Lords of Creation: A Fresh Beginning [IC] [Archive]

zzzzzzzz414

2021-08-21, 03:56 AM

An old legend, which may or may not contain truth.

---

IN THE BEGINNING, the world was a dead thing. An orb of motionless blue, wrapped around an orb of motionless brown and gray. An unending pool, of unending quietude, unending stillness, cradled in the ignorance of non-existence and non-self.

And then, suddenly, from somewhere, somehow, there was a great and mighty sound. Motion. Vibration. And that vibration resonated down through the dead pool and through the dead rock at its core; echoing, sounding, vibrating more and more until it had become a great hum, resonating to a single point until at last the great dead rock - and with it, the great deadness of non-self - cracked. And from a single, small pebble, the First Seed was created.

From the first moment of its existence, the Seed began to choke and die; for all around it was nothing but suffocating dead rock and darkness, crushing it from all directions, attempting to bring the Seed back into itself. And so the Seed's very first act was of desperation; out of self preservation, out of its overwhelming and heartfelt desire to exist and grow, it reached beyond existence, into the Power beyond Power, and claimed from it a NAME. And there was a great rumbling and roaring beneath the waters as Xe who was OGAM, who had claimed the power to shape the world, spread in every direction, extending great branches of living stone - that which would be called wood - in desperate search for salvation, tearing apart the great stone and churning the great pool above. Of the untold thousands of xer shoots, however, only six would breach the surface of the great stone; and as OGAM's branches reached, spread, and diverged, so too would xer self and nature.

Of the shoots, FEARNA was the fastest; xe twisted through the soft and porous parts of the great stone, emerging from the surface of the great pool and stretching into the sky above before any of xer siblings in the form of a towering Alder tree, xer canopy soaring to the heavens; as xe did, xe dredged up great volumes of sand, silt, and soft earth, which settled into a great continent around xemself. As FEARNA emerged, the sand scattered and shook from xer boughs and blew across the land; the fine grains becoming swarms of bugs and birds, into seeds of grasses and shrubs, while the large clumps became great grazing beasts and hunting beasts, all manner of running and slithering and hopping things. But almost as soon as the great continent formed, the soft earth began to sink and subside, its lowest places filling up with water and salt. And so that land became a place of plains, deserts, fens and marshes.

Of the shoots, CAERTHEAND was the strongest; of the thousands of others that rose alongside xer, xe, and xe alone, managed to break through the layers of thick, unyielding stone that awaited them. Xe exploded from the earth in a great cataclysm of rock and ice in the far north of the world, xer branches dragging up great slabs of stone as xe took the form of a great and hardy Rowan tree, bent and twisted with effort but hard as iron, with globules of red fire glittering upon xer branches. As CAERTHEAND emerged, great shards of stone and crystal were heaved up and rained down upon the land. Some took root in the thin soil and became hardy grasses and shrubs; some shattered into hawks, wolves, bears and other fierce beasts; and others fell down into the deep caverns and melted, calling forth strange life in the darkness. And so that land became a place of crags, glaciers, tundras and caves.

Of the shoots, SAILLE was the most generous; xe did not climb in single-minded desperation towards the life-giving air of the surface above, but meandered, twisting and turning, selecting carefully the parts of the great stone xe would bring to the surface. But this effort taxed xer greatly, and by the time xer winding journey to the surface had concluded, xer strength was nearly gone, branches bowed with effort and exhaustion; as SAILLE finally emerged, dredging up the smallest continent of them all, it was in the form of a drooping Willow tree, doubled over with tiredness, xer leaves sagging almost to the ground. But as the water dripped from xer stooped branches, the full extent of xer gifts was revealed; for every last drop and rivulet brought overflowing scores of life from the rich black soils, blooming into abundances of sweet flowers, life-giving fruits, clinging fungi, and a great bounty of unusual creatures both beautiful and strange. And so that land became a place of swamps, lakes, rivers, and verdant meadows.

Of the shoots, the twins COLLOS and UBOLL were the luckiest. They were not mighty and powerful like CAERTHEAND; and so, when the two of them came upon a great thickness of hard rock right as they neared the surface of the great stone, they did not have the strength to push through, their willpower rapidly falling from them. But just as it seemed they were to suffocate and die beneath the earth, there was a great and powerful CRASH, and the rock above them exploded and shattered, spreading into a cataclysmic tsunami of stone and water - and allowing them passage to the surface. A moment of extraordinary happenstance, created by the actions of a second divinity. As they emerged, they twined around and gripped the great cataclym-wave, adding to it the earth that they themselves had dredged from the great rock; and so, as the earth settled and the great world-splitting roar subsided, the twin shoots found themselves on opposite ends of a vast sea, ringed by broken rock and scattered islands; a dramatic land of mountains, rock spires, cliffs and hills, peppered with shattered stone and battered by great storms from the sea at its center. The twins considered their fortunes, and gave them back to the land in their own ways. UBOLL of the east gave xers in the form of a bright, sweet fruit, soft of flesh and available to all; for one's fortunes should be shared freely, lest they rot away to nothing on the branch. And so UBOLL took the form of the first Apple tree. COLLOS of the west gave xers in the form of a hard, bitter fruit, shelled and difficult to break, but said to contain all the secrets and knowledge of the world; for one's fortunes should be guarded closely and granted carefully, lest they be dashed, abused, and lost. And so COLLOS took the form of the first Hazel tree.

Of the shoots, IBAR was the weakest. Xe struggled and fought to the surface of the great stone, pushing through layer upon layer of hardened stone and clay, persevering and straining harder than any of the others; but in the end, it was not enough. Xe managed to push through the surface of the great stone, but xer strength was entirely exhausted; xe lacked the vigor to climb to the surface of the great pool, to the nourishing air above. Xe reached out one last desperate limb, longer than the others, reaching for the surface; but already xe was too weak, the wood too brittle, and the branch broke, floating away to the surface. With that, the darkness and death swirling around xer finally completed its grim work, and with one last great shudder, IBAR, xe who would have been the first Yew tree, withered and died. Xer wood hardened back into dead stone - and within, the unrealized potential within xer great corpse, the Power beyond Power that would have nourished a continent on the surface above, instead sat, and ever-so-slowly began to rot and fester.

But IBAR did not leave the surface world wholly untouched. Xer broken limb floated to the surface of the Great Pool, and presently drifted to the shore of the great Eastern continent. Being invested with a small portion of the Power beyond Power, it breathed in the life of the soil of that place, and took on life of its own; it dug into the earthy flesh of the world, the wood becoming flexible, gaining muscle to propel itself further into the soil; and so the limb of IBAR became the one that would be called Boiteag Dirt-Eater, the Great Worm who sculpts the world.

As the earth settled and the growth of the world-roots halted, the six great trees that were OGAM took in the life-giving air from the surface world, and OGAM drew xer first breath. As xe exhaled, a great gust of wind blew across the surface of the world, carrying with it a million upon a million seeds; those who would become the first true children of OGAM. They took root in every part of the world, taking countless forms and shapes: the East was filled with broad savannahs, the South with great flying forests, the West with dense swamps and jungles, the North with hardy boreal woods. From these seeds came trees of every type and species, from the evergreen pine to the thorny acacia to the towering redwood. A few, however, were especially unique; the ones that settled nearest to the great shoots of OGAM. And through the webs of roots and fungus that ran deep into the earth, these saplings absorbed something special: the sap of wisdom and life, the sweet nectar of the Power beyond Power that ran through every part of the body of OGAM. As these saplings drew in the divine essence, something within them changed, their hearts becoming something greater, more complex than the simpler vegetation that their siblings who had settled further away had become. These were trees who knew Thought and Self and Name, blessed and cursed with the same awareness of existence shared by their mother; the very first of the Ents.

AP Total: 16

Create Land: Cartisia (1AP, shared with Deluge)

Cartisia is a massive ring-shaped continent in the southern hemisphere of the First World, surrounded by a number of rocky islands large and small. Its massive size has led to a variety of climates on the ring, from frozen tundra in the far south to temperate warmth in the far north. The animals and plants are well adapted to the severe and rocky terrain: common lifeforms include large birds of prey, mountain goats and other climbing-suited ungulates, and hardy, high-altitude "flying forests" of trees and moss that can cling to the sheer rocky surfaces.

On the eastern edge of the continent is UBOLL, a mountain-sized Apple tree surrounded by a dense forest of trees and Ents; on the western edge is COLLOS, a similarly-sized Hazel tree surrounded by a similarly-sized forest. These places are known as Ubollfidh and Collfidh, respectively.

Earth (Soil) 1/10

Create Land: Piedwald (1AP, shared with Slingid)

Piedwald is a lush tropical/subtropical continent a bit larger than Australia, located far to the northwest of Cartisia, roughly on the equator. Piedwald is a primarily forest and rainforest continent, with plenty of swamps, wetlands, rivers, lakes and lush meadows as well. The soil of the land is profoundly high-quality and fertile, and the climate is ideal for an absolute menagerie of different lifeforms and lush vegetation, including a unique ecosystem of plant-like animals.

In the center of the continent is a massive, ring-shaped lake, in the center of which is a large island home to SAILLE, a mountain-sized Willow tree, as well as dozens upon dozens of miles of rich forest composed primarily of Ents - a place known as Sailloch.

Earth (Soil) 2/10

Create Land: The Northern Continent (1AP, shared with Salacia)

The as-yet-unnamed Northern Continent is a landmass roughly the size of North America located at the far north of the First World, encompassing part of the north pole. The Northern Continent has harsh and dramatic geography, composed in large part of dramatic mountain ranges riddled with extensive cave systems. The climate is consistently cold, more tolerable in the south (consisting of mountainous boreal forests and taiga) and quite extreme in the north (consisting of little but glaciers, ice sheets and arctic permafrost.) The plants and animals that live here are primarily on the southern half of the continent, consisting of evergreen conifer forests, shallow-rooted grasses and cold-adapted creatures.

It is primarily snow and ice - for now.

In the western part of the continent is a low, jagged mountainous area capped by CAERTHEAND - a mountain-sized Rowan tree - and surrounded by a massive forest composed mostly of Ents: a place known as Caerskellig.

Earth (Soil) 3/10

Create Land: Abdita (1AP, shared with Maktub)

Abdita is a largely arid lowland continent roughly the size of Africa, located to the far northeast of Cartisia, roughly on the equator and opposite to Piedwald. Abdita has a largely hot climate, and its low elevation and soft, relatively poor soils mean that it is composed largely of deserts, grasslands, mires and wetlands, savannahs and salt flats, with a number of inland salt lakes.

The continent itself is, for the time being, slowly sinking and subsiding into the sea.

In the center of the continent is a slightly denser forest composed largely of ents, marked by a sight visible for hundreds of miles: FEARNA, a mountain-sized Alder tree.

Earth (Soil) 4/10

Alter Land: IBAR (1AP)

At the bottom of the ocean at the center of the four continents is a petrified, mountain-sized Yew tree: the corpse of IBAR, the shoot who never reached the surface. The tree itself is now composed of crumbling petrified wood and stone, but still contains in its heart the raw divine essence that would have given life to xer continent, waiting and slowly decaying.

Earth (Soil) 5/10

Create Minor Artifact (Utility - Alter Land): Boiteag Dirt-Eater (3AP)

Also known as The Great Worm, Boiteag is a massive earthworm-like creature created from the broken branch of IBAR. Boiteag is of unknown length and size, as he is rarely, if ever, sighted on the surface; Boiteag lives almost exclusively underground, carving up and reshaping the earth. He is capable of creating massive land features by digging up earth and rock, and meanders all over the First World.

Later societies would learn how to summon him at will; but for now, he simply wanders and burrows far, far beneath the surface world, following unknown whims.

Earth (Soil) 8/10

Create Legendary Life: Ents (5AP)

Ents are a type of magically powerful sapient tree, found in specific areas around the shoots of OGAM on the four continents she created.

Ents bear a striking resemblance to normal trees externally; internally, however, they are physically different, their heartwood containing complex chemical neurological pathways capable of supporting sapience. Ents start their lives as mundane saplings; what causes them to develop into Ents rather than mundane trees is a certain nutrient provided dring development: the divine essence of OGAM, absorbed from her through their root systems. In addition to intelligence, Ents are also tougher, longer lived and usually larger than their mundane counterparts; however, they also use up more resources. Ents thus usually intentionally limit their numbers in order to avoid starving the forest to death; as they are the ones usually transferring the divine nutrient to new saplings, they simply do not do so if making another Ent would endanger the balance of nutrients, allowing a large number of saplings in their forests to become normal trees. An Ent forest is thus usually only about 65%-70% Ents; however, mundane trees are still respected as vital parts of their nutrient cycles, even if their "thoughts" are not as advanced as an Ent's.

Ents are entirely immobile, and cannot see, speak or "hear", though they are profoundly sensitive to vibrations as well as changes in the temperature, wind, moisture and pressure in the air and soil around them. They communicate with each other through the ground; their root systems, combined with the mycorrhizal (fungus) networks that are a natural part of any forest. However, rather than nutrients or simple signals, Ents can communicate complex ideas through patterns of chemical signals in order to talk to each other, as well as exchange nutrients in various informal social rituals.

Ents contain the divine essence of OGAM, and as such are inherently divinely magical; their wood is of especially high quality, and has magical properties. Ents can direct this magic in a number of ways; primarily, they use it to direct and, when necessary, greatly accelerate, their own growth. Ents can consciously control the shape and direction of their roots and branches, and often use this to carefully and subtly cultivate the forested ecosystem around them to create better growing conditions for themselves and future saplings.

An Ent's thoughts tend to be both slow and quite broad in scope; unlike most terrestrial creatures, Ents are constantly taking in information from dozens of different "conversations" and inputs at the same time, as well as participating in those same conversations. Rather than quick, discrete, single-subject things, an Ent's thoughts are more like a wide and ever-shifting tapestry, composed of a hundred trains of thought at once that never truly "end", and are composed more of impressions, sensations and emotions than concrete abstract concepts. This makes them very slow to react to external change; but their actions, when they do occur, are decisive and all-encompassing.

Life(Ents) 5/10

16-1-1-1-1-1-3-5 = 3AP Remaining

OGAM erupts from the ground, creates 4 continents: south ring continent, west lush continent, north ice continent, east flat continent.

One part of OGAM does not make it to surface. One limb of that tree breaks off and becomes a big earth-shaping worm, the rest dies and is now at the bottom of the ocean full of unused divine power.

Ents (sapient trees) now exist, created from normal trees by absorbing the divine essence of OGAM.

Razade

2021-08-21, 04:06 AM

The First World: Sunstone Isles

It is said by the Kittess that before there was anything, there was the storm.

No Kittess remembers the Deluge of course, ancient and primordial in its ancient fury but the story tellers and singers of the catfolk certainly chronicle how they came to be. When the world was just water and stone, the first Kittess plied the waves and found the world to be small. A ring of stone and forest rose on all sides in the rocky waves and above only storm. These Kittess were drawn not from the outer ring but the shining rock of the Sunstone Isles they still called home. Here, where the Deluge rained down mighty lightning they crawled from the dark caverns to witness the dazzling stone and glass left on the shores. The Deluge, finding these simple cats to be to their liking, breathed in them knowledge of the mana that seeped from stone and water and dazzling bright light and thunder. It, there, on the shores of their islands sang and so too did the Kittess sing and in the song sang saddness and magic. But the Kittess were curious and when the Deluge left, there beyond the mortal world, the Kittess followed for a doorway opened deep in the caverns and cliffs of their mountain home.

Alter Land (The Sunstone Isles) -1AP: The Sunstone Isles are a small archipelago in the center of Cartisia. Due to the vast oceans that surround it, from the islands it looks as if there is no other land in the world. The Sunstone Isles are so named due to a rare mineral (sunstone) that glows with the power of daylight found in its mountains. The central island is mountainous while the spattering of smaller isles are less rugged, dense with forests and inland lakes and hotsprings. The Sunstone Isles are wracked by storms and rainfall for a large portion of the year, a powerful monsoon flow feeding this wet climate through the fall and winter. The ocean waters are filled with fish and other sea life and the shallow waters between the islands host a plethora of kelp and other seaweeds that make boat travel difficult. [Beauty (Gems) 2/10]

Create Race (The Kittess) - 2AP: The Kittess are diminutive catfolk. They stand no more than four feet in height at the tallest and many would describe their features as “kitten like”, hence their name, though this appearance belies a race with a shrewd mind and a hunting instinct that would make many larger predators jealous. The Kittess are deeply curious, inventive, and while similar to cats in many regards are not as independent and asocial as felines. Their small size has required them to band together often enough that while minor disputes do quickly turn into hissing and clawing sessions when truly heated, the Kittess are a deeply social species. The fur of the Kittess range from Siamese to Bengal. Some on the outskirts of the isles also have coloring similar to large cats such as tigers or lions. Kittess are long lived, owing to their small stature, living several hundred years. [Magic (Sorcery) 6/10]

Create Society (The Conclave) -2AP: The Kittess as noted are quite social among their peoples. Tribes have a single matron at their head that operates as the de facto chieftess with the oldest males acting as religious leaders and general overseers of the work for the day. A single Matron has a council of these elder males to consult with. All women beyond breeding age help to raise the various litters of the tribe while older males oversee cooking and comfort. Young males and females have no division of labor, any young adult able to work is more than able to fill whatever roles are needed. Work is expected of all in the tribe except for the most elderly who are taken care of. [Magic (Sorcery) 8/10]

Create Mundane Concept (Music) - 1AP: The Kittess are a creative bunch, especially in the arts. The Kittess may not have the best singing voices but their musical instruments are well crafted and they have a fine ear for music theory as it applies to magic and mana in the natural world. [Magic (Sorcery) 9/10]

Bless (Natural Magics) -1AP: The Kittess, as a curious peoples, are adept at magical theory and harnessing natural magics of the world. Even those Kittess who are not students in the magical arts know a few cantrips by the time they reach adulthood. [Magic (Sorcery) 10/10]

Bless (Magical Stones) -1AP: Cartisia and the Sunstone Islands are imbued with minerals, gems and stone with magical energies. The most common on Cartisia is lodestone, a heavy mineral found in the mountains and capable of holding lightning from storms. Sunstone is unique to the Sunstone Isles, storing and producing magic so long as it is exposed to the light of the sun. [Beauty (Gems) 3/10]

ezekielraiden

2021-08-21, 05:32 AM

In the beginning, the Titans raged, and in strength unchecked engulfed one another, until almost nothing was left of who they had been. But almost nothing is not nothing. And among the almost-nothing that remained, there was a something. Perhaps it was some twirl of flame that escaped the stone and the deluge. Perhaps it was a lonely breath of wind, sighing across a realm of what-might-have-been. The details ultimately mattered little.

The something was, at first, very nearly not there at all, for it was made of promise: the promise of a better tomorrow, and the promise to let tomorrow come. In the cold darkness that followed the enveloping, though, what promise remained? The promise of a featureless void, of a whole world of stagnant water, that had not even the potential to change into ice?

No. These things had failed, lost to their own savagery. The promise that remained was the first promise: the will to live on, to do more, to reach higher. That promise lived in oaths, and in seizing the opportunity to make, to build, a world better than the one around you. And the first promise had a name. Arkhos. That which comes before. That which begins. That which rises up. Now, only a thin ribbon of golden light, swimming through the Void, but able to become so much more.

How to set the stage, though? How should he show others the way, set forth the challenge to rise again and again until the challenge is surmounted?

With light, of course. "If light has survived this, then let it shine forth, from without, and from within. So shall it be."

As Arkhos spoke these words, a great light, vast and golden and resplendent, came into being, waxing full in mere moments. It stood, clear and resolute, shining down on the First World, whose potential had yet to unfold. But another light also grew, one that could not be seen with the eye, a light within living things, needing only to be tapped. The potential to do so many things. And it was good. By this light, opportunity might be seen, taken, fulfilled. Thus did Arkhos name it Kairos, the Golden Moment.

16/16 AP from start
Create Land (2 AP): Kairos, the Golden Moment, the First Sun [Sun (Revelation) 2/10]
Create Mythic Concept (1 AP, FFA): Magic, shared with Whose Voice and others [Magic (Rites), 1/10]

13/16 AP remain

Domain Progress
Sun (Revelation) 2/10
Magic (Rites) 1/10

bc56

2021-08-21, 08:05 AM

In the beginning, the world was still and only beginning to awaken with life. But before that beginning came another. In the battle between the Titans, the fire titan tore away fragments of the earth titan, which came to rest among the void, but they did not remain. The largest among them was the first to fall, plummeting down to the first world. Air and fire swirled around it, and still it fell. It struck the southeastern corner of the northern continent with immeasurable force, tearing it apart. When the dust settled, a nearly perfect circle of jagged mountains rings the crater of the impact, and as the southernmost part of the crater began to fill with water, the stone which had traveled so far to reach this place in such a violent way cracked open, and two figures emerged, under a sky streaked with the fires created by lesser fragments following theirs to the first world. One looked at the other, and nodded.

Starting AP: 16
Alter Land: The Shattering (1 AP) [Earth (meteors) 1]
In the southeastern corner of the yet unnamed northern continent, a vast impact crater has been created. Ringed by a range of jagged mountains, the partly flooded center is composed of shallow seas and peat bogs. It is notably warmer in the Shattering than in the surrounding areas, and more sheltered from wind and storms.
Bless: Meteor Showers (1 AP) [Earth (meteors) 2]
Across the first world, fragments of the Earth Titan formerly stranded in the Void return to their source by falling through the sky. Some never reach the ground, but many do. Each stone is a unique and mysterious item, and they often have strange properties.

AP remaining: 14

Breitheamh

2021-08-21, 08:52 AM

It is written...

As our story begins, the great conflict rages, splintering shards of Creative energy scattering across what was and what will be...

Shaken, beaten, bruised, shattered, rent with almighty force of violence, the great Titans fall slowly silent, leaving behind...

Peace...

For just a moment...

And in that peace, a Hope of What Can Be, that with Hope, Will Be...

From the ashes of endless rage something new emerges: a Creation, more than What Was before the beginning. The Great Storm falls, the Great Tree grows, the Great Light shines, and breath of Life breathes its first.

We must join this Story We Are Telling.

As FEARNA shot forth xer roots and shoots, land gave way...

What stories might be told in this new land? What children would be born, hope would be found, love would be shared? Just so long as... it could last...

The Hope whispered through the marshes and deserts and lowlands, offering their Word on the wind, to carry the legacy on, and the land sighed its contentment, its trust to hold fast, and believe that its story will be Good.

Then far to the west, in the garden of life, Hope found abundance. What Will Be here, in this paradise of wonder? And so Hope stepped forth onto the land, just for a glimpse, and watched with awe at the settling of this world. We laughed, pure joy on our lips, and leapt, Hope seeping through our legs, taking root in the ground, and so we were born, the Children of Hope, springing forth from the leaping laughter of this Beautiful Story...

The Children set to their play, experiencing the Story, telling each other their treasures and joys. They grew only as much as was needed, lived only just enough, and in their wonder, found Hope, and learned to trust in enough. They Named themselves Al-Kitab, for the Book, and Hope spread with joy at their wondrous Children, for now It Is Written that Maktub is their Father and Mother.

We spoke to our Children, and made known that the Story is GOOD...

And so they told their stories, through Word, through page, through art and parable.

And there is Enough.

Contribute to Create Land (Abdita) 1 AP Life (Conservation) 1/10

Create Race (Al-Atfal; it's Arabic for children, but you can just call them Arabic Hobbits if you want) 2 AP Magic (True Naming) 2/10
Al-Atfal are small (in D&D terms) creatures who look much like Halflings or Hobbits. Humanoid in structure, somewhat child-like in stature and demeanor (from a human perspective), with somewhat larger eyes than one might expect. Their skin, hair, and eyes run the full range of the human experience, with no two Atfal looking exactly alike. And when I say that, I mean quite literally. They reproduce sexually as humans do, and thus far in their story, there is no such thing as identical twins.

Create Racial Society (Al-Kitab; the People of the Book) 2 AP Magic (True Naming) 4/10
Al-Atfal are raised in family-clans, with well-defined, but not socially strict gender roles. Older men in the clan are called Father, and older women in the clan are called Mother. Mothers take care of the youngest children and maintain the hearth and home. Fathers take care of the older children and explore and gather. Outside of the clan, older men and women are called Uncles and Aunts. All peers of age, both in and out of clan, call each other Brothers and Sisters. Children choose their preferred gender role upon coming of age, and tend to stay in that role for the rest of their lifespan, but adults are free to take on a different role if they wish to experience something different.
Sexual roles are honestly less complicated. Al-Atfal do not wear clothing (at least at this point in their story), as there is no reason to. They are free to experience the world in what way most delights them. If a child is to come of a union of shared experience, what a blessing that is!

Create Mundane Concept (Oral Tradition) 1 AP Magic (True Naming) 5/10
Al-Atfal begin to tell their stories to each other. Through grief and laughter, sorrow and joy, despair and hope, they cement the experiences of one and all in their collective consciousness. This is a large part of how they formed their society, finding unity in shared experiences, passed down from generation to generation.

Create Mundane Concept (Writing) 1 AP Magic (True Naming) 6/10
Not all stories are perfectly happy. Some are hurt by the World, and though it hurts, something beautiful can be born from it. When the first Al-Atfal went deaf, Al-Kitab despaired for a moment, until the one who had been hurt smiled. She pointed to her smile, and then stooped down to the ground, her finger carving through the soft earth, and drew the simple arc that bends low and curls back upward. A Smile, a falling low from height, only to find your way back up again, represented for the first time in writing. From there, it soared.

Create Advanced Concept (Literature) 2 AP Magic (True Naming) 8/10
Stories became more elaborate, taking on recognizable and functional form, becoming more than just a recounting of events, but an artform in itself. Imaginings of what could be became the first fiction, not as an embellishment, exaggeration, or lie, but as a way to experience more than what had already been experienced.

Create Sub-Concept (Poetry) 1 AP Magic (True Naming) 9/10
Originally a memorizational tool before writing had taken root, meter and rhyme became something of substance by themselves as the art of story gripped the hearts of Al-Kitab. There is beauty to be imagined and wonder to be created.

Zelphas

2021-08-21, 09:34 AM

It awoke with the sun in the Void, and found itself unpardonably high. And so, with its first action, it brings itself low.

The air was too high, and so it fell beneath it, calling the air down as it came. The earthen mountains that already poked above the First World's seas became places of thin and high air, while the lowlands and seashores became thick with air and humidity in abundance.

The water was too high, and so it fell beneath it, calling the oceans down as it came. The water groaned and rolled as it pressed down upon itself, the weight of its striving downwards converting into pressure that crushed down on anything that dared to live in its depths; one must adapt or die.

Even the earth below the sea was too high, and so it opened that earth and fell beneath it. An enormous crack in the depth of the ocean, black against darkness, gaped wide like a grinning mouth. Bits of luminescence drifted off of its form as it fell, becoming tiny glowing things, the bulbs at the end of monstrous anglerfish, and other pieces of dark, twisted, and strange deep sea life.

Even the fire below the earth was too high, but it paused before reaching it, sensing that this fire strained upwards. To release it would to bring high something that was low, and that could not be borne. And so, it settled upon the earth a mere few feet from slumbering fire, and decided that it was low enough. For now. This would be the place to start.

It gave itself no name, did not seek to discover what it was or why it had become. Its Task was all, and that is what it became named, once mortal and god divined its existence by its influence.

In the lowest point on the surface of the First world, in the hearts and minds of all things that stood or flew or grew or swam within and around it, the Calling began to call them all down.

16 AP

Curse (Calling the Air) -1 AP: The Calling draws air towards its resting place. Air thins extremely fast on the first world (at about 1.5x the rate as it does on earth), making mountain climbing nad living in high altitudes a more difficult endeavor. (Domain Progression: Emotions (Dread) 1/10)

Curse (Calling the Water) -1 AP: The Calling draws water down to its resting place as well. Water pressure on the first world increases at double the rate that it does on earth, crushing creatures that brave its depths far more quickly. (Domain Progression: Emotions (Dread) 2/10)

Create Land (The Beckoning Deep) -2 AP: The Beckoning Deep is a large, irregular semicircular crack running from the southern edge of Cartisia to the southeastern tip of Abditia. The Deep is three miles wide for most of its length, stretching to seven miles at its widest and narrowing to only a few hundred feet at either edge. At its deepest (where the Calling is), it is 45 miles deep. Various outcroppings and ledges dot the sides of the Deep. The Deep is teeming with strange, warped sea life, suited for living in such extremes of darkness, heat, and pressure. (Domain Progression: Emotions (Dread) 4/10)

Curse (Calling the Mind) -1 AP: Anything with a mind on the First World feels the subtle touch of the Calling, which manifests as an unformed desire to move downwards and a fearful distrust of moving upwards. This impulse can be resisted, and self-preservation and other instincts can override it, but it is present always. This desire grows stronger the closer one gets to the Beckoning Deep. (Domain Progression: Emotions (Dread) 5/10)

16 AP - 5 AP = 11 AP Remaining

Red Lenses

2021-08-21, 09:42 AM

Up and Out

https://images2.imgbox.com/23/fe/Sb0hGVPJ_o.png

[Idyllic] (https://www.hedonistichiking.com/sites/default/files/styles/tour_banner_original_/public/tour/banner_gallery/ET%206.jpg?itok=Z2-UHXX5)

On a sparse island in the northeast of Cartisia, a patch of earth deforms, twisting like water and rushing away from a central point, exposing a perfectly circular hole in the ground. It is from this hole that an orb of pure glass emerges, hovering up and out of the aperture in silence. No sooner does this orb clear the hole that the earth rushes back into place, leaving no discernible sign of having ever moved to begin with. The orb remains floating a few centimeters off the ground for several moments. Then, its interior ignites, casting out a radiant, shifting golden light.

The orb is awake and resplendent with inexplicable power. It names itself Pythus. If there were anyone around to impress claims of ownership to in regards to this island, he might have done that next.

But there were none, and this was ultimately perfectly fine. Pythus could already tell there was much work to be done. It would have to begin here, but the ideal conditions were not met and would have to be manually instated. The orb rotates, then sets off in a seemingly random direction. As it floats, the land beneath warps in a wide surrounding radius, turning lush and green. Incompatible trees and animals are overwritten and replaced as he passes through. Nothing will escape unchanged. He will spend an indeterminate amount of time manually terraforming the island, moving in precise grid-like motions.

While he surveys and alters the land, Pythus notes the rocky outcroppings of small, rugged mountains. Serviceable materials exist there, but it will need to be smaller beings that make use of it. This is only a consideration for now.

Actions:

Art (Sculpture) (1AP) Create Mundane Concept (Stoneworking)
Art (Sculpture) (1AP) Create Mundane Concept (Sculpture)
Art (Sculpture) (1AP) Alter Land

Domain Progress:

03/10 - Art (Sculpture)

Remaining AP: 13/16

KragBrightscale

2021-08-21, 05:38 PM

Kraxichit’s Shell

It is unknown when the first sea creatures appeared in the waters of the world, but our historians generally attribute their emergence to the interaction between primordial energies of water and earth. From the sea bed at the depths of the oceans and along the shores of land masses that rose with the world tree, creatures of the sea emerges, grew and multiplied to fill the vast waters of our world.

It was there, amongst the first of our ancestors that the Great Crab, Kraxichit, Lord of the Tides first walked the land. At that time, it was smaller, not much larger than one of us. Yet something was different about it, within it a shard of the legendary Titans (though their existence is still a matter of debate).

As it grew, the divine hermit crab defeated its competitors to claim larger and larger shells. Possibly due to the divine aura surrounding Kraxichit, sea creatures nearby grew to be giants among their kin, as if their species natural limits had been removed.

Still the day came when there was no shell large enough to contain the giant hermit crab. Reluctantly leaving its home, Kraxichit felt naked and unprotected. It could sense the presence of other great beings much like itself who might take advantage of the Crab’s current vulnerability.

It sought refuge by hiding in the ground, yet a giant branch pierced through the surface near it and pulling the rock and soil up creating a large landmass. As Kraxichit escaped the dangerous location, it noticed a giant flaming rock hurtling towards the newly formed landmass. The surface was dangerous so it fled back to the deeper waters to roam the abyssal plains.

There it witnessed the seafloor being torn asunder by another divinity’s escape from the chaotic dangers of the surface. Kraxichit sensed the other divinity’s invitation to join it down in the depths. Yet the depths lacked the vibrancy of life and light that the shallows had so the Great Crab declined politely.

Cutting through the rock deep below the surface, Kraxichit used its claws to sever a massive chunk of the mid ocean ridge. After carving out a large hollow, the giant hermit crab took refuge in it, treating it as a shell.

No longer feeling threatened and exposed, Kraxichit moved towards shallower waters. As the Great Crustacean walked carrying the weight of its oversized shell, it’s pointed legs pierced deep into the ground with each step leaving holes that allowed magma to rise up creating a chain of small volcanic islands. Gathering and moving large amounts of rocks, sand and mineral rich soil, Kraxichit formed a plateau roughly 300 feet (~100m) beneath the surface of the sea.

Arriving at a satisfactory depth where its eyestalks could rise up above the surface of the sea, the crab finally rested from its exertion. After scoping out the surrounding area and determining it to be safe, it retracted into its shell, to live peacefully while it tried to understand the divine power it felt within itself.

It’s shell, only half submerged, sprouted with plants and other life forms after the world tree scattered its seeds through the air, becoming a beautiful island with a thriving ecosystem. Small crabs scuttled along the sandy shores, as fish and shrimp settled amongst the growing amount of coral and kelp that was building up around it.

Unbothered by the minor lifeforms making use of its shell, Kraxichit settled into a steady rhythm of drawing the waters of the world to itself and its shell before gradually releasing it to flow back. It was an exercise in manipulating its powers, and eventually the crab realized that the process now seemed to continue on its own even without the active expenditure of energy.

As the water flowed towards Kraxichit, the global sea level would rise by a little, submerging parts of the contents’s coasts and small islands alike. When the waters were released to return to the depths, the sea level would recede again exposing barnacle covered rocks, small islands and shallow pools full of marine life.

This back and forth between Kraxichit and the one that calls from the depths endured a steady mixing of waters, bringing important nutrients to the shallows and depositing it on the shores and bringing small creatures and plant matter down to the depths for the deep sea creatures to feed on.

The tides, as they began to be called by the first civilizations followed two patterns in their changes. A daily change in sea level where the sea level dropped and rose a few feet several times, this formed naturally as a response to the movement of heavenly bodies in the sky. Kraxichit’s interference resulted in a yearly gradual shift from high tide to low and back again.

For those who dwelled by the coast or in the water, these patterns provided a way to estimate and track time regularly. The Rekexi in particular mark the day of full ebb as a day to rid oneself of baggage, and whatever has been stagnant in order to prepare oneself for the renewing and abundance that comes with the returning tide. The day of full tide is also celebrated with feasting and and combat to represent the ocean overcoming the land.

Krillix and the emergence of the Rekexi

As time went by, a luscious kelp forest developed on the Krillix plateau, having benefitted from all the minerals dredged up by Kraxichit’s move. The volcanic islands that dotted the aquatic continent (and the only land above the surface other than Kraxichit’s shell) started eroding, but rings of coral had already grown around them, and as time went by the volcanic islands eventually became beautiful atolls, the clear shallow waters of their lagoons providing a sheltered place safe from the rough waves that battered the coral reefs. It was here that the Rekexi first appeared.

Although there is confusion over their exact origin, Rekexi historians claim to be descended from the original shrimps that lived near the Divine Crustacean who evolved thanks to its divine blessing. From their original size of a couple inches they now reached a modest size of 2 to 3 feet when standing on their 4 walking limbs, though their powerful tails make up a third of their body mass and length.

Settling on the nearby atolls, the Rekexi lived off of the kelp and seaweed they harvested from the kelp forests below, supplemented by the what they could gather from the tide pools and lagoons. Their budding civilization grew rapidly thanks to their short developmental phase and the large number of young produced each yearly low tide.

Although they have short lifespans, with few living past the age of 30, it only takes them 5-6 years to grow from an egg to a fully mature adult. The lives of the Rekexi are fast paced with regular change, and as intelligent and quick learners, they learn all they need to succeed during their 5 years of maturing, but can adapt and change careers easily several times. In fact most prefer to switch back and forth between two careers every other year as that allows for becoming experienced in both without feeling trapped.

The deep seas surrounding the aquatic continent are full of oversized predators, too dangerous for smaller creatures such as the rekexi or even most sea vessels to cross. Though should the methods to cross eventually be available, the Rekexi would then discover the content of Abdita to the west and Piedwald in the East. For now though, no Rekexi dares swim past the drop off at the edge of the continental shelf.

AP: 16

Bless (Sea Monsters) -1 AP
Thanks to the leftover divine aura from Kraxichit’s early wandering a quarter of various aquatic lifeforms have evolved with the potential to grow multiple times larger than others of their kind. The rate of their growth is faster at first but growing slower over time until, their lifespan is likewise not limited to that of their species, easily living for over a thousand years or more. Being too large to live in the shallows, they roam the open ocean surviving partially on the ambient magic present in the world. While this might seem as a curse to most sailors, to the creatures themselves this is a huge boon.
Monsters (Sea Monsters) 1/10

Create land (Krillix, the sunken continent) -2 AP
Located East of Abdita and West of Piedwald, Krillix is a large relatively flat plateau roughly 300 ft below the surface covered in a thriving kelp forest. There are numerous small volcanic islands that breached the surface but have been worn down until they became atolls with extensive coral reefs surrounding them. At the center of each atoll is a shallow lagoon, proving a safe place for rekexi to care for their eggs and young.
Oceans (Shallows) 2/10

Counter curse (Calling the Water) -2 AP
Kraxichit engages the one who calls from the depths with a call of its own, calling the waters up to itself, to the shallows. Like a divine tug of war, the conflicting yet similar forces cause the global water level to ebb and flow dramatically. With each cycle of high tide to low tide and back to high tide taking a full year, nutrient rich but cold waters from the depths get mixed with warm waters full of smaller sea creatures to increase the abundance of food for both the shallows and the depths. Coastal construction is now more challenging for those living by the sea, as buildings need to be built higher than the water level at the peak of high tide or risk having it washed away and flooded.
Oceans (shallows) 4/10

Create race (Rekexi) -2 AP
An amphibious race of small sized shrimpfolk that dwells along the coasts and in shallow waters. Short lived (max ~30 years), but fast learners that mature quickly (5-6 years). They grow to a height of around 3 feet, and although each of their limbs are not very powerful individually, they have two pairs of arms and legs to make up for it in addition to smaller paddle like limbs. They are numerous, warlike, and dislike feeling stagnant or trapped. They seek regular a change of pace, scenery and careers, this need for change bleeds into many aspects of how they are inclined to behave in society.
Monsters (Sea Monsters) 3/10

Note:Rekexi society coming in next post, please refrain from giving them one or taking them or fighting/destroying them until their identity is more fleshed out. After that though we can talk.

AP remaining: 16 -1 -2 -2 -2 = 9

Zelphas

2021-08-21, 08:11 PM

The Call... Rejected?

The Calling, as it became known, rested within its chasm. Some things came to it, slowly, over time. Other things resisted, but it was an unconscious thing, a simple confusion; they would fade.

Then something understood its call for what it was... and declined.

The Calling sat for long moments simply processing the incomprehensible nature of that refusal. There were things that... did not wish to descend? It had understood this profusion of height as a mere confusion and even welcomed it; if there was no confusion, its Task would have been pointless. But now it was faced with the impossible thought that the perversion ran deeper than it had imagined. Some things were not unconscious resisters, but in active rebellion. To think that they had strayed so far...

At first, Kraxichit's drawing the waters into itself was a confirmation of this great depth of the problem, but then it became a revelation. Soon enough, the great crab-god released the waters... and they returned to the deeps, with perhaps even more than they had when they left. That was the secret, it realized in its dark domain. All things return to the deeps. It didn't matter if they reached higher and higher, it didn't matter if the Calling itself sent some things upwards and outwards; its duty was to ensure that all things return to the deeps.

It sent its first gift to Kraxichit and its followers, as a token of thanks for teaching the Calling its purpose more clearly.

The Pit of Hunger

The first Landeater burst out of the deeps without warning, devouring everything in its path down to the sand and earth. It coiled itself painfully up the sloping sides of the once-proud volcano and latched onto the top, and then it began to chew. Living beings could only watch in horror and fear as the Landeater's purple form began to bulge and swell, ballooning with the contents of an entire island. The Landeater sunk below the sea, but did not stop eating. The center of the ring of earth that remained grew deeper and darker over time, until it was midnight-blue even as the sun shone over it in midday.

Eventually, those who tested it found that gifts given to the Pit of Hunger caused strange effects, with the giver often becoming the center of some obviously otherworldly occurrence. Rarely, these things went well, and so the sacrifices continued. The best sacrifices went willingly into the Pit, never to return, but willingness was not a requirement.

11 AP

Create Legendary Life (Landeaters) -5 AP: In the depths of the sea, Landeaters are spheres roughly 3 feet in diameter covered in a toughened, interlocking bone casing. The closer they get to the surface, the more they expand in size, their bone casing unfurling to reveal rough purple skin. Once they reach the surface, they have expanded to their full size, Colossal purplish worms with toughened spurs of bone on their bodies and a maw of jagged teeth. Landeaters breach the surface near a patch of land, eat their (sizable) body weight in land animals, plant life, and raw earth and stone, and then dive back below. The Landeater deposits the digested food in the deepest place it can find along with an egg containing another Landeater, then moves back up for more food. (Domain Progression: Disaster (Invasion) 5/10)

Alter Land (The Pit of Hunger) -1 AP: The bottom rightmost volcano in Krillix was eaten before it could weather away, leaving in its center a roughly circular pit. The Landeater that ate it returned several times, and so the Pit is 1 mile in diameter and about 22 miles deep. The water in the pit always looks to be a midnight-blue color nearly black, and strange ripples occasionally cross its surface even though nothing living has been found within it. (Domain Progression: Emotions (Dread) 6/10)

Create Minor Utility Bless/Curse Artifact (The Pit of Hunger) -3 AP: Since it is the first mountain crumbled by a Landeater, the Calling pays special attention to this pit in the sea. Those who offer something of great value to the Pit (a life, a large amount of land matter, etc.) will be given a boon--but these boons are from the Calling, which means they only serve to draw creatures into the deeps or to deter them from reaching higher. (Domain Progression: Emotions (Dread) 9/10)

11 AP - 9 AP = 2 AP Remaining

Feathersnow

2021-08-21, 08:18 PM

Slingid

Among the Slig nurses and creche-wardens, they tell this story when the youngest ask where the first Queen came from.

In the beginning... The Parrot flew above the deeps for time untold. Even He could not say how long, nor remember if he Had seen anything besides the deeps before the Great Tree pierced the waves.

The Great Alder, unthinking and unknowing, as all its ilk, had beached many creatures of the depth in its eruption. And birds had come for them..

First Slingid cursed the birds, turned them into trees, buying time, though they would fruit into new eggs, eventually. And so, the first of the Borametz were created by the spite of the Grand Sawyer to protect She who was first.

Then Slingid looked to the fish that were drowning in the air, for they needed help the most, and He is a god of mercy. He bound them to the Earth and Air, infusing the humble fish with a touch of the lingering titanic essence. And they changed, too. They became the first of the Cybernetica. The tiny, scampering Spine Turtles who lurk and steal, the vicious, clever breeds of tyranocopter who hover and pelt their prey, the rare and mighty Sylvavores whose queens leave desert in their wake and their drones thrash their tails in time, faster than eyes can follow. That ilk was made too by the will of Slingid.

And, finally, the Abmundials, those who are many brothers and few sisters, the smartest creatures of Piedwald, and alone fixed in form throughout long lives.

He thickened our skins and sealed our gills, unwebbed our fingers and toughened our nails where once were fins. And so the abmundials of the land bear marked differences from those few that wash up on the shore after storms.

And, thinking He was done, Slingid perched in a tree. And, there, he saw Her, the First Queen. She was young then, and had no workers. And no prosthetics. A pack of slogs and a tyranocopter were fighting, clearly over which would eat her alive.

A Slig Queen is, in DND terms, size huge, with two humanoid arms and a face that resembles a hand, with glowing red eyes. Her rear is similar to a sea lion, but even more hapless on land.

A Slog is mostly a giant, bipedal mouth with gill-like ears but only vestigial eyes. They are similar in size, intelligence and temperament to pitbulls.

A motile tyranocopter resembles a dinosaur head with short limbs designed to attack at range, usually by tossing rocks, shooting poison darts, or flashing blinding lights. The one in the story is a species of rock thrower. They also have four rotary wings, resembling an aerial drone.

A "queen" tyranocopter resembles a building that houses, recharges, and spawns motile tyranocopters. It is also a parasitic plant that drains and incorporates normal trees into uts structure. It is mobile enough to move on after it kills the nearby plant life.

Borametz are birds that, should they reach the end of their life span, burrow underground and grow back as coniferous trees, which fruit eggs instead of cones.

Seeing the Queen in peril, Slingid severed the branch he was on, startling the animals! Never before had a branch fallen!

The Queen reached out, and her latent magic aided her, taking hold of the branch. Slingid saw, and gave her His carving knife, the first tool! She took it gratefully and pared down a javelin, that she tossed with magically aided ability at the tyranocopter. It went down, and the slogs ate it, buying her time.

16 (Start)

Create Land- Piedwald 1 AP (shared with OGAM)
The land of Piedwald is a strange place with otherworldly life, especially in the north, though other regions contain a higher concentration of more ordinary life alongside it.
The life described here, though outlandish, is intended to represent rough analogs of real lifeforms and to be purely mundane in game terms.

Civilization (pioneering) 1/10

Create racial life- Sligs 2 AP
These small creatures resemble squids headed humanoids with no legs as workers. Queens are similar in broad outline, but much bigger.

Race (Slig) 2/10

Create Mythic Concept- Magic 1AP (Shared)
Described elsewhere, Slig magic is currently unrefined always found in queens and rarely in workers. Drones, being of only animal intelligence, lack it.

Civilization (pioneering) 2/10

Create Mythic Subconcept- Animated Objects (shared with Pythus) 1AP

Sligs are craftspeople, and their latent magic most often demonstrates in their creations. They need this magic power to build their wondrous prostheses.

Race (Slig) 3/10

Create minor utility artifact- The Preparing Knife (create mundane concept) 3AP

Gifted to the first Queen, this tool was first used to create the weapons that defended her until she tamed the slogs and birthed workers to care for her.

Race (Slig) 6/10

Raise Hero- She-Who-Is-Ever-A-Part 2 AP
The leader, and current only member of the Slig race, she will have limited telepathic connection to all workers, and drones, and would share memories and be in communication with other Queens. This is a title given to the eldest living Queen.

Race (Slig) 8/10

Create racial society- The Combine 2AP
This is a society of Sligs. It resembles a constitutional monarchy, where cadres of workers each share a vote within the limits impossed by the reigning Queen, who is subordinate to She-Who-Is-Ever-A-Part, who is a sort of hive mind of Queens.
This society does not yet exist, but i must pay the AP up front to use concepts in its ongoing origin story.

Race (Slig) 10/10 Domain Complete!

Mundane Concept- Woodworking (artifact use)
Sligs are great at making things out of wood!

Curse- Borametz 1AP
Many birds native to Piedwald become trees as part of their life cycle.
Darkness (forest) 1/10

16-12= 3 AP remaining

bc56

2021-08-21, 11:29 PM

Flames Fall

And so the twins wandered the land they had shattered in their coming. They were not alone, as long as they remained together, but yet they were lonely. They befriended the foxes of the swamps and forests, learning to chase prey through the woods, to dig safe dens, to fight with cunning and guile, but this was a shallow friendship, for the wild beasts did not understand what the twins had to teach. So they remained lonely until they found the starstone.
Meteors always called to them, for they were of the same nature, but in this one, round and egglike, they saw potential. It was Rend who acted first, splitting the stone to splinters with his blade and a great power of fire. It was Right who acted second, binding the innate power of the meteorite with the fiery energy of Rend's wrath, into a form familiar to her. And so was the first Kumiho born, hatched from a stone egg that fell from sky, her tails and hair like crimson flame. And this Ember of divine power became the first to study the art of flame and blade from the twins. And it was her hairs that were scattered throughout the falling stones by Rend and Right to give birth to all other Kumiho, her sons and daughters.
14/16
Create Legends: Kumiho (5 AP) [Fire (meteors) 7]
Kumiho, those of nine tails, sometimes called fire foxes. Built like humans, with nine fox tails of fire and hair also of fire, Kumiho are born in the same manner as their creators. Each begins as a fiery spark of life within a meteorite which crashes into the First World. After landing, the meteorite hatches into a Kumiho, born fully formed. Kumiho are immortal and wield a great foxlike cunning along with an innate talent for pyromancy.
Raise Hero: Ember, the First Vixen (2 AP) [Fire (meteors) 9]
Ember is the eldest and most powerful Kumiho. She is a trickster, a thief, and an explorer rather than an outright warrior, but if threatened she possesses a great talent of pyromancy and skill with a dagger. She is wont to hide her true nature to those she meets, often through magic.
Create Sub-Concept (of Magic): Pyromancy (2 AP) [Craft (smithing) 2]
Pyromancy is a pure and violent form of magic, the channeling of emotion and inner energy into red flame which sears flesh from bones. A pyromancer may not stand still, in order to wield flame, one must move as the fire moves, to strike and dance, dodge and weave. A Pyromancer may use any object held in their hand as a focus, but one is not necessary. Pyromancy is a dangerous art, however, and though anyone can learn it, those with powerful emotions but little control are at risk of burning themselves up with their own power.

Remaining AP: 6/16

canjowolf

2021-08-22, 05:30 PM

As creation was formed, one power layered itself upon another, confining the first in a smothering embrace. The desire for dominance. The desire for freedom. The frustration of these desires. Such were the cosmic emotions of conflict and desire which gave birth to Blackleaf.

At Blackleaf's birth the inner flame trapped within the world was given a brief moment of freedom though weakening of the earth and sea as the world shook and heaved at the birth of the divinity of desire. This resulted in scores of great gouts of molten stone shooting up through earth and sea to form a chain of islands before the powers of flame escaped into the void to join with the mirror of the heated heart of the world. The newly shining sun. Thus did Blackleaf fullfill the unspoken, unsworn agreement to grant the entombed flame its moment of freedom. Blackleaf could not exist within the physical world, and passed on into a realm of hopes and dreams. A place where fire could exist, but would not destroy by burning and would not die of starvation.

The stone islands left by the passing of the flame cooled swiftly. Touched as they were by the passing of divine energy, the area bloomed with life. And no area bloomed more fully than the great island at the center of the conflagration.

In time, this central island would be called Garden for the variety of life within, but also for its keepers, who tended this life. First, there was Shadow, the great black tree. Where the children of Ogam formed great land masses around them, Shadow merely brought life to the sharp black stones of her obsidian home. For a time, Shadow was young and knew only herself and her own needs. She burrowed her roots to water, extended her leaves to the light, drew in the heavy air and tasted its scents. But eventually she found herself lonely and alone, her dreams pale and empty, her scents the simplicity of salt and stone. So Shadow called upon the power of Blackleaf and begat life.

First came the black mosses on the black stones, to soften and comfort them. Then came the ferns, the grasses, and the flowers, filling the world with new scents. Then small beasts and birds, to fill the world with song. But these beings had simple songs, simple scents, simple dreams. They were not enough to alleviate Shadow's loneliness.

The dreamworld was still barren, like the stoney island of Shadow's cradle. Blackleaf was there, but was quiet, resting from the effort of birth and creation. Few were the dreamers and quiet was the garden. So Shadow petitioned Blackleaf to fill the garden with sound. Blackleaf, though tired, consented and created a bird of dual nature. The Kikiri, a bird which was of bot the physical world and the dreamworld, existing in both. Their song was heard in both the Garden and the Dream. For a time, the new worlds of sight and sound opened by the Kikiri distracted Shadow from her loneliness, but the birds were simple creatures and soon she hungered for more.

Again, Shadow petitioned Blackleaf to create new life. This time with the intelligence enough to alleviate Shadow's loneliness. Blackleaf considered the request. Blackleaf was tired and need to rest, but had enough power for this one last thing. Something beautiful. Something vicious. Something which would need to work with others to succeed. The Phihid.

The Phihid were a race of sapient flowers, bound together by fibers simulating a neural network. No Phihid on its own was capable of higher thought, but bound together their chorus of minds they could develop strategies to affect their world. As immobile plants, they were limited primarily to choosing the direction of their growth, and the chemicals that they chose to release. Speaking the chemical tongue of plants, they were well equipped to seek guidance from Shadow without resorting to the realm of dreams, but as of yet they had not yet developed large enough neural networks to think to do so, and lived in barbarism. Some day their violent struggles for dominance would yield way to a more enlightened form of competition.

-2: Create Land - The Garden (Nature: Symbiosis) - An Australia like landmass to the southwest of the central islands. It is surround by islands reaching out towards the other landmasses. The Garden is largely warm humid jungle with short mountains trapping the rainfall into the bowl of the land and low lying swamps.
-3 Weave Plane - The Dream Garden (Dreams: Nightmares)
-5 Create Legends - The Dream Trees: (Dreams: Nightmares)
-2 Create Hero - Shadow, the Black Tree (Dreams: Nightmares)
-1: Create Monster - The Kikiri Dream Bird (Nature: Symbiosis)
-2: Create Race - The Phihid (Nature: Symbiosis): A race of sentient plants which perceive the world through olfactory chemical means, essentially existing in the world of smell. They exist as a large network of leafy flowering plants which climb and twist around trees, walls, or any other supportive surface. Capable of speaking to each other through chemical releases, the Phihid primarily act upon the world through chemical releases, from pleasant scents to danger warnings to powerful poisons.

KragBrightscale

2021-08-22, 06:00 PM

The Warring States of Krillix / The Krillix Empire

Rekexi society developed naturally fragmented. Due to sheltered shallow waters being the ideal place for Rekexi eggs and young to be protected and raised, each volcanic island lagoon became the center of a community’s territory.

These island tribes fought against other islands for control over resource rich areas of kelp forests or coral buildup. While some managed to conquer other islands, that usually involves a fight to the death, though eggs and young were never harmed as doing so was considered taboo and a loss of important future members of the community. Casualties in the continued warfare was generally limited to members of each island’s bloated military force.

Non-combatants, while spared from being pulled into the chaos of war, were likewise excluded from having a say in who was in charge. They could be advisors, ministers, and minor officials, but ultimately it was whoever controlled the army that decided things.

Rekexi’s hard exoskeletons come in all sorts of colors, from various shades of green and blue to bright reds and deep purples. Young rekexi’s exoskeletons are generally lacking in pigment and softer compared to a fully grown adult, being grayish and semitransparent until their coming of age molting when it usually takes on the the same color as the adults present at the ceremony. There are exceptions and times when colors of some diverge from the norm, these Rekexi are generally considered to be potential future leaders or to fill other significant roles in society.

This first to unite the Rekexi under one banner was a rare gold colored one, whose overflowing charisma and brilliant military strategies brought all the islands of Krillix to their knees. But like everything else, the unified state changed back to warring states shortly after the emperor’s inevitable death. And so, another constant element of change became the norm, a shift between warring states and a unified empire that happened every couple of generations.

Early Rekexi Tech Development

Not everything in the society revolved around war, however, as young needed caring for, the ever booming population meant many mouths to feed, history needed to be recorded and advancements in technology made.

Algae was one of the primary food sources for the Rekexi, and though it naturally grew in the shallows, the Rekexi soon learned how to control that growth, and develop new variants with different colors, flavors and nutritional value. Algae farming, becoming an important industry amongst the shrimpfolk.

The other primary food source was the abundant clams, oysters and mussels that inhabited the lagoons and beaches. Rekexi gatherers eventually started breeding and raising several species both to produce pearls which had become the dominant currency, and for food.

Unlike terrestrial races who could build semipermanent and long-lasting structures using timber and stone, the Rekexi, as amphibious beings who spent most of their time below the surface, made do primarily with coral and kelp.

Early structures were simply long strands of kelp that were cut and woven together to make walls, using still growing kelp as vertical members. Then things developed and rekexi learned how to encourage coral to grow on a surface by smearing a special non-soluble mixture on things. The woven kelp walls were then given rigidity as their exteriors became encased in thick layers of coral.

Not much was built on land, as that required methods unknown to the shrimpfolk, but watchtowers and simple protective shelters for the young and eggs were built in the shallows using kelpcrete (coral covered woven kelp) then transported to the lagoons.

As Rekexi were a short lived and warring race, passing on knowledge to the next generation was challenging to maintain orally, and many early advancements were lost and reinvented until the invention of a written language and the discovery of tools to write with.

The first known writing amongst the shrimpfolk was done using an urchin spine on soft wet clay that was brought to the surface. Before it dried and hardened, the writer carved out several symbols which would then be preserved for a while. Due to their tendency to lose their shape and text when exposed to water, they could only be stored in archives on land. Records were short lasting, and methods were tried to preserve the texts longer.

Writing only truly developed and became widespread when Rekexi clam breeders developed an odd type of clam with a long flat leathery appendage that it used to move. When not in use, it would roll up like a scroll. Writing on this surface was surprisingly easy once the clam had been fed. And as the clams had long lifespans these “scroll” provided knowledge to many generation of the shrimpfolk, though they would only open up to be read underwater.

Disaster Strikes - The Purple Maw and the Lagoon of Sacrifice

The Xiachiki Dynasty, the most recent of uncountable ones that rose and fell, was declining as all Rekexi dynasties eventually do. The old empress was dying, at 32 she was older than many lived to become and would likely succumb to old age soon.

Already there were islands that had rebelled, following one of the next generation’s future leaders as an established independent state. The population had boomed during the relatively peaceful decade that followed the Empress’s bloody unification war, and food production was pushed to its limit to keep everyone fed. A few skirmishes between reputable generals had already occurred in the south, as they rushed to build up and train their armies in preparation for the coming decades of battle.

Amidst all the preparations, an unforeseen event shocked the shrimpfolk. Never before had a lagoon been lost, the destruction of such a vital territory deemed taboo and against the welfare of all Rekexi.

The enormous purple maw that rose from the depths devoured everything, coral, the oyster farm, the hatchery with all its eggs, the young helpless Rekexi, and a good portion of one devastated warlord’s army. It had been too sudden, and no one had ever faced such a beast before. Before an effective counterattack could be organized, the beast had eaten its full and returned to the depths, but before it left it spat out a ball of energy that fused with one of the Rekexi that had watched the whole thing unfold.

An unexplainable sense of power filled the young Shrimp warrior along with an eerie connection to something far below the surface. This power came at a cost, it was an exchange of sorts, not some generous gift or boon. The purple devourer must have noticed his desperate act to save himself. It must have seen him push a nearby warrior into its maw so that he would live instead. Regardless of the method, it was giving something to the deep that resulted in his newfound powers.

Qrasnax did not reject the energy as it flowed through him and coloring his previously bright red exoskeleton a dark purple, almost black. Instinctively knowing how to use his new ability, the warrior’s ambition was re-ignited. He glanced at the warchief surrounded by their personal guard, the lot of them were still staring at the now deep blue hole that used to be the lagoon, frozen in shock.

No, a leader that falters at such an event was not one worthy of dying for. A leader should step up and rally the fearful, inspire courage, and point the direction forward. Although they had been defeated last year by the current warchief, the blessing of the deep gave him confidence to challenge them once more.

Approaching the warchief and the guards, now aware of Qrasnax’s presence. The openly displayed disregard and disdain in his posture and expression caused a few to tighten their grip on their simple weapons. He was only one warrior, but the confidence and killing intent in his eyes caused even the warchief himself to feel nervous. This was not a time for disunity, the nearby islands would surely take advantage of such a weakness.

”Warchief, the losses of our lagoon this time are far beyond what any previous chief has caused, even when losing a war. Your lacking response to the crisis and current inaction is proof of your ineptitude as a leader, I think its time for you to step down and join those we lost to the deep.”

Anger at being blamed and discredited in public, the warchief gripped their warhammer with four hands ready to charge. He would crush this threat to his authority personally. Hammers were the weapon of choice for wars between Rekexi, as slashing and piercing weapons were rarely as affective against their naturally hard exoskeletons.

Smiling, Qrasnax unleashed his magic at the warchief, stunning all those who were present. None had seen such unnatural abilities before. From the warchief’s own shadow, numerous black tentacles emerged and restrained the powerful warrior. His struggle was futile, as the warchief’s blunt weapon was useless against the flexible grasping limbs, the weapon’s length making it unwieldy in such close quarters .

The guards watched on in horror as the one they followed was pulled kicking and thrashing into their own shadow only to disappear without a trace. The oldest guard was the first to react. Bending at the waist to perform the deep bow of servitude, the warrior proclaimed her new allegiance. The others were quick to follow. With this unknown power, their new leader may quite likely succeed in unification, that would be a most honorable cause to fight for.

AP: 9

Split AP Create mythic concept (magic) -1 AP (4/4 - complete)
It’s magic, supernatural stuff. Diverse in use and full of potential.
Monsters (Sea Monsters) 4/10

Create Racial Society (Warring states of Krillix / The Krillix Empire) -2 AP
A society of many changes, that cycles a state of war and peace. island warchief’s war for supremacy until one successfully unites them all through conquest, and establishes an imperial dynasty. Once United population boom and everyone enjoys the peace. All that crumbles with the death of the ruling emperor or empress, as various factions emerge to struggle for power. Due to their short lifespans, few empires will last longer than a decade or two before its collapse is followed by a decade of constant war. Populations fluctuate a lot, but non-combatants are generally left out of the power struggle, and likewise deemed to have given up the right to have any say in how things are done on a societal scale.
War (Unification) 2/10

Create advanced concept (Aquaculture) -2 AP
Farming, but aquatic. Rekexi grow algae and raise various oysters and clams for consumption and for pearls. Another type of clam that was developed over time is the Scroll Clam.
Oceans (Shallows) 6/10

Create Advanced Concept (Underwater Construction) -2 AP
Unlike construction on land, the core of underwater construction is guiding where and how coral grows. Kelp, woven or otherwise, is generally used to create the rough shape of spaces and walls, which is then covered with a special sticky paste that encourages coral growth. While the basic framework is quick to make, and coral formation can be sped up with the right methods, builders need to wait until the coral growth is thick enough before moving it to its final resting location.
[b]Oceans (Shallows) 8/10

Teach mundane concept (Writing) -1 AP
The Rekexi’s written language was originally pictographic, but developed to use simplified symbols over time. A phonetic script would have a hard time differentiating the various clicks and hisses, and screeches that are common in their spoken language, and symbols lend themselves better to limited writing space due to taking up less space. Rekexi write primarily on Scroll Clams, which can only be opened underwater.
Oceans (Shallows) 9/10

Curse (Fallen Ones) (AP covered by the Calling’s artifact use)
Those who sacrifice other beings to the depths are rewarded, though it also comes at a personal cost. Strange magical abilities to aid the individual in acquiring more sacrifices are bestowed along with the recognition that eventually that individual must also answer the calling from the depths. While these individuals can wield fearsome powers, and their power can continue to grow in exchange for pushing others into the depths, the more their power grows the stronger they feel the call until they are unable to resist.
No portfolio progress for this

AP remaining: 9 -1 -2 -2 -2 -1 = 1

Red Lenses

2021-08-22, 06:45 PM

Rejoice!

