, the group may send a representative(s) to the Court to decide on empire-wide matters.



Valrion - The Baby Party - The Messenger:

Valrion appeared inconspicuously among the guests, their normal armor left behind for a white and gold robe. They gave their name to the guards when asked, though they asked them to not reveal who they were till after the celebrations.

The demi-god had no real idea what to do in the party and were urged onward to complete their task and go; so they did not talk with the other guests and headed towards the child as soon as polite custom would allow in a calm orderly fashion.

Upon the sight of the Rosie Valrion stopped in their tracks, stared at her, and let out a quite 'AWWE!' Walking with actual enthusiasm towards the child who was had been laid down for a bit by Magnus. Valrion quietly exclaimed to the child "You are adorable! Just look at those..." They fell silent, the light catching up with their spirit. It was kinda odd, seeing Valrion struggle for a bit before continuing. "Ah, yes, I should tell you of their decree before anything else. Little one, by decree of the [B]One Above you are a living tragedy. Few will see past this, to see past your abominable blood of two things that should not be one. To the west, upon where the Blessed live, is a land too holy for you; to be within sight of it will bring doom to your soul. Yet They are not without mercy, little one you may seek out these holy lands to purify yourself, to do so safely requires but a simple prayer."

Valrion looked exhausted, burdened suddenly as they fought to say a few more words.

"My poor little cousin, I am sorry. These gods, these goddesses, the divine makes us tools and pawns in their cruel wars and crueler games. I cannot save you. I have not saved myself. Yet I believe there is Hope for me somehow and I shall gift the same Hope to you."

After those words were given, Valrion left with the light of the sun as if they were never there.

+2 Stonethroe Mountains: Being within sight of these holy peaks causes Rosie to burst into white holy flame that is not her friend, it eats at her divinity and her soul. During the day this effect worsens and removes the domain bonus she gives if still within sight of the peaks. Theoretically if you kept her under the effects of this for a whole day she'd die, but that'd be a destroy demi-god action. Non-permanent and artificial covering does not protect against this affect, but being within a cave or right side of a valley would. A simple prayer to Yir while under the effects of this curse instantly removes the divinity and let's Rosie keep her life (no way to force it to happen).

+2 Majesty: Rosie will find it incredibly hard to earn respect, as she lacks any aura of majesty. She can perfectly lead an army for a campaign and yet only make minor headway into getting her men to legitimately respect her, while her flawed mortal peers have the loyalty and respect of those under them. Of course she's a demi-god and so has more time to get this respect, and can speed up the process considerably with those kinds of folk that don't care much for respect. Fear is completely unaffected.

-2 Petulance: Valrion cannot do much to save Rosie from the gods curses and 'blesses'. They cannot even counter the damage done by Yir, yet they give Rosie the only thing they have to fight the gods, hope to be able to still live as themselves somehow. With this Hope she may learn to find ways to surpass, get rid of, or negate any of the gifts/curses given to her. Of course these means might be probably are more difficult to deal with than the original, but Valrion is just gifting her the ability to choose how to handle all these gifts (even Ala's).

[Garjel_blah]

Chern, 22/50 AP, the Gnaw Wastes

During his time spent on Axia, Chern sensed a great power emanated from the furthest north regions. He coalesced from his swarm at the peak of a knoll in the newly enriched wastelands, leaning on his finely crafted trident. His lamp-like eyes surveyed the land like a swivelling lighthouse.

Chern did not hate what he saw. The changelings, though they were very powerful, were not evil, yet. But they were unmoderated. The goddess Su'ule seemed to be quite poor at moderating her creations thus far.

The Wiltwatcher would be happy to correct that.

Hinder Su'ule's creation of the changelings

-4 Decay, reducing their population growth

-1 Fermentation, use of alcohol

The fertility of the changelings will be reduced. To balance out their great power and longevity, their numbers will remain consistently smaller than lesser mortals.
In addition, excess alcohol consumption will cause the changeling's shapeshifting ability to become scrambled.

[Garjel_blah]

Chapter 2, Turn 3 rolls

Grawissen (16 AP) - Immortalise Deja Vu (12 AP/8 DC) +2 Knowledge/+2 Architecture/+2 Heroism/+1 Writing
[roll0]

Alatadriel (20 AP) - immaculately conceive Rosalin Ravenhold (18 AP/14 DC) +2 Fire/+2 Foxes
Grawissen, +2 Knowledge/+2 Architecture/+2 Mining/+2 Heroism, wisdom and palaces and minerals oh my!
Timorin, +2 War/+2 Drama, the 2nd Amendment
Chern, +4 Decay/-2 Downtrodden, a vaccination
Su'ule, +2 Monsters/+2 Sorcery/+1 Birth/-2 Wilfulness, scream and monster command
Petr, -2 Water/-2 Healing/-2 Justice, option for mortality
Ymon-Thal, +2 Life/+2 Death, one time control of life and death
Avestra, -2 Nature/-2 Birds, link to Perch
Dulnori, +2 Fortune, golden terror bird
Yir, -2 Stonesthroe/-2 Majesty/+2 Petulence, mountain exclusion
[roll1]

Petr(18 AP) - immortalise Nerassus (12 AP/8 DC) +2 Water/+2 Healing/+2 Moonpool
Ymon-Thal, +2 Life/+2 Death
[roll2]

Ymon-Thal (14 AP) - immortalise Thal-Verys (12 AP/8 DC) +2 Life/+2 Death
Petr, +2 Water/+2 Healing/+2 Moonpool
[roll3]

Avestra (26 AP) - convert 100k Indariel citizens to the Way of the Divine Owl (12 AP/8 DC) +2 Nature/+2 Birds
Timorin, +2 Drama, Foementer
[roll4]

Su'ule (22 AP) - mould the changelings into being (20 AP/16 DC) +2 Sorcery/+2 Monsters/+1 Birth
Avestra, +2 Foxes/+2 Fire, fox and fire affinity
Grawissen, +7 Again, object shapeshifting and camouflage
Timorin, +2 Drama/+2 War/-2 Fear, chimeras
Ymon-Thal, +2 Life
Yir, +2 Giant/+2 Majesty, coupling with giants
Petr, +2 Justice, legal system
Dulnori, +2 Ambition, ingenuity
Chern, -4 Decay/-1 Fermentation, infertility
[roll5]

Chern (22 AP) - tune the Tuning Trident (14 AP/10 DC) +2 Starry Crypt
Petr, +2 Water/+2 Healing, aquamancer use
Dulnori, +2 Ambition/+2 Fortune, shaman use
[roll6]

Timorin (19 AP/3 BP) - engineer the Mad God's Masquerade and Map (10 AP/6 DC) +2 Drama/+1 Games
Dulnori, +2 Fortune/+2 Ambition, mineral detection in masks
[roll7]
Secondary - sacrifice one mortal (1 AP)

Dulnori (32 AP) - send out the Golden Fleet (12 AP/8 DC) +2 Fortune/+2 Ambition
Grawissen, +2 Knowledge/+2 Architecture/+2 Heroism/-2 Unknown, smooth sailing
Timorin, +2 War/+2 Drama/+1 Games/-2 fear, mask communication
Petr, +2 Water/+2 Justice, aquamancy assistance
Kahar-Djin, +2 Paths/+2 Thresholds/+1 Travellers/-2 Explored
Chern, +4 Decay, lemons
[roll8]

Kahar-Djin (26 AP) - pilgrimage to the Lucent Archipelago (4 AP/2 DC) +2 Thresholds/+2 Paths/+1 Travellers
[roll9]

Yir (31 AP) - forge the Emperor's Peach (10 AP/6 DC) +2 Sun/+2 Majesty/+2 Giant/+2 Stonesthroe/+1 Perfection
[roll10]
Secondary - scry a state sized area (I forget which one specifically you'll have to ask Alex)

Nestellbam (26 AP) - no action

Opulon (50 AP) - no action

Vreyalas (50 AP) - no action

[Garjel_blah]

Chapter 2, Turn 3 resolution

Grawissen (4 AP) - success
Deja Vu is now immortalised.

Alatadriel (2 AP) - success
Rosalin Ravenhold was born to Magus in the likeness of her fox-like mother Alatadriel. Sitting with her pile of weapons in her Graw-kea palace with a baby terror bird and a little bandage on her arm, one could be sure that she was destined for greatness. With her ability to command monsters and produce primal Su screams, and her ability to kill and save once each in her lifetime, her power could be great indeed.
However, all this power could be averted. Not only was her "gift" from Petr always available to take away her gifts, but her connection to the Perch of Avestra and in-born aversion to the sacred Stonesthroe peaks gave the divinity in her soul a tenuous quality. She'd always do best with divine actions that applied to mundane matters rather than other divinity.
Rosalin, +2 Wilfulness/-2 Mundane

Petr (6 AP) - success
Nerassus is now immortalised.

Ymon-Thal (2 AP) - success
Thal-Verys is now immortalised.

Avestra (14 AP) - success
Faith in the Divine Owl soared in the Ebon Basin and Three Deserts, to the point where it was second only to the worship of Alatadriel. One notable exception was the town of Foementer, where worship of the Owl was in the vast majority.

Su'ule (2 AP) - success
The shapeshifting changelings came into being deep in the Gnaw Wastes, beckoned forth by their monstrous mother Su'ule. Their capacity to change was near limitless, be it living creatures or objects or a combination. They would have an affinity for fire, including fire dancing and the forbidden art of pyromancy. Though they're a different species, they'd be able to couple with giants, producing either giant or changeling children.
Though the changelings are long-lived and powerful, their birth rate is gradual enough that they don't outgrow the less powerful mortal species.

Chern (8 AP) - success
Chern's Tuning Trident proved a success, able to invigorate the growth of plants and fungus to supernatural speeds through contact with water. Third threshold Path of Squalor travellers, master aquamancers, and master shamans would be able to wield the trident, though they could leave it running indefinitely without further input. The trident could be destroyed by using it on the purest water, which can only be found in the Tabula Rasa, the river that runs through the Passing.

Timorin (8 AP/6 BP) - success
The map and its connected masks were successfully formed and distributed as Timorin saw fit. As mortals began to first use them, the empty map table began to fill with details based on what they saw. It would only continue to grow overtime.

Dulnori (20 AP) - success
The first foray of the Golden Fleet was a resounding success. Over many years, the primitive sailors would only grow in prowess, quickly dominating the West Axia coast and encroaching upon many other foreign shores.

Kahar-Djin (22 AP) - success
The pilgrimage of the Path Missionaries to the Lucent Archipelago was a success, and after politely declining the cursed Lucent Crown they set about teaching the Path of Wisdom to the locals.

Yir (5 AP) - success
By promising Pa'dowon status to all citizens of Theshana and conceding the return of their old lands, Valrion ended the conflict between the oldest city on Oerth and the grand Sugrandi Empire. In this way, the prophesy of enduring Theshana - that it would hold as long as the people held their spirit of community - began to unravel, for they were suddenly presented with a more attractive lifestyle. The Emperor's Peach would certainly persuade many.
If nothing else is done with Theshana before the end of the age, then the prophesy will be fulfilled.

Nestellbam (26 AP) - no action

Opulon (50 AP) - no action

Vreyalas (50 AP) - no action

[gac3]

Timorin 8 AP 3 BP
Twilight Isle:

Timorin gathered the corpses of his two dinosaur sacrifices. All that remained of them now was the bones. Carefully he cleaned them off in the coldest water he could find, hoping to use the healing waters Petr made so long ago to clean their souls of the stains he left on them. They had given their life for this cause, he could do them no less service. Timorin had come to learn that while killing for sport was entertaining, sacrificing something for a greater good is honor.

He removed the right arm of the terror and the right leg of the Ceratopsian and bound them together with his power before returning to the twilight Isle. Timorin gathered as many of his cultists together as possible. Though he wanted to do this in his sacred clearing, he felt that would be unfair to the newest members of the community. So instead he performed his ceremony on the beach where he first awoke so that pygmies, terrors, tongues, and ships alike could bear witness.

"Long ago I bound you all to the prophecy of the Lucent Crown. Since then you have served me faithfully. At the time, when few would visit and you were weak, the best defense was the crown. Now however, as we are becoming a part of the larger world, we can no longer defend ourselves with it's magic. We must find a new way. You are strong and we have made many friends but soon I shall be gone for a time and I expect you will also have attracted enemies and for you I am afraid. You are my favorite of mortals."

He pauses here for effect but none on the beach speak beyond the gentle sway and flap of the boats and their sails. Timorin raises the staff before him.

"So I give you this staff. It has been forged from the bones of those who have their life when I asked it of them so that they may serve us and protect us always. They shall always be with us. And so shall I always be with you. I shall add a piece of myself to the staff in order to give it the power it needs."

With that Timorin slowly and carefully brings his hand up to his face. Then deciding to rip it out like an arrow shaft, he removes his right eye as he lets out a massive scream. Panting, he places the eye in the staff which begins to glow softly in darkness. Timorin summons an eyepatch to cover his wound before returning his gaze to his people.

"Where did the rest of you go?" With a quick turn of his head he realized they were just in his blindspot. He hands the staff to the Masquereder of Timorin's Lust, who served as the de facto leader of the cult in his absence. "Try it out. There are minions who shall serve you. Summon them here so that I may show you."

One by one the Shadows of Timorin are summoned before the crowd. "You have the Shadow of Apathy. They shall help you go unnoticed by this great world. They shall aid you in your isolation. Welcome friends but remember to hide from your enemies and guard your secrets. Next is the Shadow of Fear. They shall serve you in scaring off your enemies. Whenever you need to intimidate outsiders, they shall serve you. When the outside world takes too close notice, let them feel the might of us united. Then the Shadow of Jealousy. This one shall turn your enemies against one another. It shall remind your enemies that they cannot trust the friends at their backs and while they are divided, we will be united. The Shadow of Grief. It will keep you grounded. Remember what you fight for and what you stand to lose. We are one and we feel each loss. So shall your enemies should they choose to act against you. You have the Shadow of Lust. Use this to unite our peoples. To strengthen their bonds. Use it to bring us closer to one another as well as to our allies and fill these lands with our family. Finally is the Shadow of Hope. This one has a duty to our dead but when you need it, they will bring us together and remind us of what we fight for. They will set us apart from the others for you now hold in your hand the power of hope itself."

Timorin turns from them. "I do not have much time remaining before the great sleep. I shall do what I can in my remaining time to find what help I can in your protection. The other gods will have felt this and some will try to stop its existence." With blood tears running down under his eyepatch, Timorin is gone.

Grawissen:

"Grawissen. I have given you masks and aided you in the creation of your pickaxe. It is time for you to return the favor. Before we sleep, help make my people safe the way I aided you in getting to this new home of yours.”

Ymon-Thal:

"I have given a gift to my people that shall impact your creation. The Shadow of Hope I have gifted you will always belong in the passing to help guide worthy souls to their next life. I am growing weak, only able to protect my people with a simple staff. If you are of the mind, they would welcome your help."

Avestra:

"I hope your people have enjoyed the masks they have been given and that we may continue our friendship. I know you have felt my actions today. My people know you to be an ally and will use what I have given them to protect and aid your Owls should the need arise."

Alatadriel:

"Oh mighty fox. I have given my people a gift to protect themselves in my absence. But know that we are not foolish enough to feel this meager defense could stand up to the might of you and your mighty empire. So do not fear that we mean to use it against you or to betray our history working together."

Su'ule

"My people have a high regard for you and your creations. We invite you to stop by the island and see how we have put them to use. Also I have made a magic staff for them. So if you deem it worthy, I know your power will be great."

Kahar

"Thank you for the gift you gave my people. Your wisdom is already a greatly cherished treasure among them. It shall be a greatly treasured tool for them moving forward. Since you have seen the wisdom inherent in learning to better use the first gift I gave them, maybe their next one can be served just as well with your wisdom."

Chern:

"Please explain to me how the path of Squalor works again?"

Yir:

"As you can see," Timorin points to the bloody eyepatch. "I do not share in your glory, magnificence and perfection. I could do well to learn from your wisdom and splendor but my people should not be punished for my lacking the perfection that you have."

Dulnori Braedon and Elkhoof:

"I have built a tool to help protect my people. I know you also have somewhat aggressive neighbors. You may use the masks to ask for aid from their new tool I'd you wish. It would also allow you to bring the shadows to the arena anytime you wish."

Petr:

"Oh great Petr. I know you don't always approve of what I or my people do but I have given much to try to protect them in our absence and with who their neighbors are, I hope you can see the need for such protection."


Create Greater Magic Item
8 AP 6 BP
DC 10
Staff of Shadows:
This staff creates a bond between Timorin's shadows and the user. It allows the user to control the shadows completely, second only to the control Timorin has over them. The staff is linked to the shadows in location as well as mind. The user can summon the shadows to anywhere the user can accurately see. Anytime five of the six shadows are in the same location, the user may use the staff to transport anything in contact with it to that location.
[B]Use:[/B} The user must be a traveller of the Path of Emotion.
The item can be destroyed but followers of Timorin may reforge it with the following ingredients: Two limbs taken from two different creatures who willingly gave their life and a single eye of Timorin. The eye of Timorin may also be destroyed and would take Timorin providing a new one to make the staff again. The eye of Timorin has no powers on its own.

+2 War
+2 Drama
+1 Games (shadow arena challenge will become a regular thing)
-2 Fear

[Godzillarich]

Grawpolis throne room
The king walked in, “Grawissen, we’ve nearly evacuated the entire city. All that is left is a few troops that stay behind with me, what do we do…” The king then stopped himself. On the floor he saw Graw skeleton broken into pieces. “GRAWISSEN!” the king yelled as he ran to his God. “What is happening to you?”

Graw barely had the energy to raise its head. “I have felt this pain... for a few years now... I thought it was the sleep was...taking me but it’s something else…. My spirit is breaking up... Soon to be dust in the wind.”

The king simply looked in absolute horror. “Wh...What do we do without you? We are nothing without your guidance.”

Graw simply shook his head “When I first met... you people so many... Generations ago...stronger than you know… smarter than you think… And braver than you can ever imagine…”

Déjà vu suddenly appeared above the King. “Dad…”

“Now, now my son...you can help… This world without me… All I ask is you continuing... to protect the week” he then turned back to the King. “Before I go… I will give you one last gift…”

With the last of his energy he helped fulfill his promise.

creating a create a magical item
Staff of Shadows
+ 2 knowledge: the staff will be known about far and wide. Making it an item of curiosity for the rest of the world
+ 2 mining: the staff creates a material called shadow essence, this material allows people to see in the dark
+ 2 architecture (pickaxe): the staff is beautifully crafted, almost looking like a staff royalty would use
+ 2 heroism: those who use the staff will gain great courage against the shadow creatures it summons making it easier to use
+ 1 writing: the staff allows people to speak to the Shadows directly.

And with that Graw’s head had fallen down and the lights in his eyes disappeared. All the gods could sense the terrible truth. Grawissen was gone.
500 meters off the coast of Grawpolis

King Ostrom stared off from the boat, looking as he watched as the city started to burst into flames. It seems like the evacuation was just in time. The king then looked down at the water below as he held the pickax in hand. “I have failed.”

Uyellic walks up to the king, “No you haven’t. As the whirlwind teaches us, you haven’t failed until you allow your dream to die. Do you still wish for the safety and progress of your people?”

Ostrom remained quiet and then turned to Uyellic. “If only if I was a better ruler than maybe one gets this point. After so many centuries I would be the one to finally lose our home.”

“You haven’t answered the question.”

The king got up. “You are right, I should at least make sure this trip goes smoothly.” He then put his hand on Uyellic “I thank you and your God for your assistance.”

“Your welcome. I couldn’t have done anything else, to leave you all behind would’ve been like giving in to death. My Gods wouldn’t have it. Now then, we must look forwards. Where are the boats going?”

In an ancient land called the tainted lands…” The king then looks down on his pickax. “... To build a new hom..” suddenly one of the ships was grabbed by a tentacle. Screaming could be heard from the other boats as more tentacles came out grabbing the other boats. “What is going on?”

Uyellic begins barking orders to his men, “It’s an attack by a sea beast. Cut it down as fast as possible, before it drags the ships under. Stab into the tentacles, make it feel pain and force it to retreat.”

Déjà vu appeared on the nearest guard. “Okay time for punching!”

“Who are you?” who are you?

“Fewer questions and more punching!” Déjà Vu yelled back

The king looked at horror at the situation. “No… It can’t be him. The ancient demon Leviathan.”

Uyellic responds, “Leviathan, what do you mean?”

“A long time ago our people lived in fear of this beast until one day our God ultimately banished the beast while saving our chieftain Morgana but with the bone God’s death it has returned.” the king then fell to his knees. “Without him what can we do?”

Uyellic punches the king in the shoulder, “Snap out of it. If your God isn’t here, then it’s your job to take his place. That’s what kings are for. Feel bad later, fight now.” Uyellic charges forwards to join his men, “GLORY TO THE DRAGON. GLORY TO THE WHIRLWIND. GLORY TO US.”

Déjà vu continued to attempt to punch the tentacle off the boat. “For something so squishy it sure as hell can take a beating!”

The boat started to be pulled close and close into the depths below. “If we can’t get this thing off it’s going to sink the Boats…” one of the guards yelled out. “... We need a solution now!”

King Ostrom down upon the pickaxe. “That is what kings are for… To protect when the gods cannot do it themselves…” He then walked to the edge of the boat. He looked down to the boat and saw the massive eye of Leviathan.

Uyellic can tell what’s about to happen, “GLORY TO OSTROM.”

“For my people, my lineage and the great God Grawissen.” he then jumped off the boat pickaxe in hand. “...I banish you back to the depths!” he screamed as he slammed the pickax right into the beast’s eye. A massive explosion erupted as the squid let go of all the boats. The squid screamed in pain in the water for a few brief moments until it completely turned to stone. It slowly sank into the sea, the monster was gone but so was the king. Floating on the surface was the pickaxe.

The Horizon sailors recovered the pickaxe and delivered it to the heir. Uyellic stays a while, “You’re father, was a brave man, and a true king. Our captain can recover the body with time. We can give it back immediately, but I’ll offer something else. My people have a sister tribe, who are great at preserving relics. They could mummify the body if you wish, give him a real hero's reward. What do you say?”

“Let the sea keep his body, but his memory will live on… In our history and our new city. It will be called Ostrom in his honor.” And with that, they sailed away to the tainted lands.


4 AP/2 DC: influence a large group of mortals (~100) influence a small group of people to help in the construction of a library for the Prehist people, in the new city of Ostrom

+2 knowledge: It will be the largest library in the world called the Morgana Institute, named after the great chieftain Morgana. thousands of texts from every inch of the planet will be brought to this great library. It will be the pinnacle of knowledge. From the magic to the paths to biology, to epics fantasy and scientific study.

+2 architecture (pickaxe): The aforementioned library in the center of the city, it’s walls painted by some of the greatest artists. Some of the greatest texts known to man and many priceless artifacts. It will be so big visitors would say it touches the clouds. (It doesn't just a cool saying)

+2 heroism: Additionally from works of knowledge it will also be the height of fictional writing, many great epics will be stored there as well.

+1 writing: The library will have amazing translations of almost every text on the planet. Making it much easier for people from around the world to understand and read it.

[DarthArminius]

Su'ule
"So, the user of this staff can only use it if they are a walker of a Path. I think that I can fix this problem. Let me help out, brother. "

An illusion of Su'ule appears. She enchants the Staff of Shadows through a puff of her breath. If the wielder of the staff is a master Su Sorcerer, they don't need to be a walker of the Path. In addition, those that are killed by the shadows become a shadow based on the emotion which was most amplified at death, or the emotion that they were most associated with in life. In addition, their power to conjure is also increased. However, too much use by wielders of the staff by those who aren't walkers of a Path increases their rebellious streaks and willful attitudes.

+ 2 Sorcery : Master Su Sorcerers can use the staff even if not a walker of the Path.
+ 2 Monsters : Those killed by the shadows become a monster based on the emotion they were either most associated with in life, or how they were killed.
+ 1 Birth : The power to conjure is increased by wielders of the staff.
- 2 Willfulness : Too much use of the staff by those who are not walkers of a Path increases their willfulness.

[Garjel_blah]

No Name Oasis

Three raptors and one human stood waist deep in the middle of the oasis spring, watched from the bank by thousands of sharp raptor eyes. The Tuning Trident hung in the air between them, prongs of stone and horn pointed up towards the sky.

The human was the missionary called Mila, only a third threshold Path of Squalor traveller but nonetheless the most knowledgeable of its sacred scroll. One of the raptors was Xcha of the 1st Squalid Squad, levitating above the surface of the water using his abilities as a legless fourth threshold squalid. The remaining two raptors included one lithe upright male missing both his tail and his left arm, and one stocky female with an intricately dyed blindfold tied over her eyes. They were named Qade and Ysma respectively, also part of the 1st Squalid Squad.

All four of these proudly wretched mortals formed the spiritual leadership of choblin society, being the ones most advanced in the Path of Squalor. They'd taught others to survive with what little food they had over the recent months, and treated their many wounds and illnesses. Even if they hadn't been the only ones with the ability to wield the trident, many would have agreed it fitting that they do so.

"All of us here," Ysma's regal voice resounded in the choblins' heads, carried telepathically across the spring, "have been through much since our bloody, quarrelsome awakening. Born with a curse, to be blinded by rage and alone against the rest of the world. Countless of our kin have died throwing themselves upon the spears of humankind. Even in our moment of salvation, we must never forget them."

"NEVER FORGET!" screamed Xcha. The assembled choblins echoed his cry, their bird-like caw travelling far and wide across the dunes. Ysma's voice continued.

"What remained of us was driven into the desert, destined to live short, violent lives and swiftly be forgotten. We stewed in our squalor. Until the saviour Chern came to us, all of us, one by one. He sacrificed himself - again and again - to show us through example how we may endure. Now together, in his holy bio-luminescence, we few endure still. And now, with this final gift, we shall not only endure squalor..."

Ysma fanged jaw snapped open rapturously, the stump of a sliced tongue flicking in the back of her throat.

"...We shall thrive in it!"

Amidst the cheers of the choblins, the Tuning Trident was telekinetically lowered into the single remaining hand of Qade. While the other three retreated back to make room, Qade twirled the trident, feeling its weight. Then, with a moment's pause to align everything correctly, he slammed the butt of the staff into the waterbed.

Immediately the outer prongs began to quiver, so rapid that appeared a blur to the mundane eye, while the central spike flexed and distorted in a stabilising rhythm. The water danced, a shock wave expanding out from the point of impact. Around the amberis shaft the water rose and fell like the tidal cycle sped up, beaten down by harmonics before rising back up again like a bulging bubble.

The effects of the magical trident were evident as soon as the first shock wave hit the shore. Undergrowth that had been beaten down by months of trampling choblins sprang back to life with full torpor, empty palm trees burst with fresh dates, and saplings shot from the ground like scattered crickets. Where there was glowloam the ground sank, visibly corroded away by the fungus' accelerated growth.

Qade released the trident, stepping away slowly through the drumming water. It remained upright, continuing to quiver away.

"It works," Qade announced in a low growl.

"IT WORKS!" repeated Xcha. With one final roar of triumph, the choblins set about harvesting the abundant fruits and fungi. For the first time in their lives, security was assured.

---

Mila sat in her palm-leaf shelter, scratching away at papyrus sheet with a fragment of charcoal. She lifted the Scroll of Squalor, comparing it to her scribbling. Satisfied, she rolled up her transcription with a strip of leather, carefully securing it in her bag along with all her other oerthly possessions. Mila almost instinctively reached for her crutch, but her fingers found nothing on the woven fibre mat. She gave a wry smirk.

"Every time..."

The missionary stood, brushing the charcoal dust from her cloth leggings. With a heave she lifted her heavy pack and set off for the door of hanging palm-leaves, her maimed foot no more of a nuisance than a faded, forgotten scar.

Qade and Ysma were waiting on the other side.

"There you go," Mila said in halting choblin tongue, and handed the original scroll over to Ysma. "Don't lose it, hah."

"Never," promised Ysma, speaking directly into Mila's mind. "Thank you for doing this, Mila. We would be loathe to part with a relic of wisdom such as this, but given that Chern bestowed it upon you initially, it would have been difficult to refuse had you wished to keep it."

"It's no problem, honestly," Mila insisted earnestly, "I've gotten everything I needed from the scroll. Really the transcription is just so that I can share its knowledge with others of my faith. It is just as much a relic of Kahar-Djin as Chern, after all."

"Of course," said Ysma, "we will not forget the service you nor your god has done for us."

"You shall always be welcome in Chobe," Qade added in choblin, inclining his head respectfully down at Mila. Most of the raptors were postured such that they were shorter than the human woman, but with his tail missing Qade bore himself more like a humanoid, towering above the rest of them.

"Thank you, from the bottom of my heart." Mila returned the bow. "It's been a privilege to be part of something so grand. A missionary's dream, I'd say! No matter the hard times."

"Remember, you are always welcome to stay," said Ysma, "we already consider you a choblin."

"No, no. I'd love to see you grow but... I have a home that I haven't seen in years. Now that I have the ability to make it there, I have to try."

"We understand." Ysma approached Mila, resting a clawed hand on her shoulder and gently nuzzling her blindfolded forehead against the human's. "May your spirit never wane..."

"And may the dirt rest lightly on your flesh," concluded Qade.

"As with you," Mila responded. "Oh man, I'm not about to cry am I?"

"WAIT!"

Xcha slowed down just in time to avoid knocking the burdened human off her feet, as he swooped in for a hug.

"Oh, Xcha!" Mila grunted, patting flying raptor's back. "I promise I wasn't going to leave without saying goodbye, I was going to search for you."

"You had better come back some day."

"Hey you're the one who can fly, you come visit me."

"Agreed!" Xcha broke away from the embrace, snapping to attention. "Mila, I want to say that not eating you back when I was consumed by bloodlust was the best decision of my life."

"Well, there it is," Mila said shrilly, "now I'm crying..."

After many more goodbyes and promises of return, with a full pack of dates and skins bursting with attuned water, Mila set off back into the dunes. At the peak of the highest dune neighbouring the oasis, she looked back on the burgeoning city of Chobe.

"Well. See ya round, Cherlie."

And off she went, a spring in her step as she followed the sun east.

https://youtu.be/CUjIY_XxF1g

[Maryring]

On the beaches of Sanctuary
The nips of exhaustion brush against the back of Petr's mind. It's a peculiar sensation. They don't get tired. Not the way mortals do. And yet something is definitely making it harder to be present. They almost forgot to manifest and observe the visit of the Golden Voyage. And even know, as they watch their son train on the beach, they occasionally zone out, listening only to the gentle sounds of the sea breeze, and the cries of birds as they swoop down attempting to steal the catch of the fishermen.

At least until the familiar tingle of divinity creeps upon Petr. The unmistakeable essence of Timorin. His hands dripping with essence wrought from bloody sacrifice. At least he had the sense to try and clean himself to make himself presentable.

Petr shifts their gaze from the sky above to the beach below. Where they see Nerassus eagerly running towards them with a mask in hand, and a sheepish looking Timorin following a few steps behind.

"Momma! Look here! Look at what Unca brought me!" The demigod grins happily as he presses the mask to his face, feeling it mold easily to his peculiar shape. He looks at Petr, giggling before lifting the mask up again. "Don't it look cool?"

"It looks great dearheart." Petr narrows their eyes slightly, glancing towards Timorin. "And knowing Timorin, it's probably safe. Now then, what can I do for you? And don't try to hide that staff behind your back dearie. The stench of blood on it isn't so easy to wash off."


"Oh great Petr. I know you don't always approve of what I or my people do but I have given much to try to protect them in our absence and with who their neighbors are, I hope you can see the need for such protection."

"Hrmf. Nerassus dearheart?"

"Yes Momma."

"Look at this staff. Tap into your ability. Tell me. What do you sense from it?"

Nerassus tilts his head in confusion. His eyes close as he mentally reaches out, before yelping in shock and taking a step back. "This was made from bones and souls? Unca, you killed for this?! That... that's no good. Do people know? People should know!"

"He did." Petr's cold glare gives Timorin a quiet admonishment that he is not welcome to speak right now. "You wrung souls of those who worhsip you for power. The power to do what you want. Not what your people want. What you want. You say you did this to "protect" your people? Look around you! See what I have wrought without demanding any mortal suffer and die for me. You want to protect your people? Why then didn't you come over here and bargain with the people of Sanctuary? You had options. Options you chose not to take. If you want this staff, let's see if you have the strength to make it work once I wholly cleanse the blood from it."

-2 Water: Petr will cleanse the staff of it's bloody essence, and curse anyone who wields the staff. They may neither cast, nor benefit from, Aquamantic healing spells.
-2 Justice: Those who hold the staff will always know exactly what went into making it.
+2 Flesh: Nerassus feels ill at the presence of the staff. He struggles to bring his essence fully in on the curse.



After their rant, the three are left in a momentary awkward silence before Petr gives their son a gentle push. "Anyway. I'll go check up on the docks. Nerassus why don't you tell Timorin about the idea we discussed?"

"Oh yeah!" Nerassus smiles brightly and turns to Timorin, grabbing the god's attention as Petr leaves. "Actually, we thought a little like you. Y'know. What to do when you guys go to sleep and such. I mean, I'll remain active apparently. But you guys will sleep. And that's when we had the idea. Practically bouncing on his feet, Nera gestures to further down on the beach where P'ua is teaching some of his students how to divert aquamancy from multiple directions at once. "See that? He's showing off his skill. And so the other kids learn from him. And he showed off to me too and I learned Aquamancy a whole lot faster than if I'd have to learn it all on my own. And that's when I thought. Wouldn't it be great if mortals could learn from one another?"

"I spoke with Momma about this, and we realized that hey, we have a lot of folks here on Sanctuary that can do a lot of clever stuff on their own. And Momma said that recently, there was this huge divine event or something... she was a bit vague about it. But either way, apparently there's a whole city out there that we can practically just settle in, since everyone up and left. So I'm gonna go there. Gonna grab some of the enchanters, and druids, and the smartest people I know. And we're gonna build a whole new thing. A univer-city. A city of universal learning and teaching stuff. Like math, and philosophy, and magic, and... you know. Everything! I'm still deciding on everything that should be taught but... oh here." He reaches into the ether, pulling out a small blue shell engraved with a strange green marking. "This here is an idea I'm pretty set on. I think that the learning should be for as many people as possible. So if you give that to one of your followers, that will let them sign up. Oh. But you probably don't know what that means huh... I'll make a proper list. Just you wait!"

6 AP/3 DC: Influence a large group of mortals (and also one very excited demigod) (~1000) Nerassus and Petr are going to inspire the people of Sanctuary to create the first of hopefully many universities across the globe.

+2 Water: Petr prepares the ground by creating a healing spring within Grawpolis. The spring will ensure that the city never lacks for clean water.
+2 Healing: Petr cleanses the land of damage done through war and pillaging, and ensures that the land on and near Grawpolis is fertile enough to feed students.
+2 Justice: Nerassus will become the first headmaster of the university, and will ensure a just faculty void of corruption.

Starting with Grawpolis, Nerassus will utilize the transmuters, enchanters, aquamancers and druids of Sanctuary to reclaim the abandoned city and transform it into a haven of learning. The enchanters will rebuild the city, strengthening her walls and defenses, while the transmuters will guard the university from bandits, mercenaries and incursion forces from The Empire. Meanwhile the Aquamancers and Druids will make the city self-sufficient. Once the city is well-defended and self-sufficient, Nerassus will invite teachers from all across the world. Primarily, he will be inviting teachers from Sanctuary, but he will also travel the world offering great thinkers an opportunity to teach a subject of their choice.