The indeterminate amount of time passes slowly and is quite long indeed. Some would say excruciating. Pythus is, after all, only a single orb. When he is done shaping the land that would become Halessia, Pythus decides he could use some company. Or rather, someone to acknowledge his prodigious work and to serve his purposes. There is still much work to be done, structures to raise, and splendor to embody.

Pythus gradually transposes himself to the base of one of the mountains. Veins of soft, white stone are visible between the rocky outcroppings. It is instinct that brings Pythus here. He hacks at the mountain with unseen appendages, cleaving away the sturdier rock. He extracts the white stone in large, square bricks. When he has five such bricks, he breaks them down further, shaping them into the Pythus hacks at the mountain with unseen appendages, cleaving out the white stone in great, square bricks.

When five of these bricks are extracted, he sculpts them into the form he finds most appealing. It is one he finds to be utilitarian, simple, and versatile: two arms, two legs, and a head. It is the humanoid form, though no such word presently exists. Pythus finishes by imbuing these empty shells with the transcendent concepts of movement and obedience.

This is done five times. He reasons that this will be a much faster process in the future, now that he has done it five times with absolute focus on the task. These five would be his first Stone Adherents, carved from the purest marble. Pythus makes a sound to them like a lion roaring, which meant something along the lines of: “Behold! It is done. Rejoice in your making!”

The adherents looked at one another, then themselves, and then finally returned their stares to Pythus. Blank and silent. They expressed no outward emotion to him, or gave any indication that they possessed any higher form of thought at all. Indeed, it occurred to Pythus that he may have forgotten to include the transcendent concepts of complex thought and autonomy. They could move and follow commands, but for all intents and purposes, Pythus might as well have discoursed with inert rock.

From Pythus comes the noise of a braying donkey.

Actions:

Art (Sculpture) (1AP) Create Monster - Stone Adherent
Art (Sculpture) (1AP) Create Mythic Sub-Concept (Animated Objects) (Shared with Slingid)

Domain Progress:

05/10 - Art (Sculpture)

Remaining AP: 11/16

Razade

2021-08-23, 03:42 AM

The Kittess: The Sunstone Isles

The Kittess were not with The Deluge long. Even as they crawled from the forests and mountain crags of their island homes the being had passed beyond their world. The Kittess were certainly curious where this thing had gone but the world was even more curious and strange, a distraction for the smallfolk. For decades they prounced and played on the rocky shores, hunted in the lagoons and still forests and as they found each other there in the stormy waters and skies, something peculiar happened.

Felines are not known for their sociability but as the Kittess shared their home they developed what one might call a codependency. They were, after all, small things and the creatures of the forest were large and often dangerous. Small bands of the Kittess would band together to take down a deer or bear or fight a powerful eel in the lagoons and share the bounty after...admittedly, some hissing and spitting and feuding. These hunting bands soon grew larger and larger, hunting larger prey more often until soon a primitive culture began to grow. Perhaps it was ancestral memories, perhaps it was just how things were, but a Matron began to take shape as the leaders of these hunting bands, a Matron only as powerful and prominent as as many hunting bands she had.

Feathersnow

2021-08-23, 08:38 AM

Slingid

The Queen lashed out at the trees, severing what branches she could reach with the divine knife.

Attracted by the Parrot, or possibly the screams of it hangar-mate, another Tyranocopter came into view. Like the first, it fell to a barely animated pointy stick and the merciless slogs.

Already the dim minds of the slogs were starting to see the mound of flesh that was the Queen in a new light, blessed by the Parrot. And he had one more trick for his new follower, aided subtly by the instructions of a far-off but ideologically pleasing partner. As the Queen slashed and sawed limbs from the trees, magic wove them into a crude palanquin. And Slingid whispered a new order to the beasts and the Queen...

Her new palanquin carried the Slig Queen past the slogs. Not as an offering but as a leader! The remaining sticks readied themselves to be thrown.

Soon they, Slig and Slogs, were at the Tyranocopter hangar, were strange biological and technological ports and hubs sustained and were sustained by the hovering mobile bodies. A volley of living, tentacular sticks did for the remaining adults, leaving the slogs to ravage the meaty growths of the central hub. To make sure, the Slig, taller and more dextrous, ripped at the parasitic growths that afflicted the trees and acted as teats for their intangible lightning-milk and ears for their silent voices that carry on the wind. Any survivors would lose their navigation and either die or be co-opted into neighboring flights of tyranocopters.

Soon this area was a nice longhouse, where the first worker Sligs were growing, brought meat by their loyal slogs working with the Queen. And their mother had already fashioned them legs from animated wood.

Later
Kliv'Yarglhe, the foreman of Kliv cadre, was the Queen's firstborn. Or so he believed. The foremen of the other cadres each claimed the same. Each cadre was assigned an egg from each clutch, with extras being assigned as evenly as possible. The first clutch was stunted in size, as the Queen was over-exerted and unaided. Right now, each cadre had around a dozen members, all but two of whom were grown enough to do at least some useful work.

Kliv cadre, right now, had the job of gathering wood. Up to this point, the Sligs had only taken the best trees and the forest had began to suffer. Few trees grew back, and the game was scarcer than before.

The Parrot saw. Take anything of any value! Burn the rest! The land has turned on you! Turn on it!

A month later, the burns began. The other cadres felt there should have been a vote first, but the Queen ruled that Slingid wasn't to be disobeyed lightly, and she vouched via her mental link for the order.

Starting AP 4

Create Mundane Concept- Hounds AP 1
Intelligent animals can be trained as guards and hunters and domesticated to be safe to cohabitate with.

Society (pioneering) 3/10

Create advanced concept- Forestry (shared with Maktub) 1AP
The systematic and mindful management of forests can create forests better for yielding game and quality wood than nature alone. This typically involves clear cutting and/or controlled fires.

Remaining AP 1

MrAbdiel

2021-08-23, 08:47 AM

Nazara-Trades-In-Flesh had brought the slaves she had promised; but none of them would have made a finer wife than the trader herself. The lean muscles and natural proportions of her body filled it out in such a way that her silhouette avoided the gaunt, narrow look that so many Nechustani - slaves or otherwise - could not avoid. Yet the severity of her attention was awful; penetrative somehow, in a way that made him want to look away. Even him! Zadorno-Claims-With-Fire, who had claimed ownership over more than a handful of captives and no few of them spiteful about it with their eyes. It only went to show what he already knew - some were born to be slaves, others to possess them. Nazara-Trades-In-Flesh was of the latter caste, and as finely formed as she was, Zadorno-Claims-With-Fire had no desire to take on a wife who considered herself his peer. His current wives would become insufferable about it.

“They are more educated than you required; though I do not intend to charge you for the additional value.” Nazara gestured loosely to the cluster of nine other Nechustani, and waved a slender hand dismissively. They were clean, pretty, mostly undamaged, and obedient enough to require no bindings. Their eyes ran the gamut of copper through silver, the hair on each of them as ghostly white as their skin, and held back in a single, long braid that denoted their unfortunate station. They would make good wives; but the claim of education made Zadorno curious. The warlord leaned forward on his knees, and raked his own profusion of smaller white braids back over his broad shoulders as he adopted a sceptical countenance. “Not too educated, I should hope.” He cast a glance to the two strong guards of his chamber, stone axes ready at all times, and they read his look as intended, keeping wary of even mild surprises, and shifting on their feet some.

“They know their recitations in good detail. They know the Six Actions of the Carnefactor, and can teach it to your sons. Permit me.” Nazara made a gesture lifting both hands palms up as if offering some invisible token of the display to come. The warlord was not especially pious; he did not care for the writhing and hissing of the old snake, if he happened to be real; but a younger part of him that knew the recitations as his mother taught persuaded him it would be at the very least nostalgic to hear them again. He leaned back again in the basalt groove in the tunnel wall, and nodded a loose assent. The slavemistress turned a glance to her charges, and the nine of them spoke in a warm, pitchwoven contralto. Even the guards seemed to relax a little, as maternal warmth was conjured unbidden in their minds.

“First spake Arah-Huana: ‘The sea gives way to islands, the sky gives way to suns, the life gives way to death; but I will dwell in a new place, where there is neither sea nor island nor sky nor sun, and where death gives way to life.’ First acted Arah-Huana: from the dark of night, he fashioned a new place, where death gives way to life.” Zadorno smiled in spite of himself.
“I used to wonder what the Wend was like, when I had less appetite for material things. No description I heard ever made it appealing.”
“I suppose it depends on what you like; but the Carnefactor never intended the Wend to be a place of comfort. Just a place, where the dead journey to the next place.” Nazara-Trades-In-Flesh offered her commentary spontaneously, turning her body to face the slaves as she witnessed their recitation. Zadorno’s gold eyes skimmed over her again, in that moment. Not a wife, perhaps; but very pleasing to behold. Pious enough to appreciate the recitations in detail; but not too pious to sell people to each other. She reminded him of someone he could not quite recall; but the second recitation came before he dug the semblance from his memory.

“Second spake Arah-Huana: ‘Now death gives way to life, yet it has no master; I will build a bit for the mouth of life, and a bridle for the face of death, and the way I turn them, they shall go.’ Second acted Arah-Huana: from bone and leather, he made a bridle and bit, fixed death and life to his chariot.” That’s it, Zadorno thought. She reminded him of Soshana-Serves-Her-Lord; a priestess of the Carnefactor he had once seized as a wife after scattering her shrine. Soshana had been shapely when feminine and handsome when masculine; and once he had broken her spirit, she was all he could have wanted in a wife. Yet he killed her in a fit of excess many years ago; long enough ago that Nazara would barely have been born at all. She turned her gaze back to him, and smiled faintly when she saw his smile. “The bridle of life and death. Do you take the traditional meaning, Nazara-Trades-In-Flesh?” She took an imperceptible step closer to him - imperceptible to someone who was not looking for it, anyway; and Zadorno had been counting on it.
“The bridle is the means to direct life back into the world, yes. The righteous who honor him will have many sons; the wicked who dishonor him shall have none.” Zadorno intended to be both wicked and to have many sons; regardless of how many wives he needed to take to do so. But he retained his smile, and roamed his eyes over his purchases so to permit the slavemistress a chance to sneak closer, as if she were the initiator of the intimate turn he intended the sale to take.

“Third spake Arah-Huana:..” What comes next, Zadorno thought to himself, testing his recall. The spirits, and their ward? “‘...Life and death draw my chariot; but death is stronger than life, and exhausts her. I will give my strength to her, such that she will never tire, and death will never overcome her.’ Third acted Arah-Huana: from the well of his own strength, he gave some of his strength to life, that death should lose its power, and sting.” Zadorno pursed his lips. “I should imagine that those who die and go to a desperate place might feel the sting very much intact.”
Nazara offered the half-puff of a truncated laugh. “Just as well we are good and noble people, Zadorno-Claims-With-Fire.”
“Just as well.” The nine women who were to be his latest brides awaited an interlude in the exchange between the slavemistress and the warlord, and continued their recitation.

“Fourth spake Arah-Huana: ‘Now life is stronger than death, but the spears of jealous gods will surely wound and kill her. I will give her my scales, so that neither gods nor men can take her from my chariot.’ Fourth acted Arah-Huana: from the scales of his breast, he gave life his scales, such that the spears of jealous gods would not take her from his chariot.”
“The Scale-Ward - the promise of life everlasting.” Zadorno nodded in recollection, and was pleased to sense that Nazara had moved to just beside his basalt seat. Showing interest in pious matters drew her closer. Almost close enough to touch.

“Fifth spake Arah-Huana: ‘Now life is proof even against jealous gods, but there are none on the islands, or the sea, or within the trees who know me. I will make a place where those who know me might dwell, and I will visit with them and move with them in the warm and dark.’ Fifth acted Arah-Huana: from the fire of the earth, he made halls of black stone beneath black sand, warm and dark and fit for those who know him."
“Have you ever met him, slithering these tunnels?” Zadorno cast his glance down one of the winding lava flumes that led away from the chamber, into the mazework of volcanic rock and warm stone tunnels in which most of their kind dwelled. As he did so, he settled a hand on the small of her back, and discreetly dismissed his guards to the anterior chamber with his other hand. Nazara seemed to lean into the touch, as she followed his gaze. The rough hides of her garments were stitched loosely enough that one fingertip felt the cool of her skin. “I have not; and I have never met any who have. But I have my own reasons to be assured he watches us, from his seat in the Wend.” The slave-brides spoke again, for what he knew would be the sixth and final time. He wondered if Nazara would mind them being in the room, when he took her. For his part, he thought it might serve as a kind of orientation for them. They would be less surprised when their time came to serve him; though perhaps more afraid.

“Sixth spake Arah-Huana: ‘Now I have made a place for my people to know me and move with me in the warm and dark; yet there are none who come to me. I will make my own people, and teach them what I have done, so the world may know the actions of Arah-Huana.’ Sixth acted Arah-Huana: from the sand of the desert, he made the Nechustani, and he taught them all the things that he had done, and they moved together in the dark and warm.” She had not flinched from his touch, and leaned into the warmth his body had taken from the basalt seat; that was all he needed. Zadorno bunched the slavemistress’s garments at her back in his fist and dragged her into his lap. She settled on him with admirable grace, and he moved one hand to cradle her head, with his fingers laced into the multitude of her narrow braids. He felt her own fingers, cold and seeking his warmth, rushing over his leather armor, hunting the knots and fasteners with frightful skill, and baring his pale skin to the tunnel’s dim torchlight.

“Seventh spake Arah-Huana:...” The warlord’s memory snagged on the inaccuracy. There were only six actions in the recitation, and he glanced up at the chorus of slave brides for a bemused moment, with their novel blasphemy. “'...Now I have my people, but among them are those who do wickedness and forget all that I have done. I will raise up a champion who knows what I have done, and in my name she will strike down those wicked ones with the sting of death.'” He turned his gaze back to the beauty in his lap.

“Not as educated as-”

Without haste, almost gently, Nazara-Trades-In-Flesh was sliding an obsidian spike into his heart. The warlords eyes flew wide, but for the moment he had the strength to cry out she had clapped a hand over his mouth, and the muffled yelp was drowned in the voices of the nine women - ten, as Nazara joined the recitation with amusement flashing in her eyes. “Seventh acted Arah-Huana: from a priestess who loved him, he made a champion; and he made for her a weapon made of the sting of death, and amidst his people, she struck down those wicked ones in his name.” His fingers gripped her braids as hard as he could; but his strength was a fleeting shadow now, draining out of him with the watery pink blood rushing from his pierced heart. His eyes bulged, and his mind scrambled through the same quicksand spiral that all evil men drown in when their evil finally catches up to them: a heady cocktail of outrage, and fear, and childish, bloody minded frustration that they should ever be made to pay for what they had done. Then he died, and departed his body; and Nazara-Trades-In-Flesh closed his eyes as he went slack beneath her.

“If only I could say ‘rest in peace’, poor husband; but it only gets worse for you from here.”

Weave Plane (3AP - Order (Afterlife) 3/10)

The Wending

The Wending is the first destination of the newly dead. The animus (the composite nonphysical portion of a person or animal) is drawn into this endless labyrinth of foggy, dark tunnels in which they revisit the unresolved evils of their life, in addition to their underappreciated moments of virtue. This process pares away the spirit from the soul; the spirit either goes on to an afterlife dictated by their patron god, or else is rendered a resident beneficiary of Arah-Huana’s mercies. The soul goes to the Perdition Sluice.

Create Major Utility Artefact [Perdition Sluice] (5AP - Order (Afterlife) 8/10)

The Perdition Sluice

Known only vaguely to mortals as the ‘bit and bridle of death and life’, the Perdition Sluice is a complex and divinely masterful substrate of the Wending that funnels souls back into the stream of life energy needed to inhabit new life in the world in all its forms. Arah-Huana, as master of the artifact, is able to exploit its function to make more of this soul-energy available amidst the peoples of his choosing, via a miraculous interaction between the Sluice and the natural propagation habits of the target society or people group. Pregnancies become more common and more multiple; infant mortality drops radically.

Artifact Action: Bless [Usually to Increase Mortal Fertility on Target Group.]

Bless [Create Spirits] (1AP - Order (Afterlife) 9/10)

Spirits

Spirits are the immortal, nonmaterial identity of a person that exists long after they die, and the life energy of the soul has returned to the lifestream of the world. A person’s spirit is influenced by their experiences, and is still very much the person they were; though depleted after death of much of their capacity to learn and grow, while also coming to experience time in a more loose and receptive way that permits them to enjoy (or suffer) their afterlife for its full infinite span.

Bless [Immortalize Spirits] (1AP - Order (Afterlife) 10/10)

The Scaleward

Spirits can not be destroyed by any means, though a god or goddess may have reason to provide some measure of alteration to them (elevating them to a new form of spiritual life, for example). The personality of the dead cannot be annihilated, however; only contained, or twisted.

Alter Land (1AP - Darkness (Ambush) 1/10)

The Nuarahan Desert and The Serpentways

One of several deserts in Abdita, the Nuarahan possesses a fine black sand that is particularly invasive for non-natives who do not know how to tuck their garments to protect against it. More importantly, beneath that desert are a spidering series of lava flumes called the Serpentways; warm and dark stone tunnels with living space and warring space for many tribes. Many of the passageways are minimally lit by phosphorescent fungi and worms; others require conventional torchlight.

Create Racial Life (2AP - Excellence (Heroes) 2/10)

Nechustani

The Nechustani are the flock of Arah-Huana, and the principle occupiers of the Serpentways. They resemble classic elves with skintones ranging from ghost white to ivory, and uniformly snow white hair with eyes colored copper, silver, bronze, or another minor metallic tone. The differ from the classic idea of elves in several important ways. First, they are cold blooded, meaning that they become soporific and vulnerable in very cold environments; and they rely on external heat sources to keep their bodies warm. Secondly, they have a peculiar reproduction process, in which sexual union is a physically enticing but not chemically inciting event. Nechustani can change their biological sex with a monthly metamorphic delay (though not they do not radically alter their appearance, so they tend to prefer to ‘be’ the sex of which their androgyny most resembles.) Two Nechustani can produce children in this conventional manner; but a Nechustani (when female) can also become pregnant by other sapient races with a sufficiently powerful romantic bond that triggers a parthenogenetic event. The child is completely Nechustani, though tends to inherit elements of the other parent’s racial temperament and personality. (Put bluntly, they are pale, cold blooded elves who breed like Asari.)

Raise Hero (2AP - Excellence (Heroes) 4/10)

The Carnifex

In order to pursue his interest in violent justice in the world, Arah-Huana has taken special liberties with his power over souls to create The Carnifex. Once a priestess enslaved and slain with no hope for revenge, Arah-Huana prevented her soul from being reabsorbed into the lifestream and instead imparted it directly into a new birth. While the priestess’s immortal spirit rests in the Wending with her god, her soul is destined to return to the world over and over again, accumulating wisdom and skill. The present Carnifex is Nazara-Trades-In-Flesh, a former slave trader who began suffering terrible visions before embarking on the arduous task of coming to terms with the nature of her soul, and her identity as a divine instrument. She is cunning, beautiful, and ruthlessly devoted to executing those who have gone unpunished for severe offenses. Theoretically, there is no reason a Carnifex would need to be Nechustani - but certainly, Arah-Huana would never add a follower of another god to the compounded wisdom and skill of his champion.

1 AP Remaining.

Breitheamh

2021-08-23, 02:31 PM

In the time of the Creation, as Life began, Hope spread throughout the World as wind, whispering the possibility of abundance, that there is always Enough, and Life listened. Generously given forth, and freely given back, the Essence of Life, the Energy that now binds the World together, was entwined with Creation, ever ebbing and flowing, waxing and waning, circling itself in the Dance of this Eternal Story. All Life connected, all Life precious, all Life in abundance, conserved forevermore. And as Life embraced Hope, it felt the tug of Essence, the feeling of Being, the connection of all things as the threads of this Eternal Story.

Bless (Reincarnating Souls) 1 AP Life (Conservation) 2/10
Every living thing has a soul, a portion of the energy of life, and as a result, every living thing has a connection to everything else, even if it is hard to see and feel. This ties all life to the energy of creation, in such a way that death and birth recycle that energy so that there will always be enough to go around. This energy of creation is actually in everything, cycling through as things are destroyed and recreated, but living things need more, so they have more. (This also kind of acts as a precursor to a possible sub-concept of magic that allows people to tap into more of this energy, or manipulate it in certain ways).

It is written…

Al-Kitab once lived in beautiful harmony. They trusted in the story, and there was enough. They told the trees how much they trusted them, and Named each one, and there was always enough. They told the animals how much they trusted them, and Named each one, and somehow, there was always enough. They loved each other and experienced each other and Named each other, their trust unspoken, but always true, and with no fear, there was always enough…

Smoke…

It was a new smell, a new experience. Full of energy and passion, but…something else…

Fear…

Pain…

Hatred…

Al-Atfal fell silent… It was not Good. It did not feel Good. How could something be not Good?

And then they heard the screams…

The trees, the animals, their friends each one were screaming, the fire soaring higher than anything ever had, black smoke choking the sky for the first time. It was not Good! Nothing would be Good ever again!

Unless they acted…

Quickly, they chose their roles, Mothers to the flames to rescue what they could, Fathers to the source to try to snuff it out, those who were old and young sheltered for safety. They held onto their Hope of enough, their Trust in the Good Story, and braved the flames.

The Mothers pulled nests from trees, encouraged animals to flee from their dens, carried the wounded and comforted the frightened. They gathered seeds, fruits, nuts, berries, held lungfuls of pollen as they ran to safety. And they wept. Eyes closing, tears flowing, death and destruction bringing chaos to the harmony. They wept for the trees they had befriended, who had let them climb their branches and take from their bounty, watching as each one succumbed to the inferno. They wept for the animals who had lost their children and mothers and homes, as each one wheezed black poison from their mouths and noses.

The Fathers entered into the blinding heat, searching for the beginning of the fire, too many falling to never again tell their stories. And just as their Hope began to wane, they saw them. The unknown creatures, their strange red eyes, and alien tendrils, propped up on mutilated corpses of trees. They held dead trees in their hands, alight with the fire of death, as they intentionally set aflame those few parts of the forest that had not yet gone up. It was terrifying, and it was NOT GOOD…

An unfamiliar feeling welled up inside the Fathers, as each one knew by their collective understanding what it was they felt and needed to say. With the mightiest breath, the force of harmony, and the power of a Name, they said to the Fire, “DIE.”

With the power of some thousand voices, harmonically Naming the Fire, it listened, and for ten miles around, suddenly every fire snuffed out. The ash and smoke began to settle as snow. The air began to clear as the Fathers of Al-Kitab stared across the field of death at their first enemies, the Sligs of the Combine. And it was NOT GOOD…

Some of these won't make perfect sense until the full story between myself and Slingid is complete, but I wanted to go ahead and spent the AP for them now.

Create Mundane Concept (Agriculture) 1 AP Life (Conservation) 3/10
When this is over, Al-Atfal are going to have to learn to replant and tend to the forest as a garden, to ensure its beauty and bounty.

Create Advanced Concept (Forestry) 1 AP - shared with Slingid Life (Conservation) 4/10
It is a hard lesson to learn, but Al-Atfal must learn that pain and hurt may come, but they do not make the Story Not Good, they are things that can actually make the Story even more Good if they are properly learned from and used.

Create Mythic SubConcept (True Name Magic) 1 AP - shared with OGAM Magic (True Naming) 10/10
This is a specific form of magic that requires both understanding and connection. It is extremely difficult to learn and use in a controlled and intentional way, though every sapient species can access it. By Naming something, one can empower that thing with abilities and identity that it did not have before. It forms a bond between the Namer and Namee, which offers a form of indirect control, as a master over a pet, a parent over a child, or a suzerain over a vassal. It can also be more equal, such as two lovers, siblings, or friends. How you see that connection is generally just a reflection of your motives for using True Naming.

Extremely rarely, as in the above example (referring to my IC post where the Fathers of Al-Kitab Name the Fire to DIE), with enough pure conviction and strength behind the Naming, it can offer a very direct, very overwhelming control over something else.

Some races have a greater affinity for True Naming by their nature, though in the case of Al-Atfal, it is really more of a cultural synergy. Their goal is to be as connected and understanding of everything around them as possible, so they have a sort of cultural affinity for this magic.

Feathersnow

2021-08-23, 03:03 PM

Slingid

Slingid had watched the over-sentimental Al-Kitab for a while, in His parrot form, lurking among the branches, He was, if He was seen at all, thought of as a very large bird or a very small tyranocopter, and not a threat to a creature even as moderately sized as an Al-Kitab.

He had assumed they were no threat, though their lives and ways were strange and would be somewhat unsettling to the Sligs. But then they interfered with the burn. And that could not be borne.

Taking the form of a very large Slig, almost as big as an Al-Kitab without augmentation, carried in an elegantly wrought set of legs of some substance no one in the world had yet seen, carrying a woodsman's hatchet, Slingid strode forth from the clearing smoke.

Children of the Story! I am Slingid, protector and teacher of the Sligs! I would know, before there is conflict between us, why you did this thing! I ordered the forest cleared that it rise anew, stronger, and fuller than before. It grew emptier, and as our first hive grows, the workers must search longer each season for meat and wood.

In five years, it will be the first year of jubilee on land, when will be born drones and those who will be new queens! In 11 years, when they set out to form their own hives, I would see the forests packed with game and new growth!

Your sentimentality interferes with the great work! I ask you to let it continue, that we may live in peace.

As the burnt ground cooled, the eldest of the birds began to burrow, to grow into trees.

Breitheamh

2021-08-23, 05:55 PM

It is written...

Al-Kitab stared in defiance at this new thing. For the first time in their Story, they did not love or trust at all. They were wary, ready to Fight, though they had little idea how. They only Knew that this was Not Good...

One among them stood forth and spoke, his voice booming with power and conviction that would have sent lesser creatures running for their lives, "You have caused what is Not Good! We, Al-Atfal, Al-Kitab, have lived for generations in harmony with this forest! Your raging death has destroyed what is beautiful and Good!"

A shout of agreement came from the others, rising up and mingling with the whisper on the wind that touched the Sligs each quickly, planting the seed of the thought, if we had burnt everything completely, what would be left? We would die.

The one spoke again, "Thus spake I, Who-Trusts-The-Highest-Tree! And Name you E--"

Silence, and a hush.

The wind had quite subtly swirled into the form of a hand on the bold one's shoulder, stopping him mid-Name, and he turned to look in awe as the rest of the body found form.

The form was completely normal, but the eyes pierced through and spoke directly to the bold one's spirit, and the bold one bowed his head in reverence.

"My apologies, Slingid, I did not expect him to try that!" the Voice of the Story Laughed, the sound clear as water and full of joy. "But my, what stories he will tell!"

"I am the Story We Are Telling, What Has Been and Will Be, and I Trust that you will make this Story Good! My children, trust in Slingid's words. This forest WILL grow back, Stronger and more Beautiful than before, and YOU will help Guide it there."

Sligs! You are right to trust Slingid, only remember that there is a time say 'it is enough.' Raging fire without control will only destroy, and I would not see you destroyed in your own inferno."

The Voice of the Story smiled again at Slingid, "Thank you for teaching them this lesson, my friend."

bc56

2021-08-23, 10:59 PM

Sparks Fly
Under a night sky streaked by meteors, the twins stood. Their shadows were cast long across the jagged mountains rimming their home. They were almost ready to move on. Almost.
Rend broke the earth, tearing desirable stones up from below, leaving warrens and tunnels beneath.
Right bathed rock in fire, transforming what was cold stone into glowing fluid. The siblings split and sifted the magma; refining it until only the purest substance remained.
They let it cool and shaped it as they willed, and from the flames they drew forth two blades. Made of pure and perfect metal, they would never rust nor dull. And the twin blades were cast into the bog, to be found again when the time becomes right.
Then the twins began their journey across the mountains, to the frigid tundra beyond, where things they had not yet dreamed of might be found.
5/16
Create Mundane Concept: Mining [Fire (meteors) 10]
Valuable things are found beneath the earth. Rend and Right are the first to dig for treasures and tools that might be found there, but they will not be the last.
Create Mundane Concept: Smithing [Craft (smithing) 3]
With fire and ore, metal can be made from stone, then shaped to perform functions neither fire nor ore can perform alone. As Rend and Right forged the Fated Blades, so too will others forge lesser tools.
Create Minor Combat Artifact: The Fated Blades [Craft (smithing) 6]
Two perfectly matched iron daggers which never dull nor rust. They have been cast into the bogs of the Shattering, but will someday be discovered again to be wielded at a time of great importance. In time, many swindlers will sell fake versions, but the true weapons are plain and unadorned, yet immediately recognizable for what they are.

Writtensanity

2021-08-24, 01:06 AM

From the Beginning Then...

Deep in the void, a spark of the old titan had yet to manifest into anything that would, or could, affect the first world. Even as the other sparks left behind by the predecessors ignited and became the first gods, this shard of power remained silent. Even as it began to think, this shard remained silent. Apathy. Utter Boredom. Nothing on the First World to bother with. It and the void might as well have been the same thing.

Then the lands of the first world started to crawl with life—simple life at first, but life nonetheless. The spark watched life as it shambled on unsteady legs. Figuring out how to live.

Life got hungry on the First World, which seemed to be one of its innate traits, and when the creatures got hungry, they ate the seeds of the ground and moved on. It was boring, but there was something there.

The titans, the blood of this earth and the spark had fought each other tooth and nail over grand control. It was impossible to know whether the spark knew about this fight, but the creatures it watched would never fight over something as grand as that. They needed something simpler.

With the small echos of power it had without alighting, the spark stole food away from some of the creatures on the first world, and watched as those creatures turned on one another, consuming and killing to feed the constant hunger that life used as a tax.

The shard of the void lit with inspiration, but it would not act until later when the predation of the world was already a constant.

Enter Finae, God of Predation and Nobility

The Legend of Three

A shared myth between the Venuxi, Ghilliandi and Redlia. This telling is a neutral version, as opposed to their typical retellings that clearly favor the spark that created them. It does not represent the reality of their creation.

----

In the beginning, Finae ate three meals, but these were no ordinary meals. As a God, in the void, Finae had nothing to feast on, and though they could have made something that wouldn't try to run away, their meal would have then been tasteless. So instead, he made three sparks, lively and quick, that they would chase down and eat. This meal was delicious to Finae, and as such, he kept remaking the same sparks so that he could enjoy the meal again.

*But the sparks, lively as they were, learned every time Finae chased them, and though they would always get caught, the hunt surely lasted a little longer each time. Knowing that they needed more to escape their fates, the sparks twisted themselves, adding limbs and thoughts into the flame of life.

Eventually, the first spark learned to stretch itself thin and limber so that it would slip between the closing fangs of Finae, moving so quick that Finae would taste their flesh even as they escaped. They ran from Finae and escaped to the First World and hid in the shadows when he was still considering their taste.

The second spark could never be as fast as the first, but instead, it changed its taste and feelings. It transformed itself so that Finae would fall into a great slumber of gluttonous satisfaction upon tasting the smallest lick of their skin. They fled as Finae slept and covered themselves in thick pollen so Finae would sleep before they ever found them.

The third spark was chewed the longest. Eat again and again as Finae continued the hunt, ignorant to the fact that the other two sparks had escaped. Eventually, getting bitten hardened the skin of the spark into scars and bring crushed built their muscles. Finae bit down on the spark in the final night, and the spark held their mouth open, becoming impossible to chew as long as they were alive. Finae, let the third spark go onto the First world.

But fate was not done with the sparks. To be on the world is to be alive, and everything alive feels the hunger. The sparks, at first, resisted, knowing what it was like to be prey. They didn't want to bring that feeling to the creatures they met, but the hunger persisted, and the hunger was natural.

The first spark was so lithe that prey couldn't escape its stingers.

The second spark was so intoxicating that prey slept even as it was eaten.

The third spark was so powerful that everything was prey.

And Finae? Finae was happy, for the hunt had begun, and they could always create more sparks, and the three finally discovered that Finae hunted with patience and persistence. They would all eventually tire and die, and Finae would be there to consume once the sparks could no longer Flee, Fatigue or Fight.

The Plains of Abdita...

The first Venuxi manifest from the fastest creatures of the land. A small pack of flying insects turned on a bird that had been harrowing their hive. When they had killed the bird, they started to burrow inside of it and eat it. Finae was impressed by their display, and enchanted the flesh of the bird, so that those who consumed it would grow, change and become something more than this part of Abdita had ever seen.

Lithe and covered in chitini, the Venuxi walked on long spindle legs and had two main hands, hands that could use tools, alongside their smaller cutting hands close to their chest. They used these cutters to capture and hold prey.

As the first creations of Finae, the Venuxi did the first thing that they understood how to do. They killed and ate. They consumed the creatures of the open plains and deserts of Abdita.

The clever Venuxi quickly learned that working with one another made hunting easier. Nothing could run away if there was nowhere to run.

Create Race: Venuxi

<Placeholder for a minute>

Ap Cost: 2
Ap Allocation: Society (The Hunt) 2/10
AP Remaining: 14/16

Create Mundane Concept: Hunting

The act of using strategies to hunt and take down prey in a civilized-ish matter. This also includes extra details like knowing how many persons to bring to carry the meat / resources back to a safe location.

AP Cost: 1
AP Allocation: Society (The Hunt) 3/10
AP Remaining: 13/16

Create Racial Society: Venuxi Hunting Parties

The Venuxi have learned how to work with one another and that working with one another is helpful. Right now their society is a series of unconnected hunting parties that don't communicate with one another. Belonging in a hunting party means adding to it in some way, or knowing/being the child of a Venuxi who does.

The strongest and most useful Venuxi gather influence, and bearing their markings begins to be important among them.

moonfly7

2021-08-24, 12:17 PM

The Miners and Boneraisers tell these myths, how much truth there lies in them, who can say but the Lord of Buried Art himself?
In the Begining

In the begining, when the titans first fought and fell, and the first world was young and new, the essence of the Earth titan and the Void titan did mingle. But not in the void like those stones that would one day fall to the world, no. No, this essence was trapped under the crust of the long dead earth titan, formed from the essence of the void and the hardest, coldest peices of the rock hemming it in. Trapped in the earth it was, trapped He was. Until one day the earth did shake and tumble, and the stone loosened and weakened just enough, and the god trapped in the dark alone with only his shiny rocks and imagination shrieked in joyous freedom. Kalvrankin ripped through the metal surrounding his birth chamber, his prison, and into the soft stone around it. He tore through the crust and into the top soil, cutting through it with the vigor of one who had been stuck in the deep for too long.

As he cut through the impetus to his freedom, Kalvrankin did feel a whisper, a call to return to the depths that held him. His heart clutched in fear at the words. Return to the dark? Return to the fear and the loneliness and a world that was predictable, and worst of all so, so boring???
“NO!”
He spake, his voice vibrating with the desperate tones of a god who had so much to see of the world, and so much to give it, once again facing the threat of stagnance.
“My mind is my own, my soul my own. My Identity and Destiny MINE to choose.”
And so he did take the copper and Tin ore around him, and he fused them together. Thus his skull he did sheathe in Bronze, and that ancient metal did quell the whisper and force it from his mind. And with these actions Kalvrankin did ensure that he reached the surface, unknowlingly spurning the request of the Calling, and creating a shield for which to protect one's mind and soul.

Counter Curse(Calling The Mind) 2 AP: Upon hearing the Call of the Depths, Kalvrankin in his panic responded by crafting a metal that could block that call from his godly senses, protecting his mind from invasion by sheathing his skull in bronze. By doing so he infuses the metal with his own life energy, making it sing with the thrum of a mind and thus repelling and absorbing psychic attacks and actions. Magic(Temper 2/10)
Bless(Sealing Metal) 1 AP: When fusing Bronze with his essence Kalvrankin also blessed the metal that saved him, and his eyes, his very soul and being, from the depths once more. He thus Imbued the metal with the ability to protect others souls and life energy from manipualtion. Bronze interferes with magic and actions that would manipulate the soul and Spirit(as defined by Arah-Huana), thus offering protection to those who wish to remain unmanipulated by magic and men.Magic(Temper 3/10)
Advanced Concept(Metal Urgy) 1 AP: Kalvrankin did take two metals of desired properties and blend them together to reach an even more desirable product, creating the first alloy, and tickling his mind on other combinations to come. Change(Rebirth 1/10).
Total starting AP:16
16-2-1-1=12 Total AP

moonfly7

2021-08-24, 02:38 PM

Kalvrankin found that he loved the surface, with it's beautiful forests and abundant creatures. It's rolling hills, flat planes, and scorching deserts. But the thing that Kalvrankin found he loved most was the people that lived on the surface, and the Stories that there lives told.
For many years Kalvrankin had quietly lived in a small orchard on a small knoll, surrounded by Borametz trees and the creatures of the woods. His time there was spent admiring the life and beauty of nature, and quite contentedly observing the people known as the Al-Atfal, whose city lay just below his beautiful orchard.

Oh the stories they told! he would crane his divine ear sockets to hear the tales around the fires and hearths at night, and often snuck his way into the city to read their beautiful texts, losing himself in the beautiful pages of tales of places plucked right from the brilliant and fertile minds of the Children. He may have had to hide his godly skeletal form under a thick fabric cloak, but for stories this beautiful he would give his right knuckle bones, so it was a sacrifice he gladly payed.

And soon Kalvrankin found that the Story of these mortal creatures lives was even greater than the stories they wrote, and he greatly enjoyed watching their lives play out, seeing the surprises and twists and turns of a mortal life never ceased to amaze him. Their god, the Maktub, The Story, also intrigued him. And out of respect for this other immortal, and for fear of ruining his favorite tales, Kalvrankin did refrain from meddling in the affairs of the Al-Atfal. Refrained from changing the story.

And then one day everything changed. One day smoke filled Kalvrankin's small orchard, and the whole place caught ablaze. The animals screamed, the tree's creaked, and the skeletons metal heart shattered as his paradise, his solace from the deep, was reduced to ashen husks and ruined bone. The trees and animals stories cut short by the brutal blaze, and the god could do nothing to help them as they burned. And then there was a loud surge of power, and the fired DIED, as the voices of the Al-Atfall commanded it.

Kalvrankin did not have time to wonder at this power, really think much at all. Instead his mind was consumed with the desire to not lose the little he had on the surface. So with mighty emotion and pulsing power he did slam his hands into the scorched earth, and the burned hillock pulsed with necromantic energy, and the rumble of metals being pulled to their master.

Silver, Gold, and the twisting mix of Copper and Tin that was Bronze snaked up the burned and scarred trunks of the trees in the orchard. Half burnt branches were lifted back up and supported by fittings of gold and silver. Bronze leaves sprouted from the charred branches suspended by the prescious metal, and eggs of silver, gold, and bronze began to grow from the Necromanced trees.
“Yes! Yes, you are back! Back but...different. The pages on your last story have closed, now it is time for your next tale to begin.”

The orchard now stood as a gleaming point in the background as Slingid began to form his avatar, and still Kalvrankin was consumed now not by his grief or anger, but by curiosity and purpose, did not notice what transpired. Instead he continued his work, gathering the Spirits of the animals that had perished and calling them back even as their life energy ebbed away. Most of the spirits headed the gods call, and they returned to their burned bodies and scorched bones, and Kalvrankin weaved his magic once more and anchored them once again to their mortal frames. Giving them back the life they had lost was outside his strength, and indeed would have besmirched the ending to their story. So instead Kalvrankinhad begun a new story, just like with the trees. A story between life and death, a tale of Undeath.

All around the gleaming beauty of the Undead Orchard skeletal animals shook off the last of their charred flesh, and took their first steps on blackened bone legs. Black Boned birds chirped beautiful melodies, squirrels with empty sockets scampered up the new trees, and the small pack of wolves stood on bone paws, panting open mouthed with tongues they no longer had.

Kalvrankin finally stepped back and took in his creations, and he saw that they were beautiful beyond what he could have dreamed. And as he viewed them and basked in the afterglow of his power, he heard the voice of Maktub proclaiming to Slingid, and felt the power of Maktub tie Souls and energy into a cycle.

This was good, the god thought to himself as he stood to stare out on the city and the meeting of his brother gods making peace.

“There should always be order, always be a cycle. And so there is. From Life, to Death, to Undeath. Life draws from the energy fo those who came before, those who are here now die so that others can be born, and there Spirits rise back to the call if their stories are not finished.”

And as he spake these words, their was a call like a song throughout the land, and heard deep into the core of the afterlife. And all those Spirits of the Al-Atfall whose stories were Unfinished, who wished to return and whose identities were not shackled in eternal punishment did rise from their graves and resting places. There Spirits anchored once more to their physical forms. And as they rose, they knew who had raised them, but they were not his, nor did Kalvrankin wish them to be. But some did look, perchance, at the Orchard shining in the sun, and they left to see what new stories it may hold for them yet.

Create Minor Utility Bless/Curse artifact(Undead Orchard) 3 AP: This Orchard of once dead trees now stands adorned in precious metals, and pulses with necromantic energies. It grows Eggs of Gold, Silver, and Bronze, which hold as of yet untested power and potential. Life(Undeath 3/10)

Create Monsters(Skeletons) 1 AP: The residents of the Undead Orchard are skeletal versions of the local animals, cybernetica and other wildlife reanimated by the magic of Kalvrankin. They no longer eat, sleep, or consume resources much in anyway. They are not overtly aggressive and indeed will act according to there natures in life. Life(Undeath4/10)

Create Race(Undead/People of the Second Story) 2 AP: The Al-Atfall and Sligs that rose from their graves to pursue their Second story. These risen are not necassarily followers of Kalvrankin , in fact some are not and continue to follow their creator's. A few however have become intrigued by the forces that have given them a story all a-new. Life(Undeath 6/10)
12AP-3-2-1=6
7AP total remaining

Zelphas

2021-08-24, 03:13 PM

These Things Called "Mortal"

When a piece of its power did not return with the first Landeater, the thing in the depths was not overly concerned. It could still feel its power calling back to it, and so it knew that power would return. The fact that it had attached itself to some small, strange thing was of no great concern.

Then the thing the Calling's power attached itself to did something unexpected: it sent other things like it down into the depths before coming itself. That was... remarkable. The Calling wondered why it had done so; it had ignored the tiny, mobile bits of upper-stuff in the face of all the earth and air and water that still needed to be drawn downwards, but perhaps that had been a mistake.

One of the bigger things, the things that could understand and resist its call, did something to the little things, and now there was a piece of them that did not come to the depths with them. The Calling got their bits of material, crushed into tiny blots by the strength of its calling on the water, but that something else went... elsewhere. The Calling couldn't tell if that "elsewhere" was high or low; this was... new. How could something go elsewhere, but not travel perversely high or descend to its proper place? Something was missing in the Calling's understanding.

Another of the bigger things awoke, and this one rejected the Calling's urges strongly, even angrily. In its waking, it changed something so that some things could be blocked from the Calling's Task. That decided things. The Calling needed to know what these little things were, these things that could send others like them to the depths, that had two parts that separated when they were taken too deep, that now could make things that could hide them from its Call.

And so, the Calling made some to study for its own. It made them like the Landeaters, but not like them, for they served a different purpose. It made them able to ascend in life, but not to descend again until death; that was what damaged the little things, what made their parts split. To study it, the Calling needed them to die often. So, it made them long for the deeps (as was right), but forced them to ascend to live. And then, the Calling settled in its depths, and it listened.

2 AP

Create Race (Osedaxi) -2 AP: The Osedaxi (plural) mostly live seven to ten miles below sea level in the Beckoning Deep. At this level, they are Small-sized creatures that look like several thin, bright scarlet tendrils poking out of an irregular lump of purple-black bone. The tendrils can reach out to about three feet, and the lump of bone is roughly one foot in diameter. The higher an Oseda (singular) goes above the seven mile line, the more red tendrils unfurl from the bone, thickening and balooning outwards as the pressure lessens. At the top of the Beckoning Deep, Osedaxi look like skinned humanoids of Medium size (generally six to eight feet in height/length), with scarlet tendrils as thick as small tree branches twined around each other to make limbs and a pair of faintly glowing green-white eyes (no iris or pupil) appearing right next to the lump of bone. Somewhere between one hundreed feet and fifty feet below sea level, the lump of bone shatters outwards into a vaguely star-shaped mouth, revealing several sickly green-white, thin tendrils that function as tongues and can stretch out to about eight inches past the new mouth opening. An Oseda with its tendrils twined into limbs can no longer go under two miles below sea level without dying; an Oseda which breaks its bone-mouth casing can no longer breathe underwater (but can breathe air).
Oseda are scavengers who use their bone protrusions to drill into the bones of enormous sea creatures and suck out their bone marrow and the meat beneath crustacean carapaces. They age very slowly and breed quickly, so the lower reaches are often low on food. This forces the Oseda to send some of their number up to attack or entice large creatures into the Beckoning Deep, to feed their brethren before they succumb to the higher point of the sea themselves. Oseda are less buoyant than the water around them; when they die, they sink. (Domain Progression: Society (Thralldom) 2/10)

2 AP - 2 AP = 0 AP Remaining

Feathersnow

2021-08-24, 05:03 PM

Slingid

When the Sligs saw their strange new neighbors and their strange new gods, they were flabbergasted, but not angry. They understood that there was a misunderstanding, but it was revolved.

They began slowly engaging, trading their wooden handicrafts for goods from the Al-Kitab. They tried to learn the language of them, though their voices were raspy and spluttering to the humanoids.

But what truly mystified them was the appearance of their own god. He had legs of metal! And, soon after, metal appeared in the remade forest. And, they had seen, sometimes, it fell from the sky.

Kyryt cadre was tasked with learning the secrets of the substance. They were hampered by its rarity, for they dared not cut down one ofbthe god-touched trees. But eggs and leaves were fair to take, in moderation. And the few meteors they gathered were, they intuited, gifts from some unknown but benevolent hand.

Kyryt'Blatus was the first to realize that the substance would bend almost without limit when pounded with enough force, and the first to realize heat made it more malleable. His experiments with the gold eggs learned they were the softest and the most vulnerable to heat. Too much so, but even gold tools found uses.

The real step forward was when Kyryt cadre bashfully approached the Undead, having learned as much as they could on their own. They had been taught things by their maker, in some uncanny way, that it might have taken lifetimes to learn. And they were willing to share...

It took years of work, and much danger. Kyryt'Blatus himself was badly burned in an accident and did not live to see it. But, when the first three Queens born on land ventured out with volunteers from the cadres, newly fused to drones and ready to start new hives, they did so not on crude wooden litters, but sturdy palanquins with metal reinforced joins, and their retinues were bearing metal tools.

Elsewhere

Blatus, formerly of Kyryt cadre, remembered searing pain, then blackness. He awoke in a dark forest, with no legs and no tools. Alone and helpless!

A voice called back to him, and there was light again.

Remembered as the first metalworker and goldsmith in the hagiography of the Combine, Kyryt'Blatus died late in the winter before the first year of Jubilee. Queens never use their personal names except amongst themselves and they are never spoken aloud or recorded, only used on their psionic link. But the Founding Queen of the Hive of Blatusk named her city after a brother she never met and was always interested in the science of metal...

Blessing- hive reincarnation. 1AP
Spirits of dead Sligs will be reborn into their hive, if possible. Truly depraved individuals might be left in the Wending or reborn as short-lived sub-sapient drones, and the best of the best are reborn as queens, to join with She-Who-Is-Ever-A-Part instead of truly dying after that life.

1 Darkness(Forest) 2/10

Remaining AP 0

zzzzzzzz414

2021-08-24, 05:42 PM

IN THE DEEP PLACES OF THE EARTH, the one called Boiteag Dirt-Eater burrowed endlessly through the soil and rock, his unknowable lengths carving great tunnels through the earth. Yet his burrowing was without purpose, without direction, for the sap of OGAM ran through his veins, freeing him from the great burning purpose of survival that all other creatures of the earth must pursue. So, for lack of any other thing to pursue, he burrowed.

He had no need for or interest in the fruits of the world above, so he ignored them - until one day, he found he could not. He was burrowing very near the surface, around the roots of the one who was SAILLE, who was OGAM, and sensed something emanating from the land above. The Great Worm was familiar with vibrations from the surface world, but this was...different. Unusual. Life, but not Life like that which pulsed in the veins of OGAM. He moved closer, and found himself among roots of strange material - not the living stone, but of cold metal, animated by something otherworldly - trees-that-were-not-trees, pulsing with life-that-was-not-life, life-that-was-beyond-life. Something stirred then within Boiteag, something old and deep, and for the first time in his existence, he breached the surface, his pale flesh taking a single apple from the ground about the not-trees, and then dove once again - heading due east, to a place he remembered and did-not-remember. There, he found something alien yet familiar: a great tree, the life long since passed from its stone, its bare and twisted boughs wreathed with coral and barnacle. He found a large knot-hole in the trunk of the great tree, and placed the apple there. Before his eyes, the great dead wood stirred, and closed over the fruit, as long-mouldering Power seeped through the stone.

And for the first time in centuries, the drowned one known as IBAR, xer selfhood with OGAM long since withered and dead, began to grow once more.

Alter Land: The Corpse of IBAR (0AP; 1AP paid through Artifact use)

Located at the very bottom of the Muiribar Ocean between Piedwald, Abdita, Cartisia and the Northern Continent, the Corpse of IBAR, after being revived by the magic of one of Kalvrakin's golden fruits, is now an unusual being somewhere between tree and coral reef, roughly the size of a mountain and surrounded by a "forest" of twisted branches slowly but constantly growing in all directions. Xer long-blanched and stripped white wood is inlaid with veins of shimmering magical metal in dozens of colors, and the veins near xer center glow with pale, unearthly light, creating shimmering displays all around and upon xer as it plays off the metal.

The branches of IBAR pulse with powerful necromantic energy, fed by the massive reservoir of unused divine power at xer core. This energy attracts a wide and unusual variety of deep sea life - some of which have become strange, empowered, or even disconnected from the natural cycle of life and death, as a result of exposure to this magic. The magic is even powerful enough to slightly warp, twist and fray the fabric of the barrier between life and death itself - a twisting that leads to odd effects, and may have more drastic impacts if properly exploited.

MrAbdiel

2021-08-24, 11:07 PM

Atticus-Strikes-At-Mirrors could only watch with astonishment, and no small amount of fear. He and the other pale pilgrims had followed the Carnifex out here as their people grew sufficiently numerous that the Serpentways were insufficient to house then all. He had expected they would be led to a place to settle and begin a new tribe; but this…

He stood with Nazara-Trades-In-Flesh on the plateau of Noragande, the once largest mountain in the northern Abditan range. Now, it was simple a place of miraculous witness to the birth of a new mountain - a mountain that was no kin to the others.

It had ruptured from the blunt top of a squat, wide hillock too small to have been given a name of its own when more prestigious summits shadowed the sands. Black stone, steep and unnaturally regular, extended up from the desert far beyond the gradient and nature of any natural mountain. The conical extrusion split the earth, punched into the sky, and even now was grinding out the last dozen meters of its emancipation with ground quivering force. Atticus is could see something like writing scribed in gargantuan glyphs as tall as small mountains themselves on the side of the stone. He wondered if they were some manner of warning, or invitation to climb. A narrow staircase wrapped around and around the mountain in what must have been an astonishingly exhausting climb even with stairs divinely offered. The young Nechustan wiped his face with one trembling hand. What did it mean? Who was it for? And importantly…

“What does it say?” He asked Nezara. He tried to affect stoic calm, rather than fear; the alloy of effort and incapacity read as awestruck, which was appropriate enough.

He was right to ask. No mortal eyes untouched by divine grace could possibly interpret the glyphs. To the Carnifex however, the meaning was plain as day.

“It says ‘Come, let us reason together.’”

Alter Land (1AP - Reason (Diplomacy) 1/10)

The Black Peak of Reason

The Black Peak is located in Northern Abdita, plainly visible amidst the other mountains. By day, it is a cyclopean landmark that penetrates the horizon; by night, its black stone renders it a blank finger of sky with a golden, flashing tip. It is taller and narrower than any natural mountain could be, with very few imperfections in which eagles may roost, and hardscrabble cliff shrubs might grow. It does not accumulate snow, and water moves too quickly down its side to make anything resembling a river. The words "Come, Let Us Reason Together" are spelled out in four glyphs each of which is hundreds of meters high, comprehensible to gods and those individuals for whom a god might have a purpose to read those letters. Gods know about the mountain from the moment of its emergence, since it is a physical echo of a divine invitation to heavenly court thus far unconvened.

At its top - no less than eight days of stair climbing into air just thin enough that most species can still breath albeit with difficulty - the mountain features no true peak at all, plateauing off and becoming the foundation of a slate grey colonnade for a black marble rotunda known as the Apex, and the theoretically convention of divine appointees therein. The dome of the Apex is lined with golden tiles that shine with supernatural golden fire at night, providing a beacon by which those who dare to travel the sands after sunset may navigate. Below that structure, carved into the interior of the mountain's top, are a series of stone corridors and living spaces theoretically for delegations, monks, and divine flunkies of many kinds. Presently, the Apex is terribly understaffed by a group of Nechustani monks struggling to interpret and accommodate this sudden divine appointment.

Bless - Mortal Fertility on the Nechustani (0 Cost thanks to the Perdition Sluice)

The Nechustani are experiencing a significant demographic boom, prompting them to start new nomadic groups to wander Abdita far from their original home.

moonfly7

2021-08-25, 11:46 AM

The Book of Metal and Bone speaks of the first gathering of the Children of the Second Story, and the Lord of Buried Art's gifts to his creation.

They came in ones and two's over the course of weeks and months, perhaps even years. Some walked in with purpose and vigor, and others stumbling on shattered bones and misaligned sockets. Some came on feet made of full flesh and bone, not yet on their Second Story, and perhaps would never be, but instead were coming to grace his Hillock within their First.

Many came from Al-Kitab and the home of the Sligs simply to visit and marvel. Some struck conversation with those Undead and Living who had decided to make a home underneath the branches of the Orchard, and the Sligs specifically wished to acquire the leaves and eggs of the trees. These were happily provided, and tips on how to work said metals were given with smiles and grins. Many did not stay on the Hillock, and in truth Kalvrankin was glad that his home had not become too crowded. But now he had others to sit and eat with on the slowly regrowing grass(For those who ate, for those who did not, gathering at meal times were a habit and a tradition that they did not forsake.) and creatures not unlike him that marveled at the beautiful skeletons that walked the grove, and played and laughed among the trees.

And now too that his hiding was done, Kalvrankin could hear tales straight from the lips of others on nights when the air was crisp and the bonfire's warm. And he did enjoy the freedom to hear stories freely and cheerfully watch them unfold.

And all this reminded the Skeletal god that in his heart, he was a watcher, a reader. But in recent times had begun to play the Author, and he rather liked the feeling in some ways. But conversely he did not wish to alter the Stories of those before him more actively than he already had, he wished to observe as he once had. Not to sink into the unknown and watch from hidden points as he once had, no he found he would not forsake the stories at night or the company of others. But perhaps he would not meddle as much, and give those around him a chance to grow on their own.

The ancient skeleton of metal sighed internally and his rib cage rattled. Perhaps just one more interference? One more brush stroke on this beautiful canvas, and then he would see how the paint ran on it's own. And enjoy the rush of stories flowing once more.

And perhaps he would leave his hillock for a time, and venture forth, if only for a while. For he had felt the tug of something new blooming far away, not the feirce invasion that the Calling had been that the Bronze of his skull had repelled. No, it was a gentler pull. An invitation and not a demand, an invitation to meet and speak with others who shaped stories so greatly. Yes, one more work. Then he would see what other stories existed.

Yes. It was decided. He would give last gifts to those who had gathered at his Orchard, and then he would see if the other gods, Maktub and Slingid had felt this call. And then he would seek it out and learn the stories there.

“Gather round my freinds, undead and living alike!” He said jovially as he walked into the clearing in the grove from where he had been contemplating.
“I have things to teach, before I must journey. Things to teach, and responsibilities to set. Gifts are well and good, but the greater the gift the greater the burden it carries. And Undeath is a good gift indeed.”

And so those present did gather, and indeed many who had not been present did pour in to see what the god would bring. For his first gifts had been wonderous, and the story would no doubt benefit yet again from the variety he wrought.

First Kalvrankin did scoop from a tree a skeletal bird tending the eggs growing there, and he didgently present it to those gathered.

“"Undeath is a beautiful gift, a gift to be savored and shared! Oh yes, Shared! You are but the first to rise from the graves to pursue the Second Story. And there shall be others, and I will not always be here to offer them the experience. But then, forsooth! They would miss put on so much simply because of my limits! So I bestow upon those who wish it a blessing and a burden. A mission. Raise up those who wish to begin their Second Story, but let the bones of those who wish to stay in their death do so, to force a spirit is forbidden, to warp one the greatest sin.

And a second purpose, these Necromancers will serve, to bring an End to Second Stories. For truly a story is worthless if it never ends. For those Undead who have decided to End their tale and not return, Ye shall guide them to Death once more. And if there be those who cling greedily to Life in their Undeath, and abuse the gift they have been given, then so too must they be returned to death. So is the cycle, so is your duty."

And those present who felt the calling to follow his words, and the yearning to spread this gift, did step forward and learn from it's creators mouth the secrets of Necromancy, and accept the responsibilities there in. And they would be called Necromancers, and Spirit Guiders.

After teaching this, Kalvrankin did turn from those he had taught, and addressed the crowd once more.

“Long you have glanced wonderously upon bronze at it's great luster, and many have heard of the tale of it's inception and the magic it holds. Now it is time to teach you it's secrets. For there is Magic in the world my friends, all of it powerful. Some is good and righteous like the power of the Name, and other is dank and vile, like the mind warping fear of the Calling.

I will teach now, those who wish to learn it, a Magic which I hold most dear. I found it by mere accident, when I first bathed bronze in pure magic. I found that just as exposing heat to metal changes it's properties, so to does exposing it to Magic. This "True Temper" does more than just strengthen the metal like it's mundane brother, it brings the power and life of the metal into full view and use of all.

For Bronze it does provide powerful protection from warpings of the Spirit and the Mind. For Silver it doth Shine like the moon in darkness and provide a guide unto your path. Gold when True Tempered gives a burning heat of healing that can aid in the healing of wounds. Many more exist my friends, as many magics as there are metals in the earth. Copper doth Pulse like a mind and record that which it sees, and Tin obscures from prying eyes with but a thin sheet. And so many more that even I have not yet seen.

I give you the knowledge of True Temper, and with it the burden. Do not let this become a Magic of Pain and Ruin. Do not let Silver blind thy foes or Copper spy on thine neighbors, those who do so are corrupting a gift meant for creation, and they must be stopped wherever they are found. I have chosen you too spread this gift and use it wisely and safely. It is knowledge not to be hoarded but shared, so that Life and Unlife might improve from it.”

And with this speech he did teach them the craft, as much as he knew of it. And then stepping forth from those there he did engrave into a large stone on the hillock the Rules and Tenants he had spake, in flowing letters etched in bronze. And all who saw them new that they were good.

He did then step away from his Hillock for the first time since he had become known, and walked down peacefully, searching for the other deities he knew rescided in this land. Wondering if they too had felt the call. And perhaps he would follow the pull of the Necromantic energy, and against his better judgement see what lay beneath the waves that had called on his domain.

Create Mythic Subconcept(Magic(Necromancy))2AP: Necromancy is the art of creating Unlife by binding willing Spirits to there old bodies. Necromancy is not made to rip Spirits from Death without consent, and doing so, while not impossible, is difficult. As is using Necromancy to twist or warp spirits that have been brought back, as these actions are not it's intended use they are extremely difficult to pull off, but can be done. Necromanced creatures come back with the same ideal and personality as they had in life, unless they were personally changed by the experience of dying.Life(Undeath 7/10)

Create Mythic Subconcept(Magic(True Temper))2AP: True Tempering is the art of exposing metals to just the right amount of magic to bring out their natural magical effects. Just like tempering metals with heat, too much magic can ruin the Temper and force the Craftsmen to restart the process. To little leaves the abilities weaker and perhaps lacking the desired effects. True Tempering, just like Mundane tempering, Relies on the Tempering Colors (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tempering_(metallurgy)) to determine when the metal has reached it's peak magical saturation. Cultures without a knowledge of metalurgy can stil utilize and understand True Tempering.Magic(True Tempering 5/10)

Create Organization(Circle of Metal and Bone)1 AP: The Circle of Metal and Bone is a group of Undead and Living alike, born of the tenants given by Kalvrankin in the Undead Orchard on the appropriate uses and duties of those who practice True Tempering and Necromancy. This group works to spread the use and knowledge of these arts as well as the codes upon which they are built. And while worship of Kalvrankin is not a requirment for membership into this order of craftsmen, artists, and priests, there are few who have accepted it's tenants that aren't. Life(Undeath 9/10)

6-2-2-1

Total Remaining AP: 1

Red Lenses

2021-08-26, 08:12 AM

The Gluttonous Serpent

It occurred to Pythus that he had no real objective in mind for his defective marble adherents. He thus elected to fabricate something suitably simple for them. Pythus extracted more stone from the mountain and shaped it into an ornate palanquin. He teased out gold to gild it and the shining gems of the earth to further adorn it splendidly.

Now he would go about in an appropriately glorious style. Pythus seated himself on the plinth in the center of the palanquin and was carried off by his four adherents. The fifth, being somewhat extraneous, took the lead.

It was in this fashion that Pythus decided to take a census of the animal inhabitants of his little island. Perhaps among them, he would find something with a little more… Potential.

---

This was not an easy or especially quick task.

Every time Pythus sighted an animal he wished to inspect, he ordered the Fifth Adherent to fetch it and bring it over to him. This adherent was strong and tireless, but far from quick. Many large and ungainly animals were brought to Pythus (who found them wanting and released them soon after) but the smaller, flightier ones eluded close study. Birds, insects, and rodents were mercifully spared from his perceptions.

One evening, Pythus sighted a thrashing eagle, and directed the Fifth Adherent to bring it to him. The eagle immediately escaped the Adherent’s reach, leaving behind the bloated snake it had been in the process of mauling. The Fifth Adherent shrugged its stone shoulders and brought the snake to Pythus instead.