The initial list of subjects whose teachers all come from Sanctuary will be
Math
Philosophy
Aquamancy
Astronomy
Astrology
Agriculture
Druidry (Nature Magic)
Enchantment
Metal working
Weapon studies
Transmutation
Necromancy
Theology
Seafaring

Student body: There are three ways to join the student body.

The first and most common way is through the general application examination. A test designed by Nerassus, where the people who do the best on the test are granted permission to study at the university. The test partially evaluates the practical aptitude for studying, and partially evaluates skills in the chosen fields of study.

The second way is through wealth. A few slots every year are available for purchase for the highest bidders.

The third way is through a recommendation from the faculty. These slots are rare, and there may be years without any recommended students. But it exists, and Nerassus intends to use it to ensure that even tribes without any other hope of joining the university may still benefit from their teachings.

[Demonjazz]

Alatadriel, 2/50 AP. The Great Orcishtal Mountains, Ahorca, The Twin Furnaces.
Alatadriel had brought some of the best and brightest minds, and metal workers of the land to the Lab built onto The Twin Furnaces. The ten men and women stood astutely in front of Alatadriel as she held up a chunk of iron ore. "I'm sure you're all familiar with this ore. It's called Iron, and iron is much easier to work, can be more easily mass-produced, and if worked properly is stronger than Bronze. Yet for some reason, none of you have figured out how to make a fire hot enough to smelt it." She set the ore down on a furnace. "Okay, so. What are your theories on what fire requires to be hot."

Albert, the war maker of The Twin Furnaces stood awkwardly as he started to explain. "Well, you see, fire is one of the four elements. A metaphysical object so it requires-"

"Wrong! Next!"

Arsina stepped forward. "Well, fire requires a burnable substance and a large amount of heat."

"Good, good. What else?"

The smiths looked confused as Alatadriel pressured them into an answer. None of them seemed to be catching on to what she wanted. She let out a loud sigh as she brought out a candle. "You see, this is a burnable substance. Fuel if you will." She produced a small flame from her finger as she lit it. "That's our heat. Very good. See if the flame becomes too cold it will go out. But..." She took out a glass container and placed it over the flame. The scientists looked in awe as the flame sputtered out shortly after she put it over it. "And..." She waited to see if anyone could guess. "Oxygen! Air! Fire needs AIR! To become hotter!" She summoned more fire and flung it into the furnace with the ore sitting on top of it. She produced a set of bellows. "So you create this! See this, it's two wooden paddles with hide stretched between them. You use it to-" She blew the bellows into the fire causing it to flare up. "Causing it to become even hotter than it usually is so that iron can be worked!"
2 AP/1 DC: influence a small group of mortals (~10)
Alatadriel spends some of her last moments before the sleep trying to teach the smiths of The Empire how to work iron. +2 from fire.


Alatadriel looked unimpressed at Timorin. "If you're looking to flatter me, I'd appreciate it if you tried harder." Alatadriel took a long time placing a strawberry onto her mouth and carefully taking a bite and chewing. "I have... Mixed feelings on your cult, the shadows, and their dealings... But you know what I hate more than that? All that godsdammned lofty moralizing from that queen bitch of the waters. 'oh, look at me. I don't kill mortals, and I just sit on some big island that I made and don't spread my prosperity anywhere'." Alatadriel's impression was remarkably bad. "Don't even get me started on that naive little kid of hers. Filling him with all sorts of impractical nonsense." She carefully bit into another strawberry. "So I'll help you."
Whenever the staff is being used it covers the user in a protective circle of flames so that it may not be easily stolen in a battle. Also, because it looks really cool. +2 from Fire.

[Batcathat]

Ymon-Thal, 2/50 AP, Boa Jungle

It was a strange group, to say the least, Fadon thought for what was probably the thousandth time in the days since he'd met his new companions.

A few of them appeared to be fellow warriors, though clearly of a... rougher sort than Fadon himself. He recognized another from the Disciples of Thal, he'd seen a lot of corpse whisperers while guarding the Halls, and he could almost swear he'd seen yet another one lashed for theft.

As for the rest, he had no idea and none of them had shared much about themselves. Not that Fadon had been different in that regard, his only orders from the Council of Yith was to join the group and follow them to some specific spot deep in the jungle. They were almost at their goal now, or so the woman leading them had said at least. In Fadon's eyes she was little more than a child, but she seemed to see a way forward where the rest only saw impenetrable jungle.

Suddenly the woman in question signaled the group to stop. "We're almost there", she said.

Fadon looked from one member of the party to the next and found everyone doing the same. All waiting for someone to tell them what to do, what to expect.

"Let's go then", he heard himself saying. "No point in waiting around, aye?" He was surprised he'd spoken and even more so that everyone seemed to listen and start walking forward again.

Pushing through the last few feet of thick jungle, they came to a clearing, large enough that its other side was barely visable in the moonlit night. Fadon knew little of the jungle but even to him it was obvious that the clearing was no natural phenomenon, dead plants and trees lay thick on the ground, dead for hours at most. In the center of the newborn glade was a huge rock, twice as tall as the tallest human.

Suddenly a light flashed from the top of the cliff, blinding Fadon and the others. As he shielded his eyes he could hear the surprised reactions from the rest of the group. "What's that?" "Oh gods." "Hey, what's happening?"

The light started to grow weaker until it was not much stronger than a full moon, though still centered at the top of the cliff, revealing three people suddenly standing there.

"People of the Yith", one of them said. It was enough to recognize the voice of their god and Fadon fell to his knees along with every other mortal present. "You are welcome."

"Man, going through all that jungle. That's pretty cool", the other aspect of the Twin God added. "Congratulations!"

"You are all here for a reason. We asked the Council of the Yith to find us the very best and brightest."

"You're all real good at something."

"Indeed. Warriors and thieves, mages and travelers, talkers and doers of every kind." Thal paused. "You have been choosen and you are to chose others, equal in skill and devotion."

Again, Fadon was surprised to find himself talking. "What is it that you want us to do, great Ymon-Thal?"

"Didn't we tell them? Oh yeah... we didn't tell them that, did we?"

"Patience", Thal said, seemingly more to Ymon than to their worshipers. "What we want you to do — need you to do — is to act as our eyes, ears and hands in this world. Our presence here is fading again, it will be generations before we can walk among you once more. As we has already informed the Council, Thal-Verys will remain to watch over you and enforce our will. But she will need help and the ten of you are the first of many."

Fadon looked around at his new companions and again found them doing the same.

Thal-Verys stepped forward, dragging the sun that was lighting them all up behind her. "In the name of Ymon-Thal, the First Beginning and Final End, I name you...no, I wish to name you the Verysian Order and bind you to enact the Twin God's Will." She stopped for a moment, looking more nervous than one would expect of a demigoddess. "Do you accept?"

A moment of silence passed before the jungle night was filled with shouts of approval and acceptance.


Influence a small group of mortals to create the Verysian Order (2 AP/1 DC)

The following description is not as the Order is the moment it is founded but as it will be in the years to come.

Founded in the Second Age, the purpose of the Verysian Order is as simple as their ways are varied — they enact the will of Thal-Verys (and through her Ymon-Thal) in the mortal world by any means or methods necessary. Ever since their founding, the Verysian Order have recruited new members with skills in many different areas. Among their numbers are necromancers, path walkers (primarily but not exclusively on the Path of the Soul), warriors, con artists, strategists, assassins and thieves. Members of all races, sexes and origins are accepted — only two things matter: great skill and loyalty to Ymon-Thal and Thal-Verys.

The Order is not a secret, exactly, but they do not advertise their existence and prefer to operate in the shadows. Individual members often keep their membership a secret and it isn't possible to apply for membership — new members are sought out by the Order, never the other way around. About a fourth of the Order resides in their head quarter, the Hall of Verys, located next to the Landing, and act in an official capacity. The rest have other occupations but act as information gatherers and are ready to act at a moment's notice.

Although they exist outside of the official Yith hierarchy it is understood that the Verysian Order may act outside the law and with little consideration for anyone else, they have even been known to demand a criminal's release or even just broken someone out themselves. That's not to say they act unopposed but even powerful Yith individuals and influential organisations rarely dare speak out against them in public. Other nations are another matter however, although members of the order frequently travel the world they usually only gather information, acting only when they deem it necessary and in total secret.

Their leader is elected by all members and hold the position for life, adding an honorary "Verys" in front of their name (for example, "Adana" would become "Verys-Adana"). If the four members of the Council of the Yith become deadlocked and a majority cannot agree on a decision the casting vote goes to the head of the Verysian Order, who is not otherwise involved in politics.

[Maryring]

1st Justice University (ruins of old Grawpolis)

With a single smooth gesture upwards, the ground before Petr starts to crumble, before giving way to a fountain of fresh water pooling into an artificial lake already carved out by Nerassus in the hard dirt. The water quickly fills up, pouring out into smaller rivers that drift down through the ruined streets of Grawpolis. Nera himself peers into the newly formed pool, cupping his hands to taste the water. "Mmm. Fresh! Momma, why is water coming up though? When it rains, water comes down. So why is it coming up from here?"

"I drilled down to an aquifier deep below the surface of the land. It's a layer of rock that absorbs moisture, and the pressure of all the water from all over the land looks for a point of egress which causes." Petr notices the blank look of curiousity on Nera's face. "Erf, let's just say it's magic for now. I forget you don't have my eons of experience with the water cycle. And we've got so much to do before I sleep, that it's best if you consider it a puzzle that your university can solve."

"Okay Momma." Nerassus stretches out, yawning softly as he looks over a couple enchanters hard at work in carving symbols upon Graw's gravestone. "I'll miss him... he said I was smart."

"You are dearheart. And smarter still shall you be. With your efforts, the whole world will be made a better place in my absence. Shall we go over the plans once more?"

"Yes! Okay, so I was thinking of renovating the castle to be the primary structures for education." He begins drawing a map on the ground, gesturing to the circle of inner walls that make up the tallest part of the city where they are. "Everything within here will primarily be serving the various courses of education. I think if we convert these villas into dorms. We can refurbish the warehouses, build an attendant forge for the enchanters and metalworkers. About... here, I want to build a temple."

"For who?"

"You obviously."

"This was the city of Grawissen's people, and we are going to open it to people from all over the world. Is it fair then that the only temple belongs to Me?"

"Of course! We're putting in all this effort to help people. The least they can do is say thank you." Nerassus nods his head as he continues to draw in the dirt. "And anyway, it's not like people can't worship who they want. Also, we only really have room for one temple within the inner walls. And even then, it'll probably have to be the site for the theology classes."

"Are you going to have all classes done within the inner walls? You wanted to teach sailing yes?"

"Yeah! And... oh. Hrm. You're right." Nerassus taps his chin thoughtfully, then draws two long lines going out from the city's outer walls. "We'll need to create a proper dock area. And then set up a camp for education down here as well. I wanted to keep all students safe from potential bandit raids... actually, we'll want walls to protect the coast line anyway so we're not cut off from the ocean... hrm. Maybe a smaller shrine to you down there. A place people can pray and leave offerings for your protection as they travel the sea. Oh, we should have a garden in the inner walls as well."

"That won't be enough to feed just the students in the inner walls, much less the whole city."

"I know, but the druids need a place to practice their magic. Hrm. It could be useful to also learn about plants in a more mundane way. P'ua attributes a lot of his skills with healing to his understanding of anatomy. It'll probably be the same if we learn plants. You know, work with nature, instead of against it."

Petr smiles, pulling Nerassus against their side to give him a gentle, loving hug. "I adore your curiousity dearheart. In fact, I think I know who we might invite for that."

"The people of Crow, worshippers of nature who speak for the trees. Soon the 1st Justice University will open it's doors as a haven for education and growth. A place where the greatest minds of Sanctuary will share their wisdom. But for all their wisdom, few have as close a bond with the natural world as your kind. We wish to extend an invitation then. Those among you who wish to teach respect for nature, we welcome you. Those among you who wish to learn, we offer you these. Emblems of entrance. You may send six students of your choosing."

"I hope they'll accept. If nothing else, education here might help them defend from the empire expansion."

Petr nods, looking at the piles of engraved shells before them. "You have made no piles for the Sugradi or the Sinalese. Why is that? Shouldn't education be available to all?"

"Yeah! And that's actually exactly why." Nerassus nibbles his lips thoughtfully. "I know it doesn't make much intuitive sense. Originally I wanted. But then when we decided to create ways to join the university without invitation. And those ways are easier to achieve for the Sugradi and Sinalese. Their empires are wealthy after all."

"And it is just then to make them pay for those who are poorer?"

"I'm not making them do anything." Nerassus crosses his arms over his chest with a huff. "And besides. We pay the most."

Petr chuckles softly, reaching a hand up to gently brush Nerassus's cheek. "Don't get defensive dearheart. You know I only challenge you because I love you."

"Yeah. Well. Anyway, the observatory platform won't be anywhere near as good as the one in Sanctuary. That is a problem."

"I disagree dearheart. I think it provides you a goal to strive towards. That observatory was built by divine hands. This? This is built by mortal hands. Just imagine what you can learn as you aspire to create something greater than what the gods created. And even so, it's probably still better than any other observatory outside of Sanctuary. I'm sure the Starfolk will appreciate it."

"The university of justice, under leadership of headmaster Nerassus, invites the Starfolk to visit, teach and study at our observatory. We offer you these tokens six, from which your best and brighest may study freely within our walls. We hope you will share your knowledge of the stars."

"There's another tribe that lives in the Boa Jungle right? The people of big sister. The... yips?"

"The Yith. And they worship Ymon-Thal. Thal-Verys is more like what you are. A guardian and a guide for the people. Then again, maybe you'll find it easier to negotiate with her."

"The university of first justice will soon open it's doors. In representation of the bond of friendship between Nerassus and Thal-Verys, we offer you eight tokens of admission, so that you may send students to us and learn. We also extend this invitation to those among you who wish to teach."

"Oh, by the way. We should probably place the morgue and the observatory far from one another. The Starfolk and Yith have... very distinct views on how to treat the dead. In fact, you know how we treat the dead upon Sanctuary?"

"Oh..." Nerassus lowers his head sadly. "Yeah. I kinda... I mean. I hope it doesn't happen. But I'd be foolish to not plan for it ever happening. But what's wrong with how we treat the dead?"

"Nothing. To us. But the many cultures of the world all have unique ways of treating the dead."

"And they'll probably not like if we all send the dead to the same morgue... I should speak with those who'll teach anatomy. Help them set up a system so people can tell us how they want their bodies to be treated in the event of a death."

"I remember when I visited the Starfolk to spread some of the icewater lilies in the area, I found they have a peculiar method of burial that utilizes the glowloam made by Chern. And speaking of him, there are a tribe of... I believe they call themselves Choblins. I have promised to teach them Aquamancy. Now I think it wiser that we invite some of them here." Petr gathers up a tiny handful of shells, engraving symbols into each of them.

"In the past, you were promised the means with which to master the art of Aquamancy to help your community flourish. Today, that promise is fulfilled. These tokens will guarantee admission for eight of you to the First University of Justice. There you will be given the means to learn the art of Aquamancy, and then bring the wisdom back home. We also offer a chance for those with wisdom to share to come work and live at the university."

"I am pretty excited. We'll have people from all over the world here to learn. Even from the far off reaches of the steppe. It's a just trade too. I get to learn and stretch my magical skills in a difficult land, and they'll offer us their skills with hunting and their view on druidry. Did you know they call it shamanism over there?" Nerassus's face breaks into a goofy grin.

"The skill of your hunters, and the strength of will your shamans display is known even to the far reaches of Sanctuary. Your bravery in crossing the world with your fleet has impressed even us, and so we offer to the people of the steppe ten tokens of admission to the First University of Justice, led by Nerassus, demigod of Justice. We also invite those with the wit and skill to an entirely new adventure. Namely that of teachers and guards at the University."

"There's other people on the continent right? What about Teshana?"

"Last I heard, they've been made a part of the Sugradi empire."

"Oh... what about the Changelings then?"

"Yeah, we could invite some of those."

"The people of the north. Your sorcerous kin of the south offer you a helping hand. Those among you seeking to expand your knowledge beyond the arts of sorcery are welcome to study at the First University of Justice, under headmaster Nerassus. We grant you these four tokens, with which four of you are guaranteed access as students."

"Do you think we need to construct dorms for them? I've already put in designs for dorms to make them accessible for pygmies and their short stature."

"They're shapeshifters. It'll be simpler to expect them to shift into something more suitable for their temporary homes, than the other way around." Petr dips a finger into the pool of water, twirling it about to feel it flow about. Suddenly they flick a finger up, creating a small cloud of mist which they send to cool down the mortal workers in the city. "Anyway, we shouldn't forget the path missionaries. They may travel all over the world, but even they may find a benefit to learning here."

"Yeah. I'll go talk to Bron myself. If anyone knows who'd come here to study, it'll be him!"

"Greetings from Sanctuary Bron. I don't know if you remember me, Nerassus, but I remember you. I have created a place for people to learn and study. A bit like the schools you've set up for the paths. Anyway. My point is. Like any place of study, we need teachers and students both. So if any of the path missionaries want to come study, or even teach, know that they are very welcome. I'll even give you these emblems. Eight of them. Give them to someone whom you think would benefit from our university, as this will grant them guaranteed access."

"I think that's all the invites to be made yeah? Should we invite any of Graw's original people?"

"That is up to you. With Grawissen himself gone, he cannot do anything to help this place, and I think at least at first, the people will need to focus on rebuilding their home. But hey, you did want to expand eventually yes? Perhaps you can open another university there."

Nerassus lets out a deep, rumbling chuckle as he looks skywards. "Yeah. I think he'd appreciate that. A constant exploration of curiousity... ah, but we get ahead of ourselves. We need to make this place stable before even thinking about expanding. Gotta make this place stable, safe and self-sufficient and." A sound like that of rolling thunder or shaking earth echoes from Nerassus's waist. "And first and foremost. Lunchtime. I'm starving."

The emblems are a lot like regular shells with a green emblem on them. They've been enchanted to be somewhat tougher, but have no otherwise apparently magical features. However, as they're made by Nerassus, he will always know whom the emblem has been given to freely, and who has taken the emblem. A stolen emblem will never grant access to the university.

[The JoJo]

Juniper, Mogwan, Kanto Desert

Juniper waited with trepidation as the wood was piled under the pyre he was bound to. The mob of villagers gathered around him jeered, while the few Empire soldiers in attendance stood to one side, refusing to intervene.

For twenty years, he had preached in Al-Sinai. Foementer. Grawpolis. Along the Greater Orcishtal Desert and all across the Toran Savannah, with more than a few close shaves along the way. And now it seemed his end would be here. Some grubby corner of the Kanto Desert. The one consolidation was that his few companions had managed to escape before the mob had descended upon them.

"Light 'im up!" a young boy shouted, his eyes manic. Juniper turned his gaze away. He didn't fear death, knowing the Divine Owl would be waiting for him, but he had no particular desire to be burned alive. It didn't seem like he would have much choice in the matter, though.

He stared upwards as the flames began to grow, hoping that the smoke would suffocate him before anything else. It was then that he noticed a small raven soaring above him. It spun in the air and he saw that its feathers were tipped with silver.

"Avestra!" Juniper gasped. The avian goddess swooped down, perching beside his ear.

"Why are you letting them do this?" Avestra asked, tilting her head. "I could stop them. You know I could."

"It gave the others a chance to get away," Juniper said, coughing as the smoke began to rise. "Besides, I have felt it for a while now. Coughing fits in the morning. Blood in my mucus. Is it...?"

"It is true. You are dying, albeit slowly," Avestra said bluntly.

"In that case, I might as well end it here. I've done enough," Juniper said, gulping. "Just please, make it quick."

"You have earned that much," Avestra said, and with that, she took off into the air. She began to beat her wings, causing the fire to suddenly spiral upwards and outwards. The villagers screamed as the flames flew over their head, setting several of their huts alight. Then, as soon as it had reared up, the fire collapsed in on itself and ebbed away to nothingness. Several villagers fell to their knees, prostrating themselves before the remains of the pyre, while others stood by in shock. What was clear all present, though, was that the prophet Juniper was gone.


~

Avestra, Southern Kanto Desert

Avestra flew south with the air currents, soaring among the ashes of her late prophet. He had served her well, better than she had dared to imagine. Now, his soul would enjoy its just reward in the endless skies of the Passing. But his mortal body would become little more than dust scattered by the wind. Such was the way of nature, but she felt strangely compelled to do something more. Perhaps the tallheads were rubbing off on her after all.

She raised her wings around the disintegrating ash cloud and with a great gust, blew the dust particles to the four corners of the known world. In every spot where a speck landed, a small plant would sprout, which in time would flower into a nature spirit. The Dustborn. In this way, some part of Juniper would live on forever.

12AP, 8DC - Create a collection of lesser magical minions - the Dustborn, with +2 nature, +2 birds and +1 reproduction.

The Dustborn are a collection of reclusive nature spirits who emerged from the scattered ashes of the late Owl Prophet Juniper. They have an innate tendency to seek out spaces devoid of mortals, whether forest, desert, mountain or sea, and then carve out a home for themselves. They most often take the form of a diminutive plant, but can transform into shapes resembling animals or even mortals if they desire. Apocryphal tales have been told of Dustborn taking seductive forms to cause discord between mortals. They are capable of modest acts of magic and are especially adept at treewhispering.

Once embedded in a territory, Dustborn are very hard to dislodge and will cause all kinds of mischief until interloping mortals give up and move on. They can be benign or even helpful, however, to travellers who respect the environment around them. It is often said that they can be placated by releasing captive birds. Accepting the blessing of an apparently friendly Dustborn is considered a gamble, in any case.

[AlexanderML]

https://i.pinimg.com/564x/e9/c1/f0/e9c1f02ac473ec251b1d2df600637d3b.jpg

In a Village in the Tainted Lands - On the Day of Shady Dealings:

Graus had been a monster for as long as they could remember, someone separate from everyone else from the day they were born. It did not help that Graus only had their mother to be near most of their life, a woman that tried to give their everything to raise a healthy child. Graus did not understand what she went through to provide for him, could not love her, and felt no love from her no matter what she tried. He could not understand.

The other villagers tried to help at first, accounting Graus's behavior to a lack of a fatherly figure; but as time wore on the village as a whole slowly gave up on trying to help the child as nothing they did ever reached the child. Graus's mother and them became social exiles, no one wanting to talk to either of them. Graus did not notice this, or if they did, they did not care.

Graus was certainly the type to move on impulse, doing what came to them not thinking on the consequences. When punished he cried, thinking how unfair it was. When they turned six it just became worse as they became destructive. Though it was shortly after their seventh winter when Grau did something truly unforgivable; while walking near a long-dried well one day with their mother, screaming at them about killing or breaking something, they pushed her down the well without thinking about it.

While it took a while to sink in, for the first time Graus was actually afraid of the consequences of what he did, since he had no one to feed him. It did not take long for the villagers to figure out what Graus had done, and they had decided out of a mix of frustration, fear, and righteous anger to throw the 'souless monster' down the same well after they retrieved the body. Graus cried, but no one cared anymore.

Eventually they retrieved the body, and the child was soon after thrown into the pit with little ceremony, his cries being the only that could be heard.

It h u r t they were in the dark, alone, their body broken on the inside and out.

Yet when they were feeling cold on the inside and about to fall into a very bad sleep, the last thing to leave their tiny lips being a curse to everyone, they felt a warm hand rest on them from somewhere in the dark. Their voice was strange, Graus listened even as a tingling feeling went over them.

"Oh child you've fallen down. I'm here no need to frown; I'll be your friend till the end of your days, for we are just the same! Come with me, for I promise you, there is no need to feel woe. Soon you shall achieve your goal, soon all of them shall regret what they've done. Their pleas of despair being petty!"

As Graus was thinking about these strangely compelling words, in the darkness a purple haze appeared as unknowable words were spoken. However they roughly translate as:

"Shades and shadows are our hearts, we mold ourselves into them as they are us and we are them."

Graus felt themselves sinking like they were slowly falling into the darkness itself, but it was not bad, indeed it felt more like home.

"Now let's take you away from here, where we can have some fun, for we have a lot to do."
Just a post dealing with Varpier getting that kid they were promised.

[Godzillarich]

(This takes place right after the end of this age when the gods are gone)
The Tainted lands

The Prehist Council sat around a small wooden table. “It doesn’t make sense? Why were they there?” one of them yelled out

“I’m pretty sure we just got unlucky again.” Another respond

“For the 15th time? It’s like they know what was going. They know where the mines are and are taking them from us.”

“I would like an explanation for that.” The new King interrupted, Jeremiah.” it seems highly impractical they have spies this deep considering we came here about a month ago.”

“Then what is it? the gods messing with us?”

Déjà vu then somebody appeared on one of the council members. “I think I have an idea.” He then threw the mask onto the table. “I sense the same energy from this mask as I do other villages around this land. The masks are connected”

Jeremiah looked up at déjà vu. “So you’re saying this is how they’ve been spying on us?”

“Yes”

“Then that problem is solved,” The king said as he got up. “We simply won’t use the masks next time.”

Déjà vu then floated in front of the King. “What! They played us like fools, Stole what we found and you’re just going to let them off the hook.”

The king simply stared at him. “I do not want to give them the bad foot with our neighbors. This is a new beginning for people and I want to make it a peaceful one. There are other mines we can get anyway even if it be harder without the masks.” The king then started walking out. “That will be all…”
____________

Déjà vu float Above one of the councilmembers. “They can’t get away with this as the damn Empire did.”

The councilmember named Brutus stopped walking. “I agree…” He told the Phantom “and I have a good solution.”

Déjà vu raised an eyebrow. “And that would be?”
___________
A random cultist walked along the road away from the newly founded mine with one of mask in hand. “Those visitors are doing a lot good for us. I wonder what else they can fi…”

(POW)

The fist of justice came out of the Bush knocking the guy Onto the ground. “Thank you very much! The council member mumbled as he picked up the mask. “You take our mines we take your artifacts.”

And with that, both disappeared into the night.

The Mad God's Masquerade


The Twilight Isle.


A grand council of the Masqueraders has gathered


"Lord Timorin warned us that Ostrom would be hostile to us. His plans for our protection were well justified. Deja Vu is a powerful enemy and the shadows can do little to him. He has been crippling our cultists and stealing the masks. We must do something to show that even without Timorin's protection we are not to be trifled with." This was Timorin's Lust speaking. Here in the cult did not use names but rather the titles granted by their masks.


It was Chern's Grief that spoke up, being the final remaining mask on the tainted lands. "We have heard tale of a powerful artifact left by their god to help them grow. Since they have chosen to steal ours, perhaps we can steal theirs. If you send us troops, we shall steal this mystical pickaxe and show that we are not to be abused."


Much later the small force of transmuters have gathered on the tainted lands. Shifting their skin to camouflage and keeping silent as best they can, they sneak their way into Ostrom in the dead of night, the shadow of apathy helping steer people away from their path. As they approached the king's hut one of them whispers nearly silently. They need not speak loud as they enhanced their hearing for this mission. "Remember not to harm the king. We seek to send a message, not seal our death."


They sneak past the guards and into the king's hut. All is going smoothly as they claim their pickaxe and sneak out. They are nearly out of the city when things take a turn. They are spotted by a group of guards and a skirmish breaks out. They conquer the guards but lose Chern's Grief in the process. They transfer all their Mana into pure speed as they flee. They know not if the guards were left dead or alive. All they know is they have their prize and must return to their own lands as quickly as possible.


____

The council member Brutus ran into the tent. “Sir, what has happened?”

“They stole the pickax.” The king said as he walked back and forth. “This is not good.”

“DANMIT!” Brutus yelled out. “This must be retaliation for taking the masks!”

The King looks back at Brutus in shock! “YOU DID WHAT?!” The King yelled as he angrily stared with righteous fury.

“I was only defending our people honor,” Brutus yell defensively. “Our people have been walked over too much now. it was time to show them we are not to be trifled with.”

The king grabbed Brutus by the collar. “You have caused a catastrophic mess!” He then let go of Brutus. “Whatever this can easily be fixed we just gotta return the masks and they will return the pickax in turn.”

“You mean bend over backward again,” Brutus yelled out.

“I don’t want to hear it Brutus, I am your king and you will do as I…” For he could finish that sentence a knife went through his throat.

The king looked up at Brutus “Not anymore!” He then watched as the king fell to the ground.

The guards ran in. “What happened?!” As they saw the dead King’s body on the ground

“It was them!” Brutus yelled in furious anger. “They like everyone else mistreats us! Kills and take the stuff because were weak! Morgana, then Ostrom And now Jeremiah all ended the same when they tried peace...” He then pulled out his sword. “Now we will show them that we will not be suppressed anymore! TO WAR!”

[Godzillarich]

(The War for the Mountains, the tenth Year)
In the darkness of night, a figure shuffled from the bushes near the side of a mountain. The figure came to a cave it looked back and forth, surveying the area before entering. “Hello?” the traveler yelled. “I hope you had the good sense to come to this meeting alone.”

"Of courssssse," said the Terror as she stepped out from the shadows. Her tongue was forked and a strange rattling sound came from her tail. She was a transmuter. "I don't need anyone else to put you in your place if you betray me”

The Tongue smiled. “Brave, I admire that.” he then walked closer. His name was Paragon a general of Brutus’s Army “I’ll cut to the chase, I want to end the war. The King is mad, killing anyone he sees as a threat, I want to end him but if I do so it could end horribly for my people the Prehist. I need your people willing to sit down for peace as soon as I take action.”

The terror smiled. "Well since you all were the aggressssssors, we can easily back off to our defenses. We will hear what you have to say."

Paragon nodded. “All you people need to do is play defensively until I’m done the deed.”

"That is all we have ever done." With a wink she turns to leave
_____

Paragon walked into the throne room of the Mad King Brutus. The heads of various enemies sat upon spikes that filled the room. “Paragon what business do you have here?” Brutus yelled in anger.

“I have an important update on the culling of the cult. News that could even end the war.” Paragon step closer to the throne.

“Really!” The king got up from his throne. “I will might that b...? Before the king could finish one of Paragon’s horns went right through Brutus’s neck. “Ho..w….da..r..e..y….” And with that, he fell to the floor.

Paragon then proceeded to kick the body for a good 10 seconds. The war was finally over and nothing will ever be the same. The Prehist had new rulers, The Tongues

[Garjel_blah]

Chern, 8/50 AP, the Bog of Ruin

The god of decay spent more and more of his time in the diviworld as the age wore on. He'd completed his long walk, meeting some strange and wonderful people along the way - many of whom had then murdered him. He'd attended parties, founded a civilisation, crafted a tool of immense power, and even been on a date with a lovely mortal woman. He'd created the otherworldly hall in which he now resided, sitting slumped askance in the Throne of Rot and Ruin as unflinching and rigid as a corpse.

Usually Chern wouldn't permit himself something as regal as a throne. He'd only made this one as a frivolous gesture. But as the cosmos skewed out of alignment, and the god's time on oerth drew to a close, the Wiltwatcher found that these ruined halls served as a good place of reflection. Surrounded by the very essence of decay, alone but for the moist drafts and gaping leaks in the high-vaulted ceiling to whisper answers to his musings. How to balance care with the inevitability of suffering? How much was he, Chern, responsible for this balance? What could be done about the rest of the pantheon and their agendas?

Usually he was free to dwell on these things uninterrupted. However, even in this alternate plane of reality, he still felt the occasional exertions of the other gods. One in particular made Chern stir in his seat.


Chern:

"Please explain to me how the path of Squalor works again?"


Create Greater Magic Item
8 AP 6 BP
DC 10
Staff of Shadows:
This staff creates a bond between Timorin's shadows and the user. It allows the user to control the shadows completely, second only to the control Timorin has over them. The staff is linked to the shadows in location as well as mind. The user can summon the shadows to anywhere the user can accurately see. Anytime five of the six shadows are in the same location, the user may use the staff to transport anything in contact with it to that location.
[B]Use:[/B} The user must be a traveller of the Path of Emotion.
The item can be destroyed but followers of Timorin may reforge it with the following ingredients: Two limbs taken from two different creatures who willingly gave their life and a single eye of Timorin. The eye of Timorin may also be destroyed and would take Timorin providing a new one to make the staff again. The eye of Timorin has no powers on its own.

+2 War
+2 Drama
+1 Games (shadow arena challenge will become a regular thing)
-2 Fear


6 BP

"What..." Chern croaked, "is this?"

A vision of the staff flashed in his head. Two limbs and an eye, taken through the sacrifice of mortals.

"No... No, no, no..." Chern leaned forward, holding his head in his hands as though physically pained by what he saw. "How could one... No. No!"

Chern's jittery fingers flailed, locking around his right thigh. His head shot back up, neck contorting under the twisted posture.

"NOOOOOO! NOOOOOOOOOO! NOOOOOOOOAAAAAAR-RAGH!"

With a twist, a pop, and a crunch, Chern tore off his own leg. With shaking hands he released it, allowing the severed limb to tumbled to the floor at the base of his throne. Next, he grabbed his left arm in his right hand, at the bicep. Quiet now but for a few intermittent gasps, Chern pulled.

"UGH! Ah..."

Chern dropped the arm beside his leg. Dark ichor was beginning to collect in the seat of his throne. With his one remaining hand, Chern reached carefully through the right eye hold of his mask.

"You want... Death?" Chern gave one final grunt as he plucked out the glowing gelatinous orb of his right eye. He held it in front of his one remaining eye, glaring into it with a righteous fervour. "I'll give you death."

Hinder Timorin's creation of a greater magical item

-4 decay, as his hinder degrades the staff over time.

The sacrifices shall not end here. In his spite, Chern curses the staff to deteriorate as it's used. After controlling shadows for about a month straight, it will break and require reconstruction. This can be prevented by sacrificing a shadow, which will fully restore the staff's integrity.

---

Chobe

Qade turned the shell over in his single hand, examining in particular the green engraving. He set it down on the wooden table in front of him, and glared across at the other assembled choblins.

"No," he said.

"Why not?" asked one of the others. "This is a perfect opportunity to make allies."

"You seek allies in a fox's warren, mistaking it for a glowloam hollow," Qade explained firmly. "This university is part of the Inadriel Empire."

"It's not that simple. It's being built in the vacant city of Grawopolis, which was a vassal state to the Empire."

"Grawissen is weak," the tall choblin argued, "and I trust his kind scarce more than the foxes."

"But neither he nor the fox are the ones building this university. It may be in their lands, but the goddess Petr's people are the ones in control. She is a friend to the choblins, we have all seen this!"

The choblins murmured their acknowledgements and praise. Yet Qade remained unconvinced.

"I am skeptical of how much one can control an institution founded in another's land. If we must use Inadriel roads to reach it, or pay Inadriel tithes while we study, then are we not at the mercy of Inadriel?"

"The Chernway will connect us eventually."

"Eventually. The trident has forged us deep underground already, but Tria is a vast land. I don't think either of us will survive to witness it reach that far south."

"Sir." Xcha was hovering above the assembled choblins, near the ceiling of Qade's sandstone cavern office. "Until then, why not send me as a representative? It would be easy for me to fly between here and Grawopolis unmolested."

Despite the legless choblin being physically the most elevated in the room, Qade still found a way to look down on him imperiously. "Our only aerial scout? Preposterous. You're needed here."

"But think of all the valuable skills I can bring back. The choblins have a right to this knowledge. Remember, Petr promised us aquamancy, so I say we-"

A voice forced its way into the minds' of everyone present, emanated from the blindfolded Ysma.

"Why do you assume aquamancy will help us? Are we not squalid? Why heal that which strengthens?"

"Ma'am, squalor is our way of life. But living in a desert, surrounded on all sides by a tyranny of fire, surely the mastery of water is an invaluable tool?"

"Beware the tool that becomes a crutch, Xcha."