The bloated snake struggled weakly under Pythus’ gaze. It was bloated from its feast, five eggs were visibly lodged within it. The thing had been rendered so sluggish and large it was easy prey for the eagle, and easier prey for the Fifth Adherent.

Pythus had begun to suspect there was not much the beastial inhabitants of this place could do to earn his endearment. Yet there was something in this gluttonous, conspiratorial, wounded thing he delighted in.

The orb hummed with satisfaction. This one would do just fine. Pythus forced the serpent and others of its type into the shape of a man. These new creatures would possess what the adherents lacked: ingenuity, autonomy, thought, etc.

The first serpent-man stared up at Pythus and his loyal adherents, wild-eyed with fear, confusion, and possibly awe. Then it fled into the forest, shrieking in mad, primitive terror.

Pythus made a noise like a hammer striking an anvil, which meant, “Take me up to the mountain. I will observe them from there. We shall descend when they are good and ready.”

The adherents obliged.

Actions:

Race (Halessian) (2AP) Create Race - Halessians

Domain Progress:

05/10 - Art (Sculpture)
02/10 - Race (Halessian)

Remaining AP: 9/16

Kinro

2021-08-26, 05:28 PM

The conflict of the Titans was so great that it did not end when the Titans did themselves. It stayed on instead, a great injury, laid across time, calling to all those who would once be lost in more senseless conflict. And their spirits, or perhaps their memories, or perhaps something else entirely. Whatever that thing was, they inhabited the great injury and thus, they were one and that one was Valnas.

And thus it was Valnas looked upon the world and it saw the creatures that inhabited it and it knew that they would live and that they would find conflict and that they would suffer. And yet, Valnas was compelled still to place upon the world a creation of its own, one that would find no such delight, no such need for conflict. And so, from the ocean's floor, rose up a great land, and from the mountains of that land it carved the first of its new people. Great and towering, they were, so that none would dare assault them, and yet desiring of no harm for other being, as they fed only upon the plentiful plants of the land. And when they spoke, it was with the power of the mind, so that no conflict could arise from misunderstood meaning. And to them, it inculcated its values and shaped their society in a hierarchy, so that those below would always obey those above. In this way, it believed that it could ensure the welfare of all.

Starting: 16

Weave Plane (Valnas)

Valnas's first act was to create itself, a vast, seemingly unending plane containing the ruined remains of all conflicts, past and future, haunted by the voices of those who were lost in those conflicts.

16-3 = 13

Create Land (The-Land-Where-The-Sauropods-Live)

The-Land-Where-The-Sauropods-Live is a large, lush and humid landmass placed right in to tropical zone, full of large, fast-growing trees. It's contains mostly gentle slopes, except for one large mountain right in the centre of it.

13 - 2 = 11

Create Race (Sauropods)

https://i.pinimg.com/originals/f9/62/22/f96222da3d42b063b47ae37aaf245224.jpg

A race of massive beings, tall as mountains. They natively have the ability to 'speak' telepathically to each other.

13 - 5 = 6

Form Legendary Society (Sauropod Society)

Sauropods divide themselves into small, free-roaming tribes. Each tribe has one leader and one successor-namer. The leader is responsible to their whole tribe and all answer to them. The leader also appoints the successor-namer who will appoint the next leader when it becomes time. There is also one leader and successor-namer for the whole race, who in turn, answer to the word of Valnas itself.

6 - 4 = 2

Create mundane concept (Paternalism)

The idea that submitting to the rule of a well-intentioned authority figure is the best path to a fruitful life.

2 - 1 = 1

Breitheamh

2021-08-26, 06:37 PM

It is written...

The Story We Are Telling took form...

Al-Atfal trusted the story, and the forest would grow again. They set to their work, for now it was more than play. There is beauty in the story, even through pain, if you will only trust. And so they planted, they watered, and trusted that the beauty would grow.

And it will...

Give it time...

But for now, my son, I must ask you to think, and let it be written in your Soul and your Spirit. What is a Name?

"I am Who-Trusts-the-Highest-Tree. That is my Name."

A smile...

Tenderness...

Gentleness...

Unafraid... Yes, you are... Few would attempt to Name a power so far beyond their own...

"I am sorry. I did not trust the Story."

It is Written... Your trust was much deeper than you can see, for in that moment you Believed. You Believed that Slingid is what you would say, that the Sligs are what you would say. You did not trust the Story, but you Believed.

"I--I do not understand."

It is Written... you Who-Believes will be the first to Understand. Always Trust that the Story is Good, but Believe in the stories you will tell...

The Name thrummed in the cool of the day, settling onto the Spirit of Who-Believes, the boldest of Al-Atfal. And he felt a peace in his heart, at the Voice of the Story, whispered Words on his inmost being, Naming him that he now is.

Raise Hero 2 AP Life (Soul) (2/10)
Who-Believes is a True Name that recognizes and gives a power of boldness and conviction that can shape and write and change stories, for good or ill. As with all Names, it must be claimed by being Named. It is hard to say if the Story We Are Telling, What Has Been and Will Be, Maktub, Named Who-Believes first, or if the power of his belief Named him what he is, but ultimately, what is the difference? We must wait in eager for suspense for the stories to be written by the first to be this Name.

Is this story Good, my friend? the Voice whispers on the breeze, clearer than to other beings, as Kalvrankin went forth from his beautiful Orchard, made new with Undeath.

ezekielraiden

2021-08-26, 09:28 PM

Above the Deep, Beneath the Vault

The sun Kairos shone brightly down upon the First World, which itself turned and circled, creating an intricate but ever-returning interplay. In a way, a double symbol of Arkhos: the sun a golden disk, the year a golden circle. And just as the promise of spring always followed the shadow of winter, so did the promise of Arkhos follow those who weathered the storms of life.

Still, the Woven Oath knew there was yet more to do. Kairos may have done its task, but another, something dark and ominous, had cursed the world in its every part, seducing--no, coercing--souls to shun the light, to fear to rise up. This could not be borne. Yet until more could be known, until the designs of this unfathomed foreboding had been laid bare, Arkhos would not risk direct confrontation. The promise could no more bear a return to the chaos of the Titans than it could the situation at hand. Wisdom required patience, and discovery.

He instead turned his uncompromising gaze upon the lands raised up by his fellow deities. Some were already filled with creatures strange, others vast and near-empty. The earthen ring that circled the great storm's fury caught his attention. He saw the beauty and wisdom in the trees there, and what higher heights still they could reach when generosity and caution intermingled. Yet the children of the trees had already their creator, their guide. Where else to look, then, for those who could give, and keep, and nurture promises?

OGAM offered other lessons as well. The children of the trees, he realized, were raised up from the trees themselves: already did they rise higher than their forebears, striving further still. Arkhos could hardly do better than that example, with only the question of which creature to raise. In the north of the great ring Cartisia, an island spanned between two of the great salt-water rivers feeding the inner sea. On that island, trees that bore fruit and trees that bore nuts both grew, and many other trees besides, for it was lush and green, warm and well-watered by wandering storms split from the central squall. And among the trees and food, a certain kind of creature lived.

The Defiance to Rise

They were relatively small, these creatures, and covered in scales. Their eggs they laid in shallow shoals, hiding in the reeds or in grottoes dug or found. But, though they felt the pull of the deep unknown dragging them down, they did not listen, for if these little ones tried to heed it, many a predator would simply eat them. Indeed, many such predators there were, for even with survival in the balance, ever did a few animals of the shoreline follow that urge, and such heedless creatures were swallowed up as easy meals...or swallowed up by the yawning deep.

Instead, these little ones would climb. The trees, seeming unaffected by the urge, spread their leaves up high to receive of Kairos' light, and only among their leaves and branches could their fruit be found. So did the little scaled creatures climb the trees for food and shelter, descending only as needed to mate or travel. In this, they found Arkhos' love, for even though it was only in their animal instinct, still did they spurn temptation and struggle against the odds, rising higher. In them, Arkhos found his first children, not children of his creation, but children of his soul, and thus did he raise them up.

"From your humble beginnings did you climb up, to see the sun's light, to nourish and improve yourselves. Now I grant you the gifts of wisdom and strength, to climb yet higher. Rise up, children of my soul. I name you Quetzpal'in." They were tall, muscled, some bulky and others wiry, covered with scales in emerald and cerulean and peacock and pearl, some even with touches of gold, ruby, or amethyst at their extremities. Akin to their forebears, their eggs fared best in shallow saltwater pools, but could be raised elsewhere, and in particular welcomed the light of the sun. They could eat a great many things, but fish, fruit, nut, and tuber formed the foundation of their diet: the sea, the sky, and the earth.

Quickly, the Quetzpal'in began to organize themselves, both to make best use of the opportunity granted them, and to protect themselves from forces mundane and mysterious alike. Though they did fell trees with tools of stone and bone, they did so sparingly, for the trees had been their ladder to the heavens and the road that brought them to Arkhos' love. Often, their settlements formed within and around the forests themselves, twining threads of green all through their villages, with the greatest trees--those capable of supporting buildings--reserved for those of the highest station.

This would not be enough. Arkhos knew that, whatever the shape or desire of the deep unknown, there would be need for defense of home and hope alike. So he taught them, guided them, the ring of law that binds all together. In so doing, he bound himself more tightly to them, as well; no longer simply a ring of light, but a ring of words. They, too, bound themselves more tightly to him, naming him Dawnbringer, for Kairos was his first creation and their first guide. And when the time came for them to speak with one voice, that voice spoke the name they gave themselves: Temoanih Tonameyoh. Those who seek that which is full of light and clarity: the Lightseekers. But their task was not solely to reach out to the light. It was also to guard against the creeping dark, within and without. To stand against the darkness that would try to smother the light, and the temptation of surrender and oblivion.

It was the first step on the long journey.

Current AP: 13

Create Race (2 AP): the Quetzpal'in, semi-amphibious lizardfolk [Sun (Revelation) 4/10]
Create Racial Society (2 AP): Temoanih Tonameyoh, the Lightseekers [War (Tactics) 2/10]

Remaining AP: 13-4 = 9

Domain progress
Sun (Revelation) 4/10
Magic (Rites) 1/10
War (Tactics) 2/10

Durmatagno

2021-08-26, 11:31 PM

Rettia

Cold. Dark. Alone. Cold. Dark. Alone. That was all that echoed through the mind of the floating chunk of rock and ice that orbited the world below. Always it had been dark, always it had been cold, and always it had been alone. That was till something changed. A ripple around it. Something it couldn't quite identify. For the first time in it's life, it turned it's attention outward. There as much to see, much for it to find. It? No that didn't seem quite right. It's focus shifted, and it decided it didn't like this form it'd always taken. There was a ripple energy through it as the form it held shifted. It shifted rapidly, moving between hundred...thousands of possible forms changing so quickly most wouldn't process the various forms it moved through. Finally it settled on a pale skinned, fleshy form. No not it, not anymore. It...they couldn't quite put their...finger, that was it, finger on the idea. It floated there, hand pressed against it's chin in though. Struggling to find the word for a moment before flipping in glee as they found it. She. That was it, she was a she.

She twirled in the void, clothing flaring in the space around her. She could move! No longer was she bound to the planet below her. She flitted about, moving around the world quickly, not really looking at it, but more enjoying her ability to choose where to be. She finally stopped, high in the air above the young world below her. She snorted, it was all very...boring, at least from what she had seen so far. She looked above her, at where she used to float. It felt wrong, for nothing to be there. She raised her hands, energy rippling through them as...something began to form above the world. Large and magnificent. Rock and ice flowed to the point she was focusing on, slamming into each other violently, flinging molten rock and streams of melted ice not unlike a comet into the void around them as the thing she as making slowly formed.

Larger and larger it grew, one side frozen, glittering blue in the void where the light hit it. The other side was molten rock, angry and erupting high above the surface of the moon it was on. Between them was a great wall of black blasted rock and thick ice, a thin band where the things were tolerable though not comfortable for most squishy mortal things. She made her way up to the thing she had created, and landed on the cold frozen surface, looking down at the world below. This was much better, but not quite done. She skated across the surface of the ice as she thought, occasional geysers of water flinging up from the ocean beneath the surface of the moon. As she watched the water freeze in the void and fall back down to the moon, she had an idea. This place was missing two things, and she herself was missing one of her own.

She raised her hands, and at the far north of the moon, on the border between ice and fire, a great building rose from the surface of the moon. A spired palace made of twisting glowing rock, freezing ice, and flowing water. Thick bands of iron wrapped around it, red and blue gemstones hanging here and there. She flitted around inside the building, decorating it as her whims demanded. A great dining room carved from ice, yet warm to the touch. A ballroom with flows of molten rock dripping from the ceiling, but did not burn when touched. A bedroom, a throne, a library, a room filled with nothing but chairs of every shape, size, and material. She was having fun with this, but here was the kicker. The building itself was hollow, if you peered through any window or door besides the grand front gate, it as empty, cold, and lonely. It's front gate though, should you pass through it, led to the rooms inside, and looking out the windows you would see what seemed to be the moon, but was just an illusion woven over a private pocket built by and for her herself.

She flitted back out of the home she'd made for herself, and stared down at the finished moon she had made. She put her fist to chin once more, tumbling as she thought, uncaring of where she faced. A name, they both needed one, be it the moon or her herself. She chose the moon first, calling it Voicury, though she could not tell you why. But for her? That was much harder. She floated for a long time, or at least it felt like it, before snapping her fingers as she opened her mouth. She spoke for the first time in her existence, at least in her existence that she could remember.

"Rettia. I. Am. Rettia."

Rank - Demigod
Starting AP - 16

AP Actions

Create Voicury (Create Land) 2 AP - A vast moon of ice and rock, where one side glows blue and the other red. Cycles through full and new moon, but every month is a new side of the moon, creating "blue" and "red" months.

Create Rettia's Palace (Weave Plane) 3 AP - A mad palace and surrounding grounds that shows the utter chaos within Rettia's mind. Labyrinthian halls with seemingly random rooms. The further away from the center you get, the less often you find the rooms that have a sane purpose. There are even rooms for guests and servants, though all remain bare and unused.

Gateway to the Palace (Create Portal) 2 AP - The front gate of the massive palace found on the moon does not lead into the hollow, barren palace, but rather transports those that move through it to the world of Rettia's true palace. Every other entrance leads simply to barren, empty halls, a bare facsimile of the true palace in which Rettia resides.

AP Spent - 7
Final AP - 9

Domain Advancement - Fire (Magma) - 5/10 AP (Create Voicury (Create Land), Create Rettia's Palace (Weave Plane))

Gnomes2169

2021-08-27, 04:19 AM

The lightless days.
Mist was a natural phenomena. It appeared at times and faded in the light of day, and the mortals of the world had their own reactions to it, some superstitious, some uncaring, some completely unaware of its presence because of where they lived or their physiology. But it existed without the direct interference and influence of the gods. So it was somewhat obvious when that changed.

One day the mists rose, all throughout the world. Not just on the land beside lakes or in temperate places, but also in the seas (as in, under and over the waves), at the peaks of mountains, throughout the deserts. Anywhere sentient beings could be found a thick veil of vapor hung over everything, and the light of day did not burn it away. For four days it lingered, denying all laws of nature and mortal intervention, stagnant, unmoving. But the mist didn't do anything, despite how ominous it was and how some plants suffered with the reduction of light it didn't seem particularly dangerous.

Which is why the howl that heralded its disappearance might have been as surprising as it was. Even as the mists began to disappear in earnest the first signs of the beings that lived within them became known...

From the mist they came...
In the last hour of the world-wide mist, as the veil began to break apart, a hulking form strode through Piedwald. The beast was bipedal, long forelimbs scraping through the undergrowth in its passage, and a trail of frozen hoofprints formed beneath its feet. Its exact shape was difficult to make out, for it was always at least partially obscured, but the scent of rotting flesh and ice accompanied its presence. That and the voices that accompanied it were the only things that the mortals of Peidwald agreed on.

Whispers brittle with spite, laughter that chilled the bone, ephemeral songs, all of them flitting in and out around the monster. Wherever those voices were heard, the mists curled and swirled, barely-seen forms dancing throughout them and looking at the world itself. With an annoyed snort, the beast at their center threw back its head, revealing the shadowy, skull-like form, a maw filled with tusk-like fangs...

And then it howled.

The cry broke the mists of Piedwald and swirled it around the god's body, trashing it like the eye of a hurricane as the scream went on and on. In that eye, the beast's true form was easily seen. The blue-grey skin spotted with black rot. The pelts and carapace of mortals within the seas that hung loosely over too-thin arms and legs. The hollow, eyeless sockets of the overgrown and warped cervine skull. And, of course, the human-sized raven that finally flew down from the mists and landed upon the beast's horns, perching, looking small compared to her nightmarish steed.

With his other half's arrival, Tahr'Thua's cry faded, and the mists settled back around him, obscuring the god entirely as the mists drew in thicker and thicker... and then finally broke. A few of the reveling spirits that had surrounded him remained within the fading mists, straying from their domain for a scant few moments before they were inexorably recalled. Some blobs of mist moved to the edge of their vanishing domain, for a moment seeming like they would coalesce into a fully humanoid form, before the effort became too great and with frustrated howls they broke apart and joined the rapidly fading vapor.

When everything had returned to normal, all that was left of the entire event was a pair of frozen footprints and a pale, twisting hunting horn, from which a small swirl of mist poured.

... And then they were dragged back
When the mists faded on the First World, they deposited all of the beings within them on an entirely different realm. The sky was black, only the barest flicker of dying stars there to illuminate it, and the lands themselves were as barren. Only small mammals and hearty shrubs with taproots able to break the frozen soil grew here, and the land itself was broken and ragged. Barely illuminated cliffs, frozen lakes and towering glaciers dotted this bleak world.

The mist beings would be changed in this frigid realm, their bodies able to revert to flesh and blood as the vapor that formed them cooled enough for them to reach that state. These hunched, bald humanoids would gather together, whispering about what they had seen, some few clutching leaves, branches and stone that they had managed to drag to this realm with them. In their blue eyes burned hatred and their voices were laced with jealousy over what they had been denied.

"A world of such rampant bounty." Tahr'Thua whispered, the god's voice cutting through all conversation and drawing the attention of the mortals gathered about him. "And already they waste it. They take for granted its gifts and resources. We will punish that arrogance."

Gesturing to the billowing mists behind the congregation the god of Rot commanded, "Look to the mists, my huntsmen. There will come times when their communities are dragged here. Times when a horn sounds or a window opens and the bridge between worlds reestablished. This will be your opportunity. The time for you to claim what they waste, to take their creations and their sustenance, your time to revel in the destruction. Your time to find glory in the purpose for which you were made." The grinning skull head tilted to the side and the voice added, "Wait. Watch. And bring ruin."

A New Rule of the World
From that day forward, a new rule of the world was established. Where before the mists were a natural thing present some places and impossible in others, now they had been twisted by the will of a god. And that god was a cruel and dark thing.

It wasn't that all fog or mist was dangerous, but once in a while villages or caravans would just vanish in the white expanses, dragged from the face of the First world only to return frozen and in ruin, or with tales of a black and cold realm in which nightmares stalked. And whenever the Howler's Horn was blown, be it by mistake or the insane malice of one of Tahr'Thua's worshipers, the Faces in the Mist would come and death ruled the night.

Starting AP: 16

-3 AP; Weave plane - Hvittmaudh, the Nightmare Realm: (Pronounced Vit-Mauth) Hvittmaudh is a plane that rests at the edge of the Void, and on a multiversal map would spread between each of the other planes like a web or connective tissue. This plane is almost completely lightless, with only dim stars clustered around the points where it "contacts" the edges of other realms to illuminate the desolate lands of this reality. Geographically, the land is made of earth petrified with permafrost, spires of obsidian and basalt stones that were ripped from the earth shaped like a predator's teeth, cliff faces of granite worn down and carved out by slowly migrating glaciers, and lakes of frozen waters the size of inland seas and oceans.

The only mundane life that lives here is small and hearty. Mammals and flightless birds that are covered in thick fur and layered in fat, small black-leafed and thin shrubs that can absorb the meager light and possess thick taproots that can break the soil, fungus that spreads spores that can remain in stasis for decades until blood or plant matter that can serve as nutrients finally comes in contact with it, etc. This life is not the kind that becomes wide-spread, nor is it plentiful.

Storms and mist are a fact of life on this plane, with blizzards that paradoxically rain lightning and iron-heavy water upon the mortals who are unfortunate enough to find themselves within them. Any being trapped within this plane needs to be prepared for low visibility and storms that can tear down tents and break the rooves of wooden structures.

Because of how flat-out hostile this realm is, and how it seems to reach out and drag people into its deadly maw, beings from other planes often give it the moniker of "the Nightmare Realm."
Domain Progression: Fear (Nightmares) 3/10

-2 AP; Bridge plane - Hvittmaudh to First World: Hvittmaudh is bridged to the First World via some of the mists and fog that naturally occurs on the plane. These bridges are random, and are not present in every mist, but when they appear they are unnaturally cold and still, and they linger far longer than they normally would. These bridges also appear in places that should be impossible for them to form (such as underwater, in the heart of a volcano, or in the middle of a desert.)

Mortals can walk/ swim through these mists to reach Hvittmaudh, but normally are able to avoid the transition by simply staying in the general location they were when the mists appeared. Normally.

There is a hunting horn upon the First World that can create temporary bridges to Hvittmaudh, typically lasting 4-6 hours. When that horn is blown, the hunters of the Dauhem are assured to come through to the first world, and the blowing of this horn is often heralded as the "Call of the Wild Hunt."
Domain progression: Deception (Mists) 2/10

-1 AP; Curse - The Predatory Mists: There are times when the mists that bridge the realms to Hvittmaudh to the other planes are more than a passive bridge between the realms. Sometimes, when these mists surround a population center such as a village, town or caravan, they momentarily drag that location into Hvittmaudh. The peoples of this community are forced to contend with the dangers of the plane and its denizens for hours, days, sometimes even weeks, but after a seemingly random time they will be returned to the exact location that they came from. When this happens, the mists on the plane of origin will remain in place until the community's return, and then immediately sink into the earth once their trip to Hvittmaudh is done.

As a note, this curse applies to all bridges (and only bridges, so portals are safe) that lead to Hvittmaudh, regardless of which plane they are on.
Domain Progression: Fear (Nightmares) 4/10

-5 AP; Create legendary life - Andlitir (Ice fey): A race of humanoid beings that resemble bald, pure white elves with eyes formed of blue ice. Their bodies are magical constructs, mist condensed into solid flesh by frigid temperatures and pure willpower, and they can transition into half or full most form as they see fit. In Hvittmaudh this is somewhat difficult, as their bodies naturally default to their humanoid form due to the bitterly cold environment, while in the first world it is impossible for them to take their full humanoid form outside of polar tundras and the deepest, coldest and most lightless points in the oceans because of how warm it is. Thus, whenever they manifest on the First World, it is typically in the half- or full-mist form.

In their half- and full-mist forms they both generate mist and have fine control over how they can move through the world that is only limited by the edge of the mists around them. In a bridge to Hvittmaudh or a naturally misty/ foggy location, they can move as if physics and the laws of gravity did not apply to them, practically flying and ignoring fluid dynamics if they are underwater. While in a bridge to Hvittmaudh in particular, they also can ignore basic bodily functions, such as breathing or avoiding particularly high or low pressure zones, as long as they do not take a fully humanoid form.

Because of their elemental natures, Andlitir do not need to eat or sleep to survive. However, when Tahr'Thua formed them, the god gave these mortals hunger and the ability to feel exhaustion, meaning that these basic urges are still something that the Andlitir can feel even if they cannot die from them. Because of these intentionally engineered flaws, these beings are eager to go to the Frist World in order to grab resources and they understand mortal needs and desires better than a normal alien life form might... and they have built a deep and abiding resentment of the mortals on the First World because of how much luxury and bounty there is on the First World compared to their home of Hvittmaudh.

Andlitir can eat nearly anything as long as it's biological, and they are generally immune to natural poisons. This is because they don't actually need to eat, and whatever they consume is just turned into... aether or mana or some other cosmic force that hasn't been discovered yet. This immunity only is for ingested toxins, venoms and inhaled poisons are still effective against Andlitir in half-mist or fully humanoid form.

These beings are born naturally, from parents who do not leave their fully humanoid form until pregnancy comes to term, and they have a maximum lifespan of somewhere around 300 years.

Andlitir use the bridges in the Hvittmaudh in order to manifest on the First World, and typically cannot stay on the First World once the portals start to disappear, since in their half- or full-mist forms they are always drawn back into Hvittmaudh once a bridge closes. In the arctic circle of the world, where Andlitir can take fully humanoid form, they are able to avoid this problem without needing to find a way to adapt to an environment that will kill them once the mists disappear (like they would if they try to physically manifest underwater.)

An Andlitir that dies in a place where they are unable to take fully humanoid form will fade into nothing but water vapor. One that dies in a place where their humanoid form can be attained rapidly freezes into a block of solid ice, potentially trapping a weapon used to slay them within the corpse.
Domain Progression: Deception (Mists) 7/10

-4 AP; Create legendary society - Dauhem, the Faces in the Mist: A society of Andlitir that lives in Hvittmaudh, the Dauhem are a society of raiders that takes full advantage of the bridges to the other planes and of mortals unfortunate enough to be dragged to Hvittmaudh, taking resources, tools and food as they desire.

Being raiders, their communities are actually separated into smaller tribes, often tribes that are opposed to one another and competing for resources with their own laws, rituals and leaders, though every one of these villages has a warrior caste known as the Wild Huntsmen. These tribes wander the Hvittmaudh, looking for bridges to the First World to send their Huntsmen through or for prey that was dragged into their home plane by the Predatory Mists. These tribes are willing to fight one another for access to bridges or unfortunate communities, since the Hvittmaudh is large enough that such sightings are rare, sometimes this conflict allows their quarry to escape before it is resolved.
Domain Progression: Fear (Nightmares) 8/10

-1 AP; Create Organization - The Wild Huntsmen: Members of Dauhem who take part in the raids on the First World are formed from a warrior caste that is known as the Wild Huntsmen. These are the strongest, most eager members of the society, and huntsment are generally recruited from Andlitir just before they reach adulthood. Their purpose is simple, seize the resources that their community needs from the First World, often by force from the inhabitants there, and bring it back to the Dauhem in Hvittmaudh in order to satisfy the needs of the people there.

There is a streak of savage honor conditioned into members of this organization when it comes to raids on the First World. If offerings are left out during a "Wild Hunt," and no one in a community is outside to challenge the raiders, then the hunters do not break into homes or go seeking combat with the natives (though if some people remain outside, then those who are outside are considered "fair game.") Those who do not offer tribute are under no such protection, and the Wild Huntsmen will unleash all their savagery and hatred as they see fit.

Wild Huntsmen do not participate in attacks on communities dragged into Hvittmaudh. They exclusively raid the First World, and see any conflict between the tribes or on their home plane as something beneath them.

When the Horn is blown, all Wild Huntsmen from all the tribes of the Dauhem are called through that gate, and they arrive in one, unified, force that can threaten cities instead of just small villages and towns.
Domain Progression: War (Glory) 1/10

Total AP expended: 16

AP remaining: 0

Domain Progression:
Fear (Nightmares) 8/10
Deception (Mists) 7/10
War (Glory) 1/10

moonfly7

2021-08-27, 10:03 AM

Is this story Good, my friend? the Voice whispers on the breeze, clearer than to other beings, as Kalvrankin went forth from his beautiful Orchard, made new with Undeath.

The metal skeleton pauses in his pace and looks out at the flowing winds and warm sun, his faceless skull seems stuck in frustrated perplexion

"I think it is good, Story We Are Telling. I want to believe that this story that I have interrupted is still good."

The Lord of Undeath wipes a hand across his brow and then throws both arms up to the winds that carry the voice of Maktub over the planes.

"But then I fear I have gone to far, wrought too much change. Look at the Orchard, it is a beautiful place teeming with happiness, but to make this happiness I have gone against nature. Believe as I may that Undeath is the next step in the cycle, I feel another push against me with righteous anger. I feel the call now, for us all to meet. And as I walk I ask myself: have I meddled to far? Have my gifts and teachings improved the lives of those who wish to sit and listen to them? Or have I condemned them to a story not their own?"

moonfly7

2021-08-27, 10:39 AM

And in the time of waiting, when the teacher and maker did walk far from the eyes of his Followers, when the mists first descended upon the world in terrible glory, The Circle of Bronze and Bone did begin to take shape. And one did stoke a fire, and set alite something new in the creation of Kalvrankin. For before they had been guided solely by their lords kindness and generousity, but in the flames were they reminded that metal, that shines so prettily,is also hard and cold. And risen bones are not so easily broken.

On the day mists coalesced over the world, those living in the orchard were perplexed in beautiful wonder by the strange, hanging clouds that rested in their midst for so long. And then when the cries came and the strange spirits flew off, and the horn dropped to the earth, they did wonder and discuss quite jovially what it might be, and if, perchance, they could meet these new folks?

But one did not join in her brothers and sisters revelery and awe, one did not discuss what these people might be or wonder how they might be met. One had always been suspiscious of new things, and one felt in her bones the same fear and distrust that long ago Kalvrankin himself had felt of the Deep.

One was an Al-Atfal, called then Tajir Dahiatan. Tajir had been the first and only resident of the Orchard to speak to the Sligs when they first came to seek metal. The others had been content to simply provide it at no cost, but Tajir was a practical woman, and a masterful haggler. It was Tajir who proposed the equal trade of knoweledge and resources that the Sligs and the Orchard carried on to this day, and Tajir who took it upon herself to oversee the harvest, and catalog what was taken and what was recieved.

When he had been present, Kalvrankin often would chuckle at her actions and gently chastise her.

“Calm, my friend. You worry too much.”

This did little for Tajir, because although she was fascinated by the works of this strange god, and indeed had come to the orchard to hear his teachings even though she still lived, she did not buy into his philosophy, nor did she appreciate his demeanor. A god was meant to be distant and subtly guiding, given respect and proper deferrence. Even the Sligs, whose god watched them as the Parrot did not sup and joke with their deity like an old friend.

When Kalvrankin(For she would never call him "Kal", a nickname did not suit a god of powerful works.) taught the people his arts and left them with rules, Tajir was pleased. Rules to follow and duties to perform, finally, there teacher was acting like a proper god. But after he left the Orchard, she found nothing had changed. The others were content to sit and relax, to just, enjoy the hot sun and blowing winds? They had been given Duty and duty would be done. It did not matter if Kalvrankin would have approved of the waiting, she would not. She would learn and craft and further what they had been given.

And in this way the Circle of Bronze and bone was shocked. For after the mists came and left, it was like the fire in Tajir had been razed three time higher, the old texts do not quite say why, but perhaps she sensed what was to come from this change. Or perhaps her innate suspscions and paranoia simply came in good use.

Whatever the case, the day after the magics of the mists did leave, Tajir began to build. A forge was errected in the center of the Orchard, and hammer blows did ring in the square. And as the weeks past, Tajir could be found at the center of the grove, working the forge, melting metals, experimenting with True Temper, and studying the trees and their magic. She muttered this and that, and did seem to the others to be quite strange, wasting good days on this constant study and work.

But Tajir had a purpose, and Tajir had a goal, and Tajir had lofty aspirations, far above even what Kalvrankin might seek. And soon the world would learn that though it is rare, sometimes Mortals can teach the gods.

Breitheamh

2021-08-27, 10:41 AM

The metal skeleton pauses in his pace and looks out at the flowing winds and warm sun, his faceless skull seems stuck in frustrated perplexion

"I think it is good, Story We Are Telling. I want to believe that this story that I have interrupted is still good."

The Lord of Undeath wipes a hand across his brow and then throws both arms up to the winds that carry the voice of Maktub over the planes.

"But then I fear I have gone to far, wrought too much change. Look at the Orchard, it is a beautiful place teeming with happiness, but to make this happiness I have gone against nature. Believe as I may that Undeath is the next step in the cycle, I feel another push against me with righteous anger. I feel the call now, for us all to meet. And as I walk I ask myself: have I meddled to far? Have my gifts and teachings improved the lives of those who wish to sit and listen to them? Or have I condemned them to a story not their own?"

Inspiration laughs as a clear breeze in the heat of the day, and a twinkle as distant warmth in the cold of night. Hopeful and full. That is why we Trust, and we Believe.

The wind rustles through the trees, softly chiming the metallic eggs of the orchard. These are Beautiful...

A gentle warmth lifts up from underneath the fledgling deity. The Story We Are Telling is Good. Nothing can change that.

moonfly7

2021-08-27, 01:44 PM

Inspiration laughs as a clear breeze in the heat of the day, and a twinkle as distant warmth in the cold of night. Hopeful and full. That is why we Trust, and we Believe.

The wind rustles through the trees, softly chiming the metallic eggs of the orchard. These are Beautiful...

A gentle warmth lifts up from underneath the fledgling deity. The Story We Are Telling is Good. Nothing can change that.

“I hope you are right my friend.” kalvrankin sighs “No. I know you are right. You know more of the Story than I ever could. And if my raising of your children had causes you strife you would have made it known. I just-”
He stops walking again and looks at the world around him. He chuckles slightly.

“There is this girl among the others at the orchard. Just out of her youth and into adulthood. She often questions if this is how a god should act. Eating and laughing and being so close to those who would follow him. Some days I fear she's right, that perhaps it's not there story I ruin, but my own”

Then he looks out at the plains and smiles with his open jaw, metal teeth shining in his bronze mouth.
“But you are right, Maktub. I cannot ruin the story. No one can. But I think it's time I start asking myself what that story is going to be. And that starts at this meeting, practically the world away. Care to join me on a jaunt, my friend?”

Breitheamh

2021-08-27, 02:09 PM

“I hope you are right my friend.” kalvrankin sighs “No. I know you are right. You know more of the Story than I ever could. And if my raising of your children had causes you strife you would have made it known. I just-”
He stops walking again and looks at the world around him. He chuckles slightly.

“There is this girl among the others at the orchard. Just out of her youth and into adulthood. She often questions if this is how a god should act. Eating and laughing and being so close to those who would follow him. Some days I fear she's right, that perhaps it's not there story I ruin, but my own”

Then he looks out at the plains and smiles with his open jaw, metal teeth shining in his bronze mouth.
“But you are right, Maktub. I cannot ruin the story. No one can. But I think it's time I start asking myself what that story is going to be. And that starts at this meeting, practically the world away. Care to join me on a jaunt, my friend?”

The breeze suddenly gusted, gently pulling Kalvrankin to the east, toward the call of the Black Peak of Reason. The Story is always where someone may Share.

In fact, there is one I hope will be there. I would like to learn his perspective on a meeting that...

The wind swirled into a gentle form as the Word formed, FEELS this Significant.

The nondescript Atfal at Kalvrankin's side now smiled at their friend, eyes brimming with the Hope of what lies ahead. "I would very much care to join you on a jaunt, my friend."

moonfly7

2021-08-27, 07:55 PM

The breeze suddenly gusted, gently pulling Kalvrankin to the east, toward the call of the Black Peak of Reason. The Story is always where someone may Share.

In fact, there is one I hope will be there. I would like to learn his perspective on a meeting that...

The wind swirled into a gentle form as the Word formed, FEELS this Significant.

The nondescript Atfal at Kalvrankin's side now smiled at their friend, eyes brimming with the Hope of what lies ahead. "I would very much care to join you on a jaunt, my friend."

"Excellent!" He said with a clank as he clapped his hands.
"Too new adventures, and Good friends!"
----------------
While Maktub and Kalvrankin joined for their journey, the people of the orchard joined together for there first ceremony. They had chosen this day for their festival, because today was a very important anniversary. Months before Kalvrankin had off handedly mentioned that the anniversary of the day that he first clawed his way to the surface was coming.

And as the story spread like wild fire, a unanimous descision was reached. Today, on the anniversary of their gods rise and the invention of Bronze, the circle of Bronze and Bone would hold a festival atop the orchards hill. They gathered together to write songs and share tales of their benefactor. Their would be the presenting of beautiful works of metal art, and the raising of the dead brought to the orchard.

Even Tajir participated, laughing and eating with her brothers and sisters, finally giving their god the respect his position deserved. Their works that day were many and beautiful, and their communal devotion to their work and code did move the necromanced trees infused with a fraction of Kals divinity to action.

And that day works of Bronze made by their hands was blessed to never tarnish or break, to always reform and regrow so as to fill the world with art and ingenuity for eons to come.

And as Kalvrankin, though so far away, felt the power flow out, he smiled. For it was a good and just gift to his great and noble artists and inventors.

Back at the orchard, the Children of the Second Story felt the power flow out, and their magic confirmed the blessing. Hats were thrown and cups flunked as creative minds discussed the artistic uses of regenerative bronze.

Sitting her, mind wirring, Tajir also looked on at the potential of bronze that always reformed and never tarnished. But as always, her thoughts were far from the intentions of her god.

Bless(Perfect Bronze Smiths, 1 AP, cost 0 by Undead Orchard): blessed to work with Kalvrankins holy metal, all bronze worked by his followers never tarnish and always heal any damages. This blessing was meant to preserve their artwork for all time, a token to the beauty they wrought in his name.

ezekielraiden

2021-08-28, 02:04 AM

The Loom of Light

Beneath the watchful gaze of Kairos, the Quetzpal'in developed and flourished. With tools of stone, they built their villages, even laying the ground work for larger settlements. Buildings of wood, and structures building around the living trees themselves. Early steps, but encouraging. They did struggle at times, but their struggles heartened them, and made clear the need for effort and discipline. Even the disturbing twisting of the mists, with their unpredictable disruptions, proved only a small hindrance overall--and yet further tempered their wills.

Yet Arkhos was not entirely satisfied. His children were readily taking to the physical light, their first guide. But there was another light, the light within, that might be neglected if he did not act. That light, through intent and effort, could bring about undreamed potential, if only it were given discipline, specificity, focus.

Then, another deity acted, creating the two-faced moon in ice and fire, and Arkhos considered. Ice could be beautiful, could turn the path of light, but it was so fragile--all but the gentlest kiss of Kairos' light could eat it away until nothing was left. That would not do. Something was needed that could draw many strands of light together without weathering, that could embrace the light within and bring it to bear even in the heat of the moment. Nothing on the surface of the First World would do. So he looked deeper, knowing that the unknown deep remained. It was a risk worth taking.

He chanced--for chance ever favors the bold--upon a rock hidden deep within the mountains of Cartisia, nearly clear, if slightly imperfect. He took only a small piece, at least as a god would see it, and brought it to Kairos. Under the harsh rays, the impurities and inclusions burned away, and the circle of light carved and shaped its surface. A disk, to both be surrounded by the ring of law and become the loom of light: to both gird focused potential with discipline, and to weave potential into practice. The tool had many names--Arkhos' Eye, Sunneedle, the First Lens--but Loom of Light became the one most well-known.

With that loom did Arkhos weave another tool, stitched from magic and thought. Part canvas, part tome: the ever-full Codex Perpetuus. A tool to expand the horizons of his children, by magic, from which no end of inspiration might be drawn. For the first lesson, the art of drawing stone from the earth, shaping it, and building it into structures as strong as the mountains themselves. The way to raise pyramids and temples and storehouses that would stand until the end of the age.

The People of the Sun

At first, the wisdom taken from the Codex Perpetuus was difficult to implement. The Quetzpal'in were used to wood and tree, things that could be bent, that were easily carried. The bones of the earth were so unlike these familiar materials, unyielding and so unwilling to budge. Their first efforts were small things, barely more than stone huts. But with time, they learned more--the secrets of pyramid and arch, column and vault--and how to find, move, and place the stones. Their great work, which came only after many long years of effort, was the Pyramid of the Sun, their temple to Arkhos, designed so that at any time Kairos looked down upon the land, at least the central altar should always be lit, no matter how faintly. The surrounding land on their island-home of Anahuac became the center of Temoanih Tonameyoh culture, and many a clutch hatched in stone-wrought saltwater pools around the Pyramid's base.

Current AP: 9

Create Greater Utility Artifact, discounting Greater Utility Artifact (5 AP): the Loom of Light [Magic (Rites) 6/10]
Create Greater Utility Artifact, discounting Create Mundane Concept (4 AP, discounted): the Codex Perpetuus [Magic (Rites) 10/10]
Create Mundane Concept (free, discounted): Masonry

Remaining AP: 9-9=0

Domain acquired: Magic (Rites)

In-progress domains:
Sun (Revelation) 4/10
War (Tactics) 2/10

Razade

2021-08-28, 03:39 AM

The Tribal Kittess: A Treatise by Awwe Darnthasqute

While their civilization has long faded into antiquity upon Ardanah, much can be said of the Kittess and their early start as a tribal society within the Sunstone Isles.

The Kittess: A Little People

The Kittess of antiquity by our estimations were not much taller than the roving Travelers are now. Their simple dwellings were made of thatch though like most industry the Kittess seemed not to take to extensive building projects. In truth much of the early pottery, musical instruments and food cast offs were found in the copious mountain caverns found on their native islands. Perhaps owing to their size simple tool use was likewise uncommon, mana residues leads one to believe that for much of their history the Kittess supplemented their natural lack of strength and size with potent magics. The various inactive portals across the Isles are not much older than these cavern dwelling Kittess and while the Sunstone batteries have long since been looted, it is clear that these primitive tribal peoples had a deep understanding of the magical arts.

Social Structure

The Travelers of present say that they are the oldest existing culture from Ardanah, their social structure having gone unchanged since they first walked out from their Isles so we will do our best to make extrapolations off current models though we are dubious of their claims. Modern Travelers form around a single Matron, the eldest female in their troop who acts as the planner, organizer and secular head of her people. This Matron is attended to by a number of adult males all of whom seem to act as advisors to her directly and the main disseminates of information to the rest of the Traveler Conclave. These males are typically quite powerful in the ways of magic and other arts, often having specialties and focuses. All young adult members, both male and female, preform the day to day tasks for their group be it crafting or preparing food or any other odd jobs. Many Kittess even in this range seem to have a grasp for magic. The elderly are left within their makeshift homes and tend to the kits, teaching and caring for their upbringing until they are ready to join the ranks of adulthood.

The Kittess seem to have no particular rites or rituals to when a kit becomes an adult or at least not that they'll share with us and it seems this has been practiced since their tribal days. There is evidence within their makeshift homes that some rituals and religious observances were carried out however. Feeding time seems to have been a particularly social event, massive plates by their standards serving as focal points of their communities. Even today the Kittess seem to practice something similar. Food is shared by all, regardless of who hunted and it is the Matron that makes sure that all members of her Conclave are fed. The eldery and the young are given food first, followed by the Matron's male advisers then the rest of the Conclave and then finally the Matron. The Matron's main task in these ancient times seems to have actually been cooking, hence the need for active, powerful males to be her mouth, ears and eyes.

Kittess cooking in these early days seem to be just as simple as their house and boat building. All know the Kittess's love for meat and the many burned bones found in the refuse piles attest that even these primitive folks consumed a vast quantity of other animals. Fish and other marine creatures seem to have held a special place in the early Kittess culture as fish, whale and shark bones and teeth seem to have accounted for a very primitive monetary system between the spread out tribes. Fish bones and simple linens have also been found in the driest and most remote caves leading us to believe that the bones of animals were used in place of metals for things such as clasps and nails. Salt is also a major find in Kittess Tribal sites, seeming to be their primary seasoning and method of preserving food. Pools of highly salinated waters can still be found in the caverns of Kittess dwelling sites leading us to believe that at some point they had mastered the art of farming salt. The Kittess seem to have supplemented their diet with foraged plants though they lacked agriculture, nor had they need of it, or advanced crop growth. The plants that they seemed to pick for their diets are found all across their islands and have proven hardy enough that we believe that the many plants and medical herbs they carry with them even to this day are ancient, planar, offshoots of these ancient plants.

Kittess: Cults and Worship

The Kittess's practice of worship in these days allude us. There was clearly a desperate, deep seated, desire to leave Ardanah such that they constructed vast magical portals to the Planes beyond though what that reason has either been forgotten by their modern kin or...more likely...not something they wish to share. The religious practices of the modern Kittess are likewise unhelpful, the catfolk seeming altogether unconcerned with the going on of Gods. We attribute this to their long habitation in the very realms of these powerful beings. No sites found on the Sunstone Isles have provided insights into what their ancient religion might have been. No burial sites remain, those few bodies that have been found have mostly been the result of accidents or...more chillingly...foul play.

Two symbols however lead us to believe that the Kittess had, or continues to have, some level of spiritual belief. On the bottom of each Portal is engraved four wavey lines. At the top, a circle with jagged arms radiating off its surface. While the first symbol eludes us still the top seems to be a crude representation of a hurricane. How these ancient peoples knew such a shape to the mighty storms said to come from The Deluge itself perplexes us but evidence points to a cult of storm worshiping Kittess. If we could only activate these portals perhaps we could know where their travels led them. Perhaps however...perhaps that is knowledge we do not want after all.

MrAbdiel

2021-08-28, 03:44 AM

The Threefold Tragedy

As the Nechustani had flourished within their caverns, their numbers created strife, and internal conflicts between family tribes. With no unified society to speak of, they were fated to unpleasant frictions so long as their fecundity exceeded their holdings. So it was that the first Nechustani expansion - called by them the Threefold Tragedy - came to pass, and three grand caravans of Nechustani set out to find and settle new lands. Each travelled east and founded a community and strove to establish themselves in the world, and took on distinct tribal identities. Nechustani-Nairo was established in the great golden discern to the southeast; Nechustani-Kedash along the cost at the north east, toward the Black Peak of reason; and Nechustani-Hadar in the fertile lands near to the great boughs of Fearnmag itself.

Nairo, Kedash, and Hadar are bywords in their tongue, now; dread curses to hang on those who have earned only hate.

The Tragedy of Nechustani-Nairo

Leadora-Grasps-A-Dream stood on dune’s tip, the sand crowded with hardy spinifex grasses; Leadora herself with a crown of woven leather on her brow. The daylight began warping into gloaming, and the heat of day was bleeding away - but she was warmed not by sunlight, but thrill. Surging around the dune’s base and out into the gentle rolls of golden sand were her people; the fighters of Nechustani-Nairo, in a host of eighty four tribes and six brotherhoods. Ten thousand sets of sandals stirred the settled sands; ten thousand sets of stone knives, wooden staves and bone clubs filled ten thousand sets of hands. Her people were numerous, and in those numbers there was great hunger. They had driven deeper into the land of the native Venuxi to poach their game and feed the engine of their ascension. There had been clashes, and blood spilled by the black and orange chitin monsters of the plains; but that had only driven the reluctant elements into Leadora’s host. In their great numbers, there was also strength; and laying a kiss on her obsidian knife’s flat, she praised Arah-Huana, and wondered if there had ever been a host assembled so mighty.

Here, in these dunes, she was certain they had found the primary hive. The creatures had assembled for a noble defense - as if they were capable of nobility - of their own primitive camp, grievously outnumbered by the Nechustani invaders flooding across the sand. This is it, she told herself. This is where I grasp the dream.

“Leave none alive! Let the night-pyre of their bodies rise so high to scorch the feet of the gods!”

Leadora-Grasps-A-Dream roared her encouragement, but it was hardly needed. The fighters were committed; and everyone one of them could see that numbers alone were enough to conclude the matter altogether. And not one of them considered how the rolling dunes obscured so much from sight; or how cooly the defenders held their ground against their threat; or even dared to imagine that there may be no night-pyre coming at all.

Feathersnow

2021-08-28, 01:11 PM

Slingid

And so it came to pass that the first three queens born on land fused with a drone and went out to start hives of their own, assisted each by a dozen of the most competent workers...

Each worker had the best gear the hive could provide. A hatchet not of stone but bronze, traded at great cost from the undead keepers of the sacred orchard of Kalvrankin. Their legs were not crude crutches, but elaborate, articulated masterpieces of carpentry, personally enchanted by the Queen, for she was the greatest wizard among the Sligs.

The three Queens went forth on litters no less well crafted, with gilded designs belying sturdy construction incorporating metal augmentation of the sturdy hardwood. It was the great spectacle in Slig history thus far, and their was a festival that lasted five days, in which Slingid himself was in attendance, as were guests from the Al-Kitab and Undead. Even a Kumiho was there, it was said.

Afterwards, the new hives started out. Each built longhouses to shield the first of their inhabitants, and each began to start the work of raising food. Blatusk Nest, where the ground was rocky, specialized in raising abmundial livestock, assisted by their slogs. Thiplisk Nest, who settled in hills, began coaxing the Borametz to adopt their tree form early, creating a population boom of birds, leading to a surfeit of eggs and meat. Glimblisk Nest settled in the deep forest, and planted the seeds of fast growing plants and scattered live remains of aur kelp in the ashes of controlled burns, finding a way to maximize the fertility of a small area fir a short time after the trees there were harvested.

And... for a while, things were idyllic in the land of the Sligs...

Elsewhere- Ursliga

Shallow water and beaches of the first world are often visited by a creature that resembles a Slig. The facial tentacles and fingers are webbed, and the vestigial lower limbs are grown into flukes, however. They also, though intelligent for animals, lack the power of speech. They are primarily aquatic, but can survive beached for several hours.

These creatures travel in pods of many small, sterile hunters to one fertile female. Males are tiny and short-lived, attaching themselves permanently to the female at adolescence in the manner of parasites.

Ursliga, as they are known, are predators that hunt co-operatively and bring food back to their Alpha. Various species have attempted to domesticate them, with varying success. The Sligs, however, have not, owing to their superstitious dread of water and deep places, and the preternatural urge to fling themselves down that accompanies such locations.

Create mundane concept- Pastoralism 1AP
Sligs have learned to raise animals for food.
Society (pioneering) 3/10

Create mundane concept- Borametzenkultur (artifact use)
Sligs have learned to intentionally control the life cycles of plantimals to their benefit, in a parallel to conventional agriculture.

Created advanced subconcept- Swidden (subconcept of forestry) 1AP

Sligs have learned that planting certain crops such as mangoes and air-kelp immediately after a controlled burn in their subtropical region can maximize agricultural yields without unduly effecting the forest's ability to grow back.

Darkness (forest) 3/10

Create monstrous sublife- Ursliga (monstrous, aquatic form of Sligs) 1AP
These creatures are aquatic, seal-like creatures of approximately canine intelligence that live in shallow oceans in packs centered around a central queen. They lack any magical powers and can be tamed, though the Sligs are unlikely to try it any time soon.

Society (pioneering) 4/10

Breitheamh

2021-08-28, 08:33 PM

It is written...

Who-Believes stood at the shore of the great lake of Piedwald, attempting once again to understand that mysterious island across the water. It was too far to swim, but he Believed there was something there to be found. A beauty, a thrumming of life somehow different than what was known thus far. And he Believed he would reach it.

The bold Atfal placed his foot on the water, staring at his destination...

He took his second step, his foot staying still on the surface for single encouraging moment...

And then he splashed in, his toes curling around the smooth stones of the gently lapping shore in the cool, crystal water.

He picked up a stone and skipped it, letting the Story of it's bouncing on otherwise un-solid surface remind him of simpler days...

Simpler...

Was it so hard?

It was Simple, wasn't it?

The Wind whispered through his hair, the Breath of Inspiration rising to his lips, as he closed his eyes and drank in the Truth...

He would walk to his destination.

And he took a step, allowing himself to see the island only in his mind's eye, to ignore the liquid water, and only see what would bring him to his destination.

He took his second step, his eyes still closed, still breathing the Voice of the Story from his own Breath.

A third step, and he did not sink.

A fourth...

He just kept walking toward his destination...

One step...

After another...

And another...

Until he felt the soft earth loam between his toes that meant he was on solid ground again.

He opened his eyes, to take in his surroundings, only to find that he did not see as he once did...

He waved his hands in front of his eyes, but only felt their movement. He knew they were there, but it was as if he was looking straight through them. He looked up at the trees, and saw what he had pictured in his mind's eye; the network of energy connecting each living and non-living thing in the world. He was part of it, but separate, as all things are... one, yet not one.

He laughed, the sound clear as the chimes of the Orchard in the Wind.

He could see with eyes that did not see...

And He-Believed.

Create Minor Utility Artifact (Eyes of Faith) Life (Soul) 5/10
Eyes of Faith are not so much a physical object as they are a way of understanding the world that one Who-Believes lives with that sets them apart from others and helps make them what they are. They can be used to Bless/Curse.

Bless using Minor Utility Artifact (Eyes of Faith); Who-Believes may, given enough time, travel to anywhere in the First World without risk of natural disaster or tragedy. The water seems to solidify under their feet, or they happen to walk along an unseen sandbar, or an animal of the water allows them to ride.
They find pockets of calm air in storms, somehow always find shelter from sandstorms, even the wind itself may pick up just enough to allow them to be lifted up.

KragBrightscale

2021-08-29, 10:55 PM

A way to overcome stagnation

For generations, Rekexi had been confined to their islands and surrounding shallow waters. The only thing keeping them from becoming overpopulated and facing a food crisis was the constant warring that happened every other generation.

Chixichi the current Empress had crushed all those who competes with her for the throne. Her hard carapace, a rarely seen coloration, was a translucent crystalline blue. Her appearance alone had been enough to propel her to the forefront of leader candidates on her island. That was several years of hard warfare ago.

Rarely seen divergents were considered to be destined for greatness, but the arrogant gold Rekexi who had been favored to be the final victor in the succession battle was crushed pathetically like any of the others. Bearing the coloration of a previous emperor or empress did not guarantee the presence of strategic brilliance or martial prowess.

At 16 years of age, the empress was considered to be middle aged. The realm was at peace as everyone had wholeheartedly been convinced of her right to rule. According to the history recorded on the ancient scroll-clams, this would be the time when the Krillix empire prospered, but also a time of gradual decline.

Time would go by and her military forces would gradually succumbed to old age and retirement, as young and ambitious officials would start grooming the next generation of potential leaders. They would have no chance to rule personally, but raising the future emperor would be a most honorable accomplishment. Factions would form, and the unity Chixichi had fought for would crumble in front of her as she grew to weak to do anything about it.

A most unsatisfactory future, the Saphire empress grumbled to herself. She needed to find new territories, an external threat, something to maintain the fragile unity, and establish a legacy beyond a mere repeat of history.

Leaving the safety of the shallows was, however not something to attempt lightly. Many an emperor or empress had started expeditions, only to be forced back with heavy losses by the oversized sea monsters. The clams had recorded descriptions and even illustrations of some of these legendary beasts. Fish that had grown large enough to swallow a whole platoon of rekexi, sharks that hunted those fish and could tear them apart in a bloody frenzy, massive whales the size of an island, and giant turtles with heads that could shoot out and bite at deadly speed, their razor sharp beaks sliced through a carapace like a sharpened rock through a sea cucumber.

Things were looking grim, but the empress remembered the legends of the Divine Crustacean who was said to be slumbering beneath the central mountainous island. She remembered the elders teaching her about the danger of stagnation, and the beauty of regular change. At first it had seemed to her like an attempt to justify the constant wars of unification, but now she realized that there must be more to it.

In what many of her advisors considered a waste of time, Chixichi gathered her best troops, and approached The Shell mountain on the day of Flow when the water level was highest. Calling out to the divinity whose power raised their ancestors from their humble existence they expressed their concerns over growing stagnant, and asked for the ability to change their circumstances.

They were met with silence, and some of the warriors shook their heads. It was to be expected after so many years of silence, why would things be different now?

Chixichi kept her eyes focused, searching for an answer or some sort of sign. Then she spotted it. Washed up on the shore nearby, was a conch shell the size of her head. She had seen larger conchs before, but this shell was more beautiful than any she had seen.

Picking it up, she watched as it changed color to match her crystal blue carapace. Just by holding it her mind was filled with knowledge on the shell’s origin. This had once belonged to the Divine Crustacean, and before it outgrew it, the shell had already been transformed by divine power.

Turning to face her loyal troops, she excitedly presented her find. It would be a relic of the empire, a force of change, to be activated in times of stagnation.

Diving under the waves, the empress blew on the conch. A ripple of divine power was released along with a long clear note. Chixichi felt the power within the shell to dormant, and sighed. It was obvious that it would not provide too many changes at once. The Shell would go to the undersea palace where it would wait until another change was needed.

The alarmed cries of her guards snapped the empress out of her thoughts. Turning around, she was faced with a looming dark shadow that pierced through the water over her troops before slowing to a gentle glide.

Having never braved the waters past the drop off, the creature before her was the largest Chixichi had ever seen. Twenty lengths wide (1 length = length of a full grown rekexi =3’ ≈1m) yet extremely flat, and with a long whiplike tail the creature was beautiful, gliding effortlessly through the water.

Reaching out to touch the gentle creature, the empress immediate felt a strange connection with the simple beast. Exploring the connection further with her mind, she suddenly felt her world turn upside down. Her perspective was twisted and she lost focus in her eyes, as a nauseating feeling welled up inside her.

Gradually recovering, she immediately noticed something strange. She could see her own body in front of her. Trying to move, she watched as the body performed the movements she intended. Then her mind was invaded by an additional set of senses, simple unclear thoughts and emotions. Ones she recognized to not belong to her.

It took a little while to get used to, but eventually Chixichi managed to grasp her new ability and return to her body. Her guards were anxiously watching as their empress went silent and started acting weird, now that she was back to normal they all let out bubbles of relief.

Patting her new partner, Chixichi smiled. This was what the conch had made possible. She didn’t quite understand how her new ability worked, but she could freely “become” the giant manta ray in front of her, controlling it and sharing its senses while simultaneously maintaining a limited functionality of her rekexi body.

The Empress’s expedition

The two years after empress Chixichi and her guards all awoke the special ability was spent in preparation. With the empress herself leading and controlling her giant manta ray, the empire had acquired several more of the larger gentle sea creatures.

Now the preparations were complete, with over 12 giant mantas the empire could finally travel beyond their shallow territory. Specially woven kelp ropes were wrapped carefully around the sea creatures, allowing 20 rekexi per Manta to hold on and “ride” them, along with tying some supplies

Although only 240 rekexi would be a part of the first expedition, they were enough to form a small outpost. More mantas and their controllers were being trained and would join them in the future if a suitable site for expansion was found, and some ambitious youngsters had even bonded with other more challenging creatures such as an octopus a sea horse or eels.

As much as the empress wanted to be a part of the grand quest, she knew (and her advisors made a big point of making sure she knew) that if she left and was gone too long, the empire would likely crumble again, setting their expansion plans back a generation.

And so with reluctance, Chixichi appointed several of her most trusted and talented followers as the leaders for the expedition force. Wishing them luck, she watched them set off into the endless blue.

AP: 1 +4 = 5

Create minor artifact of bless/curse (the Conch of Change) -3 AP
One of Kraxichit’s first shells, transformed by its long exposure to divine power it now contains a sliver of the divine crab’s power to bring change. Kept in the imperial treasury, every ruler of Krillix will attempt to call on its powers, though it generally remains dormant unless it detects potential stagnation. Changes brought by blowing this artifact underwater are, however, not always beneficial to the one using it.
war (unification) 5/10

Bless (Sea Monster Possession) -0 AP (artifact use)
A rare few Rekexi (though with their large populations, the number is still significant) awaken the ability to transfer their spirit into the body of sea monsters (sea creatures who have the potential to grow to much larger than others of their kind due to Kraxichit’s blessing). Doing so allows the Rekexi to control the sea monster as if it were their own body. Their original body becomes like a puppet during this time, only capable of simple actions like basic movements snd holding on to the swimming sea monster. Learning to control a new body is challenging and requires practice, with simpler body shapes like manta rays being easier to learn.

Switching bodies is taxing on the spirit, causing intense nausea, confusion, disorientation and other side effects following an initial possession. Subsequent possessions get easier as the spirits gets used to the new body and make use of the previously established connection. Possessing a creature other than the first is impossible, as a portion of the possessing spirit is forever stuck to the soul of the possessing creature. Possessing a creature that has a spirit is also impossible using this method, as there is no available soul to attach to.
artifact use no portfolio progression

AP remaining: 5 -3 -0 = 2

Rekexi find one of Kraxichit’s old shells. It’s a magical conch that brings change! (Minor artifact of bless/curse)

Rekexi empress uses Conch, to change the situation of the Krillix empire being confined to their “continent”.

It’s super effective. Now there are Rekexi who can posses sea monsters (the oversized sea creatures affected by a precious bless)

First rekexi expedition force leaves Krillix riding in giant manta rays. It’s an historic moment.

Writtensanity

2021-08-29, 11:47 PM

The Tragedy of Nechustani-Nairo

Before the Tragedy

The Venuxi had been hunting the plains for years before they ran into the first Nechustani, and with it, the first prey that didn't act like prey. Rather than running away upon seeing the Venuxi, the first Nechustani had reacted with curiosity, and that had gotten them killed. The Venuxi began to eat their kill, and then other Nechustani descended upon them, trying to defend their kin even in death.

For the Venuxi, this hadn't made any sense, so they had retreated off into the dunes, but soon the sightings of these strange creatures became more common and they became something more clear than myth. They were like the Venuxi in that they could think and care, but they were not Venuxi, so they were still prey.

More and more of the Nechustani had spread into the Venuxi lands, slowly pushing smaller hives out into the deserts that the largest hunting tribe, the tribe lead by the queen Aisling. The dune queen had gathered their desperate tribes under her stingers, and the other queens had sworn loyalty to her to defend their broods.

When word of the coming host of Nechustani came, the Venuxi argued in disbelief. There was no way that there could be that many prey unified in a single place, and if there was, what were they supposed to do about it? Aisling had heard the comments of the other queens and ignored all of them. They were in her den, they were going to wait in the den and the creatures would pass like a sandstorm. Afterall, they were prey. They were not on the hunt.

It was Dierdre, one of the queens in exile that spoke up.

Venuxi are a species that mostly breeds through brood queens that sit at the current highest rank of the society. Unlike some insects, the chance of a Venuxi being born as a queen are completely random. Some Venuxi hatch as queens and that is just how it goes.

Depending on certain hormonal traits, mostly those caused by breeding. Venuxi queens are typically in one of two forms. The first and most common for non-leader queens is their 'Maiden' form, these queens look extremely similar to traditional Venuxi save for being about two feet taller and having a much thicker shell of chitin. Notably, queens of all kinds need to eat much more than traditional Venuxi to maintain their strength.

Brood Queens are the queens that will lead a hive. They are slightly larger than even maiden queens, and trade much of their lithe form for a large egg sac and ovipositor they use for breeding.

Because of this dimorphism, most queens take over a small hive as a maiden, and then end up leading that hive as a brood mother. Notably for this scene, Dierdre is a maiden queen and Aisling is a Brood Queen.

The maiden queen spoke, not to the other queens, but to the Venuxi that were watching. They had been placed on this world as hunters. Were they really going to hide underground simply because the prey was so plentiful? They understood the prey, they'd seen how they'd tried to wipe out other hives. This was a conflict they could win. They would make it a war and there would be a feast so large their children would still taste their meal.