"Ysma is right," Qade ruled, "however, I understand that you feel a kinship with the water goddess, since you had the honour of petitioning her. You may attend this Justice University, but only once you have established a self-sufficient corp of other aerial squalids. This seems like a reasonable compromise to me."

"Agreed."

"Agreed."

"Very well then. Dismissed."

[Godzillarich]

Paragon walked with 100 of his best men into a grassy empty field. Paragon looked out into the distance. “They should be here soon. But remember to be on your guard.” He told his men.

Basalik, the snake like terror arrives with the Apathy of Timorin who carried the former mayor known as Apathy of Chern. They say nothing, chosing instead to wait for the others to speak first.
One of Paragon’s men brings over and put down a table. Paragon walked up to the table and put a piece of paper down with his mouth onto the table. “I understand it may be hard to let go of the pain of the last 10 years but I understand you do not want this bloodshed to continue so I ask we come to a new age of peace.”

Basalik looks around dramatically. "And where is Deja Vu?"

Paragon sunk his head. “We have not seen him for 10 years, no one knows what happened to him, the best I can guess is that he exiled himself in shame for being tricked by Brutus and leading to this war”

Basilik nods. "Then I suppose we man talk without him."

Paragon cleared his throat. “The treaty goes as such one all religions will be tolerated equally on the tainted lands, two Borders will be drawn to give each village enough land for farming and mining purposes, three there will be a central government for the entire continent made up of representatives of every village. The ones with the most power are the representative of the cult and the Prehist, and finally four the position of king will be dissolved and instead, the ruler will be a chosen by the ruling classes from said areas, this will make up a Council.” he then looked back up. “Is this satisfying for you?”

Basilik nods while listening. "So a council shall set the laws of the lands?"

Paragon nodded. "This is supposed to make sure we don't go to war again, have the power divided and interconnected with each other."

"So the council would receive taxes and run the army? Or would that service still belong to the individual villages?"

“Taxes and military shall be decided by each individual state, not by the Council.”

"Then what service does the council offer to us?"

"to settle arguments between various villages. The war started because of grievances between our people we need this in place to make sure it can be solved peacefully next time if something like this comes up again."

"So the council ssssserves as an intermediary and little more. This is exceptable. Speaking of such grievances, what of our masks?"

"The mad King Brutus, in his pettiness throw the masks into the sea. I am sorry about this" Paragon then sunk his head. "I also understand that a thief stole the pickax during the war. So much lost because of this conflict."

The three representatives of the cult eachange a look. "We had assumed the thief had been one of yours. I suppose perhaps it was not. There is one final issue to be addressed. Deja Vu."

“As I’ve mentioned before we have not seen him for 10 years.”

"Until he has made recompense, he shall not be welcome in any lands of the Cult of the Mad God, be it temples, our islands, or the villages we control."

"I cannot enforce that but I'm sure he will know, hopefully one day he can make peace with his past."

"You are his chosen people. His crimes against us shall be brought to your door to be paid for."
Otherwise these terms are deemed acceptable."

"Otherwise these terms are deemed acceptable."

Paragon nodded. "While we can't bring them here we promise you the day he returns you will be allowed to talk to him. Whether it be tomorrow or in 1000 years"

Basalik nods. "Thisssss is acceptable."

"Anything else?" Paragon asked

"I don't believe so. But know that we shall know if the masks are worn. We shall come to collect them, whatever means necessary." they then signed the treaty
“I’m glad this war is over.” Paragon then grabbed a piece of paper with his mouth. “I’m glad for this new partnership.”

The cultists bow and then turn away.

[AlexanderML]

Athala, Varpier, another Guest - Athala's Private Chamber - Midnight Chat:

Athala sighed as she closed the door behind her, stepping into her private room. Even on ordinary days being part of the Council of Yith was tiring and Ymon-Thal's new demands had not made anything easier. She mentally chided herself for being annoyed at her god, at having him speak to her in person. Such an honor, such an exhausting honor.

She remembered seeing the Yith council members as a child and thinking they were almost as powerful as the gods themselves. Now the demands seemed to outweigh the power by far. Endless meetings and barely enough time to practice her art, much less see her family or catch up on some much needed sleep.

"Satal, read me the list of things to do, please", she said to her bronze bracelet as she sat down by the table.

"Meet to council to discuss the search..." the soul bound to the bracelet began.

"That's done", she interrupted.

"I see. Then there is resolving the argument between the border villages, convince Asmon to support the expansion of the Disciples and..."

"Enough. I have to rest a little, please remind me again by midday."

"But ma'am" the bracelet continued "you still have an exalted guest to attend to."

"What do mea...?" Athala started to ask. Something was wrong. Satal had served as her advisor and assistant for years after his death and been her mentor for even longer before that, she could sense his soul almost as well as her own and something was not right. "What is happening?"

From the shadows of the room, clearly within sight of Athala, a tall cloaked figured appeared. It was gazing deep into Athala, the dark abyss of it's eye sockets judging her every movement.

https://i.pinimg.com/564x/e4/c2/14/e4c2148be1a10822ddcfd631487a705f.jpg With the nodd of the head it said with a distorted voice that was mildly nasal sounding as well:

"Please excuse the humor just now, I meant no harm. My greetings to you madam, I am the Guardian of the Lost, Varpier; and I am so glad the time has come where we can finally meet without interruption. Those men and women that work in the shadows made things difficult to arrange.

Before you ask why I have come know that it is to help you, you seem to use souls with naught but the dead, like that bracelet of yours. Tell me, am I wrong?"

Athala met his gaze. Many years as a necromancer had made her quite good at masking her feelings, a few years in the Council had made her an expert at it. “Greetings. While I do appreciate offers of help, I trust them less from someone who seemingly stepped out of the shadows to surprise me in my quarters.”

Varpier gave a bow, though never moving their gaze away.

"Please forgive me madam, but the Yith are no friend of mine normally. I'd wish not to be seen by anyone of them that I have not deemed trustworthy, and even then I wish not to extend this meeting for too long. While you may never understand, or at least it'll take years before you do, on this day it serves me to be honest and good towards you. Dishonesty would prove nothing but detrimental to me. So please, may you answer my question?"

She raised a eyebrow. “So in addition to showing up uninvited and unannounced you proclaim yourself no friend of my people?” Athala smiled. “You certainly don't make it easy to trust you, master Varpier.” She paused. “But my mother always told me that my curiosity and thirst for knowledge would kill me one day, and I have always done my best to live up to that prophecy. I will answer your question – yes, commune and cooperate with those currently in the Passing is most of what we do.”

"Nyehehe. Very good madam." He rubbed their chin a bit continuing. "I believe only one more question left for you, how many people have you brought back to life?"

"Back to life? None. I have bound many souls to many things, including bodies, but I wouldn't call that life" Athala looked at him, the magic she could sense from him was strange but some of it not entirely unfamiliar. "For that matter, I'm not sure I would call what you have life either, master Varpier."

Varpier placed a hand on their chest. "Ah, of course you would notice the necromancy binding my soul to this world, but do not worry madam, I was not speaking of myself. The processes that I discovered came far after I extended my life, and to place them upon myself would be far too dangerous, and come with costs I am not willing to pay."

Appearing clearing within the light, as if it was always there, was something that clearly once was a man but was now warped to the point of barely being recognizable. It's body functionally alive and it's soul bound with magics not known to necromancy. https://i.pinimg.com/564x/45/53/83/455383ea6931d2dfd65a0244f40874e3.jpg

"I was speaking more on people like this, whom are bound by my supreme mastery back to this world into living bodies. Granted Yilor of Westside here is an... extreme example of what can be done and took more effort than normal on my part, but he wished to fly even knowing the costs. People like him are stable, requiring no mana on my part to continue existing, though the spells that bring their soul back steal the ability for them to generate mana and the transformation has a few other side effects that shorten the lifespan of their new bodies even with proper care. All things I shall fix in due time, or maybe you will be the one to further these discoveries?"

Reaching into their robes they brought out a bronze slab dotted with minuscule script. Lightly tossing it in the direction of Athala.

"Nyehehehe, this should contain the beginnings to my research, though it is maybe beyond your normal scope of study I suggest reading it and putting it into practice. While it requires too much skill to be practical for anyone but people like me or you, with more work this field of study has so much potential, to save those that would eternally be robbed."

Part of Athala was horrified at the creature she saw. But at least for the moment, it was overshadowed by the part of her who wanted to know more. "Intriguing. Assuming it is more than an illusion, of course." She looked away from the image and met Varpier's eyes again. "I am an old and impatient woman, master Varpier. Get to the point, what do you want?"

Yilor made a small huff or chuckle noise when Athala mentioned him, scratching the ground a bit to indicate he was real. When Athala finished talking the air around Varpier became lighter as they laughed with joy.

"Nehehehehahahah! You've already- nyehe- given it to me madam. That barely works, but it is enough, so I give my thanks to you Athala."

They began to speak in the language of magic, though only the divine and masters of Su would understand it all.

"Shades and shadows are my heart, I mold us two into them as they are us and we are them."

Varpier and Yilor stepped into the shadows and began to slide into them, Varpier continuing to make a 'nyeh' here and there. Though before his mask faded into the shadows he stated.

"Thinking on what you said madam, I suppose I actually would want you to read what I have given you, for in it is perhaps a cause for others even I can agree with."

After the man had faded away – and Athala had twice checked that no one else was hiding in the shadows – she placed the bronze slap on her table and started studying it.

[AlexanderML]

Timorin 8 AP 3 BP

Yir:

"As you can see," Timorin points to the bloody eyepatch. "I do not share in your glory, magnificence and perfection. I could do well to learn from your wisdom and splendor but my people should not be punished for my lacking the perfection that you have."


Create Greater Magic Item
8 AP 6 BP
DC 10
Staff of Shadows:
This staff creates a bond between Timorin's shadows and the user. It allows the user to control the shadows completely, second only to the control Timorin has over them. The staff is linked to the shadows in location as well as mind. The user can summon the shadows to anywhere the user can accurately see. Anytime five of the six shadows are in the same location, the user may use the staff to transport anything in contact with it to that location.
[B]Use:[/B} The user must be a traveller of the Path of Emotion.
The item can be destroyed but followers of Timorin may reforge it with the following ingredients: Two limbs taken from two different creatures who willingly gave their life and a single eye of Timorin. The eye of Timorin may also be destroyed and would take Timorin providing a new one to make the staff again. The eye of Timorin has no powers on its own.

+2 War
+2 Drama
+1 Games (shadow arena challenge will become a regular thing)
-2 Fear
http://victoriousvocabulary.tumblr.com/post/17481733579/harpy-noun-1-greek-mythology-winged-spirits

Light flooded the area around the god and his spectators, at first it was the harbinger of a pleasant spring meadow atmosphere, but as it quickly dissolved into the brutal weight of the desert. The sun above shook with the rage it held with every word it spoke down to the wicked godling Timorin.

"You DARE use your OWN FAULTS as an excuse?! You pathetic creature! Your faults are of your own making and you shall be punished accordingly; the fact that you know about them and yet STILL continue this path of DAMNATION cannot be accepted! You are not like the Beast who is ignorant of the world, and you are not like the Builder who cannot see from right or wrong, you are EVIL for you choose this path on your own informed will!"

"You misunderstand me oh great Yir. I do not try to excuse my actions. I am a young god, barely 700 years of age. I am too close to mortals themselves and still too flawed. I do not have your experience or might to help guide me. I am trying to do right by my people but I lack the wisdom of one as old and wise as you. I offered up my own eye because of the shame I felt for not being able to do better. I am merely trying to rectify the mistakes I have made to these people before the last sleep. I come not to make excuses but to ask for mercy on my unworthy soul and for guidance in how to embrace your might and magnificence. For who could truly help guide me more than the great sun"

"YOU were the one that ACKNOWLEDGED your wrong! I did NOT have to judge you for you to KNOW ALREADY that what you were doing was WRONG. That choice, that knowledge of what is right and good and choosing to commit wrongful acts is what is EVIL! I condemn your creation to the darkness! I condemn those who'd employ it's wicked power to darkness! By my absolutely perfect judgement ALL shall condemn this wicked creation and those that are pathetic enough to employ it's power! If you dare to think that redemption is an option for a greedy and pathetic spirit such as yourself, do not even contemplate using such dark means of power again, for I will not be as merciful as this time.

... Though if your words are not just l i e s then you may find the Light Below to hold your redemption within clairvoyant reach."

+2 Sun: Yir curses the staff to instantly be targeted by a massive solar blast that can cut over ten feet into solid stone any time that it enters the sun-light. This curse extends to any wielders of the staff, though it wears off a month after the wielder stops using, touching, and looking at the staff. The curse automatically renews if the ex-wielder breaks any of the above rules of distancing themselves from the staff, even if they had waited out the month before.

+2 Majesty: Those that dare wield the wicked staff feel the unholiness of it, not even Timorin's own can ever feel proud using the staff and those that have knowledge of anyone using the staff instantly become uncomfortable around them at best (if they are friends) or hostile (if a stranger). This effect only applies if these non-wielders learn of the use of the staff somehow, and is less troublesome the more the person learning about staff's usage lives away from the sun's light (the choblins are pretty much unaffected by this).

[DarthArminius]

Su'ule

The Sacred Caves
Suddenly, within the sacred caves, a manifestation of Su'ule's favor came over a small crowd of powerful Su Sorcerers. They were asleep, taking care of the new born infants born there. They all had the strong desire to travel throughout the mortal world, attempting to teach people of the favor and love of Su'ule. These ten powerful magic users would begin to spread the word of Su'ule's philosophy of peace. Keep the peace between all living creatures, natural or unnatural whenever possible.


-2 AP out of 2/50.
= 0 AP
+2 Sorcery : The ten mages would learn magic quickly.
+2 Monsters : Monsters would have a small aversion towards causing them harm.
- 2 Willfulness : Despite being drawn to do what Su'ule wants they don't always have the right idea of how to do it.

[Garjel_blah]

Years passed in the No Name Dunes. The fledgling city of Chobe expanded beneath the ground, tunnelling out around a deep central sinkhole that neighboured the original oasis settlement. The freshwater spring lake remained on the surface, now called the High Lake, but trickled down into the sinkhole through a sandstone channel. The waterfall crashed down into another lake at the bottom of the sinkhole, the Low Lake, from which wide canals fed into the ever-lengthening Chernway. The Tuning Trident loomed in the centre of the Low Lake, continuing to throb its power out to the glowloam at the ends of the Chernway.

The choblins continued to live in the oasis, now called High Town, but as the sinkhole deepened more and more choblins moved into the cracks and hollows in its cliff-like walls. Walkways were carved, bridges and ladders strung up, until a bustling vertical forum had been strung up around the waterfall. This was called Low Town. Being better defended, the choblins' leadership resided in Low Town, along with many of the high threshold squalid, who had abilities that made living in such precarious infrastructure more comfortable. Those left in High Town lived much as they had always done, growing food for Chobe's stores.

Already, it seemed, choblin society was beginning to fragment into disparate classes. The upper class Low choblins, and the lower class High choblins. This came not without criticism from those who better understood Chern's creed, but power is a difficult thing to disassemble.

In other news, a second generation of choblins was being hatched and raised in Chobe. Though they were small, it quickly became apparent that the bloodlust of their parents would eventually manifest in them too. It was a source of grief among the choblins; how would their descendants fare without the direct intervention of Chern? The answer came one day, near the end of the celestial alignment, when Chern visited them one last time.

Chern, 8/50 AP, Chobe

A scream resounded through the field, as an elderly choblin man fled down the sandy path. Behind him, an adolescent female stood over the dying corpse of her father, the bloody remains of his jugular hanging from her jaws. Frenzy flitted about in her eyes, barely aware of the horrid deed that she had just carried out. She searched only for more prey...

Aerial squalid soon arrived on the scene, circling above the adolescent as she attempted to leap and claw at their guts.

"What do we do?" asked one of them. "Xcha isn't here, we can't use aquamancy to sooth this wretch."

"Useless cowards..." Into the fields stalked Qade. The tall, tailless choblin had bedecked himself with a golden amulet symbolic of his leadership, excavated in the tunnelling Chernway. He glared at the rabid young choblin in front of him. "Kill her."

The squad of aerial squalid exchanged looks.

"Sir, but-"

"Are you questioning a direct order?"

"No sir."

The adolescent flicked blood and drool too and fro as she tracked the multiple flying choblins, who had begun to close ranks around her. As her back was turned, one of them seized the opportunity, swooping in for a slice to the throat.

"STOP!"

The aerial squalid broke off in shock, as the murdered choblin stirred. The corpse nuzzled the soil with frail movements, pulling out a white mask from beneath the earth. He placed the mask - a raptor fit - over his face, and slowly pushed himself upright. Blood still spurted from the gaping wound in his neck, but his eyes glowed a mystical yellow.

"Chern..."

Qade lowered himself into an uncertain kneel, while the flying choblins bowed. The frenzied girl, on the other hand, went for the possessed corpse with a rabid snarl.

"Not this time," Chern gurgled through the corpse's mouth, grabbing her by the throat and slamming her to the ground behind him. "I wish I could help but, glug, it's time for others to shoulder that burden."

Chern shifted his grip to the stunned choblin's tail, and began to drag her behind him, walking right past Qade and on to the High Town square.

"Follow me."

Hundreds of other choblins were passing through the square when Chern showed up. Instantly recognising those eyes, they prostrated themselves before their god. They were surprised when they saw him deposit a snarling and squirming adolescent on the dirt in front of them.

"I have been observing you," he said, without preamble, "all of you. And I am afraid, glug, that you have lost your way. Your society is already devolving into hierarchy. You, slurp, so-called High Towners toil for the so-called Low. And now, in your child's moment of need, they come up here to put her down."

Chern gave a few drawn out gasps, allowing his body to recover. The rabid girl tried to slink away, but he stomped on her tail, pulling her back with a squeal. He turned slowly to face Qade.

"I am disappointed," he said, unmistakably aimed at the jewelled choblin, "You, who I pulled back from the brink of self-gasp-annihilation. You would abandon your own so easily?"

"B-b-but my god," Qade stammered, "how can we do for our own what you did for us? We are weak mortals, we can only take so much-"

"You are squalid." Chern yanked the girl upright by the back of her neck, and pushed her towards Qade. "Behave like such. You can save your own from the bloodlust, just as I did. Now fight this wretched girl. Fight until she regains her control. Do not kill her, of course, but do not die yourself. You must retaliate if need be."

With bare seconds to compose himself, Qade dropped into a combat stance. A space was cleared around him and the girl in the middle of the High Town square. Almost at that same moment, not standing on ceremony, the girl attacked.

The sun moved through the sky, counting out the minutes, then the hours that the fight lasted for. With his supernatural ability and years of training, Qade easily frustrated the rabid young choblin, but exerting himself for so long caused even him to make mistakes. One poorly place block, and the girl had her mighty terror jaws around his one remaining forearm. Qade screamed as she rent at his arm, stripping scaled skin and flesh down to the bone. With a kick he forced her away, leaving his last arm hanging mutilated at his side.

A fury of his own entered Qade's eyes. As the girl rushed back in to resume her attack, an unseen forced halted her in her tracks. Qade's squalid telekinesis seized her by the tail, and now, bolstered by his new injury, he managed to lift her bodily into the air. The girl writhed and screamed as she floated in front of the injured choblin leader, first in anger, then in pain as her body was pulled taut. With his own hiss of rage Qade tore the tail from his opponent's body dropping her two halves to the floor with a bloody thud. A moment later he collapsed.

It seemed, however, that Qade had accomplished his task. The girl lay curled on the floor, rage gone from her eyes. Pain and sadness were all that remained.

"Father..." she moaned. "What have I done?"

A shadow appeared above her. A yellow eye'd shadow, blocking out the light of the sun.

"Child," said the shadow, "there is nothing that can be done to bring your father back. He died so that you could learn to live. But, glug, there is still something you can do for him... For his next life."

Influence about a thousand of the High Town choblins, along with Qade and some other Low Towners (6 AP/3 DC)

+4 decay

Chern will impress three important traditions upon the choblin population.

The First: the tradition of the Maiming. Young choblins that have not yet overcome their bloodlust will face one of the squalid in single combat, just as Chern faced the first choblins back when they were first created. They will fight until the bloodlust has dissipated from the youth, and any injuries sustained in this combat will set them down the Path of Squalor.

The Second: the tradition of the Memory Mask. Chern will instruct that the body he possessed be buried in a starry crypt, in the same way the Starfolk do. Special variants of the Chern mask will be used to fit raptor faces.

The Third: the tradition of Chobe. Chern has reminded his choblins, in particular their first leader Qade, that they are to live as equals. Hierarchy shall not be tolerated in Chobe. No choblin is ever to oppress another of their kin.

[flyinglemur]

-The Staff
Elkhoof walked into the tar pit, and gave Dulnori a poke, “You were ignoring me so I let myself in, I need you to ...” Dulnori interrupts him, “I already know. Just go, I’ll deal with this request.” Elkhoof walks off content.

Dulnori floats up for a moment, thinking. He can feel the stain on Timorin’s creation. He sees the sacrifice, the deaths of the two converts, and he thinks.

“They gave up their lives freely, those poor fools, those terrible fools. They should never have been asked to, but even still, they chose their own deaths. And my family isn’t clean when it comes to this, so I guess there is precedent. I suppose I have no reason to object here, to waste this chance would be to kill them again.” With that Dulnori sinks again into the tar.


+2 Ambition: The bearer of the staff will be filled with resolve. They have the chance to build on the bones of the deceased, to forge a brighter future. They will not throw this chance away.
+2 Fortune: Like the masks the staff can be used to see beneath the earth, in search of precious metals.

-The School
Across the sea, a group of laborers is hard at work putting together the foundations of the university, when suddenly they feel a strange gust of wind. They look up to see nine golden dragons, and one very shaken warrior, flying down to the ground. One dragon approaches a worker, stares at him for a moment, and says, “Hello, we’re here for the school.”
“What,”
“You know, the school. We were told we could learn things here if we taught things here, and teaching is what a golden dragon does best.”
“Um, the school isn’t built yet, we still gotta finish the walls, and the temple, and the farms aren’t even close to done …”
“Oh that’s easy for a golden dragon, we’ll just force grow a quick crop, let it seed the soil and then kill it as fuel for the next generation, starting the process right.”
“And how would you do that?
“Why we’re shamans of course, better than anyone except Braedan himself.”
“What’s a shaman?”
“... You guys really do need our help. In any case there’s one other thing I need to ask you,”
“What’s that?”
“Can we have Graw’s body?”


Nine golden dragons have arrived, to take their fill of knowledge, and teach shamanism. Plus a single warrior, both as student and teacher of the spear arts, that is both spear hunting and martial techniques, using the javelin and amentum. No steppe student or teacher recognizes the title druid, which they will always call shaman. The golden dragons try to drill this into the brains of their students, if someone outside the Horizon calls themselves a shaman, you can probably guess who taught them.

+2 Ambition: The golden dragons encourage and cultivate excellence in their students. Their assignments are difficult, but they are always done with the purpose of improving the students. The golden dragons want only student success and, recognizing how hard their classes are, will allow ample opportunity for failed students to retake the course. As a bonus, the golden dragons will take any student who so wishes it back to the steppe for the full training experience.

+2 Fortune: The Golden dragons are masters of fate, and with Dulnori’s blessing, the school shall be very well stocked. Equipment will work better and break less easily than it should, and the school’s fields shall grow considerably under the care of the dragons. They also brought their own lunch with them, a few breeding pairs of terror birds for the school to do with as it wishes.

+1 Dreams: The golden dragons give lots of dream homework. This allows them to replicate steppe conditions, allowing the golden dragons to teach closer to how they’re used to.

Additionally to all this, the golden dragons humbly request Graw’s body, to be preserved by the Aeons. This isn’t required for them to teach at the school, it’s just a request.

-The Eternal Arena
It was a few days after the staff was created, and it was a time of true joy for the Horizon. Elkhoof had decided to call the Miracle Games early in as a massive celebration. The Golden fleet had returned triumphant, barring Uyellic who chose to stay behind in Ostrom, and the sailors were recalling their tales for the audience, wowing them with strange stories of exotic wonders and terrible battle with the dread Leviathan. On stage was Braedan. He was the pride of the Horizon, a shaman of truly stellar capacity, the direct descendent of the first Aeon chieftain Gravirr, and now the hero of the Golden Fleet. He had just finished a story about a strange city in the sea filled with sorcerers, when Elkhoof suddenly stood up. He walked down into the middle of the Arena, a strange unplanned event, the hunt was supposed to happen after this. Dulnori watched on from his usual spot, intrigued. Elkhoof approached Braedan, and began to speak:

“People of the Horizon, today is a special day. Together we have accomplished something truly fantastic, and we’ve shown the whole world our strength. But that alone isn't enough. You’ve all heard now of the wondrous things outside our lands, and we can’t simply allow ourselves to fall behind. We shall make wonders of our own, wonders so grand all will marvel at them. I’ve spent a long time thinking about this, and I’ve decided it’s finally time to build a city. This place shall be our capital, the greatest stronghold anywhere in the world. I dub it Rokanon.”

The crowd cheered. “I’m not here only for that though, I’m here to speak about the great man before me. Braedan comes from a great and honorable lineage. His ancestors have been the tribe’s greatest shamans for 700 years. The kings have always depended on their guidance, and I am no different. He has supported me all my life, though my family wronged his when our nation formed, and more faithfully than anyone. He traveled the whole of the world, across the treacherous sea and against rain and storm, leading our people things never even imagined. He has always kept the word of the Dragon and the Whirlwind, never straying from our traditions or abandoning our dreams. He’s an ideal to aspire to. Well then, what does a hero like that deserve. He deserves only the best in life, only the highest of all things,” Elkhoof turned around to face the hero, “Braedan, you’ve done more for me than I could ever repay. You deserve the whole world, everything under the stars. And while I can’t give you that, I can give you this piece of it. You deserve to be a king Braedan. Will you marry me?” Braedan had waited a long time for this, and had nothing to say but, “Yes.” The crowd cheered once again, and the rest of that day would be the biggest wedding party the steppe would ever see. It’s said that Dulnori cried bronze tears.

-

A few days later, Elkhoof and Braedan were in the emerald castle. It was a nice spot for a honeymoon, far from the crowds and politics, and Dulnori had let them alone for the time. But now, Dulnori had returned, and approached the two men looking more somber than usual. He calls Elkhoof over to speak with him privately, “You have far surpassed my expectations, all the tribe has. You’ve done so much, even though I gave you so little. My strength is waning, but I still have just enough power to fuel this project. Consider it a wedding gift.” Dulnori focused his power, “I am the maker of dreams. I am the master of fortune. I am the creator of ambition. I control the tides of fate. By my power I guarantee Rokanon. This city shall be like no other. It shall be a city of greatness, a city of glory, a city of iron and steel.”

Elkhoof rolls his eyes, “So exaggerated. Dulnori just wants me to put more attention on him, instead of the one who really needs it,” he thinks.
Dulnori looks at him, “This shall aid in the construction of the city. However, there is something important you must know, before the Horizon Tribe spreads outwards. The foreign gods are a strange lot, but they are not cruel, on the whole. You shall meet their people in the future, and you may even pay them homage, if you truly think it helpful. But there is one, one single individual, that I need you to be wary of.”
Elkhoof replies, “Oh really now, are you sure you're not just jealous? Were they the one that took that Aeon girl? You probably hurt her a lot with your stunt you know.”
Dulnori replies, “That was a mistake dammit. And no, no it isn’t them. Ymon-Thal isn’t evil, just strange. I’m serious though. There’s a demon of fire that calls himself Yir. He lives on the sun, and thinks he’s the greatest being in creation. He wants to take control of the world, and force it to obey his ideas of purity and perfection. His son is the king of the giants, and wants to use them as pawns to conquer everything.”
Elkhoof is unimpressed by this seeming melodrama and says, “Oh really then, a big bad fire demon. What’s to say it’s not just some pushover, why should we worry,”
“You don’t believe me. Then I will show you,” Dulnori conjures the image of Yir, and recalls his past actions. The conquests of the giant empire, the dark curse upon Thal-Verys, and of course Theshana. The city surrounded and bled dry for 700 years, until it finally gave in, the sacred word of the Dragon spat upon.
“Do you understand now Elkhoof? The hatred, the arrogance, the cruelty. Yir thinks it’s above everything, but it isn’t. It’s a brutal creature, and it will lash out if denied.”
“Well what can we do?”
“Yir’s son is focusing on the east now, the ripest and most obvious territory for conquest. By the time Yir’s forces turn their attention here, the Horizon Tribe shall be ready, so long as you continue to build and improve. Keep the giants at arms length always, they’ll try to manipulate you, and you can’t let that happen. Yir can never own these lands, he doesn’t deserve to be king. He doesn’t deserve to rule a people like the Horizon Tribe, or a person like you.”
“I won’t let you down,” replies Elkhoof, “A pompous bag of wind like that won’t stop us.”

Dulnori nods, and walks off into the tar pit. As he does he sets his eye above the spot of the new city, when he awakes he wants to know everything that he missed.

The action is open to Chern, Petr, Timorin, Kahar Djin, Ymon-Thal, and Graw.
Dulnori influences the creation of the city Rokanon, to propel it forwards faster, and through the teachings of Elkhoof he warns the people of the city of Yir’s plans for domination.

+2 Ambition: The city is a huge project, and is exactly the kind of thing Dulnori lives for. The people shall work hard and strong, and they shall tire slowly. Their drive to finish this construction will be unsurpassed.

+2 Fortune: Dulnori blesses the people of the city. It shall be a wealthy city, and prosper in trade with friendly groups like the Prehist and the Cult. It shall grow and progress, and reach a state of prosperity.

+1 Dreams: Dulnori reveals his knowledge to the Horizon Tribe as they dream. They shall see great visions, showing them plans for buildings and laws, structures and new technologies. Particularly, they shall dream of iron and steel, and be inspired in their waking lives to obtain this wonderous new metal.


Dulnori scries the area around the Eternal Arena where Rokanon will form.

[Batcathat]

Ymon-Thal, 2/50 AP, 1st Justice University
Thal-Verys couldn't tell if it was something supernatural about it or just her knowledge of the city's recent history but it gave her a sensation of death and rebirth at the same time. Ymon-Thal would have enjoyed it, she suspected, but she was mostly disturbed as lead her companions through the streets until they reached the grounds of the future university.

The area was full of workers and others and it felt like all of them was staring at her. She was used to it — sort of — since even those who didn't know who, what, she was tended to notice someone dragging a small sun around, but she was still relieved when she quickly found Nerassus.

"Nerassus", she greeted him. "You've gotten bigger." She took a deep breath. "On behalf of the Yith and of Ymon-Thal, he who is both Life and Death, I thank you for this invitation. These men and women have traveled far to come here and are eager to learn."

The students standing behind Thal-Verys seem to have little in common. The youngest was little more than a girl, the oldest far closer to his last year than his first. Some had the scarred bodies and weary eyes of life long warriors, others had soft hands and softer hearts.

She turned to the two men standing slightly away from the others, one young and the other old. "This is master Astyr and his apprentice Thol, here to share their knowledge with anyone who wishes to learn. Master Astyr is one of the Yith's strongest necromancers, second only to the great councilor Athala, and Thol already knows more than most men twice his age." The men bowed towards Nerassus.

"Good luck", she said to Nerassus before looking back at the Yith. "To all of you."


+ 2 Death
In addition to sending students and teachers to the university, Ymon-Thal weakens the barrier between the mortal world and the Passing in the university, making it easier to perform necromancy there than anywhere else. To an experienced necromancer the effect is barely noticeable but to a beginner it can make a big difference. This effect is tied to the concept of the university rather than the area or the physical buildings.

As hinted above, the eight Yith students are all members of the Verysian Order. They (and future generations of the order) are there to learn as much as possible, both in the classrooms and outside of them.



***

The Passing

Even in the Passing, Ymon-Thal could hear Timorin's plea clearly.

"I have given a gift to my people that shall impact your creation. The Shadow of Hope I have gifted you will always belong in the passing to help guide worthy souls to their next life. I am growing weak, only able to protect my people with a simple staff. If you are of the mind, they would welcome your help."

"Good", Ymon said and yawned. "I though I was the only one who was getting so tired."

Thal studied the staff, seeing the magical energies within it as clearly as if he'd been next to it. "There are some... interesting ideas here. I suppose we could help."


Ymon-Thal aids in the creation of the staff, adding to it the ability – at the level of a necromancer of some experience – to influence any souls of the dead (+ 2 Death) close to it. Not enough to control any but perhaps the weakest of souls but sufficient to force on back into the Passing.

[The JoJo]

Avestra, South Coast of Axia

Avestra soared along the coastline of the northernmost continent, but she sensed something in the air had changed. Graw had already returned to the dreamless sleep and it seemed the rest of them were likely to follow. When they would awake again, she wasn't sure, but she felt certain that it would happen again. If nothing else, their awareness seemed bound up with the fate of the mortals, and mortals were becoming more numerous with every passing year, despite her efforts to the contrary.

At that moment, she felt a ripple through reality and the familiar voice of Timorin, as if he were right beside her:

"I hope your people have enjoyed the masks they have been given and that we may continue our friendship. I know you have felt my actions today. My people know you to be an ally and will use what I have given them to protect and aid your Owls should the need arise."

"Likewise, I will keep an eye on your islanders and all those who still live in the old ways," Avestra said. She raised a wing in readiness. "Take this gift."

Avestra helps Timorin create his shadow staff with +2 nature. The wielder of the staff shall have an immunity to all pathogen-conveyed diseases for as long as they possess the staff.



~

Silver Wings, Sunset Forest, Ebonbark Bay

More than any other tribe, the Silver Wings kept watch on their borders for any sign of tallhead incursion. Not only with their own eyes, but also those of the birds, who relayed their findings through the medium of the trees. Nevertheless, it was with some surprise that news of the new university to the north and the open invitation to six of the Crow People was received.

There was much debate about whether to accept the invitation. After all, no born-Crow had left the forest in living memory and returned alive. But eventually, it was decided that three of their most learned treewhisperers would make the journey, accompanied by two lean young warriors to act as guards and one elderly tongue who had been born outside the forest and thus had some knowledge of the land to the north of Sunset Forest. If they knew what the tallheads were up to, as one elder put it, then perhaps they would have a better chance of resisting them when the inevitable came.

Avestra helps Petr found the First Justice University with +2 nature. The lesser used parts of Grawpolis will, with time, begin to return to nature. Saplings will push their way through broken cobbles, forming protective columns of trees along the streets which will provide shade in the summer and shelter from the winter winds. Wild animals will return to make their nests in quiet corners, living peacefully alongside the mortal inhabitants of the city.

The six Crow who arrive in the university will teach advanced treewhispering techniques to those who are willing to learn and in turn will study the outside world in order to bring any useful knowledge back to Sunset Forest.

[DarthArminius]

Su'ule
Oh how wonderful, the Island Sanctuary is creating a school now! Su'ule allowed six Changeling Su Sorcerers to join the school as instructors. Su'ule would give these Su Sorcerers special instructions on what and how to teach.


Help Petr
+ 2 Sorcery : You guessed it, the Changelings teach ALL forms of sorcery very well.
+ 2 Monsters : Changelings teach the students Monstrous theology, Su'ule's belief that the natural and the unnatural can co exist in peace.
+ 1 Birth : Changeling's very under rated gift is the medicine of magical contraception. Anything that has to do with birth is taught here, from Sex Ed, and how to mix a special potion that prevents pregnancy. There are even potions for a painless birth.

[Megadraco]

Grawpolis, Kahar-Djin, 22 AP

The ripples of the event were felt throughout the world. A god, one of Kahar-Djin’s own, had died. The Divinity’s eyes grew wide, and, lifting his staff, they bent space, creating a Path between where he stood and the location of the nigh-unbelievable event. In an instant, he was in Grawpolis, the city in the middle of evacuation.