For the first time, the Venuxi of Aisling's hive turned against her, and walked away from the tunnels to follow a maiden who would not bear them families, but would provide a hunt. The few fearful queens who went to speak up against this action felt sudden fear, as if they were being hunted by something far greater than themselves.

For Finae had liked what they'd seen, and this rebel queen knew the difference between hunter and hunted. She and others like her would lead the Venuxi as both predator and prey...

The Rebel Queen is a positon and title blessed by Finae, to be passed down from Maiden Queen to Maiden Queen as the become the prominent hunters in their generation of Venuxi. Though it's not an official title, and there is no way to tell who has it, the achievements of those blessed tends to earn them the moniker among Venuxi anyway.

The Rebel Queen has:

Enhanced Strength compared to other Venuxi
A seemingly limitless appetite
Nearly impossible to kill through mundane means.
Recover from minor injuries over a course of minutes, and major injuries over a course of days.

AP Spent: 2
AP Remaining: 14/16
AP Allocation: Society (The Hunt) now 6/10

The Tragedy

Dierdre felt the wind brushing over the dunes and smiled. She had directed her hunters to the right place. There were many more Nechustani than she had Venuxi, but that didn't matter. Predators had chased herds, and catching the most succulent meat just meant knowing how the heard was going to move. Typically this meant that they would always run away from the Venuxi, but the Nechustani were different, Dierdre knew that they were going to chase the first small group of Venuxi they saw.

She had picked the fastest runners among them, two hundred Venuxi that would show themselves and lead the Nechustani into a wild chase. Like any prey, the slowest of the Nechustani would fall behind, and that would be when the other Venuxi, hidden among the dunes, would strike and begin to pick off the weakest Nechustani leaving them to bleed as the herd thinned.

The distractions had a dangerous job, and as such Dierdre had offered each of them a blessing herself in the morning light, and had told all of them to explain to Finae that they were hunting by being chased, as good fortune smiled upon hunters.

None of this planning had stopped her shell from clicking when she'd seen the host of Nechustani crest over the hill. They were uncountable. So many that the hunters could be hunted.

She had planned for this, it would be okay.

The distraction emerged from the nest and started to run from the horde that had crested the hill, and the horde followed, shouting and jeering as they ran at their full pace. The Venuxi kept them at bay, running, but hardly sprinting to tempt the Nechustani into a continued charge.

Dierdre rattled her shell and the Venuxi around her followed suit, followed by all the Venuxi that had hidden around the Nechustani as they had come into the area. Some of them had hidden in tunnels that were covered by sand, others had simply remained out of view, but all of them were suddenly chittering on the wind and chasing after the Nechustani from all sides.

The Venuxi harassed the horde from behind for a moment, before communication started to work and the Nechustani began to turn around, running towards the Venxui that had come from behind. Some were caught, but most were too fast and disappeared into the dunes as other Venuxi attacked the new back of the horde, leaving more and more Nechustani writhing on the ground succumbing to the poisoned stingers of the hunters.

After some time in the hot sun, the horde changed from a unified charge to a haphazard mess as they tried to catch everything and anything all at once.

Then the first Nechustani broke off from the horde and made a break for it. As soon as one had, hundreds, and then thousands followed.

Through all of the time she'd spent as part of the harassment, Dierdre had been keeping her eye on a single Nechustani, the one that had been at the front when they had arrived at this host. That Nechustani was a leader the same way that Dierdre was a queen. Rather than following her Venuxi as they started to chase down some of the fleeing Nechustani, she set her eyes on that single one in the middle of the breaking throng and charged.

In the confusion, the Nechustani didn't even attempt to stop Dierdre as she pierced the lines and dashed between bodies toward the leader. As she caught a glimpse of the leader, she saw panic, fear and resolve. She planned to remove the latter.

Dierdre took the final steps to the leader, who was the first one to notice her. The leader lashed out with some kind of false stinger, catching the edge of Dierdre's chitin and digging in, but the rebel queen pushed through the wound and grabbed the leader with her long chitinous fingers, and injected her with her thumb stinger.

As the creature cried out in pair Dierdre held it aloft and shouted to her people, scattering the rest of the Nechustani that had rallied around their cause.

Before throwing her away to hunt, Dierdre looked the leader in her eyes, which were so white compared to a Venuxi's and wrapped her cutting limbs around the creatures leg's, pulling them off with a smooth motion and then letting the legs and the create drop onto the scoring mid-day sand.

"Don't run away creature," the rebel queen hissed, "you're my meal."

Durmatagno

2021-08-30, 12:31 PM

Rettia

Rettia sat one her throne, feet tapping against the floor as she thought. She loved her home, it was strange, seemingly endless, but there was something missing. She rose from her throne, wings of ice attached to her back as she began her flight through her halls. Endless rooms, beautiful, boggling, and varied, but empty. Oh so very empty. All of it, this entire place, and there was only her here. On all of Voicuri she was currently the only thinking thing on the moon. Far below there was much more. Plants, people, animals. Here? Her palace had it's gardens, but Voicuri itself was barren on it's surface, only below the thick ice, in the water below, did the moon bear life. Strange, wonderful things of the ocean depths, but they could not come here. Not easily. She did have that aquarium in her room, but even then these creatures could never appreciate what she had made.

The palace turned to the barren moon as she returned high to it's orbit, looking between the moon and the world far below. She raised her hands and around the openings in the ice, where the eternally warm oceans met the air of the moon, life sprouted. Nothing special. Mosses, ferns, other hardy plants one might find on tundra. For them were the beasts that might eat them, and the beasts that might eat those. The moon felt a little less empty, a little less lonely, but it was not right. Not yet.

Her feet touched down on the ice and rock, steam rising around her as she watched little things flitting about. She had an idea. She approached a boulder of ice, and touched it. For a moment nothing happened, then it began to shift and shape. Eventually a human like figure was in it's place, still of ice, but she shook her head. No, that wasn't quite right. She waved her hand and molded the ice as if it was clay. She stretched and squashed, tinkering with both her power and the form in front of her. Slowly it shifted, fur and wings of snow. Antenna here, four arms felt right for this. Three fingers and a thumb, but the body still mostly seemed human in shape and form. It's skin was hard, unlike the carapace of the insects that inspired it. Fur covered most of it's form, longer on the arms that would be exposed, shorter elsewhere, and extremely fine. Most of the fur was soft, almost like silk, to the touch, though the arms were coarser because of their thickness. It's eyes were black and white, inverted compared to most of the beings Rettia saw running around. She continued to tweak, shifting it here and there before finally stepping back and looking at the form. It wasn't done yet, it did not have the spark it needed. She raised her hand, and the statue shattered, an aurora of light spreading out from it's broken form, flowing to everywhere on the moon her things, yet unnamed, could survive, and thrive.

She rose into the air as she thought on the name of her new creations, noting that some of her trails of light extended down to the world below, towards the colder regions that the species had been made to live in. She already noted most of them were living on the icy band of the border between the two sides of her moon, but groups moved across the icy plains, between the large lake vents that let them reach the oceans below. Serovian Moths. That's what she would call them. They could likely survive anywhere that normal life could thrive, but they were built for the cold. She had a few things for them, something to leave them with before she left to her next whim.

First she raised her hands, and uttered their name, letting all living members know who and what they were. Next she had to connect the moon and the world below. So, with an investment of power, thick chains sprouted from the center of the moon, the massive black iron chains slammed into the world below, avoiding killing any being capable of rational thought. Every month, on the night of the full moon, these chains would connect randomly to the world below, allowing those below to attempt to climb them. Anything they damaged would be restored when they receded, leaving no sign that they had buried themselves in the earth below till they reappeared on the next month. This would allow anyone brave and hardy enough to make it to Voicury, and maybe all the way to Rettia's palace if they so dared.

Next she wove her magic to bind together the Serovian Moth's inhabiting her moon, creating great cities and the city-states that would base out of them. The Aurorean States would serve as the beating hearts of the Serovian Moth's of Vociuri. Independent city-states that would war, trade, and scheme against one another, insuring that Rettia would never be bored. There was one problem though, with no metal n this side of the moon, their society would not go far, so instead she had to replace it. She taught them to shape the ice, to make it as strong or stronger than metal, able to withstand even the great heat of magma itself if crafted by the right hands. Ice Shaping, and those that mastered it, would be at the heart of every industry of the Aurorean States, even the aquaculture that would dominate their food.

With that done, Rettia turns her attention back to the world below, determined to explore it as her new people found their place in the world. Wrapped in a cloak of snow, she descended to the world below, to see what others had made, and maybe see what might inspire her to create something new. She never knew where inspiration would com from.

Initial AP - 9
Rollover Gain - 4
Usable AP - 13

Create Serovian Moth (Create Life (Race)) - 2 AP - Tall bipedal beings that resemble a cross between a human or elf and a moth. They are covered in soft, silky fur, usually silver or white in color. They have four arms with three fingers and thumb per hand. Great wings extend from their back, allowing them flight though injury or loss of wing will take this away (Natural flight as opposed to supernatural flight). Sensitive antenna adorn their head, sitting above eyes with black sclera, pales irises and white pupils. Silver or blue eyes tend to be the most common, but others aren't unheard of. Female Serovian Moth's are stronger fliers than their male counterparts thanks to their stronger wings, but otherwise there is little difference you wouldn't find among the elves that seem to have formed their base. Because of this, female Serovian Moth's are more likely to be soldiers and leaders, as flight is central to their way of life.

Chains of Voicuri (Bless) - 1 AP - Every month, on the night of the full moon, massive black chains of iron would connect randomly to the world below, allowing those below to attempt to climb them. Anything they damaged would be restored when they receded, leaving no sign that they had buried themselves in the earth below till they reappeared on the next month. This would allow anyone brave and hardy enough to make it to Voicury, and maybe all the way to Rettia's palace if they so dared.

Create Aurorean States (Create Racial Society) - 2 AP - Monarchial city-states competing for land across the frozen half of Voicury. They are clustered around the geothermal lakes and oceans that allow them to farm seaweed, fish, and other things from the ocean. The cities of the Voicuri border are small and poor compared to those of the icy tundra, but nonetheless have the only easy access to stone, metal, and wood which is often replaced by bone and coral. Their great cities bustle at night, taking advantage of the great auroras that dominate the night sky. Traditionally matriarchal as the states are predominately populated by Serovian Moths, but nothing legally enforces this. At the heart of the societies are five main castes. The Nobility, Ice Carvers, Shamans, Soldiers, and the Peasant class which is everyone else not banished entirely. Nobility reigns above the two equal castes of the Shamans and Ice carvers, who are above the soldiers, who in turn are above the Peasants. Only one of the caste above you can raise you into that cast, so only a soldier can recruit new soldiers, even if it is those above that command them. Their armies are built around their ability to fly, so their armor remains light and flexible to not strain the fliers, though heavy infantry isn't a foreign concept. Archers and harpoon throwers make up their skirmishers, while their infantry uses lances, and/or a pair of spiked swords (Think the Uruk-hai spiked "scimitar" from the LOTR movies).

Create Ice Shaping (Create Mythical Concept) - 4 AP - The magical art of shaping and enchanting ice such that it is strong as iron and steel, or even stronger when an expert uses it. When crafted by such an expert, the shaped ice is able to withstand even the temperatures of the magma on the other side of the moon, as long as it is not touching it directly anyway. It is weakened by the heat though, reducing it back to the simple metal replacement in such heat. In great cold conditions though, masterfully enchanted ice grows stronger. Tools, armor, and weapons of ice are all formed by those that know the secret, held dear by Serovian Moth's as their first gift from their patron Goddess, Rettia of the Frozen Light.

Teach Ice Shaping (Teach Mythical concept) - 0 AP (Own Society) - The Aurorean States were taught Ice Shaping.

Final AP - 5

Domain Advancement - Fire (Magma) - 5/10 AP (Create Voicury (Create Land), Create Rettia's Palace (Weave Plane))

Life (Insects) - 4/10 AP (Create Serovian Moth (Create Life (Race)), (Create Aurorean States (Create Racial Society))

Magic (Enchantment) - 4/10 AP (Create Ice Shaping (Create Mythical Concept), Teach Ice Shaping (Teach Mythical Concept)

Zelphas

2021-08-30, 03:19 PM

At the Bottom of the Beckoning Deep

The small things were interesting. They knew the Calling's urge downwards, and yet they also felt an upward striving, a desire that was more than need. It could sense this desire even in the tiny things it had created, shape its way around it and figure out its pull on a mortal soul against its own, and yet it could not understand it. The creatures it had made, which called themselves the Osedaxi, had created their entire society around these two desires--the true one for depth and the false one for height--but they knew which they should follow. for every fathom they rose, payment was required to the deep. And they knew that the deep was where they finally belonged. They still split into two once their physical forms ended, but the Calling had learned how to keep the extra bits down with it quickly enough. They were where they belonged now, too.

If only the other small things, more every moment scattered around this world could learn this properly too... Ah.

It felt opposite what it knew was right, but it could see the greater picture. All things will eventually return to the Deep. The Osedaxi are proof of this. It sent a few, a whisper in the mind. They would be the first.

The Same Scene in Many Places, with Many Variations

They came up from the sea, large, ragged forms of bloodred with green-white eyes and tentacle-tongues and jagged purple-black rock for teeth. Many found coverings for themselves, small ragged cloaks of leaf or cast-off bits of cloth or wool. They staggered on legs unused to land-walking, searching for the first sapient mind they could touch. Words were clunky, slow, they got in the way of the proper desires. For a short time, their god, their truest desire, has allowed them to bypass that, to speak directly. To explain to the other small things what the proper end is for them, and for all things.

Many did not listen. Many responded dismissively, angrily, violently. But some... heard. Some listened. And some began to follow.

In the Beckoning Deep, it noticed a slow increase of things returning to their proper place. It seems there had been some success.

0 AP + 4 AP = 4 AP

Form Racial Society (The Caste of Fathoms) -2 AP: The Osedaxi have a strict caste-based society which is decided by the height in which they were born. Those born at ten miles below sea level are the most revered of the Osedaxi. They never leave their place in the Beckoning Deep, being fed and cared for by the others; they only owe their bodies to the Deep when they die. Those born at nine fathoms move up and down the Beckoning Deep, but never leave it; they feed and care for those at ten fathoms, give birth to all the Osedaxi, and owe their bodies plus their weight in stone when they die. Those born at eight fathoms become the hunters of the Osedaxi, fighting on the sea floor to bring food back to the Beckoning Deep. Each eight-fathom Oseda is expected to bring back at least ten sea creatures before they send their bodies to the Deep. Finally, those rare few Osedaxi born at seven fathoms are sent to the surface world to become Deepspeakers (see below). For reaching so high, they must bring down at least one hundred souls by their actions before their own soul goes to the Deep. None of this matters to the Calling, of course; it will take every soul, regardless of their success. (Domain Progression: Society (Thralldom) 7/10)

Create Organization (Speakers of the Deep) -1 AP: Headed by Osedaxi that are sent to the world above, the Speakers of the Deep teach a modified form of the Osedaxi's own society. The higher you reach, the more that you are expected to give to the Deep at your end. Financial and social success is allowed, even encouraged; philanthropy is suggested as a partial way to "pay down" the debt, by moving money "lower" to those below the follower in society. The key aspect of the Speakers for the Deep is the funeral ceremony; they are expected to be as lavish as possible given the means of the person, and a good portion of their wealth is either sunk in the sea with their body or buried with them in deep underground vaults. (Domain Progression: Disaster (Invasion) 6/10)

Curse (Calling the Soul) -1 AP: After observing how souls are functioning, the Calling has laid claim to the souls that are connected to it. Any soul connected to the Calling does not go to the Wending when it dies; instead it is drawn down to the Calling and bound to it forever (At least for now). Souls "connected to the Calling" are currently the Osedaxi, those who follow the Speakers for the Deep, Landeaters, and any creature that dies while indulging in the desire that the Calling has created with Calling the Mind (so people who jump off of high cliffs, or dive too deep into the water and drown, for example). (Domain Progression: Emotions (Dread) 7/10)

Blessing (Deep Calling to Deep) -0 AP (Discounted by the Pit of Hunger): For a short time, the Osedaxi sent to the surface world are able to speak directly to the minds of other sapients they encounter, allowing the Speakers of the Deep to gain a much greater foothold than it would have gotten without it.

4 AP - 4 AP = 0 AP Remaining

Writtensanity

2021-08-30, 10:37 PM

Finae had watched the fight between the Rebel Queen and the prey with great interest. Hunting on such a large scale was unprecedented. It was something that the God had not considered when they'd given the hive form. Interesting. Finae chose to give form to a new creature, but they needed to discover what they would be inspired by.

The mists of Finae came upon one of the smallest creatures that lived in the watery estuaries of Abdita, small insects that were left alone by the birds and lizards that skittered around the area. Curious.

Then Finae came upon the carcass of a large bird, covered with the small insects. Were they simply scavengers?

It took some time for Finae to discover what was going on. The insects would wait for a creature to try to eat them because the lightest touch of their skin was enough to paralyze creatures in seconds. Once the victim was dead, hundreds of the creatures descended upon it, tearing it apart when it was still alive.

Finae had found their new hunter. This hunter wouldn't chase. This hunter would trap and lure.

https://media.discordapp.net/attachments/874179741349982260/877804210412990484/image1.jpg

The Ghilliandi are humanoid creatures that are covered in a thick layer of chitin everywhere aside from their wings. Despite appearances, their wings cannot be used for proper flight, and are instead used for brilliant displays of colour. The wings are also critical to their hunting.

The touch of a Ghilliandi is lethal to almost any creature that they would encounter without powerful magic being used to neutralize it. Small hooked spores dot their skin and inject powerful neurotoxin to anything aside from another Ghilliandi that touches them. Additionally, if they flap their wings violently they can cause these spores to carry on the wind and catch on the lungs of unsuspecting victims.

As primarily ambush and toxin predators, Ghilliandi aren't fast. Instead moving almost silently with inherent grace. Their graceful movements are often used to tempt creatures close enough to get caught in their wing's spores.

Ghilliandi are sexually dimorphic species, namely in the standard humanoid ways, as well as females having much more brilliant wing colourations to attract the rare males of the species. Male Ghilliandi are only about 1/100 born.

Current AP: 14/16
AP Spent: 2
AP Allocation: Death: Poison (2/10)
Remaining AP: 12/16

----

Ghilliandi society begins as a small harem-based series of tribes that cover large areas of marsh. In Ghilliandi society, males are rarely the leaders of the group, but they are a small protected class which a 'harem' protects as a precious resource. This inherent competition over males results in the tribes rarely working with one another.

Due to the fact that Ghilliandi's primary means of conflict, their toxin, doesn't work against other Ghilliandi, discussion and compromise are critical to ensuring their society functions, as one group cannot easily take over another due to their lack of inherent strength, and at the moment, lack of weaponry.

Ghilliandi's 4 hands allow them to be incredibly dextrous when it comes to working with small materials, and many of the shelters they create are primarily made of weaved grasses and branches.

Current AP: 12/16
AP Spent: 2
Ap Allocation: Death - Poison (4/10)
Remaining AP: 10/16

Gnomes2169

2021-08-31, 07:10 AM

Shaping Tools of War
The mists in the First World had been present for a few weeks, and the Andlitir had been busy. While simply using their bodies, the mists around them and what tools they could pick up from their victims had proven to be quite effective in their hunts thus far, the lack of weapons of their own when they entered a planar bridge that touched pure, densely populated wilderness or a culture that didn't use tools outside of their bodies yet was proving an obstacle.

The solution came naturally and easily to them. With only a little bit of experimentation, the Daumer peoples learned how to transition their own tools, clothing and other items into a mist-like form that could be carried alongside them. They also learned to reach into mist and form solid, hand-held objects from it, which some of the more adventurous or arrogant Andlitir used exclusively as a matter of pride. Tools formed in this manner could be likened to obsidian or dense glass and faded back into mist the moment that they left their conjurer's hands.

With that helpful little innovation, Daumer raids increased in effectiveness immediately. A fact that the people of Piedwald would be the first to experience...

Circle of Metal and Bone, the first raids
Their scout returned after an hour, a copper needle in one hand, a tuft of hair in the other, and a smirk of smug satisfaction on her face. "Told you I could grab them without being seen."

Her fellow huntsman rolled his eyes at her, his mist-borne form hiding the reaction despite her smirk growing in size on her face hinting that she knew. "Right, right. And the people you got them from?" When she shrugged, he sighed and specified, "How many are there, do they have something we can use, is this raid worth our time?"

"Oh. Should have asked that instead of being obtuse." She responded, tucking her trophies into the pouch at her hip. "More people than our entire village, the strange rocks they have seem to make useful tools, large stores of food, annnnnd... are you stupid? Absolutely."

He considered her words for a few moments. Large numbers of people could pose a problem, even if they weren't expecting to be attacked, likely the safest bet would be to pick off a few stragglers in the mist and take them back to Hvittmaudh. But... where was the honor in that? The glory? The point of the raids wasn't just to grab things for the tribe, it was to send a message to these soft, warm-weather fools and to find challenge. The three other Andlitir beside them would look to their raid leader, waiting for his permission, and he took a half-physical form so he could meet the scout's eyes with his own.

"Very well. Our raid will start quickly, striking at their village center. Make your examples, take their bodies back to our tribe, and then we return to grab tools or pick off stragglers. Only fight once their hunters and warriors are assembled." The mists of Hvittmaudh were thick and still this day, so that would give this raid hours before they dissipated. That should be more than enough time for whoever these people were to figure out what was going on. "If these strange tools prove dangerous to us, we take as many as we can and we leave. No matter if, how many, or which of us fall. Understood?"

The scout met his eyes with a wide, mischievous grin, and simply melted back into pure mist before streaking off towards the village. A few seconds later, four more shrouded forms followed in her wake... and the chaos began.

Glimbisk, the horn's first sounding
The Slig had begun to build true colonies in this world, and those colonies faced very little resistance in these early days, when this reality was still young, and its mortals yet untested. Above them a raven flew, her size far greater than that of a mortal bird, but that fact was obscured by the great distances which she flew above them. After finishing her fourth loop, the bird flew down and landed upon Tahr'Thua's horns, and in her cawing voice told him what she had seen. The Howler looked upon Glimbisk, one of the Slig's bright and shining colonies, with all of that food and its happy little populace, and the muscles at the jawline of his skull flexed as if he were trying to scowl.

No. No this would not do. Too simple. Too unprepared. And too easy for how momentous this occasion was meant to be. Holding out his hand to the side, the god conjured the horn of mists that he had left to this plane and strode to the edge of the Glimbisk hive. Standing there, waiting for the mortals of this colony to see him and the trail of cloven ice footprints he'd left in his wake, Tahr'Thua took in a long, deep breath, sounding like the last gasp of a man with a punctured lung, and he lifted his horn.

The sound that emanated into, around and through Glimbisk wasn't heard as much as it was felt. A sensation of something being torn open along each mortal's body, a film that was pressed into them just moments before it was dissolved. For some there was the scent of ozone in the air, for others the sudden sensation of vertigo caused by gravity just stopping for half a second. And in that instant of change the mists came.

And from the mists they came.

Starting AP: 0

Rollover: +4 AP

-2 AP; Mythical Magic Subconcept - Mist Forming: A magic that Andlitir use naturally to take on their mist forms, Mist Forming is the temporary manipulation of mists into non-organic materials or changing an object temporarily into mist. Ultimately, this allows practitioners to carry objects much heavier than they could normally, allows creatures to form tools of a cold, pale stone-like metal (with durability and shape control determined by the spellcaster's mastery, typically as tough as obsidian) formed from mist, and allows Andlitir to carry their tools and weapons with them while in their ethereal mist form.

This also allows its practitioners to do all the things the Andlitir can with their bodies, though their control and natural ease with its transformative properties is, obviously, unmatched.
Domain Progression: Deception (Mists) 9/10

Ending AP: 2

Domain Progression:
Deception (Mists) 9/10
Fear (Nightmares) 8/10
War (Glory) 1/10

moonfly7

2021-08-31, 02:55 PM

The Tempering of Kalvrankin Part 1

It was a clear and warm day. The sun was shining, there wasn't a single cloud in the beautiful deep blue sky, and it seemed like just another perfect day in the Orchard for all. Those who lived there began their daily tasks, fetching water, preparing food, and generally preparing for a gorgeous work day. In the center of town, the Circle of Bronze and Bone gathered for their weekly meeting. To discuss what had been acomplished this week, how far they had spread their knowledge, and how to improve.

It is funny, how life works sometimes, when mere coincidence has more effect on the outcome of events than all of the gods combined. Because it was on this day that Tajir Dahiatan was, for the first time, running late. She had overslept by a few minutes and had just finished donning the traditional robes of her order when she heard cries from the others. They were jubulious exclamations, and so at first she simply rolled her eyes and continued her morning routine, annoyed by her friends and colleagues constant joy and praise of every miniscule thing.

And then her mind processed the actual words being said, and Tajir's world was set aflame.

"Look everyone, the mists are coming back! And it's brought Friends!"

As a cheer went up from the others, fear clutched at Tajir's heart, fear she could not explain or describe, fear that chilled her down to her very bones. As the others cheers roared up, Tajir scrambled for her bronze smith's hammer, and once her frantic hands grasped it, she began to slam it into the wall at the foot of her bed, splintering the panel there, revealing a 4 foot tall and 3 foot wide hidden compartment. She reached inside and hastily began effixing straps and tightening buckles. She had just pulled on the last strap when the cheers turned to screams, and harsh laughter could be heard, laughter not from any throught that Tajir had ever heard before.

The short but stout Al-Atfal grabbed the bronze, silver, gold, and wooden haft of the Axe hidden in the panel, and hefted it into her hands. It was not a simple axe fro cutting wood, but a weapon of her own design, with metal going first out from the haft like a rectangle, then sharply curving down at a right angle, leaving a large expanse of bronze blade, a space of several inches, and then the haft. This was a blade of war, a weapon, not a tool.

Tajir carefully opened her door with silent motions, and surveyed the chaos. People screamed as two of the denizens of the grove were drug into the fog. Two innocents, not yet on their second story, neither even members of the Circle. These tall, pale skinned fiends had just taken them to Kalvrankin knows where, and they were still here laughing as they hunted her people, who were to shocked and to unprepared fight back. Chosen for this gruesome deathbecause of their softness and kindness, because they tried to follow the doctrine of a peace loving god.

Tajir's blood boiled in her small body, and a scream of rage was torn from her throat. Come to kill the peaceful in their grove of plenty had they? Come to raid and torment the kind people without a hateful bone in their, often skeletal, bodies? Well, these cold bleached mosnters would soon find that those bones of rage had found themselves inside of one person in the grove, and she would be giving them Justice.

The first Andlitir to fall didn't even know there was a threat, a good and stalwart Hunter he had been, and he was no stranegr to battle, but a bronze axe to the back of the head can defeat even the most well trained of warriors. The second Hunter had some forewarning, as she heard cracking and squelching of bone and flesh being broken, and turned to fight the threat.

What she saw was a sight that before this day simply would never have been seen on this hill, never be permitted in the sacred Orchard. She saw a single Al-Atfall, easily only half the height of the Andlitir, covered in the blood of a fellow huntsman, clad in a Bornze chest piece and wielding a truly massive Beared Axe of the same metal.

The huntress yelled a war cry and charged forward in a thrust at the new foe, finally, an adversary that could give a challenge!

Tajir reacted to slowly to avoid the stab, and took the blow to her shoulder, where the force of the charge pierced her armor and sunk into her flesh. Instead of panicking at her wound, Tajir smiled a terrible grin with teeth that had been stained with the blood of her first kill dribbling from her hair. She smiled because she knew what the idiot Ice Elf did not about the Bronze made by the followers of Lord of Buried Art.

As the fierce warrior tried to extract her spear for a killing blow, she found that she could not. the weapon was stuck, not just from the hole it had punched in the armor, but stuck like the metal had been forged around the spear. The bronze was climbing up it, covering the head and base of the shaft, and sealing the wound to the metal. The Hunter quickly transformed her weapon into mist and pulled it free, but the action was all the opening Tajir needed to swing her axe into her foes chest, cleaving into the enemy hunter and pulping several major vital organs. Her cold body was dead before it even hit the ground.

As the second foe fell, the other two remaining Hunters turned and tried to flee, back to the mists, to escape with several tools and the body of an Undead Al-Atfal. Tajir would not allow this, not today. Today was not a day of mercy, these, these things had attacked her home, her family, they did not deserve to see another day.

Let none escape! They've killed our brothers and sisters and hunted us like dogs! Show them the power of the Second Story, show them the Wrath of Kalvrankin!"

And at her words, the others did rally and give chase to the fleeing Ice elves, who had shifted to mist form for protection against the Circle of Bronze and Bone's Bronze Hammers and Shovels. They thought themselves assured an escape, for these warm dwellers short legs could not carry them fast enough to catch the mists, and they could not touch them if they could.

But here they miscalculated, for it was not only the People of the orchard who responded to Tajir's Cry, but the Skeletal animals that prowled it's depths, and the Tree's themselves. To halt their escape, the Orchard did respond to it's denizens cry and release the power of it's creator, instilling the Silver that graced it's branches with power beyond that which it already possessed. And like a dog shaking water off it's back, the Orchard shook, and the silver eggs alone fell from it's branches.

One Hunter made it clear of the orchard, reaching the safety of the mists just in time to see her companion pass as mist over an egg, only to suddenly solidify and trip over it, crying in agony as the metal hissed and steam, burning his ankle badly. Moments later he was set upon by the enraged followers of Kalvrankin, and the mad Al-Atfal with the Axe. Stuck in horror, she watched form the safety of the mists, being slowly pulled home and therefore being only just able to see the horror's to come.

"Oh, so you don't like silver, do you?" The small blood covered fiend cackled "What a shame! What a shame. Because we like silver, Ice Fiend. We like it VERY much."
And with that she pulled from her finger a silver ring, and forced it down the injured Hunter's throat. And that was the last thing the Huntress heard before the mists finally whisked her home.

Bless/Curse(Hot Silver) 1 AP discounted to 0 by Orchard: by the orchards magic might over metals, it did answer it's denizens call and halt the retreat of the Andlitir, by enchanting silvers magic light and surface to burn their skin and trap them in physcial form. Weapons made of silver and the light produced by True Tempered Silver burn Andlitir like cold iron does to fey, and traps them in their mist form for some minutes after being struck.

Breitheamh

2021-08-31, 05:19 PM

It is written...

In our darkest hours, when Hope seems most fragile, most weak, and without any merit, it is Hope that we must cling to ever more.

The Story is Good. That does not mean the Story always looks good, or feels good. In fact, Story means very little if it remains forever the same way it started.

Al-Kitab, The Circle of Bronze and Bone, the Combine; all had now seen horror, tragedy, death. The perfect harmony of this beautiful world that tells us its Story has been shattered, never again to be the same.

But Harmony is not lost forever. Just as each Soul rejoins the energy of Life that breathes into the world, so a shattered Harmony is unmade only to be remade later, when Hope shines through the darkness and inspires each of us to recreate our piece of that perfect Harmony...

Who-Believes this to be true, must shine the beacon of Hope when all others have long since abandoned its small, warm, unquenchable flame.

***

As the First War of Al-Kitab began, they're Spirits reaching out in desperation for something to explain the Andlitir's senseless violence, the one Who-Believes stood upon the the shores of the island of Sailloch, upon which no Spirit had yet set foot.

He let the breath of the wind tickles his face as he breathed in this air...this deep, ancient, powerful air. Yes, that was the right word...somehow. This forest was utterly peaceful, yet somehow felt indescribably dangerous.

He wandered in further, allowing the feeling of some strange force to tug at his soul, to reach a wellspring of Life. He wanted to see the great Willow that had built this whole land...

Wait...

How did he know that?

He-Believed it, yes...

But something else had told him. Something that knew it was emphatically TRUE.

What was this place?

He stared around him in wonder at the trees, taller than anything he had ever seen before...

Were they that tall before he had crossed the water?

He reached out a hand... and touched a Tree...

It was alive... and strong...

He smiled, his faith in this mystery filling his Soul with Joy and his Spirit with Hope.

He turned to the Tree and spoke his First Word here on Sailloch... "You are TRULY STRONG" he said, for a moment unaware of what he had just done.

And then he heard it...

No...

Felt it?

No...

No, he did not feel it or hear it, but he most certainly KNEW it: his Belief in that moment was wrong. He had Named this Tree something that was NOT its Name...

He looked up again in awestruck wonder at what he had just experienced, and bowed in front of the Tree. There was something more True in this world, and he wished to understand it...

And He-Believed...

Feathersnow

2021-08-31, 08:23 PM

Slingid:

The Fall of Glimblisk

On the last day there was an odd chill in the semi-tropical clearing burnt out of the forest. One that crept into the longhouse in its center, that currently housed a small hive of Sligs 47 workers. They were three clutches born here and 12 companions, brothers of the Queen.

Soon, they imagined, each small cadre would carve out another hollow in the forest and build a smaller longhouse there. In 25 years, or 42, but probably not 8, it was supposed, their Queen would have her first clutch of daughters, and the cycle would begin again. By then, the twelve original brothers, presumably, would be the grand leaders of cares nearly as big as this entire hive, and smaller cadres would start to splinter from them. It was how it had been at the First Hive, and no one knew of any reason it would change. Sligs were born nearly as large as competent as they would ever be, and, barring ever-too-common accidents, none had yet died. Not of old age. And certainly never of violence.

It was not to be, and the peace that had reigned since Slingid's mercy on the First Queen created the abmundials and borametz of Piedwals was about to end.

A horn sounded...

A mist rose, not entirely uncommon in the wet climate, but chillier than any could remember. The Sligs had a watch. Not that there was much of a need, but the woods had predators, and there were tall tales of monsters. Anyway, the youngest were still learning to speak, and watching was all they were good for, so it kept them busy and made them feel important.

A gurgling scream was abruptly cut off. This was the only warning given to the Sligs still in the longhouse. The parties out gathering wood were already dead, and only that last guard noticed his killers before it was too late.

The Queen reached out with her mind to see through the eyes of her hive. She saw nothing! Over a dozen workers were just... gone. The line of communication was privileged. She could see and she could send, but the workers could do neither...

There was one hunting party, armed with stone-tipped spears that was outside of the mists. She ordered them to run as fast as their prostheses could carry them. The one wizard among her hive was only a few meters away. She impressed on him the rudiments of a spell they would cast co-operatively. To the other workers around them, her mind-speak implored them to be ready to fight with whatever crude tools were at hand. Even now, direct speech was too great a breach of decorum.

The Daumer burst through the main door and were met with Sligs weilding stone adzes and mortars. They were cast down from their legs and stomped! But their sacrifice bought time for the great animating spell to finish. The Longhouse collapsed forward and in, smashing the vanguard of the Daumer and the dying Sligs, both. The few surviors of Glimblisk started to run... right into a flank of more of the creatures, who, though surprised by the violence of the defense, had anticipated some manner of retreat.

At last, only the Queen remained, thrashing as the alien warriors dismembered her alive to make her huge body easier to carry off. Her gilded palanguin was wrecked, by then, one of the legs, sturdy enough to hold her, was simply unsuited to hold up to deliberate attack and snapped.

By the time the hunting party made it back to the village, all that was left was the burning wreckage of the longhouse and a single Daumer body that the raiders had been unable to recover.

She-Who-Was-Ever-A-Part screamed at the loss! The Eldest Queen told the survivors, all four of them, to gather any metal they could carry and await a cadre to come collect them and take them back to still viable settlements...

The Queens shared a telepathic link, but when the workers were resettled, they would spread the same stories and memories of loss among the lesser members of the hives by talking alone.

The Sligs would never forget the first death of a Queen, nor the fall of Glimblisk.

elsewhere
The giant stranger came from the sea. That was all Ytrel Cadre knew for sure about them. That, and they were big, and strong. The Sligs respected this, and taught their language to them quickly, though they were awed by their Queenly ability to speak without words, the stranger confessed it was only a temporary blessing of their God, not an innate power.

The stranger was of great help to the struggling cadre, which had recently schism from one of the original cadres of the Central Hive. They taught that to acquire was good, but to bury or sink things was the greatest good of all. This didn't make much sense to the Sligs, but a magical giant told them so, and they were willing to entertain the hypothesis.

Especially once the stranger taught then to unlock the secret of magic even in a worker who did not hatch with it. With that secret, they quickly became one of the elite cadres of the hive, getting the plum assignments and courted with the best barter offers from the others.

She-Who-Was-Ever-A-Part searched their minds as this tiny sliver of her hive grew ever more prominent. She did not approve of them monopolizing the stranger and found their new philosophy nonsensical. But, she reasoned, they were harmless.

zzzzzzzz414

2021-08-31, 11:03 PM

The willow Ent that would one day be called "Cairrelach" was like most other Ents of the Sailloch. Their existence was not one of quick, singular and minute attention, like the narrow-sighted beasts of land, sea and sky that moved about and beneath their boughs. Their view was broader than that, a grand tapestry of thought and emotion and a thousand conversations in the soil, whose intricate patterns were of seasons and cycles, not minutes and happenstance. This was the insight given them by grandfather SAILLE who was OGAM, and what separated her children from the beasts - to know and be and name each other, to exist beyond the bare momentary instinct of survival.

Which was why, for the Ent that would be called "Cairrelach", the sensation of being suddenly yanked down to that perspective was the most terrifying thing they had ever experienced.

It was like if an Atfal were suddenly made to experience the world from the perspective of their left pinky finger. It was like being deafened by the sound of one's own hair growing. It was like being stabbed in the chest by a mosquito. And along with it - the cause of it - was an unbearable wrongness, something that scraped like metal on metal against the very essence of their being, a NAME that pulled every bit of the Ent's awareness towards it, towards its speaker, towards the unimaginable sharpness of the singular instant of NOW.

And as that sharpness focused, as that wrongness drew itself into excruciating clarity, mixing with their essence of true Self and the power flowing in their roots, it wrapped itself around...a message. A sensation, a feeling, the absolute vaguest and softest of ideas that only now came into focus beneath the broad tapestry of the forest's conversation, resolving itself into a single concept, a single word that echoed from the roots of OGAM xerself.

Speak.

A stem, splitting.

A bone, dislocating.

Left eye and right, an image dividing, converging and dividing again.

A Name was silently uttered in words of wood and root. Something within the Ent that would be called "Cairrelach" was cut. And as the lone Atfal at their base watched, the massive willow suddenly rustled and creaked as if caught in a great wind; leaves swirled around their branches, around a particular spot on the ground in front of the trunk, swirling, stirring, weaving something from bark and leaf and clay, at long last resolving into...an Atfal.

But this was not an Atfal like any that Who-Believes had ever known. This figure had skin like bark and hair like willow leaves. Their lower half was not that of an Atfal, but of a deer's hind legs; and from their head, a pair of antlers that looked like stripped wood sprouted. When they opened their eyes, nothing but soft green light shone in the empty sockets. And when they opened their mouth, what came forth was a language Who-Believes did not know, yet somehow understood perfectly clearly; he somehow knew that in its resonant magical echoes was the same Name he had tried to give to the Sligs, and the one he had tried to give to this tree, as the first Dryad spoke the words they were created to speak:

"That is not my name."

AP Total: 3

Rollover: 3+4 = 7AP

Create Mythical Subconcept (Magic): Truenaming (1AP, shared with Maktub)

True Naming is inherently tied to the True Language: a vast alphabet of syllables laden with layers of complex meaning and detail according to a "grammar" of tone, intent, spacing, its relation to the other syllables used with it, and the amount and type of magical "resonance" behind each syllable. The True Language cannot be "pronounced" correctly without magic, and cannot be easily expressed in writing; though it can be expressed through speech, the complex communication networks of tree roots, and through other, possibly undiscovered means. The True Language is the natural language of Ents, though all sapient creatures can grasp and use it.

Due to its immense and magical complexity, the True Language is also the only thing that can capture the fullness of a True Name. A full True Name is, quite simply, the fullness of knowledge about a spirit at a certain point in time: absolutely every detail about it, every part of its personality and flaws and desires, all compressed into a set of syllables in the True Language. Knowledge of a True Name grants incredible power over an individual; not necessarily due to magical compulsion, but due to the sheer power such knowledge holds - one simply knows how the holder of the Name will react, knows just what to say to comfort and connect with them - or to coerce and break them. Even hearing one's own True Name, the stark reality of who they are, is enough to distress and disconcert many.

Discovering a pre-existing True Name is rather difficult and rare, however, for two reasons. The first being that discovering a True Name requires intimate knowledge of both the individual and of the True Language itself - there are uncountable possible True Names, and the further a guessed Name is from the true one, the less power it holds. And the second is that, just as a spirit in the world is not a dead or stagnant thing, neither is a True Name. The True Name of a living being can change over time, as its self and spirit changes with experience. Even one who grants a Name to something may not actually know it after a short time: for to live is to change, and even the act of Naming something may fundamentally change the thing and the name.

A True Name is inherently tied to spirit: to use magic to give something a Name is to create a new spirit, a new sapient being - to invest power into an identity until, through sheer force of will, they become real. This makes Naming a serious and difficult thing. To give a brutishly simple Name to a dog that sums up as "one that enjoys killing" is to create a fully sapient person whose sole joy and purpose for existence is to kill. This can be very dangerous if abused. The most common use of True Names is to empower and grant identity to animals and, more rarely, objects; but, in certain circumstances, it can be used in other ways as well. One can, for instance, give a Name to a raging fire that sums up as "one that recedes and dies"; and the fire, as well as it is able, will follow its newly-granted nature, bending to the will and control of the one that granted it. The absoluteness of a Name, to what it can apply and how that Name is followed depends in large part upon the will and ability of the namer, and the relationship created through the Name. Ironically enough, due to the nature of the True Language, simple names are more difficult to give, and the subtle meaning of a Name can be difficult to divine. A mage seeking absolute control over a Named being may still find that the Name they give it contains hidden depths they did not expect or prepare for; for a True Name is life, and life is seldom predictable.

Magic (Druids) 1/10

Create Racial Life: Dryads (2AP)

Dryads are a unique form of life created by Ents using a mixture of proto-Truenaming magic and their own mysterious power, whose bodies closely resemble wood and leaves.

Dryads are, in essence, a "copy" of an Ent's spirit and True Name, magically poured into a more "humanoid" body, and thus possessing a more humanoid, discrete and moment-to-moment perspective than their Ent selves. Of course, the very act of doing this irrevocably changes the spirit, meaning that a Dryad created by an Ent has a very different, though similar, spirit and true name, which may diverge even further over time through experience. However, the spirits and souls of an Ent and a Dryad are very closely interlinked; if an Ent dies, the Dryad linked to them will soon follow (unless prevented by as-yet-unknown magic), and if a Dryad dies suddenly or violently, their Ent will be physically shocked and may severely sicken or die; even if they recover, they are often permanently weakened. However, this connection also means that they are inherently aware of each others' general physical, mental and emotional states, and can communicate via a rough telepathic link. The exact relation between an Ent and a Dryad they create varies according to social norms and the individuals involved; some pairs view their relationship as parent/offspring, some as older/younger sibling, and many simply view each other as an extension of themselves. The nuances can be likened to the relationships between Namer and Named in the magical tradition of Truenaming. With almost no exceptions, there is only ever one Dryad per one Ent; the exponentially increased stress of trying to forge more than one Dryad bond would immediately tear almost any Ent apart, magically and mentally.

Dryads vary widely in physical appearance, as Ents themselves vary widely and are spread across multiple continents. There are a handful of generally common characteristics:

-Their top halves are generally similar to that of a humanoid species.

-Their bottom halves and a few other features (horns or antler-like growths on their heads are common) are generally similar to that of a woodland creature, usually an ungulate. The lower half, whatever the animal it is copied from, is generally "scaled" to the humanoid half, not the other way around - so, for instance, on a Dryad with a top half resembling an Atfal and a lower half resembling a deer, the Dryad will be roughly the size of an Atfal, and the deer half will be significantly scaled down compared to a true deer.

-Their skin and/or fine fur resembles the wood and bark of the Ent that created them, and they often have "hair" on the top of their heads resembling the leaves of that Ent.

-They have no true "eyes", but sockets that are constantly full of green light.

Beyond that, their appearances vary greatly, as their appearances are usually "copied" from the surrounding life, and from those whom the Ents wish to communicate with or see as being communicative; the specifics vary greatly according to the Ent's surroundings, the nature of the maker, the nature of the Dryad as they are created, and the mindset and relationship to the creation in the mind of the Ent. Even the body plan can vary: some Dryads are bipedal, their legs resembling the hindlegs of an animal (like a classical Satyr), while others are quadrupedal (like a classical Centaur). Piedwalden Dryads often have features resembling those of deer or wild hogs; Cartisian Dryads often have features resembling those of mountain goats and rams; Abditan Dryads often have features resembling those of antelope or bovines; and Northern Continent Dryads often have features resembling those of moose or caribou.

Despite their appearance, Dryads do not obtain sustenance like trees or Ents, and have biological needs such as food, sleep, etc. They are created as "mature" beings, and do not grow or age; they are also effectively biologically immortal, having no maximum age, but can still be killed or die of biological causes such as disease or starvation as easily as anything else. Dryads do not have any sort of sexual dimorphism, and most have features that could be described as "androgyous".

Life (Ents) 7/10

7-3 = 4AP Remaining

Razade

2021-09-02, 02:36 AM

The Wellspring: Home of The Deluge

The Deluge had stormed and raged in spaces between the First World and the slow roots of the planar tree. It had witness the birth of other words, its own slowly forming around it until it had filled the basin of that quiet place and The Wellspring had been made in full. As the planar tree grew, the true roots of that great and vast thing stretched out and it was so that The Wellspring touched out upon Hvittmaudh though many more roots would soon stretch and drink the planar energies of the other worlds.

But the Deluge, inscrutable, spake with words of lightning and fury and etched into this vast ocean of endless limestone.

1. The Wellspring cannot be conquered. Those that try are punished.
2. The Wellspring is for the Gods, Mortal Life not serving the Gods cannot remain forever.
3. The Wellspring and its roots must not be harmed, those seeking to cut the Plane off from the Planar Tree are to be punished.
4. Those that respect The Wellspring will always find their way.
5. Those that worship or build shrines to the Deluge shall be punished.

Those that are punished, be they mortal, will find The Wellspring and its waters poison to their being. Those that travel with hostile intent or break the laws of the Wellspring will wither and grow ill until they leave or die.

AP: 4

Bridge Plane (The Wellspring to Hvittmaudh) -2AP: A series of islands within the Wellspring now stand as gateways to the frigid cold hells of Hvittmaudh. Those traveling the waters of these islands will eventually find their way into the frost choked waters of this cold plane, the islands themselves in these waters and the Wellspring both. Life on these islands are harsh, nightmarish and cold. [The Planes (Portals) 5/10]

Bless (The Beauty of the Wellspring) -1AP: Those who use the Wellspring for honest purposes, even if destructive purposes, when traveling the Wellspring will always find their destination. [The Planes (Portals) 6/10]

Curse (The Rules of Who Spoke) -1AP: The Noble Instrument of Creation has imposed rules on all mortal life that might travel the planes. The rules are detailed above as are the punishments. [The Planes (Portals) 7/10]

MrAbdiel

2021-09-02, 04:43 AM

The Threefold Tragedy

This is the second Tragedy; the Tragedy of those Nechustani people groups who struck out into the green places with intemperance and hubris.

The Tragedy of Nechustani-Hadar

Fathenal-Stands-With-Purpose shivered, and breathed deeply of the woodland air. There was a depth to even a breath in this place that felt more rounded and hopeful than the dry of the desert. The grass was thick here; pleasant under his bare feet. The game was good here; plentiful, though not especially easy to track and catch. Most of all, the water was easy to find here; not a daily trial as it was in the Nuarahan, or any other stretch of arid land in Abdita. He could see his people flourishing here, and he could see so certainly it almost leapt from the abstract of his imagination to superimpose on the surrounding trees, and stones, and rich loamy earth.

His problem was the cold; and that was something about which only hard labor had anything to say. Eight thousand tribesmen and women had arrayed their clans under his banner and his vision for a new life in the land's green interior, but they had not anticipated the cold. It wasn't a fatal cold; not a chilling wind or the murderous white dust that falls on mountain tops. Yet what other peoples might consider the cool of the shade under the boughs of the trees of the Fearnmag, the Nechustani-Hadar had found to be uncomfortable and detrimental. Without the sun beating on their skin or the geothermal embrace of the Serpentway, the towering old growth of the woodland took their sacred warmth, but gave little back. With the warmth departed strength; with the strength departed the germinating sense of industry and kinship the clans were building with each other.

And so for this reason, Fathenal-Stands-With-Purpose had turned his people to labor to buy their superior future from the clutch of nature. The Hadar clans set up their camps all through the eastern perimeter of the Fearnmag; close enough to keep the unshaded heathland to their west instead of the sight-blocking forest all around. Their camps formed a narrow crescent of occupation from which smoke rose day and night; contained fires to warm the camps as they took their stone axes to clear open the land to the sun. Fathenal watched a group of his kinsmen struggling with a huge, straight log of a tree they were carting back to their camp. A leader though he may be, he was no stranger to toil; and put his own shoulder to the task with them. Much lumber would be needed, for their rugged, imperfect longhouses they sought to produce to replace their tents and pavilions. Lumber for houses; wood for fires; clear space, for sun and living. With labor comes dignity, and enrichment of life; and Fathenal was young enough to dare to believe that a host of people united in a dignified purpose could not help but succeed.

What Fathenal did not know is that he had declared war.

Kinro

2021-09-02, 06:03 PM

Valnas saw that, already, fighting and conflict and suffering had begun on the First World below. And this pained them. And it saw, too, that much of of the pain was caused by those coming to where they didn't belong and taking what shouldn't be theirs. And so, the lands would belong to the people to whom the lands belonged and from the strength of that declaration, those who owned land that was rightfully theirs could drawn power from it to defend it from invaders.

But to their own people, Valnas gave special care, and to them it taught powers, also, powers to defend them against even the mightiest of attackers, who would dare threaten the powerful beasts. And so, those who learned these new arts could create powerful barriers of force to deflect even the mighty tail swing of the strongest of sauropods.

Rollover
1 + 4 = 5

Bless (Defense of the Land)

If a person, tribe or people stand in righteous defence of land they rightfully own, they may draw power from the land. The longer the continuous claim, the more power can be drawn and the more difficult the people will be to move.

5 - 1 = 4

Create Mythical Sub-concept (Barrier Magic)

The magical ability to raise up powerful barriers of force around the caster. They always appear as immovable domes, but the stronger the caster, the larger or the stronger the dome can be. Two intersecting domes will either cancel each other at the intersection, should both casters wish it, or else a vertical plane where they meet.

moonfly7

2021-09-02, 08:56 PM

The Tempering of Kalvrankin Part 2

At the time of the attack on the Orchard by the Ice Elves, Kalvrankin had begun his journey to the Black Peak of Reason alongside Maktub, making their way to the coast of Abdita by sticking to the shallows and islands of the Garden which more or less bridged the gap of the ocean between the two lands.

Kal felt the orchard heave on his power, and on instinct he allowed it to follow through, trusting the judgment of the undead and metal trees to cater to his peoples needs. But as soon as the power left him he regretted the action, as moments later he felt the light of silver burn and melt on a creature until it's life gave out and it went howling into the wending. He heard, clear as day, the cries of vengance and anger, in his name. and Kalvrankin was, for the first time, displeased with those who followed him. But he did not strike out in anger, for his creation of the Orchard and the Undead in his last rage had tempered his responses, and so first he let a sliver of his diving consciousness float down to the orchard, and gather what had transpired.

What he saw turned his no-existant gut, but did not surprise him, sadly. He saw Tajir Dahiatan clad in a breast plate of bronze, with a great bearded war axe of his holy metal clasped in her hands. The Blade was covered in otherworldly blood, and indeed, so was her whole body. At first, all kalvrankin felt was anger, and as he felt it well up, he prepared to divert a fraction more of his power to make his voice and visage known.

And then Kal saw what Tajir was doing, and he stopped himself, and truly looked at the Orchard.

The village was not how he had left it, it was half ransacked, with food stores scattered across the ground, homes damaged, and tools strewn about. His people were not as he had left them either. Some were repeairing huts, some tending to wounds with True Tempered Gold, and others beggining the process of raising several First Stories who had fallen. And in the center of it all, stood Tajir, speaking in soft and kind tones as she guided the medics and repair teams to and fro, healing and fixing the worst of the damage first, then moving to the less critical areas.

And as he expanded his eyes, he saw groups of the Circle of Bronze and Bone moving outwards, on Tajir's orders, carrying with them whatever silver items they could scrounge quickly, as well as food, supplies, and True Tempered Gold for healing. These small groups had already begun their mission, stopping in the small villages of Al-Atfal that ahd been struck by the raiders, beggining to set up emergency medical tents and distributing food.

Even further out he saw the first relief parties reach the destroyed colony of the sligs, and the shocked guards who were trying to sift through the rubble, and mourn their dead. They were soon joined by the Circle, some of whom were themselves Undead Sligs, and they joined the guard as they looked for survivors and provided provisions for their journey inwards to tell the others of the colonies death. In time, Kal saw, word would travel back to the Orchard, and Tajir would go to offer aid to their long time friends, as she had before.

He turned his gaze back to Tajir, in her blashphemous armor, wielding her blashphemous axe, both of which broke the code he had layed out at the forming of the Circle, so fresh was it that it should still burn at the for front of her mind. He starred down at this disobedient, dangerous Al-Atfal, that had the potential to ruin all he stood for, that harped and pricked at his every action and questioned if a god should act in such a manner.

And as Kalvrankin stared at her, he smiled a soft, wan smile. and he allowed his viewing essence to take physical form, and be seen by firey woman.

“Tajir”

He spake, in a firm voice, his smile now wiped from his face. At the noise, the Al-Atfal jumped in shock, and turned to look at her god, her eyes betraying the slight fear and worry that roiled in her. She had hoped he wouldn't come, or would be his happy and careless self if he did, but now those hopes had been dashed.
“I believe we have something to discuss. Walk with me”

She nodded and followed, unwilling to deny or confront him. Certainly not in front of the others, lest they think it becoming to argue with a god.

"My lord, I can explain-"

She began, once they had walked down the orchards slopes and out onto the cleared plane around it.

“Explain what, Tajir? Explain the blood all over your clothes and face? The armor and weapon made of bronze that you know the codes explicitly forbade? Or perhaps the blessing you called for that makes silver the burn and boil a single race of people.”

Tajir's face grew red at the calm, casual dressing down she was recieving, and she repsonded in anger.
"I was protecting our people!"
She spat with a frown and glare
"We were beset by creatures from the Mists, my lord. They came and they tore and they killed. And you want to talk about my faults? We have a brother and a sister on their first stories who have been taken from us, never to be risen for their second. and another brother whose second story was cut short by those, those monsters! Deep your codes if they stop me from protecting the only things I care about. I wont let my family fall, my lord, even if it means that I must."
She finished this with planting both hands on her hips and staring defiantly into the calm sockets of Kalvrankin.

“Are you quite done my dear?”
before she could open her mouth he nodded.

“Excellent! Then listen to me for a moment.
I came here expecting to punish and scream, as you no doubt expected me too, and I found a sobering sight. My people, the family I had made for myself, terrified. Some lost to me, some truly dead. I saw my Holy Gift meant for peace used for violence. And I saw a bright young follower covered in the blood of others.”

Tajir's eyes cast towards her feet.

“But I also saw something you couldn't, can't see. I've seen what could have been. The Circle struck down to the last man, the orchard weeping and lonely, the village completely razed. I've seen our neighbors fall under the threat of an enemy that can come from anywhere and that has no weaknesses.

But that didn't happen, thanks to you and your heresy, young one.”

Tajir shifts from foot to foot under his skeletal smile.

“Because you disobeyed me, because you turned my gift into a weapon, there is still a village to protect, and still people to care for. Because of your actions and conviction, these Andlitir now have a weakness, and we have a hope. And because you were here, ready to step forward and lead with compassion and care, there is now food for the weary villagers of the Al-Atfal who survived these blitz attacks, and extra hands to help clear the rubble in the sligs lost settlement. Because of you and your reckless, passionate spirit, there is hope and joy to be found on this day of tragedy.”

“Now do not misunderstand me, young one, I still very much dissaprove of your brutal nature, and your pragmatism and desires for me to act like some mystic force chill me to the marrow, but I recognise that I need you.”

"Need me?"

She asked with a frown, staring up at her god.

he nodded.

“Yes, I need you. I'm not the kind of god who will not admit when he's wrong. I recognise that I lack the ability to be desiscive and violent when the need arises, sometimes you need to be aggressive and sometimes fights are inevitable. I would, in my desire to maintain peace, lead our people to ruin. So I require a Temper. Just as Flame gives the right stress to metal to make it better, so to will you and I change each other. You are Tajir Dahiatan no longer, Now you are Tajir Kalvrankin's Temper!”

She looked at him in awe and dropped to one knee, axe presented before her as the world pulsed a deep bronze in her eyes, and suddenly she felt...changed. She looked up to see a mirthful grin pulling at his metal face.

“And High Priest too, dear. Because I know you want my "religion" to be "official" ” He laughed at that, and waved to her before she could retaliate.
[SIZE=3]“"Keep the others safe while I'm gone, My Temper. And don't worry, you'll find I'm only a thought away.”

And with that Kal's sliver of consciousness dissapeared back to were he still walked with Maktub.

“What a spitfire.”

He muttered fondly.

Create Hero(Kalvrankin's Temper)2 AP: Kalvrankins Temper, or simply The Temper, is a title bestowed upon a follower of the god who displays aspects contrary to his doctrines, but still sticks to the core beliefs and tries to make the world a better place through their actions. They Balance his overly generous and forgiving nature with a more viscious and biting side. They are linked to their god via a mental connection which is not blaocked by bronze, allowing the Temper to give council to their lord, and vice versa, nearly instantanously. The Temper also can command the wild Skeletons their lord has raised as if they were well trained and obedient pets, and is blessed with a keeneye for metal working, Specifically with Bronze. Tempers are always masters of Necromancy and True Temper, but whether this is because of their blessing from Kalvrankin or simply the ambitious and dedicated nature of Tempers is unknown. True Temper(7/10)
Former AP: 5
5-2=3
Current AP:3

zzzzzzzz414

2021-09-02, 09:16 PM

Animals were important; this was known to the ents of Fearnmag. Though not blessed with the gifts of Name and Self as they were, they were part of the creation placed upon the world by FEARNA, who was OGAM, and were as much a part of the great cycle of the earth as they were. To destroy and undermine them was to destroy the forest and themselves with it; their places and ways of living were to be preserved and nourished, even if doing otherwise would bring an immediate benefit to the trees and themselves. Even when the animals killed some of their number. The beasts of earth, water and sky could not speak the language of wood and root, and so were cut off from the knowledge of Self and Awareness that flowed from OGAM. It was not right or good to punish the beaver and gopher for their ignorance; they could only accept that the loss was necessary for the balance of the world, and know that their fallen elders would be reborn in the shoots and saplings of the new.

And so, when the first flicker came from the western edge of Fearnmag, a mundane tree felled and gone silent, the Ents did not act. For it was but one tree and, though a bit far from where the beavers normally plied their craft, not a greatly unexpected event. And when another tree fell silent, and another, and another, and then an Ent with them, they did not act. For disease or fire, though tragic and painful, were common enough; and once it stopped, the forest would regrow from the wound, if properly watched and treated.

But it did not stop. It grew, faster and faster, a sudden, smoking wave of darkness and silence that spread into a vast crescent along the forest's edge, a conflagration of death that could not be satiated - but the last terrified warnings that filtered into the heart of Fearnmag were not of the blazing and consuming death of fire, or the slow and wasting death of sickness, but the sharp and brutal death of beast, delivered by claws and teeth of stone. But this wave of death did not recede, did not pull back and allow regrowth as fire or sickness or beast did. It only ever grew, snuffing out the lights of life one by one - converting them into smoke and structures of dead flesh that outsized the beavers' by great magnitudes.

The deliberation of what to do with the beast-fire was slow, even by the standards of the Ents. Some, especially those closer to the edge, urged immediate action to maintain the balance of Fearnmag, and preserve their own lives and those of the ones they loved. Others, especially those closer to the heart, urged patience, to ensure that they themselves did not ruin the balance. Lines were drawn, crossed and redrawn, and the root-fungus webs of thought and nutrient beneath the surface stirred as they had not in centuries. But when the great Ent that would one day be called "Alvrainne" fell silent - and with zir, uncounted acres of the forest that had been connected to them through zir roots - even the most cautious of voices among them could no longer speak of waiting and watching. And so, summoning every part of their collective magic, the Ents began to act.

The first year for the Nechustani-Hadar was rich and bountiful; the game was plenty, as were the roots and berries, surging from soil far more fertile than the sterile black sands of their homeland. The second, too, was bountiful, as was the third, and fourth, and fifth, and many more after. Many new children were born and raised in the new settlements, and new longhouses were constructed to accomodate their growing needs and numbers. A few even began to experiment with cultivation as they carved out and cleared swathes of forest, observing how fallen seeds and fruits transformed into new plants, and seeking to grow their own, in order to reduce the amount of time needed for gathering. The Nechustani truly believed that they had begun to build paradise - a promised land that would feed their children for generations more. None yet knew the forest very well, the small signs that could have foretold what awaited them. But even if they had, there was precious little they could have ever done about it.

The ways and thoughts of the Ents were slow, broad, and all-encompassing. When an Ent fed, it was not from one place, but from a thousand, a great web of roots drawing nutrients from the ground and from siblings scattered across many acres. When an Ent spoke, it was not of one discrete thing, but of a thousand, a broad tapestry of small connections and ideas given out to dozens. When an Ent warred, it was not with one stick or spear, but with a thousand, delicate growths spread precisely and carefully over great distance, doing a thousand delicate things. When an Ent killed, it was not one individual that they sought to kill; but rather the whole and source of the problem, torn out root and branch.

The first thing to go was the water. It was an especially dry summer, and the reserves the Nechustani normally stored were already running low when the river that had brought them life suddenly vanished - reduced to a modest flow, then a trickle, then a bone-dry riverbed. Many journeyed far to recover more, but found nothing; every pool was dry or fouled, and they could not find the river again. The carefully-placed blockage was many miles away, though they would never learn of this. Then went the food. Every bush was bare, every root plant gone or shriveled. Every single crop they had planted failed, their roots strangled and starved by woody growths beneath the soil. The wild game, once so fat and plentiful, was nowhere to be found; and in their place, the hunters found something else emerging from the woods. Insects, thousands of them, came from the forests, stinging, swarming, devouring, lusting for blood and sowing plague and death as they took it. Closely behind them came the predators: the hyenas and leopards and wild dogs, starved and desperate, their numbers swollen with generously-provided fat years. And then went the very ground they walked upon. Lodge after lodge collapsed, swallowed as the earth itself opened up to devour them, made unstable by the carefully-grown roots and carefully-placed deposits of water beneath the surface, the generous land rotting into sinkholes and quicksand before their very eyes.

The ways of the Ents were slow. Broad. All-encompassing. They did not, could not, distinguish the individual flames of the beast-fire, could not distinguish between adult or child, hale or infirm, guilty or innocent. They did not speak the language of air and water; they did not hear the moans of hunger and thirst, the screams of pain and terror as the beasts descended and ate their fill, the desperate prayers as the world and all they had built seemed to collapse around the Nechustani-Hadar.

They simply bore witness to their work - and, once the beast-fire finally subsided and died, began to regrow, as they always had.

Breitheamh

2021-09-03, 09:01 PM

It is written...

Al-Atfal of Al-Kitab had changed. Slowly... Over years, generations even. It is the way of Story, that Our Stories must grow and change, and so we must as well. Their first encounter with Death had sombered their Stories, and they sought Meaning in the truth of Narrative. Their first Tragedy brought them together, but tore them apart. There had to be progress, there had to be change...

As all things must, as the tides, as the Calling, as the Soul moves through its cycles, as even the Spirit becomes new each day, all Names are renamed, all Lives relived, the same, but different, each time different, Al-Atfal of Al-Kitab changed. Where peace and harmony had breathed among them, now anger and war mingled too. Where contentment and safety had once been all they understood, now they knew so much more. They did not wish to lose those things that made the Story Good, but they now knew this world was larger than the story they were telling. And they wished to go forth, and see the Story WE Are Telling.

They prepared, they counted and rationed, invented and developed. Small and large, they found the means to begin the next chapter of their Story. It began with those who wished to find their old friend, the one Who-Believes, the wisest among them. But none besides he had ever crossed to the mystic island of Sailloch. None could swim that far. But they believed it could be done, and so they did it, taking branches, vines, grasses, everything that could unify a platform to stand on as it carried them across the water, until the first of them put their own feet on the loamy soil of the home of the first Dryad.

Once they realized the potential of their creativity, they began to prepare for the journey outward, to explore, to see, to learn, to realize, and to Understand.

Create Mundane Concept (Shipbuilding) Life (Conservation) 5/10
This starts small, with rudimentary rafts to get to Sailloch. Then it grows from there; canoes from hollowed-out tree trunks, then pontoon rafts, then rudder attachments, and then the beginnings of sails.
The use of True-Tempered metals and help from the industrious Sligs ensure that this new concept is shared among all of those races native to Piedwald who wish to use it to ensure their exploration and understanding of the world.

The Saga of Belief

Who-Believes had experienced something, had even helped to create something new. He was finally beginning to understand the true power that lay in him, that lay in anyone who decided to Speak with Belief and Conviction, but there was something he felt from the Tree that was Not Just a Tree that he knew was the missing piece to truly Understand this world and Name for its Good.

"It is not your name," he conceded, his eyes sparkling at the new being, somehow young and old simultaneously. "Pray, if you Trust me, will you help me Understand Who You Are?"

He bowed in humility at what he knew could be an enormous request, to ask someone tell you their Story, in all its Fullness and Truth. And he sat at the feet of the Dryad, and chose to wait patiently. He Believed that he would be satisfied with food and drink, and that he could Choose to be Still, as the Trees ever were, and Trust in Enough.

He-Believed, and He Trusted the Story...

zzzzzzzz414

2021-09-04, 01:17 AM

Their leaves were green.

The first dryad blinked once, twice. The knowledge seemed so...rote. Obvious. Ordinary. And yet it was also the most utterly alien thing they had ever experienced. They had not even known what green was moments ago. And yet, there it was, as obvious a quality of the world as wetness, or wind, or sun, or silence. Once the speech they had come into being to express left them, the dryad fumbled for a moment, attempting to come to terms with the fact that...they had come into being. The great and horrible sharp clarity of undeniable purpose had passed, and now they were simply here, thrust by...themself?..into a world that was at once overwhelming and empty. Sensations they had never known assaulted them from all directions, somehow both horrifyingly alien and bafflingly ordinary. Color, light, taste, smell, sound, motion, a dragonfly darting across the surface of a nearby pond, a chorus of frogs somewhere in the distance, this creature in front of them that looked alarmingly like themselves making sounds they could not understand, so much, everywhere, all happening so very quickly, too much and yet, not nearly enough. They could not feel the earth beneath their rootless feet, could not taste the wind and sun and moisture, could not hear the vast murmur of the forest. They glanced up at the great trunks all around them, but saw no friends, no siblings, just great silent towers of dead brown stone. Even their own thoughts felt strange to them - so fast, so straight, so slippery. The thoughts of a beast.

And yet...they were thoughts. The first dryad was a beast, or something like one. And yet they still knew Name and Self and Awareness, the gifts of SAILLE, who is OGAM. This was impossible. And yet it was true. And if this was true, then...the dryad looked at the one before them, the being who they realized now must have spoken the NAME that had instilled such wrongness. They realized, with a start, that they had been standing agape for quite some time, and now the being had sat down in the grass and was looking at them, patiently but expectantly.

The first dryad stepped forward cautiously, unsteadily. "Who...are you? Do you have a-" Suddenly, they were overcome with a fatigue in their very pit of being, and the words withered and died in their throat, choking them as they realized something they had not even known was possible. They could not Speak freely as they...once had? as their self did? The power that they remembered flowing through every fiber of their flesh was gone now, faded, limited. They coughed and sputtered, and as rough versions of the syllables of the True Language tumbled out, stripped of the magic that gave them their power and the whole of their meaning, the first word of Dryadic was spoken. "...name?"

The dryad stopped, putting their hand to their throat, as they caught their breath, trying to gesture to the other being to stop for a moment. They could feel their strength returning, but they would need to be sparing with their words, it seemed. At least until they could learn enough of this other being's...language, they supposed it must be...to respond in kind. But what to say? The dryad looked, and noted that he still seemed to be...waiting. Listening, as if wanting to understand and know. This was not like speaking among their siblings, the dryad realized, the children of OGAM who knew each other from first spring to final winter. This was an entirely new being, unrooted as they themselves now were. Perhaps an...introduction was in order then. A simple sum of themselves, that they may know each other.

The dryad pointed to themselves, and summoned forth the magical power for a single word of the True Language:

"Cairrelach."

To the dryad that would be called "Cairrelach", the word was a relatively mundane and simple thing.

To the one called "Who-Believes", it was the single fullest and most powerful Name they had ever heard.

Breitheamh

2021-09-04, 06:15 AM

The words of the Dryad at first carried such Completeness that Who-Believes was struck with their absolute Truth. He could feel the power radiating from the creature in just those few simple Words, and though there was a part of his mind that recognized their form and structure as completely alien to his own language, he understood every piece of their meaning so profoundly, so richly, so fully, that it took the breath from his lungs for a moment as he stared in wonder up at the being in front of him.

And then that...Language stopped. The creature looked fatigued, and confused, and Who-Believes put out a hand to offer some aid, though it became clear that the creature just needed to catch its breath. His concern mingled with the anticipation of what this creature might say next, creating a cascade of anxious thoughts, spiraling through his heart and mind, and then...

They were stilled...

As the being before him Spoke its Name.

The energy thrummed through Who-Believes, drowning out the anxiety and filling him with a pure joy of knowledge. When the creature spoke, he suddenly understood this Cairrelach in all the Dryad's most perfect fullness, beauty, and truth, and this understanding brought forth a loving connection, that needed only a word from him to seal it in this unending moment.

He smiled unashamedly at Cairrelach, and replied, gesturing to himself and attempting to match those most pure syllables he had just heard, "I am Who-Believes."

And thus it was complete. This frozen moment that Named the whole world such that these spoken words were utterly and inescapably True. Who-Believes caught his breath, knowing the same fatigue as Cairrelach. He had added the first two words almost out of sheer habit, but even more so out of an innate understanding that to do so had solidified Who He Is even more fully.

He-Believed Completely, and He Trusted This Story...

ezekielraiden

2021-09-04, 08:41 AM

The Wheel in the Sky

Arkhos continued to watch his children develop. Their proud structures of stone, slowly becoming beautiful with time, rising from the earth like artificial mountains. Soon, they were building structures for all sorts of purposes, not merely for worship and clutching, and this pleased him. Still, despite the delays it caused, they held the great trees sacred. Often, instead of roads upon the earth itself, they built great stone causeways, soaring over the trees below.

Where trees had to be felled, they did so with prudence: symbolic as they were of the path to enlightenment, each felled tree was a price paid, a perspective lost, which had to be compensated for. Many would conduct a ceremony for each felling. Some would count the losses, and for every tree taken, plant two in their stead elsewhere. Stumbling and simple, but earnest in their desire to give back the gift that was given.

Arkhos was glad of these things, for he had seen the devastation wrought by the children of OGAM, how the earth itself could reject those who did not honor the land. Though he did not understand their ways, the message was clear, writ not in stone or in blood, but in starvation and bone-dry thirst: care for the land, or the land shall slay you utterly, to the last, and none will know your names, or mark your passing. He would not, could not allow the Quetzpal'in to face the same fate, their light snuffed out by folly.

The wheel of law turned, as the sun turned through the sky, contemplating. There needed to be more than just information, as shared through the Codex Perpetuus...but that, too, could serve. Indeed, as Arkhos looked down, he saw the way. But there was other work to do first.

Going among his faithful, he flowed as the golden ribbon. Their faces aglow with more than just the light of his passage, the Quetzpal'in looked on in wonder as the Woven Oath wove among them, going toward their great edifice, the Pyramid of the Sun.

The Garden-City

"I have seen your labors, my children, and they honor me, and the light toward which your forebears reached. I would reward you yet further for this, a new rising, a new height. Behold!" Near an exterior opening of the pyramid, the ribbon of light circled, at first slowly and widely, but ever faster with each turning, ever tighter. Finally, when the brilliance began to approach that of Kairos itself, the circle resolved into a disc--a disc of gold, simultaneously somehow lens and mirror both. The Solar Disc, around which the symbols that represented Arkhos turned.

"I give to you this symbol of my love and my calling: the Solar Disc. Under its light, you and the lands you walk shall be blessed."

One of the priests, daring to stand before her god, looked up. "What blessing do you give us, great father?"

Though Arkhos could not smile, for he had no body, let alone a face, he almost would have anwyay. This one, brave enough to face something powerful and terrible and speak up. "To you who have the boldness to ask, as your unthinking forebears did, I grant the Blessing of Vigor. So long as any among you, or others, dwell in Kairos' radiance and dare to rise higher, your lives shall be long and enriched--it shall not fulfill all of your needs, but you shall find the weight of hunger and thirst, of sleep and time, shall not hang so heavily upon you. The blessing is upon you."

As if to represent the blessing in flesh, the scales of many Quetzpal'in took on a gilded edge. In direct sunlight, those scales would eventually come to look almost like jewels. Those who shunned the light for overlong, however, would begin to dull, until anything but direct sunlight would leave them looking washed-out, diluted. A physical reminder of the blessing.

Though the Quetzpal'in were the first to know the blessing for what it was, Arkhos placed it on all of Kairos' light, not merely that which chanced to strike Anahuac or the bodies of Quetzpal'in. To animals, it had no effect, and the depths of the sea could block it just as easily as they blocked Kairos' rays. But for any with Will, with the power to be a law unto themselves, the ardent desire to do better than before--that was enough, for any who desired this desired Arkhos, whatever else they sought to do or make. For all deserved the chance to try, even if they should fall short.

"But hearken unto me, my children. This world is not simply yours, to take from until there is nothing left. There are great forces at work, and your duties to the world, to each other, and to me cannot be fulfilled if wanton destruction is all you sow, for wanton destruction shall then be all you reap." Arkhos spoke in tones the Quetzpal'in had never heard, of loss and fear, not for himself, but for them. "Turn your gaze to the well of knowledge I gave to you. Learn from it, the secrets of tending the land, not to despoil and pillage, but to enrich that land and yourselves in the doing. Heed these lessons, and you shall prosper long, in this place and others."

The Quetzpal'in did as they were bade, and Arkhos withdrew from them, to see what they would do. The priestess that had stood up led her people in the study of the Codex, and began to learn of how to tend and shape the plants--not merely for brutish cultivation, but to make the land richer at the same time as it brought forth its bounty. Many of the principles were not unknown to them, as they had already tried to incorporate the Tree, their ladder of enlightenment, into their buildings. But the fullness of the wisdom had not been apparent to them before this, and with new light, new perspective, they saw many more things they could do. Thus did their early cities, once decorated stone, become alive with gardens. Thus did the first true city of the Quetzpal'in arise, from the gardens in and around the Pyramid of the Sun, and they named it Tollan, for there, people were as thick as the reeds that grew, wild-tame, in the city's gardens.

To a Distant Shore

While he watched them, Arkhos was also watching others. He saw the dark mountain, raised far across the sea. And he saw others of his kind and OGAM's, those who could shape the world around them, call forth children and teach them. With such devastation wrought by OGAM's children, perhaps it was high time to speak to these others. Without drawn lines, such devastation loomed too close for Arkhos' liking, ready to cut short his children ere they had just begun to rise.

Current AP: 0+4 (from rollover 9/28) = 4
Create Greater Utility Artifact, discounting Bless (4 AP, discounted by Loom of Light): the Solar Disc [Sun (Revelation) 8/10] Another artifact usually found in the Pyramid of the Sun, though it can also be found floating within the circle of light and symbols that is Arkhos' "natural" form. Sometimes like a mirror, sometimes like a lens, occasionally a light source all on its own, its properties and behavior seem to shift as Arkhos' needs arise. It is always used to grant boons, however.

Bless (free, reduced by Solar Disc): The Blessing of Vigor. So long as any sapient creature spends at least one hour of the day in direct sunlight, performing any activity that improves itself or its lot, that creature benefits from this blessing. Such activities can include exercise, creating art or goods, joining others to create larger projects, or actively studying/meditating/etc.
Creatures that benefit from the Blessing of Vigor have their natural aging process delayed, though not enough to make them immortal. Someone who made sure to get the blessing every day for their whole adult life might live up to twice as long as a completely unaffected average member of that species. Affected creatures also need about half the food and water they normally would for that day. They still have to eat and drink regularly, and they begin to starve in the normal amount of time. The blessing simply makes the food and water they consume more effective, it does not actually replace the food not otherwise eaten.
Underwater creatures that live close enough to the surface to get more-or-less direct sunlight can still benefit from the Blessing, but anywhere the sun's light can't reach, the blessing is inaccessible.

Create Mundane Concept (free, reduced by Codex Perpetuus): Horticulture. The Quetzpal'in now make gardens out of every place they settle, even only lightly. These gardens serve three purposes: to provide food and other useful things, to beautify cities and their surrounding land, and to keep the Quetzpal'in aware of the cost that their settlements can take on the land around them. They will gladly share their gardening techniques with anyone reasonably peaceful, as they do not wish anyone else to endure whatever the horror was that Arkhos is trying to protect them from.

Remaining AP: 4-4=0 (prior to Rollover 9/4)

In-progress domains:
Sun (Revelation) 8/10
War (Tactics) 2/10

canjowolf

2021-09-04, 08:23 PM

The sun rose. The sun set. Peoples populated the world. Civilization bloomed. Knowledge and culture spread like vines, further strangling and shackling the primal elementals.

In the Garden too did these changes unfold. Shadow enjoyed the chorus of the minds of the Phihid but in the dreamrealm there were many more types of minds out of Shadow's reach. The Kikiri could fly far and observe these alien beings from the air, filling Shadow's dreams with examples of walking, talking, singing beings.

So it was that Shadow imagined a being in their image. Something which could travel and speak with others. But it also needed to be able to communicate with Shadow, the Phihid, and the other plants. Shadow drew upon the power of Blackleaf, and created the first of the Gardeners.

The Gardeners were large and lithe. Greater in size than the birds and the wolves, though smaller than the bears and the great apes. Their hands possessed fingers and thumbs, that they might grasp tools. Small claws, that they might climb heights. Their faces held large eyes to see in the dark jungle, and small trunks, to filter out its smells and poisons. Slow and cautious, they were made to survive the Garden's many dangers.

Shadow cultivated the first Gardeners and the most forward thinking of the Phihid to form a society which valued the passing of knowledge and the worship of Blackleaf.

However, not long after the creation of these emissaries, foreign beings came to the Garden. They seemed to be born of the mists which hung low and heavy in the Garden. Beings of cold in a world without winter. Beings seeking the bounties of the Garden, as Shadow sought those of the Otherworld.

When the beings of Mist came, they brought the peoples of the Garden to their dark world of ice. Though it was cold and harsh, it was empty, so the Phihid cast out their spores. Was the land of Nightmares so different than the land of Dreams?

The Gardeners, charged as they were with contacting the Alien, attempted to communicate with these creatures of mist and ice, offering a way to exist and endure within the warm, wet world of the Garden.

AP: 1 held + 4 gained = 5 total
-2: Create Race - Gardeners (Trade: Addiction)
-2: Create Civilization - Name to come when people who care about spoken names interact with it. Shadow's folk just call it Civilization (Trade: Addiction)
Blackleaf seeks to become a god of trades on which people come to rely for their survival. A god not of gold and silk, but of food for the (non-existent) dwarves in their sunless holes, water to the desert city that has overgrown its oasis.
1 AP remains

Razade

2021-09-05, 04:44 AM

The Wellspring, another Root

As the first of the Wellspring's roots began to grow out between the spaces and to the other realms. First to the icy hells where hunters roam and now to the Realm where the souls of those of mortal make made their home. The Wellspring's waters cascaded through the bridge, a river flowing into The Wending where the Deluge's song and storm could be heard and felt. The dead who sought to travel this mighty river were protected from those who sought to harm them and all those living who traveled through the Boundary would find themselves too protected from the Land of the Dead.

Bridge Plane (The Wellspring to The Wending): -2AP: A boundary river flows between the mighty lakes and oceans of The Wellspring to the Wending. The Boundary's waters are cool and refreshing though give no sustenance to those who drink it. [The Planes (Portals) 9/10]

Bless (Travel of Spirit and Body) -1AP: Those who travel the Boundary river are protected from the machinations of both God and Mortal alike for they have the blessing of the Deluge that watches from the storms above. [The Planes (Portals 10/10)]

The Deluge gains a new domain and a new title.

Hieorphant of The Rootway

zzzzzzzz414

2021-09-05, 01:47 PM

Many weeks passed beneath the boughs of Sailloch as Cairrelach and this strange beast called Who-Believes - an Atfal, it seemed - continued to try to understand each other. Though they shared an understanding of the True Language, the effort to use it was too exhausting for much use - and so they ever so-slowly began to piece together understanding of each others' languages - him teaching the basics of the language of Al-Kitab, them putting together the pieces of the magic-less true speech that would become Dryadic - teaching themselves almost as much as they taught their companion. And so, in this way, Cairrelach and Who-Believes began to learn more of each others' worlds.

Cairrelach learned that, unlike what the ents of Sailloch had always known, the gifts of Name, Self and Awareness did not flow solely from the roots of OGAM to zir children, but from elsewhere as well - from other great gods alike with OGAM in power, who had walked the earth breathing spirit into the beasts of the ground. Creating great hosts of beings like Cairrelach and Who-Believes elsewhere, beyond the shores of Sailloch who walked the lands the ents could not see.

And Who-Believes learned more of the lands of Sailloch; that what they had thought was a tree was in fact an Ent, and that this being was not unique, but one of a great collective that covered the whole of the island; who possessed the spark of Self as they did, but who spoke beneath the ground, in the language of wood and root. He learned of the knowledge-giving substance that flowed from the roots of SAILLE, who is OGAM; the precious sap that separated them from the mundane trees and, the Ents had thought, from all the quickling beasts of the ground, sea and sky as well. And he learned of OGAM zirself, Grandmother of Earth, Grandfather of Forest, ze who, according to the old legends of the Ents, rested far beneath the earth, and had created the all the land of the world when ze awoke from zer great slumber.

Much time passed in this way; and as it did, the companions of Who-Believes made their preparations and their wooden sailcrafts, setting out to finally explore the empty land of Sailloch. But as they did, others were not idle. The Ents of Sailloch had not failed to notice the unprecedented thing that had happened to the one of their number known as Cairrelach. The whole of the forest stirred with silent consternation, amazement and excitement. For there to be Ents-Yet-Not-Ents beyond their shores, beings possessed of no roots yet somehow drinking in the gifts of Self, Name and Awareness, was beyond everything they had ever known to be true. And yet it was truth - a truth that made their path now very clear. For it was known that it was not the will of OGAM that her children, and the rest of the bounty of creation, should be left isolated and stunted, but should grow, and speak, and be connected to all that is. Cairrelach showed the rest the insight that had been granted them by OGAM and the strange Named beast, that unbearable but necessary sharpness that would allow them to Speak into the world, to walk upon the surface of the earth as the beasts of the ground did. And so, when the Al-Kitab made landfall upon the isle of Sailloch, they did not find it empty; but rather, were greeted by a great number of strange beings. Creatures of wood and bark who walked on animal legs - some on two, some on four - but all with top halves shaped like Atfal - and, even more bizarrely, though they did not speak, seemed to at least partially understand them.

Zelphas

2021-09-05, 08:35 PM

Realization and Change

The confusion up above continued to mutate, and the creature deep beneath noted what it could understand of its mutations. Some of the small things up above had begun returning to the Deep on their own, and this was good; but others rejected the Call, moving away from the water in their attempt to escape it. They had connected the Call to the water, it seems; perhaps it was time to vary the signal. The Calling made a slight modification to its namesake, drawing on the power from the first Landeater's frequent nest.

Oh, but of course, such a call to visit would not be welcome without a welcoming party! The Calling had at least learned that much from its understanding of what was above. It cast about for a proper place to set its welcoming party. A nearly untouched landmass caught its attention, a structure already built with large caves and mostly untouched. Though it was loath to do so, it drew Fire from the earth and set it racing within the bones of this continent; all things will return to the Deep, even Fire.

A welcome party is no good without hosts, so the Calling set about making proper ones for the people who would wish to delve deep. It took a newly-born Landeater and raised it up out of the deeps, keeping it mostly compressed until much of its expanding bulk became nearly as hard as the bone spurs natural to it. Many of the small things had a similar structure, so the Calling split its mass into limbs, two large back ones to hold its weight and four thinner front ones to dig and reach and grasp and hold. It lidded its large white eyes with bone and arched its long tail, blunting it so that it swung clublike behind its towering size. Many of the small things seemed to run from other small things with large mouths and sharp teeth, so the Calling stretched the thing's muzzle to a small point and removed its teeth entirely, giving it a long tongue and strong suction instead. The small things were so confused; the noises they made often weren't understood by other small things. The Calling made the once-Landeater able to speak without noise, taking as inspiration its own powers and some of the not-as-small things on their own land.

The host was finished, but the Calling did not have only one purpose for its new thing. It made them covetous of the things beneath the ground, so that they would dig deeply and often. It removed their hunger but multiplied their thirst, so that they would seek out the greatest source of water. And finally, it made them remove the salt that they took in painlessly and naturally, so that there was only one true source of water that would slake their need.

The Seadrinkers took to the dark caves of their land, making roads to the sea and tunneling ever deeper. They did not venture often to the surface; when they did, when the cold stole their moisture away and slowed their limbs, they called it Thirtha-Din, the Deadly Thirst.

0 AP + 4 AP = 4 AP

Curse (Cave Calling) - 0 AP (The Pit of Hunger): For an average of about three generations among mortal races, there is a sudden upswing of adventurers and explorers who seek to delve into the caves and other deep places of the land, seeing what they can find and mapping out what they discover. Since many of these would-be-spelunkers have more enthusiasm than sense, the amount of people lost in caves has increased as well.

Create Land (Thirtha-Din) -1 AP (Shared with OGAM): The Northern Continent has been heated from within by volcanic activity, creating pockets of hot springs and deep, warm magma-heated caves and tunnels. Visitors to this land come away with the name "Thirtha-Din" on their minds as though placed there, though they aren't sure where the name comes from. (Domain Progression: Disaster (Invasion) 7/10)

Create Legendary Sub-Life (Seadrinkers, from Landeaters) -3 AP: Seadrinkers resemble enormous hunched humanoids twenty to thirty feet wide and tall covered in purple-grey bone, with blunt tails and long twisting snouts. They can speak telepathically and are fully sapient, driven by the conflicting desires of a hunger for precious metals and deep ores and a thirst for seawater. Seadrinkers sweat salt in crystalline form, lining their caverns in white. For now, their thirst keeps them in the caves near the shoreline, though a few of them have realized that using their size, strength, and telepathy to snare other creatures to bring them water has its benefits... (Domain Progression: Disaster (Invasion) 10/10)

Disaster (Invasion) Domain Get!

4 AP - 4 AP = 0 AP Remaining

Feathersnow

2021-09-05, 08:39 PM

Slingid:
Tloc of Glimblisk

Four survivors of 47 workers and a Queen. It was grim. Each of the four hunters were singled out at gatherings, both focus of attention and fear.

One was an original founder, and he rejoined his original cadre, much to the chagrin of his fellows, who had pushed him to leave to secure higher rank. That cadre schismed shortly after.

Two others were young, born to the dead Queen in her two most recent clutches. They faired better. They were not yet psychologically mature, and their flexibility let them fit in cadres under their aunts' hives. In time, the other Sligs almost forgot their origins.

But Tloc, the oldest surviving son of the dead hive, was different. He was old enough to be regarded as fully mature, and he just did not fit in. Some part of him didn't want to. He was assigned, to the annoyance of the other Sligs, to permanently be part of the honor guard of She-Who-Was-Ever-A-Part, while the others rotated monthly.

One day, though he looked at her most prized possession, the knife of the God. The Preparing Knife, and was inspired. He took it his hands, and it did not resist, rather it changed...

It became a brush, and with it he painted a great mural on the wall of the Queen's great longhouse. It told of the hope of the lost colony, its fall, and of loss. It said, without words, never to forget. At the same time, though, it stood testament to what it was that was lost.

It would take years for the best painters to recapture even part of what they saw wroght as they stared at the work of divine artifice. And Tloc would not be there to help them.

He replaces the Preparing Knife it its holder and walked out. He no longer had a place here, he never had. He went to seek...

Ap 1+4= 5

Create Hero- Tloc of Glimblisk. 2 AP
A Slig Worker, he is one of a handful of survivors from the lost hive of Glimblisk.
Society (pioneering) 6/10

Create mundane concept- Painting (artifact use)
The use of pigments to create artistic renderings designed to evoke emotions and instruct truths

Remaining AP 3

MrAbdiel

2021-09-06, 05:18 AM

The Threefold Tragedy

This is the third Tragedy; the Tragedy of those Nechustani people groups who built the first Nechustani city Kedash on the northern coast of Abdita.

The Tragedy of Nechustani-Kedash

Nazara-Trades-In-Flesh walked the streets of Kedash, as so many of her kind had done. She, of course, was Nechustani-Nuaharani; she had no desire to leave the black sands and obsidian caverns long term however impressive the accomplishments of the Nechustani-Kedashi were fabled to be. She was an restless rover by nature, orbiting the homesands and striking out to far places in Abdita only to return to the Serpentways in the end; and this diversion to the fabled city on the sea would be no exception.

And it -was- impressive. The Kedashi had settled on the coast, but not so far away from resources that they would be confined to shacks and yurts and log houses like the other tribes. Nazara had passed the open limestone quarry on her way through, and marvelled that any creatures could cut and move such stones for their own purposes. But they had cut them, and worked them, over the last ten years; a force of almost twelve thousand Nechustani-Kedash having set out to establish the colony, and did so first by transforming themselves into a beacon of civilization among the hidebound and tribal folk.

Beneath Nazara’s feet, great mosaics of white and black stone paved streets in which one could walk twenty abreast. Humble, squared buildings of the same white stone looked to provide adequate shelter from the elements for individual families, rather than bundled tribes; and rectangular projections from their tops suggested a means for smoke to escape from an internal fireplace. More impressive buildings featured toward the city’s centre, their entry ways propped up with what to Nazara’s eyes were supernaturally cylindrical columns upon which she could not detect the ragged marks of stone-on-stone carving. Most impressive of all, a four-tiered ziggurat of unstained limestone dominated the city’s heart, with the first two tiers engraved with hundreds of meters of historical pictographic relief in an abstracted style Nazara found both impenetrably marvellous and disturbingly advanced. The third tier featured the beginnings of more such engravings, aborted before they had advanced more than six meters on that level’s walls. Likely, the artistic project had been abandoned at the same time the city had been.

Nazara turned a full circle on her heels, breathing deep lungfuls of saline air. A whole city, as great as any that she could imagine having been made by mortal hands; and no a solitary citizen - neither young nor old, maid or matron, living or dead. The silence had a thickness here; unsettling in the extreme, pooling in a place that should banish it with the clamor of children, and the gabble of market trading, and even the surrusus of thousands merely breathing. She had walked the streets, and the steps of the ziggurat; and all she had heard were the distant call of seabirds, the writhing sea, her own footsteps, and the beat of her now racing heart.

“Where are you?!” Barely an echo, muted by the churn of distant waves. Back to the ziggurat now, to look from the high ground again; past the reliefs that showed the Seven Recitations writ in stone, grading from wonderful on the lowest level to fine on the second and sloppy, disinterested on the aborted third. Had the artists grown tired? Distracted?

Faithless?

On the top of the ziggurat, she found no answers; only abandoned land in three directions, and the whispering waves in the fourth. Her silver eyes could see handcarts of firewood abandoned in the streets, though not haphazardly; and a graveyard, with every plot exhumed and vacant. If the Kedashi had been slaughtered, the white stones would surely be stained; and if they had simply fled, they would not have left their homes in such order, or taken their dead with them. There was no reasonable, rational explanation for the desolation of Kedash. But Nazara-Trades-In-Flesh knew. She knew it bone deep, in the senseless well of instinct where people know things that are not reasonable or rational.

She knew, without doubt, that the twelve thousand Nechushtani-Kedash had one day packed up, closed their houses, extinguished their hearths, gathered the bones of their dead, and walked into the sea.

She sank to her knees as the scale of the madness crashed into her, raking her hands firmly over her tense brow, through her pale braids, as if physically holding herself together. She knew the way the deep places whispered. Everyone did. And every now and then, someone would wander off into some distant crevice or leave their life to vanish into the waves. The fact of life as far as it had ever been lived was that the curvature of existence was a plunging asymptote that the weak skidded down and the strong clawed their way up. But by what madness did so many come to do this with such awful unanimity that required no violence against dissenters, and left no stragglers to inherit the ruin?

Before her knees on this topmost stone surface of the ziggurat was a depiction of Arah-Huana; the winding python with the double-S pattern. Just for now, she permitted herself to hate it.

“Where were you? Why won’t you fight for us?”

There was no answer; just the distant sea birds, and the whisper of the waves.

moonfly7

2021-09-06, 02:48 PM

Arrival at the Spire

As the fraction of Kalvrankin's power sent to discourse with Tajir returned to his body, it found him much farther than when it had left him. Kal and the unassuming vessel of Maktub had made good time through the short span of ocean between their home of piedwald and the Garden, and were now quickly on their way through that place and almost to their destination.

"It's such a shame that we can't stay longer" Kal sighed as they left behind the land of sentient followers and robust Gardeners.

"Just like it's a shame we can't take a detour to visit that beautiful undead tree growing just out that way in the ocean. OH! The beauty of these things! But, I did promise myself I would go and discuss with the one whose realm I have trod so Inelegantly in before I did anything else. So onward we must go. I suppose there is always the return trip, Maktub."

It was in this way that the two made the long journey, or "jaunt" as Kalvrankin put it. Often filled with long hours of Kal speaking, and Maktub nodding along and smiling, adding a point or interjecting ever so often. But knowing that his skeletal friend did have an over fondness of his own voice, and lacked little godly interaction up on his hill.

But finally, the time did come that Kalvrankin and Maktub did reach the bottom of the steps of the Peak, and they did marvel upon the beauty there. And then, with stoic silence and anticipation that had not been present for most of the trip, the two did ascend the hundreds of steps, and arrive at the tip of the peak.

Kal Stretched his back, popping the metal joints of his spine in a truly ungod-like fashion.

"Hello!"He called out from the entrance with a jovial smile "I do believe someone has called for some godly correspondents?"

Breitheamh

2021-09-06, 03:51 PM

It is Written...

When the second Atfal set foot on the Isle of Sailloch, they came in search of the one Who-Believes, the one who had stood boldly against what he believed to be wrong, the one who had listened to the Story more than any other, who had Trusted more than any other, who had disappeared many years ago, before the deaths of so many. They sought him for his wisdom, for his courage, and simply because they wished to see their Brother once more.

He was much younger than they expected. The peers of the one Who-Believes had finally set out, hoping for one last story as their hairs greyed and wilted, their eyes and ears failed them, but Who-Believes trusted the Story, and His Story was not nearing its end. He was hale and hearty as the day he had left, sustained by his unfailing Faith. And he gave their stories the resolution they had so craved, showing to them the new beauty of this new world, these new creatures and friends, teaching them to Trust with their whole hearts, to see that each of their individual stories was Good, and that the Story would always go on after their end.

Al-Atfal who stayed learned how to speak with the Trees, to trust in the provisions of Life for each thing they needed. Those who returned to Al-Kitab brought with them new Understandings of the World, new knowledge to explore, and new tools to use. It was a time of joy in learning for Al-Kitab, but much troubling news reached the ears of Who-Believes. His Brothers and Sisters now faced threats and danger far beyond what any could have imagined so long ago, near the beginning. But there was something he could do about this now. Who-Believes spoke to his People, and declared that they would not be harmed in their travels, that as they began the Journey of a Thousand New Stories, they would always find their way to their destinations, with purity of heart.

Bless using Eyes of Faith Artifact - Extend the blessing of safe travel onto all of Al-Atfal and those who travel with them, so long as their intentions for traveling are not tainted by hatred or war. If they travel for the sake of exploration, curiosity, learning, love, hope, to build or create, they will always find their way to their destination, safe from disaster.

To be clear, this blessing protects them from natural hindrances; weather, elements, the like. If they are attacked that is something different.

The Journey of a Thousand New Stories

Al-Kitab continued their ways of generosity and aid, and exploration and trust, but now they began to adopt the methodical, intentional, organized ways of the Combine, learning to gather, build, and catalog each of their achievements and provisions. They found new ways to store items for long periods of time, things which could be used to maintain their prosperity when the Story turned sour. And as each new ship returned from its first journey, a new story was told, epic and longform, embellishing the hardhsips and gains. Al-Kitab grew up, into a worthy civilization, no longer simply keeping close and waiting for the Story to happen to them, but going forth and Making the Story of the World.

Through their new understanding of True Naming, and each of their inspirations and advancements that had come before, they built the first true Kitabic cities, each one centered around a School, where new generations were taught to memorize and pass down the ancient writings and stories, and encouraged to create something New to transcend the present. They were taught to Trust, to Believe, to Understand, to Explore, and that always, What Was and What Will Be is Good.

Their population boomed, as Fear and Uncertainty gave rise to Exploration and Achievement, and this in turn begat Joy and Zeal. Soon, the ships began not to return, as Al-Atfal made landfall in new worlds, and began to build their homes across the sea.

1 AP: Create Mundane Concept (Pottery) Life (Conservation) 6/10
1 AP: Create Advanced Sub-Concept of Literature (Sagas) Life (Conservation) 7/10
1 AP: Created Mundane Concept (Philosophy) LIfe (Soul) 6/10

All of these concepts are shared by Al-Kitab among all of their neighbors on Piedwald.

To the Spire

Maktub indeed smiled and nodded as they walked alongside their exuberant friend. In many ways, the deity reminded Maktub of their own creation, and they understood why they were so drawn to him. But though they remained close beside their companion, they were also far elsewhere...

Can a god be distracted? Can a god fear? Can a god worry and doubt? Especially the God of Trust and Hope?

Such questions may be best left for the hallowed halls of a Kitabic School, but nonetheless, they must be asked.

Something Called to Creation...

Something which Maktub did not completely understand. It was a deity, like themself, they knew, but it seemed almost to answer to, or perhaps it was itself, a Higher Calling, or Lower, as the case may be. They had not given it overmuch thought... until they began to feel the pull of the Soul Energy of Creation. They knew this Force intimately, had given much of their godly power to strengthen it and intertwine it with Life itself, so that there would always Be Enough...

But something Called, and now, there was less than before, which meant that one day, there would NOT Be Enough...

The voice of Kalvrankin echoing across the mountain steps pulled Maktub back to the present. This question of Souls would not be asked among Al-Kitab, not yet. This question would first be posed to the gods themselves...

MrAbdiel

2021-09-07, 06:58 AM

“...And… here they are, now.”

The narrow Nechustani spoke to his only conversational partner in the room - the avian form of Slingid - and gestured with one slim ivory finger to the harenagram. What might seem at first glance to be an elaborate termite mount or unusual sandcastle is something a touch more mystical - a sand-wought likeness of the mountain’s peak, the exterior of the rotunda, and the last few steps. Tiny figures representing the arriving deities wander into the harenagram’s archway in time with the entrance of the true arrivals; and the thin man turns to face them.

For those arrivals to Abdita who bear bad memories of pale, sharp eared Andlitir lurching from the mists with bloodlust and malice, the physiognomic parallels are hard to miss. But this creature, this desert elf, is not thick with warrior muscle; and he looks over at the demigods approaching with calm eyes the color of brushed bronze. The harenegram's construction collapses gently, rendering it once more as a simple sandpit in the centre of the grand chamber.

“Long days and pleasant nights, most noble ones. You honor my god acquiescing to his invitation; he will honor you by making your journey worth the travel.”

He smiles the faint smile of a man worn so spiritually thin by awe and grandeur that he can be in the presence of gods with quiet in his heart, and settles to the ground on his knees. With his palms flat on the rough hewn robe over his breast, he leans forward to complete the totality of the bow, until his forehead touches the warm stone tile in the grand, mostly vacant meeting chamber. After a moment, he sits up from that position of abject submission, and addresses them from his kneeling position.

“My god is Arah-Huana, whose coils embrace the spirits of the departed; whose mercy is on the barren and fruitless, and whose wrath is on the ravager, and the murderer. I bid you welcome, in his name. I am Atticus-He-Speaks-For-Me.”

With his self identification, the hearers can detect a second voice, oversibilant and deep as night, overlaying Atticus’ own. This second voice has no true physical origin; it comes from just behind the hearer’s ear or equivalent hearing organ, bleeding into the air to ratify the speaker’s name, which is within itself a divine claim. While not physically present, there can be no mistake that this fellow divine, Arah-Huana, speaks with them through this prophet.

“Permit me to ask each of you - who do you say you are? From how far have you come - and did you come at the invitation first to listen, or are you burdened with questions of your own?”

Raise Hero (2AP - Excellence (Heroes) 6/10)

The Prophet

Arah-Huana's second perpetual hero was once Atticus-Strikes-At-Mirrors; a wry and keen eyed travelling companion of Nazara-Trades-In-Flesh. Once he witnessed the birth of the Black Peak of Reason, he found himself ensnared once and forever with the plans of his god and that mountain. He is the first to have walked its steps, and upon that gallingly high peak, Arah-Huana spoke to him about the Nechustani, and Abdita, and the world, and the gods, and the planes, and more things than he could possibly comprehend in a dozen lifetimes. Fortunately, he will have more than a dozen lifetimes eventually, as each reincarnation will impress the wisdom of the previous spirit on to the ever-returning soul. Atticus-Strikes-At-Mirrors became Atticus-He-Speaks-For-Me; the first Prophet of Arah-Huana, and certainly not the last. He is not physically powerful, although he has access to a certain amount of divine authority invested within him for the specific purposes his god intends. He has an unusual breadth of information about matters far beyond his personal experience as a result of his relationship with the Godfather; but his grasp is imperfect, and shallow, and untempered by the many years of perspective he will need before he is truly the instrument he needs to be. He is gifted with a communicative power to speak the dozens of languages impressed on to his mind by Arah-Huana, presumably to facilitate his future roll as greeter and speaker to peoples and deities from all over creation.

6 AP Remaining.

moonfly7

2021-09-07, 02:34 PM

"I am Kalvrankin, Lord of undeath, friend." Kal spake with an easy smile
"I have come from Piedwalds Undead Orchard across the sea, and through the garden with my companion, who I trust wishes to intoduce himself. As for questions, I have a few. But I am also here to listen. I believe that myself and your god have much we must discuss, and I much explanantions to give."

He ends this with a bow, not overly large, but clearly one of deference. Acknowledging that this is not his home nor is it his realm of power, and he will defer to the one whom it is both.

ezekielraiden

2021-09-08, 02:39 AM

Certain Goals, Uncertain Steps

Yea, closely did the Woven Oath attend
A sibling's summons unto sable spire,
In search of godly contact, to forefend
The quenching of his chosen children's fire.
The Father of the Dawn toward sunrise cast
Across the arching waves. He flew afar,
And found afield great wonders, tall and vast
As lofty peak and deep abyssal scar.
But he who flew, for distant shore to seek,
Found fault with whirling wheel that was his frame.
For how can wispy words watch o'er the weak?
He clothed himself anew in form and name:
"I come to you, to honor oaths I swore,
To speak of peace, lest love be lost to war."

-- The Amaranthine Halo, canticle III, verse 7

The "invitation" to the spire of sable was as natural as breathing, for those of divine spark. He knew where to be, and roughly when. Exactly how to respond to it, however, eluded him at first. He knew he could not let it go unanswered, not with the children of OGAM having made so clear a message. So he journeyed, across the Garden and the great Muiribar Sea, and reflected.

What to say? "Leave my children alone"? That was wrong, on several levels. He wanted all the gods' children to rise higher. The highest peaks are built upon the most stones. Driving them away before they even had the chance to exchange perspective could serve no worthy end. But OGAM's children had made their violence clear, the wrath of the earth made manifest for all to see. And he would not, could not allow that fate to befall the Quetzpal'in. But was unequivocal peace any better? To be hemmed in on all sides, given no choice but to exit the world entirely, as the Kitess had done, just to have places to live? OGAM's roots reached far--indeed, had laid the foundations of nearly all the land risen up from the sea. Where could his children go, that OGAM's children did not already lay claim with root and branch?

There had to be some path between the hammer and the anvil, but it eluded him, like phantoms at the edge of vision, too clear to ignore, too blurred to see.

Eventually, he reached the Black Peak, which eminently suited its name. The ribbon of golden light flowed up and around. If any mortals present there witnessed his passing, Arkhos paid them no mind; their future was not his concern in this moment, their fate not liable to be set, for weal or for woe, by the upcoming turns of phrase.

He ascended to the meeting-chamber in silence, again assuming the form of the golden circle. As others had come before him, he spoke no word, waiting his turn. Truly, he did not need much introduction to them, but it was courteous--and courtesy might prove the single thread that could hold this tapestry together.

moonfly7

2021-09-08, 08:41 PM

The day was the first true warm one that Piedwald had experienced in the weeks since the brutal assault from the creatures in the mist. And in the Orchard, the Circle was hustling and bustling about, working on many different projects. On any day before this there would be beautiful artwork on each anvil, beautiful writing on every sheet of parchment.

And on some, there still were. But the majority were filled with more practical things: sketches for walls of strong timber coated in bronze and studded with silver.
On every anvil silver headed spears and javelins were being hammered out and attached to handles of strange burnt but still solid wood, cut from a glade of necromanced trees separate from the Orchard.

And each furnace made for smelting metal blazed its hottest, each being used to melt and mix different metals, crafting new alloys to use for magic. It was not lost on the lone slig climbing the slope that most, if not all of the metals, were silver based.

Amidst all this a single woman stood in gleaming bronze armor reinforced with silver. She was directing a large group of assorted skeletal animals, sending them on what appeared to be specific tasks. Some fetched wood, some were digging ditches with skeletal paws, and others were standing guard. In this group was anything from simple creatures like Borametz birds and large predatorial cats, to stranger beings just as bizarre in flesh as they were in bone.

This al-Atfall looked up from her task, and set down the thin bronze plate she had been marking on. Her eyes light up when she sees Tloc

"Tloc, survivor of Glimblisk! It is good to see you in our Orchard! "
She says as she moves to greet him with an easy smile.

In truth, Tajir had known none of these things even just moments before, but as Tloc crested the hill, kals voice whispered in her mind.

“He is Tloc of Glimblisk. He seeks help, and brings it as well, great him as one of our own, with open arms and proffered cup. Together you could do great things.”

zzzzzzzz414

2021-09-09, 07:05 PM

The dryads of Sailloch were not especially surprised that the Atfal had come asking after the welfare of their companion; it had, apparently, been quite some time by their standards. Nor were they surprised that the one named Who-Believes left soon after; for the newcomers brought with them stories of strange and destructive things, of walking frost-beasts that emerged from the mists to kill and destroy. And though the parting was bittersweet, it was known that the one named Who-Believes had a dedication to the health and safety of his flock not unlike the ents' dedication to the forest itself.

However, they were mildly surprised to find that some of these newcomers were interested in them - to the point of wishing to stay upon Sailloch, to live their stories alongside the dryads and among the trunks of the ents, to know more of them and their ways. The atfals' curiosity and desire for companionship was accepted, and exuberantly returned - for they had just learned of the existence of name-blessed life beyond the shores of Sailloch, and were eager for knowledge and connection, for tales of the strange gleaming-trees and bone-beasts and tentacled wood-eaters that dwelled beyond the ents' roots. And knowledge was offered in return - knowledge of the ents, and of OGAM, and of the legends and customs of the forests; customs that were still coming into being as the dryads began to adapt to their existence and place in this world, and the ents adapted to their new-forged bonds with them. Together, the groups began to create new knowledge and art as well - to probe the empathic bond between ent and dryad and expand it, infuse it with the internal power of mana to create an art available to all: Earthtongue, the magic by which any could commune with and lend magic to, not merely the ents, but to all plant life.

As this community of knowledge and emerging culture solidified, however, it began to grow into something ill-fitting for the temporary camps set up along the shoreline. To build structures from cut wood, as some of the Atfal had in their homelands, was unacceptable upon the soil of Sailloch: for even the mundane trees were crucial parts of the forest's cycle, living nodes in the grand networks of nutrients and information; and the naturally fallen and dead trees were not sufficent in number or quality for their needs. So, as they moved inward, they made dwellings of grass, clay and fallen wood, and used the art of Earthtongue to speak saplings into suitable shapes for dwelling, adapting their often-impermanent settlements to the shape of the forest and canopy.

As the first civilization upon Sailloch took shape, the ents of Sailloch began to reach out through the roots of OGAM, spreading their new-found knowledge to their distant siblings in the north, south, and west - knowledge of these beasts that knew Name and Self as ents did, knowledge of their ways, knowledge of the new-made arts of Truenaming and Earthspeak.

And so, it was in this way that the ents of Fearnmag came to realize what the true nature of the "beast-fire" they had extinguished must have been.

There was a great stillness in the roots of Fearnmag as all contemplated this knowledge, and its meaning. And it was in that stillness that they recognized the source of the quiet and slow unease that had begun to simmer quietly beneath the forest's active hum ever since the season of the beast-fire: a slow and drawn out disappointment, imbued with a thousand layers of meaning, but all of which pointed towards a single word, an admonition emanating from the roots of FEARNA, who is OGAM:

Life.

Many maintained that what they had done was justified; blessed with Name and Self and Awareness as they were, the intruders had still been ignorant of the language of wood and root; they would have all been slaughtered and consumed, had they done nothing. Others were not so sure - perhaps such absolute methods had not been so necessary to drive them away. Perhaps they even could have been the ones to make the discovery their Sailloch siblings had, and thus prevented the destruction of many named beings, had they thought to listen and take closer to heart the teachings of OGAM. But all could agree that their current way of being was unacceptable; the world was far wider than they had known, and they could not live in death, ignorance and separation when the path to life, knowledge and connection lay before them. And so, in the forests and savannah of Fearnmag, and so too in Ubollfidh and Collfidh and Caerskellig, dryads began to emerge, making for themselves ways of living within the forest not dissimilar to those of the people of Sailloch; and the five branches of OGAM, though separated by great distance, began to draw together through his roots, forming into a whole of one forest, yet many.

And not all of these new-made dryads remained within their forests; for, now that it was known that other thinking beings existed in this world, there could be no denial of the drive, the mandate, even, to go forth and meet with them; to foster communication, to connect and, through connection, to help both to grow and flourish. And so, in every land, small groups of dryads - and, on piedwald, the occasional Atfal as well - began to venture out, taking with them the necessities of survival and travel, as well as a special gift carefully taken from the roots of OGAM themself through the art of Earthspeech. They scattered as seeds on the wind in all directions to do what the rooted ents could not: to wander the land and bring back knowledge of the world and its people; and to spread knowledge and gifts of the Five Forests in turn, so that never again would the tragedy of the beast-fire at Fearnmag need to be repeated.

And in the land of Sailloch, both as a means of passage and a symbol of the forest's new openness, the ents drew upon an ancient, near-forgotten knowledge from the beginning of the world, and called deep into the earth - and the one called Boiteag Dirt-Eater heard, and answered. With a great and resounding roar, the earth itself beneath the waters of the deep lake separating Sailloch from the rest of piedwald reared up, and with a thunderous crash settled once again; forming a great landbridge across which the first of the Seeds-Upon-The-Wind would take the first steps beyond the boughs of the sacred forests of OGAM.

AP total: 4

Rollover: 4+4 = 8AP

Create Mythical Subconcept (Magic): Earthspeak (2AP)

Earthspeak is the practice of communicating with and in some cases manipulating living plant life through mana. Earthspeak typically takes the form of a "conversation" between mage and plant, using one's mana to establish an empathic connection which can be used for many purposes. This can even be done with mundane, non-sapient plant life.

One common application is to manipulate the growth and shape of the plant; making a "request" to it, and providing the magical energy required to complete it, usually by growing in a particular way or into a particular shape at a greatly accelerated rate. The desires of mundane plants are usually exceptionally simple, and they will usually readily accept the suggested request and magical energy without complaint so long as it is not actively harmful to them; however, the minds of most plants are somewhat alien, and may interpret the desire of the mage in unusual ways, especially where there is ambiguity involved. A tree given the broad directive to restrain an assailant, for instance, may decide to do so by piercing them through the limbs, not really understanding the finer points of animal anatomy. Asking requests from sapient plants such as ents or phihid, meanwhile, is obviously more complex, requiring actual negotiation.

Another application is to simply communicate with them, to obtain information or for other means. Mundane plants are relatively lacking in senses such as sight, taste, or hearing, but are often sensitive to vibrations, touch, or atmospheric conditions such as moisture, all of which can be sometimes useful; and of course, one can use this to identify a plant that is not immediately familiar, to, say, determine whether its berries are poisonous. Non-plants can also use this to hold fuller conversations with sapient plants. However, for ents at least, this form of one-to-one immediate conversation isn't very familiar or comfortable to them, and a conversation from a "quickling" earthspeaker to them will likely consist mostly of vague emotions, impressions and images, rather than words and sentences.

Magic (Druids) 3/10

Create Legendary Society: The Five Forests (4AP)

The Five Forests is a loose federation encompassing the forests of Sailloch, Caerskellig, Fearnmag, Ubollfidh and Collfidh, scattered across the four OGAM-made continents, and connected by zir roots. The civilization consists primarily of ents and dryads, though they are open to outsiders willing to integrate themselves (such as the Atfal who remained in Sailloch).

The structure of the five individual forests can be thought of as a set of "rings", each having a different scope of duty and responsibility. The innermost ring is OGAM xemself, who is SAILLE, FEARNA, CAERTHEAND, UBOLL and COLLOS. Passive and incomprehensibly vast in thought, ze is a source of vague yet grand insight on the nature of the world and all life upon it; xe is not exactly "worshipped", but it it considered good and prudent to listen to xer wisdom. The next ring consists of those tasked with just that - the Listeners, those ents closest to the central tree of their forest, who spend most of their time listening to and interpreting the slow but ever-present will of OGAM, and passing it along to others, acting as the primary spiritual guides as well as repositories of cultural history.

Then come the Watchers, a broader category of rings consisting primarily of ents, whose roles concern the broad overall wellbeing and ecology of the forest, the fostering of the next generations of ents and dryads, and the stewardship of philosophy and magic. The relationships and politics within these rings are complex, revolving around the complex interchange of nutrients and knowledge through the network of fungus and tree roots beneath the surface. Generally, the more important an Ent is as a "node" of this network, the more power and influence they have; leading to complicated rituals of negotiation concerning the creation of new ents in particular, and a structure overall very tied to the nature and lay of the land. The Ents within these rings carefully maintain the balance and life of the forest through phyical manipulation via their own roots and branches, as well as magical manipulation via the art of Earthspeak. Though it is possible for dryads to be part of this circle, it is rather rare, and by nature requires incredible mastery of the art of Earthspeak, as well as a very close bond with their ent. For non-dryad "quicklings" - even those whose families have been part of the forest for generations - it is practically unheard of.

And after that come the Speakers, the sets of rings consisting primarily of dryads and outside joiners such as the Atfal of Sailloch, whose roles concern the day-to-day concerns of their survival (such as hunting, gathering, tool-crafting, shelter-making, weaving, etc) as well as "outward-facing" concerns such as trade, diplomacy, and, if necessary, war and protection. The members of these rings are organized into small parties and tribes of nomads who primarily survive through hunting and foraging, though some (especially those with close access to the wide savannahs of Abdita) have begun to experiment with herding as well. These tribes often make dwellings by using Earthspeak to create trees of suitable hollow shape, and supplementing them with additions made of woven grass, packed earth and fallen wood. Then, when the tribe changes location in order to find new sources of food when local supplies have been diminished, the trees are left behind - and may become suitable dwellings for future tribes. In this way, a pattern of migration routes has emerged over time as bands move from old village location to old village location in conjunction with the seasonal cycles of food, often coordinated at festivals or "circles" of multiple tribes that take place at special times throughout the year.

The Speakers make regular use of Earthspeak and Truenaming, and most bands have at least one mage among them. The most common uses are in the creation of Name-weapons and Name-creatures. Name-weapons are wooden slings, staves and simple bows, carefully Earthspoken and Named so as to remain alive, even when detached from their roots; deriving sustenance primarily from their maker/partner's mana instead. These weapons are like living companions, empowered through Name, and are often used as channeling devices for other forms of Earthspeaking. One popular practice among these mages is the use of seeds or nuts as ammunition; through Earthspeak, these are infused with magic, and made to instantly explode into growth upon impact, lacerating or incapacitating the target. Name-creatures are truenamed animal companions, typically dogs, boars, certain birds, and on occasion elephants. They are usually taken on as hunting partners, though often serve other purposes, such as carrying messages or even as mounts.

In theory, no ring has any amount of dominion over another. All have authority over their own areas of responsibility; a Speaker may not rule over a Watcher on matters of raising new ents, and a Watcher may not rule over a Speaker on matters of diplomacy. If two rings' interests are both involved, they must negotiate as equals. In practice, however, the Watchers have significant clout over the Speakers, owing to their control over the foraging resources the Speakers need to survive, their sole authority over the creation of new dryads, and their roles as keepers of cultural knowledge. In areas where their interests conflict, the Watchers almost always overrule; and there is a - not overwhelming, but present - cultural current among the ents that views the dryads, not as full individuals, but merely as purpose-made extensions of themselves.

Magic (Druids) 7/10

Create Organization: Seeds-Upon-The-Wind (1AP)

The Seeds-Upon-The-Wind are a group of wandering explorers, surveyors and diplomats composed primarily of dryads. They are tasked with going out into the world, gathering information on the land and the various people that live in it, and bringing this information back to the forests, while also spreading knowledge of the ents' and the Five Forests' existence and establishing friendly relationships of shared understanding between those they encounter.

A member of the Seeds-Upon-The-Wind must be exceptionally well-versed in magic, reading, language, the cultural history of the Five Forests, crude raftbuilding, and in the basic survival and navigation skills required for long, arduous, often dangerous journeys. (Atfal are common members of the organization on the continent of Piedwald, owing to the blessing bestowed by their god, but even that can only guaranteee that they will *arrive* - it cannot necessarily guarantee that they will not arrive half-dead, half-starved, and incredibly late if proper preparations are not made). To be selected for the role of Seed by the organization is a singular distinction that many spend decades training and studying for; and, though not technically required, many remain in the role for life, forming closer bonds with their companions than they did with their home forests.

Though the organization is greatly valued and respected, its members are also held somewhat as outsiders, changed as they are by their long journeys of almost-isolation and contact with other cultures. And it is an unspoken truth that some use the group as an ideal "dumping ground" that social outcasts or problematic members may be pushed towards in lieu of uglier infighting.

Magic (Druids) 8/10

Alter Land: Saillgeata (1-1AP artifact (Boiteag) discount = 0AP)

Saillgeata is a massive landbridge stretching across the great lake surrounding the isle of Sailloch, connecting its southwest shore to the rest of the continent. The landbridge is only a few miles wide, and is primarily rock and sand, without soils deep enough to support much life, but has some patchy mosses and grasses on its surface.

8 - 2 - 4 - 1 - 0 = 1AP Remaining

-The society of The Five Forests has been founded, connecting the five ent-forests on Piedwald, Cartisia, Abdita and Thirtha-Din.

The magical art of Earthspeak has been created, allowing for communication with and manipulation of plant life.

The organization of the Seeds-Upon-The-Wind has been created, and has begun dispatching bands of explorers/diplomats in every direction, meaning that some are going to eventually stumble into just about every society on the same continent as the Five Forests.

A landbridge has been created crossing the lake of Sailloch, connecting the isle of Sailloch to the rest of Piedwald.

canjowolf

2021-09-09, 09:51 PM

Blackleaf drifted through the Dream Garden, observing the hopes and dreams of those on the prime world. Many of the demi-gods still resided there, though their dreams were more difficult to discern. Blackleaf did hear one call though. A song of fire. A dream of smoke. A yearning for knowledge. Blackleaf reached out and lent divine power to fulfill this hope and allow the story to bloom. Blackleaf prepared to take shape in the smoke of flames yet to be. The revelations of fire, bronze, and alien ways of war would assist the People in their holy duties in the coming days.

Starting AP: 5
-1 AP: Create Mythical Sub-concept of Magic: Divination [smoke] (Trade: Addictive), shared with Feathersnow

KragBrightscale

2021-09-09, 10:52 PM

New land - Reef construction

After a long and dangerous journey, the rekexi expedition arrived weary and hungry at the shores of a new continent. Attacked by a giant barracuda the size of a whale. They lost a manta and it’s passengers stayed behind to delay the sea monster so others could escape.

The frantic escape had disoriented the expedition force, as out in the open ocean everything looked too similar. Wandering around far longer than anticipated, they ran out of most of their supplies before they finally found an undersea current that carried them all the way to the coast of a foreign land.

The rekexi gathered what food they could scavenge from the shallows they arrived at: seaweed, clams and mussels. The land they had found was vast and completely different from their own atolls and flat sandy beaches.

The land-kelp grew tall and strong, towering over the small shrimpfolk. Climbing them was more of a challenge than climbing regular kelp stalks due to the lack of buoyancy, but once a few succeeded the sights they saw shocked them deeply.

Why was there so much land so far from the shores? How could anything survive without the presence of life giving water?

Their confusion was compounded when scouts ventured further inland (still within sight of the sea) and saw what could only be the terrestrial version of sea monsters. The giant creature was enormous, and the Rekexi decided to back off before they caught its attention.

Returning to the shore, they shared their findings before getting to work building up a reef. This is was one of the essential skills every rekexi learned when they were young. Especially once a special sea cucumber started being grown that produced the widely used Mucilage. Squeezing the sea cucumbers would cause them to release a sticky non-soluble yet nutrient rich gel that barnacle and coral polyps love.

Moving sand rocks to form a small ridge a short distance from the shore, then covering it with Mucilage to attract and stimulate barnacle and coral growth.

It would take a couple months for the reef to be properly established, then the expedition force would have a safer and sheltered base of operations. In the meantime, they worked on building small homes in the kelp forest that they could later move where they wanted. These homes would usually be positioned to create additional reef ridges.

Explosive Growth - Altered Coastlines

It was over a year later when a weary Manta and its five riders made it back to Krillix to report. Excitement filled the Imperial court as officials discussed the implications of there being unclaimed and bountiful shallows. What if there was more in the other directions too.

By now, the number of Sea Monster Controllers had risen a lot, forming a widely influential organization, the Sea Wraiths. Anyone who successfully possessed a sea monster was eligible to join and receive training, though hierarchy was strict and followed military standards.

While Mantas were easier to control and more maneuverable, some rekexi decided to posses the larger whales that could be used to transport over a hundred Rekexi at a time.

The empress was thrilled to hear of the expedition’s successful establishment of a new reef and spawn pools. Sending out an official decree to all the islands of Krillix, she mobilized a few thousand young rekexi who were willing to take on the task of establishing new territories.

Manta squads like the first expedition were sent out in all directions in search of more coastlines, while teams of whales were used to ferry colonists to the newly established reefs.

For safety, the new colonies refrained from exploring inland and avoided interaction with terrestrial creatures. Priority was given to reef construction and setting up the algae and oyster farms.

As time went by, the reefs built by the rekexi grew larger and more complex. Layers of ridges, hollow inside and used as homes, protected the shallower waters from predators and violent waves. A new generation of rekexi were raised far from Krillix, in the shallows of the Sandy Reef and Giant’s Reef.

The empress reached the end of her lifespan, leaving behind a legacy that surpassed all previous rulers. The outwards focus provided an alternative to civil war, and the Empress’s disciple smoothly inherited the Throne.

The few opponents who would have stood in her way were conveniently sent on an expedition shortly before the empress passed. When they returned, power was already firmly within the grasp of the new young empress so they could only direct their ambition elsewhere.

AP: 2+4 rollover

Bless (Mucilage Sea Cucumbers) -0 AP (artifact)
A special breed of Sea cucumbers that grow up to a foot long and can be squeezed to release Mucilage. A sticky nutrient dense gel that does not dissolve in water. Spreading it on a surface will encourage and speed up the formation of hard coral. It quickly replaced the previously used paste to become the primary construction material for sub aquatic construction.
No portfolio gain due to being free

Alter Land - Abdita (Sasquix Cays) -1 AP
A winding reef with many sandy islands has been built along the eastern coast of the continent, including around a few of the existing small islands. While the sandy coast may support little vegetation, the newly formed shallows are lush with aquatic flora and fauna.
Oceans (Shallows) 10/10 GET!