“Oh, Grawissen. I was angry at you, for sure. But when I said I didn’t find you worthy of divine power, I… I didn’t mean you should let go of it. I don’t understand, wh- what has happened to you? I know our time this age is coming to a close, and I also understand that nothing is eternal, not even the gods. But this… This is too soon.” They closed their eyes for a moment, then looked up.

“I grant you my blessing, Grawissen, so you can find your Path, wherever it is the divines go when we die.”

They closed their eyes again, and mourned.



Some time later, they looked up, and noticed they had gathered a small group. About ten people were looking at them, whispering among themselves. They were each wearing some sort of eyepiece. Of course. Path of Sight travellers. Their magicite eyewear would be picking up the vast amount of divine energy Kahar-Djin held, since they had been making no attempt to hide it. So, they turned, and spoke to the Missionaries,

“You. You are travelling the Path of Sight, are you not?”

The group fell quiet, and then a younger girl shouted,

“No, this is just the latest fashion in Orcishtal!”

Kahar-Djin chuckled, despite themselves. Maybe they should have demanded more respect, but, well, a bit of humour was welcome in this time.

“Very well, I will interpret that as a yes. And who might you be? And more importantly, why are you still here? This city appears to be quite aflame right now.”

Indeed, the evacuation had ended, and the city was in the process of catching fire. In fact, some flames were getting dangerously close.

“My name is Ayla!” said the young girl. “As for why we stayed… Well, we were going to join the king in evacuating the city, when we stumbled upon you. You know, some of our Missionary tales tell of an old masked man who started appearing around the same time as Kahar-Djin did and here you are, an old masked man mysteriously appearing in a city right as it is being abandoned after the city’s god supposedly died and-” She catched her breath. “I guess what I’m saying is, are you Kahar-Djin, mister?”

Amused, Kahar-Djin looked at her with a glint in their eye.

“Never mind who I am, dear. This is truly a momentous event. A god has died, and for seemingly no apparent reason. Or at least not reason apparent to me, a simple, humble traveller.” There was that glint in his eye again. “But you, you are knowledgeable, travellers of the Path of Sight. Surely, you must have some idea of what has happened here. Why Grawissen has suddenly died.”

She pressed her lips, then said,

“No, sorry. We investigated for a bit, but in the chaos it was hard to find much at all, and afterwards we were...Well, distracted by you.”

Kahar-Djin gave them a sad smile, and said,

“You did the best you could. Now, this place seems to be getting more dangerous by the second. So go on. Find somewhere safe. And don’t you worry about me, I’ll be alright. Come on, go, go!”

The travellers fled the area and, as Kahar-Djin was getting ready to depart, they sensed another ripple of divine activity, one covered in blood…



The air glimmered for a moment in front of War and Drama as space twisted upon itself, wind growing as air flowed into the Path that formed, and in the blink of an eye, an armoured figure appear, shield in hand.

"Timorin," they said as greeting. "You understand, I hope, that I didn't send my Travellers to your land to be sacrificed."

Timorin jumped a bit at the sudden appearance. "Of course not. They hold a very high place among my people."

"Good. Still, this," they pointed toward the grotesque staff. "Is something I cannot ignore. A terrible abuse of power, disturbing the order of the world and bringing forth chaos."

Timorin looks around rather confused before speaking. "Do I come to see what you are doing and lecture you about making paths or thresholds?"

Kahar-Djin narrowed their eyes.

"Do not take me for a fool, Timorin. This is not about the staff, or whatever magic it may hold. It's about the methods you used to create it. The spilling of blood and sacrifice of innocent lives."

A look of understanding settles on Timorin's face. "Oh then why didn't you say so? You come in complaining about bringing forth chaos but that is all I have ever tried to do. And while I understand you being upset, I hope this tool will reduce the cost of innocent lives for my people and others."

"Reduce the cost of lives?" the Divinity repeated. "Even if your methods weren't abhorrent, responding to sacrifice in this way only begets more sacrifice. Your people spill their blood and you grant them a powerful gift in response. What do you think they will do when they need further aid?"

Timorin looks down for a moment. "Probably sacrifice people. Though should their need be so great, I would surely use the power given to me by that to aid them. Though know I plan to give them a proper leader when I awake. One to hold more wisdom than I to guide them in my absence. I did not have the power for such this time, so this is all I could offer. Nobody seemed to mind all of their murder before." The part was more mumbled than stated.

"I heard that," said Kahar-Djin. "And I did mind their murder, when I became aware of it. That is, in fact, precisely the reason I sent the Travellers of Wisdom here. But I digress. I think, as long as this wretched object continues to exist, their approach to divinity shall be hampered. Thus they will know that true divinity does not lie down this path and, hopefully, will make them think twice before resorting to sacrifice."

Timorin shrugs. "I'm sorry that we fell on different sides in this. I'll remember what you said though."

Kahar-Djin [B]hinders the creation of the staff by making it so anyone who uses it will find it much more difficult to advance in the Path of Emotions, or any other Path of Divinity.(-2 Paths)



Some time later…

Kahar-Djin had been observing the Travellers of Wisdom, keeping a close eye on them, when they felt something tug at them. It was a prayer, one of their followers asking for guidance. With a flick of his staff, a Path was created, and immediately they found themselves in the Northern Monastery.

Bron was down on one knee, in prayer. When he noticed their arrival, he slowly stood up, straining against his weights, bowed with similar effort, and said,

“Please, master follow me.”

He turned and began to walk, slowly and carefully. Kahar-Djin, curious, followed behind him. They came to a second room, where, on a table, lay what looked to be eight engraved shells, and behind them, a letter. Kahar-Djin stepped forward, and read it.


"Greetings from Sanctuary Bron. I don't know if you remember me, Nerassus, but I remember you. I have created a place for people to learn and study. A bit like the schools you've set up for the paths. Anyway. My point is. Like any place of study, we need teachers and students both. So if any of the path missionaries want to come study, or even teach, know that they are very welcome. I'll even give you these emblems. Eight of them. Give them to someone whom you think would benefit from our university, as this will grant them guaranteed access."

“I see,” said the Divinity. “That is quite an interesting prospect. Though, I do fail to understand what you need my advice for.”

Bron bowed once more, and replied,

“Forgive me, master, but I do not know who to give them to. Those of us here are dedicated to following the Path of Discipline, or the Way of the Cardinal Fist, and will not be leaving this monastery. I do not know of anyone to whom this might be of use.”

Kahar-Djin thought for a moment, then said,

“You should keep one.”

Bron’s brow furrowed.

“Master?”

“You have a long life ahead of you, Bron. Perhaps at some later time, a thirst for knowledge may overcome you. As for the remaining seven,” they added, taking all but one of the emblems, “I know just the right people for them."



Kahar-Djin appeared in front of Ayla, and the group of Travellers, who had, it seemed, left the ruins of the city behind. They popped out of nowhere, and yet, they didn’t seem surprised. Of course. Those eyepieces. They’d have seen the distortions in space before he stepped through them. Slightly miffed at having his surprising entrance ruined, nevertheless they spoke to the group.

“Hello once again, Travellers. I must ask, have you gleaned any more information about the death of Grawissen?”

The travellers shook their heads.

“We are sorry,” said one of them. “We do not know any more than we did before.”

Kahar-Djin felt somewhat disappointed at that, but they hid it well. Ayla stepped forward, to speak.

“There’s… Some people around the ruins of Grawpolis. Do you have any idea what that might be about, mister?”

“Yes,” the Divinity replied. “That is, in fact, the main reason I’m here. Petr is building a university, a place of learning and knowledge. And I have received a set of emblems that will guarantee you access to it. I thought of no better group of people than you.”

With that said, they produced the emblems, presenting the seven engraved shells to the Travellers of Sight.

Ayla looked at them, then stepped aside.

“I shouldn’t take them. I can’t stay at the university either way.”

“Why not?” Kahar-Djin asked, puzzled.

“Well, I’ve reached the Second Threshold of the Path! I’m supposed to travel the world now!”

The masked figure looked at the young child in shock, but they could tell she was telling the truth.

“In that case, come with me, I have something for you. As for the rest of you… Decide among yourselves who shall go to the university. The remainder should travel, as the Missionaries you are, and spread the word of the university, so people far and wide learn of it.”

Kahar-Djin helps the construction of Petr's University by sending a group of Travellers of Sight, who may prove to be great teachers and avid students (+2 Paths). Additionally, he sent a smaller group of missionaries to spread word of the university, to ensure news about its creation reach far and wide. (+1 Travellers)



Kahar-Djin led Ayla away from the group, and she followed. Once they were a good distance away, the Divinity turned to her, and from their robes, produced a key.

“You’re giving me… A key? What’s it for?”

The figure smiled behind his mask.

“That, young Traveller, is for you to find out. But I will tell you this: This is no ordinary key. No, this key holds a fragment of my power. My… Divine power, as you have in fact deduced. Keep it close to you, and don’t let it fall into the wrong hands. When the time comes, pass it on, to someone you trust to keep it just as safe. When I return, I will come to collect it.”

“Return?” asked the girl. “Kahar-Djin, where are you going?”

“Oh, young child, the time fast approaches for me to explore the cosmos once more. The celestial spheres are calling, and I admit I no longer have the strength to resist their call. The mysteries of the universe are vast, and I’m certain you more than anyone understands how alluring they can be. Do not be worried, however; I will return, when the time is right.”

“I understand, Kahar-Djin. I’ll be waiting for you, and I’ll keep this key safe with me.”

“I could ask no more from you. Goodbye, Ayla.”

With that, there was a shimmer in the air, and Kahar-Djin was gone.

(16 AP / 12 DC) Create a +2 Domain religious artefact

Kahar-Djin creates the Key of the Spheres (+2 Keys). Whoever uses it will quickly find that all locks, gates, and other thresholds open to its holder (+2 Thresholds). Furthermore, they may eventually discover that it holds the ability to create a Path between two thresholds it has opened before, no matter the distance between them (+2 Paths)

[gac3]

FLUFF TO BE ADDED IN WHEN ABLE. POSTING CRUNCH IN CASE IT TAKES LONGER THAN I WANT.

Timorin took the seashell back to the cult and left with them instructions. They were to sail their ships to Grawopolis with a young student who would learn what the college had to teach and return. As the relevant professors became available, they would also report to the college. They would also establish a system of donating extra corpses to scientific research. The Apathy of Timorin will be the student.



The cult will send the following people (over time, might not all be there immediately) to teach:
Transmuters
Path of Emotion (Maybe also Wisdom)
Combat (Various forms)
Geography
Anatomy
Drama/Arts

Create a new method of gaining admission. Each time a batch of students graduates, they will have the opportunity to create a challenge. It can be anything they want. The only limit is approval from the headmaster. Anyone can enter the challange. The winner will receive a spot in the college.

+2 War
+2 Drama
+1 Games


Timorin sent another of his ships to sail towards toward the new city of the Horizon tribe. Bringing gifts and good cheer. The Grief of Timorin will be going for this venture but will return afterwards.



+2 Drama: The city will be a haven for the arts.
+2 War: The city and cult shall communicate with the masks and be able to come to eachother's aid when relevant. The cult will also offer training in any methods the Horizon Tribe might need to defend themselves.



Timorin appears before the key. "Oh look at this affront to thresholds and embodiment of paths. I shall not stand for this." Then with a wink to the mortal, he vanishes.


+2 Drama

Anyone who uses the key without active intentions of a location, just the desire to be somewhere else, will be led to an exciting location. It could be a battle field, an orgy, or anything that might bring some excitement into their life.

[Godzillarich]

The tale of Graw death spread throughout the world. While many went along with their lives the tongues would never forget the creator. Many of the made pilgrimages to the destroyed city that now became a university to pay respects to the following God. Many would stay a little bit to become teachers, they would bring a wealth of historical knowledge to the University.


+2 knowledge: many of the tongues will leave behind copies of their notes, this will give them great historical knowledge. A way for them to continue the mission of teaching.

____
(Keep in mind these 2 helps happen before the war)

Déjà vu sense the work of two gods, with a heavy heart he went to the pickax of the recently deceased King, deciding it would be best to help both of them. One for helping savings his father's people and the other paying respects to his father

+2 architecture: Their stadium will be improved, the stone craftsmanship will depict epic battles of legend from all over the world. its wonderful architecture will make it one of the great wonders of the world.
+2 heroism: The resolve of the people will be as strong as steel, they will not bend the knee to what they see as evil.


+2 architecture: The key will have a distinct look of artistry, is finely crafted. Additionally, it will also be able to open up anything as long as it's man-made even if there is no way normally it can be opened
+2 heroism: The key knows when someone is in danger and the user will feel something is wrong when holding the key and will be compelled to go to where the people in trouble are.

[Maryring]

1st Justice University, Nerassus
Nerassus wipes the sweat from his brow as he takes a step back to admire his handiwork. A cavern built into the foundation of the city. Symbols carved into the archway of stone that leads into a massive altar upon which rests the bones of Grawissen. He has had various censers forged from brass and filled them with a slowly burning tallow to create long lasting torches. He has smoothed the walls, the floor, even the roof. Small decorations everywhere to give the grave that last touch of beauty fitting for a divine grave. All that remains is.

"Sir?"

He perks up, turning behind himself to look at one of his workers. The poor man is wringing his hands, hemming and hawing nervously as the demigod looks down upon him. "Yeah? What is it?"

"Sir. Ah... there are these golden dragons. They are requesting the remains of Lord Grawissen."

---

Creating a place for everyone to sleep and grow food has been the number one goal for long term sustainability for the university. Sanctuary has provided plenty of food for the workers, but it won't last. Thankfully, there's a lot of old structures that can be refurbished. Sitting at his desk, Nerassus is putting the finishing touches of a tentative map of the region. All the way from the coast, to the jungles and mountains that encircle and shelter the citystate. And within the city itself, on his map he has a granary there, a well there, farms almost everywhere, and perhaps he could set up a stele

"Sir?"

Looking up from the clay tablet, the demigod inclines his head to the farmer stepping into his tent. "Yeah? What is it?"

"Sir. Several wild animals have begun settling in the outskirts of the city sir."

---

It's taken blood, sweat, and even the occasional tear. But the university is soon able to officially open it's gates to everyone. The place shall be a haven for thought. A place where people can devote themselves to being their best self. Mortalkind shall be able to enjoy the gifts of wisdom he was given in his youth. People from all over the world has arrived to a place where they can rise over their base desires. Already potential students and professors mingle in activities of wholesome wisdom and

"Sir?"

Nerassus involuntarily flinches as he looks at the young messenger hurrying up to him. "Yeah? What is it?"

"Well, you know the house we set up downtown for the changelings? They've turned it into a brothel sir."

---

Rokanon
It's been a while since he last visited the Steppe. As soon as things back at the university settles down, he'll have to make the journey here and study more. It'll do wonders for his skill in drawing magic, even from such a barren place. And the differences in application between shamanism and druidry, despite being ostensibly the very same type of magic, is a lot of fun to look into. But for now he is here to deliver the remains of Grawissen along with the golden dragons who act as his guide. When his eyes fall on the Eternal Arena, and the town that is growing up around it. He recognizes some of the people down there as visitors of Sanctuary. Travellers who have crossed the globe. Perhaps this is why his mother sent him up here when she did. Surely it'll be okay to make a minor detour...

+2 Justice: On his way home, Nerassus will gather up information about the local populace and culture. He'll bring that back with him to the university, and use it to help educate a new generation of lawmakers to help the city create it's own code of laws.

+2 Water: Petr left Nerassus a globe of water. Seemingly innocuous, the globe will occasionally break off pieces, weaving among dreams to inspire the people to aquamancy and sailing.

---

The Key of Spheres
It was only supposed to be a brief visit. A check in on the travellers. To see what Bron and the others were up to, perhaps confirm how many of them were planning on visiting the university. But then he felt it. Nerassus almost tumbles from his wagon at the brief manifestation then concentration of divine essence into an object. A rush of power. Hiding himself behind clouds he travels to where he senses the artifact. He finds a mortal woman who carries the artifact. The artifact is a gift of Kahar-Djin, and though they and mother have had their... differences, mother did tell of how Kahar wove an exception into the trap for him. That, at the very least, demands some form of repayment.

+2 Justice: If the key is not freely given, those who take the key feel subtly compelled to return the key to the proper owner.

+2 Healing: The key can unlock doors, but it can also be used to lock and unlock the body. Turning a key can close up a wound, be it on a body or a structure.

-2 Flesh: Manipulating flesh is difficult. Especially when Nerassus attempts to touch upon the realm. And so, whenever the key is used to close a wound, a corresponding wound will open on someone else. Vice versa, the key may open a wound on someone, but only if it can in so doing close a corresponding wound on someone else nearby.

[AlexanderML]

https://www.artnet.com/WebServices/images/ll00207lldzx0GFgVeECfDrCWvaHBOcXFyD/francesco-galli-bibiena-a-capriccio-of-an-elaborately-decorated-palace-interior-with-figures-banqueting,-the-cornices.jpg

Emperor Valrion, and Others -Valrion's Palace upon Holy High - Meeting the Emperor (part 2):

The top of Holy High where the once the humble temple to Yir stood was now the god-made residence of Emperor Valrion, and they proclaimed that the representatives of the major clans would meet here in the new emperor's personal abode. Each one shown the splendor of Emperor Valrion's home and treated to a banquet before meeting the emperor for a private conversation. While each of the clan representatives spoke of the duties of their kingdoms to the empire, negotiating what they could with Emperor Valrion, each of them also spoke on a more personal level with the emperor as well.

Ephor Kilmilor of the Tradono:

The ephor had requested a strange place for his private meeting with the emperor, the unused training hall of the palace. While the ephor was far past their days as an active commander, they still held an axe with barely rusted ease. Kilmilor went through the required diplomatic necessities as fast as they could, clearly not paying much mind to anything Valrion said as long as it did not change anything. When they were finished the ephor began to fight with more enthusiasm as they began to speak about things that really mattered to them, Valrion defending with their brilliant golden shield the entire time (to the mild annoyance of Kimilor).

"I've heard that a few monsters are being integrated with my clan's men, and that you were the one to start this outlandish alliance, why not just kill all these murderous lizards?"

"They are serving their penance, and so long as they live by the Oath that I have given them than they shall prove to be more steadfast in the defense of our lands than perhaps all but the Tradano."

Kilmilor gave a huff at that. "You cannot trust monsters to follow an oath."

"Perhaps, but they cannot not break their oath to me, and through it so shall they channel their monstrosity towards noble cause. In any case they shall be needed soon enough to fight the invading heretics."

While a little perturbed at some of the implications of those words Kilmilor did not slow down "I see, but there is no need, all we need to do is let the invaders extend more of their forces away from the wastes where we can strike in full force."

Emperor Valrion gave a nod to the negative "No, that would endanger those living near the wastes needlessly, we have no guarantees that they would be merciful towards sugrandi or even the luviti in our lands. Our force being assembled must intercede with them before they can gather their strength in full and go from raiding to the their planned invasion. The raptors will be essential for this, since they have a resistance to the heat of the waste that even the luviti lack."

"Really? If that is true, and they can at least act like soldiers, then I see why you would care to have them integrated with my people; and I will try to advocate for them now myself. For now at least."

Valrion gave a nod "Satisfactory, any more queries ephor Kilmilor?"

"An observation." The old man said before in a swift motion hitting emperor Valrion's shield in a way that unbalanced them. "You do not know how to fight."

Emperor Valrion's mood suddenly shifted form distant to cold and defensive. "So? I have no need for such skills, none may harm me with mortal power. It is not important."

Unfazed by this as much as they were any other danger the ephor continued. "My emperor I am no fool, and I believe that you are not one either. There are creatures out in the world like the Beast of the north whom I worry even your power is not enough to face, at least without superior skill."

After a pause between the two, their clash ending, Valrion sighed. "Indeed you are right, I have been neglecting to train in any real capacity in personal combat. When you contact your clan once more I would like you to arrange for someone to come here to train me."

Kilmilor chuckled, "No need. You would be hard pressed to find a better trainer than myself. I have trained whole companies and a dozen champions of the field already. I volunteer to give you training in combat myself."

"... it would be easier to keep secret. I shall accept this arrangement so long as you swear to never speak of this training or need for it."

"Of course. I say we should begin now."

"I have other arrangements made... but afterwards when I am finished with them we shall create a proper schedule for my training."


Speaker Comerca of the Grigani:

Comerca had requested to meet in an art gallery, the closest thing available in the palace being a hallway filled with life-like statues of people inside a stone garden. The plants inside looked life-like, yet their glossy appearance revealed that all of them were fake.

Emperor Valrion and Comerca spoke for hours on the topics of trade, strategic duties, infrastructure, and other business related to the empire and the Grigani. Both spoke with a similar level of enthusiasm the entire way through, only stopping once the sun was beginning to set.

Overall they did not speak on personal matters beyond basic flattery.


Her Majesty Erini of the Ulisters:

Her Majesty Erini had personally arrived to see emperor Valrion and speak to them, though until this private meeting could be arranged they has barely said anything to one another. While they did not have a great deal of time to speak with one another, Erini had accepted emperor Valrion's proposal to have the meeting set after dusk. The stars and dim candles being the only thing to illuminate the large balcony that they stood on.

It would look quite romantic if it were not for the intensely cold domineer the queen gave off and the distant eyes of emperor Valrion looking on even as they smiled and played their part perfectly. They spoke with one another with sweet words of familiarity.

However when emperor Valrion was in the middle of reminiscing on the little princess a dagger was thrown right at their neck, striking perfectly yet bouncing off in a wild direction.

"What sor-" was all the queen was to let out of their lips before Valrion punched with the force to crush stone Erini's head, yet an aura of light from the queen appeared and absorbed the blow, only knocking the queen onto her back.

The two just stood there in shock for a moment, their faces twisting up as emotion came to the forefront; Erini's face showed her disgust and Valrion's eyes were filled with tears.

"Your alive thank Above!" They said realizing that their blow did not actually cave in Erini's skull. "Your majesty... why?" Was the only other thing they could say as the queen got up slowly.

"You are a monster! A vile creature who only looks like the one who came with eyes full of compassion and wonder into my home. Others may not be able to tell, but can see right through your disguise..." She trailed off as she looked into the teary eyes of Valrion. Though they turned away from her soon after.

"I'm sorry, I could never express how sorry I am for what I've done. Though it was not by my design, I am indeed consumed by a monster." Valrion said looking out into the distance. "Please just leave Erini."

Staring at them the entire time she walked out of the balcony she did leave, and by the morning she nowhere to be seen



Wizard of Necromancy Thadomos of the Cavpo:

The robbed and somewhat off-putting necromancer had requested that in the morning they meet before the morning meal inside an empty library. It was mildly embarrassing for emperor Valrion to meet a guest in such a barren part of the palace but they obliged the representative this request.

Thadomos had already arrived and was sitting at one of the engraving desks in the room working on a piece when emperor Valrion entered. Their eyes were glazed over as their hands worked on a clay writing about a topic in a language emperor Valrion did not recognize.

Emperor Valrion waited for almost an hour, and two tablets of clay worked on, before addressing the wizard. "Thadomos, I see that you are steeped in work, might you prefer to reschedule this meeting another time?"

That snapped Thadomos out of their trance as his eyes regained focus and a little sheepishly looked at emperor Valrion "Oh, I'm sorry my lord I did not see you enter, I was focused on this. It's just so easy to contact the dead hear, did you know that there are souls that pass through here all the way from southern Ale-"

"I know Thadomos, but the point of our meeting is not to discuss the souls that flow through my home to the world beyond the veil. We are hear to discuss the duties of the Cavpo."

"Yes, of course..."

As rough as their meeting was to begin with Thadomos was able to negotiate surprisingly well once they focused on the task at hand. It helped that emperor Valrion was seemed to see more potential in their clan than previous emperors, they were so negotiable to the Cavpo compared to them that Thadomos was expecting a surprise request that did not seem to come for the longest time, but then the emperor hinted at a heavy task that the Cavpo would have to endure.

"What do you mean emperor?"

"It is not something that I should wish to discuss in detail before it is presented to the court, but you should be notified and prepared for the eventual influx of immigrates. They shall share the majesty of Above as we do."

"Immigrates? My lord I have already heard tales of a few groups already arriving in our lands, sent by you no less, over a year ago. Your caution, while generous, is not warranted here."

Emperor Valrion nodded in the negative "There will be more, in even smaller numbers they shall come and yet they will bring a change so great that the northern lands will be forever changed. I cannot elaborate on the details but they shall arrive buy Will Above and Great Beast Below."

Thadomos's eyes widened a little at that, "What? The Beast?"

Emperor Valrion stared directly into Thadomos's eyes, freezing the necromancer with their gaze. "Yes, though they know it not, they serve the good of all. You will not speak the specifics of this meeting so long as it is not necessary, promise me."

Frightened and more than a little confused Thadomos stuttered out a "Y-yes I promise."

Instantly emperor Valrion's mood lightened, "That is good, now I will tell you what must be done to save the Cavpo."

After another hour of speaking to the wizard he left in an almost sprinting speed from the empty library, away from the palace, and back to their home to prepare for what was to come.





Across Most the Lands of Axia, excepting the lands touched by the Preserver:

The silent voice of Above wander across the lands where their voice could travel, going through numerous villages of savages, strange peoples, and blessed folk. Each of these people had the spark inside them, the desire to grow, and it found the greatest among them to foster and bolster to brilliant heights. By it's care the voice of Above gifted great insight, blessed forms, and the will to see the divine lands of the greatest mountains in the world. They heard the call and every single one of these blessed folk traveled to the mountains to heed the call that spoke to their souls.

There they saw the greatest of people, the Sugrandi, and marveled at the physical strength and beauty they held; and yet most bemoaned the lack of skill they held and the torment they gave to the Luviti of the land. While they marveled at this tragedy for a time, each one was visited by a being of light whom gazed at the souls of these special people of Axia. Every word was gentle, yet the whole of what they asked for held great purpose that gripped their souls.

"You whom marvel at the glory that are the people of this land, who's greatness is more than worthy of being champions among them and who's hearts should shine for all to see, I thank you for listening to the voice of Above to come to these lands. For, while it pains me to ask of such valiant and good souls, I must plead for your aid."

How could they deny this glorious being that has come before them? Each of them listened to the word of this holy being, though plenty held great reservations in their hearts after what they had seen.

"I am burdened with the task of aiding these greatest of people grow even greater than themselves, to become not just physically gifted but in mind and soul as well. This is a burden I beg you to help me carry. Please see that with guidance and time their greatness can be a shining beacon for the world to see. Though the task I wish you to complete is but the beginnings of what must be done, it shall be tiresome nonetheless."

And while many among them would not normally accept such words normally, hearing them coming from such a being of holiness was what was needed for all of them to agree to help. And every time one accepted the shining beings request it bowed to them.

"My deepest thanks, glorious men and women of our land. The task that I ask for to aid these people is that of learning and understanding. I wish for them to know the wisdom of the world to the highest extent possible, and I wish for them to learn of the world. You, who's minds are that of champions and who's hearts hold goodness deep within them, I ask that you be the ones to travel to the lands beyond our home of Axia and return with this wisdom."

The reactions varied from distrustful acceptance to joyous tears, but they accepted this quest, and so the Emperor's Wisdom came to be.

4 AP/2 DC: influence a large group of mortals (~100).

Yir and Valrion send out a hundred perfectionists out into the world to learn the skills and wisdom of the world, with the goal to return home and found great schools.

This action is open to Su'ule, it involves changlings as well as humans/giants. She also would recognize the silent voice as the work of Yir's magic.

+1 Perfection: The silent voice of Yir guides these souls. Among the population of most of Axia (excepting the Stepp folk who live in a land where Yir's voice cannot travel) this voice guides those of good moral character and perfectionist talent to greatness. While few in number each of them has incredible talent.

+2 Stonethroe: These talented perfectionist souls are guided to the stonethroe mountains. A place each of them feels a connection towards due to the closeness to Yir they already have acquired.

+2 Majesty: To aid them on their journey Yir has blessed each of them with majesty, no mortal no matter the rank they hold can bring themselves to harm or impede the movements of these men and women unless they are known to have committed a crime or strike the person. No mortal realizes that these men and women are blessed so, excusing it one way or another.

+2 Sun: The sun guides them on their journey. So long as they stay true to the quest these men and women may teleport similarly to Valrion in the daylight. This is their main means of traveling across continents.

+2 Giant: After years among the lands of the people outside they return to found great schools using the knowledge they have gained, spreading both what talents they can bring and the wisdom of the world.

[DarthArminius]

https://www.artnet.com/WebServices/images/ll00207lldzx0GFgVeECfDrCWvaHBOcXFyD/francesco-galli-bibiena-a-capriccio-of-an-elaborately-decorated-palace-interior-with-figures-banqueting,-the-cornices.jpg

Emperor Valrion, and Others -Valrion's Palace upon Holy High - Meeting the Emperor (part 2):

The top of Holy High where the once the humble temple to Yir stood was now the god-made residence of Emperor Valrion, and they proclaimed that the representatives of the major clans would meet here in the new emperor's personal abode. Each one shown the splendor of Emperor Valrion's home and treated to a banquet before meeting the emperor for a private conversation. While each of the clan representatives spoke of the duties of their kingdoms to the empire, negotiating what they could with Emperor Valrion, each of them also spoke on a more personal level with the emperor as well.

Ephor Kilmilor of the Tradono:

The ephor had requested a strange place for his private meeting with the emperor, the unused training hall of the palace. While the ephor was far past their days as an active commander, they still held an axe with barely rusted ease. Kilmilor went through the required diplomatic necessities as fast as they could, clearly not paying much mind to anything Valrion said as long as it did not change anything. When they were finished the ephor began to fight with more enthusiasm as they began to speak about things that really mattered to them, Valrion defending with their brilliant golden shield the entire time (to the mild annoyance of Kimilor).

"I've heard that a few monsters are being integrated with my clan's men, and that you were the one to start this outlandish alliance, why not just kill all these murderous lizards?"

"They are serving their penance, and so long as they live by the Oath that I have given them than they shall prove to be more steadfast in the defense of our lands than perhaps all but the Tradano."

Kilmilor gave a huff at that. "You cannot trust monsters to follow an oath."

"Perhaps, but they cannot not break their oath to me, and through it so shall they channel their monstrosity towards noble cause. In any case they shall be needed soon enough to fight the invading heretics."

While a little perturbed at some of the implications of those words Kilmilor did not slow down "I see, but there is no need, all we need to do is let the invaders extend more of their forces away from the wastes where we can strike in full force."

Emperor Valrion gave a nod to the negative "No, that would endanger those living near the wastes needlessly, we have no guarantees that they would be merciful towards sugrandi or even the luviti in our lands. Our force being assembled must intercede with them before they can gather their strength in full and go from raiding to the their planned invasion. The raptors will be essential for this, since they have a resistance to the heat of the waste that even the luviti lack."

"Really? If that is true, and they can at least act like soldiers, then I see why you would care to have them integrated with my people; and I will try to advocate for them now myself. For now at least."

Valrion gave a nod "Satisfactory, any more queries ephor Kilmilor?"

"An observation." The old man said before in a swift motion hitting emperor Valrion's shield in a way that unbalanced them. "You do not know how to fight."

Emperor Valrion's mood suddenly shifted form distant to cold and defensive. "So? I have no need for such skills, none may harm me with mortal power. It is not important."

Unfazed by this as much as they were any other danger the ephor continued. "My emperor I am no fool, and I believe that you are not one either. There are creatures out in the world like the Beast of the north whom I worry even your power is not enough to face, at least without superior skill."

After a pause between the two, their clash ending, Valrion sighed. "Indeed you are right, I have been neglecting to train in any real capacity in personal combat. When you contact your clan once more I would like you to arrange for someone to come here to train me."

Kilmilor chuckled, "No need. You would be hard pressed to find a better trainer than myself. I have trained whole companies and a dozen champions of the field already. I volunteer to give you training in combat myself."

"... it would be easier to keep secret. I shall accept this arrangement so long as you swear to never speak of this training or need for it."

"Of course. I say we should begin now."

"I have other arrangements made... but afterwards when I am finished with them we shall create a proper schedule for my training."


Speaker Comerca of the Grigani:

Comerca had requested to meet in an art gallery, the closest thing available in the palace being a hallway filled with life-like statues of people inside a stone garden. The plants inside looked life-like, yet their glossy appearance revealed that all of them were fake.

Emperor Valrion and Comerca spoke for hours on the topics of trade, strategic duties, infrastructure, and other business related to the empire and the Grigani. Both spoke with a similar level of enthusiasm the entire way through, only stopping once the sun was beginning to set.

Overall they did not speak on personal matters beyond basic flattery.


Her Majesty Erini of the Ulisters:

Her Majesty Erini had personally arrived to see emperor Valrion and speak to them, though until this private meeting could be arranged they has barely said anything to one another. While they did not have a great deal of time to speak with one another, Erini had accepted emperor Valrion's proposal to have the meeting set after dusk. The stars and dim candles being the only thing to illuminate the large balcony that they stood on.

It would look quite romantic if it were not for the intensely cold domineer the queen gave off and the distant eyes of emperor Valrion looking on even as they smiled and played their part perfectly. They spoke with one another with sweet words of familiarity.

However when emperor Valrion was in the middle of reminiscing on the little princess a dagger was thrown right at their neck, striking perfectly yet bouncing off in a wild direction.

"What sor-" was all the queen was to let out of their lips before Valrion punched with the force to crush stone Erini's head, yet an aura of light from the queen appeared and absorbed the blow, only knocking the queen onto her back.

The two just stood there in shock for a moment, their faces twisting up as emotion came to the forefront; Erini's face showed her disgust and Valrion's eyes were filled with tears.

"Your alive thank Above!" They said realizing that their blow did not actually cave in Erini's skull. "Your majesty... why?" Was the only other thing they could say as the queen got up slowly.

"You are a monster! A vile creature who only looks like the one who came with eyes full of compassion and wonder into my home. Others may not be able to tell, but can see right through your disguise..." She trailed off as she looked into the teary eyes of Valrion. Though they turned away from her soon after.

"I'm sorry, I could never express how sorry I am for what I've done. Though it was not by my design, I am indeed consumed by a monster." Valrion said looking out into the distance. "Please just leave Erini."

Staring at them the entire time she walked out of the balcony she did leave, and by the morning she nowhere to be seen



Wizard of Necromancy Thadomos of the Cavpo:

The robbed and somewhat off-putting necromancer had requested that in the morning they meet before the morning meal inside an empty library. It was mildly embarrassing for emperor Valrion to meet a guest in such a barren part of the palace but they obliged the representative this request.

Thadomos had already arrived and was sitting at one of the engraving desks in the room working on a piece when emperor Valrion entered. Their eyes were glazed over as their hands worked on a clay writing about a topic in a language emperor Valrion did not recognize.

Emperor Valrion waited for almost an hour, and two tablets of clay worked on, before addressing the wizard. "Thadomos, I see that you are steeped in work, might you prefer to reschedule this meeting another time?"

That snapped Thadomos out of their trance as his eyes regained focus and a little sheepishly looked at emperor Valrion "Oh, I'm sorry my lord I did not see you enter, I was focused on this. It's just so easy to contact the dead hear, did you know that there are souls that pass through here all the way from southern Ale-"

"I know Thadomos, but the point of our meeting is not to discuss the souls that flow through my home to the world beyond the veil. We are hear to discuss the duties of the Cavpo."

"Yes, of course..."

As rough as their meeting was to begin with Thadomos was able to negotiate surprisingly well once they focused on the task at hand. It helped that emperor Valrion was seemed to see more potential in their clan than previous emperors, they were so negotiable to the Cavpo compared to them that Thadomos was expecting a surprise request that did not seem to come for the longest time, but then the emperor hinted at a heavy task that the Cavpo would have to endure.

"What do you mean emperor?"

"It is not something that I should wish to discuss in detail before it is presented to the court, but you should be notified and prepared for the eventual influx of immigrates. They shall share the majesty of Above as we do."

"Immigrates? My lord I have already heard tales of a few groups already arriving in our lands, sent by you no less, over a year ago. Your caution, while generous, is not warranted here."

Emperor Valrion nodded in the negative "There will be more, in even smaller numbers they shall come and yet they will bring a change so great that the northern lands will be forever changed. I cannot elaborate on the details but they shall arrive buy Will Above and Great Beast Below."

Thadomos's eyes widened a little at that, "What? The Beast?"

Emperor Valrion stared directly into Thadomos's eyes, freezing the necromancer with their gaze. "Yes, though they know it not, they serve the good of all. You will not speak the specifics of this meeting so long as it is not necessary, promise me."

Frightened and more than a little confused Thadomos stuttered out a "Y-yes I promise."

Instantly emperor Valrion's mood lightened, "That is good, now I will tell you what must be done to save the Cavpo."

After another hour of speaking to the wizard he left in an almost sprinting speed from the empty library, away from the palace, and back to their home to prepare for what was to come.





Across Most the Lands of Axia, excepting the lands touched by the Preserver:

The silent voice of Above wander across the lands where their voice could travel, going through numerous villages of savages, strange peoples, and blessed folk. Each of these people had the spark inside them, the desire to grow, and it found the greatest among them to foster and bolster to brilliant heights. By it's care the voice of Above unheard gifted great insight, blessed forms, and the will to see the divine lands of the greatest mountains in the world. They heard the call and every single one of these blessed folk traveled to the mountains to heed the call that spoke to their souls.

There they saw the greatest of people, the Sugrandi, and marveled at the physical strength and beauty they held; and yet most bemoaned the lack of skill they held and the torment they gave to the Luviti of the land. While they marveled at this tragedy for a time, each one was visited by a being of light whom gazed at the souls of these special people of Axia. Every word was gentle, yet the whole of what they asked for held great purpose that gripped their souls.

"You whom marvel at the glory that are the people of this land, who's greatness is more than worthy of being champions among them and who's hearts should shine for all to see, I thank you for listening to the voice of Above to come to these lands. For, while it pains me to ask of such valiant and good souls, I must plead for your aid."

How could they deny this glorious being that has come before them? Each of them listened to the world of this holy being, though plenty held great reservations in their hearts after what they had seen.

"I am burdened with the task of aiding these greatest of people grow even greater than themselves, to become not just physically gifted but in mind and soul as well. This is a burden I beg you to help me carry. Please see that with guidance and time their greatness can be a shining beacon for the world to see. Though the task I wish you to complete is but the beginnings of what must be done, it shall be tiresome nonetheless."

And while many among them would not normally accept such words normally, hearing them coming from such a being of holiness was what was needed for all of them to agree to help. And every time one accepted the shining beings request it bowed to them.

"My deepest thanks, glorious men and women of our land. The task that I ask for to aid these people is that of learning and understanding. I wish for them to know the wisdom of the world to the highest extent possible, and I wish for them to learn of the world. You, who's minds are that of champions and who's hearts hold goodness deep within them, I ask that you be the ones to travel to the lands beyond our home of Axia and return with this wisdom."

The reactions varied from distrustful acceptance to joyous tears, but they accepted this quest, and so the Emperor's Wisdom came to be.

4 AP/2 DC: influence a large group of mortals (~100).

Yir and Valrion send out a hundred perfectionists out into the world to learn the skills and wisdom of the world, with the goal to return home and found great schools.

This action is open to Su'ule, it involves changlings as well as humans/giants. She also would recognize the silent voice as the work of Yir's magic.

+1 Perfection: The silent voice of Yir guides these souls. Among the population of most of Axia (excepting the Stepp folk who live in a land where Yir's voice cannot travel) this voice guides those of good moral character and perfectionist talent to greatness. While few in number each of them has incredible talent.

+2 Stonethroe: These talented perfectionist souls are guided to the stonethroe mountains. A place each of them feels a connection towards due to the closeness to Yir they already have acquired.

+2 Majesty: To aid them on their journey Yir has blessed each of them with majesty, no mortal no matter the rank they hold can bring themselves to harm or impede the movements of these men and women unless they are known to have committed a crime or strike the person. No mortal realizes that these men and women are blessed so, excusing it one way or another.

+2 Sun: The sun guides them on their journey. So long as they stay true to the quest these men and women may teleport similarly to Valrion in the daylight. This is their main means of traveling across continents.

+2 Giant: After years among the lands of the people outside they return to found great schools using the knowledge they have gained, spreading both what talents they can bring and the wisdom of the world.

Su'ule looks down on the world, and simply smiles. Well, she would smile if her head was in the right form to smile. She was happy nonetheless. Four specially powerful Su Sorcerers join the men and women on their journey.


+ 2 Sorcery : Magic would be easier for these mortals, especially while on their quest.
+ 2 Monsters : Monsters would have an aversion to causing these people harm.
+ 1 Birth : Mortals, when they are on long quests together, tend to get aroused more easily. Su'ule blesses them so that no woman gets pregnant if she doesn't want to be pregnant.

[AlexanderML]

The Sorcerers of the North - Glorious Tidings:

Those blessed in the caves of Su'ule were visited by a the glowing titan that emerged as their race was created, though this time when it beheld the blessed of Su'ule it was but 40ft tall.

"Oh you most blessed of the Great Monster Below, know that Will Above loves you too."

+2 Sun: The sorcerers are blessed with unnatural grace, and so can more use solarmancy even if they normally would not have the grace required for it.

+2 Giant: These particular sorcerers do not provoke the ire of the southerners on sight, and have to say/do something to actually provoke them. This grants them a great deal of freedom and makes them great diplomates between the two people.



https://dejpknyizje2n.cloudfront.net/svgcustom/clipart/preview/knight-fighting-a-dragon-677-19041-550x550.png


(This post was done with the cooperation of Alex and Darth, done in-between the ages)

Emperor Valrion, Dragon Man, and some Others Upon the Gnaw Wastes - Heart to Heart:

The time between ages was an opportunity for more than just the horror experienced in the far away lands of Tria, as Emperor Valrion's eyes for expansion loomed north to the lands of the now-changelings.

The Court practically screamed for revenge, stating that without the Beast there surely now would be the time to wipe out all the filthy Mutants that live there. For months they called out for revenge in their hearts, for almost everyone in the Court could trace their lineage to a fallen hero who defended the Empire against Mutant raids, the only exceptions being the human councilors.

Emperor Valrion stood to calm the hearts of their people for a time, but as time wore on and the issue got brought back to them again and again, the emperor decided that it was time to address the issue directly. On the day that Emperor Valrion proclaimed that they were going north to the lands of Su'ule, the Court cheered and offered their armies to the emperor before he asked; however, the only army the Emperor chose to take was a simple company of spearmen from a small kingdom of Ulisters. Confused, the Court abided by the emperor's will, for they still knew the emperor's personal strength would be enough.(edited)

Only two weeks later emperor Valrion had arrived at the Gnaw Wastes, or as the emperor put it "The Gnaw Greenlands". It was a strange place, warmer than the southern lands of the Cavpo.

Taking little time to enjoy the scenery, they set to the plan of the emperor. Groups of spearmen spread far and wide searching for hostile locals. It did not take long for them to find someone, someone very large... the Dragon Man themselves roared in their draconic form as they leapt at the foolish giants. Though only one of them was properly killed before the rest fled, supposedly for reinforcements. It chased them, striking one after another down with claw or returning to neanderthal form to smite with magic, before entering into a large open clearing. There the Emperor Valrion stood, with their divine armor gleaming in the sun. As the comparatively small giants fled behind them the emperor raised their shield and stated "Greetings, I presume you are the mighty Dragon of the North? I am Valrion, and while it gives me no joy to say this, in the name of the One Above All I must have these lands."

The Dragon immediately walked forward, thinking little of this ‘Valrion’. "So, you have come to conquer our lands! Under no circumstances must you be allowed to leave this place alive." It was Tu'ul Arn, the ageless. In truth, by now he was very old, no longer as strong as he once was, but it was still within his power to show himself as the mightiest sorcerer in all the united tribes.

"I, Tu'ul Arn, challenge you! Giant of The South! I give you the honor of returning to your Empire as the Honored Dead! In Blessed Su'ul's name, we battle!"

Emperor Valrion sighed, clearly not desiring any physical confrontation, but they knew that the Dragon would feel the need to throw their strength against them. "I accept, though I must apologize to a warrior such as you. For I will not attack you for three minutes, as I'm not good at holding back. If you surrender before then, I shall accept it as a draw between us."

They just stood there with their shield up, waiting.

At first Tu'ul Arn gave a respectful nod, and then, Looking at the Giant of the South, up and down, sizing the enemy up, the other sorcerers knew to give the two warriors a wide berth. Suddenly, there was a crash of thunder and lightning in the sky. The thunderbolt hit Tu'ul Arn with a magical blue flash. Suddenly, after the blinding flash, Tu'ul Arn's mortal form was replaced with a very large dragon. The dragon, as the size of a great mammoth, gave a mighty roar. Tu'ul Arn lowered it's head and unleashed an unusually colored fire.This fire was meant to target an opponent's soul. This fire would incinerate most mortals, leaving nothing left, in fact, only a god could restore the target. Perhaps by targeting the soul of this Lord of the South, Tu'ul Arn could remove him as a threat. The soul fire from the dragon's mouth was said to be so hot, that the flames burned away too much flesh for the dead to feel pain.

Emperor Valrion stood without moving away, for the pure light of Yir was what surrounded their soul. Though they did move as if they were hit with a somewhat above average breeze, and steadied their footing for similar attacks.

"Impressive, Lord." Tu'ul Arn stated. "Finally, an opponent worth fighting." He reiterated his awe that Valrion was still not only alive, but unscathed. "I can see that I'm going to have to continue to think outside the box, yet again." His claws on his hands went intangible, although now appearing as colorless, phantoms of the more than razor sharp claws they actually were. True, Tu'ul Arn was a great sorcerer, but he was also a tremendously strong and fierce dragon. His claws, already with enough strength to slice and puncture even the toughest metals with ease, were now enchanted to be a spiritual form of themselves, meant to bypass armor, defenses and even his enemy's shield. Perhaps this was just some form of strong foreign magic that protected this "Valrion" and not the aid of a god.

Valrion's armor was... strange, it did not stop the great sorcerer but it clearly slowed their mighty strike. Something more than magic was in the armor. Yet the claws did strike at the flesh beneath, bouncing off them as they gave zero give whatsoever to the mighty Dragon. For reality refused to allow it, as Yir had decreed years ago.

Frustrated, going nowhere, Tu'ul Arn thought he was going to take a risk, this would likely be very dangerous against this mysterious enemy, who was seemingly invincible and more powerful than any of his enemies had ever been before. Transforming back into a Neanderthal body, Tu'ul Arn squinted with effort as he looked deep into Valrion's eyes and then closed them, as he mysteriously but effectively, for the moment, telepathically forced Valrion's mind to cease it's basic functions of living. Valrion could sure not live with a beating heart. Nor could he breath without working lungs, or even think with a brain getting no oxygen or blood flow. Seeing that something was finally beginning to happen, Tu'ul Arn was starting to get excited. He was winning.

Valrion struggled to even stay standing, their mind reeling from the attack as it seemed like they had died.

...

Yet they did not. They still lived, even as everything stood still within Valrion and it seemed like they were dead, it did not seem to actually do anything to their soul. The light, the Light that was there since that day, still was there. Refusing to go no matter how much Valrion's body and mind screamed it should.

A tense moment passed, as the demi-god seemed like they were about to fall over and victory going to the Dragon. Yet Valrion regained their senses, and their footing barely within time.

With their posture clearly showing relief they stated "That was new, impressive. You truly have earned your reputation. However, I must warn you that trick won't work again, for by MY decree shall you not be able to touch my mind again." There was no magic involved, yet something changed, for the universe heeded the emperor, though if the Dragon had attacked this new defense it might not hold. Then they removed their helmet, looking somewhat annoyed though not particularly mad they stated "Are you done? You're almost out of time. Or must I show you what I can do on the offensive...?" They began to grow slowly, not stopping…

https://pm1.narvii.com/6685/b00e59c78d3304db72c8d56d17e0c46425c5c519_hq.jpg

The Dragon’s eyes were widening as he realized that he may have very well lost, and finally discovered an unbeatable enemy. Tu'ul Arn gave a vicious smile and with another flash of thunder and lightning, he screamed once more in a dragon's roar, so loudly that the sorcerers, now many miles away from the battle, viewing through clairvoyant eyes, were forced to cover their ears, as were other tribe'smen. This dragon's roar would have deafened Valrion's guards, and his viscious clawed hand soared with a suicidal strength that would have been as strong as one of Tu'ul Arn's younger days. Expecting to die in this battle, Tu'ul Arn's roar was actually a phrase of words, which translated means "For blessed Su'ule!”

With surprisingly fast *whack* everything ended. While the titan sized Valrion hit the mighty Dragon Man with the weight of a mountain it did not die. It fought too well and was a being that deeply cared for this land; Valrion would not permit such a thing. Indeed, as the Dragon’s form did not even look injured after a moment as emperor Valrion aided the great being before them.

Looking at each other, Valrion shrank down to the size of a normal giant and held out a hand in a sign of friendship. “Come great Tu'ul Arn of Su’ule, we have much to do to create a glorious future unlike any other. For this land shall know peace eternal, and grow greater than nearly any other. It shall be the beacon of knowledge that brightens the world below it, and the people of this land shall be hailed as creators unparalleled.”

And so the Emperor's Peach comes to the north. The full ramifications of this will be shown later, but as the map has shown it's not a simple conquest.



The Key of Spheres:

As Kahar-Djin left, the sun looked down upon the creation and was pleased that it was not a blood-soaked abomination.

"At least some of you know how to create proper objects, and know who should properly handle them. By my will shall it be kept so."

+2 Majesty: As long as a mortal uses the Key few mortals will notice their presence negatively, only positively. Those of a divine nature holding the key will find hatred from those mortals they meet.

+1 Perfection: Those that use the Key pick up how to use it properly very quickly.

[Garjel_blah]

Chern, 8/50 AP, the Throne of Rot and Ruin

As the age draws to a close, the one-armed, one-legged, one-eyed body of Chern sits unresponsive in his throne. Ichor no longer flows from his wounds, and even the token rise and fall of his chest has ceased. The Wiltwatcher will not move again until the stars next align.

However, there is still more to do in the world, and though his body has halted, Chern still has gifts to share. Motivated by the god's dwindling energy, the leg, arm, and eyeball that he removed in a fit of rage against Timorin suddenly animate. Hopping, clawing, and rolling along the stone floor, they set about completing their final tasks.

The Leg of Chern, the 1st Justice University

Xcha looked up and down his report scroll with an air of despondence approaching resignation. He had never exactly been the most well educated of the choblins, a generally ignorant bunch to begin with due to their brief existence as a people. He'd been chosen to come to the university because he was the only one with the ability to travel there, not because he was smart. His grades, it would seem, reflected that reality.

"Ah, rot..." He set down the scroll, and pushed himself up from the table. With a swirl of aerobatics, Xcha soared out his dormitory door and down the outside corridor. He navigated over the other students, most of whom were used to his presence but some still couldn't help sparing a dumbfounded glance at the flying legless terror, then down the stairs. The cellar greeted him on the bottom floor, lit by a glowloam brazier. Without preamble, Xcha drifted to the faintly glowing barrel at the end of the room. Flagon in hand, the choblin scooped out a generous serving of chum, and drank deeply.

"Ooooh..." Xcha sighed, spirits visibly lifted by the liquor. "Well, at least I'm not entirely useless. They should have a brewing course here. Top of the class!"

He toasted his own hypothetical achievements, and took another swig. A faint patting sounded from somewhere behind him, as though someone was descending the cellar steps. Xcha quickly dropped his flagon, turning nonchalantly.

"Yeah just having a quick taste, I don't usually drink alo-" Xcha suddenly fell silent. For it wasn't a fellow student standing at the entrance to the cellar. It was - mostly - not even a person.

"Um..." Xcha gaped at the single severed leg standing at the bottom of the steps. He glanced back at the barrel of chum with some concern, then quickly returned his attention to the leg. It hopped a step towards him.

"Back!" Xcha hissed, pressing his back against the ceiling fearfully, but the leg didn't listen. It continued to approach the choblin, one step at a time.

"I said back, apparition, foul thing, necromantic spawn! I won't hesitate to... Wait... I know this leg."

He had a sudden memory from far back in his youth, back in the days of his bloodlust. He'd eaten a leg just like that once.

"Chern! My god!" Xcha practically fell from the ceiling to the floor, prostrating himself before the Leg of Chern. "Forgive my abuse, sir. I mistook you for an arcane threat."

The leg ignored Xcha, continuing to hop unsteadily until it was beside the glowloam brazier. Then, with a mighty leap, the leg stomped into the brazier, landing so hard that it smashed through the bronze metalwork and down into the stone floor. Dust filled the cellar, making Xcha cough and splutter. When it cleared, the leg was gone, and a two metre deep crater full to the brim with pulsating glowloam remained in its place.

Help Petr establish the 1st Justice University

+4 decay, to build a starry crypt on the university campus

+1 fermentation, to inspire Xcha to start a distillery on the university campus, which he will call the Hobble & Hops. Many bright young students will come up with their best works while swigging chum at the Hobble & Hops

The Arm of Chern, Rokanon

"Willin, Willin, yer 'ave ter try summa this 'ere. C'mon, 'ave a taste."

"But Pogba, et's green."

"Ay know ay know, it dun look ser appetisin', but trust yer ol' mate Pogba on this one me good friend. When 'ave oi ever led ye astray?"

"Mmm, true true. Oi'll 'ave a bit uv a nibble... Oh. Oh! Et's not 'alf bad!"

"Not 'alf bad at all eh?"

"Not 'alf bad at all. Where'd ya get et?"

"Ye won't believe Willin, yer won't believe. I was tendin' the buffalo, oautside the gate er this new city. And what do oi see? An 'and!"

"An 'and?"

"An 'and!"

"An 'and 'nd nuthin else?"

"An 'and 'nd nuthin else."

"What was et doin'?"

"It was milkin' a buffalo!

"You saw an 'and milkin' a buffalo?"

"I did."

"You mean like a severed 'and roight?"

"Yep."

"Well oi never... So where'd this 'ere green stuff come from?"

"The 'and, the one ay saw milkin' my 'ere buffalo, et mixed in some glowin' yeller substance inna the buffalo's milk that et milked."

"Yer mean lemons?"

"Twas not, surprisin'ly. Thes was different. It realleh glowed, I tell ye."

"Huh. So wha' then?"

"Well then the milk turned inna this wonderful green stuff ye hold in yer very 'and!"

"Wow... An' what 'appened ter the 'and?"

"I saw et crawl away, so oi followered for a bit, an' then it just started diggin'... Come, oi'll show ye. Bring the green cheese, oi want summore."

Help Dulnori establish Rokanon

+4 decay, to build a starry crypt just outside the city walls

+1 fermentation, to teach the locals to make green cheese, a delicious and virtually unspoiling variant of blue cheese made using glowloam and buffalo milk

The Eye of Chern, Ebonbark Bay

Ayla turned the Key of Sphere's over in her hand, wondering at the gift her god had bestowed upon her. Then, she heard a call from her friends. They wanted to know what she was doing, why Kahar-Djin had taken her aside.

"Coming!" she called out to them, then gave the key a final look before stowing it in a pocket. He hand paused a split second before releasing it, and she removed the key once more. She raised an eyebrow.

She could have sworn that jewel hadn't been there before...

Help Kahar-Djin create the Key of Spheres

+4 decay, Chern's eye will be set into the key's handle as a clear yellow crystal. The crystal glows, and this glow will intensify or fade depending on how close the key is to one of its set thresholds. In addition, and Path of Sight traveller may use the crystal in the Key of Spheres as a substitute eyepiece.

[Garjel_blah]

Chapter 2, Turn 4 rolls

Timorin (8 AP/6 BP) - sacrifice much for the Staff of Shadows (14 AP/10 DC) +2 War/+2 Drama/+1 Games/-2 Fear
Grawissen, +9 dead god juice, shadow essence
Su'ule, +2 Sorcery/+2 Monsters/+1 Birth/-2 Wilfulness, monstrous deaths
Petr, -2 Water/-2 Justice/+ Flesh, block aquamancy
Alatadriel, +2 Fire, fire shield
Chern, -4 Decay, shadow sacrifice replenishment
Yir, -2 Sun/-2 Majesty, orbital lasers
Dulnori, +2 Ambition/+2 Fortune, metal detector
Ymon-Thal, +2 Death, mild soul control
Avestra, +2 Nature, disease resist
Kahar-Djin, -2 Paths, no Paths of Divinity
[roll0]

Grawissen (4 AP) - kick start Ostrom Library (4 AP/2 DC) +2 Knowledge/+2 Architecture/+2 Heroism/+1 Writing
[roll1]

Petr (6 AP) - establish the 1st Justice University (6 AP/3 DC) +2 Water/+2 Healing/+2 Justice
Dulnori, +2 Ambition/+2 Fortune/+1 Dreams, Golden Dragon teachers
Ymon-Thal, +2 Death, make necromancy easier
Avestra, +2 Nature, garden university
Petr, +2 Sorcery/+2 Monsters/+1 Birth, Changeling teachers
Kahar-Djin, +2 Paths/+1 Travellers, Path of Sight teachers
Timorin, +2 War/+2 Drama/+1 Games, entrance challenge
Grawissen, +2 Knowledge
Chern, +4 Decay/+1 Fermentation, starry crypt and distillery
[roll2]

Alatadriel (2 AP) - introduce Indariel to iron (2 AP/1 DC) +2 Fire
[roll3]

Ymon-Thal (2 AP) - found the Verysian Order (2 AP/1 DC)
[roll4]

Avestra (14 AP) - stir up the Dustborn (12 AP/8 DC) +2 Nature/+2 Birds/+1 Reproduction
[roll5]

Su'ule (2 AP) - send out the ten mages (2 AP/1 DC) +2 Sorcery/+2 Monsters/-2 Wilfulness
Yir, +2 Sun/+2 Giant
[roll6]

Chern (8 AP) - have someone else get beaten up for once (6 AP/3 DC) +4 Decay
[roll7]

Dulnori (20 AP) - accelerate the building of Rokanon (12 AP/8 DC) +2 Fortune/+2 Ambition/+1 Dreams
Timorin, +2 Drama/+2 War
Grawissen, +2 Architecture/+2 Heroism
Petr, +2 Justice/+2 Water, aquamancy boost
Chern, +4 Decay/+1 Fermentation, starry crypt and cheese
[roll8]
Secondary - Eternal Arena scry (8 AP)

Kahar-Djin (22 AP) - gift the Key of Spheres (+2 Keys) (16 AP/12 DC) +2 Thresholds/+2 Paths/+1 Travellers
Timorin, +2 Drama, fun random locations
Grawissen, +2 Architecture/+2 Heroism, danger sense plus break and enter
Petr, +2 Justice/+2 Healing/-2 Flesh, sealing and opening wounds
Chern, +4 Decay, threshold sense
Yir, +2 Majesty/+1 Perfection
[roll9]

Yir (5 AP) - send forth the perfectionists (4 AP/2 DC) +2 Sun/+2 Majesty/+2 Giant/+2 Stonesthroe/+1 Perfection
Su'ule, +2 Sorcery/+2 Monsters/+1 Birth, sorcerer companions
[roll10]

[Garjel_blah]

Chapter 2, Turn 4 resolution

Timorin (0 AP) - success
The space around Timorin darkened, as the Shadows he'd created clustered around his new staff. He felt the power surging... Until, out of the sky, a searing beam of solar energy blasts down upon him. Timorin's avatar would have been fried in an instant, but the solar energy beam was stopped in its path by a swirling wall of flame. The Shadows cowed and shrunk back from the conflict of divine power, and Timorin was forced to drop the staff to end the whole charade. A small crack has appeared along its bone shaft, hungry for still more sacrifices to refill it...
In time, people will find that Path travellers are excluded from using the staff, and wielders may not be healed by aquamancy. However, its ability to sense minerals, create monsters from its victims, exert a small degree of control over souls, and render their wielder immune to disease makes the Staff of Shadows a powerful item.

Grawissen (0 AP) - success
The Ostrom settlers would heed the values of the late god Grawissen, constructing an extensive library in their new city. All the knowledge from Grawopolis, as well as everything they'd picked up in their travels, would be housed here for all the world to marvel at.

Petr (0 AP) - success
The 1st Justice University proved a resounding success in cultures all across the planet. From Golden Dragons to Changelings to travellers of the Path of Sight, many flocked to the university to share their knowledge, and more still came to learn either through the usual means or through one of the university challenges. The campus was quite the wonder in and of itself too; built in the overgrown remnants of Grawopolis, it was a literal garden of knowledge to the resident academics. With its thin barrier to the Passing and budding starry crypt, it could even be quite an eldritch place if one looking in the right places..

Alatadriel (0 AP) - success
The Indariel smiths made careful notes as Alatadriel explained the fundamental of iron to them. They couldn't wait to take their newfound knowledge to the Twin Furnace. They were particularly eager to blow Alatadriel's bellows.

Ymon-Thal (0 AP) - success
All sorts of highly skilled individuals were selected for the Verysian order, privileged to meet and work under the demigoddess Thal-Verys herself. Their future works would be far reaching, though most of it would be lost to the secrets of history.

Avestra (2 AP) - success
In a rare moment of sentimentalism, the goddess Avestra scattered Juniper's ashes to the far reaches of the earth, forming from the remnants of his soul the Dustborn. Many would wonder how these mischievous little spirits, and a few amongst the Crow and Owl peoples would always remember the martyr behind the mystery.

Su'ule (0 AP) - success
Su'ule's ten mages sallied forth, down south into Axia, to spread the word of Su'ule's peace. They met much success in their travels.

Chern (2 AP) - success
Chern's final lesson to the first two generations of choblin resounded throughout Chobe and the still-fledgling Chernway. The Maiming would be practised on all adolescent terrors to tame their bloodlust, their dead would be buried in the ritual of the memory mask deep within the glowloam tunnels, and never again would they let themselves descend into oppressive hierarchy.

Dulnori (0 AP) - success
Rokanon grew into a strong and beautiful city, ruled by the kings Elkhoof and Braedan. In addition to their expert shamans, aquamancy become well practised among the Horizon sailors, and their wonderful green cheese became a common item of trade out of the city.

Kahar-Djin (6 AP) - success
Ayla showed around the gift she'd received from Kahar-Djin themself, and all marvelled at the sheer divinity it emanated. The Key of Spheres (+2 Keys) would be able to unlock anything created by mortals and beyond, even being capable of sealing and opening wounds in a living body. Once opened, these thresholds could be connected, allowing immediate travel for a key wielder. The key's ability to take the wielder to randomised exciting places, while still protecting them with the ability to sense danger and threshold proximity, would result in some interesting legends.

Yir (1 AP) - success
The perfectionists of Yir set out into the world, to learn what they could and bring it back to their people. A group of sorcerers accompanied them, and there was much coupling, though luckily no one got pregnant. That would have been an embarrassing end to such a holy and pure endeavour. Overall, huge success!

PLEASE DO NOT START POSTING FOR THE NEXT TURN - I still need to resolve the age. Get hype for Chapter 3!

[Garjel_blah]

With these final acts of divinity complete, the planets fell out of alignment, and the avatars of the gods waned. It would be hundreds of years before they were to return...

In the meantime, the civilisations they left behind continued to thrive. Using the gifts of their gods they were able to advance and grow, faster and stronger than ever.

Chapter Three: Veni, vidi...
Classical Age

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SdaEYxivjM8

Five hundred years passed. Civilisation erupted across the lands, with mortals everywhere taming the country with agriculture and infrastructure. Cities become less of a rarity, literacy more essential. Finer technologies, like glass and iron, were within reach of those prepared to pursue them, though alternatives such as amberis remained valuable. With so much progress, neighbours were beginning to rub shoulders more than ever before in the historical records. Who could say how their relations would hold up...

It was in this age of prosperity and tension that the gods returned, ushered into their physical form by the alignment of the planets. How would they sway their fractious followers? Time would reveal all.

I'm going to keep this far shorter than last time. You can assume general advancement across all civilisations, even the Crow People now that they're going to university. There are however a few particular developments that I want to highlight.

Theshana
Through diplomacy, Valrion was able to peacefully end the conflict between his empire and the free city of Theshana, and so adhering to the prophesy. Theshana never fell, and as its citizens saw the benefits of the Emperor's Peace they slowly, but surely, began to reframe their old Vreyalasian notions of community. And so, the prophesy was broken. Theshana is now a part of the Imperial Confederacy of Axia, under the treaty of the Emperor's Peace.

Sanctuary
Over the last hundreds of years, the affluent floating island state managed to make a lap around the Crimson and Golden oceans, passing by the Tainted Lands and west coast Axia, before arriving in the channel between Tria and the Stricken Lands. Timorin woshippers at the Maddening Marsh are already becoming aware of Sanctuary's proximity.

The Chernway
Using a combination of the Tuning Trident, aquamancy, shamanism, and the squalid, the choblins of Chobe were able to rapidly extend the Chernway until it spanned the entirety of Tria. There is only one main tunnel so far, going from the Starfolk's Starry Crypt all the way to the 1st Justice University, with Chobe in the middle. There are choblins living all along the Chernway, mostly underground but with the occasional surface outpost hidden in the wilderness.

Demigods
Rosalin has died, and will need to be resurrected to regain her domain bonus. Valrion is still alive through the mastery of various magical longevity arts, however his divine power has waned, so a reawaken will be required to regain his domain bonus. Thal-Verys, Nerassus, and Deja Vu are all still alive and all retain their domain bonuses.

I'm going to let you guys update all other details as you see fit. I certainly plan to post a bit about how choblin and Starfolk society has evolved in the codex thread.

Geographical Map:https://media.discordapp.net/attachments/649851793601462288/692949306579353600/unknown.png?width=840&height=630

Political Map:https://media.discordapp.net/attachments/649851793601462288/692948407345479680/unknown.png?width=840&height=630

Undetectable actions

Free/Instant: manifest avatar, teleport avatar, shapeshift avatar, interact with the world, perform inconsequential/non-divine magic, attempt to remotely contact other gods - general fluff and flavour basically.

1 AP/0 DC: influence one mortal (significantly alter the course of their life by compelling them to action, altering their body, killing them, etc.).

2 AP/1 DC: influence a small group of mortals (~10), influence a small landmark or room, change the weather in a village-sized area.

4 AP/2 DC: influence a large group of mortals (~100), influence a large landmark or building.

6 AP/3 DC: influence a village of mortals (~1000), influence a village-sized area, change the weather in a city-sized area.

8 AP/4 DC: change the weather in a state-sized area, create a basic living species (plant, fungus, micro-organisms), create a basic non-living substance.

10 AP/6 DC: influence a town of mortals (~10k), influence a town-sized area, create an animal species, create one or a collection of lesser magical items (easy to both use and destroy, such as a magic carpet, health potion, invisibility cloak, etc.).

12 AP/8 DC: influence a city of mortals (~100k), influence a city-sized area, create a collection of lesser magical minions (should be a reasonable match for most mortals, such as hellhounds, cherubs, horse-mounted Nazgul, etc.), immortalise a living creature or mortal, create a pocket dimension (must be bounded and unable to hold a population), reincarnate a deceased non-divine being.

14 AP/10 DC: influence one immortal, create a single greater magical monster (should be challenging for even the best mortals to slay, such as a dragon, gorgon, fell beast-mounted Witch King, etc.), create a greater magical item (requires understanding of magic to use or destroy, such as a phylactery, enchanted weapons and armour, crystal ball, etc.), sanctify an area for +2 (max 4 per god).

Detectable actions

16 AP/12 DC: influence a state of mortals (~1M) or a small group of immortals (~10), influence a state-sized area, scry a country-sized area, induce a celestial phenomenon (comet, eclipse, aurora, etc.), demand the sacrifice of 100k mortals to refill AP for the age, create a sentient species, create a +2 domain religious artefact (max 3 per god).

18 AP/14 DC: influence a country of mortals (~10M), influence a country-sized area, scry a continent-sized area, create a plane of reality (can be unbounded and capable of sustaining a population), create a +2 domain/-2 weakness demigod (max 2 per god).

20 AP/16 DC: influence a continent of mortals (~100M), influence a continent-sized area, scry the entire planet, create a law of reality (such as a system of magic for mortals to use, or an objective morality), create a supernaturally gifted sentient species, assign a chosen people for +2 (1 per god).

22 AP/18 DC: influence every mortal on the planet, influence the entire planet, demand genocide for infinite AP this age, despoil a +2 sanctified area.

24 AP/20 DC: destroy a +2 artefact, confer a -2 weakness to a demigod, banish a god for a turn, announce a prophesy.

30 AP/24 DC: destroy a demigod, destroy a chosen people, confer a -2 weakness to another god.

40 AP/30 DC: destroy a god.

Secondary actions

1 AP: scry one object or living creature (allows you to detect undetectable actions that happen within your scry, effective for the duration of the turn after the turn on which you call the scry), demand the sacrifice of one mortal to generate 3 BP.

2 AP: scry a small landmark or room, demand a sacrifice of 10 mortals to generate 8 BP.

4 AP: scry a large landmark or building.

6 AP: scry a town-sized area, demand the sacrifice of 100 mortals to generate 16 BP.

8 AP: scry a city-sized area.

10 AP: scry a country-sized area, demand the sacrifice of 1000 mortals to generate 30 BP.

12 AP: scry a state-sized area, reincarnate/reawaken a mortal/monstrous demigod.

14 AP: occupy +1 of another god's sanctified area, steal +1 of another god's religious artefact (contested rolls, defender may double their modifiers if they have an available secondary action).

16 AP: kill a mortal demigod or banish an immortal demigod for one turn (contested roll, defender may double their modifiers if they have an available secondary action).



Player
Deity
Domains
Weaknesses
Sanctified Areas
Artefacts
Demigods
Chosen People


Garjel_blah
Chern
+4 Decay, +1 Fermentation, +1 Sanitation
-2 Downtrodden
+2 Starry Crypt





Godzillarich
Grawissen
+2 Mining, +2 Knowledge, +1 Writing, +1 Singing
-2 Unknown

Grawissen's Pickaxe (+2 Architecture)
Deja Vu (+2 Heroism/-2 Murder)



Megadraco
Kahar-Djin
+2 Paths, +2 Thresholds, +1 Travellers
-2 Unexplored

The Key of Spheres (+2 Keys)




Demonjazz
Alatadriel
+2 Fire, +2 Foxes, +1 Bees, +1 Fertility
-2 Arrogance


Rosalin Ravenhold (+2 Wilfulness/-2 Mundane)



The Jojo
Avestra
+2 Nature, +2 Birds, +1 Reproduction, +1 Sky
-2 Primeval
Avestra's Perch
The Otherworld Amulet (+2 Dreams)




Batcathat
Ymon-Thal
+2 Life, +2 Death, +1 Balance
-2 Unliving


Thal-Verys (+2 Souls/-2 Grief)



gac3
Timorin
+2 Drama, +2 War, +1 Games
-2 Fear






flyinglemur
Dulnori
+2 Fortune, +2 Ambition, +1 Dreams, +1 Sailing
-2 Stability






Maryring
Petr
+2 Water, +2 Healing, +1 Rainbow, +1 Medical
-2 Pain
+2 Moonpool

Nerassus (+2 Justice/-2 Flesh)



DarthArminius
Su'ule
+2 Sorcery, +2 Monsters, +1 Birth
-2 Wilfulness






AlexanderML
Yir
+2 Sun, +2 Majesty, +1 Perfection, +1 Symbiosis
-2 Arrogance
+2 Stonesthroe Peaks

Valrion (+2 Giants/-2 Petulance)



Playerless
Godless


+2 Harken Steppe
+? ???