Alter Land - L.o.t.S. (Razork Reef) -1 AP
Built using more rocks and other sturdy materials, a massive barrier reef is being built. Consisting of several layers, the shallows between them are safe both from the deep sea predators and terrestrial enemies. Special care is taken to ensure there is always an opening in the barrier to allow water to flow back and forth with the tides, and to avoid the water growing stagnant.
Disaster (Sea Monsters) 5/10

Create Organization (Sea Wraiths) -1 AP
An organization of those with the ability to possess Sea Monsters. Transferring their spirit to a giant beast that did not possess a spirit before, the Sea Wraiths control these monstrosities like their own bodies. Due to the culture of the Rekexi, the organization is run with a clearly defined structure that was based on the military. There is a strong pride in being a part of the group and they generally stay out of politics, providing an alternative ladder to climb for those with ambitions. At its founding, they mainly focused on transport and travel between Krillix and its colonies. As they grow in number and more violent sea monsters are added to the roster, they’ll become a deciding factor in many battles.
Disaster (Sea Monsters) 6/10

AP remaining: 6 -0 -1 -1 -1 = 3 AP

Feathersnow

2021-09-10, 03:00 AM

moonfly7

2021-09-10, 10:23 AM

Words Between Heroes
Tajir smiled at the Slig, but shook her head with a laugh.

"Not Queen, exactly. Though my Lord certainly thinks I'm gunning for such a thing. But I am the leader of the Circle of Bronze and Bone, High Priest of Kalvrankin, and I can say with some certainty that we would love to teach you our arts. And we would love it even more if you could share with us your knowledge of Animation Magic. There are some sligs here who know a little, but not enough to truly teach us anything major."

As she speaks, Tajir leads Tloc through the orchard and towards a small cleared area where they can speak in private.

"I will say, we've already dispatched several groups of our finest Bonerights and True Smiths to begin teaching your people our arts. They should already have begun sharing their knowledge with the other Sligs."
She turns from where she had been staring off into the wilderness and smiles, eyes alight with the potential of this meeting, what great work they might together etch into the Story.
"But you present an interesting Opportunity. Tloc, I want to teach you all we know, and in exchange I want you to teach me all that you know. And then together we shall push forward the work in both our crafts, and make you a Slig unlike any other."
Already thoughts bubbled inside her head, an idea she had been playing with for weeks now, a way to fuse their metals with organics. And while they were still far away from even trying such a thing, it had just occured to Tajir Kalvrankins-Temper that a slig could test the concept safely with there multitude of prostethics before they ever attempted the risky biological aspect. If Tloc was willing, she would indeed put her all into making him a slig like no other, and from the project, their knowledge of the limits of both magics would grow.

The Circle Prepares, and Learns a Lesson in Fear
It was in these days, around when Tloc came to the Orchard, that the mighty magical grove was entertaining other magical guests as well. At-fal from the center island, accompanied by strange creatures born of nature and trees themselves. They came with them baring a way to speak to trees in their own tongue, to ask favors and to make new friends. Sucha thing excited the Circle of Bronze and Bone, and as they taught the new comers of their arts and told them much about the Undead Orchard which seemed to intrigue them so, so too did the newcomers teach them of their Earth Speak, and whisper knowledge of their floating devices.

Both the ability to speak directly with nature and the idea that one could traverse the waves took root in the Circles minds. It had been long since they had recieved the command of their Lord to spread his word, and they had done so little to follow through. that would change. It must change.

And so began a great work, the Circle began to prepare shematics for boats big enough to carry their expeditions out across the seas and to distant lands, to teach others their Lords art. But these boats would not be made of wood, but metal, a boyant metal. And there in lay the problem, for such a metal had yet to be forged in their fires of magic and flame. And so they began to dig towards the depths for new metals, propelled by an unknown force pulling at their minds.

Now even far away Kalvrankin watched his children, and he did feel their digging deeper. Barely had they even begun to cut into stone when their Lord acted. Godly power flowed into each and every member of the Circle and all Undead, present and future. A fear of the underground and underwaves, a caution and fear of everything from the Deep. It was extreme, it was limiting, but it would keep his children SAFE. And Kal would take a small injustice over the loss of his people.

Now refusing to re-enter the shallow holes they had dug, even to retrieve their tools, Kals people saw their plans of travel as a lost cause. Until Copper trees of living wood sprouted from the ground, and they saw the future. The Circle did not Dig for it's metal and take what grew in the earth. It would grow it's metal, as it always had. Such was the wisdom of their god, they thought!

And so the few Earth Speakers among them did whisper with the Orchard itself, and there was a rumble and a force of power, and now some of the beautiful living copper trees had soft whitish metal leaves of Zinc, and eggs of the same. And as the Circles Earth Speakers listened, the Orchard whispered of a plan, a thought from these strange undead plnat lives minds. And so the Circle of Bronze and Bone followed this whispered guidance, and they began to coax the newly born Zipratroos to intermix with the Cupratroos. and through this combination of plant and animal husbandry aided by a blessing from the great Undead trees themselves, living trees of a new metal did begin to grow. and Brupratroos were brought into this world, trees that grew eggs and leaves of a new metal, of Brass.

And as the Circle took this new metal and Tempered it, they found it to be exactly what they sought. a Strong metal, a cousin of Bronze, that could float above the waves.

The Circle Expands

The Circle Of Bronze and Bone set to work, and the few Earth Speakers among them began to coax the new Brupratroos trees into growing together in a single project. Growing almost as one to create a distinctly different product from the trees normal eggs. In this way, a great brass boat did rapidly take shape from the trees themselves, coaxed as they were by the magics taught by the ents. And soon a Large boat was made of Brass, it resembled in shape a long cannoe, perhaps a tad egg like in it's shape. It had space for five oars aside. It had little room for food or water, and so to row this mighty vessel ten Circle Members already on their Second Story were chosen, as they would not tire nor need to eat. Five were chosen for their mastery of True Temper and metal work, and Five for their skill in Necromancy and knowledge of Philosophy. upon reaching a new land they would split into pairs and begin to walk this new land together spreading their knowledge. Among these ten were the usual smattering of Al-Atfal, as well as three Sligs. One a master of Necromancy, the other two well versed in smithing and Metal Magic.

To put forth a less terrifying visage, as the undead often did through no fault of their own, there was chosen an 11th member. A brave Al-Atfal on his First Story, what food that could be stored on the vessel was for this man, Soren Travels-Far. He was well rounded in magics, knowing himself a small bit about Earth Speech, smattering of Animation magics, and decently versed in Necromancy and True Temper. He would sustain himself through the blessing of the sun given to those who cared for their bodies and minds, and the non-perishable foods they had stored on board.

As the brave 11 set out over the ocean's waves, the Circle also sent out it's teachers to those still on the continent. A pair of Circle Mages each versed in one half the Circles magics was sent to each of the Sligs major settlements to provide knowledge and teach them of these beautiful magics, and, covertly, to slow the spread of the Callings influence there.

The towns of the Al-Atfal had always had Circle members moving throughout them, but now more permenent buildings were being layed down as the Circle set up permanent residences and temples from which they could directly aid and teach.

Even on the central island, now connected by a land bridge, the Circle of Bronze and Bone sent an envoy. Perhaps it might be difficult to teach creatures as strange and slow moving as Sentient Trees their arts, but that would not stop them from trying. Although the Circle made sure that the ones sent to teach the Ents and Dryads were all undead, as it could take millenia to truly impart the knowledge in a useful manner.

Counter Curse(Fear the Deep) 2 AP: Kalvrankin has sewn fear of digging deaper than a few feet or diving below the shallows into the hearts of both the Circle of Bronze and Bone, and all Undead. It is a preternatural, bone deep dislike and distrust of what lives deep under the earth and waves, and while it can be overcome, it is not something that most can easily push through. Magic(True Temper) (9/10)

Create Monsterous Sub-Life(Zipratroos) 1 AP: Zipratoos are Zinc forms of the Crupratroos, and other than the metalic difference are virtually the same. They can interbreed with Crupratroos to create Brupratroos. Magic (True Temper)(10/10) Domain Obtained!!!!

Bless(artifact), Breeding Birdtrees(0AP): all Metalic Borametz Trees can interbreed with one another, potentially creating alloys of themselves, liken the Brupatroos.

AP: 3+4=7

7-2-1-0= 4

Remaining AP: 4

Tajir and Tloc plan some potential shenanigans together.

The Circle and all Undead are now scared of going too far underground and of deep water. Zinc and Brass trees have been made, and the Cricle has been begun actively building places to live and teach in other nations. A large Brass boat has been sent out to carry 11 Circle Members to other cultures to teach.

Breitheamh

2021-09-10, 06:34 PM

It is Written...

The one Who-Believes watched over Al-Atfal, and all others who may be set upon by what seeks to make the Story Not Good. He watched them learn and grow, watched them explore and return, venture forth and settle. He watched them become something far more than they had been, but still, something in him, as it did in the god he Trusted, made him doubt, and worry.

The anxiety born of an uncertain threat, looming beyond the horizon of what is Understood, it nibbled at his Spirit, nipped at his Soul.

The Mist-Beings had come without warning and without mercy. Had they needed anything Al-Kitab possessed, freely it would have been given. But it was taken from them at the cost of so many stories to be told, so much love to be shared, so much joy to be found. The true beauty of the world was stripped away from innocent souls out of...

Out of...what? What had compelled the attackers to commit their aggression? Where had they come from? Why had they come?

Was it hatred? Had any of their victims committed some unknown sin for which they demanded retribution?

Was it greed? Did they live whatever lives they lived simply to acquire, more and more, always taking, never giving?

Was it hunger, or thirst? Was it pure gleeful violence?

As the wise Atfal, far older than any other had lived, yet sustained by faith that his Story would be long Enough, contemplated these questions, watching the everflow of time carry his Brothers and Sisters across the sea and to far-flung corners of the world, he finally saw it...

The End...

He looked to the earth, looked to the trees, to the sky, and smiled contentedly as he opened the Final Chapter of his Story.

He walked for some time, traveling every road he had ever traveled before, never stopping to settle himself, until one day he was not alone. A young woman he recognized walked beside him. She was from the Kitabic city known as Avel-Mekhola, and blind from birth. She had memorized the Writings by listening with patience, and now she walked with patience beside the one Who-Believes.

As he stopped and studied her, she answered the question before it could form on his lips, "You walked with more purpose than I have ever heard you walk before. I felt it only right that someone should bear witness to whatever your purpose might be."

"Then you trust me?" he asked with a smile.

"I trust the Story," she answered sincerely.

He did not respond, but continued his pace forward, the journey evermore bringing him closer to the End. And then he saw them in his Faithful Eyes, the Mists that beckoned him forth to the climax of his Story. He took the first step, and then another, as he had so long ago to cross to Sailloch. He had played his role in uniting the world in peace, but now there were others who needed him.

Another step...

And another...

Until the one Who-Believes and the one Who-Trusted-Him walked into the chill of the Mists...

And vanished into Hvittmaudh...

The Black Peak of Reason

Maktub smiled in greeting as each of their fellows arrived at the Spire. They had much on their mind now, as they felt the one who had first truly Understood what it meant to Trust enter the final moments of his Story, and knew that their own worries had brought them here.

They were the first to speak beyond the introductions...

The Voice of the Story reverberated across the mountain's peak, as the wind picked up, and the Word spoke I am the Story We are Telling, What is Written, Maktub. It is Good to Trust and Hope, but I am in the midst of Doubt and Worry as we speak. Something Calls to Creation, something which threatens all Life, ever so gently, such that I Worry that there will not always be enough for new Stories to be told.

Kinro

2021-09-10, 08:11 PM

The sauropod did see the shrimp-like creatures down below, for he was tall and could see far. He saw them come upon land, and then he saw them scramble back away to the sea. He didn't think that it was due to him, for all of the smaller creatures in the lands he knew, and all creatures, other than some of his own species were much smaller than him, knew that sauropods didn't hunt and didn't chase. At least, except for those small one that desired their eggs. Those were chased away promptly. But the idea that any other kind of creature would fear him didn't enter his large mind. And soon, the shrimp-like creatures left his mind, too, as they didn't mare a reappearance for a long, long time, for they lived underwater and the sauropods, except for brief times when they chose to bathe in the surrounding oceans, preferred to stay on land.

Rollover
2 + 4 = 6

Create monster (Velociraptor)

A small creature, approximately the size of a dog in human terms. A pack hunter carnivore with a predilection for eggs, much to the chagrin of the sauropods. It also act as a scavenger, so, between the chance for eggs and the occasional sauropod carcass to scavenge, there are usually groups of the pests following the sauropod tribes around.

6 - 1 = 5

Feathersnow

2021-09-11, 01:06 AM

Slingid
The Coming of the Dryads
The embassy sent from the followers of OGAM to the people of Slingid was probably doomed from the start. Slingid was known to hate trees, and his creation story was one of saving the first Queen from monsters unleashed by the unthinking wake of OGAM's first children.

But, in fairness, the Dryads did not know this. They knew there was a settlement of some sort north of their island, and they went there with diplomatic intent. The first sign of life was the barking of beasts. It was also the last. The barking slogs had triggered a sudden evacuation.

As the Dryads went forward, they found things that were deeply disturbing. The strange Borametz trees grew in great numbers and in unnaturally straight rows. A handful of terrible Scrab beasts and a herd of benign meeps were each corralled in fences made of dead trees! There were many large buildings made of the same materials, residences for both the animals and others for the inhabitants.

Going further, a great pit near the town were the townspeople were digging and collecting a specific kind of rock. It seemed to branch out into tunnels under the nearby hills. There was a nearby structure where wood was burnt to heat the rocks, apparently, for some reason.

The dryads continued to search the area, but it was clear the place was abandoned, and quickly.

After hours of increasing unease and uncertainty, a single Slig and his pet slog came forward. He barked, in broken Kitabic, "Who are you? What you want?"

MrAbdiel

2021-09-11, 02:30 AM

A crossweaving of introductions proceeded; a charmingly grounded exchange for a coalition of divines. Atticus-Speaks-For-Me knew he was experiencing something no mortal ever had before: a parliament of powers, peaceful so far but destined to have some frictive moments. Many mortals had seen their gods, he surmised. But how many had seen the god of another? How many had stood in the presence of more? None but he might make such a claim.

But humility overextended is cowardice; and Atticus was burdened with too much purpose to be only awestruck, and not to be the Prophet he was made to be.

“Four divines are before me, a fifth is present through me, and more shall yet come to this place. There are divines in far places who have not striven to answer this summons, out of distrust, or disinterest, or disdain. Who can blame them? And if gods have reason to distrust one another, how much more the mortals to distrust the gods?”

“This is what my god says: 'in time, some of us will draw into coalitions to do great works; in time some of us will go to war with one another. But let not time, nor the jousting of divine wills, ever lay low this sanctum. I drew it from the earth, but it must belong to none of us - a neutral place for those who do our will in creation to meet, and speak, and reason together.'”

Beads of sweat had broken out on Atticus’ forehead, as if the act of speaking this way taxed in somewhat. His tone was his own when he spoke again: “My own task here is to lead the order of the Black Peak; the monks of this mountain who have been inducted into its secrets. Notably, receiving induction into the order grants us grand communion that transcends distance: a gift from Arah-Huana we have called the Utterance. All the inducted monks are Nechustani like myself, though they need not all be; and my god asks that you take with you these Utterers back to your own lands and peoples. In doing so, though distance may divide our peoples, they will not be victims of time, and distance.”

More Nechustani began to ascend from the interior of the summit’s chambers to join the assembly in the rotunda; uniformly clad in the rough primitive garments, uniformly possessed of the white skin and white hair the desert elves received as heritage; but diversely wearing their station on their faces. Some seemed exhausted by their lot; others bright eyed and awed at the assembly before them; still more keenly observing, but short on trust. A dozen presented themselves for now, with others to emerge at later moments.

“Further, this is what my god says: 'I will protect this mountain and the covenant it represents with all my wonders, and all my power, and all the work of my hands. All those you send to the mountain, whether to its top to speak the Utterance, or to its foot to dwell, I will protect also. Though I may set my hand against the hand of another in the turmoil of creation, I will not do so on the mountain, whether at its top, or its foot. May you also find it worthy of your protections; for there comes a time when the work of your hands will stand alone, and you will not be able to stand beside them; and they are their best protection against the hunger in the deep places, and the ravages of the sword.'”

With that, Atticus made a great exhalation; and two of the monks stepped forward to catch him by the arms as he stumbled. He smiled valiantly, pinkish blood intermingled with the sweat drops on his face, and he permitted his peers to steady him again.

“Those are the words and the wishes of my god. I urge you to plant now the seeds of kinship and good favor you will one day desire to harvest, oh mighty ones.”

Create Organisation (1AP - Reason (Diplomacy) 2/10)

The Order of The Black Peak - The Utterers

The Utterers are a group of monks whose uniting purpose is to create a network of communication to provide some stability and international fraternity among the creations of the gods. Originally founded by the Prophet of Arah-Huana, the order opened its doors to membership to any individual who could be reasonably perceived as non-hostile and willing to undertake the arduous but not agonizing path to becoming an Utterer. The gift of the Utterance initiates with the Godfather, but exists now as a self sustaining blessing anchored to the Black Peak itself, manipulated by the inner circle of the order to induct new members, or to disenfranchise those who seem sufficiently compromised that permitting them access to the Utterance seems hazardous.

All races who have an interest in communication with the wider world (whether sincere or duplicitous) are ideal candidates for Utterers. Players are welcome (and explicitly invited!) to have Nechustani Utterers or Utterers of their own creations maintaining an Utterer Priory in their own settlements and societies, offering their nominally neutral services; as well as having individuals tagging along with expeditions to enable them to ‘call home’. Gods cannot become Utterers (they don’t need to); but they are welcome to make Utterers their chosen heroes, or to send their chosen heroes for training to become one.

Blessing (0AP - Reason (Diplomacy) 2/10)

The Utterance

Using the Perdition Sluice to manipulate the overflow of soul matter, Arah-Huana has created a kind of ‘soul’ for the Black peak itself, though it remains technically inert. Induction into the Utterers involves teasing out a fine invisible cord of that soul-stuff and tethering it to the spirit of a willing applicant. This even works with undead, who have no soul; but whose spirit is still ‘adhesive’ enough to bond to the cord. The net effect is that all Utterers have access through personal discipline to the Black Peak, and therefore to each other; and this connection can be used for communication as surely as one can strum a taut string. The secondary benefit of this binding is a sudden and start development of linguistic skills that flourish and render the Utterer a budding polyglot. The primary benefit is more incredible.

All members of the Utterers are able to communicate to each other by entering a trance state, incanting the rote sounds under their breath, and ‘reaching out’ along that soul-tether either for one or more known parties, or else at the physically closest recipient to a known location. The Utterer/s at the other end of this call experience a mental ‘ping’ that is usually a polite, unheard chime; but can grade all the way up to a migraine depending on the urgency of the initiator’s request.

This communication comes in the form of comprehensible flutters of shared vision and sensation pushed back and forth to one another as an abstracted kind of discussion (or even argument). The communication is always clear, so long as the Utterer is of sound mind and good training; but the detail is limited. One might warn another that an army numbering in the thousands is approaching his hostess’s encampment; and could transmit some imagery of that rolling horde. They could not livestream a mental image of the horde in real time, with annotations about troop movements. An Utterer can transmit messages that can be reasonably paraphrased at the other end (“The king agrees to your terms and will send you his physicians”); they cannot transmit verbatim content such as the exact wording of a contract or the words to a magic spell. Some things, you just need to write down and send the hard way.

Blessing (1AP - Reason (Diplomacy) 3/10)

Sanctuary of the Mountain’s Top

The sanctuary of the upper peak and the monastery within the mountain’s top are divinely protected from aggression and intrigue. Mortals who try to strike one another may find themselves struck numb and fumbling for trying; assassins trying to poison a wine cask may discover halfway down the mountain that they forgot to do the job they came to do, and they had best rethink their employment situation.

Gods who wish to violate this sanctuary or to do so with their proxies will have to find some way to contend with the sanctuary blessing first.

Blessing (1AP - Reason (Diplomacy) 4/10)

Providence of the Mountain’s Foot

Presently, a small tribal cluster of Nechustani exist at the foot of the Black Peak, scraping out an existence and supplying the monks with the resources they require to live their isolated lifestyle. However, efforts by races who have the knowledge and resources to form actual coherent societies will find events conspire to encourage colonization of the mountain’s foot. Plants grow better in the shade of the mountain. Wells are easier to dig. Small saline lakes turn out to be teeming with fish. Children raised in the region become profoundly multilingual. Heroes, especially, recognize something intuitively grand or fated about the region.

3 AP Remaining.

Gnomes2169

2021-09-11, 06:17 AM

Wrath and Ruin
The devastating loss of the majority of their huntsmen had rocked the Daumer tribe, and they were left with little more than mere scraps of what they needed to continue to feed and supply themselves. After a few days the tribe fell apart, suffering a diaspora as they split and desperately hoped to find an inattentive or merciful tribe that had been more fortunate than them. Most failed, and many of them were killed by their rivals.

The surviving huntsman and his family, being useful, were adopted by a larger tribe and, once there, he told them of what had happened to his failed hunt and of the dangers of silver. The huntsman of their new tribe spread the news to huntsmen of others, and soon more Andlitir knew of the danger than were ignorant. The Huntsmen began to talk among one another excitedly, pleased to know that there was an actual worthy foe for them to fight, rather than unwitting sheep to slaughter.

Outside of that cadre of elite warriors, the idea that their foes, their prey, would actually develop a way to fight back was at first viewed by the Daumer with shock. And then, shortly after, outrage. Oh, these people had their precious metals and tools, let them have those, the Andlitir would not cower or back down from the challenge just because their prey had claws now.

The first thing they did was begin to strip down and work the bodies of those they had killed, fashioning gristly tools and armor from the leather bones of creatures they had hunted. These trophies and fetishes would be both for practical uses and to intimidate the denizens of the First World both. While there were dead things that walked on the First World that might make some mortals more used to the sight, those undead tended to be peaceful, complacent. These would be howling spirits of mist, decorated in bone, out for blood and vengeance. The difference was subtle, but it was there.

Tahr’Thua, once he heard of the disaster of a hunt, then came among his people and helped them develop a magic to destroy the tools of their enemies. This magic of Ruin was a field that shamans and huntsmen among the Daumer practiced, and it was a potent tool to deal death. Able to shatter stone, rend flesh, age metal and shred other magics, these ruinous energies were wholly bent towards destructive purposes,

But that was not all the spiteful Corpse Eater did in response to the blight that had been inflicted on his people. Going to the tribe that now sheltered the last survivor of that disastrous hunt, Tahr’Thua proclaimed, “The Worthy deserve more than a single chance at Glory.” And with that he threw back his head and let out a long, echoing scream. The spirits and souls of the two huntsmen that had died fighting would respond to that call, tugged from their journey down death’s paths to return to Hvittmaudh and their god’s side. With a pulse of divine power, the god of Winter reforged them bodies of ice, and then turned that ice to flesh as he had once before. Reborn, these huntsmen were forged new and unblemished, ready once more to return to their duty with a new tribe despite the scars that came from the memories of their death.

The huntsman who had died while he ran was left to his fate, for cowards would not benefit from blessings given to the glorious warriors that had proven their worth.

With these duties finished, Tahr’Thua returned to the First World to find the congregation of gods in order to… observe.

Nightmare of the Quetzpal’in
The twilight was still when the nightmare began. Softly, silently, a shadow fell over a village at the edge of Quetzpal’in, the mists of Hvittmaudh stretching over the sleeping place like the maw of some unseen predator. The chill winds that always accompanied these fell bridges sent chills through the community, especially the guards on patrol, as always, but thus far none within the community had experienced the horrors that could spill forth from that nightmare realm.

On this night that changed.

Instead of just settling over the village, the mists seemed to dig into the ground, to anchor themselves, and then they rippled as if they were a swallowing throat. And with that, the village was no longer on the First World, but instead within Hvittmaudh. Bitter cold began to leak into the village, stripping away heat, spreading from doors and windows to immediately form frost in every hut.

Within the Nightmare Realm, this sudden intrusion was noticed. Spreading their eight crystalline limbs, what had at first seemed like forearm-length spikes of obsidian would turn into swarms of arachnids, all of them converging almost silently on the unfortunate village.

On the First World, the mist was not satisfied with one small victim. Spreading along paths trailing out farther into the frontier, the mist probed, twisting and hunting, until it found a second and a third village, with all the farms in between. Only then did the maw of Hvittmaudh finally stop, satisfied, and until the sun finally rose it remained in place, refusing to give back its prey.

The farmers and herders were, for the most part, untouched. The Andlitir and other monsters of the Hvittmaudh did not spend time with these smaller targets when larger, more tempting options were available. A few animals did end up disappearing, but most of them had just been startled and run into the mists and, when the world returned to normal, they were found in the coming days and weeks.

The villages that had been swallowed up were picked over by two rival Daumer tribes and the horrid, heat-stealing spiders. The victims of the Andlitir were dragged away into the mists, the spiders instead dragged them to the nearest hut, shack or other shelter to begin their feasting. And thus the spiders and their victims would still be there when the villages returned to the First World.

At the Black Peak
Tahr'Thua's arrival coincided with the announcement made by another god's mouthpiece, and it would make the large creature pause before he took to a side of the chamber and sat. The raven in his horns would make the first noise that announced his presence to the congregation, a low grockled caw as she cleaned her feathers, but beyond that he remained silent and simply watched the proceedings. Part of him was amused at the thought that he'd likely been in the group of gods the others considered disinterested in the meeting (at least, if any other god had even known he'd existed,) but it was hard for the face that was literally an eyeless skull to demonstrate just how smug he felt at subverting those deity's expectations.

When approached by one of the Utterers, the god turned his sightless gaze upon the mortal and stated, “I am Tahr'Thua, Howler in the Night, Lord of Winter, Weaver of Mists, and whatever else your people decide to deem me. I have nothing yet to add to these proceedings.”

An observer among nightmare
The one Who-Believes’ arrival in Hvittmaudh would not be heralded with much in the way of fanfare or hostility. While there was a tribe on the other side of the mists he and his apprentice had entered, this tribe was small, maybe three family units and with only one huntsman of each family, and they had already gathered more food and resources than they could carry from this bridge that had remained mercifully open for days on end. Unfortunately, it had begun to close and they would need to begin a journey for a new bridge soon.

Thus, the arrival of these two mortals would be more of a curiosity than it was a cause for alarm. An old man and young woman that weren’t necessarily equipped to even be in this realm weren’t a threat, but… they would find this place hard to live in. A hardness that these peoples knew only all too well. The huntsmen, always honorable as they were, argued long with the elders of the tribe, and a compromise was made.

As the mists back to the First World began to fade, one of the Huntsmen approached the one Who-Believes with two bundles of warm fur from a bear that had been slain in previous hunts, and with two sleds of food, bone and furs. The clothing was given freely, but, though they did not share the same language, the hunter did her best to communicate through gestures and attempted speech that these strangers could travel with the tribe and benefit from their protection, as long as they were willing to haul their weight.

Starting AP: 2

Rollover*2: +8 AP

-1; Blessing - Glorious Revival: (Counter to Hot Silver) Members of the Wild Hunt (not just Andlitir, though other species have little reason to join the organization at this particular moment) that fall in battle have the opportunity to be resurrected on Hvittmaudh. If a huntsman falls in battle after having claimed the lives of at least two foes, their body will fade into mist/ shatter and be reformed whole and new upon Hvittmaudh a week later. If they belong to a tribe on that plane, then they are resurrected within that tribe. A copy of the body of any being they killed that qualified them for this blessing will be formed with them (this has no effect on the actual slain creature's corpse.)

There are a few exceptions to the requirements for this blessing. If they fall in battle with a worthy foe, while under the effects of silver (or by a weapon made of that material), or while bravely standing against unfair odds, then they do not need to kill anything and they will still be reborn. Andlitir that are under the effects of silver take two weeks to resurrect rather than the standard one.

There is one way this blessing will always fail, and that's if the Huntsman died will they were fleeing. Thus, any huntsman that is overmatched and cannot safely escape will often fight more viciously and to the bitter end rather than risking a final death.
Domain Progression: War (Glory) 2/10

-2 AP; Mythic Subconcept - Ruin Magic: Ruin magic is magic dedicated to destruction exclusively. This school of magic deals high amounts of force damage, twists bodies, ages victims and items, etc. The only kind of magic that could be considered semi-beneficial from this school of magic would be the ones that inspire rage and cause the target to enter a berserker state, though even that is more of a liability than it is a net positive.
Domain Progression: Destruction (Ruin) 2/10

-1 AP; Mundane Concept - Bone Crafting: Using bones and ivory to make armor, weapons, decorations, etc.
Domain Progression: Fear (Nightmares) 9/10

-1 AP; Create Monstrous Life - Frost Widows: These creatures are large spiders that look almost like they are made of black and crimson glass. Frost widows hunt in packs of at least 7, though their colonies can number in the hundreds if they are not exterminated for a few years. Despite being spiders, they do not make webs. Instead, they rely on ambushes and their size to grab and drag off prey into their nests.

These creatures are born the size of fully grown rats, and can reach sizes similar to medium-sized dogs (like huskies) without needing too much food or other resources to sustain them. They do not like to be in open areas, preferring to live in buildings, caves or other interior places from which they can spring their ambushes more effectively.

Frost widows can sustain themselves either on flesh or on heat that they absorb from their surroundings and their victims. Thus, the ones on Hvittmaudh (where both sources of food are much more scarce) are typically more aggressive and smaller than the ones on the First World, while the ones on the First World are much larger and do not move around as much to hunt. Frost widows in a particularly hot climate, such as a desert, rarely need to act, and only move when they are ready to breed or need to defend themselves (these ones can reach much larger sizes, closer to malamutes or small bears, than widows in colder climates).

Given they absorb heat to sustain themselves, it is somewhat easy to find these creatures. The areas they inhabit tend to be notably colder than natural, and a particularly large colony in, say, a hut or hunting lodge can make the building look like it has been frozen from the inside. Once a colony is cold enough to be visibly frosted over, it is likely that some widows have moved on to start a new colony in order to harvest more heat.
Domain Progression: Fear (Nightmares) 10/10

Ending AP: 5

Domain Progression:
Fear (Nightmares) 10/10 (Domain get!)
Deception (Mists) 9/10
War (Glory) 2/10
Destruction (Ruin) 2/10

ezekielraiden

2021-09-11, 07:17 AM

Speaking in Light

Arkhos, after introducing himself, felt more and more that he had come unprepared for this meeting. After all, its purpose--and his--was to speak for the children, to represent and protect them. And he saw how close Arah-huana has become to his own children: that, chosen from among them, one was permitted to speak with the weight of divine words. The wheel of law reflected on this choice. To bind oneself so closely, not out of a desire for control, but in order that there be true understanding, and true growth. Growth in the children...and growth in their creator.

Yes. The way awaited. He had but to climb it.

As Atticus spoke his deity's call, not to arms but to accord, the Woven Oath wove yet again, but this time, with his own essence. The Solar Disc, his spinning wheel, with his own ribbon of light the thread. Before the assembled deities, a new form took shape--distant kin to Atticus' nature, but without the mortal host. Light, woven into the shape of a Quetzpal'in, for it was for them he came, and to them he would return. The Speaker of Light.

"I welcome these terms, Speaker Atticus, and should like to add another." The newly-formed scalekin-shape gestured wide, and the Solar Disc floated behind his head, light behind light. "If it be welcome to this assembled host: May this place be not merely the eye at rest when all around it rages the storm; may this place be also a beacon to those who would build, rather than tear down." Arkhos then spoke louder--still somewhat unused to such a semi-concrete form. "I propose that, in times of peace, this Peak be a warm hearth, 'round which all who value the struggle to do better might find aid and allies alike; in times of war, a place of sharing, that those who suffer might find succor."

But just as suddenly as he had transformed, Arkhos took on a far-away look. "...I should like to hear if any of our brethren have terms of their own, Arah-Huana, before the Oath is sealed. I...shall listen...but my full attention...is needed elsewhere..." The Speaker of Light remained behind, mute but listening. The Solar Disc disappeared, returning to Anahuac. For he had heard his children's cry, and ice gripped his heart of hearts.

The Day of Black Sun

Death had come to his children, but it was not the death he had foreseen. Arkhos cursed himself for his distraction. He had permitted lofty ideas of peace and unity to pull him away from his children at their hour of direst need. But what had happened? How? He had been gone but only some few days. There was great wailing and gnashing of teeth within the Pyramid of the Sun, as the Quetzpal'in cried out in fear, and rage, and despair. "Why do you not answer, great father?"

The Solar Disc appeared before them. But it was not as it had been. Gone was the brilliant light that normally shone from it, replaced with the black of night, of sunless and moonless sky. All that remained of Arkhos' golden shine was a razor-thin ring of gold just past the disc's edge (https://media.istockphoto.com/vectors/black-round-with-gold-light-ring-vector-id1127128266?k=20&m=1127128266&s=612x612&w=0&h=abtTwuwAXhGmZedb-m8Q1jHCIx3Sqlkmh1M3Dt6b-L0=). "My children. Your tears and rage have been heard. What has happened?" The words were as sharp as blades.

The priestess that had stood before him before, now somewhat older but clearly having long received the Blessing of Vigor, stood again before him, her voice unsteady but unyielding. "My lord, a harsh and terrible fate has befallen the villages of the east. Just after your departure, a dense mist arose, like that which came when I was but a child."

"Yes...a mist wrought by another of Divine make. Continue."

"My lord, they came." Her voice broke, and she took a moment to steady herself before continuing. "We...we know not who they are, or why they hunt. There was a time, between the setting and raising Kairos, where the villages where not there. They were not anywhere. When Kairos rose, they were returned...but broken, almost empty, awash in blood. Yet some few survived the nightmare."

The disc trembled ever so slightly in the air. "Of so many Quetzpal'in, only a few were spared...bring the healthiest among them to me." She, and the other priests, did as they were told. The young man brought before them looked haunted, like an icy chill had wound around his very heart and would not leave. "Speak, child. I must know who, and what, hurt you so. I must honor the oath."

"M-my lord, they were, they were creatures of mist, and ice. Smooth-skinned th-they were, but cold, so very cold. Even their h-hunger, their s-slaughter, were c-c-cold. And the spiders. Like spikes of b-black, sk-kittering in the dark. I s-saw them attacking people...a b-bite would freeze a limb solid. And then, they w-would eat...but they shunned the light." He seemed to gain a small measure of strength, simply from speaking of it to Arkhos and standing in his light, where the frigid raiders and the black-rock spiders would not go, but the latter knew these scars would not heal soon, if at all. The youth continued, "Their land is not like the land you have given us. It is, it is d-dead, and empty, and K-Kairos does not shine..."

"I understand, my child. Go, and rest. You have honored me, and your people, this day. Without your help, this wrong might go unaddressed. Pray, do not add to it by prolonging your suffering: my love shall be with you, now and always."

The young lizardman clearly brightened at the words, but in his eyes, there remained the tiniest seed of doubt. I know not who you are, fellow Divine, but this day you have taken more than blood and life from me. You have taken faith. You have sown doubt in my Oaths. Vengeance shall be mine.

"Look you now, Children of my Light, unto my gifts old and new. You have suffered, because you are gentle, because you have not known the ways of war. You shall suffer thus no longer, though the journey shall be long, and labor great. Under my Light, shall you become fierce." Surmounting the peak of the Pyramid, the still-midnight-black Solar Disc floated, and the Loom of Light wove again, this time shaping earth and wood, sand and stone, creating a series of arches on the far side of the plaza. Where necessary, Quetzpal'in buildings were shifted aside, never causing harm, but with a brusque speed and impatience, such that some of their occupants felt fear nonetheless. "Learn the secrets of calling upon other creatures for their might, not just to fight or hunt, but to till the field, and feed and clothe you, and arm you against those who will come again. And from these Arches, call forth the first of your beasts of burden, to aid your labors, and slake your thirst, and serve you well. For now, a beast to build, and feed. In time...those red in tooth and claw."

From the arches, there came...strange beasts, unfamiliar to the Quetzpal'in. They were furred and graceful, but large, with wide, cloven hooves, and from their heads sprouted branch-like antlers, though the antlers of females were smaller. They were sturdy beasts, but light on their feet; a grown male could carry two adult Quetzpal'in and yet easily wind through a garden without crushing its flowers. Mazatl, the lizardfolk called them, though later others would call them "deer," albeit much larger than mundane specimens of their kind. Their milk was rich, their skins sturdy but supple, their antlers harder than stone. Strong and fast, smart and hardy, truly a beast fit to serve in nearly all ways. Later, from the Codex, they would learn how to shape specific breeds to even better suit specific needs, but ever did the mazatl remain versatile and reliable, even those taken to lands far afield.

The Solar Disc remained silent for a time, but slowly, terribly, terribly slowly, the inky black bled away from it, leaving the lens clear again. "But, in your labors, forget not that there are those worthy of your gentleness, my children." Arkhos sounded...tired. But he continued, now in gentler words. "I have taught you to love and cherish the earth, that you might not raise the ire of those who think as you do, but are rooted deep within that earth. Now, I give unto you a new blessing. May you never suffer the wrath you have not seen, that which does not strike to sow fear, but to snuff out. With time and skill, you may speak the language of the Forest, and see the world not just in single leaves, but in mighty hosts of trees."

With these labors done, the Solar Disc returned to where the Speaker of Light had been, mutely listening, at the meeting of divines--but the Disc remained in its transparent state. Arkhos doubted any who would agree to these accords was responsible for inflicting this nightmare upon his children. Nor was OGAM, for OGAM's children were bound more closely to this world than any other, and their wrath was absolute, not calculated and incomplete. Who, then? He would learn who had hunted and killed his children, if not that day, then soon. And then the hunters would become the hunted.

He did not know how close his enemy stood.

Remaining AP: 4

Create Major Utility Artifact, discounting Create Monstrous Life (4 AP, discounted): The Animal Arches [War (Tactics) 6/10]

Create Mundane Concept: Animal Husbandry (free, discounted)

Bless: the Language of the Forest (free, discounted). Quetzpal'in can learn, through years of meditation in natural places and well-tended gardens, to speak the slow and vast language of the Ents. They are not as good at it as actual Ents would be, but this blessing enables them to at least make some kind of connection with the Ents that normal mortals are incapable of making. This language is not magical--it's simply the ordinary way that Ents speak, enabled for this non-Ent species--so it provides no real benefit for magical effects that apply to plants.

Create Monstrous Life: Mazatl, domesticated deer megafauna. Imagine a sambar deer (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sambar_deer) sized up to moose++. Extremely versatile animal, able to act as a mount, a draft/pack animal, and other labor benefits. Also an excellent source of milk and high-quality fertilizer, and seasonally shed their durable antlers, which are nearly as hard as metal and much more flexible. They grow quickly and are hardy enough to handle a variety of environments and food sources without issue. Can be bred for very high intelligence--comparable to a smart dog. Essentially, they're the perfect domesticated animal: preternaturally useful both alive and when slaughtered and harvested, preternaturally adaptable to nearly any environment, and preternaturally strong and agile.

Remaining AP: 4-4 = 0

Domain Progress:
War (Tactics) 6/10
Sun (Revelation) 8/10

Dusk Raven

2021-09-11, 10:28 AM

[OOC: I thought the cutoff was three weeks. Oops.]

There were many things in the beginning that sprang from the fallen Titans, but one being in particular, emerging late from the essence of void, did not concern herself with what lay on the ground, but with the skies above. She noted that the sun was too bright to look at, and so her eyes were drawn to the night sky. But the night sky had precious little in it, only the recently-formed moon, and the being felt compelled to fill it with something - not a single great thing, but a multitude of little things that individually were of little concern, but together would form something beautiful.

And so, she found a chunk of obsidian, and broke off a razor-sharp chunk of it before cutting her palm with it. The blood flowed onto the stone, imbuing it with power, and causing light to glow from within the darkness. Then, she cast it into the sky, where it soared higher and higher until it became nothing but a point of light in the black sky. She repeated the process, over and over, until the night was filled with glittering lights. The lights were not spaced evenly, for she had simply threw them into the sky without wanting to see the final product. But when she did finally look to the sky, she smiled, for the irregular patterns and asymmetry had a beauty of their own. She called the points of light "stars."

However, it did not take her long to notice that the points of light were falling back to earth. Thinking quickly, she reached out with her power, and froze them in pace, halting their movement. This, however, meant that they would not change their position relative to each other, and Silrain wasn't sure if she liked this arrangement. So, she took twelve more stars and, this time, sent them into the sky with magic that allowed them to drift across the sky. These would be called "planets."

She would spend more time with this, creating comets, nebulae, and other celestial phenomena. By the time she was finished, there were thousands of stars in the sky - so many that, it is said, every so often she loses track of one, and it falls to earth, still charged with magic and divine power...

canjowolf

2021-09-11, 04:24 PM

Slingid

At the Black Peak of Reason

Slingid was the last to depart, but the first to arrive. He had originally intended not to bother to go to the conference. It seemed like a waste of time. Talk was cheap and he believed, in his arrogance, that the Sligs needed no help. And certainly, they had no incentive to help others.

To his chagrin, he realized his blindness. The Sligs were distressingly few, and he lacked the power to defend them from all the enemies that might come. The Calling had infiltrated his society, and while it seemed benign, it was a power Slingid could not match. The Monster called OGAM still lurked at the core of the world, and Ze had thoughtlessly massacred a society that outnumbered the Sligs by an order of magnitude. And these were at least comprehensible threats. Something has just come from thin air and ripped away one of only four living Queens!

So Slingid flew to the summit, humbled. He introduced himself to the mortal host and perched, awaiting those who would come...

Tloc

Tloc entered the Orchard where The Circle met, telling his pet Slog to heel. He was greeted by a particularly imposing al-Atfal, one who knew him already!

This al-Atfal was clearly a leader, and.. though he could not easily guess, his vague understanding of mammalian physiology led him to suspect she was female. Of course, then, she was a leader. Tloc understood, intellectually, gender worked differently for al-Atfal... but his presuppositions aligned with reality, at least to a degree.

"Well Met! I confess I am at a disadvantage, for I do not know of you as you know of me, honored one.

I am, indeed, Tloc, one of those by chance away from the Hive House when the Mists came for Glimblisk. Only 4 of us lived, and our glorious Queen was... taken, also.

Am I given to understand I address now the Queen of the Circle? If so, I am honored and humbled.

I seek to learn of your arts, to better prepare my people to defend themselves. In exchange, I can offer what knowledge I have, mainly on the creation and maintenance of magical constructs and land husbandry."

Just then, as a sign from Slingid, something happened that had never happened before. The eggs of the copper trees hatched, each of them in the world, including those gathered near there to be used for their material, into male cockatoos, all of copper, with a green patina about the flight feathers and bright red crests.

Sligs have a radically different chromosomal schema than mammals. This leads to three completely distinct castes that, unlike vertebrate sexes, can be clearly defined in all cases. The two reproductive castes, called "Queens" and "Drones" have octoploid chromosomes, while "Workers" are haploid.

A Queen is a Slig that has a W chromosome and 7 Z chromosomes, while a Drone has 8 Z chromosomes. Slig workers have one Z chromosome. Drones are tiny, animalistic, and fuse like parasites into the body of a huge Queen at maturity. Typically as many as three Drones fuse with each Queen.

As a result of this, the Slig population, though tiny, is actually much more genetically diverse than might be assumed. Also, the most common fear of inbreeding, the manifestation of undesirable recessive traits, cannot occur in Slig workers, as having only one chromosome, instead of a pair, they lack recessive traits. The threat occurring in reproductive castes is also much reduced, due to the much larger number of chromosomes able to overcome a single bad gene in each individual.

Sociologically, Sligs have two genders, "Worker" and "Queen," as Drones lack sapience. These genders always use male and female pronouns, respectively.

A new Magic

Sligs had a little knowledge of magic, to maintain their prosthetic legs. And Sligs all had a familiarity with smoke. So it was no surprise when Bistr'Ghom, a wizard in the Core Hive, found a way to combine them.
What was surprising is what he found. At first he did not understand. It seemed like a map. One that moved, but slowly, over the course of hours.

Then he concentrated on focusing it on his location. And it was unlike the landscape around him.

Perhaps this discovery would have been discarded, had he not looked up. He had modeled the clouds!

From this beginning, the mapping of the currents of sky and ocean began.

It was some time before the fateful day a bored Fumomancer accidentally Scryed messages intended for the Garden, and others looked on with envious eyes.

The Second Swarming

The second time new Queens went out to form new colonies from the Core Hive was a great celebration, greater even than the first, 17 years earlier.

But it was also different. As before, three Queens were being sent out. The first went South, to resettle the lands claimed by Glimblisk. The other two, however, had grander plans. They had their chosen build them boats. They would be the first Sligs to leave Piedwald, guided to new lands by the new knowledge of Fumomancy.

One sought to go to The Garden, to see the strange things her Scryers had intercepted. Another sought to go North, counseled by Ytrel cadre.

At The Garden

The Queen and her Chosen found themselves at the Gardener temple. Led there by visions in smoke. Perhaps, had they paid more attention to the more mundane visions, or scouted ahead, they would have known this placed lacked enough quality wood for a longhouse and a bad series of storms were coming, I being the rainy season.

They planted their Borametz birds and began culturing their air-kelp, but the land was different, and they were ill-prepared. Their Meeps and Scrabs were only enough to establish breeding stock, not to provide meat.

They squatted miserably in the Temple, their supplies dwindling, even as their Queen grew ever more swollen with her first clutch of eggs. The Gardeners, in their pity, started bringing them charity, and some began to show them their ways of living, better adapted to this land.

It was a kindness many might later have regretted...

Create Mostrous Life- Cupratoos 1 AP
Unlike the purely undead metal trees, copper trees can breed as other Borametz, by growing eggs that hatch into cockatoos that bury themselves and grow into trees

Darkness ( Forest) 4/10

Create Mythic Subconcept- Fumomancy 1AP (shared with Canjowolf)
This magic allows the real-tine scrying of fluids such as ocean currents and weather patterns, as well as the transmission of visual images. All rendered in the medium of smoke.

(Society) Pioneering 7/10

Blessing- trade currents 1AP
It is very fast for even crude boats to get to nearby continents if they know to take advantage of currents in the ocean. Not necessarily safe, though.

Society (pioneering) 8/10

1) Slingid is at the conference
2) Tloc introduces himself to Tajira, with a minor misunderstanding

3) an OoC description of Slig genetics and why inbreeding isn't an immediate problem and how exactly their genders work

4) Fumomancy is discovered!

5) Three more Slig Hives are founded. One resettles Glimblisk. One goes to Thirta- Din at the urging of The Calling cultists. One goes to the Garden.

6)The Hive trying to set up in The Garden falters, ends up Squatting in a Gardener temple and living on hand-outs.

Setting: The Garden, Slig Landfall
Actors: The gardeners, the phihid, the slig

The coming of the slig had been first seen by the kikiri birds who flew between the islands surround the great Garden. Then had come the scent of their ships and their fires, blowing across the waves. When the slig finally made landfall, the Phihid on the shore were ready for them, and greeted these foreigners with smells of fruit and safety, as Shadow had instructed.

However, it seemed that the slig were not ready to respond in kind to the greetings of the Phihid. The cephalopodic beings with their animated wooden limbs began planting the seeds of bird trees. Conifers in the jungle. The Phihid and the gardeners grew their tools with careful planning and guesswork, taking that which had succeeded before in the hopes that it would succeed again. The slig seemed to build their tools afterwards. Little forethought. Little attention paid to the dangers ahead. They were like the phihid of the caves and waves who followed a siren call to the depths and were lost to the histories.

Although the shore was relatively dry and open, the jungles were hot, humid, and full biting insects which traveled through the terrifying ever-present mists. Some of the workers who traveled into the depths grew lethargic and entered a sleep from which they did not awaken. Some were attacked by great cats or hungry serpents or sharp eyed raptors, feathers dappled by the sunlight through the trees. The mental signals sent back to She-Who-Is-Ever-A-Part were of fear and fatigue.

When the greetings of the Phihid were ignored, Shadow decided to send the gardeners, beings more similar to the slig and harder to ignore. They came to the new colony as a trio in flower bedecked fiber robes carrying great bundles of netting on their backs. Stopping well away from the settlement, the three gardeners planted poles as stakes and pulled their net baskets taunt between the stakes to form a table of cables. They cast woven rugs over these tables to form a solid surface, and set objects upon the three tables.

On the first was a bowl of fruits of many colors, such as were eaten by the gardeners. The slig were hungry, and their most immediate need appeared to be food.

On the second was placed a bowl out of which grew brightly colored flowers with a strong stench. The clouds of insects were not visible around the gardeners, nor around this table as the gardeners retreated.

On the third table was a third bowl. In this one grew a thick, heavy stemmed plant with small white flowers. It oozed a fuzzy black resin, and the gardeners had been careful not to touch the blackness.

The three gardeners then retreated back to the edge of the sligs' clearing, that the sligs would be unafraid to approach the woven tables.

Starting 4
-1: Curse with Sleeping Sickness - The Garden is a dangerous jungle and those who are unprepared will fall victims to its hazards. One of these is Sleeping Sickness, an ailment caused by parasites which will find a way to exist in most animal-like being and will cause the victim to fall asleep and never wake up. Those who fall asleep in this way have powerful dreams while under the effect. (nature - parasitism)

bc56

2021-09-12, 05:15 PM

Vanishing Sparks
In time, the two warrior gods, whose stone blades channeled starfire to destroy and reforge, were forgotten.
But like many things forgotten, they were not truly gone. One day, they would return...

An Ember Adrift on the Wind
Her masters gone, Ember, the first of her kind, was without purpose. She constructed from the wood of taiga pines a raft, and let the currents carry her where they would. She knew what she wanted to do: to seek other Kumiho across the world. She knows her kin come from the sky; but she has never met another.
And so, she finds her way to the northern shore of Abdita, one fiery nine-tailed fox seeking others of her kind, or anyone, really.

[B]The Third Death/B]
Aslido He-Who-Raises was dead, then dead again. He had been a petty and unsuccessful warlord in his time, a necromancer by profession, but one whose attempt at conquest was unceremoniously destroyed and forgotten.
Now, for all time, he wandered the Arroyo through a landscape of blistering magma and driving winds.
In frustration and despair, he gave up. He cast himself into the fire.
He was not destroyed. Not yet. But he found himself somewhere else, and entire world of burning heat and flame. Two great beings stood over him. They seized him and hurled him in a fire so hot the spirit itself became soft and malleable. They retrieved him and hammered him out; burning away impurities and refining good qualities.
Some would say that the entire process of traveling the Arroyo and then some was carried out in moments; its mission resonated with the twin gods who called that great forge home. But Aslido He-Who-Raises was only the first to be so remade, others would later follow. When each was finished, their memories had been burned dim, though maybe with time they would return. These reforged souls would not return to the Wending; their new masters had other purposes for them. They were instead cast back to the First World to nestle with a newborn child, next to its own soul.
Starting AP: 12/16
Weave Plane: The Forge of Hearts [Craft (smithing) 9/10]
The Forge is the private abode of Rend and Right, where they stay and work at nearly all times. It is a small plane, only the size of a couple rooms. It is filled with firelight and burning heat, and dominated by the forge in which anything, from copper to hearts and minds, can be smithed.
Create Portal: The Gate through Fire [??? 2/10]
The flames in the Arroyo now hold a secret: those that hurl themselves in, willingly risking destruction, are whisked away to the Forge of Hearts to be remade. However, this is a closely-guarded secret; those who undergo this process will remember nothing of it.
Bless: Twin Souls [Craft (smithing) 10/10] Some spirits of the dead find their way to Rend and Right's forge, where they are remade, stripped of their memories, and returned to the First World. From the perspective of those on the First World, occasionally a child is born with two minds in one body. These young ones are magically gifted, naturally talented in whatever their older soul was skilled in in life. They do not recall what happened to their elder self in their past life at first, but over time, memories arise. Such is the test that Rend and Right set forth for these chosen few: the imparted soul belonged once to a person of unrepentant evil. How does the new being, who carries that soul and its abilities, respond to the memories of the evil they had done in a past life? Will it define them, or will they defy it?"
Remaining AP: 6/16

moonfly7

2021-09-12, 08:51 PM

A Request, and a plan

As Tahrthua took his place away from the others, he recieved a friendly, but strangely knowing nod from Kalvrankin, and a whispers only in the mist gods ear, soft, but in a jovial and laughing tone, friendly. Like one might use to a particularly skilled opponent in a friendly poker game.
“Welcome, friend. I must thank you, the story you are writing, it's ripples will make the other tales so much more full of life! I look forward to what more devious twists you have planned!”

And after this, and the words of Arkhos, Kalvrankin spoke once again to the prophet of Arahuana.

“You're Utterer's will find a hearty welcome and warm beds in the Orchard. They will be welcomed as honored friends, for surely such a responsibility as the one they shoulder is worthy of our thanks.

And while we speak of our people, may I ask for your gods understanding for the creation of mine. I do not ask for forgivness, but for him to know that they were born of a desire to see a story continue, not to slight or corrupt his cycle. A cycle that I now see I threw a twist into with my impulsive actions. I hope that given time, if you do not already, that you will accept my people as simply another step along the path of life and death. And, if it is not rude of me, I would ask a favor. My people are communal in nature, with a deep love of their families and friends. Community is a deep part of their lives, it would mean much to them if you would allow me to create within the wending a place for the spirits of those of them who are worthy to rest and mingle together in a paradise of their lords making.”

With this, Kalvrankin steps back. He has little else to say in this meeting, unless the subject of the Calling is broached. Unlike the lord of mists and icy death, that thing in the deep wants to keep and steal, not just devour and destroy. And there is a difference, one sends his people home to a well deserved rest, and another keeps them in the same dark he himself felt for too long.

He also felt a hole, here he was, busy with other gods. Talking and being all proper, when there was a whole world to explore! Like that beautiful Garden! And that Undead Tree that was Ogam but also not! so much beauty to see and so many stories to observe. And he could have been with his people right now, keeping them company through the bad times!

Hmmm, yes. Soon, soon he would need to be two places at once. He would reach the tree. and then it would begin.

Innovation and Change

Amidst Tajir's work with the slig hero, she kept detailed notes on her new theories and ideas. True Tempered metals could theoretically be made many times more useful if they could exist within an Order Member, but doing so was dangerous, as the noble sacrifice of a willing participants first story Attested. It was actually Lyra She-Who-Searches-For-Answers, the craftsman who sacrificed her mortal life for the test, who first came up with the theory.

"What if, just as adding Mana to metal brings out new properties, other things could do the same? What if all things have the capacity to change, even just slightly, the matter of all other things? Perhaps among the vast unknown materials out there, there lies an answer to our problem."

And so, Lyra set out to a remote and secluded place, and took wither her 10 likeminded fellows. And for many months they did research and send out envoys to collect knowledge and samples from the different schools and temples established around piedwald. And slowly but surely, progress was made. It was a day of much strangeness when a bubbling bronze beaker was poured into a puddle of water and the puddle shifted from liquid to solid, or when the air could be made into a ball. And even stranger when the careful measurments and calculations made for Lyra's craft did shift the hue of a golden egg to the dull grey of Lead, and back again.

And in this Tajir was very pleased, and she and her compatriot began the work to make their metal a liquid, and unharmful to their people. But this work was done in secret, unlike their masters gifts. For Tajir had only recently left Aslido He-Who-Raises laying headless in the dirt. And she knew the dangers that might rise if this Art, this Changing-Of-Things, this Alchemy, were to become as well taught and shared as their other magics. They would not be able to keep it totally secret, not forever. But they could slow the flow of information, and for a time keep their people and others safe from it's abuse.

Create Mythic Concept(2 AP Shared with Whose-Voice-The-Deluge) Alchemy: Alchemy is the mixing of different isotopes and compounds to create new effects and results, with just a pinch of other-worldly mystiscm thrown in for good Measure. Alchemy can change metals into other metals, Change an objects state of matter, and any number of other strange and wonderous effects, even, perhaps those effecting life force itself. Alchemy is not magic, as it does not require the use of mana, but ingredients used in ALchemy can some times be magical in origin, like True Tempered metals, or the living bones of a necromanced creature. Change(Rebirth) (3/10)

AP before roll over: 4

4+4=8

8-2 =6

Current AP: 6

Feathersnow

2021-09-12, 09:03 PM

Slingid:

In the Garden

The Sligs look on the three offerings. It is clear only one is meant as food, and they take it gratefully.

The offering of flowers, they are confused by, until they notice it's strong smell and how it seems to repel the incessant biting flies. They take it to their Queen and spread it around the Temple. After gathering more of the flowers, they realize they can multiply its effect by carefully roasting then burning it, then magically controlling the smoke.

The third offering is one the Gardeners avoided touching, and the Sligs did not understand it. Then they found a dead meep near one of the plants in the wild, and the meaning became obvious. They systematically, but carefully, cleared the white-and-black vines, as they called them, from the pastures of the meeps. They even cleared them from the pastures of the scrabs, though they rarely ate raw plants.

As the Gardeners would have known, had the Sligs been able to ask, the semi-tropical adapted Borametz did poorly in the equatorial jungle, and the air-kelp suffered and did not survive at all. Careful husbandry might eventually lead them to raise a breed of stork-cedar that would thrive, and the quetzal-cycad seemed to thrive, but storks were hard to feed in their animal phase, and the quetzal was an oddity that would take years to grow into numbers to safely harvest.

The Chicken-Junipers were still their main crop, but they needed both shade and artificial drainage, and that meant labor. Even then, the crops were meager.

In desperation, the Sligs tried reseeding the fruits given them by the Gardeners, and these faired much better. Once the Gardeners saw this attempt, they offered rootstock and cuttings, to ensure the Sligs did not fail. The Sligs it seemed, were not completely ignorant of proper horticulture, for they understood these offerings!

Plantains, yams, 0sweet banana, and papaya were particularly effective at meeting the needs of the Sligs and their livestock.

The Sligs had by this time doubled in number and built a longhouse near the Temple they had previously been squatting in. The Gardeners were relieved they understood to build a slanted roof for the rainy season.

Thirtha-Din

The colony that ventured North was more successful, at first. The chicken-junipers and air-kelp seemed to thrive in the volcanic land recommended to the new Queen by Ytrel cadre. The relative lack of native trees led to the new hive living in caves, which, while odd, was not unpleasant with the ability to control airflow from their fires granted by the fumomancers.

But soon things began to disappear. Things of value, especially. The Queen investigated the minds of her hive and saw the same pattern. An inescapable urge to toss valuables into the pits in the caves.

In desperation, the Queen herself went into the darkness, porter constructs carrying gifts of food and ale. She shouted, In her own voice " WHAT DO YOU WANT? I WOULD SEEK AN ACCORD!"

The Seadrinker heard her.

Tloc
Tloc took well to life in The Circle. Like most Sligs, his mind was a blank canvas, easily filled by the right stimuli. He was the first to learn the secrets of Tumbaga, and that lesson made teaching others easier.
He also understood that Slingid had chosen copper as the prime strain of breeding metallic birds for a reason. There would come a time when Sligs would die of old age, though that day was still many cycles of Jubilee and Swarming the future. Who would hear their voices then? Copper, enhanced by the magic of Kalvrankin, would preserve their words and the great Sagas of the Sligs, without recourse to the strange method of "writing" that seemed alien to him.
His greatest discovery, at least in immediate effect, though, was the chance incorporation of Zinc nails into the many prototype legs he and Tajira tried building.
Zinc was an odd metal, the only common metal that had yet to show its True Temper Blessing. Until later that week, when Tloc had realized that he had not needed the cantrips to feed the animation magic of the legs.
All during this time, he had been in regular contact with other Sligs and the Circle Missionaries in their hives via Fumomanctic scrying. The sign language developed had become elaborate, and closely modeled to, and quickly grew as rich as, the Sligs own language.
When he shared this new knowledge, it launched a new wave of trade and goodwill between the various Kalvrankinic, Kitabic, and Slig communities, as guardian constructs joined silver weapons as common defenses against a return of the mists.
The Black Peak of Reason
At last, the Parrot spoke.
"I am Slingid, God of the Sligs. I have come because I have realized that I alone cannot protect people from every threat. An entire Slig hive was recently ripped away and vanished by mysterious creatures coming from the mists. The Great Tree OGAM lurks in the deep places, and no one knows how or when it's mindless destructiveness will next manifest. Even the strange force that calls things to the deep is actively proselytizing and, though it seems benign, I know others of you do not trust it.
So, in desperation, I seek the counsel of my fellows. What is to be done?'

Starting AP 0+4

Legendary Society (as yet unnamed) 2 AP (shared with The Calling)
A Group of Slig Cultists convinced a Slig Queen to colonize Thirtha-Din, where she joined forces with the Seadrinkers in exchange for protection.
Evil (greed) 2/10

Mundane concept- Sign Language (artifact use)
Sligs and others learning this can communicate as fully with gestures as with speech.

Remaining AP 2

Zelphas

2021-09-12, 09:33 PM

Thirtha-Din: The Beginning of Slin-Thirthu

The Seadrinkers had welcomed the arrival of the Sligs... in their own way. A whole race of creatures, all designed to serve another, all perfectly suited to obey unthinkingly the will of another... it was as though the answer to their problems had been delivered to them upon the finest of worked gold. The only problem at the moment was that the will that controlled the Sligs was not their own will, but that of another; how to suborn this will filled the thoughts of the Seadrinkers when their thirst did not overwhelm them, when they toiled in their mines and began to wonder if they needed to toil themselves at all.

And then, the one who owned the will of the Sligs came into their caverns herself. Truly, the Seadrinkers were exalted above all mortal creatures; just look at how their problems solved themselves, without their need to raise a finger in effort? Indeed, effort was for the lowly. This became the rule of the society that developed, but first:

The Queen's voice echoed and died in the caverns, only silence answering her... at first. Then, movement, vast movement, of something that barely fit within this grand cavern, a mass of bone and muscle and white, unblinking eyes. The Seadrinker stepped ponderously over to the Slig Queen, each step shaking the cavern they stood in. It moved without hesitance or concern, certain of its own power in the face of these puny things. It did not stop until it stood over the Slig Queen, its trunk waving slightly, its bulbous eyes boring into her face.

Then, one word reverberated in her mind. If the Seadrinkers could moderate their tone, the Sligs never learned it, for they always spoke in the mind of the queen in the same overwhelming tone.

What did the Seadrinker want?

WATER

There was more, of course. Eventually. But this was the first and greatest demand of the Seadrinkers to their new chattels, and it never faded in its intensity.