All gods may now choose an additional +1 domain, which I will add to the above pantheon list. AP will be divided among the gods thusly, based on estimated worship:

100 AP: Alatadriel, Dulnori, Yir, Su'ule
90 AP: Ymon-Thal, Timorin, Avestra
80 AP: Chern, Grawissen, Kahar-Djin, Petr

The turn minimum will be set to six. After six turns, if any god has dropped to 0 AP, the age will end.

Oh, and one final thing...

---

The 1st Justice University, deep within the ancient Grawopolis foundations

"Alright everyone, it's time for your lunch break. Please vacate the site in an orderly fashion. Leave all tools securely stowed in the appropriate racks. Come on now. You have two hours."

The Golden Dragon supervisor's voice boomed over the construction crew, who eagerly stowed away their tools and vacated the wide tunnel. Some cheerfully lauded the boss for giving them such a long payed lunch break, and argued among themselves about what they'd do with the extra time. The dragon watched them go diligently, then turned to the young human student beside him.

"Alright Ms Kroft, the site is yours. You have two hours to survey. Is there anything else I can do for you?"

"I'm okay thank you," said archaeology student India Kroft, "I'll let you know if there's anything heavy I need to salvage. Might have to get a crew down here... Or maybe just you, you seem quite strong."

"You are observant, Ms Kroft. I'll remain here to guard the site, come see me if you need any heavy lifting."

The university faculty had been understandably displeased when a crew of tunnelling choblins had burst through the deep walls of their starry crypt, just a few months ago. The well fortified campus couldn't afford such a breach in security. After some tense discussion with the choblins, it was decided that their Chernway would be walled off from the university, and an alternative route excavated to a place just outside the university's perimeter. It was, for most people, a massive headache.

Not the case for India Kroft, however. This was an archeologist's dream come true. The Grawopolis foundations were over a thousand years old in places, and many of those places had been lost among the sprawling Prehist mines and deep library halls. A free excavation was just too good an opportunity to pass up. So, tools in hand, India set off into the tunnel wall's construction site.

It was important to recover as much as she could before the construction crew sealing it all off, or worse still destroyed something inadvertently. India removed a magicite eyepiece from her toolkit, a slipped it on over her right eye. With her vision enhanced by the Path of Sight, something immediately caught her attention; a small gap in the floor, partially covered by rubble and glowloam.

"Oh, what's this?" India use her shovel to push the debris aside. She gasped. "By all the gods... Jackpot!"

A stairway had been unearthed in the path of the Chernway. She'd studied the recent survey maps of this region a hundred times over, and this one had never appeared on anything made in the last two centuries. She was looking into legitimate ancient history right here.

India carefully lowered herself into unearthed stairway. It led down in a spiral, quickly vanishing into the shadows. Not even glowloam had seeded down here yet, it had been sealed so long. Reaching once more into her kit, India produced a magicite powered lantern. Under its pale glow she descended the stairway. She could barely contain the excitement and wonder twisting in her chest.

Only a couple of storeys down, the stairs opened out into a small store room. The air was heavy with stale musk - fresh history to tantalise her senses and excite her intellect. Boxes were stacked along the walls, many in various states of disintegration. India couldn't decide which to search first, the breadth of choice almost overwhelmed her, but then... Something caught her magicite eye.

Her excitement sobered somewhat, as a sense of profound strangeness shivered down her spine.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gDUnp0I5YJU&t=1s

In one corner of the room, in what was possibly the most dilapidated wooden crate of them all, a strange bone-white surface gleamed at her. India approached the crate slowly, and with great care she reached up for the gleaming object.

"Ah! Damn..." India flinched back from the object, holding her finger. Whatever it was, it was sharp.

Unbalanced by her contact, the last of the crate's integrity failed, and the object slid free, clattering to the stone floor. India retreated, not wishing to cause any more harm to herself or the object. Ignoring the blood dripping down her palm, she held out her lantern and inspected the strange white artefact.

It looked to her like some kind of dagger. A good foot and a half long, the curved "blade" of the dagger appeared somewhat rounded along the flat. Combined with its strange pale colour, India thought it looked uncannily like a giant fang protruding from a crude bone handle.

Only one part of the dagger wasn't white. The thin edge of the fang glistened red. Red with her own accidentally spilled blood.

"Wow..." India breathed to herself, awed and even a little shaken. Quickly she bandaged her hand, and used a blanket to safely wrap the fang dagger for transport. She would definitely need to give this a closer look back in her office.

A new, unidentified divine artefact has appeared on the planet. As of now, all of the gods can sense its presence, though its exact nature remains unknown (it is listed in the pantheon table as +? ???). To learn more information about the artefact, any god may use a scry object secondary action on the artefact. To acquire the artefact, any god may use an influence single mortal action on India Kroft. If multiple gods try to get the artefact in a single turn, then the gods with the highest success margin will be the one who succeeds first. Once the artefact is acquired, it can be taken from other gods using a steal artefact action, though this will give you the full domain bonus instead of just half of it.

You may all now begin posting for turn 1. Enjoy! :D

[Godzillarich]

The 1st Justice University

An empty classroom only two sat down on opposite sides of the room. “Cheek I know you can do better than this…” a tongue voiced as he was going over some papers. “... You beat the crap out of another person this week.”

The figure who was sitting on the opposite side was a small fluffy figure, a choblins, “Look, I take no one **** if they want to call me words I’ll claw their knee.” cheek said dismissively. “What am I supposed to do Cactus? Let them use me as a punching bag.”

The tongue, Cactus simply sighed, “Look, I understand it isn’t easy being a choblin here, I have already convinced the board to let your violent outbursts slide but remember there’s only so much I can do for you before the University kicks you out…” Cactus then open the door. “You have great potential I don’t wanna see it go to waste.”

Cheek remain silent as he walked to the door. “If they don’t want me here that’s fine.” He then closed the door.
___________

The 1st Justice University-Beachside

Cheek laid near the beaches edge lost in his thoughts. “I don’t need the University, I don’t need no education, I don’t need Chobe, I don’t need an…AHHHHH!” he stopped himself and shut up in the air. Something stepped on his tail.

“Sorry…” A voice mumbled out

Cheek turned around, murdering his eyes. He noticed a simple blue tongue, nothing special about him was one of the traveling types that never really settled down. “What’s the big idea, Jerkass!”

The tongue backed away in fear and squatted down. “I’m sorry Mr. I was just looking for some grass…”

Cheek’s anger gave away to pure confusion. “But… The beach doesn’t have grass?”

“I know it’s dumb but whatever else I go people yell at me to leave.” The tongue said as he continued shaking.

Cheek raised an eyebrow at this. “So...where do you stay at?”

“I sleep wherever people don’t yell at me, I can go if you want.” The tongue said as he turned away
“Wait!” Cheek yelled. “What is your name?”

“I don’t really have a name, I’ve just been walking around but people call me Stop it a lot!” he responded.

Cheek was noticeably more confused at this conversation carried on. “Look Stopit I think I can find someone who can give you plenty of grass…”

(BOOM)

A large explosion rang out coming from the University with the sounds of screaming soon following. “WHAT THE ****!” Cheek said as he turned over to the University. He then turned back at Stopit. “Wait here!” he told the odd tongue before he ran towards the University.

“Okay”

______

“WHERE IS IT!” A mysterious cloaked figure yelled as he smashed a pot to the ground. In front of him were 2 members of the Board of Directors for the University including Cactus. “It’s well documented that you have 5 ribs but there’s only 4 here.” behind him there were 2 orcs and a Sinalese who was holding the other 4 ribs.

Beneath the earth Cheek peeked out trying his best not to be seen.

“We would rather die than tell you where it is!” one of the board members yelled out. “Suddenly a Choblin shaped claw came out of the cloak and stabbed the said board member in the throat with something. Cactus was astonished by what the item was. The legendary pickax Archimedes

“Poor choice of words!” the cloaked figure smirked “Also…” he slammed the pickax into the ground. Suddenly a giant hand emerged from the ground holding Cheek. “...you think you can spy on a thief like me? HA.” the cloaked figure then looked into Cheek’s eyes and raised his hand towards Cheek’s face. “To think an experienced loser like you could ever think to outsmart….AH!” the cloaked figure screens as Cheeks jaws clamp down on the smug bastards hand, tearing it off. “YOU MOTHER****ER!” he fell back in pain. “TEAR HIS SKIN FROM HIS FLESH!”

“WAIT!” yelled Cactus “I’ll tell you where the rib is, just don’t hurt him.”

“Teach don’t” suddenly rocks appeared over Cheek’s mouth acting as a model.

“Shut up you and says a child.” The cloaked figures yelled before turning towards Cactus, his composure returning. “It’s a deal I won’t be needing that hand for much longer anyway. Now where it”

“Under...under the floor plates under my desk.” reluctantly told them.

The cloaked figure slammed the pickax down onto the floor again this time causing a giant hand to appear beneath the desk holding the final rib. “Very good.” He mumbled as he walked closer to Cactus. “I will keep my promise…” He then slammed his pickax into the ground
(Slash)
A giant spike came up from the ground and skewered Cactus. “You said nothing about leaving you alone though.”

Cheek looked in sheer horror “NOOOOOOOOO!” he screened us his muzzle fell off.

Another figure than entered, a tongue from the Stonethrone mountains. “So we have achieved the masks I have eyes we leave now.” in his mouth with a bucket full of the ancient masks.

“Well, I guess we’re done here, Stewart grabbed the Rib and let’s leave,” he said as he walked towards his tongue compatriot with Sinalese carrying the 5 ribs.

“I WILL MAKE YOU PAY FOR THIS!” Cheek yelled out in anger.

“Well that’s where you’re wrong…” He interrupted. “... You see this is all I want however orc mercenary group that I hired once a lot more stuff from the city along with a lot of murder and a lot of rape so they’re going to be pillaging this university to the ground now we will not.” The cloaked figure than waived stumpy are. “... By the way I also didn’t promise then not killing you.” He then slammed his pickax to the ground and the 3 individuals sunk beneath the year. “Bye!”

“You dirty rat, you… you…” try to yell out as his anger turned into sadness as tears rolled down his face.

“Oh boy do you want to start out with a rape or murder.” One of the orcs yelled out.

“Why not both!” the other yelled out as he reached his hand out towards Cheek.

Cheek simply closed his eyes.
-------
-------

“Where we heading to now?” The Tongue asked the cloaked figure.

“We need to make a special stop, deliver those masks.”

“For what?”

“Oh you’ll see!”
____
Cheek waited but then he noticed that nothing was happening he opened his eyes. “Greetings dirt back I was busy cleaning your trash outside the Academy.” And what Cheek saw was Déjà Vu a top of him. He was holding one of the orc bandits arms. He then looked down towards Cheek. “You’re ready to make them pay.” Cheek simply nodded. And with that Déjà Vu broke the chains of rocks

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WSZPUk1JjBE

Déjà Vu punched the bandit in the stomach. “Now let’s see how you like pain! ORA ORA ORA ORA ORA ORA ORA ORA ORA ORA ORA ORA ORA ORA ORAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!” the final punch sent the 1st bandit flying through several walls until he was outside of the Academy. Both of them just that there and then turned their gaze towards the other bandit.

“Back off!” the orc yelled as he pulled out a piece of paper. “You think we can come prepared? HA we have set up magical explosives all around the University, if you move an inch towards me I’ll blow up the entire University.”

“But you’ll die to dumbass, you’re in the city too.” Cheek responded.

The work smiled “HA, I’m dead anyway if I’m caught I might as will take everyone with me.”

“But how do we know you won’t activate it when you’re out of this place?” Cheek yelled itching to rip this guys eyes out.

The orc smiled “Well that’s the fun of it is and it’s? Make your choice backup to the other side of the room and let me go with the entire city blows up. I’ll give you to the count to 3. 1...2…”
(Crash)

Suddenly Stopit slammed through the wall knocking the orc to the ground and making him let go of his piece of paper. “I’m sorry I didn’t do as you asked I just got worried, sorry!”

Déjà Vu quickly grabbed the piece of paper toward it to bits. They then stood above the now helpless work. “Sooooooo can you agree not to do your Ora thing?”

Déjà vu simply smiled. “ORA ORA ORA ORA ORA ORA ORA ORA ORA ORA ORA ORA ORA ORA ORA ORA ORA ORA ORA ORA ORA ORA ORA ORA ORA ORA ORA ORA ORA ORA ORA ORA ORA ORA ORA ORA ORA ORA ORA ORA ORA ORA ORA ORA ORA ORA ORA ORAAAAAAA!”

This said helpless orc was in flying for a wall much like his compatriot.

Cheek turned towards Cactus’s lifeless body. “No oh god no…” he then fell to his knees, crying a mountain of tears as Déjà Vu and Stopit tried to comfort him.

[Garjel_blah]

Chern, 80/80 AP, the Throne of Rot and Ruin

For the first time in five centuries, Chern's single glassy left eye twitched. It strained to look up, stuck within the rigor mortis of its body. Through a hole in the roof of his great hall - a hole that hadn't been there when last his avatar drew breath, if he recalled correctly - the Wiltwatcher saw a bright spot hanging in the dusky sky. The alignment of the planets. Again.

It was all so tiresome, he thought, as he gingerly flexed his two unsevered limbs. He slowly pulled his head to the side, sending a series of clicks and cracks tumbling down his vertebrae.

"Ooooh... Ah!"

With a crunch so mighty that it disturbed this dust on his throne, Chern twisted his spine. He slumped, allowing himself to bask in this one simple pleasure. Maybe it wasn't all so tiresome. Chern shifted his leg, preparing to go about stretching his knee, but was surprised to find something brush against his foot. Leaning forward, the god peered down at the base of his throne.

A body lay slumped against the front of his throne. At least, the remains of a body. It had been so consumed by glowloam that it had almost entirely melded into the throne's stonework, similarly to how bodies in the Starry Crypt would become a part of their tomb. The only remaining feature was, again similarly to the Starry Crypt, a memory mask. Its eyes glowed with fungal luminescence, and Chern noted in particular the strange pattern that'd been designed into the wood; half of the mask was bone white, the other ebony black. A depiction of Ymon-Thal?

Suddenly it all made sense.

---

Four hundred and fifty years earlier

"Would you like a hand with the stairs, Misty?"

"Oh don't be silly, I may be old but I've walked these halls far longer than you."

Nerassus laughed softly to himself as the determined old woman climbed the steps of the bog castle. He followed at a leisurely pace, allowing Misty to take her time. She still hadn't told him why they were here, at their old private haunt in the diviworld. It had been a long time since their last visit, between his role at the university and Misty's age there weren't many opportunities for such leisure. In fact, he wasn't sure he'd been here since the decline of the gods. Yet here they now were.

"I've missed this place," the demigod commented, "it's quiet. I don't think I appreciated that quality before, back when I was a kid, but I do now."

"All part of growing up," Misty said sagely, "you might be immortal but that mind of yours is still going to feel the years. Doesn't help that you're a teacher. Working with kids takes it out of you, believe me."

She winked at him, and Nerassus laughed once again. They walked through halls scattered with debris, along battlements fraught with gaps and crumbling edges. More than once Misty had to get over her pride and allow her demigod friend to help bypass an obstacle. Eventually, they arrived at what Nerassus assumed to be their destination - the throne room. Only this time, there was one startling difference.

"Misty, is that... By the gods."

"You have it exactly."

Misty slowly approached the Throne of Rot and Ruin, in which sat the corpse of the decay god himself. She gave his foot a soft kick, causing it to swing limply.

"A slumbering god, right here where we once sat. See, completely gone."

"Where's his other leg? And... All the other missing bits."

"I'm not sure, but I do have one idea. You know the Hobble and Hops. Do you remember what the owner told you when he first set it up?"

"OOOOH!" Nerassus's face suddenly shone with comprehension. "He meant the literal leg of Chern! I thought he was just being metaphorical... Or maybe crazy."

"Also possible." Misty sat down on Chern's arm rest. "Maybe when he comes back you can ask him."

Nerassus nodded slowly. For a minute there was silence, as the mortal and the demigod took in the novelty of being in a sleeping god's presence. Nerassus sat down on the throne's dais.

"So, how long have you known about this?" he asked.

"Oh, I found out just a few months after the planets fell out of alignment."

"You've known this whole time? Why didn't you show me sooner?"

"Well I... I just enjoyed having such an important secret really. He's like my own private god, sitting in a fish bowl right here just for me. We've had some good times. I came here every 31st of Cherntor to celebrate the day of fear with him, bring some candies, pour him a glass of chum. After my husband passed I started coming here quite a lot, sort of like visiting a grave I suppose. One time I even spent my birthday here, and I drank so much that I ended up doing this to him." Misty grabbed Chern's forehead and yanked his head back, revealing a comical smile painted onto his mask. "Hopefully he doesn't decide to damn my soul for eternity when he sees that."

"Yeah, I'll, uh, make sure he doesn't..."

"I'm joking, I'm sure he wouldn't do that. If our date didn't get me damned for eternity then I'm sure this won't."

Nerassus looked from Misty to the dead, smiling god curiously.

"I didn't realise you two had such a connection."

"I don't know if I'd call it a 'connection'. He couldn't even remember my name while we were dating. To be quite honest, he's better company like this." She gave his head a pat. "But, he did give me the hourglass device. And he fell asleep here knowing that I had access. So I can't help but assume he wanted me to find him. Maybe he liked the idea of someone visiting him in his mouldy old castle."

"I think I understand," said Nerassus. He frowned at the old woman. "I have to ask now... Why did you bring me here?"

Misty sighed, meeting Nerassus's look with a smile.

"I'm old, Nera. And I'm a necromancer. I know that my time is just about here. And I've decided I want to leave all this, at least what Chern thought I deserved of it, to you." She produced the glowing hourglass from her robe, holding it out to the demigod. He took it, but his eyes didn't leave Misty.

"That's not all though, is it."

"You're quite right, dearheart." Misty reached once more into her robe. This time it was a mask that she removed, one half white and one half black. "You know I've always liked ruins. This one shall be my resting place."

"You're going... To die here?"

"I am. Don't try to talk me out of it. This is my decision."

Nerassus nodded. "I respect your decision. And thank you for the device. I'll be sure to... Come visit, sometime."

"I'd like that very much. And I'm sure he would too." Misty laid a hand on Chern's shoulder.

"I'm going to miss you Aunty Misty."

"Oooh, come here you big baby." The two of them embraced, the much larger demigod kneeling to wrap his arms around the frail elder. "I don't care how important you think you are, you're still my big baby Nera."

"Mhmm..."

"You'll say hi to your mother for me, won't you? And this guy if you ever see him."

"I will..."

"You're a wonderful soul. Now go on. There's a whole world out there that needs your help, leave this old woman to herself."

They separated, Nerassus still holding the hourglass. He primed the mechanism that would send him back the mundane world.

"Thank you Misty. I'll never forget you."

"Nor I you."

And with that, he was gone. Misty remained alone in the great ruined hall, with nothing but the drafts and the corpse of Chern for company. Just as she'd been many times before.

"Well, Chern," she said as she lowered herself to the floor at the foot of his throne, "thanks for all the memories. I hope me doing this honours you in some way."

---

The Present

"Misty... Yes, that was her name... Yes."

Chern heaved himself off of his throne, sliding to the floor beside the entombed woman. He reached into the eye hole of the white side of her mask, a gently plucked free a small sprig of glowloam. With great care, Chern transferred the glowing morsel to his own empty left eye socket, depositing it as one would an eye drop. He winked a few times to test his newly restored binocular vision. He looked back towards the memory mask with two glowing yellow eyes.

"Thank you for all the memories, Misty."

[Godzillarich]

The 1st Justice University: Astrology office

The world shifts and blurs before Nerassus's eyes as the University manifests about him. Even after all these times, the journey is still a thrill. He puts a small device into a pocket on his clothes, patting it to make sure it's safe and sound. He takes a deep breath, only to blink as the acrid scent of blood hits his nose. He slams open the door, gazing frantically about. "What's going on?!" He cries out, catching the attention of a nearby clerk who comes rushing over towards him.

"Headmaster! Thank goodness you're here!"

"What happened?"

"We were attacked sir." The custodian stands tall before the demigod. His face caked with mud, sweat and blood. Not his own. "They were. I mean. That is."

"Calm down!" Nerassus barks at him, placing a hand on his shoulder. "Where are they now?"

"Most have been subdued. Some escaped. There's..." The custodian takes a deep breath. "There's been casualties."

Nerassus lips twist into a frown, and he grabs the custodian to follow after him as he walks towards the infirmary. "Summarize the events. Now. Who attacked. How many. Casualty count. How did our defenses respond?"

"They didn't. Somehow they managed to sneak in while most of our defenders were gone. I suspect they may have insider knowledge because."

"Proof?"
"Sorry?"

"Proof. Do you have any proof of your claim?"

"No but."

"Then don't." Nerassus pauses only briefly to glare sharply at the man. "Speculate later. For now. Details and facts only."

"Yes sir. Uhm. I don't have the exact details, but they were a group of mercenaries hired by someone to help him secure the ribs of Old Man Grawissen."

Nerassus tsks softly. "Didn't we hand everything off to the Aeons. Regardless. Numbers?"

"Unsure. They created an explosion, and there is still a lot of chaos and uncertainty. Not too many, but they attacked while almost all of our defenses were away."

Nerassus is about to snap that he's already been told that, but bites his lips at the last moment. "Right. If they're subdued and have escaped, then there's nothing more to do for now. But I want a full report by sundown. Call back the Transmuter General from the Great Hunt ASAP. Have him organize a search and put in place defensive measures. I'm headed to the infirmary."

"Ah sir. First, please go to your office. There's someone waiting for you there."
-----
When he opened the door to his office he saw an unexpected site. It was the legendary hero Déjà Vu above the still sobbing Cheek and Stopit who was just trying his best not to be awkward. “Long time no see old friend...” Déjà vu greeted. “... I think you’re aware that we have a problem.”

Nerassus nods, a frown on his face as he looks down at Cheek. "Indeed. You have my thanks for keeping the students safe for me. Do you know exactly what happened? Something about stealing the remains of Grawissen?"

Déjà vu simply sunk his head, “I could not save everyone, I’m sorry about that…” He then patted Cheek on the head. “... And yes they stole some ribs from my father's body and what’s worse their ringleader has my father’s pickax Archimedes. This is very bad.”

"They have the pickaxe?!" Nerassus shakes his head. "That explains how they were able to get so deep in the city so quickly. You're right, this is bad." He rubs his fingers together over the bridge of his nose, his upper teeth biting into his lips as he closes his eyes. "I'll get the astrologers to look into the matter. Maybe they can find out anything. Do you know anything else that might help us locate and stop them?"

“The only thing I can think of is they are going for the other pieces of my father’s body.” Déjà Vu then pointed at a map. “The rest of the pieces of my father are in 3 places, Chole, when one of the Choblins took one of my father’s claws, in the mighty Rokanon city where they took most of the body and Ostrom where my people took his lower jaw with them.”

"Right. I'll send messages to all three of them, warning them to be prepared. Do you have some way for me to quickly reach you? If you need me, I should be here. And if I'm not, the astrologers should be able to contact me."

“If this city is in danger I sense it I’ll be here as quickly as I can…” Déjà Vu explained.

“He’s dead because of me…” Cheek interrupted, tears coming down his face. ”I tried to be the hero but instead I helped them find the final rip and got Cactus killed.” he then scratched the desk behind him. “...I’m nothing but a nuisance to everyone I know.”

Nerassus frowns and gently lifts a finger to silence Déjà Vu. He turns to Cheek and walks over, kneeling down to gently brush a finger across the young student. "You are not responsible for Cactus's death. And you are certainly not a nuisance. I know Cactus. He is..." Nerassus bites his lips, scratching for a moment against the side of his eye where his face is stained by tears. "Was... a good friend. And I know he loved all his students. It would break his heart to hear you hate yourself for what someone else did to him."

Cheek just walked silently past Nerassus with Stopit following suit, they headed towards the door. “Wait…” Déjà vu interrupted, he then turned towards Nerassus “...by the way the invasion was not why I was so close to here. That was a lucky coincidence, the real reason I came is because I felt their presence again…”

"The gods?" Nerassus perks up. "Yes. That would explain... but regardless. Even your father?"

Déjà vu then lowered his head. “I was hoping he would have returned but it seems to not be the case, he is truly gone.” Then Déjà Vu turned back around. “Anyway it was nice to at least catch up with you.” And with that they walked out

Nerassus nods thoughtfully. "Thanks for the heads up. I'll see you around. You know where to find me if you need me." He then turns to Cheek, planting a hang against his side. "We'll organize a memorial for the lost. I hope to see you there."

[gac3]

Timorin in Diviworld

Timorin felt the vibrations of the new artifact and immediately had a plan. The first thing he did was appear on the Twilight Isle, where he was caught up about what transpired in his absence. After a long time sitting in the Twilight Grove, he decided on a course of action. He focused his will and made a divine proclamation.

"Attention all gods. Soon I will be crowning the leader of my people. I invite you all to come and participate in the festivities. I will also be sharing what I will have gleamed about this mysterious artifact to all those who come to celebrate."


Scry the Mystery Artifact 1AP

[Garjel_blah]

Just reposting the essentials from the age intro, so that it's at the top of the new page. I'll update new petty domains into this one instead of the old one.

I'm going to keep this far shorter than last time. You can assume general advancement across all civilisations, even the Crow People now that they're going to university. There are however a few particular developments that I want to highlight.

Theshana
Through diplomacy, Valrion was able to peacefully end the conflict between his empire and the free city of Theshana, and so adhering to the prophesy. Theshana never fell, and as its citizens saw the benefits of the Emperor's Peace they slowly, but surely, began to reframe their old Vreyalasian notions of community. And so, the prophesy was broken. Theshana is now a part of the Imperial Confederacy of Axia, under the treaty of the Emperor's Peace.

Sanctuary
Over the last hundreds of years, the affluent floating island state managed to make a lap around the Crimson and Golden oceans, passing by the Tainted Lands and west coast Axia, before arriving in the channel between Tria and the Stricken Lands. Timorin woshippers at the Maddening Marsh are already becoming aware of Sanctuary's proximity.

The Chernway
Using a combination of the Tuning Trident, aquamancy, shamanism, and the squalid, the choblins of Chobe were able to rapidly extend the Chernway until it spanned the entirety of Tria. There is only one main tunnel so far, going from the Starfolk's Starry Crypt all the way to the 1st Justice University, with Chobe in the middle. There are choblins living all along the Chernway, mostly underground but with the occasional surface outpost hidden in the wilderness.

Demigods
Rosalin has died, and will need to be resurrected to regain her domain bonus. Valrion is still alive through the mastery of various magical longevity arts, however his divine power has waned, so a reawaken will be required to regain his domain bonus. Thal-Verys, Nerassus, and Deja Vu are all still alive and all retain their domain bonuses.

I'm going to let you guys update all other details as you see fit. I certainly plan to post a bit about how choblin and Starfolk society has evolved in the codex thread.

Geographical Map:https://media.discordapp.net/attachments/649851793601462288/692949306579353600/unknown.png?width=840&height=630

Political Map:https://media.discordapp.net/attachments/649851793601462288/692948407345479680/unknown.png?width=840&height=630

Undetectable actions

Free/Instant: manifest avatar, teleport avatar, shapeshift avatar, interact with the world, perform inconsequential/non-divine magic, attempt to remotely contact other gods - general fluff and flavour basically.

1 AP/0 DC: influence one mortal (significantly alter the course of their life by compelling them to action, altering their body, killing them, etc.).

2 AP/1 DC: influence a small group of mortals (~10), influence a small landmark or room, change the weather in a village-sized area.

4 AP/2 DC: influence a large group of mortals (~100), influence a large landmark or building.

6 AP/3 DC: influence a village of mortals (~1000), influence a village-sized area, change the weather in a city-sized area.

8 AP/4 DC: change the weather in a state-sized area, create a basic living species (plant, fungus, micro-organisms), create a basic non-living substance.

10 AP/6 DC: influence a town of mortals (~10k), influence a town-sized area, create an animal species, create one or a collection of lesser magical items (easy to both use and destroy, such as a magic carpet, health potion, invisibility cloak, etc.).

12 AP/8 DC: influence a city of mortals (~100k), influence a city-sized area, create a collection of lesser magical minions (should be a reasonable match for most mortals, such as hellhounds, cherubs, horse-mounted Nazgul, etc.), immortalise a living creature or mortal, create a pocket dimension (must be bounded and unable to hold a population), reincarnate a deceased non-divine being.

14 AP/10 DC: influence one immortal, create a single greater magical monster (should be challenging for even the best mortals to slay, such as a dragon, gorgon, fell beast-mounted Witch King, etc.), create a greater magical item (requires understanding of magic to use or destroy, such as a phylactery, enchanted weapons and armour, crystal ball, etc.), sanctify an area for +2 (max 4 per god).

Detectable actions

16 AP/12 DC: influence a state of mortals (~1M) or a small group of immortals (~10), influence a state-sized area, scry a country-sized area, induce a celestial phenomenon (comet, eclipse, aurora, etc.), demand the sacrifice of 100k mortals to refill AP for the age, create a sentient species, create a +2 domain religious artefact (max 3 per god).

18 AP/14 DC: influence a country of mortals (~10M), influence a country-sized area, scry a continent-sized area, create a plane of reality (can be unbounded and capable of sustaining a population), create a +2 domain/-2 weakness demigod (max 2 per god).

20 AP/16 DC: influence a continent of mortals (~100M), influence a continent-sized area, scry the entire planet, create a law of reality (such as a system of magic for mortals to use, or an objective morality), create a supernaturally gifted sentient species, assign a chosen people for +2 (1 per god).

22 AP/18 DC: influence every mortal on the planet, influence the entire planet, demand genocide for infinite AP this age, despoil a +2 sanctified area.

24 AP/20 DC: destroy a +2 artefact, confer a -2 weakness to a demigod, banish a god for a turn, announce a prophesy.

30 AP/24 DC: destroy a demigod, destroy a chosen people, confer a -2 weakness to another god.

40 AP/30 DC: destroy a god.

Secondary actions

1 AP: scry one object or living creature (allows you to detect undetectable actions that happen within your scry, effective for the duration of the turn after the turn on which you call the scry), demand the sacrifice of one mortal to generate 3 BP.

2 AP: scry a small landmark or room, demand a sacrifice of 10 mortals to generate 8 BP.

4 AP: scry a large landmark or building.

6 AP: scry a town-sized area, demand the sacrifice of 100 mortals to generate 16 BP.

8 AP: scry a city-sized area.

10 AP: scry a country-sized area, demand the sacrifice of 1000 mortals to generate 30 BP.

12 AP: scry a state-sized area, reincarnate/reawaken a mortal/monstrous demigod.

14 AP: occupy +1 of another god's sanctified area, steal +1 of another god's religious artefact (contested rolls, defender may double their modifiers if they have an available secondary action).

16 AP: kill a mortal demigod or banish an immortal demigod for one turn (contested roll, defender may double their modifiers if they have an available secondary action).



Player
Deity
Domains
Weaknesses
Sanctified Areas
Artefacts
Demigods
Chosen People


Garjel_blah
Chern
+4 Decay, +1 Fermentation, +1 Sanitation
-2 Downtrodden
+2 Starry Crypt





Godzillarich
Grawissen
+2 Mining, +2 Knowledge, +1 Writing, +1 Singing
-2 Unknown

Grawissen's Pickaxe (+2 Architecture)
Deja Vu (+2 Heroism/-2 Murder)



Megadraco
Kahar-Djin
+2 Paths, +2 Thresholds, +1 Travellers, +1 Crossroads
-2 Unexplored

The Key of Spheres (+2 Keys)




Demonjazz
Alatadriel
+2 Fire, +2 Foxes, +1 Bees, +1 Fertility
-2 Arrogance


Rosalin Ravenhold (+2 Wilfulness/-2 Mundane)



The Jojo
Avestra
+2 Nature, +2 Birds, +1 Reproduction, +1 Sky
-2 Primeval
Avestra's Perch
The Otherworld Amulet (+2 Dreams)




Batcathat
Ymon-Thal
+2 Life, +2 Death, +1 Balance, +1 Twins
-2 Unliving


Thal-Verys (+2 Souls/-2 Grief)



gac3
Timorin
+2 Drama, +2 War, +1 Games, +1 Asylum
-2 Fear






flyinglemur
Dulnori
+2 Fortune, +2 Ambition, +1 Dreams, +1 Sailing
-2 Stability






Maryring
Petr
+2 Water, +2 Healing, +1 Rainbow, +1 Medical
-2 Pain
+2 Moonpool

Nerassus (+2 Justice/-2 Flesh)



DarthArminius
Su'ule
+2 Sorcery, +2 Monsters, +1 Birth, +1 Metamorphosis
-2 Wilfulness






AlexanderML
Yir
+2 Sun, +2 Majesty, +1 Perfection, +1 Symbiosis
-2 Arrogance
+2 Stonesthroe Peaks

Valrion (+2 Giants/-2 Petulance)



Playerless
Godless


+2 Harken Steppe
+? ???

[The JoJo]

Avestra, Sunset Forest, Ebonbark Bay, 90/90 AP

For the sleeping avian goddess, centuries passed in the blink of an eye. Life for the rest of the world, of course, did not stand still.

Through the Silver Wings' connection to First Justice University, a trickle of knowledge about the outside world began to flow into Sunset Forest. The written word of the tongues was adapted for use by the Crow People, although it remained secondary to their oral traditions. Amberis was shaped into a myriad of new tools, some of which were used to dig small gardens around Crow villages where root vegetables and beans could be planted.

As knowledge of rival nations spread, it became apparent that many of the small communities that guarded the edges of Sunset Forest would be vulnerable to outside influence if they stood alone. Therefore, an alliance of the twelve most powerful tribes emerged to form the so-called Crow Republic, a confederation of Crow communities who would meet once a year to discuss a common border and trade policy. Internal matters remained the responsibility of each tribe. A number of other tribes remained outside the Republic, some closely aligned, a few abstaining entirely. Thus, the year in which the gods reawoke, Sunset Forest was divided as follows:

https://i.imgur.com/ZTzd7mp.jpg

The borders remained closed to outsiders, with trade permitted at two locations only -- a small settlement on the northern outskirts of the forest and also to the south of the great river. In this way, the Crow hoped to protect their land for generations to come.


~

Avestra awoke with a cry. She stretched her wings, unclenching her talons one-by-one as life began to return to her body after centuries of perching. To her relief, the forest around her was the same as ever.

The avian goddess soared once more around the world, observing everything that had changed since she was last awake. What she saw did not please her. Mortals had begun building furnaces in great numbers, burning the remains of her beloved trees, for what? Scraps of metal they had dug out of the ground. This would not do.

She let her mind meld with the other deities, letting them share her thoughts.

"For too long, mortals have run freely across the Oerth without consequences of any kind. I invite you all to work with me to create a divine code, so that justice may be served to those who deserve it."


20AP / 16DC - create a law of reality (an objective morality) - Karma with 2+ nature, +2 birds

Karma is a supernatural law of nature which dictates that all actions will result in consequences. This applies to all beings except for the gods themselves. Broadly speaking, morally just actions will result in desirable consequences for the person in question, while unjust actions will result in undesirable consequences.

Karma remains attached to the soul in question and will accompany them through the Passing and onto their next life, if it has not come to fruition in this life. Those with particularly negative karma may be redirected by Avestra's flock to the Pit of Snapping Beaks, where their soul will be pecked until enough karma has dissipated for them to be returned to the world.