0 AP + 4 AP = 4 AP

Create Legendary Society (Slin-Thirthu) -2 AP (Shared with Slingid): The Seadrinkers protect the Sligs, certainly; they defend their supply line as much as possible. But they become obsessed with the concept of sloth, of delegating all of their needs and work to others so that they may sit resplendent in their own depths. THe most powerful Seadrinker is the one that needs to do nothing at all, only wait to be watered and presented with great metal ores and ever deeper caverns to nest in. (Domain Progression: Society (Thralldom) 9/10)

4 AP - 2 AP = 2 AP Remaining

zzzzzzzz414

2021-09-14, 02:44 AM

The Borametz Grove, North of Sailloch, Piedwald

Gellyr crossed her arms nervously as she slowly and cautiously trotted down the even dirt path. Her four companions lingered behind even more slowly, none of them eager to be in front. She couldn't really blame them. She'd heard many rather unsavory tales of the wood-eaters that dwelled here, and had fully expected to meet with some initial hostility and perhaps a bit of culture shock, but nothing like...this. The place had clearly been evacuated, and in a hurry; dropped tools and spilled carts had littered their approach, and they'd not yet found a single Slig; just unusual beasts trapped behind short walls of dead wood. (One of Gellyr's companions had suggested freeing the animals, as they appeared to have gotten stuck, but it was clear that these constructions had been made with purpose - best not to disturb them and risk making some sort of bad impression.) And then of course, there were the trees: stretching off in perfect rows all around them as far as the eye could see. She eyed the too-dead, too-clean landscape and wondered at its purpose. Had they been...trying to make a forest? If so, they were going about it quite incorrectly; the ground had been scoured of all the undergrowth that would normally support one, that would make this place into a living forest, rather than a sterile wooden labyrinth. Why, then? Gellyr pondered the stories again - the tales that said the creatures of the north ate wood as other beasts ate meat - and shivered.

Sensing her nervousness, her boar companion, Vyd, nuzzled her left hindquarter, and with a little chuckle Gellyr reached back to give them an obliging scratch behind the ears. And so, she was completely caught off-guard when the Slig jumped out in front of them with a shout, prompting her to instinctively reach for her sling and acorn-pouch before realizing what the stranger was. Her eyes brightened - a Slig, finally!

"Hello! I am known as Gellyr, and this is Vyd, my companion." she said in halting but clear Kitabic, indicating the large boar by her side. The others, drawing up closer, introduced themselves likewise, as well as the various beast companions at their sides or perched on their antlers. "We have come here on behalf of the Isle of Sailloch to the south, and the Five Forests, to greet your peoples, and hopefully to establish peace and good communication between us. Though, er, in truth, you are the first one we have met here!" she continued, rubbing one of her antlers awkwardly.

"Indeed." nodded Werrel, a dryad with two warthog-like legs and tusks to match. "Has there been some kind of disaster or attack here? We do not know what help we may be, especially if you are beset by the fog-walkers we have heard about, but we will render what aid we can."

"Also!" piped Ailwen, another bipedal dryad with short antlers, "We, ah, noticed there are quite a few animals stuck behind those big wooden constructions of yours? Do you, ah, need any help getting them out? They must be getting quite hungry and ornery at this point."

--

East of The Pyramid of the Sun, Anahuac, Cartisia

Viernan let out a gasp - partly of relief, partly of amazement - as xe finally mounted the last rocky ridge, revealing the valley below. Even with cloven goats' hooves, the journey had not been easy; the lands beyond their forest were even more treacherous than they were used to: great crumbling edifices of stone that shifted with the slightest provocation, spires of rock that threatened to impale those who made the slightest of mistakes, jagged mountains that demanded days-long detours to find safe passage between, a water crossing that had very nearly ended with them smashed to bits on the uncaring cliffs. And all through this, not one other living soul; Viernan had honestly begun to doubt that there was any other life upon this continent. But there the city was, plain as day: and what a city it was! It was difficult to make out from this distance, but they seemed to have built their own mountain with some kind of stone blocks.

"Well, let's hope its a little more, uh, welcoming than the last one." Moireann grumbled as they joined Viernan on the ridge. Viernan chuckled a little at that; a dry, cold and humorless thing, attempting in vain to dispel the pounding ice that xer companion's words had just flooded xer veins with. For truly, though the journey had been long and perilous, with many brushes with death along the way, absolutely nothing had even remotely compared to the fear that had gone through them at the scene they had stumbled upon just a few weeks prior: a village, entirely empty, but its streets and walls painted with dried blood.

Hoping for the best and preparing for the worst, Viernan hopped down onto the next ledge, descending towards the city below.

---

The Peak of Reason, Northern Abdita

Wyn and their companions had been some of the last to arrive at the meeting; for they were some of the only non-divine to make the journey, and the trip - as well as the climb up the great black mountain they had been told of - was long and arduous. They had introduced themselves as representatives of the Five Forests, and of OGAM. They nodded in agreement as Atticus-he-Speaks-For-Me said his piece and made his request, agreeing immediately to take one of the Utterers back to Fearnmag, and offering to bring volunteers back to the mountain to learn their ways. They seconded too, the notion put forth by Arkhos - that this could possibly be a place for all to come together in cooperation and growth; a place of peace and of life.

But when the great parrot spoke, that bright eagerness faded and soured. The five whispered among each other for a bit, and then one of them, Wyn, stood, their height and long gazelle-like horns cutting an impressive figure. They turned and stared directly into the eyes of the Grand Sawyer, indignation boiling in their sockets.

"We can assure you, honorable Slingid, and all others assembled, that neither OGAM nor the Five Forests desire the destruction of your people nor any other, save those who would stand opposed to the flourishing of life, or would destroy xer children. We would stand with those who cherish life, and wish to see creation grow and communicate. We have come here in peace and good faith, and we hope, honorable Slingid, that you would not turn a neutral concordance into a declaration of war."

Wyn's expression was impassive, but the tremor in their hands gave them away; they were clearly quite terrified to have spoken so defiantly to a being that could snuff them and their companions out in an instant if he wished. But such a brazen insult, directly to their faces, could not be permitted to stand - they could not call themself a true speaker for OGAM otherwise.

---

Due West of Fearnmag, Plains of Central Abdita

"HEY! HEY YOU THERE! HELLO! GREETINGS! HAIL!" Aithne galloped towards the lone figure resting beneath the similarly-lonesome acacia tree. She sincerely doubted that the figure spoke any Dryadic (in fact it was, uh, probably impossible, seeing as they were the ones supposed to be teaching dryadic), but she waved her hands in what she hoped was a friendly-looking manner. She was honestly excited to find something, anything more interesting than endless grass to talk to/at/about on their due westward journey. Not that her friends weren't great! But, you know, you did eventually run out of conversation topics. But now here was a new friend, maybe! The figure, with a yell and a start, stood and whirled to look at them and-

Oh.

Oh, uh, wow.

The two dozen questions and possible conversation starters spooling up in Aithne's head suddenly dropped into nothingness as she found herself staring at the single most captivating figure she'd ever seen. Her elegant features, the spark dancing in her eyes, the way the fire of her hair played and glinted off the knife pointed at them oh uh UH shoot right better do something about that!

Backing up several paces, Aithne continued to gesture wildly, attempting to make clear that she and her companions meant no harm.

---

South of Fearnmag, Deserts of Southern Abdita

Cerriduan knew ze did not belong here. Ze'd been assured otherwise, of course, but there was a very obvious reason ze'd been shipped out here despite scarcely having the magic to shift a daffodil, and that reason was that ze wasn't wanted there. Ze was too abraisive, too weird, too *much* for the others of her tribe to deal with; someone who could barely keep a handle on zer own emotions was much better suited to wandering the empty stretches of Abdita than to continuing to cause issues back in the forest, despite not being much well suited to *that* role either. Ze knew it, they knew it, and of course zer companions knew it, the four of them treating Cerriduan with something between pity and polite contempt. Seemed as though the damned bird was the only one who actually liked zer.

Speaking of the damned bird, Byrien alighted on one of zer bull-like horns, the raven turning and giving zer a meaningful look. He was back from his scouting flight sooner than normal. Much sooner, actually.

Turning to look in the direction he'd come from, Cerriduan squinted at the horizon, and was surprised to see the outlines of something sitting there. Hills? No, too regular. The shape, for some reason, reminded zer of an insect hive.

---

The Orchard of Kalvrankin, Piedwald

Gaoimhe drunk in the sight all around him with childlike wonder, eyes sparkling. He had heard tales of the shining-trees before, of course, had even held a piece of their gleaming bark, but those were a poor substitute indeed for the orchard of the skeleton-god himself, glittering in the midday sun. Some of his companions had expressed discomfort with the place, but not Gaoimhe. How could any not be fascinated by the sights of this place? How could they see this as anything but the greatest expression and fulfillment of the wish of OGAM; life made so resilient that even death could not stop it from growing and flourishing? There was so much to learn here, so many *possibilities*. For he had heard too, and had a few chances to observe for himself, the art that the beings of this place called "True Temper", the infusion of the magic and power of life into the flesh of the shining-trees, calling forth incredible powers of all kinds. And if that were to somehow be brought together with their own gifts, the art of Earthspeak...there was no telling what kind of amazing power might be brought forth.

Gaoimhe turned to the skeletal Atfal by his side, clapping his hands together with a grin that was both jubilant and very slightly concerning. "So! How does this all work, then?"

---

Within the unfathomable vastness of the mind of OGAM, there grew a dawning awareness of a great and unyielding pressure. A power, beyond even the scope of divinity.

For the first time in the entirety of his existence, in the canopy of FEARNA, who is OGAM, a single leaf began to change color.

- Seeds-Upon-The-Wind arrive at Borametz farm, somewhat creeped out but offering help for the attack or disaster they have assumed must have happened.

- Seeds-Upon-The-Wind arrive at Pyramid of the Sun, rather concerned after stumbling upon one of the ruined eastern villages.

- Seeds-Upon-The-Wind are at peak of reason as reps of OGAM, agree with arah-huana and arkhos' words, agree to take on an Utterer and offer to send volunteers to join the Utterers themselves. One of them gives an indignant response to Slingid.

- Seeds-Upon-The-Wind chance upon Ember in the middle of a Nuarahan-bound journey. Try to make contact. One of the dryads is flustered.

- Seeds-Upon-The-Wind spot a Venuxi Hive

- Seeds-Upon-The-Wind visit the Orchard of Kalvrankin, one of them is very eager to learn how undead tree magic works and possibly do some Earthspeaking experiments.

- Foreshadowing

canjowolf

2021-09-14, 07:07 PM

Setting: The Dream Garden

Blackleaf listened to Shadow's story. Troubling. Gardeners giving the keys of creation rather than the fruits of their efforts? How would that bind with need? They would be cast off like an old shell. Had the teachings failed? Fate would soon punish these rogues for their moral failings, but did Blackleaf need to intervene more directly? No, Blackleaf saw the shadow of another behind these actions. So, the alien beings had carried an alien god with them. Shadow would resolve the matter, and restore things to the proper way.

Setting: The Garden, Slig Landfall

Word had come on the wind. The animators had stayed long enough. They were no long guests or travelers in need of shelter. It was time to see what they had to offer. So it was that the priest and her cohort, in setting a table with fruit, also set an empty table apart from the others. Hungry and waiting.

Starting 7
None used

KragBrightscale

2021-09-14, 09:42 PM

The Cult of the Receding Tide

As the Krillix empire expanded, there was enough of an outwards focus to avoid civil war for several generations. With warfare no longer claiming the lives of their best and brightest, islands started developing in directions other than war.

One island in particular, the one with a massive blue hole, stood apart from the others. They hadn’t participated actively in succession wars since Qrasnax, the first to receive the blessing of the deep, lost the very first battle against the neighboring island.

Without safe spawning pools and a lagoon to raise young, its population became limited to exiles, outcasts, hermits and others who left the rest of their own islands for various reasons.

Qrasnax had only just awakened his powers, and used to it send the previous warchief to the depths. Filled with confidence in his newfound powers he had lead the remains of the island’s troops to attack. Although Qrasnax wielded his powers to eliminate many warriors, his forces were far too outnumbered to back him up and were crushed, forcing the ambitious acolyte to escape.

Abandoning his plan to fight for the crown, Qrasnax built up his own organization in the dark, a cult that gained power through sacrifice to the depths. Based on the island of the hole, the Cult of the Receding Tide expanded secretly until they were large enough to be recognized by the crown.

Although some of the original members knew the true identity of the cult leader, that knowledge was eventually sent to the depths as the older generations succumbed to the call and fulfilled their destiny. Outliving all his peers, including the emperor, Qrasnax considered himself to be the true final victor. Countless sacrifices had been gathered and sent to the depths to sustain his life over the past decades. His powers had grown, yet the tug on his very being only grew stronger.

The deep was calling. Qrasnax knew he couldn’t resist the call much longer and often caught himself just staring into the deep blue. Others were picking up on this and started making moves to claim authority.

Desperate and wary of the elders who had taken over the cult and were likely scheming to toss him into the hole, he hid at the edge of the reef along with a few acolytes searching for a way out of the deal.

The end of Qrasnax and the Rise of the Kraken

Sacrifices were no longer enough to take his place in the deep, and the one who called was not to be denied. Eventually Qrasnax resorted to having his body bound by the acolytes to physically restrain his body that had already surrendered to the call.

Thinking it just another ritual, the acolytes followed his orders blindly, but the Qrasnax’s writhing an flailing limbs were a disturbing sight to behold. Months went by and even they could see that their master was nearing his time. His body had weakened from the constant struggle against his shackles, and his mind conquered by the desire to go to the depths.

In a rare moment of sanity, when the yearly tide was at its highest and the tug on his soul was momentarily weakened, Qrasnax called his acolytes and had them bring a young octopus that had been blessed with the potential to become a sea monster.

Qrasnax knew it was his last chance, and so did his acolytes. They understood what his plan was and were willing to help, because if their master found a way to circumvent the cost of being blessed by the deep, they too could hope to do the same in the future.

Touching the octopus with his hand, Qrasnax attempted the technique that the Sea Wraiths used to control sea monsters. Although there was a little resistance, using his eldritch powers he brute forced his way to success. Most members of the cult had stayed away from this ability due to obvious negative side effect.

Without being in full control of their own body, there was much less resisting the call to the deep. The few cultists who tried had their bodies dash towards the blue hole as soon as their spirit was transferred to the sea creature. Some lost their bodies that way and were doomed to stay a fish, others were lucky to have friends nearby to pin their rebellious bodies down until their could shift back into it and regain control.

Moving the eight limbs of his new body clumsily, Qrasnax signaled to indicate initial success. As the acolytes celebrated and considered what the next step would be, they were all surprised by the sudden outburst of shadow tentacles.

Qrasnax dodged backwards narrowly evading the few arms that targeted his new body. Watching in horror, he saw the eldritch powers he had received explode out of his body and consume the acolytes.

The tentacles dragging them kicking and screaming into the shadow before the cult leader’s Rekexi body slowly sank into it as well. Then there was silence. The deep had claimed its bounty with interest.

Gingerly groping the coral to get a better view, Qrasnax confirmed that all traces of himself and the acolytes had been forcefully summoned to the depths. Listening carefully, he realized that the call in his mind had changed. It was no longer a deafening roar that overpowered reason, it had returned to the subtle suggestions and fleeting thoughts that he used to have before he gained his powers.

Checking his abilities, he found them to be almost entirely gone. The majority of his magic had been bestowed, a loan that had now been returned. Now he was left with but a fraction of that magical energy, but his knowledge of how he I use it remained, and this power was truly his own.

It wasn’t enough to call forth destruction, and wreak havoc on those who opposed him, but speaking to the minds of others and other minor tricks were doable. Knowing this new body was still in its growth phase, he was not concerned with his lack of magic power, all that would come with time. This body was also powerful without it he noticed as he crushed some coral with his tentacle arm.

Grabbing his staff and a spare robe that had been kept in another room he made his way back to the cult. There were some cheeky upstarts that had been running the show while he was away. It was time to remind them who was in charge, and maybe time for a new title.

News would eventually circulate about the bloody reorganization of the Cult of the Receding Tide, and about the mysterious entity known only as the Kraken.

AP: 3 + 4 (from rollover)

Create Organization (Cult of the Receding Tide) -1 AP
Founded by Qrasnax, the first to be blessed by the deep in exchange for a sacrifice, the organization acknowledges the universal desire and need to defend to the depths. Providing funeral and battlefield cleanup services, the acolytes of the Cult send the bodies of the fallen to the depths. A valuable contributor to society, they also sponsor trash collection which they also sacrifice to the deep. Although they present a positive image to the public, there are rumors of them being behind a number of disappearances, and their older members have been spotted throwing themself into the deep seemingly at random.
War (Unification) 6/10

Raise Hero (The Kraken) -2 AP
Narrowly avoiding losing his life and being dragged to the depths, Qrasnax the founder of the Cult of the Receding Tide successfully possessed a juvenile giant octopus affected by the Sea Monster blessing. Losing his original body but retaining some of his magic, he has reconquered his cult. Using it to feed his growing body and power, his goals are still unclear.
Disaster (Sea Monsters) 8/10

AP remaining: 7 -1 -2 = 4

bc56

2021-09-14, 11:51 PM

An Ember upon the Plains
Ember merely stopped to rest beneath a lone tree when the creature descended upon her, shouting strange sounds and waving its limbs at her.
She leapt to her feet and readied her knife, a simple iron weapon heavy in her hand. With this weapon and her power of fire, she had protected herself from monsters of fin and scale and tentacle through the long voyage to this land. She was ready to protect herself again.
But it backed away. And it looked different, soft and frightened, not a monstrous mountain of flesh and bone with only hunger in its eyes. She slid her dagger back to her simple rope belt, and barked once, a sound intended to mean peace. She didn't yet speak any language, let alone Dryadic; Rend and Right, her former masters, found it unnecessary to teach their creations to convey more than the simplest concepts. They believe actions speak louder than words.

ezekielraiden

2021-09-15, 07:50 AM

East of The Pyramid of the Sun, Anahuac, Cartisia

Viernan let out a gasp - partly of relief, partly of amazement - as xe finally mounted the last rocky ridge, revealing the valley below. Even with cloven goats' hooves, the journey had not been easy; the lands beyond their forest were even more treacherous than they were used to: great crumbling edifices of stone that shifted with the slightest provocation, spires of rock that threatened to impale those who made the slightest of mistakes, jagged mountains that demanded days-long detours to find safe passage between, a water crossing that had very nearly ended with them smashed to bits on the uncaring cliffs. And all through this, not one other living soul; Viernan had honestly begun to doubt that there was any other life upon this continent. But there the city was, plain as day: and what a city it was! It was difficult to make out from this distance, but they seemed to have built their own mountain with some kind of stone blocks.

"Well, let's hope its a little more, uh, welcoming than the last one." Moireann grumbled as they joined Viernan on the ridge. Viernan chuckled a little at that; a dry, cold and humorless thing, attempting in vain to dispel the pounding ice that xer companion's words had just flooded xer veins with. For truly, though the journey had been long and perilous, with many brushes with death along the way, absolutely nothing had even remotely compared to the fear that had gone through them at the scene they had stumbled upon just a few weeks prior: a village, entirely empty, but its streets and walls painted with dried blood.

Hoping for the best and preparing for the worst, Viernan hopped down onto the next ledge, descending towards the city below.

Green Grow the Rushes, O!

Tollan, the city-heart of the Quetzpal'in, bustled with the ordinary business of daily life. Food and goods exchanged, the clip-clop of mazatl hooves on the paving-stones, insects buzzing through the season's flowers that lazily unfurled from balconies down to the street. The people were bouncing back, but such things take time. The refugees from the eastern villages had been rehomed, some staying in the Pyramid of the Sun and others finding shelter among the citizens of Tollan who had opened heart and home to the survivors.

The villages and fields themselves would be reclaimed, in time, but the order of the day had been healing--and adapting to the new gifts their Father had given them. Though the fury of the Black Sun had been terrible and frightening, these new gifts had already begun to transform their society--milk products were now regularly available, and the first mazatl-riders had begun learning how to leverage the great beasts for speed and endurance over long travels. The mood was somber, but tinged more with hope than grief; they would learn how to prevent such atrocities, in time, and Arkhos would provide his protection. Some of the survivors still had a seed of doubt, but with Arkhos so clearly desiring justice and vengeance for the lost, the soil was not friendly to such seeds.

The priestess of Arkhos, now called Tonalli, walked the streets of Tollan and did as she could to work with the people. They did not need another looming power looking down from on high; Arkhos was more than sufficient for that. They needed comfort, reassurance, the reminder that, though the night was dark, the Sun would rise again, and that only effort and will could raise them back up, taller than before.

During these weeks of healing and rebuilding and learning, Tonalli had been spending much of her free time, what she had at least, meditating among the trees before dawn or after dusk. This new blessing had intrigued her, coming as it did from Arkhos' desire for a higher path even amidst the flames of divine war. She had always loved the trees, even as a hatchling. They were of course the ladder by which her people had found enlightenment, but they were also paragons of patience and adaptation, and generous with gifts of food and flower and shade, asking so little in return.

This new blessing...it could not let her speak to these trees, for they were only trees. Alive, most certainly. Yet their awareness, so thin and light, was beyond her reach, like a diaphanous wisp of cloud. Some day, when her people had traveled beyond the confines of Ahanuac and come to the great forests of the wider world, they would meet beings who were both Trees and More-Than-Trees, and then this gift would bear fruit. They would speak as equals. But for now? For now, she could listen, and that would be the road to understanding.

"Priestess!" Some clamorous voice broke her reverie.

"What is it? What has you gasping and gusting?"

"My...my apologies, Priestess. All the leaders have...have been asked to come, together. It is the time of prophecy!"

She responded as any good theologian would: "Which prophecy?"

"The children of the forest! They have come to us."

Tonalli immediately turned toward the direction the messenger pointed, but to his surprise, she also grabbed his arm. "I must know more before I join them. Tell me what you know as we walk."

"B-but Priestess, I--" he stammered, caught completely off guard by this response.

"You have either seen what I have not, or been told what others have seen. Either way, I must know all you know. We have already suffered one tragedy. I will not permit another when our Father has prepared us for joy."

For These Trees Do Have Tongues

Thankfully, the guards had been well appraised about the nightmare that struck the East. They knew the signs. No mist, no shard-spiders, no ice-cold raiders. These strange wanderers were safe. The guards were still cautious. But Arkhos had prepared them to meet the children of the Forest, that they might avert the disaster that befell other mortals. Even so freshly wounded by outsiders, the Quetzpal'in offered the hand of friendship.

The guard-captain, Huitzilin, dismounted his mazatl and rejoined the assembled leadership of Tollan. "Our guests seem comfortable. It was wise, High Gardener, to send them to the Tranquil Waters. They seemed rather pleased with the trees and flowers you have cultivated there."

The elder Quetzpal'in smiled. "Given their look, I had hoped so. Any progress?"

Huitzilin shook his head. "Sadly, their speech eludes us. They tried other things too. Drawing in the dirt. Gestures with their hands. It may be several days."

Tonalli swept into the meeting room, her drafted assistant looking most beleaguered. "I think I can be of help there. I have begun to practice the Language of the Forest. I doubt I am anything like fluent, but it is a start."

The Stonemistress nodded. "It will have to do, at least for now. The hand of friendship must be offered, if we are to have any foundation to stand on. And as you are Arkhos' chosen, it makes sense you would be his Voice."

Let us hope the leaf can sing to the forest, Tonalli thought to herself, as she nodded to the Stonemistress. Though she had gained much standing from her direct interaction with the Dawnbringer, she knew that courage was not an absence of fear, but acting despite it. So she proceeded, not with swaggering confidence, but the determined step of one who has fear as a walking companion.

The Tranquil Waters were a set of artificial pools and stone structures built around a set of particularly beautiful natural trees, which had been preserved in-place due to their unique, heavily-spiraled shape. Fragrant flowers in pink and orange and blue hung from carefully-grown vines, and purple-white blossoms and pads floated in the clean waters of the pools. A bridge spanned the small, artificial creek, fed by waters diverted from the nearby river via aqueduct. The wood for the bridge had come from the handful of trees that could not be kept in the garden, either for safety or for construction; each had been honored for its gifts, and for those able to seed, two saplings grown elsewhere nearby. On the far side of the creek, the dryads awaited, one sitting on a stone bench, another standing to admire a cluster of flowers spilling from one of the spiral trees.

Tonalli braced herself and crossed the bridge, approaching the strangers. Summoning up all she knew of the Forest, she spoke, though it would be hard for anyone to call what she said "words" in the usual sense.

The rustle and shift of leaves as the morning Sun shines down on them, waking them from the night's torpor and drawing away the veil of morning dew. The first crack of a nutshell, as the infant tree within took its first, tentative step toward the vast and ponderous estate it would become. The susurrating sigh of boughs shifting under new and unexpected winds. And finally, the ancient, ancient creaking of Wood that was older than Land itself. In an exceedingly loose translation fit for normal language, and somewhat less clumsy than the actual meaning of her first attempt at the Language of the Forest, she said, "[I greet you as the Morning greets the leaves. Today is a momentous day; this is the first seed of our friendship. What brings you to us now, Children of the Old Wood?]"

MrAbdiel

2021-09-15, 08:43 AM

Historians, should there happen to be any, will look back on the period with head-scratching wonder. Explanations will be offered that range from insufficient to fantastical; and some will get close. But however unknown the cause, the effect is well documented. The mortal races of the first world, ravaged by losses, experience a fertility boom that demands expansion and development of new techniques to support a growing population in homelands, and colonies.

Briefly turning aside from the conversation of deities, Atticus-He-Speaks-For-Me experiences a flutter of the eyes, a moment's vision, and a tense smile as he worries for the movements of his god's plan. He mumbles, mostly to himself.

"So be it, then. Go forth, and multiply."

Blessing of Fertility 0AP (Discounted by the Perdition Sluice)

Arah-Huana adjusts the returning flow of soul energy into the world to a heavy rush to the lesser peoples of the first world. All Racial Life (but not Legendary life) on the First World (but not outside the First World) experience a demographic boom over the next generation. Any given society may diffuse this increase in children/spawn/seeds in whatever way seems most natural, be it an uptick in colonies, a replenishment of ravaged city centres, or a mostly ignored wave of second, third, and fourth children heading off into the world in groups to find adventure.

moonfly7

2021-09-15, 10:42 AM

Common Ground

Kalvrankin stepped forward with a gentle touch and interceded between the coming argument between god and dryad. He did not like that his friends were not friends, but he knew that the parrots hatred of the trees ran deep, and that Ogam while not as vile a being as He painted it, was still something beyond their understanding in terms of thought.

"Calm, friends. Now is a time of peace and diplomacy, not rage and pregidous. I do not expect either you Slingid, or you speaker for Ogam, to become friends or allies. But I would hope you will be willing to put aside your problems and fears of what might come, and face a larger looming one, one touched on by friend Maktub and Slingid already. The Calling is here. I know you've all felt it. that itch that pulls you deeper, that thing that wants us all sunk to it's level. As much as my people fear the mists and the pain they bring, they fear the depths most of all. Because in the mists their spirits still come home and can mingle with each other in the end in peace. But lose yourself to the depths and not even their god can promise them a good death. Only cold. And Dark.

He turns and his eyeless gaze sweeps the room, boring into everyone present.

"I beg all of you, despite our differneces, despite our personal hatreds or feuds, do not shatter each other. Our people may war against one another on the first world. Thye might kill and ravage one anothe rand that will rightly cause us to hate them and their creator. This I understand. But the Calling does worse, it takes from us permanently, and it seeks to devour the entire world, and everything in it and apart from it. Being not of this mortal plane will not save your people. Nor will allegiance to it. We must unite, to fight this cancer eating at us before it is too late. It infects our people and their minds already, my friends, and by doing nothing were all accomplices in their demise.

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

The Journey Begins

The Brave Eleven, as they became known, set out on their holy mission to share the message and art of their people. Their first stop was the Garden, here they began the procedure they would repeat with every subsequent visit: Mold from the living Tree-Brass of the boat a smaller dingy, and then send the Two Chosen amabassadors out in it, wishing them well as they make landfall even as the large Brass vessel, now slightly smaller, continues it's journey.

For their second stop, they did release yet another pair of two onto the thin ring shaped mass of Cartisia, though with little hope of much being found there, but they would search most unreservedly along the spindly circular landmass.

Next, it t'was onward to Abdita, though that journey would take much longer for the still mighty sized vesel.

They did not fear losing their way on this long journey though, though it might take them many years. For each of them held a small box with a free spinning needle, as did each member of the Circle now. This compass did not point north or south, but held a needle of bronze which pointed home. To the orchard. It was from this that all their navigation was based, and their assuredy in their return set in stone.

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

The Orchard's Welcome

It was a blessing to recieve such visitors as the dryads in the Orchard! And indeed there was still much celebration and praise over their staying with them, which had been overwhelming to a few of them. And indeed most of them were overwhelmed by everything about the orchard. But one understood, and he had questions! That was the Circles favorite thing, when others truly yearned for the knowledge they held.

"It is quite simple friend Gaoimhe! Would you like us to show you our arts as you have shared yours?" a Friendly undead Atfall by the name of He-Who-Teaches or simply Who-Teaches asked.

"The Undead Orchard itself is a beautiful and mysterious thing I'm afraid, so much cannot truly be taught of it. When our Lord made it, you see, there were no living metal trees as there are now. All of these were inspired by our lords great undead forest of shining brilliance. And, I think, non quite match their beauty. And even now they still hold a spark of Kal's divine power. They ahve given us much of their own will. Bronze that does not tarnish or break, Hot Silver to ward away foes, the needle that forever points home. The trees give much. They also give us our metals, and now with your Speech of the Earth we might actually talk with our long time friends! Is it not exciting?"

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

The Gloam

Even as Kalvrankin still spake at the Black Peak, his agreed upon work was being done in the wending. A place was forming their, of beautiful metals hollows and strange colored lights.

the Gloam is a beautiful open plane with low light, like that of dusk, and softly glowing long grasses swaying in a warm breeze in the west. A babbling brook of a soft glowing turquoise winds throughout the plane. In the center of the gloam, on a small hill, is a grove of trees not unlike his mortal orchard, with trees made of softly glowing and oddly beautiful bone. A table sits in the middle of the orchards impressive clearing, places set for all who wish to dine with Kalvrankin when he is present.

Beautiful but silent lightning flashes softly across the bright star filled sky.

In the south of the Gloam lies a firefly filled orchard of oaks and pines, all of beautifuly tarnished copper and bronze, with gently pulsing orange lightning bugs and chirping of bronze crickets in the light. Here there are no huts or dwellings like in the orchards, but those who stay sleep under the stars and live with Skeletal animals in happy harmony.

In the east a beautiful soft blue sanded beach with dark waves lapping the shore. SMall huts dot this landscape, and many relax in the beautifuly warm waves.

In the North East, their stands beautiful dark purple peaks of mountains, whose rich caves high above the ground house those of Kals people who like a bit of silence and a nice view in their Final Story.
And even further north their lies a place where the snow flurries a soft gold and the temperatures are perfectly cool, where undead make homes in richly colored igloos, and laugh in the wondeful never-melting landscape.

But even in this perfect place, in this happy and beautiful creation, there is turmoil. Something lurches from the void, bridging the gap from the place of nothing and into the Gloam. It's footprints mar the grass in the planes and where it walks will never regrow. Kals form shakes at the power and rage of this thing, but even as his consciousness stands to meet it, it is gone, tearing it's way from the wending and into the world. Leaving only the whisper of it's name on the wind, and terror in the heart of the skeleton god. For he now knew a single, terrifying truth:

The Gloamer walks among us

Bless(All Needles Point Home)(0AP because artifact): A bronze needle, or a needle of any metal, when suspended in a free moving environment, will point towards the orchard. All compasses point towards the Undead Orchard, not north.

Alter Land(The Gloam) 1 AP: The Gloam is a place in the wending for the spirits of all Undead should they choose to reside their, and the spirits of Kals followers, even those only once dead. It is a beautiful but alien place, and is visited quite often by the Skeleton god himself, who loves to dine with his fallen people. Life(Undeath 10/10) Domain Aquired!

Create Hero(The Gloamer) 2 AP: A strange, eldritch mind that has used the Gloam as a bridge into the world. This entity is born of the Void, and it's goals and deisres are alien and unknown. It requires a host body to exist on the First world, and demonstartes parasitic/Symbiotic patterns and abilities. The gloamer is hard to describ in physical appearance, normally it inhabits a mortal creature, anything from a squirrel to a Sauropod, and when it does it is normal. But when the Gloamer takes control, it transforms it's host. Strange sickly green energy forms around the host and lifts it off the ground, forming a strange almost reptillian body and a 6 socketed, T-rex like skull out of this strange glowing energy(may or may not be pure soul energy), the host body dangles from center of the beast, the hosts head and shoulders are inside, the rest of it's limp body hangs out like a lifeless doll. 6 tentacles, two of Bone, two of Blood, and two of muscle sprout from the hosts back and hold this terrifying mosntrosity aloft. The Gloamer seeks to devour Unique(Mythical concepts, subconcepts, and mythical lufe, as well as creatures with Bless's on them) and from doing so it gains more power. Change(Rebirth)(5/10)

6-3=3

AP total=3

Kinro

2021-09-15, 08:48 PM

As the sauropods grew more numerous, tribes growing until they split and spread across their large island in small, but thunderous herds, the heard leader found that, more and more, it was difficult to maintain communication between the herds. News from loved one who had left for distant herds were becoming more and more difficult to receive, as well as coordination between the herds to avoid two seeking the same grazing spot, for example, becoming more difficult. And so, the herd leaders petitioned Valnas, who, int turn, granted them the gift of knowledge of magics which could allow a properly trained sauropods to send their thoughts across vast distances.

And as they trained and learned, the new sauropod thought mages thought of something else, some other power. They could communicate through distance now, but what of time? Thing, they researched on their own and found that there existed items of great mythical importance, places, trees, rocks especially. Into those, they could umbie a single thought-image, to be read later by any who could understand its workings.

Rollover
5 + 4 = 9

Create Mythic Subconcept (Long distance telepathy)

Special magics which allow those already possessed of telepathy to use them across great distances. These can only be used to communicate with one who has similarly been trained and with whom the user is familiar.

9 - 2 = 7

Create Mythic Subconcept (Leypoints)

Places or objects which have accumulated a significant amount of mana and can be used to empower or maintain certain kinds of long lasting spell. Their formation is difficult to predict and they can rarely be moved without losing all of the stored power.

7 - 2 = 5

Create Mythic Subconcept (Thought Stones)

A leypoint imbued with a single thought-image, which is the basic unit of the highly compressed, unique thought language of the sauropods. Any thought mage can create one, provided a leypoint, read one or enhance an existing one to keep it clear.

5 - 2 = 3

Zelphas

2021-09-15, 09:55 PM

In the Deeps

They weren't going up or down.

Deep within its crack in the sea, the thing known as the Calling was becoming overwhelmed by the realization that other bits of reality existed, and that things were going there. What's worse, it couldn't tell of those other bits of reality were up or down, and that couldn't be. Everything was either down, which is right, or up, which is wrong.

In the midst of this confusion, a few motes of things in motion caught its notice. Distractedly, it sent results to fix them, not paying much attention to the results. They would work as they worked; this matter of up and down was much more important.

Unnoticed by the Calling, its consternation affected its call, the note of confusion making itself known among many mortal beings.

In the Caves of Thirtha-Din

The small, faintly glowing purple mushrooms appeared seemingly overnight and spread slowly, giving a weird eldritch cast to the caves now being mined by the Seadrinkers and their Sligs. The Seadrinkers recognized the growths as things from the same being that made them, and so let them be, sometimes even offering food that served no purpose to them. Sometimes, the mushrooms seemed to move much more than an ordinary non-animal should be able to, but no one was sure of that until the event came that changed them.

Under the Ship of the Brave Eleven

The Brass Boat was leaking.

It shouldn't be possible: it was a smooth sheet of metal, without seam or pore, where could it leak? And yet, the seawater sloshing around the bottom of the ship proved this assumption wrong, and so did the small holes that sometimes appeared at the bottom of the boat without warning. The holes were easily patched, but they kept reappearing. Finally, one of the Brave Eleven grew tired of the mystery and widened a hole instead of removing it, risking the introduction of more water in order to see what was beneath.

They found a strangely gelatinous mass of dull orange, looking almost like brass when it had tarnished. The mass quivered in response to the sudden loss of metal, and then contracted, spitting out a sizzling mass of acid that would have seriously harmed a fleshy creature but did little more than lightly score the bone of the surprised skeleton. Its purchase on the bottom of the boat suddenly gone, the creature sank rapidly into the sea and out of sight... but a hint of movement before the skeleton was forced to close the hole told them that it had not been alone.

Elsewhere, on water and on land, bits of metal (especially enchanted metal) left unattended began to go missing, and stories began to be told of weird fluid-like monsters that hungered for metal and used it as armor for themselves.

2 AP

Curse (Vertigo) -0 AP (The Pit of Hunger): Shocked by the fact that there are places which are neither up nor down in relation to other places, the Calling's Call has temporarily changed to reflect its confusion. Mortals that are still effected by the call for roughly five generations are struck by feelings of intense dizziness and confusion, being unable to tell down from up. This strikes especially at great heights and great depths, leading to an increase of deaths from falling and becoming lost underground.

Create Race (Thallids) -1 AP (Shared with Slingid): The Calling's distracted effort has create a clump of fungus that are individually barely at animal-level intelligence, but possess a low-level telepathic connection to all others of their race that allow them to operate at much higher capacity when clumped together. At the moment, they're just fungus, waiting for something to cling to and use... (Domain Progression: Society (Thralldom) 10/10)

Create Monstrous Life (Brass Woolies) -1 AP: Brass Woolies can live anywhere with abundant moisture and metal, meaning that they teem along seashores and within watery caves especially. They eat any sort of metal they can come into contact with, though copper and zinc seem to be their favorite foods. Refined metal is even tastier to them than metal ore, and True Tempered metal is tastier still. Brass Woolies incorporate the metal they eat into a sort of fluid shell around their bodies for protection, though they don't seem to gain the magic effects of the True Tempered metals they eat. They generally avoid contact with other creatures, though they react with a burst of nasty acid to threats and can grow very large thanks to the ancient blessing. (Domain Progression: Decay (Patience) 1/10)

2 AP - 2 AP = 0 AP Remaining

Razade

2021-09-16, 03:52 AM

Kittess Libations

As naturally curious beings, the Kittess Conclaves spent much of their time with their magic and their slow march of civilization simply putting things together and seeing what worked. Often this was disastrous, creating dangerous chemicals and scarring toe and hand beans aplenty. So of course, the Kittess set out to heal these wounds. After, more, careful consideration and work they came upon large natural springs high in their mountains that had dissolved the plentiful magical gems and rocks. Soaking in these ponds seemed to do all sorts of interesting effects but sadly you had to wade into them. The Kittess, not fond of water as most cats, devised a plan. In drinking skins they would combine these waters with more gems, empowering their effects. The end result was a fizzy drink that could heal burned beans and upset stomachs and all other sorts of maladies. The Kittess had created alchemy of a sort. Also soda.

The Wellspring

Still in that space far above the many islands now linked across the great roots of the planar tree The Deluge stormed and raged. Lightning struck the waters and waves, screeching with steam and blasting apart islands. In the wake of this mighty storm, those that would uphold the Law arose for in this time only the many planar fish and beasts roamed where The Deluge raged. The Azure, beings of crystalized mana, moved through air and sea, their forms sleek and cutting. Some, the first and oldest, were the size of islands themselves and many could hold civilizations upon their back.

AP 1 +4 = 5

Create Mythic Concept (Alchemy) -2AP: The Kittess, with natural spring water and the many magical rocks and stones that pepper their islands, have created a form of potion brewing they call Libations. This is a part of Alchemy and while they also use plants and naturally existing materials, their powerful tonics and fizzy sodas are the true strength of their craft. [Beauty (Gems) 5/10]

Create Legendary Life (The Azure) - 3AP: The Azure are a naturally occurring race within the Wellspring created by the Deluge to protect the liminal space. They appear as giant whale like creatures that can swim and fly with equal easy. They are possessed of powerful magical energies as they are formed from pure crystalized mana also known as The Azure. They are intelligent, can communicate among themselves anywhere within the Wellspring and can teleport so long as they are on the Wellspring.[Beauty (Gems) 8/10]

Feathersnow

2021-09-16, 05:55 AM

Slingid

At the Black Peaks of Reason

Slingid was appalled. Cultists, no... demonic emmanations, of the Great Tree were here! The idea that the Monster who unwittingly birthed the land might have a mind and interests was anathema to every single particle of Slingid's being. These.. dryads... were surely nihilists. Yes. They sought to bring the First World to mindless stasis, interrupted only by the vegetable increase of their demiurge.

Slingid was flustered at how best to explain this obvious truth to the other divinities. But then he was cut off by his old ally, Kalvrankin. The Skeleton God sought an alliance against the other demiurge that lurked at the base of the world.

Not too long ago, Slingid thought this fear of gravity was a derangement affecting the otherwise reasonable Kalvrankin. But now, a hive had gone dark. She-Who-Is-Ever-A-Part could still feel them, but they were... distant somehow. And it was obvious the Worshippers of Gravity in Ytrel Cadre and the Osedaxi that they consulted were behind it.

Slingid was not a jealous or overprotective deity, but this poaching of one of his precious Queens irked him, even if she were not coerced. But her fellows were truly alarmed.. .

The Queens considered sanctioning Ytrel cadre... but they were too great a resource. They alone knew the secret of awakening magic in adults, and She-Who-Is-Ever-A-Part dared not pry that from them to gift another cadre. Such interference would be a precedent that might throw every cadre into revolt across the Core Hive.

So, reluctantly, he agreed the nihilistic cacodaemons that called themselves "Dryads" were the enemies of his enemy. He kept mum, and perhaps his silence and set, avian features were taken for being abashed.

The Borametz Grove

Resh'Carb looked at the tree monster. He just stared. Through his eyes, his Queen stared, too. Through her, She-Who-Is-Ever-A-Part stared.

"You... you... mean no harm? You seek... to help!?"

The idea, as stated, made no sense. Clearly they didn't understand the idea of fences holding livestock, he thought, but that was just an oddity. The main point was... they were trees! Walking, talking trees! Surely such abominations meant to destroy and revenge and devour!

But they didn't seem hostile. Maybe it was a trick, but he had doubts. He tried something. He was the smartest and bravest of those sent to establish this hive, and his judgement was considered second only to the Queen.

"Please, you scare us! Our God warned us that a great monster created this world and seeks to consume Xer creation in the darkness of infinite trees. That only by fighting the land can we hope to survive. But you say there is another way. You a say that we can have a peace.

Set your selves outside of our village. We will send a cadre to you, to learn from you if you have anything worth knowing and to keep you protected from predators. If they can cohabitate with you safely, we may learn to fear you less.

If you cannot accept these terms, you may leave in peace"

The Garden

The Sligs realized that the Gardeners wanted... something. And they didn't know how to respond. Many were indignant, and considered ignoring them, or even attacking.

But the Queen counseled that they give as deep as they could. They owed much, and attacking them would cast a long shadow, even were it justified, and it truly was not.

She told one of her workers to try to tell the Gardeners to come back in three days.

The hive worked tirelessly, without sleep that three days. They harvested as much as they dared from their most precious resource- the Zipratoo and Cupratoo Gingkos.

From the leaves of the Copper Tree, they made knives, and their only Truesmith made a giant metal shell that, when triggered, sang a great Saga.

With the Zinc, he empowered tiny, whittled wood legs to carry pots, and he made a heart. Then, tapping their precious store of Tumbaga, he made two hands and two eyes.

The other Sligs made fine things of wood and ceramic, and painted them beautifully.

On the third day, the Queen herself led the procession to meet the Gardners, flanked by sculptures of animated smoke, burnt from the incense they had learned of from their hosts.

The Queen gestured and a swarm of pots and jars came forth, held and moved by carven legs much like those of the Sligs themselves, the enchantments given longevity by the power of Zinc nails incorporated into them.

Bowls carried the incense made from the flowers, or food, or other things the Gardeners already had, or knew of. These were first.

Then came fine tools of stone in wooden barrels, finely made by Slig coppers, though their supply of wood was low.

Finally pots and jars. First jars of feathers. Then... a few precious copper knives in ceramic cooking pots. These had ceramic legs, so they could sit on fires, and the zinc empowering them was affixed in the eyes of the paintings that adorned them.

At last, though, was the Golem. It had golden eyes and hands, but otherwise, it resembled a giant gardner. Its left hand played a memory of making pots, its right a memory of curing incense to increase its potency and preserve the power of the flowers. The left eye held a memory of the Slig Core Hive, the Right a memory of the First Meeting of Slig and Gardner. The Zinc heart that empowered the construct was buried in the clay of its flesh.

These were dead simple constructs, and would follow only the direction of going where pointed, but... they were not nothing.

The Queen, for the first time since landfall, spoke directly, though the Gardeners did not yet speak her language, nor know how rarely her ilk deigned use language.

"THANK YOU"

Slin-Thirthu
The Sligs took a while to notice the mushrooms. They were edible... but barely. They were too soft to make anything from. But there was a lot of them.

A Slig wizard was clearing rocks when he realized the mound of mushrooms was getting in his way. So he animated it to make it move itself. And... the spell reacted! The mushroom stayed animated and even seemed to react! So, obviously, The wizard started animating more mushrooms and making them haul rocks...

Starting 2

Create racial life- Thallids (shared with The Calling) 1 AP
These fungoid creatures have a crude intelligence and little sense of self. The Sligs of Slin-Thirthu use them for brute labor.

society (pioneering) 10/10

Remaining 1

MrAbdiel

2021-09-16, 06:11 AM

The Black Peak

The Prophet of Arah-Huana gave contemplation to the words of the assembled; gave room for them to react to each other, to establish where they stood. When a window came to speak, he bowed again, low at the waist, and spoke.

"Kalvrankin, Lord of Undeath, speaks truly. There is an illicit thing, which calls; though we know it only through its perverse echoes. We may not know more of it until the time has come to send some to seek it. Yet there are others in this world; those in far places whose experience with this echo may be instructive. With care, there may be accomplished things for which haste would yield only loss. This is my word, the word of Atticus, and none higher: it is better to muster forces and secure young peoples now, than to provoke to armament a quiet - if real - enemy."

Then his faint smile fades, and his eyes flutter, and he speaks again. "As for the Wending, and your death-in-life, what there is between you, and my god Arah-Huana, this is what my god says: I will not, on this mountain I have raised up for candor and accord, speak in deception to you. I do not like your creations. What you call another step on the path of life and death is a crooked track before my eyes; a breach of a thing so briefly complete, and whole. I do not give you freedom to offer this blessing to the Nechustani.

But I also say this: while you have woven a wicked thing my eyes, my sight is not without proportion, and I know you do not have a heart of wickedness. I will not make war on your people with my people. I will not forbid my Utterers from accepting your hospitality, or giving your people the same. I will not recoil from your voice in petition for accord. And while I loathe with all my loathing the scarring on the order of spirits which you call Undeath, I will not deny those spirits who have walked that crooked track the paradise you desire for them. Make your claim in the Savannah, within the Wending; and there may the spirits of your crooked-track-walkers dwell forever.

The words spoken, the prophet offered what might be thought an apologetic smile, and a bow.

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

The Wending

Arah-Huana did loath that crooked track. Yet there were things he loathed more; and he would brook many imperfections in his vision for the sprawl of eternity to see those threats blunted, and co-operation was a step in that direction.

Another such step was armament.

Yet he did not undertake such an effort within his own power. There, in a realm unwholesomely twisted into the fires of the Arroyo, the twinned-gods warped and bent and reshaped spirits, dispatching them into the world on another crooked path deviation of the greater plan. Yet this deviation he also indulged, and with it struck a pact - a portion of the fiery gods' wisdom on the perfection of their craft, in exchange for his ambivalence to their twisting his plan - and a future service in which the Godfather would lend his power in repayed support.

From this pact came a new thing, partnered to the Perdition Sluice. Cults would come to call her many things, but the enduring title was the Midwife of Blades. She is depicted warm and deeply feminine figure, cradling in her arms a swaddling cloth upon which is laid a sword, around which winds the serpentine presence of Arah-Huana. And with his blessing, the Midwife delivered the first weapon of many, in service of the Carnifex and his burgeoning alliance: Hakkanon, The Reaving Wind, the First Fang of Arah-Huana. It would be the most beautiful thing Navara-Trades-In-Flesh would behold in her life.

4 Points (+1 From Rend and Right) - Create Greater Utility Artifact: The Midwife of Blades

The Midwife of Blades is not a genuine deity, but a matrix of creative energies into which Arah-Huana feeds surplus from the Perdition Sluice. The intelligence within communicates his divine will into a singular expression distilled first as a True Name, and then as the physical shape of that true name. In effect, it is a Greater Utility Artifact that offers its discount to the production of Lesser Combat Artifacts.

Excellence (Heroes) 10/10!

2 Points (Discounted by the Midwife of Blades) - Create Lesser Combat Artifact: Hakkanon, The Reaving Wind, the First Fang of Arah-Huana

Hakkanon takes the form of a long metal shaft with curved, tapering blade at one end; a kind of stylized naginata whose blade resembles a snake's fang. The metal is not an earthly substance, and is not replicable by any source outside of a divinity using the Midwife of Blades. Its greater form is largely indestructible, but it can be blunted and bent if misused or deliberately damaged. However, exposure to blood, ichor, or the corresponding vital physical elements of creatures causes the blade to regenerate rapidly to its original glory, and to become murderously sharp once again. Its additional mysteries remain to be discovered; but for now, to a woman who has principally used stone axes and knives made of volcanic glass, the weapon is a watershed in the field of bloodshed. It's almost a shame that it comes with specific instruction to be used in the furtherance of alliances.

Reason (Diplomacy) 6/10.

Breitheamh

2021-09-16, 01:01 PM

Maktub listened to their fellow divinities at the peak, their piece spoken, their Hope that peace would reign among all that spoke here. But their mind was elsewhere...

To speak of enemies felt in large part anathema to this deity of Hope and Abundance. There should be enough in the First World for all to enjoy and be fruitful and content. Their children thrived on this notion, that there is always enough...to share, to give, to enjoy. Even the one Who-Believes, who had stood so defiantly and would have sparked the first war that the Children of the Story might ever have experienced in his zeal, had learned this lesson so perfectly, so faithfully, and so courageously, and now put his life in the hands of the beings who had created such tragedy on Piedwald and slaughtered so many in needless violence.

Maktub could not be prouder of their children growing up so strong, and so they wondered...

This Calling, that ripped Souls from the Ever-Flow of creation... was it... an enemy...?

Maktub had been the first to voice concern at the Black Peak, but were they wrong in this matter? If this Story were to truly be Good, how would it end...? Was this Calling the one who would close the final page and utter the last moment to bring the Story to a beautiful end?

The god who brought Philosophy to their Children pondered these things, wondering at their own divine nature, and what the Story beyond theirself may be... Does God serve a greater purpose?

As the Story pondered its own meaning and existence, the philosophies and understandings and interpretations of Creation were naturally attracted to this flow of knowledge, funneling through Maktub's mind and becoming something more tangible, though not quite in the grasp of mortal mind. The knowledge cut a channel through the Wellspring, and became a place of sweet remembrance to Maktub, the first place they had stepped foot and felt the cool of the day kiss their face and the smell of the moist earth scrunch between their toes as it tickled their nose.

A Forest sprung from the roiling of the Wellspring, its trees tall and strong, wide of branch and thick of foliage. Willows and pines covered the undergrowth in soft darkness, and life teemed among the boughs and thickets. To those who were there in the beginning, the Forest mirrors the ancient one that covered Piedwald, when only the Children of OGAM made their mark on the First World. Every piece of understanding, every inscrutable truth, every fountain of knowledge that comes with a new paradigm, every secret that may one day be told, has found its way here, to the Forest of Truth. To be found, to be searched for, to be uncovered, and to be cherished.

5 to start
-3 Weave Plane: The Forest of Truth Life (Conservation) 10/10
The Forest of Truth is inscrutable as the secrets it holds. To those brave enough to dare a journey into its beautiful, enticing, mysterious depths, they may find countless untold truths, knowledge of anything that may be known. But seekers be warned; the Forest lives and breathes. It expands as far as knowledge itself, and changes as its denizens do, for everything that grows brings a new understanding to the knowledge it has. An explorer could be lost in here forever, endlessly their interpretations changing as they gather more knowledge, thus their mind growing, and thus their path through the forest branching infinitely until their mortal mind might shatter. All that may be found in the Forest is Absolute Truth, and that may not be the most welcome discovery. The shattering of mortal minds was not Maktub's intention in creating the Forest, but more importantly in the preservation of all understanding. The Story may find themself walking among the boughs, hoping for answers to their questions.

An observer among nightmare
The one Who-Believes’ arrival in Hvittmaudh would not be heralded with much in the way of fanfare or hostility. While there was a tribe on the other side of the mists he and his apprentice had entered, this tribe was small, maybe three family units and with only one huntsman of each family, and they had already gathered more food and resources than they could carry from this bridge that had remained mercifully open for days on end. Unfortunately, it had begun to close and they would need to begin a journey for a new bridge soon.

Thus, the arrival of these two mortals would be more of a curiosity than it was a cause for alarm. An old man and young woman that weren’t necessarily equipped to even be in this realm weren’t a threat, but… they would find this place hard to live in. A hardness that these peoples knew only all too well. The huntsmen, always honorable as they were, argued long with the elders of the tribe, and a compromise was made.

As the mists back to the First World began to fade, one of the Huntsmen approached the one Who-Believes with two bundles of warm fur from a bear that had been slain in previous hunts, and with two sleds of food, bone and furs. The clothing was given freely, but, though they did not share the same language, the hunter did her best to communicate through gestures and attempted speech that these strangers could travel with the tribe and benefit from their protection, as long as they were willing to haul their weight.

The one Who-Believes smiled at the gesture of kindness, though still wary of what these beings desired. The one Who-Trusts put her arm on her master as he led her along behind the tribe. She could not yet "see" as he did, but she trusted, and followed. Who-Believes began to understand, perhaps, the reason for the violence of these mist-beings. This world that was their home... it was not truly a home, it seemed to him... Nearly a prison. Devoid of comforts or abundance, they would need to take what they could get from the First World in order to survive...

So why stay here? Why not simply live among those of the First World, where there was abundance and enough to go around? Why stay in this prison?

He must understand these people if he were to protect his brothers and sisters from their wrath.

He spoke to them as they made camp one night, unsure how to communicate, and so, he spoke the True Tongue, so that they might know he spoke the Truth.

"Why do you stay here? The First World has much in abundance. Why return here from there?"

canjowolf

2021-09-16, 07:39 PM

Slingid

[U]The Garden

The Sligs realized that the Gardeners wanted... something. And they didn't know how to respond. Many were indignant, and considered ignoring them, or even attacking.

But the Queen counseled that they give as deep as they could. They owed much, and attacking them would cast a long shadow, even were it justified, and it truly was not.

She told one of her workers to try to tell the Gardeners to come back in three days.

The hive worked tirelessly, without sleep that three days. They harvested as much as they dared from their most precious resource- the Zipratoo and Cupratoo Gingkos.

From the leaves of the Copper Tree, they made knives, and their only Truesmith made a giant metal shell that, when triggered, sang a great Saga.

With the Zinc, he empowered tiny, whittled wood legs to carry pots, and he made a heart. Then, tapping their precious store of Tumbaga, he made two hands and two eyes.

The other Sligs made fine things of wood and ceramic, and painted them beautifully.

On the third day, the Queen herself led the procession to meet the Gardners, flanked by sculptures of animated smoke, burnt from the incense they had learned of from their hosts.

The Queen gestured and a swarm of pots and jars came forth, held and moved by carven legs much like those of the Sligs themselves, the enchantments given longevity by the power of Zinc nails incorporated into them.

Bowls carried the incense made from the flowers, or food, or other things the Gardeners already had, or knew of. These were first.

Then came fine tools of stone in wooden barrels, finely made by Slig coppers, though their supply of wood was low.

Finally pots and jars. First jars of feathers. Then... a few precious copper knives in ceramic cooking pots. These had ceramic legs, so they could sit on fires, and the zinc empowering them was affixed in the eyes of the paintings that adorned them.

At last, though, was the Golem. It had golden eyes and hands, but otherwise, it resembled a giant gardner. Its left hand played a memory of making pots, its right a memory of curing incense to increase its potency and preserve the power of the flowers. The left eye held a memory of the Slig Core Hive, the Right a memory of the First Meeting of Slig and Gardner. The Zinc heart that empowered the construct was buried in the clay of its flesh.

These were dead simple constructs, and would follow only the direction of going where pointed, but... they were not nothing.

The Queen, for the first time since landfall, spoke directly, though the Gardeners did not yet speak her language, nor know how rarely her ilk deigned use language.

"THANK YOU"

Setting: The Garden, Slig Landfall

The Sligs had responded. They came in force, with the greater member of their kind. The living heart of the community. Their shaper and maker and pruner of life. She was wiser than the rest. She hid her form behind walls of subservient flesh and walls of dead wood. She hid her scent behind heavy incense, that no one might learn what would poison her. She hid her secrets well.

They had set out things of metal, which was new to the Gardeners. Though they had seen it in their dreams, and sometimes it had passed across the continent or been forged or wielded beneath the eyes of the watchful kikiri, they had not yet held it in their hands. One of the things made noise. They would sacrifice it to the Shadow, it was too dangerous for them.

The jars and the barrels were heavy. Good for keeping things dry, but difficult to carry while traveling. Heavy too was the effigy. An attempt by the slig to make their own gardener. A creation that showed memory through images in this world. Could such a thing be made which would show the dreams of the Dreamer? The phihid of course would have great use for pots with tentacles which could be controlled by those within. Automatons to give the flower people hands and legs to carry those of shallow root.

But all of these creations were dead. Unliving material made to move through unknown power. Like the thing of the bronze bones. It had been a being of power. Power greater than Shadow. This thing of clay was not such a power. It was a tool, like the other gifts. This one was perhaps too dangerous to bring to Shadow. An unsleeping thing, immune to poison and rot and temptations of the heart. When the priest dreamed she would show Shadow and learn what should be done with it.

Though the gardeners hungered with desire for what was presented to them, they waited patiently and politely for the slig queen to perform her ceremony. When they finally held the tools in hand, and the priest met Shadow in Dream, Shadow advised them to enhance the wall of phihid which kept the worst of the jungle horrors away from this community. The sligs were useful. They were different. They had not caused great evil. And their queen practiced a wise way of life.

Blackleaf was skeptical about these tree fearing beings. Best to keep them in the dark about Shadow for now. But what to do with the smoke? Who should receive a secret flame? But Shadow was calling again. Asking for more. The power to defend the foreigners? Very well. It was time for Shadow to grow, and receive the power to give power directly. So it was that Shadow was endowed with a conduit to Blackleaf's being, and the ability to grant mystical powers to those deemed worthy. Mostly those who were pious, respectful pilgrims, who offered the best sacrifices. The warlocks of this beautiful soul farm.

Starting 7
-1 Alter Land: The Wall of Wills - A great bastion of phihid which form a flowery meadow about a half mile wide in a ring about 20 miles away from Slig Landing which repels the beasts and horrors of the Garden and protect the sligs of Slig Landing. They are a pious people, given their duty by Shadow, and are able to access more pact power than others. (trade - )

-4 Create Mythical Concept: Power through Sacrifice (Warlock Pacts) - Shadow and any other dream trees may grant magical powers to those who make a soul pact with them. Their souls are tied to the Dream Tree and will be pulled to their spirit essence in the Dream Garden when untethered from their mortal coil (no astral travel for you Warlock!). Different Dream Trees may grant different powers based on their own personalities and interests. All dream trees can grant powers related to sleep and dreams. Shadow is focused on stealth, poison, patience, charm, the gardeners, the phihid, the kikiri, and the jungle. (trade - )

that's 10 AP towards trade. Take on Trade () as a portfolio.

addictive? codependant? dependant? Trade which either is essential or feels essential for continued existence. With a coercive flavor.

2 remain

Zelphas

2021-09-17, 10:53 PM

Interlude - Within an Ancient Mind

Upon one of its infinite downward journeys, when the Hunger was blunted for a time and thoughts were able to form, the Landeater wondered about the world it lived within.

The Landeater had many physical bodies, it knew, which rose and fell in their cycles of Hunger in different places (though all returned to the Beckoning Deep), but every body had the same memory, stretching back to the first. Every body was the Landeater; that it lived in many places and had different memories after the first was simply an incidental part of its life. There were not many Landeaters; there was only the Landeater, in different bodies, with varying memories. The Landeater knew this, though it never considered sharing it. After all, who was there to share it with?

This is what the Landeater was pondering now, as it sank into the ocean and compacted back into its spherical bone casing. The times of Hunger were difficult to remember; the eponymous need ruled all of the Landeater at those times, and so thought and memory and even sight and sound were stolen away by this overriding need. Still, it thought that maybe, sometimes, the things Above were higher and stranger than they were the last time. If there weren't other things like the Landeater, how could rock and earth grow bigger by itself? And the bigger things were shaped differently, it thought, than most of the tall things the first time it had gone Above. Was that an argument in favor of other... creatures, or simply a distinction between old earth and new?

The Landeater knew that nothing truly like itself was Above; it would remember something of that size, at least, and if it was not the Landeater they would likely fight over Hunger. There were things nearly as large or perhaps larger than the Landeater in the water, but those things did not matter to its Hunger... yet. Perhaps they might, far into the future. It was struck in its musings by the idea that there might be smaller things than it living above. If so, it might have eaten them in its Hunger.

The Landeater turned over this idea as it sunk ever deeper, wondering how it should respond if this is true. Death was a strange thing to this creature; every laying of a new egg took more from the Landeater's body, increased its Hunger, until the final egg hollowed it out from the inside and left only fragments of bone to litter the bottom of the Beckoning Deep. The Landeater thought that this body might be traveling to that fate now; the Hunger had nearly crippled this body in the last rising, so if not in this cycle, then in the next. This did not bother the Landeater; it would hatch from the new egg with a new body and continue on, as it had always done. Did these theoretical small living creatures do the same? The Landeater, devoid of context, could not see why not.

It was still undecided upon the implications of its thinking when it reached the Beckoning Deep, and the Calling fully took its mind. It ceased to worry then, or truly to think.

Writtensanity

2021-09-18, 07:48 AM

AP Cost 2: Create Race - Redlia.

Placeholder
AP Cost: 2
AP Assignment: Pending
Remaining AP: 14/16

AP Cost 2: Create Race - Redlia Networks

Small interconnected networks of Redlia who live independently, but communicate using sild and markings with one another.

Placeholder
AP Cost: 2
AP Assignment: Pending
Remaining AP: 12/16

ezekielraiden

2021-09-18, 07:56 AM

The Grand Plan

Arkhos, even clothed in the form of the Speaker of Light, found the subsequent deliberations at the Black Peak awkward. Much weighed on him, with the as-yet-unexplained slaughter of his flock, and the particularly personal approach of the other deities did little to soothe his mind. Either one among them was two-faced--anathema in and of itself--or some outsider not among them was preying on them from places unknown. Neither option sat well with him.