The following divine code dictates what can bring good or bad karma:

-It is morally unjust to harm the natural world, or to enslave any living creature to do your bidding. Likewise, it is morally just to do the opposite.

Other deities may add further rules to this.

[Batcathat]

Ymon-Thal, 90/90 AP, The Landing, Boa Jungle

The air was buzzing with souls as Thal-Verys lowered herself towards the landing. She had kept Ymon-Thal's habit of manifesting high in the air above the mortals, though these days her decent didn't get nearly the same attention as it once had. A lot of the unbound souls in the area took the opportunity to fly past her for a closer look though, even if a lot of them probably saw her more often in the Passing than the living did here. Still, she liked the slow descent less for the drama and more for the last second chance to collect her thoughts.

She was always more nervous among the living, she reflected, no matter how many times she told herself there was little difference between a living soul and a dead one. At the edges of the Boa Jungle, in the land of the living, the dead and the living dead that was probably even truer.

As soon as her feet touched the ground, she heard a voice. "Greetings, great Thal-Verys, shepherd of the Passing, keeper of souls and a dozen other titles I can't quite remember."

"Greetings, Verys-Fanar", she replied, nodding her head towards the middle-aged man leaning against the Hall of the Yith, at the edge of the Landing. She'd known him since he was an apprentice amongst the Disciples of Thal and had personally recommended him for the Verysian Order. Something she suspected had played a considerable part in his speedy rise to head of the order. His combination of absolute loyalty and absolutely zero worship made him a good fit for the position, in her eyes. He did as she asked and never tried to guess what she could maybe, possibly, sort of secretly want.

Besides, at any given time he usually had several of the greatest minds of the Yith literally whispering in his ear and Thal-Verys suspected their words meant more than Fanar let on. Even the Yith wouldn't accept a dead leader but even with all their necromancy it seemed the dead controlled the living almost as often as the other way around.

"It's been so long, I started to think you'd forgotten about us", Fanar said with a half-smile.

"The Passing demands much of my time, you know this. Or you would, if you ever came to visit." His smile faded a little. Verys-Fanar was a man of many talents, but he'd never made it past the First Threshold of the Path of the Soul and many Yith children were more accomplished at necromancy. He could ask a master necromancer to send his soul to the Passing, of course, but for all his attitude Fanar was a prideful man, and she suspected that if he could not go of his own power, he wouldn't go at all. Not until his mortal time was up, at least.

An awkward moment passed before Fanar spoke up again. "Should we go then?" Before she could answer he started walking, waving at her to follow. Naturally, they left the Landing using the path between the Hall of the Yith and the Hall of Ymon. She'd picked that path at random one of the first times she manifested for the Yith and the next time she manifested, a few months later, she found it cobbled with stone and officially referred to as the Way of Verys.

Fanar led her through a busy marketplace, the crowd splitting in two to let them pass. Most of the people were living but there were more unbound souls than she'd ever seen in the mortal world before, and she sensed others bound to various objects and people. Even Ymon-Thal himself would be surprised by how much his people had blurred the line between living and dead, she thought. It had not gone unnoticed by their neighbors, she had heard reports of the Yith being called anything from "ghost people" to... uhm, "spirit fornicators", seemed like the most civilized translation.

There were some practical reasons for all the summoned souls, of course. Friendly dead served as everything from assistants and advisors to scouts and spies. Not to mention it was usually far easier to summon a soul with some necessary skill into yourself than actually learning it. But still, she suspected it had more to do with a growing inability to let go. Loved ones who had been dead for years were regulary summoned for company alone.

A woman brushed past and Thal-Verys, her arms full of firewood and her head full of a dozen different souls. Her eyes were unfocused and Thal-Verys wondered whether the woman's own will was any more than just another voice in the choir. Some things neither practicality nor emotionality could explain, it seemed.

"Look!" Whoever had shouted was soon followed by others, shouting the same or just gasping and pointing. As Thal-Verys turned around she saw everyone looking up and soon after the reason for it. In the air above the Landing two silhouettes were visible against the setting sun.

Ymon-Thal was back.

[Godzillarich]

The 1st Justice University: Gates

Cheek sat looking at the distance, a couple of bags length to his side. “... Here I go…”

“Where are you going?” a voice called out? Cheek turned back to see Stopit. “Why are you leaving the University?”

Cheek turned back towards the horizon, “I’m going to make that pickax wielding jackass pay.” he then started walking. Stopit ran up beside him. Cheek look at the strange tongue in more confusion? “What exactly are you doing?”

“Coming with you…” stop it responded. “... I don’t have anything else to do and you will be lonely traveling by yourself.”

Cheek stood in silence and then looked back to Stopit. “You do have a point… Besides, it doesn’t seem like anyone wants you here anyway. Maybe we can find you a new home on the way.” Cheek then started walking

Stopit smiled as he walked besides Cheek. “A place like me grass without being yelled at seems like paradise” And with that, they walked deep into the bay area. The home of the Empire.

Above of them watched déjà vu in his specter form. “...I better watch them, Just for a little bit.”

And this is where the journey of the student, the stranger, and the demigod begin.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1k8craCGpgs

_______________

???

Emerging from the ground where the cloaked figure and 2 of his associates wearing masks. They were surrounded by a bunch of horses and supplies “Alright put the ribs down…” The cloaked figure demanded.

“Why are we stopping here?” the masked Sinalese asked.

“Quiet you fool, don’t you sense the power coming from the bones?” the cloaked figure snapped back as he got out the pickax. “It would appear that our robbery happened at a very inconvenient time.”

“What do you mean by that?” the masked Sinalese asked

The cloaked figure kneeled down to the bones “It seems the gods are starting to come back.”

“WHAT!?” the Sinalese yelled in terror. “After all this time they come back now! This is horrible!” if they find out what were doing…”

“Silence fool!” the cloaked mastermind yelled. “All we need to do is keep a low profile, in fact maybe we can use the gods against themselves.” He then pointed at the Sinalese. “I want you to check and see if the fox is one of the returning ones and then report back to me.”

“Yes, sir!” the Sinalese got up upon the horse and rode off.

The tongue looked in confusion and worry. “Um, how exactly are you gonna take advantage of the Gods?”

The cloaked figure smiled as he raised his pickax. “Like this.”



-2 knowledge: The knowledge of the system will often make people extremely paranoid for fear of punishment causing many to live in horrible secluded lives.

-2 architecture: as long as they are near buildings made of magicite, karmic effects.

+2 unknown: unbeknownst to the raptor the bones resisted his dark influence, every time he tried to use the bones he would be unskilled with them mitigating their effects, for example, while the knowledge effect can still happen many of those in calm mind can make peace with it rather easily

[DarthArminius]

Su'ule
Su'ule was a mother goddess. She was happy that her people, the changelings lived a somewhat peaceful life under the empire. No long at war with a more civilized neighbor. However, there was something that kind of bothered Su'ule. Yes, the changelings could change form into something monstrous if they wanted to, and practiced at it. Su'ule's devotees often did so. But her philosophy was not wide spread throughout the world. Su'ule thought that she could bless the entire world with her will. She attempted to pass another law of reality, something that would change the fabric of reality around the whole world with a lengthy incantation.


- 20 AP out of 100 AP, 80/100
Pass Law Of Reality, Mandate Of Su'ule
The incantation has the following effects:
Upon death a mortal that is faithful towards their god may be given life as a monster of some sort as determined by the god. Those that worship Su'ule or follow no particular god follow the Mandate Of Su'ule. If an evil person who constantly abuses others dies and refuses to die, he can be actually transformed into a monster, but he won't like what he turns into. The worst of the worst would likely become something incapable of pleasurable emotions. Also, someone can die and a god could petition Su'ule to give them over to certain gods in their monster form. The virtues that most reflect someone's change into a pleasurable type of creation are : Love, Peace, Honor, Charity, Courage and Temperance. The vices that most reflect someone's change into something unpleasant are : Vanity, Greed, Gluttony, Dishonor, Cowardice and Hate.
"Love" means someone's love for their family or "partner".
"Peace" means someone's gentleness and consideration towards other people, especially in relation to conflict.
"Honor" means someone's respect towards others dignity.
"Charity" is closely tied with Love, but is more about the consideration one has towards people around them, whether in their family or not.
"Courage" is about how someone manages fear in their life. For example, if they do the right thing even though they are scared to do so, that counts as courage.
-
"Vanity" is being self-important.
"Greed" is about being selfish and demanding of more and more of something an individual wants, especially in regards to wealth.
"Gluttony" is about being hedonistic to the extreme, to the expense of others, or, an individual gorging themselves on food to the expense of someone els'es hunger.
"Dishonor" means someone's disrespect towards the dignity of others.
"Cowardice" is a consistent giving into fear, despite the consequences.
"Hate" is a menacing attitude towards other people, a desire to cause great harm of some kind to others.
People who know about this law can "Sail The Seas Of Life" by being as good of a person as they want to be, or as much as they can, thus influencing what they will transform into, especially in Su'ule's religion. In a way this law is very congruent with the Law of Karma.

+2 Sorcery : The thing changing people into monsters is Su'ule's own magic.
+2 Monsters : The transformation into monsters makes the domain of monsters apply.
+1 Birth : The first generation of monsters on the Earth made by the Mandate can have children.
+1 Metamorphosis : Yes, the change into monsters is a form of metamorphosis.




Avestra, Sunset Forest, Ebonbark Bay, 90/90 AP


20AP / 16DC - create a law of reality (an objective morality) - Karma with 2+ nature, +2 birds

Karma is a supernatural law of nature which dictates that all actions will result in consequences. This applies to all beings except for the gods themselves. Broadly speaking, morally just actions will result in desirable consequences for the person in question, while unjust actions will result in undesirable consequences.

Karma remains attached to the soul in question and will accompany them through the Passing and onto their next life, if it has not come to fruition in this life. Those with particularly negative karma may be redirected by Avestra's flock to the Pit of Snapping Beaks, where their soul will be pecked until enough karma has dissipated for them to be returned to the world.

The following divine code dictates what can bring good or bad karma:

-It is morally unjust to harm the natural world, or to enslave any living creature to do your bidding.

Other deities may add further rules to this.

+2 Sorcery: Those who transform into monsters will have greater power in Su Sorcery.
+2 Monsters: This is a monster transformation law.
+1 Birth: Monsters can still give birth to monsters of their own kind. Some monsters are asexual and can reproduce without mates, but other monsters might have to find other monsters of the same kind, but this ability to breed only lasts for one generation.
+1 Metamorphosis: Monsters will find that performing magics that transform themselves into other people/monsters are easier.



Su'ule thought this was a good idea, but it was missing something.
Help:

+ 2 Sorcery : those who did good things with their Sorcery would find themselves blessed by the Law of Karma, in finding other good Su Sorcerers more easily.
+ 2 Monsters : those who abused monstrosities just for being unnatural would receive bad Karma.
+ 1 Birth : those who found themselves at a crossroads at death, and were too bad to have something good happen to them, and also too good for a punishment could be born into a new life with the ability to receive more teaching on how to progress in the afterlife.
+ 1 Metamorphosis : as the birth entry above, only people who are in that situation could choose to be born with greater power as something other than Human, to make their life easier.

[Godzillarich]

The reef
The cloaked figure moved around the reef area with his tongue serve following behind him. The bones were strapped to the tongues back and he carried a bucket full of the masks in its mouth. Many of the residents stare at the individuals, many cannot believe after all these years all the masks would be found. “Greetings nut cases, after many years of scouring I have finally retrieve the stupid masks for you now let’s talk about our deal.” the cloaked figure announced in all of his arrogance.

The cult met him on the shore. Timorin's Lust and Apathy were both there with a small enterage of sorcerer's.

Timorin's Lust spoke first. "Thank you for your service to the cause. We shall gladly take them now."

The cloaked figure got in between the bucket of masks and Timorin Lust. “Hold on, what about your end of the bargain?” he demanded. “I didn’t spend literal decades of my existence just to get a thank you, where is leviathans corpse.”

Timorin's Lust nods and steps back, the staff drawing attention. Timorin's Apathy stepped forward. "It is on the Isle of Terrors. They felt they would be best served to guard it. I can take you to them if you wish."

“Take me there NOW! I’m tired of waiting…” the cloaked figure yelled in anger.

Timorin's Lust was gone with the masks, off to return them to their rightful owners. Timorin's Apathy nods. "Right this way. Follow me." He then shifts his neck into gills and dives into the water.

The cloaked figure and the tongue stood at the water’s edge. “So how are we gonna follow him?” the tongue asked. The cloaked figure pulled out his pickax.
_________

Apathy made it to the Isle of Terrors.

Just then 2 figures busted from beneath the ground in front of him. “Nice try jackass but I have the magical pickax.” He said smugly. He then started to look around. “... I’m a busy mage let’s get this over with. Where is Leviathan on this dirt heap?”

Timorin's Apathy points. The body of the Leviathan is very clearly on the beach behind the figure.

A massive grin appeared on the cloaked figures face. “YES! Finally, after all these years it’s mine…” he walked up to the stony corpse of the former monster of the bay. He then looked at his tongue compatriot. “Now then let us do a little bit of a gamble.” he then looked up to the sky. “OH Great Timorin I ask of you a favor, I have returned the masks that were wrongfully taken now I ask for a favor. Help me revive the God before the Gods. Help me revive Leviathan!”

Timorin appears and smiles. "I shall help you if you use this power you have gained to bless this land."

The cloaked figure smiled. "Sure should only take me second."

14 AP/10 DC: influence one immortal, create a single greater magical monster. Leviathan
https://images-wixmp-ed30a86b8c4ca887773594c2.wixmp.com/f/679109ea-22ab-41c1-82c0-674d354a1b1e/dbdklyx-79eacccd-4fe8-4c2e-b809-a06d849ad0bc.png/v1/fill/w_786,h_1017,strp/cave_fisher_squid_by_prodigyduck_dbdklyx-pre.png?token=eyJ0eXAiOiJKV1QiLCJhbGciOiJIUzI1NiJ9 .eyJzdWIiOiJ1cm46YXBwOjdlMGQxODg5ODIyNjQzNzNhNWYwZ DQxNWVhMGQyNmUwIiwiaXNzIjoidXJuOmFwcDo3ZTBkMTg4OTg yMjY0MzczYTVmMGQ0MTVlYTBkMjZlMCIsIm9iaiI6W1t7Imhla WdodCI6Ijw9MjAwMCIsInBhdGgiOiJcL2ZcLzY3OTEwOWVhLTI yYWItNDFjMS04MmMwLTY3NGQzNTRhMWIxZVwvZGJka2x5eC03O WVhY2NjZC00ZmU4LTRjMmUtYjgwOS1hMDZkODQ5YWQwYmMucG5 nIiwid2lkdGgiOiI8PTE1NDUifV1dLCJhdWQiOlsidXJuOnNlc nZpY2U6aW1hZ2Uub3BlcmF0aW9ucyJdfQ.kS4u5FWsyzYcB6sL AzJK1enY5rqWDm44rja-9LqEEII

The Creature of legend long ago banished by Graw and killed by Ostrom. The creature rebooked back in a more terrifying form to serve the cloaked figures’ needs.

+2 Knowledge: Leviathan has extreme intelligence, even rivaling Graw or even the other gods.

+2 mining: Even on lands when you are not safe from Leviathan The creature will be able to dig beneath the earth as well it as a can swim beneath the depths.

+2 architecture(pickax): Leviathan will have a mighty palace beneath the waves, this palace can travel beneath the waves to anywhere it needs to be.

-2 unknown: Leviathan suffers from his own ego, unlike the humble Graw. as such he will do unbelievably stupid mistakes because of his arrogance.

+1 Asylum so long as the Leviathan does no harm to the cult, they will be surprisingly safe and unbothered in Lucent Reef.

+2 War and +2 Drama because Timorin expects a lot of both from this beast. It will be prone to cause each

[AlexanderML]

(BIG thanks to Mega, Tom, and most of all Maryring who wrote so much of this! Note: This is happening in-between the age before and this one.)


In the darkness there lay a shining light who’s beauty some would describe as divine on sight, held in the hand of a man who’s heart was most wicked. It shone, it actually shone, this wicked man’s soul.

“Nyehehehehahahahehaha! Perfect!”


Varpier, Neiu, Vultur - The Temple of Sigrid:

The temple of Sigrid had very few travelers arrive these days, indeed it had been years since the last wanderer had arrived seeking entry into Sanctuary, and they had not even passed the trials. The Head Priest overlooked the increasingly dower temple, empty of prospective students. The Icebreaker's vigilance however spotted someone, indeed the arrival of three individuals on the horizon.

They wore garb like that of the people on this continent that came to the temple before, and other than the fact that one of them looked like they might have giant blood in them and that they were the first arrivals to this place in years, they were not seen as anything too strange. After informing the High Priest of these arrivals the Icebreaker went out to greet them.

From the High Priest's perspective it looked like the Icebreaker wandered off towards the prospective students, spoke with them, and after a moment began to walk with them back towards the temple. As they drew close enough to begin to hear them, the Icebreaker disappeared. And the High Priest did not care. Instead they hoped to talk to these travelers, happy to finally have some company here at the temple.

"Greetings, I assume you have arrived to-" he was interrupted by a snap of a finger, and was gone.



"Papa, did you need to do that? Those men were not trying to do anything bad right?" Said Neiu, looking over at the giddy sorcerer with a bit of worry.

"Nyehehe... Sorry Neiu, I could not resist. Anyways don't worry about them, they are not dead, just gone. When we leave they should return, with only the lack of our brief meeting being missing."

"Shouldn't we just kill them?" Asked Valtur, their uncaring feelings obvious.

"Nonono, while they don't get many visitors around here these days they still get the rare guest, either from these grey plains or from Sanctuary itself. I'd rather keep the risk of discovery to a minimum." Varpier said as they walked into the temple, the other two following behind him.

With a quickness hinting at familiarity from Varpier, the three quickly traveled through the temple into a special chamber.

"Ah, just as I remember it." Said Varpier "Now, before we go: Our hearts are pure in the eyes of all, our vileness contained, for within us shines innocent Neiu's love." She giggled a bit at that.

"Is she going to return to normal soon? It's been creepy having her act so... childish." said Vultur.

"Soon, I'll give her full heart back to her... after we arrive in Sanctuary." Said the mage, looking at the currently closed portal in the chamber. "I'll open this first."

Extending their hands in a practiced motion, thinking on the mindset often repeated in their mind again and again for this day, Varpier slowly began to form the key to open the portal. When the icey form of the key was made, Varpier looked over to Neiu and while not really understanding why they were doing this nonetheless energized the ice key.

"Perfect" said Varpier as they sensed the portal open to them. "Hurry now, it won't last long."



Sanctuary:

https://media.discordapp.net/attachments/649851793601462288/690514412297125929/Welcome_to_Hextml_2020-03-20T10_56_03.025Z.png?width=368&height=427

The trio arrived on the southern banks of the island, walking along the white path Varpier looked towards his two children stating: "Be on guard, for we have a great deal of work to accomplish before the day my Crimaka Magica Morte can be unleashed. For now, we shall return to my home village, if it is still there. I have a few things sequestered there from my youth that maybe of use to us, most promising being the underground basement that I once made. Oh how unskilled I was back then..." He said reminiscing.

"You want us to live in a basement till your ready?" Vultur said, disgusted with the idea.

"Nyehehe, don't worry about that. You should look like a normal human to them, and as long as you two act appropriately you should be fine to mingle with them. They should not notice us for the rest of the day, but even after that the charms on you should make whatever slip-ups you do easy to excuse. Just don't go using all your mana, alright? I cannot aid you if you lack the mana to fuel your wards, if needed restore them with any means necessary."

"Heh, sure. Thanks pops." Said Vultur, their crazed eyes showing their eagerness for taking the 'necessary' means even through the mask.

Varpier sighed, the eagerness was good but too much was dangerous. "Nyehhhh... where we shall gather is a few hours walk from here, we should arrive before nightfall, if the roads are similar to how they once were."


Under the outskirts of Varpier's home village, now town:

When the trio arrived at the town on the northwest side of the island, Varpier was mildly disappointed to find that their old workspace had been found and was currently being used as a storage facility. He was also mildly surprised and obviously annoyed to see that tongues had arrived on the island stating something to the affect of 'those overgrown lizards got in here'.

In the face of this Varpier decided to carve out a underground base of operations on the outskirts of the town, something that with his newfound power was a task that was considerably easier than in their youth. While sparsely furnished he quickly made rooms for his children and a large room to work his and Vultur's magic in; the two would have to spend a considerable amount of time gathering the souls and preparing the flesh.

Neiu for her part spent most of her time here among the people of Sanctuary, technically out scouting for the other two but used the time trying to experience the land that Varpier came from. Sanctuary was a fascinating place, even if you have to keep yourself from being noticed.




Toughness - Monsterous
Magic - Upper Class shamanism, Upper Class Enchantment, Minor Necromancy
Fighting - Skilled Swordsman

https://i.pinimg.com/564x/46/44/1a/46441aa38649015938dd06768a64243c.jpg

He brings creatures best left forgotten out into the daylight for all to see and fear. Beware! His crow companion holds his true soul, he shall reform in short order if it’s not destroyed! It cannot be far from his side, and is relatively easy to destroy once revealed.”



Toughness - Average
Magic - Master Class Enchanter, Master Class Necromancer, Average Water user.
Fighting - Poor

Other than her enchanted armor and weapons she likes to channel her mana through normally, she is skilled in the use of water magic. Beware! The souls that serve her greatly enhance her spells and keep her wards active, target the items that hold them first!
https://i.pinimg.com/564x/99/63/54/996354612b665ebe7c6ffa29f6f823c5.jpg


As the months passed the flesh began to engulf the earth beneath the people of Sanctuary, with each day's worth of expansion damning the people on the island more and more.

"By my blood do the ties of my perfect flesh spread across the land, not of me and yet once more it shall be." Was something Varpier said often as they poured their mana into the growing flesh that sunk int

When not working on that Varpier focused on the binding of souls, a tiresome endeavor that normally required weeks to get a single result; but with the remnant energy of the greatest of monsters on the island it was an endeavor that proved to be at least not a taxing distraction, only a time consuming one.

How through months on end had the mage and their children lay so hidden is a matter of precedence, for quite simply no one could and/or dare do anything like this before. Indeed, it was not the fault of those on the island for not noticing this sooner. Why would they think to look for what was growing beneath them?


The area where the fleshy intrusion has grown to, with the red circle indicating where Varpier is located and working from.
https://media.discordapp.net/attachments/662915126046883851/693853291423203428/Sanctuary2Neo.png

Finally the day came where the increasingly hard to implement rituals were having little effect in increasing the flesh's expansion, with Varpier getting things set into place for their quick and total victory.

In the main ritual chamber was a throne bound with enchantments of far-seeing and mental clarity, and on it was a crown of flesh who's tendrils extended into the walls, in the dark atmosphere of the room it lay waiting. Varpier called his children to him telling them of the wicked things he'd have them do, for unfortunately for him even his own inflated power after all this time did not extend towards the farthest edges of the island. Yet it was enough and to be expected. Gifting monstrosities and what words of magic to his children he could, he tasked them with doing what they will to those places where his own power did not reach.

"This is when my fury shall be unleashed, and if it's the end of either of you know that I truly enjoyed knowing you, my child and student." He said as his goodbye, and then laughed off as he willed them and their monstrosities to where he wanted them.

1. Varpier
2. Neiu
3. Vultur
https://media.discordapp.net/attachments/662915126046883851/694014396544057344/Sanctuary2Neo.png


Varpier was left alone staring at the throne and the crown that looked alive. It was a strange feeling for the mage, to be at the step before their high of power, to know how the world may change after seeing what the highest power a mortal can muster may bring. For he was perfect, and he had the voice of Su, in form and command he was at his peak. With this crown, he'll show all the people of Sanctuary what someone with such a form and voice can do. He took the crown into his hands and sat down.

"Oh Petr, glorious god of the waters, I hope you are watching this in your sleep!"

And they placed the crown on their head, instantly having it fuse with their skull and connect themselves to the rest of the flesh across the isle. Sensation alone nearly overwhelmed Varpier, yet they held on, trembling as he silently made the flesh to rise as he proclaimed.

"By my perfection I do gift blindness to all of mankind, and that mana when released into the world shall be rendered unless unless it was taken from the one who created it!" The temporary artificial extension of their power to command reality held, though it would quickly become unusable. It matter not to Varpier if it would last, he just needed it to last long enough.

And that's how the majority of Sanctuary's people lost the ability to use their magic and became blind in the face of the horror coming out of the ground. For the majority of the citizens affected it was a sudden blackness that came over them, and a tremors from the ground as fleshy tendrils broke through the earth and consumed them. Crushing and absorbing their forms; taking their mana to keep the extension spell going longer.

This killed massive amounts of people of all sorts anywhere near the afflicted areas with little to no resistance at first, but Varpier quickly felt that their perfectionist grip on reality, as abused as it is, would only allow one change to be active for much longer. "Nyehhhhh, fiiinne, have your s-sight back." He said strained, lifting the blindness command. Though they may fight back now at the tide of flesh before them, what could spears do against such a tide?



Vultur had arrived at one of the northern villages, he'd seen it briefly before and heard Neiu talk about it yet for the first time truly appreciating the sight of the place. The people there were about to let him have his fun after all.

Looking at the monsters he was gifted, Vultur honestly suspected he was the least liked of Varpier's children, the majority of the monsters given to them were tiny rates after all. Yet Varpier had gifted them a small number of fun creatures to command as well, though that was probably because they were true beasts, things Neiu did not have the druidic knowledge to command.

https://i.pinimg.com/564x/fd/ab/e5/fdabe581e78c572f36e0ffc669f3ac5e.jpg

"Hehehe, come on you pests it's time to show them what they've been ignoring. I wonder how many more of you little rats we'll find hiding in there."


Neiu appeared near one of the north western towns of the island, her troops behind her as she overlooked the objective she needed to capture.

"This town looks weak enough, I don't know why Papa needed me to bother with this anyway." She said with a childish grumpy tone to her fleshy and already slowly deteriorating troops. Each of them was vaguely humanoid in the shape of a soldier, but other than their swords Neiu was unsure any part of them was not made of just fleshy goop.

https://i.pinimg.com/564x/67/90/4c/67904cc848e7297d73bed1e7ed3d0a8e.jpg

It did not give her a response.

"Hmph, just go and attack already!" she said, following it up with a spell that actually conveyed the command. With it the small army of bloody soldiers and other fleshy monsters descended on the peaceful town just as the horror began elsewhere.



The Castle of Masters

To most everyone, today is a day like any other. The sky is partly cloudy. A gentle breeze blows in from the northeast. The sound of children laughing mingle with the sound of hammers upon wood and the scents of rice being fried up with shrimp and pineapple. The people of Sanctuary are preparing for the yearly festival of the pearlescent moon. The day Petr returned to the world, and the day they one year later entrusted their child to the care of mortals. It's a day meant for joy, family and togetherness. A day on everyone's mind. Most everyone.

"We've done the best we can." Archdruid Gabriel exhales deeply, his chin resting thoughtfully upon his open palm. "But whatever we do, it doesn't seem to stick. It's as if the disease lies in the earth and not the plants."

"Worse." The Master of Whispers holds up a simple plant. Wilted, with flecks of decaying red spots scattered across the surface of the stalk and leaves. "Whatever this disease is, it seems to be spreading. We found this outside the Castle walls this morning. Although." Ozu dares a slight smile on her face. "There are some good news. It seems the disease hasn't extended to the Moonpool. The current idea we're working with is that the purity of the pool keeps the disease at bay. Unfortunately, simply watering the plants with water taken from the pool isn't enough."

"This is bad." Dew'eyera rubs his chin thoughtfully as he walks over to one of the windows. He looks out at the workers outside. Aquamancers, druids and treewhisperers all banding together to study this peculiar new disease. "Should we call back Nerassus? Get his university involved in studying this disease?"

"At the very least we should ask him to increase his efforts on food production. If this continues, we'll need to have the university feed us, rather than the other way around." P'ua rubs his chin thoughtfully as he joins the Master Necromancer by the window. "We'll send a missive once everyone's back tonight."

Dew nods his head slowly. With Nerassus's help this disease will surely not be a big.

*CAR-RACK!*

Like the sound of a thousand windows shattering, a sudden sense of dread and loss fall across the Masters. This is followed by the howl of many voices crying out at once. "I can't see!" "What's happening?!" "My eyes!"

"Dew!" P'ua's sight blurs for a moment as an insidious will tries to rob him off his sight, but he manages to shake it off. The same is true for Dew, Gabriel and Ozu, but everyone else in the chamber with them are clutching their eyes or groping around in blindness. "What's going on?"

"My mana." Gabriel desperately waves his hands about, his brow furrowed in concentration. "I can't access my mana!"

"Me neither!" Dew groans in frustration. "I can't... wait. No I can. A smidge. But why?"

"Outside!" The ground rattles and shakes as tendrils of bloody flesh break through the soil. Tentacles of death and decay that flail about wildly, searching about for life. The Masters watch in horror as unfortunate souls caught outside are dragged into the writhing mass. "Dear Petr above what is that monstrosity?!"

"I don't know, but we have to get people to safety! Gabe! Rush to the gardens and guide people inside. Ozu! Get to the armory and start distributing weapons to anyone who can see. Dew! You said you have some mana. Close the gates!"



Misty's secret chamber
"Thanks again for helping me out." Misty grunts loudly as the heavy corpse is dropped down on the prepared stone slab. In the darkness of the cave, only lit up by a few tallow candles, it's hard to see anything. A fact Nani is very happy for.

"No problem. I love carrying corpses into creepy caverns for secret experiments."

"You joke, but I honestly think I'm onto something. See, the other Masters are convinced that it's some kind of disease. But honestly, it seems much more like a side effect of a curse."

"A what now?" Nani plants her hands on her side, peering over Misty who pulls out a diseased plant, stretching it out on the slab besides the corpse. "Don't be silly. No one on the island would even think to hurt anyone else here. And we're well protected from any outside attack."

"You sound like my dad. 'Now Misty. Leave this matter to the adults. You're still a little baby who doesn't know what she's talking about.' Thal, I hate that."

"He didn't say that."

"He might as well. Frankly, if this isn't the result of some weird interaction between Aquamancy, Transmutation and Necromancy, I'm gonna eat glowloam. Now please." The room falls quiet as a shiver passes through them both. "Whoa. Did you feel that?"

"I did." Nani spreads her palms apart, attempting to conjure up a small light, but nothing happens. "Gnghn... it's like my mana is locked."

"This is bad." Misty looks to Nani, then back at the body. She touches a finger to the corpse and to her relief manages to draw some of the mana out, creating a light on her own.

"How'd?"

"The mana of the corpse is still there. Doesn't matter how. Drain the corpse then warn Nerassus. Warn everyone!"


1st Justice University

Yet another day. Yet another meeting. Who would have thought that running a university would be so much logistics? Reinforce the outposts. Calculate granary stores. Organize field trips. Create support networks for path walkers. Reassure picketing Sinalese "Mothers against Education" that this is, in fact, not a den of sin and debauchery. Keeping certain individuals from actually turning the University into a den of sin and debauchery. And staff meetings. So many staff meetings. They kind of blur together, to the point that Nerassus would do most anything for

"HELP!"

The Astrological projection hits Nerassus with more force than he has ever experienced before. He immediately recognizes the message as being from Nani. And she has never sent a message with such terror or urgency behind it. "Sir?" The other board members look towards him with concern. "Is everything all right sir?"

"No. I have to go. Now!" He rushes out onto the balcony. The people below see the headmaster leap from the balcony while whistling loudly. A rainbow light flickers around Nerassus's form before he zooms into the distance at incredible speeds.


Port Petr

"Rawgh!" Tao growls as he dodges beneath the violent swing of the monster before him. It's hard to say what it actually is. It's like a twisting, vaguely humanoid mass of flesh that flows almost like water. It's hard to say if it has a heart or anything, but Tao plunges his spear into the monster. It twists and writhes, before sinking back into a pool of withered flesh, locking the spear within it's broken mass.

"Thal take you, monster." He pants and steps back, glancing about for anything to use as a weapon. In the wreckage of what was once a festival stand he finds a broken shaft of bamboo. It'll have to do. He wrests it free just as Kalepo rounds a corner. "Kalepo!?"

"I got as many as I could into a nearby house." Kalepo suddenly steps back as a another monster jumps down towards where he was a moment ago. Tao spins around quickly and jabs the pole through the flesh-beast's skull to kill it. "You got your mana back?!"

"No. I just never neglected my training." A cry of pain followed by the gurgling sound of blood from a torn out throat comes from one of the nearby streets. They rush towards the sound, finding three more of the flesh-beasts busy tearing apart one of the local guards. "Oi! Monsters! Take on someone who can fight back!" Tao throws the spear into one of the beasts, wounding it's left haunch. The beast whimpers, while the other two snarl at the two Masters.

"Tao! That was our only weapon!"

"Then be useful for once and make me a new one. C'mon beasties!" Tao roars as he rushes forward. He barges into one of the fleshy creatures, knocking it aside before turning to the second. It makes a clumsy swipe with after Tao, but only manage to lightly graze his thigh. Tao returns the favour with a wicked uppercut that knocks the beast backwards. The two mounds of flesh stagger backwards, only to be suddenly shot down by two arrows. "What the."

"Master Tao!" The transmuter glances behind him to see Tua and Na'omi, each drawing arrows from their quiver to ready their bows. "Thank Petr you're still alive."

"You can see?!"

"Yeah. The blindness is gone. From everyone." They rush to the transmuter's side. "Sir. Your commands?!"

"Excellent. Let's regroup around the town hall. Let's save the city!"


Northern Forest Sanctum
"Left." Bern twitches slightly as he sweeps his axe in an arc. He feels it sink into flesh, cleaving smaller bodies in half. He feels the brush of something flying past his ear, hitting something else with a loud thock. "Two steps back!" Something swipes before Bern's face. The only thing keeping his fear in check is adrenaline and the firm, commanding voice behind him. "Now right!" He chops hard into something, hearing it fall to the ground with a soft thud.

"Are we making progress Master Okeyani?!" Bern hears two quick thocks, followed by slumping sounds. "This is terrifying."

"You needn't be afraid. In all the lands you will find that I am the perfect archer." Okeyani's sharp eyes shift about the area. Dead animals lie scattered about the two. Rats mostly, but a few chickens, raccoons, and a horse who has had it's head chopped off by Bern. "Just listen to my commands and we'll." A nearby bush twitches and Okeyani spins about, aiming but not releasing the arrow at the girl staggering out of the undergrowth.

"Dove?!" Bern turns in the direction of the sound, blinking as the darkness over his eyes begins to yield. "Dove is that you?!"

"Bern! I knew I heard your voice." The girl hurries unsteadily towards the neanderthal, and Bern catches her in his arms, too happy to see her alive to properly process that he can see again.

"What are you doing here?! You should stay where it's safe!"

"No. No. I had to find you brother."

"A touching reunion." Okeyani slings her bow over her shoulder. "But we don't have time for this. Move with me. Now."

"Wait. I." Dove swallows, shaking her head. "The dead. We found out you can use mana of the dead."

"Oh?" Okeyani reaches down to grab a small handful of twigs. She squeezes them tight, frowning in concentration as the twigs shift and stretch out into makeshift arrows. "Excellent. Now we actually stand a fighting chance."


Lucent Reef

"Are you ready?"

"No. And honestly, I don't think you are either."

"It's not something you can really prepare for. It's a pointless question anyway. We were called."

"And we will answer."


The Castle of Masters: Astrology Tower
The castle itself shakes to it's very core as the tidal wave of flesh crashes into the gates. Still they hold, but the sheer force of the mass shakes the very foundation of the castle. P'ua whispers a quiet prayer of gratitude as he twists his hands together. The air around him crackles with energy before a crackling bolt of lightning shoots from his hands into the mass of flesh, making it recoil. Sweat is pouring down his face as he turns around and grabs another of several dead bodies stretched out on the floor besides him. He draws forth mana from the corpse, channeling it over to the sun tower to reinforce the frost enchantment upon the weapons. "Dew! How are we holding up?"

"The good news is that we've got everyone inside and the walls are still holding strong. There hasn't been a single casualty since we sealed the front door."

"And the bad news?"

"The bad news is... mana is still on lockdown. And we've emptied the morgue of corpses. These are the last."

"Curses." P'ua wipes sweat from his forehead. "Okay... when I'm dry, we should... we should grab cloth and tear it to strips. Tie them around the arrows. It reacts to temperatures."

The castle shakes once more as the flesh tackles into the foundation. Stone creaks dangerously and one of the dead bodies ends up knocked off the side of the tower. "I don't think we have the time..." Dew reaches into a pocket to pull out a small knife. He looks forlornly at it. "Tell Misty I love her, won't you?"

"Hrm? What the." P'ua grabs Dew's hand and forces it away. "Don't even think about it."

"I'm a Master. The mana I contain will be worth a hundred other corpses. And without mana, how can you protect anyone? You need my mana."

"I need you too!" P'ua frowns. "I'm not going to let you kill yourself just so I can harvest... your..." P'ua's eyes shine with renewed vigour for a moment. "Mana. Your mana! Perhaps."

A chilling feeling flows through Dew'eyera. His limbs suddenly feel weak and he bends forward to retch loudly. "Nghn. What... what hap..." His voice dries in his throat as he sees P'ua's form crackle wildly. He extends both arms to his side, sending arcs of crackling electricity that rains down upon the fleshy tides beyond the castle.

"Your mana! I can wrest it from you while you're alive!"

"How?"

"I'm a Su'Speaker." P'ua cracks his knuckles, a grin of relief spreading on his lips. "Get everyone up here. We've now got a fighting chance!" He spreads his arms out wide, howling in power as the air around him begins to twist. Dark clouds begin to gather, and a storm of hail and lightning begins to crash and sear into the tidal waves of flesh.

[AlexanderML]

(continued from above)


The wind howls around Nerassus's ears as he flies through the air. In the distance he can see Sanctuary and how it grows as he rapidly approaches. The layer of mist around the island is supposed to shield it from the outside world. But when he rushes through the barrier and into the airspace of the island, what he sees breaks his heart. People fleeing in wild panic from a twisted taint that has overtaken most of the southern part of the island. A peculiar sensation flows over him. Something is blocking his ability to call upon mana. As he swoops low over the castle he sees that they are holding their own through lightning and ice that push back the enroaching river of flesh. He turns to look towards the nearby cavern, where he spots Nani and Misty.

"Master Nani!" He swoops down, landing by the cavern mouth. "Misty. Thank mother you're all right. What's happening?"

"We don't know." Nani wrings her hands together with a thoughtful frown. "All mana on the island suddenly... left us. We're only able to cast spells by channeling mana from the bodies of the dead." Nani looks towards the castle, a sad frown on her face. "They're fighting back fiercely, but who knows their limited mana supplies will last?"

"Papa kept bodies in the cellar for necromancy practice, but even with all those." Misty shakes her head. "Nevermind. What should we do?"

"Get people to safety. You still have Chern's divivice right?" He nods towards Misty as he pulls out a small device of his own, passing it to Nani. "So you take this Master Nani. Find people and bring them to safety in the diviworld. Use the rainbow carriage!"

"Okay. What will you do?"

"I'm going to fight back this tide of flesh!" Nerassus gestures to the scarf around his neck. It unfurls into a rainbow cloak that billows in the wind behind him. And with a howl of might he charges towards the castle.


Northern Forest Sanctum
Vultur tsks softly at the sight and sound of thunder and ice crashing upon the castle. That's where all the fun is, and here he is, commanding rats to nibble on weaklings. Scraps of a plate, rather than a delightful buffet. But still, it's something that must be done. With an idle thought he directs a swarm of rats into a nearby house, listening to the cries of fear and terror as the people inside desperately try to escape. Soon the screams will stop, and he will move on. Lather. Rinse. Repeat. He'd give most anything for some sort of excitement.

There's a sudden blur of movement in the house. A neanderthal man comes running out of it at incredible speeds, carrying an older woman and a child in his arms. The adults are covered in bitemarks, but are still alive. At last. Something fun. He takes a step towards his victims. Only to feel a sudden sting as an arrow pierces into his neck from the side, boring straight through his flesh and out the other end.

"Bern, are the civilians okay?" Following the neanderthal is a tall woman. Graceful and elegant, somehow in spite of being covered in mud and blood.

"They'll live. Do you have any mana left over to heal them?"

"Not if they'll live. Get them to the safehouse and see if you can find any oil so we can burn these rats out."

"Okay. I will and BEHIND YOU!"

The woman dodges forward just in time to avoid a sword swing that viciously embeds itself in a nearby barrel. "Tsk. You moved."

"What? How?" Okeyani stares dumbfounded at Vultur's still standing form, with the arrow still sticking out of his neck. "How are you still alive?"

"Don't really matter now does it." Vultur grabs the arrow and pulls it slowly out of his neck. "The important thing is, soon you'll be dead."


Port Petr
"Third platoon, cycle with fifth. Second, relax your skin. Pull back and support the escape fleet. Kalepo, where are my arrows?!"

"Coming, coming." Kalepo wipes away the locks of sweat drenched hair that fall over his face to get a better view of the quivers in front of him. Almost done. He brushes a hand against the lifeless form beside him, and the other hand glides across the metallic tips, leaving them sparkling with blue-white frost. He folds them all into a quiver and rushes over to Kalepo. "Here you go."

"Thanks. That'll be enough to." His eyes snap skywards. A small globe of water flying towards the group. "Incoming!" He throws himself on top of Kalepo, channeling the dregs of his remaining mana to harden his skin. Kalepo can only sputter in confusion when the globe suddenly explodes, sending shards of ice flying every which way in a rain of death that stabs fleshmonster and sanctuarian alike. Even Tao couldn't fully resist the blast, as his sides bleed from wounds caused by the tiny shards of ice.

"Ugh. Seriously?" A female voice calls out, stepping into view of the main street. "That almost didn't kill any of you. Who would've thought a little port town could be so... resilient." She steps past one of her own troops, frozen and broken by the explosion of her spell. "You know if you'd just kill yourselves it'd make this all a whole lot easier on everyone." An arrow shoots towards Neiu, but a small plate on her body glows, conjuring up a large shield that easily blocks the shot. "Seriously? Is that the best you can muster?"

"Nghn. Monster." Tao grunts as he draws another arrow, gritting his teeth to ignore the bleeding wound in his side. "I will end you for all the suffering you've caused." Another arrow. Another shield manifesting to block the blow.

"Oooh. What a big scary man." Neiu points a finger towards Tao. A thin beam of blue light shoots out that Tao barely manages to avoid. It hits a building behind him, where it covers the whole facade in ice. "I'd say that you need to chill, but. Oh what the heck. I'm gonna say it anyway."

Tao growls and thinks to lunge forward when he's yanked aside by Kalepo. "Nghn. Let go."

"No, you're bleeding, and you can't hurt her."

"What are you talking about?!"

"Look, her charms. I recognize those. She's decked out in enchanted items. Probably fuelled by some kind of necromantic binding that can activate the enchantments whenever they're needed. Come." Kalepo pushes Tao into a nearby house, dragging him over to a bed to quickly create a makeshift bandage.

"Nghn. We don't .... have time for this. My guards."

"Your guards are buying us much needed time. Look, these monsters of hers. They're stupid. None of them dove for cover from the ice bomb. So if we take her out, we win."

"All..." Tao grunts, his vision swimming a little as he tries to sit up. "The more reason... for me to get back out there."

"No. We need a plan first. Now listen."


"You're really annoying. You know that?" Neiu twists her hand and clenches her fist, conjuring up a thick sheet of ice beneath a small group of warriors, among them Tao and Na'omi. The two neanderthals stagger, but manage to throw themselves and a few others aside as a tidal wave of water follows, sending the remaining guards smashing into the walls behind them. "I would have thought you'd have the sense to die. But no. You're really making me work."

"So sorry." Tua growls as he gets back up and rushes towards Neiu. He shifts his spear this way and that, but every attempt to stab at the witch is hampered by a shield shifting and blocking the attack. While Tua keeps the shields busy, Na'omi draws an arrow, aims carefully, and lets it fly. It slips past the shields, but just as Na'omi thinks she's hit flesh, a sheet of armour slips up to cover the side of Neiu's head, shielding her from the arrow.

"Wow." Neiu growls and glares towards Na'omi. "I almost felt that. For that, you'll die horribly." She flicks one hand towards the siblings, conjuring up tendrils of water. They flow out and wrap about their heads, hoisting them up and locking them in place in a prison of water. "It's funny isn't it? I mean, you worship the oh so pure Petr. And now you get to die in their embrace."

"Let them go!" The voice of the defense leader brings her attention to another road. He's got an arrow aimed at her, but it seems obvious that he's barely able to maintain composure.

"Hrm. Nah." The arrow is let go. And as always before a shield springs up to block the blow. "You really don't learn do you. Now I." Her voice trails off when instead of shrinking back down the shield remains standing longer than it should, before toppling over onto the ground. "What are you doing?!" She shrieks.

"I knew it!" A voice shouts from somewhere. "Attack the witch with everything you've got! That's when the enchantments are the most vulnerable!"

The general gives a twisted grin as he shoots another arrow. Instinctively Neiu shifts her attention from the neanderthals to create a wall of ice, but this gives the other surviving guards a chance to regroup. They launch a barrage of arrows towards Neiu, and each time one of her defensive enchantments triggers, she feels the magics around it being unbound. "Ghn. Not fair. You shouldn't be able to use magic!" Her eyes go wide as she channels her necromancy into a chilling wave of soul-wrecking energy. A draining spell for a desperate attempt to wrest their souls out of their form. "Just die already!"

"Not if I can help it!" The spell is interrupted as a blur of blue fur crashes into Neiu, throwing her to the ground. Immediately the few defensive enchantments she has left spring to life, creating twirling blades that attempt to carve into Nerassus's flesh. But despite all the magic in them, they cannot pierce the divine blessings upon his flesh. The demigod growls in rage as he begins to tear away at the charms and enchanted weapons, using Chern's power of decay to break the enchantments away until all that remains is a single defenseless Neiu.

"No!" She cries out in desperation, clawing at the demigod above her. "Let me go! I swear, father will destroy you!"

"He won't." Nerassus glares coldly as he sends a surge of his divine power into Neiu's form, sealing her up within her own body, where she can neither see, nor hear, nor feel anything. Nerassus stands up, frowning as he looks about himself. "Are you okay?"

"We will survive." Kalepo steps out of a nearby house, rushing over to support Tao who no longer manages to remain standing. "Do you know what's going on?"

"Nani should be here soon. She'll fill you in. Anyone who can still fight, we're regrouping outside the castle to save Haven."


Okeyani grunts in exertion as she narrowly avoids yet another swing of Vultur’s sword. With her spear she has an advantage of reach, and Bern and a few others are so far managing to keep the larger beasts at bay. But no matter what she isn’t making progress. This… man is shrugging off blows that should have killed him long ago. Meanwhile Okeyani is feeling the burn of exhaustion. Her breathing is getting ragged, and her movements are getting sloppy. It’s only a matter of time before she slips up and makes a mistake.

“You know.” Vultur lunges forward, getting his sword stuck in another crate. Okeyani manages another stab in his thigh as she steps back. “I was expecting this to be boring.” With a gesture Vultur commands another flock of rodents to lunge towards Okeyani, forcing her to retreat up a nearby ladder onto a sawmill.

“Ngh. Just die already.” Okeyani stabs down at Vultur, keeping him from using the ladder to follow her. “Doesn’t matter how many times you get up. I’ll stab you until there’s nothing left.”

“Kekekeke. Not if my rats don’t nibble you up until there’s nothing left.” Vultur directs the rats to crawl up the support beams of the structure, forming a writhing wave of black and brown that squeaks and crawls towards Okeyani.

“Back!” Okeyani’s voice thunders, but the swarm refuses to heed her voice. She sweeps her spear into the mass, but for every rat she cuts down, another two takes its place. “Nghn. Bern! I could really use some more of that oil now.”

Vultur cackles gleefully as Okeyani is left to flail wildly with both spear and legs to keep the rats at bay. “There’s no one who can help you now. But just to be sure.” He extends his senses through the wilderness around him. Ah yes. There’s more animals nearby to help speed the process along. All he has to do is reach out, twist, and… no response.

Blinking, Vultur turns towards where he sensed the animals. A family of wild dogs, they are rapidly approaching. But something is wrong. He can’t dig into their minds as he normally can. Can’t direct them.

”Okeyani!”

“That voice. Nerassus?!”

In a cacophony of roars, growls and howls the undergrowth bursts at the seams to spill forth a whole menagerie of beasts. Bobcats and lions, hyenas and painted dogs, and even a lumbering bear all crash like a wave upon the rats. Vultur finds to his surprise that the rodents no longer respond clearly to his commands. His enhancements struggle against their natural inclination to listen to the demigod.

”I got you.” Nera jumps up to the platform. With one hand he grabs the solarmancer in a protective embrace, and with the other he conjures up a gust of wind that send the rats flying backwards.

“Petr’s brat?!” Vultur growls as he steps backwards. “No way am I going to stick around for that.” He spins on his heels and sprints away as quickly as he can.

“No way am I letting you escape.” Okeyani grabs her bow and starts to ready an arrow.

”No, let him run.”

“Nera?!”

”Instead, turn your attention up. And a little more to the left.”

Okeyani frowns, but following Nerassus’s direction her eyes fall upon a peculiar bird flying away from them. “The bird?”

”That is your target.”

Okeyani lets her arrow fly.


Haven: Under siege

The largest city upon Sanctuary, now ruined by tendrils of liquid, all-consuming flesh. ”Fellows. Friends. Citizens of Sanctuary!” Nerassus strides confidently before the crowd of survivors gathered on the hill overlooking the city. ”I know you are all tired and exhausted, broken by the events of today. But we are not done. The flesh continues to pulse and expand. If it isn’t stopped, it will eventually consume the whole island. That we cannot allow to happen!” He adjusts his cape, hoping and praying that he manages to look inspiring where he stands. ”I will end this. But I need your help. While I seek out the source of the corruption, I need you all to search around for survivors. Misty and Master Nani carry divivices. Bring survivors to them and they will take them to safety. Master P’ua, you will assault the flesh and keep it from growing. Those of you with lots of mana left, follow him and let him channel from you. The rest, do not engage the flesh. If you get trapped, use fire and ice to stun the flesh. I don’t want any of you dying out there! Now. You have your tasks. Know that what we do here today will echo throughout all the history of the world! FOR SANCTUARY!”

“FOR SANCTUARY!”

The crowd flows towards the city, splitting up into smaller groups to organize their search and rescue. The exception being Nerassus. He turns his attention eastwards. With the blessing of Ymon-Thal he can sense the souls of all living things around him. And in all his time on Sanctuary, there is a soul that he has never felt the same from.


Above the Throne Crowned in Flesh:

As Varpier observed through their throne and the crown, everything was going according to plan until the demi-god had appeared, shining in the sky to dispel the evil they had brought. No matter thought the mage as they tore apart another couple dozen inhabitants in their mind’s eye, the objective was almost reached and this confrontation had to occur. What infuriated the mage was that the demi-god dared to hurt HIS children. It was an unfair slaughter, for how could they defend themselves against such a force? Varpier grimly smiled, even death was something that could be reversed… somewhat. But for now the threat had to be addressed if the ascension was to go as planned.

Varpier rose, disconnecting themselves from the crown, and taking on their perfect form. This would have to be quick, the law they had in place and the ritual spell extending it’s affects would fade in short order if he did not return.

He keeled in prayer, laughing to himself a little in anticipation [COLOR="#800080"]"Nyehehe glorious goddess of my voice, be with me for I love you. And glorious god of waters, be with me as well for I shall win, no matter your spawn's blessings."

Feeling their foe draw near, Varpier was prepared.



As Nerassus closed in on the wicked mage’s location the earth cracked and tore itself apart, consuming a vast track of land as emerging from the pit bellow was the villain that had brought about this madness. (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-X1-uqDYa7w) It flew in the air on wings crimson shadow, it’s furious aura withering what life was close by as it ascended.



WARNING! WARNING! Varpier approaches!
Toughness: Beyond Most Mortal Power
Magic: Su'Speaker Master
Paths: Perfectionist of the 5th, First Among Perfection
Fighting: Above Average in hand to hand and swords.

Beware! Only the gods can strip them of their power! Beware! All mortal magics fail against their current law! Beware! Their perfection grants them near immunity to most weapons!

He cannot touch the power of those who are divine! He cannot stop the power of Paths, especially those used by Masters! The power of the divine should be used to defeat them! They can only protect themselves from the divine so much! With time his power will crumble!

Against this foe a valiant hero may yet win the day!

https://i.pinimg.com/564x/43/b8/0c/43b80c38459b041f237a75971ab2c275.jpg


Varpier glared at Nerassus, though the intense scrutiny thrown at Nerassus found nothing to latch onto. (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=k6Xv9Dbk3e4)

"You arrive, child of the Primordial Pair. Your putrid power has no hold on someone as perfect as me, making me your doom. I shall defeat you then shatter the last of this land's hope."

Using what local command they had, Varpier commanded pillars of tendrils to shoot up at Nerassus; however, they missed their mark as he dodged out of the way of each one. Looking up at Varpier Nerassus commented “So that’s how. Father’s path of perfection. I knew I recognized that influence. But you’re not a god, and your arbitrary rules no longer apply to me.” Clutching their fist they locally shattered the anti-magic law applied to them.

Varpeir sneered, “Tch, no matter! By my voice! By my command! Rain of crimson fire destroy my foe!” and quickly added “Shadows beneath be my blade!” as a violet sword phased into existence.

It was easy enough for Nerassus to divert enough power and focus into a protection spell against the bloody red flames that started to fall around him. Doing so as Varpeir, of all things, charged at him. Even enlarged as he was, Varpier was still quite small compared to the demi-god, and Nerassus still knew how to defend themselves quite well.

As Varpier’s blade came down and was deflected by Nerassus, a huge booming noise sounded as a dark sphere enveloped the pair. Again and again Varpier struck, and again and again the booming noise was heard across the island as the two struggled against one another.

Suddenly as the newest sphere of darkness enveloped the pair, Nerassus felt a horrible sting in his back. A tendril had stabbed him in the back while he could not see and the booming covered it’s noise. It… did not stop even after jumping away from the tendril the flesh stuck to his own kept on festering, if it were not for their healing factor it might have consumed him immediately. Nerassus immediately jump back from Varpier, the mage in their pride said with gloating in their voice.

“Nyeh, you are incredibly resilient are you not? I did not think it possible to survive that strike, it should have consumed you in an instant.”

“I just have to remove the infection...” Nerassus said, speaking a spell that instantly removed the fleshy infection. “… and I will not fall for the same trick again.”

“I will win!” Varpier roared out enraged at how easily their infection was removed. He summoned by their will rocks, fire, ice, thunder, and other attacks but none of them had nearly the same effect. Shortly after Nerassus began to use their own magic, magical attacks that did wear down Varpier. Slowly but surely the tide of the magical battle was clear, Nerassus was supreme.

The canerous flesh that had spread across the island was dying, besides the small amount near Varpier and Nerassus, the progress that Varpier had made was quickly becoming undone.

Still, Varpier charged again, more aggressive this time. Nerassus, knowing the tricks Varpier would pull now, was careful to not let Varpier get another decisive hit in. After a short back and forth again, Nerassus brought down a mighty blow on Varpier's chest that caved in the enchanted armor.

Willing themselves to be away from Nerassus Varpier teleported back, clutching his chest. Blood seeping from their mouth because even though Varpier could heal instantly, he was prevented in doing so due to the armor still being lodged in his chest.

“Nyeehhh, I cannot continue this, I must leave Sanctuary. It’s unfair. So unfair.” He said keeping his distance and countering (while he still could) the magic used against him. “Know that while you may have stopped my ascension, Nerassus of the primordial, he has surely succeeded by now.” Their helmet melting away, the bloody face of Varpier laughed as his form began to fade away.

“Nyehehehe, by my command my voice cannot be stopped by even the heavens, and by voice my sorrow and joy become one with shadow, to go to a land where water is a forgotten dream.”

Something in the air seemed to crack as Varpier faded away and left the island, it was wholly unnatural.

And so with Varpier’s departure of Sanctuary the rest of the flesh decayed, and magic returned to the island of Sanctuary as the abused power of perfection faded.

[Megadraco]

The Cosmos, Kahar-Djin, 80 AP

Once more the planets aligned. Once more, Kahar-Djin walked down the celestial path, their mind teeming with centuries spent exploring the cosmos. They were about to extend their domain, find where they were needed, when they felt a glimpse of something… New. Something different. An unknown power, not attuned to any of the gods, perhaps, even, older than any of them.

Soon after, they felt the call of the god Timorin, inviting the gods to a ceremony, in which he would divine the true nature of the artefact. Kahar-Djin noted this, and made plans to attend.

That, however, wasn’t the only power they felt, as they pilgrimaged back to Oerth. Divine power, from not one, but two different gods, rippled through the universe, attempting to alter its very fabric.

The first of these powers was one Kahar-Djin already knew very well. The monstrous, chaotic power that had created Sorcery was once again attempting to bring chaos into the world. This law would turn humans into monsters, cursed to roam the lands, bringing forth who knows what amounts of destruction. This could not be allowed to pass, the Divinity had to take a stand against it. And that started, of course, with the Paths of Divinity.

Kahar-Djin extended their Domain, reaching toward the Paths created centuries ago. They brought forth the divine power within them, to repel this wretched curse.

Kahar-Djin hinders Su'ule's action by making it so anyone who travels a Path of Divinity will not turn into a monster (-2 Paths, -1 Travellers)

While in contact with the Paths, Kahar-Djin turned to address the second power. This one was much more agreeable. Interesting, this Law of Karma. It was known to the Divinity already that actions, even the smallest ones, could have a ripple effect leading to larger unintended consequences. To deem these ripples positive or negative and turn them back on its source was certainly quite clever. They attuned the Paths of Divinity to the Law of Karma, and watched it take shape around them. Yes, this would do quite nicely.

Kahar-Djin helps Avestra's Law of Karma. Any who embarks upon a Path of Divinity will find that acting in accordance with their chosen Path grants them positive karma, while acting in opposition to it will grant negative Karma (+2 Paths, +1 Travellers). Furthermore, as a Traveller reaches higher thresholds, they'll find that the amount of positive and negative karma accrued by acting in accordance to or in defiance of their Path becomes greater (+2 Thresholds)



Finally, Kahar-Djin reached Oerth. With all the changes going on, the Divinity decided it was definitely time to enact the idea that had been brewing in their mind for centuries. They extended their Domain once more, but this time attuned to one specific resonance: Whoever held the Key of Spheres at this time. Quickly, they recognized the location of the artefact, and in an instant, they were in front of a young man, gazing at the night sky through a magicite eyepiece. He was mumbling to himself,

“Th-The planets are aligning… But that can only mean… Y-Yes, the energies flow through them, down to Oerth. The gods a-are returning! I-I must tell the others!”

So absorbed was he in his revelation that he didn’t notice the actual god next to him until they cleared their throat. The young man started and turned to look at the masked figure before him, then fell to his knee.

“K-Kahar-Djin! Y-You have returned with the alignment of the planets, as the legends tell!”

Kahar-Djin looked at the man impassively. Their final stunt had apparently done away with the last shreds of anonimity this form had. Oh, well. They gestured the man to stand up, then asked,

“Young man, do you hold the Key of the Spheres?”

With shaky hands, he reached down his shirt and pulled out the beautifully crafted key, which was tied to a cord and hung from his neck.

“Oh, no, please keep it. That key was meant for mortal hands. Now tell me, young man, what is your name?”

“Kahar-Djin, my… My name is Dem-Ay..”

“Very well, Dem-Ay,” said the Divinity, as space bent in front of them, twisting into the threshold of a Path to a faraway land. “Come with me. Do not be afraid; you hold the Key of Spheres. The world is yours to traverse.”

Slowly, the young man pressed the key against his chest, and then began to follow behind Kahar-Djin. In an instant, they were gone.



In the instant Kahar-Djin was walking through the Path, their silhouette shifted, his mask and robe replaced by her armour, his staff disappearing in one hand as her shield shimmered into being in the other. When the two figures appeared at the gates of the Northern Monastery, the eyes of the guard stationed there opened like plates, and Bron was immediately called for. The immortal walked through the gate, a blue and gold sash draped from shoulder to hip. His body had clearly changed: He was at the peak of physical perfection, and noticeably taller. His skin was cleansed of all blemishes, and where once his head was shaven, he now had a long mane of flowing hair. And yet, this picture of physical perfection fell to a knee, brought his gaze down, and said,

“My Master. You are welcome to our humble monastery. May I be permitted to ask what brings you to our abode?”

“Rise, Bron. You will soon see with your own eyes what brings me here. I must ask, are there any meeting halls here in the Northern Monastery? This is of utmost importance.”


Bron stood, and after a simple nod, turned and walked toward the Monastery. Kahar-Djin and Dem-Ay followed behind.

“Is he… Always like this?” asked the young man. The Divinity considered the question for a second.

“Well, he’s gotten taller.”

The three reached the monastery and walked across its courtyard, until they reached a large building. Bron opened its door, and the three walked into a grand hall. While of austere, like the rest of the Monastery, it did hold a great table, with many seats surrounding it.

“Yes,” said Kahar-Djin. “This will do perfectly. Now, please, close the door.”

Bron closed the door, and Kahar-Djin lifted both hands up.

“I call on the souls of long gone Masters of the divine Paths of Power, Sight, and Wisdom. You who have been exempted from reincarnation, come forth and take physical form within this room to take part of the Council of Masters.”

As the Divinity finished speaking, three figures made themselves manifest: An old man, face weathered by time, surrounded by a veritable armory of weapons; an old woman, seemingly ordinary save for a glint in her eye that betrayed great wisdom; and a slightly younger woman, wearing a magicite eyepiece, looking around in awe at this new location she found herself in.

“Bron, Dem-Ay, allow me to introduce you to the first Masters – err, aside from you, of course,” they corrected themselves, nodding towards Bron. “These are Gil-Galad, first Master of Power; Senya, first Master of Wisdom, and Ayla, first Master of Sight. And, Dem-Ay, Ayla was also the first holder of that key hanging from your neck.”

Hearing that, the woman turned her attention toward the young man.

“Oh, you’re the holder of the Key of Spheres now? That’s fantastic! Oh, I remember when I used to hold the Key, all the mischief I’d get up to, all the adventures it would take me on. Why, I saw some of the great battles of our time, protected many a person in dire straits with my Sympathy, there was even that one time when it took me to-” she blushed. “Oh, but I shouldn’t tell that story here, no, no. So come on, tell me, what adventures has the Key of Spheres taken you on?”

Dem-Ay stammered.

“I-I- Th-The Key of Spheres, to hold it is a tremendous honour, and one not to be undertaken lightly. O-One has to guard it, protect it with their life.”

Ayla actually looked disappointed at this.

“Of course it’s an honour, but that doesn’t mean you should place it behind bars, never to be used… Metaphorically, of course. Let it take you on some adventures, live a little! You’ll be a better Holder, and a better Traveller of Sight. Besides,” she leaned in, whispering conspiratorially. “As many secrets as that small key holds, if there’s one thing I’m certain about, is that it was made to be used.”

“Oh,” interrupted Kahar-Djin. “Speaking of the Key, I nearly forget. This part is crucial! Dem-Ay, please, attune the Key of Spheres to the door of this hall."

Dem-Ay glanced at said door.

“But... How? It doesn’t have a lock!”

Ayla smirked.

“And you’re going to let that stop you? Go ahead, press the Key against the Threshold, and its secrets will be revealed.”

The young man looked at her quizzically, then approached the door. He pressed the key to it, and indeed, where it touched, the wood drew away, revealing a keyhole. He slid the key inside and turned it. Then, he withdrew the artefact.

“It- It is done,” he said, stil trying to process what he had seen. “The Key of Spheres is attuned.”

“Perfect!” said Kahar-Djin. “Now, hold it up in front of you.”

“Like this?” asked the young man, as he lifted the key up, in front of their face.

“That’s right! Now...” the Divinity extended a hand toward the Key of Spheres, without touching it. His other hand was stretched in front of him, palm up, and in an instant, many copies of the Key appeared, only to vanish a second later. One of them reappeared, floating, in front of Bron, who took it and inspected it.

“Very well, then,” finished Kahar-Djin. “Our invitees should be here any second.”

(18 AP / 14 DC) Create a +2 domain/-2 weakness demigod

Kahar-Djin creates the Council of Masters (+2 Undetermined/-2 Deliberation). This is a Council formed, first, out of any Master of the four Paths of Divinity Kahar-Djin created (Power, Discipline, Sight, Wisdom), living or dead (+2 Paths, +1 Travellers). Masters of any other Paths are not automatically part of the Council, but are invited to join. Each living Master receives a copy of the Key of Spheres, that, of course, doesn't hold nearly the same amount of power. All the copy can do is bring the Master to the hall of the Council and take them back to where they came from. (+2 Keys) It should be noted that the individual members of the council are not (necessarily) demigods, and do not, as individuals, hold this divine power. Only the Council as a whole holds divine power, and the decisions they make carry that weight.

[Godzillarich]

In the bleak desert a single figure walked across in blistering heat, a Choblin. “Help! Mommy daddy, please help me.” the figure then collapsed on the sand. “Help!”
Over the centuries

As a mirage, the shadow beneath the child had two points of light appear, it quickly expanded and drew itself out to protect the child from the heat. Laughing a bit it said: "Nyehehe, little one who's heart is fierce, what are you doing alone out here?"

The small raptor looked up at the strange figure “I was told by mommy and daddy I was too violent. They said if I stay here long enough my violence would go away.” the child then looked around. “They said they would be back for me but it’s been so long and I’m scared.”

The shadow took in the words silently for a moment before raising from their form what looked like a shadowy hand pointing out into the horizon. It said with quite a bit less laughter. "Is that so? Well, can you see over there? My home is nearby, we can wait for them there. I am Varpier the guardian of the lost, and until you are found you shall be safe there, I promise you. My so- ward Vultur would love to meet you I can tell, though he is quite a bit older than you. He is in a similar situation."

“Okay…” the child said. “... Thank you Mr..”
----

(Ten years later on the day)

After years of work, the youngest of the wards of Varpier was making progress in the curriculum that their guardian had made for them. It always seemed a bit unfair to the choblin how easily the others learned magic, and went from the basics of 'life-care' that Mr. Varpier had set out for them towards different fields; the choblin's natural aggression was something that made them more likely to tear at something rather than study after all. The girl Neiu and the apparently favorite Garus did not really like them, Vultur enjoyed their attitude, and Mr. Varpier himself seemed to just take it all in stride.

Finally though, they had studied long and hard enough the power of the soul and body to extend their life, something Varpier was sure to place the importance of in each of the children. The choblin would be tested, though in a way they had dreamed of for years.

As Neiu and Garus were setting up the 10th birthday party for the choblin, Vultur entered the doorway into their room. "Hey bro, Pops has something to show you. Says you'd like it."

The Choblin’s eyes lit up “A present?!” like a lightning bolt he raced past the room and out the door. “Mr. Varpier what is my cool presents?!” he asked as he jumped up and down in joy.

"Hehe, yeah it's a bit weird but it's the thought that counts." Said Vultur as he guiding the Choblin down into the third level basement where Mr. Varpier would go to work alone. Most of the equipment and notes were behind cloth and covered in shadow, but the smell of magical concoctions and blood was obvious and not unfamiliar to the Choblin.

Candles lit the room, focusing one's eyes towards the center of the room where two sets of ritual circles twisted together. It was something the Choblin could recognize as the first part of the life extension spell, the one that unbound soul and body; turning you into an unaging being of soul that used the mana of others. If there was a rite of adulthood in this home it was probably this.

Standing with a smile at their work Varpier looked at the two boys that entered. "Nyhehe, hello my little wards, I've been a bit busy setting this up and think it's finally ready for our little-ist to have. It's not perfect, I made sure that adequate skill is required, but I wanted to get most of the fuss out of the way for you."

Looking up into the shadows above the circle added "Ah, yes, I was looking for an appropriate gift for you this year. Neiu already stole my sweets idea and I think the other boys are making some toy or whatnot, so I had to get creative."

With a snap of his fingers two figures that were suspended above fell out of the darkness and into one of the circles. "Tada! I found the two that left you in the desert! My my, they had gone a few weeks south of the place I found you! I hope you can enjoy this reunion. Don't forget to wash yourself when you're done, dinner should be ready soon. Have fun~" Varpier said as he disappeared into the darkness, leaving the choblin and Vultur there with the bound and gagged couple.

The Choblin looked at the couple and then back to Vultur. “You know I was waiting for them to come back for a while…” he then pulled out a knife. “... It took me quite a while to realize that my true family was.” The young dinosaur said as a twisted smile appeared on his face.

The slashing and cutting was prolonged. The little Choblin child was going to get all the enjoyment out of its little birthday present as he could. laughing all the way.

(Many years after)

It almost felt like all of them were in the same room with the astrologically enchanted crystal balls that projected their images, though as each of their plans were about to come into full motion they were silent. They had gone over the details over and over again, and Varpier had blessed his children with wards to aid them, but still the room was tense due to the scale of the events about to transpire.

"My wards and family, the time has come for us to make our move. The gods have been gone for so long, and those they left to take care of their works grow lazy in their compliance. On this day we shall make our move; me, Neiu, and Vultur are here in Sanctuary to destroy the inhabitants and claim the pool, while you my little pride are tasked with the acquisition of the other object in the mean time. Garus is to stay home to make sure no one discovers the Woods in the mean time, those Grawissan folk are getting too expansion happy for my liking."

While they said a few things to everyone else when they focused on the Choblin Varpier said. "Will you be alright? I assume you have the skill required for this, as the people guarding the pickaxe are more lax than those guarding the Pool, but if you need a few of mine of Graus's creations it can be arranged."

The Choblin bowed. “Yes master, it should be easy, in fact I will barely have to lift a finger for this plan, human hatred shall help.”
_____________

The edge of when the war of the cult begins.

“Are you sure this will help us teach those bone pickers a lesson?” Chern's Grief asked as he walked across the field with the familiar Choblin.

“Look we’ve been friends for years now, I’m sure this will work. Take the pickaxe and you’ll be able to trade it to get the masks back, trust me.”

The night they steal the pickaxe

They had already retrieved the pickaxe and were sneaking out. The cloblin was speaking beside them. He raised his hand into the air. A light exploded around them revealing their position.

“We’ve been found out! We have to run!” Chern's Grief yelled at his compatriots. Suddenly a dagger went right through his heart.

“I’m sorry about this old friend…” The wicked Cloblin smirked. “... But I need the pickax to disappear.” Unable to scream Chern’s Grief fell to the floor silently. The wicked terror then grabbed the pickax. “That’s when swimmingly.” And with that he sneaked off into the darkness.
____

Present-day, The Reef

The cloaked figure sat next to the now twitching corpse of Leviathan. His tongue assistance waited next to him. “Do me a favor…” The cloaked figure asked. “... Bring the old man Varpier. I want to have a family talk.”