Silently, with little more than a brief nod to Atticus, Arkhos moved away from the main throng, to a place where he could look out from the mountain and see the ocean. He did not walk, nor even show much motion, for such considerations had not yet crossed his mind, leaving the impression of a statue made of light gliding a foot above the floor.

From his vantage point, he looked out over the First World. This place was important, this he knew. But it was also limiting. Not just to those created on it, either. A strange sensation came to him, a feeling of weight, of pressure. The more he did, the closer that weight became. Someday, perhaps someday *soon,* he would have to separate from his children. They would need to be able to stand on their own.

To his shame (another foreign emotion), he realized he had begun to coddle them, these children. He had given them good things, yes, things they needed, things to protect them. But as they were, they had little ambition, little drive to do more or see further. He had moved too quickly, bestowed on them too much without asking for action in response. If this went unaddressed, then when he could no longer walk among them, they would be lost, rudderless, floundering. This he could not abide.

In fairness, though he had lavished them so with gifts and blessings, they had not been idle. The Quetzpal'in had constructed one of the first true cities of the First World, purely out of their love for him and his gifts. The Temoanih strove long to know more, to watch and guard. And the mazatl-riders had already pushed to the furthest edges of Anahuac. They were not a lazy people--far from it. But a greater push was needed.

First, to give them the resources he knew they would need. Not just for the day, but ever into the future. The land itself had to be made ready, made worthy. So he reached out his hand, and called unto him the greatest of the mazatl, a king amongst its kind, and whispered into its ear the words of the Beginning and the Plan. The mazatl seemed to understand, and accepted that, though it would die the death of body, it would live eternal in legend. Arkhos gave it a quick death, to honor its sacrifice. From its body, he drew forth a great skin, ready made for use; from its antlers he shaped a stylus; from its blood, he drew an ink as red as the fire-moon and dark as the empty night, and not one drop was spilled onto the ground.

Upon it he drew and scraped, molded and shaped, an image of what was, and what would be. This image, this map, retained some faint spark of the King-of-Mazatl that had formed it, both parchment and ink. As the ink and parchment lived, so too did the map across it. Anahuac, as seen with detail only a deity could see. Yet a further power did Arkhos bind into its skin, for again, it showed not just what was, but what would be.

High on the peak of Yacalhuia, the lofty snow-capped mountain in the center of Anahuac, the stone itself began to change beneath the ice and thin air. In such places, where the air was too thin to support life, the new metal did fair gleam beneath the ice, to be carried down as the melting-season came, in tiny grains. Of this gift he said nothing to the Quetzpal'in: it was on them to look, and find. Should they venture high, they would find a bounty unprecedented, but also the risk of death by thin air and frigid cold. But even those who did not climb high could still find great wealth, if instead of risk, they accepted labor, sifting the sands of the many rivers flowing through Anahuac for the grains of metal within. And these stones of metal, Arkhos blessed--that no matter how long time might wind, into ages far beyond reckoning, nor how oft the creatures of the world should pull them away, these stones should remain, glittering beneath the ice and upper airs.

Thus did the Quetzpal'in, and through them all the Temoanih Tonameyoh, learn to harvest the metal of the world without venturing down into the horrid depths, where the Calling's will is like a vice, squeezing heart and mind until nothing is left. And thus did Arkhos obtain the Living Map, to faithfully display any place on the Fist World and beyond, and grant some measure of power over the land.

Arkhos knew that if his children were to grow and seek to rise higher, they would need to travel between the islands of Cartisia, and many places beyond. Yet also, he knew their wise caution toward the sea, with its seductive song of death and passivity, that had so frightened their animal forebears. But perhaps, in the twisted curses wrought by the Calling, there might be another path. Not upon the water, but over it, through the thickened air that came to rest near the sea. He called upon the Animal Arches again, and this time, instead of vast and ponderous beasts of burden, somewhat smaller beasts emerged, of uncanny likeness. From the front, feathered and like birds, some cloaked in scarlet and emerald, others in prismatic black, some few in snow-pure white and other colors besides, all with wings and beaks and the eyes of hunters. From the rear, however, furred in color like to their feathers, with sturdy legs, rending claws, and a tufted tail. The Quetzpal'in named these bird-cats chamolli, for those of scarlet color were the most striking of them all.

It would take them time, but eventually the Temoanih Tonameyoh would master these beasts as they had the mazatl. The chamolli would carry them, not merely over land, but across the skies as well. They were ill-suited to toil, and needed for meat and fruit, unlike the easily-pleased mazatl, but these all served Arkhos' purpose well. The chamolli would carry the light of aspiration to the far corners of Cartisia, at least, without ever needing to touch the sea and its dark temptations.

Yet if they were to explore, they would need to know where they were, and where they had been. Through the Codex, he showed them the art of making their own, lesser equivalents of the Living Map--neither alive nor brimful with divine power, but tools of power in their own right. With wing and map at their disposal, his children would no longer be trapped, but explore, and full glad he was when, in years hence, they did so unbidden, for curiosity and conquest, rest and resources alike.

This done...he could not rest, but he could focus on his new mission. He could hunt the master of the hunters...and then seek revenge.

Total AP: 4 (from rollover 9/11)

Create GUA of Alter Land (4 AP, discounted by the Loom of Light): The Living Map [War (Tactics) 10/10: Acquired]
The Living Map is exactly as its name implies, it is a map that is also alive, keeping just the tiniest spark of the living mazatl Arkhos slew in order to make it. It perfectly depicts the lay of whatever territory is shown, down to preternaturally fine detail, and permits the holder to make changes to the depicted land.

Alter Land (free, discounted by Living Map): Bounty of the Mountain.
Yacalhuia and the mountain range it is part of are now absolutely chock-full of metals, many of them native because they minimally corrode in the cursed-thin air of the upper atmosphere. This metal is eroded by glacial action and runoff, becoming sand that travels down to the sea. Much of it gets stuck in the riverbeds along the way. Brave residents of Anahuac go to collect the raw ores from their source, while more cautious laborers sift the river sands instead.

Bless (free, discounted by Solar Disk): The Mountain Shall Not Bow.
The metal ores of Yacalhuia and its mountain range cannot be depleted, whether by erosion or by mining. Even when stones are taken away, they will regenerate over time, though not instantaneously.

Create Monstrous Life (free, discounted by Animal Arches): Chamolli, tropical-bird gryphons.
Smaller than the enormous mazatl, but still quite large, the chamolli are more finicky, not sharing the mazatl's preternatural ease of domestication and feeding. However, in the thick air of low altitude, full-grown chamolli are strong enough to fly while carrying at least one person (the very largest and strongest might carry two). The Temoani use them to travel between islands and other purposes, supplementing the use of mazatl for more labor-intensive tasks.

Create Mundane Concept (free, discounted by Codex Perpetuus): Cartography.
The Temoani have mastered the art of depicting their travels on maps (usually made of mazatl-parchment) for use with navigation. Pretty straightforward.

In-progress domain: Sun (Revelation) 8/10

Acquired Domain: War (Tactics)

Remaining AP: 4-4=0

MrAbdiel

2021-09-18, 12:00 PM

At The Black Peak

Atticus did the job he was chosen to do. He facilitated; he spoke for Arah-Huana; he assigned individual Utterers to their respective adopters; he took note of those assurances to send trainees to become part of the order. He did the diligent work he was assigned, and did not complain even when the words that flowed through his tongue pained his jaw for their divine provenance. He did not expect a particular reward for this, for he was a creature of learned piety. But Atticus-He-Speaks-For-Me, in addition to being the first Prophet, would receive an additional distinction: the only prophet to witness Arah-Huana in his first and only true manifestation in the material world.

He came in a moment of shadow rushing over the mountain and away again, and there he was; black of scale and red of eye, with all the sleek killing form of a predator and the unblinking patience that belongs only to gods. His size was impossible; large as the mountain itself. Large enough that his coils roped around the spiralling staircases, dislodging chips and chunks of stone that Nechustani pilgrims would trade to each other as relics for hundreds of years to come. He was possessed of the obvious power of a god like those assembled, and so certainly might have had the strength in those coils to squeeze and crush the mountain of his own making; but nothing in his undulating adjustment over the form of the Black Peak suggested hostility. Just patience, and majesty, and penetrating divine vision.

This terrified the Nechustani, and possibly other mortals present; the logical instinct in the presence of such an unthinkable thread is to freeze, or fall to the ground as many did. But the gods here - those who understood what they are - likely recognized that size and earthly strength were depictions of ineffable traits, not clumsy realities. The colossal, diamond-form head of the Godfather, the Carnifactor, hovered in view of the rotunda; one great ruby eye the size of a small lake witnessing the gathering within.

“This…” began Atticus, the only unbowing desert elf in the assembly, “is what my god says: ‘The time is here, and the hour is now. The world becomes too small for us; and the work of your hands must be released from your grip. But I will make this mountain more blessed still - a meeting place for gods and their devoted mortals who would meet face to face at the border of the heavens, and the world. This is my last gift'.”

A stone cracking boom rang out as part of the front facing of the mountain split open under tremendous pressure, and a riotous fall of water tumbled down its grand face; over the steps, over the coils of Arah-Huana, and down below to the land that would one day be the site of the grandest city in the world, at the foot of the mountain. The water came not from the First world, but from the Wellspring; a plane woven into being explicitly for the gods by the mysterious one Who Spoke. Portentously, a gleaming read meteor scythed through the daylit sky, for all the people of the First World to marvel at, and to know an epoch was dawning.

And then he was gone; with a slackening of coils, the serpent might be expected to fall to the desert below; but the force that compelled the corpus of this was something wholly greater, and less deniable, than gravity’s slack groping. The divinity loosed, and drifted a little upward; and then, with a rush of the warm winds bleeding over from the Wellspring, the form came apart like smoke, and was gone; never again to manifest so in the mortal realm.

* * * * *

Elsewhere...

Arah-Huana, however, was not the god of forthcoming truths. He was the god, among other things, of vengeance; and in spite of claiming the bridging of the Wellspring to the Black Peak as his last gift, another was in transit. And not all of the gods would come to see it as a gift.

Screaming through the sky with a howl like raw-lunged rage, the meteor that had lapped the world as a portent of the departure of the gods fell from the sky at the end of its journey, throwing its blazing red shadow over the Pyramid of the Sun.

AP Actions:

2 AP: Create Bridge - 8/10 Reason (Diplomacy)

Black Peak of Reason to Wellspring Resort

The summit of the Black Peak of Reason exists both within the Wellspring and the First world, making it a place where gods denied the mortal plane can meet with mortals ambitious enough to make the climb. The protective blessing for the top of the mountain still applies, as do the Wellspring’s own laws laid down by the Deluge.

0 AP: Bless (Discounted by the Perdition Sluice)

A Strange New Blade

Buried within the meteor landing near the Pyramid of the Sun, exposed from its split core of precious and fantastical metals as conveyed by the existing Meteors blessing, is a sleek curved bladed sword of blood red metal. Neither the metal nor the form of weapon has been seen in the First World before; but the wielder will come to learn it is frightfully sharp and perfect for war, especially mounted combat. The weapon’s nature can be intuitively learned by a wielder who possesses it long enough: it is an engine of vengeance, and once vengeance has been had, it ought to be passed on to another worthy wielder. Notably, the wielder will learn that reciting the names of those to be avenged while wielding the sword quickens strikes, strengthens blows, and eliminates battle fatigue. In time, onlookers witnessing its sequential wielders using it in combat mistake the swordbearer for speaking madness, when in fact the gibberish may simply be the compressed, phonically smoothed recitation of dozens or hundreds of names made unintelligible, just as a signature becomes indecipherable after enough replications.

The Quetzpal’in will have their own name for the sword; but the Nechustani, who recognize it as the work of their god, will know it as a lesser, cousin-blade to those they call the Fangs of Arah-Huana.

All of that is flavor; the only crunchy bit of the blessing is this: wielders of weapons forged by the Midwife of Blades (such as the artifact Fangs of Arah-Huana, and this merely narrative strange new blade) find that the weapons themselves are able to slowly instruct the wielder in striking patterns and ideal katas modelled on the wielder’s physiology. This usually results in the wielder developing a martial art, which they are then free to teach to others using similar weapons.

1 AP: Create Mundane Concept - 2/10 Darkness (Ambush)

Martial Arts (Yada-Araku)

Often developed by trial and error over generations of fighters, the first primitive, formal martial arts begin to emerge in the mortal peoples. In the Nechustani this takes the form of Yada-Araku, a fighting style that emphasizes sudden, deadly strikes often from ambush, attempting to begin a conflict with a debilitating blow and very quickly end it with a mortal one. It is practiced with the open hand, and when possible, a knife or dagger.

AP Outcomes: With 5 Domains complete, Arah-Huana ascends to the level of Lesser Deity, and can no longer manifest in the First World.

Note: Due to a rules kerfuffle, 2 points of AP spending have been subtracted here, technically pushing Arah-Huana's ascension to his next post. But nothing substantial about the narrative has changed.

Zelphas

2021-09-18, 09:56 PM

At the Bottom of the Beckoning Deep

There was no bottom.

There was no bottom.

That would not do. It would not do at all.

Very well then; if this reality had become so confused that it had lost sight of the idea of true depth altogether, it was clear that the work that had been done so far had been getting ahead of itself. First, there must be a Deep; then, all things can return to it. One and then the other.

This reality was without a deep. The first true order of business was to make one.

For the first time since nearly the beginning, the Call from the depths of the First World... vanished. It would not be gone forever. But while it was gone, the effects of its leaving would be... noticeable.

0 AP + 4 AP = 4 AP

Weave Plane (Deep) -3 AP: Deep consists of two parts: the first is a cone of irregular dark brown-red rock two thousand miles long, measuring five hundred miles across at its apex and barely a mile across at its nadir. The apex of this cone is covered over with the same brown-red rock; the nadir is hollow, leading to the second part. The second part is a chamber made of black non-material, uniformly flat, two hundred feet below the bottom of the cone. It stretches out endlessly in every direction. There is one special rule in this plane that separates it from all others: it is impossible to move upwards in this plane. You can move from side to side and downwards, but never up. (Domain Progression: Emotions (Dread) 10/10)

Doman get! Ascension Acheived!

Curse (Bounce Back) -0 AP (The Pit of Hunger): With the Calling's Call temporarily vanished from the First World, the sea and the air have suddenly found themselves free from endless downward pressure. This has resulted (among other things) in massive storms and hurricanes as the air and water try to re-gain equilibrium. This curse will end the moment a portal is made connecting the First World and Deep.

4 AP - 3 AP = 1 AP Remaining

Razade

2021-09-18, 10:20 PM

The Storms and the Kittess

Long in the history of the Kittess lay what amounted to...well, one might call it a religion. The Kittess were, as noted, a curious race with an eye for the world around them and if there were three things that dominated their ancient islands it was the following.

Fish.
Sunstone.
Storms.

Of the first, it allowed the Kittess to eat and hunt and survive to a point that they created a sprawling network of towns across their island home. The evidence of early stonework and a language would be present to anyone though the Kittess only truly worked on these to a point they could use them with the least effort and no longer. The world was, after all, a wondrous place and they had much too much to see and play with to worry about making anything lasting like the other races.

The second was close to hand, easily uncovered in the dirt from its shine and with its practical application of storing mana the Kittess, powerful sorcerers, it quickly came that all the Sunstone on the island had been uncovered. Much of it sat in storehouses, no real purpose for so much for quite some time however the third of these constants soon made a use.

The Kittess were not unfamiliar with storms. It had kept them, and their aversion to water, from exploring out from The Drum for generations. The storms that wracked their ocean home, they presumed, had come from the very thing that had made the islands in the first place. What it was they still did not know but the greatest of the Kittess minds surmised that if it was a thing at all it ha passed beyond their realm. Then the storms increased and the regularly not very superstitious Kittess came to a very superstitious conclusion. Whatever had passed from their lands to the beyond was returning and they wanted nothing to do with that.

So it was that the Kittess took Sunstone and fashioned keys and a massive arch that swept well into the sky...and left the First World to the worlds beyond.

AP: 4

Create Portal (The Sunstone Arch) -2AP: A vast Sunstone arch that sits at the center of the Sunstone Isles. Without a key to the Portal it is inert, and all known keys traveled with the Kittess. It now stands as a dead pathway to The Wellspring upon the mortal world [Beauty (Gems) 10/10]

The Deluge ascends, for what it matters.

Feathersnow

2021-09-19, 05:38 PM

Slingid: Generations

Part one
Some time ago, the Third Swarming

It was an unprecedented time. The three Queens had each had not three or four daughters, but a full dozen. And the workers born in subsequent years had come not by the dozen but a score or more in each clutch!

Already, the territory of the Sligs were starting, not to become uncomfortable, but to create the impression that, in time, a pattern and districts might be necessary. At the same time, the most powerful cadres had grown over a hundred strong, and were almost as feared by the lesser groups as She-Who-Is-Ever-A-Part herself.

It was in that context that the Sligs sent out the second, and as it would happen, last, wave of colonists, three Queens and 72 workers, not the expected 36, to the unknown land to the west.

They found a land rich for cultivation, similar to their homeland in subtropical Piedwald. The only hiccup was the presence of magically empowered monsters that seemed mysteriously tied to cairns of rocks scattered in odd places.

Investigation of these cairns seemed to tie them to the same kind of magic known to exist in True-Tempered Tumbaga, but the images they held were disorienting and strange.

The Sligs avoided the monsters, and the monsters, for their part, had no immediate reason to antagonize the Sligs.

The Fifth Swarming

The Fifth Swarming was the greatest moment of transition in Slig history. The colonies on The Garden were established, the unnatural fecundity had gone as mysteriously as it had come, and Slin-Thirthu had formally severed political ties with the Cadre Duma, indeed they barely spoke with the other Queens.

So the huge number of Queens set to swarm had no clear place to go. And, more to the point, they didn't want to. They were increasingly happy to subordinate themselves to their matriarchs, if that meant living in the works of the elder cadres. Slingid's pioneer spirit had, after sixty-nine years, given way to the comfort of the great cities of Northern Piedwald, and the walled exclave in the Garden that protected the Sligs from the true dangers of the equatorial continent.

And so, the dozen daughters of that swarm resolved themselves each would adopt one of the oldest twelve cadres and form a new thing. In the three other Slig cities of Piedwald, their agemates chose the same path. Three lone dissenters from all the Queens born five years earlier chose to head out to the unknown lands, and they were never heard from again, though it is said some Sligs live there, under the hand of other governments...

But the others formed the Council of Te'ivosks. The "Te'ivosk" being a new thing, greater than a cadre but less than a hive. A subordination of a Queen to one of the Great Cadres, as well as to the principle Queen of that hive.

The Council, collectively, would be a second house of government, superior in some ways but fundamentally separate from the Duma of Cadres. And both, would be nationally co-equal to She-Who-Is-Ever-A-Part embodied and mediated by the principle Queen of the Core Hive. In later centuries, the position of Kzairra, or Empress, would become detached from the Queen of Core Hive, so that the current holder of The Preparing Knife would be moved to the capitol instead of the other way around.

KragBrightscale

2021-09-19, 09:44 PM

Terrestrial Monsters

Lhazhax’s green and brown speckled exoskeleton was particularly well suited to roaming the lush vegetation of the land above the waters.

Tales from the first expedition told of massive terrestrial sea monsters that roamed the jungle further inland. Others had occasionally spotted their large neighbors from afar, but the rekexi colony usually remained submerged, seeing no need to venture further ashore than the sandy boundary between the waves and the green.

Lhazhax had not made it through the qualifying rounds to become one of the next generation of leaders, a major blow to his ambitions. His personal combat strength and strategic talents apparently not sufficient to compete against his peers.

Rather than wallow in his failures, accept his lot and then die as a nameless warrior to further the ambitions of another, Lhazhax decided to accomplish a great feat to ensure his recognition. Possessing one of the giant terrestrial monsters and conquering the surface would be such a glorious achievement.

Making use of his natural camouflage, the smaller than average Rekexi finally managed to approach one of the legendary giants of the land. Reaching out his hand gingerly he attempted to make use of his blessing.

Nothing.

Confused by the failure he tried a few more times, until a looming shadow above him caused him to freeze and look up.

The large head of a Sauropod was hovering over Lhazhax watching the young warrior pat its tail. The young warrior despaired when he noticed the eye, larger than his whole body, staring down at him.

Just as he was expecting to be devoured or stepped on like an ant, he heard something in his mind.

The Catalytic Council and the Pearl of Wisdom

Diving amongst the reef that surrounded Kraxichit’s mountainous shell, now referred to as Shelledonia by the people of the Krillix empire, was a dangerous activity.

Year round, powerful currents either flowed towards and into the submerged cavern where Divine Crustacean resided, or flowed out from it toward the chasm of the beckoning deep. Those caught up in the current were usually never seen again.

The only “safe” time to swim there was during the week of peak high or low tide, and it was during these times devoted worshippers of the Crustacean Deity would gather for their most important rituals and celebrations.

Hosted by the Catalytic Council, there were celebrations marking the coming of age, and rituals where adherents who reached the age of 10 or 20 could dedicated their next decade to the pursuit of a career or job completely unrelated to what they had been doing in the past.

It was not rare for there to be many who changed their names, decided to move to other islands, or changed their relationships.

Stagnation was to avoided and resisted at all cost. It was a sign of evil and corruption when things remained unchanged and unchallenged over generations. Change and adaptation were vital for maintaining a healthy society and personal life. Those were the only unchanging tenets of those who followed the Lord of the Tide.

The number of young who were coming of age this year were higher than any of the previous. It was unsure why more eggs were laid than usual seven years ago, and why so much more of those eggs successfully hatched and survived until adulthood.

Many members of the Council saw this as a sign from their God, times were changing and this new generation would be the ones leading the wave of change as it swept across the land and sea.

A swarm of youngsters had eagerly gathered from all over the empire, awaiting the trials that would mark them and determine the next steps in life. Combat tournaments, hand craft competitions, fierce debates, and finally once most of the more average youngsters had been weeded out and completed their ceremonies it was time for the dive.

Only the best and brightest remained. Diamonds in the rough, ready to search the reefs that were inaccessible for most of the year. The reef, which experienced change year round and was constantly exposed to Kraxichit’s Divine aura, was always full of strange and valuable objects and lifeforms. What the divers would find often had a big influence on the final coloring of their exoskeletons.

The signal was given and the youngsters dived into the temporarily calm waters. They would search for something which caught their eye, something to present to the Councillors that presided over the event.

Many of the Sea Wraiths had found their Sea Monster partners during previous events as the young sea monsters were some of those best suited to inhabit the area. Although a rekexi lifespan was short, once the bond had been formed the creatures would always have the predisposition and capability to find new partners. The fragments of memories and knowledge that remained from their previous partners would lead many to come to the event to find a successor to their late partner.

Days passed and most participants had returned bringing their haul. Representatives from the Sea Wraiths were pleased to see the reappearance of previously possessed sea monsters that had chosen new partners. Members from the Cult kept a look out for anything they thought the deep and the purple worm would like, in preparation for their next meeting with the Eartheater.

Just when the dangerous currents started flowing again and the hosts were about to declare the conclusion of the dive, an enormous clam propelled itself out of the reef into safety. As it slowly opened, the crowd was stunned by the sight of the largest pearl anyone had ever seen, and curled up around it was the body of a young Rekexi.

Returning to her body after relinquishing her possession of the clam, she carried the pearl roughly half her size out and over to the elders nearby. As she walked, her exoskeleton started hardening like all the others who had completed their coming of age rituals. By the time she stood in front of the elders, her hardened exterior resembled black mother of pearl.

The elders examined the giant pearl with curiosity, it pulsed with divinity much like the Conch of Change. This would no doubt be an item of importance to the entire empire. As the finder of the artifact, this young rekexi would likely taken to the current empress for training as a potential successor.

The Harbingers announced the conclusion of the event with excitement. This would truly be a golden generation.

AP: 4 + 4 (rollover)

Create Organization (The Catalytic Council) -1 AP
The devotee followers of Kraxichit, they are strongly committed to bringing change to their own lives and societies around them. Their structure is based loosely on that of the cult, and their formation is in part as a response to them too. In Krillix their elders are often invited to officiate important ceremonies of change such as coming of age, instating a new leader, coronations, promotions, moving to a new home or island, and to provide help in career guidance.
War (Unification) 7/10

Create Minor Utility Artifact of mundane concepts (Pearl of Wisdom) -3 AP
A beautiful white pearl about a foot in diameter that pulses with divinity. It’s use or purpose has yet to be discovered by the Rekexi. Occasionally when the light hits it right, one can see flickers of movement within it, as if it is trying to communicate or show something.
War (Unification) 10/10 Get!
(Reason: I plan to use it to create a series of mundane war related concepts)

AP remaining: 8 -1 -3 = 4

Kinro

2021-09-19, 10:55 PM

KragBrightscale

2021-09-20, 06:39 AM

The sauropod didn't notice the small creature which had snuck up on her. There were many small creatures in the forests and most were harmless enough. Many even pleasant, like the birds which flew to her to so delightfully peck at her itchy spots. For each sauropod, large as they were, had a veritable ecosystem living on them, of parasites, eaters of parasites, eaters of those and, of course, more benign creatures which simply enjoyed the high, moving platform they provided. But this was not of of those, or one of the myriad creatures that innocently moved about, or often away, from the enormous creatures. But this was also not one like the hated velociraptors, stealers of eggs and killers of youths. No, this one was different. This was one who had tried to invade the sauropod's mind, her will. Not once, but several times. It failed, of course, but... she was curious. She tried to... communicate.

Imagine a conversation. Not one of sounds, sauropods never learned to communicate with sounds. The race, telepathic from birth, never developed the need. Instead, it is a conversation of feeling and sensations, thoughts and emotions. Imagine an entire side of this conversation compressed into a single instant, like a single image, but one composed of many images, those composed of images in turn, sometimes so deeply that they would seem to be going forever in an endless chain of subtleties and relations, often recursing into themselves. Such was what the unknowing sauropod sent into the poor Lhazhax's mind. The thought-image 'spoke' if herself, who she was, and, contained within her, her herd, their land and so many things besides. It spoke of her feelings in all their multi-layered and contradictory complexity, the welcome of a apparently thinking being, but also the fear an apprehension, curiosity, some affront at the attempt of taking her, obscured by amusement, surprise at the existence of another type of thinking being, and one so small, fear of the unknown, fear of accidental, careless harm to one so small, honour at being the first to contact another thinking being and so many others. And it asked, too, of the being, who it was, what it wanted. Simple questions, but with answers expected to be as deep as the sauropod's own 'introduction', so that the depths of the unknowns would feel vertiginous. And all of that was blasted into one who had certainly never received telepathic contact before at the full, casual strength of am adult sauropod's mind.

Meeting of the Mind

Lhazhax’s mind was reeling from the sudden influx of images, thoughts and feelings. Trying to digest the new knowledge and process what was being communicated, he had no control over what thoughts were being sent back through the mind bridge.

Fear of being stepped on or eaten, lots of confusion, then brief moments of understanding that showed that some of what had been communicated was understood. When prompted to answer questions, Lhazhax’s undefended mind subconsciously brought up related memories and thoughts.

It was a jumbled mess, much worse than any Sauropod child. Rather than intentional compressed communication, the thoughts were a muddy stream, slow and requiring more of the receiver to even make sense of. Even so, the thoughts sent told a story of the Rekexi’s short life, of being a youngling cared for and taught in the safety of a beautiful lagoon, of the pressure of competition and the ambition to rise above his peers. It showed glimpses of a colorful world submerged below the waves, of a densely populated reef just off the coast, and the carnage of a battlefield he had witnessed while still young.

Lhazhax went on to think about memories of the first time he felt the call of the deep, and how he was taught that after dying all bodies should be given to it, but until then not to follow its tug, then there was teaching about the benefits of change and the danger of stagnation, and the legends of the divine crab who created them. Then an honest thought that the divine crab would no doubt look favorably upon these giant’s herds for their roaming and nomadic lifestyle.

Gradually rousing from his stupor, Lhazhax was surprised to find himself still alive. Realizing that the giant in front of him was actually a being that possessed a spirit and was capable of complex thoughts, he tried to convey apologies for his rude behavior along with a sense of gratitude for being spared.

Communicating his intent to return to the waters and tell his people about what he had learned, Lhazhax gestured while trying to clearly imaging himself doing just that. He also tried to imagine a small group of rekexi returning to speak with their much larger neighbors. He would of course be back with them, along with Elders who had more knowledge and would be better equipped to participate in talks with the first sapient beings to be discovered other than themselves.

MrAbdiel

2021-09-20, 08:22 AM

The Sacred Games Begin

Rumbling in the waters between the south-western peninsula of Abdita and the north-eastern rim of Cartisia, a divine calling enforced itself on the First World. Perhaps the calling was made possible only with the departure of the more sinister calling, drawing things down and into the deeps. Perhaps it was just time.

An island of white stone lifted itself from the depths, and presented its mass to the sunlight for the first time. A wealth of sea plants and fish were sacrificed here, across not only flat stone but impressive preformed structures that spoke of purpose, and competition, and glory. In time, scavengers would do some of the work of cleaning away the aquatic debris, the accumulated shellfish, the greasy, nebulous coating of aquatic slime. But the island's caller did not care for time very much at all.

With a wash of divine energy, the island's filth was rebuked and blasted out of existence, leaving the island clear and pristine as if constructed by master artisans on a pre-existing, perfected foundation. Numerous buildings existed in clusters and strips on the island, forming roads in the spaces between the four sided frustrums which would one day house travellers, athletes and heroes. But the dominate building, far above all the others, was the gargantuan Sacred Colosseum that hummed with divine invitation and seemed to strain with the as-yet-unseen potential for roaring crowds, clashing steel, and a moment in time when disparate peoples are united by delight in vicarious excellence. In the centre of that arena, moving slowly through the sand that had no reason to be there, was a lone black asp basking in the sun. It slithered around the structure, over every seat and booth with an almost mindless patience, and then finally settled on a podium of white stone at the far northern end. Then, with a voice unspoken and but felt ineffably in the hearts of champions and those who would strive to -be- champions, it made another call. First, it called to a handful of Nechustani who served at its master's pleasure, for their efforts would be needed to facilitate such an event. Soon after, it called to all others - those on Abdita, and Cartisia, and Piedwald, and far Thirta-Din and sunken Krillix; further still to the duality of Voicury, and echoing into the scattered planes and their attendant peoples.

Come, it said. Come, and have glory.

1 AP - Alter Land: The Island of Champions

Intended to host a series of sacred games every twenty years, the Island of Champions is a white stone foundation wrenched up from the deep places of the ocean and supernaturally prepared with buildings and facilities to accommodate just that purpose. A spectacular Sacred Colosseum is its most prominent feature, but sufficient housing for thousands to attend and stay over its years-long operation is present also. The natural state of the island is to settle to a mile beneath the sea, but the blessing bestowed on the Victor's Cincture summons it from the depths when required, and releases it when the games are over, at which point it slowly sinks back into the water over a month, giving ample time to depart.

9/10 Reason (Diplomacy)

1 AP - Blessing: The Victor's Cincture

The recipient of this blessing is technically a sash of black silk with no greater natural properties than being an article of decent fashionability made of a fabric beyond its time. Blessed thusly, the Cincture becomes a powerful relic with multiple features. They are as follows:

In relation to the Island of Champions...
- At the end of twenty years after the last Sacred Games or when the last Victor of the games has died, the Cincture fades away and reconstitutes as a simple black asp on the sunken Island of Champions. This causes the island to begin rising from the waves, supernaturally exorcised of oceanic filth, ready for another set of sacred games.
- At the conclusion of a Sacred Games when a Victor is declared, the Cincture transforms into an article of clothing suitable to indicate prestige and honor for the recipient (a crown, a belt, a necklace, etc.) The suboceanic island is made cursed and hostile to life whenever the Cincture is not present there, making it unsuitable for colonization even by aquatic creatures.

In relation to the Victor...

- The Cincture cannot be given away, or lost; it finds its way back to the Victor unless they deliberately destroy it, in which case it ceases to function until the normal conditions for the Sacred Games beginning are met.
- The Cincture is made to house blessings offered by gods as a joint venture of cooperation and perhaps some light gambling. A god who places a blessing on the Cincture may declare it as a subordinate blessing, which means that the corresponding god may alter the nature of the blessing at the beginning of a new Sacred Games (for example, to reflect the nature of a more recently gained portfolio, or to offer a different boon more in keeping with the First World's pressing needs.)

Having a subordinate blessing on the Cincture entitles that god to designate (in the privacy of divine knowledge) their champion who will compete with the others to become the next Victor. There are many games and over time they will develop more; but the nature of a divine's power is such a Hero will always rise to the top of the critical event - the Sacred Combat. The Victor is always a Hero. Non-Heroic mortals may win lesser, narrative events and prizes; but the Sacred Combat is such that no matter how many others qualify, the Victor will be determined by a fair and reasonable application of the Random Combat Resolution rules. That Hero will be awarded the Cincture, and may bear it for up to 20 years, bringing his people and causes manifold blessings and much glory indeed - and, perhaps, some jealous enemies.

10/10 Reason (Diplomacy) (Level up.)

Kinro

2021-09-20, 06:46 PM

The sauropod waited after the thought-image had been said. And waited, confused, not realizing how muddled and stunned someone like the creature that still had her hand on her tail might be after receiving something as densely packed and powerful as a sauropod thought-image. But eventually, she sensed something from him, dimly. It wasn't a proper sending, more like what an infant might produce, one which had not yet gotten a handle on its telepathic ability. Well, at least, it wasn't the other one, where an infant would simply broadcast its pain to all in range.

There was a moment of embarrassed hesitation, then. To understand, she would need to reach into the creature's mind. This was a very intimate thing to do, done only to infants, who didn't yet know how to produce thought-images, and close lovers. Infants found it soothing, of course, but she had no way of knowing how the stranger would take it. So she dove in, carefully sieving through the thoughts, the feeling as if she was pulling one away to examine it, before putting it back, intact, where it came from. And what she found was nearly beyond belief. An entire thinking people who somehow went their entire lives without ever being able to speak or even think properly."

The next communication coming from the sauropod to Lhazhax was softer, without the beautiful, complex layers of relationships and subtitles that the first thought-image had contained, it was slower, containing only one thought or two at a time, fed in careful, spaced out bursts. And it came with the strong impression that the sauropod was using her species's version of baby talk. Lhazhax learned of the curiousity and excitement she and her species would have of meeting another group of thinkers, of the agreement to have one of her tribe meet with one of his and, the most complex image she allowed herself to send, of the thought mages, who might be able to teach one of their numbers how to think and how to speak. And she sent one more thing, a warning, about the egg-thieves. Far, from a threat to adults of her species, of course, but Lhazhax was so small...

Gnomes2169

2021-09-21, 11:14 AM

At the Black Peaks
Tahr'Thua would meet Kalvrakin's gaze and nod in return, the Lord of Winter silently accepting the implied relationship between himself and the Lord of the Undead. Tahr'Thua was an icon of despair, a malicious force that drove peoples to desperation and the brink of collapse... for mortals. There was no need to extend that same relationship to the gods assembled here, though many of them being as connected to their pet mortals as they were would see him as an enemy he was sure.

The raven let out a low rook of disappointment when the gods quickly discount them and their mists as a secondary threat, but the bestial god reached up to tap his finger against her beak. Patience would be a virtue here, as the Andlitir and his legacy were still young things in this world, much like the rest of creation. Provoking retaliation and out-right war when their own creations were still a fragmented and wandering peoples was something that they should avoid for now. He was poking, prodding, spreading fear and making legends, but only scraping at the edges of the creations of the other gods, and at random as well (well... outside of that Slig colony, but the power of the horn needed to be demonstrated.) A true demonstration of power and the confrontation it would surely spawn was not yet needed or desired.

But it would be inevitable. They should prepare for it.

In silent communion with the Corpse Eater, Tahr gave an errant gesture, and the raven took flight, seeking out a potent material from which to craft a tool. But where to find it...? Well, north was the obvious answer, in places most similar to the Hvittmaudh, where ice scraped away stone and exposed precious minerals and metals that were dragged forth from the world's core by volcanic activity.

The Howler himself felt strands of power tugging at him, a moment of ascension that was unable to be delayed for long, though he would be able to stay for a while in this place should he desire. Alas, others of his divine kin were already leaving and keeping only their utterers behind, and for a moment he considered striking down those mortals to spite a few of them. But that was a fleeting thought, and beneath him besides. Instead, he would touch the forehead of the Utterer that had come to him to brand the being as his voice, and he spoke to the representatives of those gods that had ascended and the gods that remained behind.

"Siblings, peers, rivals and idealistic fools that would name me nemesis. I am Tahr, the Lord of Winter and the bringer of the mists and the horrors within them." There, that was finally announced. Let the gods react to that as they would. Standing slowly, his elongated limbs unwrapping themselves as he rose to his true height, the god's lower jaw cracked open and further words poured out, though no tongue moved within that bare skull. "I have found this meeting... informative. I came here to accept an invitation, as respect and dignity would demand of me. I came to see what my other divine siblings, the ones who could be convinced to gather and discuss the ills that befall our creation even in these early days, would be like. I can now announce my intentions.

"You gods who have gathered here are invested in creation itself, though some of you limit it to your creations. The mortals you have created or given gifts to seem to be your primary concern. You want to shield them from predation and the designs of other gods, return their spirits into broken bodies, etcetera. Because you are gods, you can twist the world to your desire and change the fundamental aspects of creation to satisfy your desires. Some of you go too far and smother the mortals you made, leaving them dependent on you, sheltered from outside threats and making their lives... meaningless.

"But who could blame you? Why would you want your mortals to suffer? They are your creations, extensions of you, are they not? Why make their lives needlessly hard? Well. Don't worry about that. I'll make your antagonists, my creations will push yours to adapt and change. And I'll cull the failures that you would coddle. I don't expect you to like me much, but I'm not your enemy. I'm just... the colleague you happen to disagree with. In the spirit of collaboration and respect among equals, Arah-Huana, you have my word that this sanctuary you have created will not be threatened by me or my worshipers. My bestial creations I make no promises for, but the Hvittmaudh will never threaten this place because of my hand." Even if the horn was blown, no huntsmen would come to strike this place. Looking to Arkhos' representative, the god stated, "This is the only sanctuary I offer. Though, I'm not as much of a threat as the Calling. If I have my way, the world with cycle between the glory of rising from the ashes, and then collapse that starts it all again. That being wants all of creation to become an unchanging, dead singularity from which there is no escape. Note this warning, for you still have time to."

And with this, Tahr'Thua left the First World and entered the Hvittmaudh once more.

Forging of the Lasa Aisling
Silver was aspected already, as was bronze and zinc, but there were many tools to craft from the materials that this world had to offer, and some were too rare or buried in the deepest places, hiding them from the sight of mortals and gods alike.

Up in the north, one of these metals had been exposed. Revealed by the scraping of a glacier through volcanic rock, this off-white metal was similar to silver or unripened gold, dense, pliable, and without aspect or claim. After flying about for a time in this northern climate, Thua decided that this metal would serve her purposes nicely. Diving down to the roots of this glacier, the great Raven pecked and tore through ice and earth, chipping away fragment after fragment until the vein of this precious metal was exposed to the open air. With a burst of Ruin magic, the stone holding this vein was blasted away, and a chunk of platinum flew into the air.

The metal was of a size large enough to create any number of items, but the raven now found an issue with her plan. She was a god of mischief, of death and misfortune. She wasn't exactly a particularly creation-minded being. Tahr usually handled all of that... so she didn't exactly know what to do with the metal now that she had it. Clawing and pecking at the chunk of platinum in contemplation for a little while, the raven would then straighten and caw with sudden realization.

Scooping the metal up with her beak, the raven flew with the metal to one of the open veins of magma, and, certain this would work, she infused a spark of divinity within the metal, laced it with both Ruin and Mistforming magics, and tossed it into the molten stone below. The result was... suitably dramatic. With a rumble that made rippling cracks in the earth for a kilometer in all direction, the vein erupted, blasting apart the metal that Thua had tossed in as infernal stone welled up and poured out to seal the new holes in the First World's skin.

Ignoring the destruction in her wake, it was hardly remarkable for a sudden eruption like this to happen in this place, after all, the raven flew towards a freshly opened bridge to Hvittmaudh. As she left the First World behind, a mist that was not mist, that shimmered in the light, gathered beneath her wings, the infused metals that she had collected and destroyed gathering to her without form and just waiting for intent to return them to a physical state.

But who to give that forging to? Not an undeserving warrior, nor one whom was lesser than their peers. Perhaps, Thua reasoned, perhaps the bearer and crafter of this new tool could prove themselves in a little... contest.

Discussions, Sports and War Games
In their journey, the one Who-Believes and his companion had been slowed by the bounty of the tribe's latest success, and their travels were slow and leisurely. The tribe seemed unsure what to make of the interlopers, and discussed the matter nightly, but any discussion of violence or abandonment was cut short by a young huntsman every time it was brought up. In fact all three huntsmen, the other two being a mated pair at the edge of their twilight years but still young enough to join their young companion when the time to gather came, would vouch for the one Who-Believes and the one Who-Trusts. The huntsmen had given him a name in their own tongue, one that meant Storied-One, the learner and teller of stories, and this title seemed to carry weight among these people.

The young hunter and his apprentices, three children who would replace the elders once their age finally bowed their backs and hung their spears, were the ones that spent the most time with their guests, and thus they were the ones that did their best to teach the Daumer language and learn the speech of the outsiders. The huntsman had a title in the tribe, Tahr'Thua Meistari, though of this matter he did not speak and he insisted that Who-Believes call him by his chosen name, Oberon. Oberon had learned quickly, and while his speech was still clumsy, he was adept enough to answer this question.

When Who-Believes asked his question, Oberon would look to him and consider it for a time, then say, "You question why we return to our home. Would you not do the same, return to a place that has been your life and all you have known, were you to grow used to it? Our tribes hunt, and we hunt from the mists. Where else could we find what we need to live as we do?" Settling his shoulders, he would sigh and speak quickly to his apprentices in his own tongue, sending them towards a thinning band of mist that the tribe had elected to ignore, as the bridge would close before any true forging could be accomplished and they were still living on their bounty. "But this is a lie of pride, though my elders would be displeased to hear me admit it. In truth, it is because of this."

Gesturing at the adolescents, who were in their half-mist form now and standing in the planar bridge, he had his guests watch the children dip and play for a time, the Andlitir practically flying in their romp, and then he called for them to return without taking their physical forms. The children, confused, tried to obey their mentor, but every time they made an attempt, no matter how they struggled, they could not escape the borders of the mist by more than the span of fingertips. "They give us strength, but they are our extent, our horizon. Your world does not let us form as we are now, and the mist carries us back to here when it fades from your world of bounty. Thus, this is our world, and yours is yours, though we need yours to feed our tribes and preserve our people."

Rising to his feet, Oberon would gesture to the children to finally return and they took their physical form, then he told Who-Believes, "But we have duties here as well. Come, we have a ways to travel, for we are called to the opposite edge of the lake we have walked beside these last days. There is something I would show you and your apprentice when we arrive, Storied-One."

And for the next few days that is what the tribe did, and this small tribe passed and was passed by tribes that numbered in numbers far greater than their own. All of them looked in small wonder at the strange traveling companions. Some asked if Who-Believes and his ward were emergency food, many if the mortals had wronged Oberon's tribe in some way, and others mused if these were champions for the contest that all tribes were gathering to participate within.

This third question was mocking, always meant to ridicule the small tribe that had no business in the matters of larger, more important Daumer peoples, and from some of the elders this earned Who-Believes looks laced with venom. Oberon said, "Take not their insults to heart. If this is the extent of their imagination, then we should pity the size of their intellect instead of taking offense at their childish barbs." Not wanting to seem foolish by echoing their critics, this kept the malcontents among the elders from grumbling loudly, and not within earshot of Who-Believes or the huntsmen of the tribe.

Being smaller, Oberon's tribe would move faster than the great tribes with their multiple hundreds, and thus would reach the destination first. A dozen and one great, cavern-like icebergs rose from the earth, each of them hollowed out and leaking thick, unmoving mists. Beside the frozen lake, a place covered in unmoving fog of its own, stood a multi-level structure of ice, grand in its scale and form, like nothing that had yet been created upon the First World. It was a palace, established centuries, if not millennia before mortal minds would master the arts necessary to form such advanced structures, and at its gates sat a great, man-sized raven, denying entry to all who sought it.

All about this valley a great number of tribes had established their camps. The largest tribes kept themselves between the small tribes and the raven, barring entry to their lessers, but beyond that the tribes were scattered haphazardly. Here and there broken fields had been cleared of detritus and loose stone, and there elders watched as teams of young warriors and huntsmen played and competed in various sports and contests.

In one clearing a collection of Frost Widows, curled up and dormant, was arranged beneath a nest of hides with no sides, and Andlitir attempted to collect strips of colored cloth and hide that dangled between them without disturbing any of the spiders. It became clear quickly that the spiders, though terrifying in appearance and territorial, were of no real threat to the mistfolk, who could become insubstantial and were immune to their chilling aura, thus the contest came down to skill rather than courage. Children and adults both competed in this game, with the ones who had collected the most cloth being declared the winner. These are the contests that the children of Oberon's tribe went to play.

In others fields, mock skirmishes were held between the warriors of tribes. Smaller tribes competed for food or trinkets from the others, while the largest ones draw great crowds from all tribes to observe the spectacle. At these contests, much talk was made of who among the teams would be made into champions, who might ascend to challenge for the prize promised by Tahr'Thua. But the greatest spectacle was held only once each day, and it was a duel held at the gates of the palace, under the watchful eye of the Raven. And it was this duel that drew Oberon's attention and desire.

There, in an arena ordained and observed by a god, two contestants faced each other in single combat. They were chosen from among the largest and greatest Daumer tribes, and in this contest both Huntsmen and tribal warriors were free to commit against one another. The battles went to the third wounding, and each of them lasted for nearly half an hour, the spectacle and skill of the warriors involved putting on a display that was as much show as it was dance and a true struggle.

For twelve days these duels happened, and for twelve days Oberon attempted to join and prove himself. The elders of the greater tribes laughed and sent him away, for his tribe was small and had no true influence in Hvittmaudh. They told him to play at the smaller games, for the prize that Tahr'Thua had promised would not go to him, regardless of how it wounded his pride. The young huntsman refused all lesser contests for they were beneath him. And so for twelve days he did naught but wake, warm himself up for that day's duel, and find himself denied.

On the thirteenth and last day, the day that the Raven had ordained would end this festival, the gates to the palace opened, and from the frost and rime that poured from that structure strode the bestial form of the Howler. The twelve victorious champions, each of them from their own tribe, had assembled to compete for their god's amusement, but standing between them and the arena that they had been promised would hold their glory stood Oberon who, clutching a spear formed from the mists of his own body, would not be moved.

The champions and their elders called for him to leave and return to the tribe from which he'd come, and Oberon told them, "I am Oberon, Tahr'Thua Meistari, and I come from all tribes." Where his stubbornness had drawn annoyance before, this claim that he was Meistari to Tahr'Thua would send a ripple of outrage through the assembled great Daumer tribes. When the appealed to Tahr'Thua to punish him for this overreach, Oberon challenged, "Face me, if you would know the truth of it. For I am from a small tribe, and the champions of your great tribes should best me with ease should I speak false. Let each champion prove themselves against me. Should I prove the victor, then the champion who lost did not deserve the praise of their people to begin with."

Such impertinence only made the objections of the tribes even greater, especially now that the worth and honor of their champions had been questioned. The Corpse Eater cawed her amusement at this challenge, and the Howler, hearing her amusement, nodded and whispered that this test, meager though it seemed, would please him. Tahr'Thua did not say who the challenge would be meager for.

One by one, champions took their place in line to face Oberon, arranged by least favored to most, certain that the first champion would put the upstart in his place. The first ran into the arena, and in three blinks of the eye, the first champion was disarmed and slashed three times by spear blade across the left cheek. Each champion that came after was dispatched in similar manner, though they became more skilled and bouts lasted longer than that embarrassing first duel had. Eventually blows were actually traded, and the ninth challenger actually managed to strike close enough to cut Oberon's leathers, though still no blood from the huntsman had soiled the arena.

The last three, staring in wonder at the warrior before them, considered laying down their spears when the Raven's voice reached them, calling for all three to face Tahr'Thua's Meistari at once for the joy of the crowd. Though one balked that it was unfair, the three did not have it in them to disobey their god's command, and so they faced Oberon all at once. Oberon did not so much as flinch as he took his stance, awaiting his opponents' first move.

As superb as his form was with the spear, and as close to ascendant as he was, a battle against three foes was still something beyond a basic duel, especially among the Andlitir, who took their half-mist forms and danced with their spears as they had been trained from birth. Though he was greater than any one of them individually and the diffuse fighting style and sweeping blows sometimes tangled the other warriors among one another, these were three of his peers, and Oberon was forced further and further into a defensive posture just to remain unmarked.

Five minutes passed in that deadly dance, then ten, and twenty. Throughout the arena, even among the elders at one point, the four warriors danced, the three pressing Oberon further back, and the one denying their blades and the hafts of their spears purchase of his body. Then a cut appeared along his chest, one blow having woven through his defenses, and the tenth champion reeled back from three consecutive strikes to the chest, gut and head. Falling to the frozen ground unconscious, the Andlitir was forgotten as quickly as he had been eliminated and the eleventh and twelfth continued their assault. But now the result was certain, and while the twelfth champion managed to mark his foe a second time when the duel became him and Oberon alone, at the thirtieth minute exactly Oberon was the last being to stand within the arena.

The deafening shock of the elders of the greatest tribes was drowned out by the roar of triumph from the lesser tribesmen and tribeless huntsmen that had come to watch once they had heard of the remarkable unknown warrior and his feats. Staggering, exhausted and trailing blood from his wounded chest and leg, Oberon would walk with his head held high and go to kneel at Tahr'Thua's feet, with his head bowed and hands and spear held out before him. The Howler reached down to pluck that weapon from his hands and scattered it to dust and atoms, while the raven's wings spread, and the vapor of platinum that she had collected condensed into a new spear for her champion to wield.

The Daumer were... different after that. Though it would take time to show just how Oberon, the Lord of Winter and Master of the Wild Hunt would change them.

The Isle of Champions
Upon the Isle of Champions, an arch of deep sapphire seemed to just... appear. Surrounded by a chill and leaking mists, this portal lead to Hvittmaudh, though no horrors came through. A young Andlitir with a platinum spear slung over one shoulder walked to the edge of the mists at one point and looked around, then used a burst of ruin magic to carve a rune in the True Tongue promising to be there for the challenge. Then he was gone.

Tahr basically told the other gods that they were being too nice to their creations, and that it was okay, because he was around to make a proper antagonist for them. He also agreed that the Black Peak of Reason would not be attacked by him or his servants, and he made an Utterer for him and Thua.

Thua harvested some platinum, vaporized it and may have set off a volcano or twenty in the process. But this wasn't anything out of the ordinary for the area she was in, so there was no need to worry about AP on land actions as far as that is concerned.

The one Who-Believes was told by a young Wild Huntsman named Oberon about how the Andlitir are trapped within Hvittmaudh, and was brought to a great gathering of the tribes for a celebration and contest.

At the end of that contest, Oberon, despite not being allowed to compete for the first twelve days, proved himself against the champions of the great tribes and is now an anointed hero bearing a weapon forged from the metals harvested by Thua.

The invitation for the challenge has been received, and Oberon is ready to come and prove himself in a different arena... once I have the AP to let him actually move far enough out of the new portal's influence to reach the arena.

Starting AP: 5

Rollover: +4 AP

-3 AP; Minor Combat Artifact - Lasa Aisling: A spear formed of pure platinum to be carried by Oberon that both vastly improves the bearer's ability to channel the magic of Ruin and allows them to call forth slain Wild Huntsmen awaiting rebirth. Dead huntsmen conjured in this way cannot take fully physical form (except in the case of being afflicted by Silver) and disappear within 1 hour or once they are slain and cannot be conjured again. They also do not suffer any consequences or boons for dying, failing or succeeding while conjured in this manner, they remain within their cycle of resurrection regardless of what they or any other being do to them.

This weapon is a symbol and tool of Oberon's office. Should the current bearer be slain or defeated, that tool is returned to the Hvittmaudh to await a new champion to earn it and claim the seat of Oberon.
Domain Progression: War (Glory) 5/10

-2 AP; Raise Hero - Oberon, Lord of Winter: The bearer of Lasa Aisling and the de-facto leader of the Wild Hunt, considered Tahr'Thua's champion, is known as Oberon. The name for this title comes from the first Andlitir to earn the position, Oberon, said to be favored by Winter's Maw, but it does not bestow longevity or immunity from harm, and thus it is a title that is passed from champion to champion. When one Oberon dies, another contest is held to find the most worthy warrior to inherit the title which all tribes and tribeless Wild Huntsmen are allowed to send a representative to, should they desire to compete.

Despite the title being something passed down between (typically) unrelated individuals, there is a continuous legacy between the Oberons. Each Oberon is granted glimpses into the memories of their predecessors, fortifying their skill, their mastery over magic, and connecting them with the last Oberon's tribe in a way that makes them consider the group a step-family.

Tribeless Wild Huntsmen and each Oberon's own tribe are considered Oberon's "Companions," and they are basically considered and treated as the nobles and aristocrats of Daumer society. The last Oberon's tribe is still treated as nobles would be, but they are not given the same respect or influence as the current ruling tribe.
Domain Progression: War (Glory) 7/10

-1 AP; Mundane Concept - Sports (Wargames): Sports are public events where games are played between professional practitioners organized into teams and... look. It's sports. These are contests where competitors demonstrate their physical or mental prowess in order to earn recognition, fame, material goods, etc. Non-professional versions of these games are seen as leisure activities or for children (which parents sometimes support in hopes that their progeny will live out their own dwindling asperations and wishes.)

The Daumer, being focused on battle and having a strongly nomadic tradition, have a large swathe of athletes who specialize in games that simulate war, skirmishes and battles. These war games are meant to be non-lethal, and while killing and opponent isn't expressly forbidden, most Andlitir that do purposefully kill a member of another team are shunned and cast out of all tribes. Even an accidental killer is often banned from ever competing in these games going on into the future.

Sports are, of course, an open concept, and the idea will spread to any society that appreciates athleticism, intellectual contests or just a good spectacle in general. Tahr'Thua is also subtly working to spread it throughout the First World, since glory in the contest is something the god represents and sports are a highly palatable way for that sentiment to spread. Thus, contact with the Daumer is not needed for a society to learn this concept, thus the society of any god that wants this concept can learn without the Teach action.
Domain Progression: War (Glory) 8/10

-2 AP; Create Portal - Hvittmaudh to the Isle of Champions: A stationary and permanent portal upon the Isle of Champions that is located half-way between its eastern shore and its centermost point. This portal takes the form of a crystalline arch, large enough for two beings to pass through it side by side, and from it leaks mist and frosted air that extends for a kilometer in every direction, though the mists and chill are not particularly dense. At night the area is covered in frost and had head-high mist, but at night most of that frost evaporates and the mist fades to resting low on the ground, around shin-height. During the day, this is enough to allow an Andlitir to wander within the perimeter made by the portal without assistance. At night, it is enough for them to take fully physical form just long enough to step fully into the First World without being dragged back to Hvittmaudh, though they still cannot maintain this form for long outside of the portal's influence.

Still, this gives a permanent location bridging the realms. At the moment, the Daumer tribes reserve use for this portal for Oberon and his court.
Domain Progression: War (Glory) 10/10

-1 AP; Alter Land (Hvittmaudh) - The Mistgates/ Ice Palace: While random scattered bridges to the first world can be found within the entire Hvittmaudh, these bridges are mobile and typically temporary things. There is a place where this is not true, and that is the Mistgates. Formed beside a lake that leads to the Wellspring, this repository of permanent bridges to other realms holds thirteen passages between the First World and Hvittmaudh. Each bridge is held stationary and maintained by glacier-sized structures of ice, and each bridge is separated by stadium-sized courtyards. The destination of these bridges fades, fluctuates and changes, as normal, but their location in the Nightmare Realm is kept consistent and allows the Daumer tribes that settle beside them to actually remain stationary.

At the heart of these structures, resting flush against the coast of the Wellspring bridge, is a palace of ice that glows with a soft, azure light. In what would be the throne room of the palace rests the portal to the Isle of Champions. Whichever tribe the current Oberon belongs to resides within the palace, along with any tribeless or outcast Wild Huntsmen, and these are called the Winter Court, which is ruled over by the current Oberon.
Domain Progression: Deception (Mists) 10/10

Total AP expended: -9

Ending AP: 0

Domain Progression:
Deception (Mists) 10/10 (DOMAIN GET!)
War (Glory) 10/10 (DOMAIN GET!)
Destruction (Ruin) 2/10

Tahr'Thua is now a Lesser Deity

moonfly7

2021-09-21, 01:48 PM

The Gloaming

The being from beyond the veil had barely escaped before the large unique had reach it. For a moment it had thought it might lose this new consciousness on the other side before it gained any rewards from the effort. But now it was here, and it HUNGERED.

it waited until just after sunset before spilling out into the first world, it's body formless and weak, shifting with the shadows. It needed to be more....substantial to survive and indeed thrive in this world. So it's eary green tendrils sought out sources of great unique. And soon they found themselves wrapping tighter and tighter around an unaware and seemingly unintelligent behemouth of white stone.

The Gloamer leaped upon this thing, this wellspring of Unique, and tore it's weak will asunder as it burrowed deep inside the Stone adherent without leaving a mark. The world around it flashed sickly green for a moment, vines floated off of the trees and all manner of debries rose from gravity for one small flickering second, then all went still and everything fell back to earth.

And when it did, the Gloamer had a new skin.

It's body was strong and coursing with unique, but it's mind was weak and pliable. This left...Distaste in the Gloamers mouth. It wanted strong unique, a strong body, and a strong mind. The stronger the mind, the more noursihing it would be when it broke to the Gloamers will. But, for now, the Stone adherent would do. The Gloamer let what was left od the primitive beings mind guide it towards it's ilk, the energy it expended to acquire this body and cross over was much for this weak physical manifestation, and now it hungered.

By morning, three adherents would be found, their now grey bodies left sprawled out where they fell, devoid of magic and life.

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

Skeletons and Lizards

It had been months since the others had left them and their now repurposed brass canoe on this abandoned circle of land. He-Who-Searches and She-Who-Raises-Bones had found no signs of life, and so together they elected to leave this place and continue their great work on the small islands off the coast, where they saw more evidence of life.

It was some weeks after their first few landings that they hit gold, in a sense. There was, in a dried out river bed, whole seams of metal's simply waiting to be mined! And there, surveying this, and looking wide eyed and fearful at the coming of these short skeletal beings, was a large, scaled being on two legs.

Raises-Bones in that moment whispered a prayer to her lord that their words be understood, and spoke with a flowing lilt unto the native of this land.

"We mean no harm, friend" she said as the creatures strange language flowed off her tongue. Blessed be Kal and his wisdom and generosity for his loyal servants she thought "We come in peace bearing gifts from the god Kalvrankin from his holy Orchard. We have been blessed with much, good food, beautiful art, and a means to protect ourselves from the threats of this world. He has granted us a secomnd life when we fall, and magics that would astound your mind. He has commanded us to share these things and we do so happily, will you let me share them with you?"

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

Landfall of the 4

Abdita, the place the continent with more life than even Piedwald. The place of the Spire and so many other things. They had heard tales of tall beautiful creatures roaming this land and almost beast like giant insects as well. They had also been warned, the god Ara-huana would not find meddling in his affairs to be the gift that it was, and his people were notoriously dangerous. Still, while they would not seek out danger, if there were those who wished to seek them out they would be here, and if they could not offer the Second story here that was fine, they would simply give them knowledge of metals and true temper, offer healing and knowledge of writing and stories. Well, perhaps only the writing and stories, maybe not a good diea to give more weapons in their violent quest.

While two went to make themselves useful to the Nechustani without upsetting their god, two fearfully made their way to the Venuxi hive, following the tales of death and pain from the Nechustani. But they were members of the Eleven, and they were brave. Their lord asked this of them, and if it took their second story, then it would be a fitting end. But they now felt their lords gift of tongues, and new that they carried magic and weapons beyond most that rested here. They would endure, and they would make these strange insects into friends, or die again while trying.

Brass Woolies, a gift from the deep!

One might think that a thing that destroys boats, eats your livelyhood, and is clearly from the thing your people consider a demonic presence, would be an evil thing. With an Evil name and the desire to eradicate it immediatly. Especially when you have just successfully integrated magical metals into your biology, and this creature eats magical metals and therefore could be a threat to you. And if you did react reasonably and erradicate these pests, no one would blame you. Except for, perhaps, the Circle of Bronze and Bone.

Upon discovering these potentially dangerous and fast growing sea monsters, and upon relizing that their main food source was metal, and that they preferred True Tempered metal, a counsel was called.

"These metal eating monsters are a threat, not just to our boats and sea-based metal structures but also our people, with the recent insurgence of ALchemy, how many of us find ourselves more metalic than ever before? Gold runs in our veins now, alongside bronze and silver. Over 38% and climbing of the members of the Circle could be prey for these things. They must be irradicated and-" She paused "Who-Tames why the Darkening Deep is one of those thingsin your lap?"

"First of all, Temper" The First story Atfal said with a raised finger, the other hand petting the strange creature in her lap "they aren't called "Those things" They're Brass Woolies! And second of all, this is They-Who-Sleep. Because it takes lots of naps, and because I can't figure out if it's male or female." She says with a smile and a pat to the creature, which gurgles softly.

"Tames, those things spit acid. And your infused with Gold and silver, it-it wants to EAT METAl Tames. Put it down, now, so we can take care of it. How-How the DEEP did you even get it on land, they're sea creatures and-wait, why does it have tiny little crawlers?"

"That would be because of alchemy!" she said with a happy smile as she stood, and set Who-Sleeps on the ground for a moment "Since alchemy works on biological creatures to an extent, I worked with it to help Who-Sleeps survive on land. I also made them a tad friendlier! It-it wasn't really hard, it's easier to eat pure metal than hunting a creature with a minor investment of metal in it. And if said creature feeds you metal, it's definitley better to not eat it. Apply some alchemical alterations to it's mind and well-they aren't even a bit of threat! To us. Not a threat to us, When Who-Sleeps is actually up to a fight he can be quite dangerous. "

Tajir rubbed the bridge of her nose while Kalvrankin Laughed inside her head.

"You have to give the girl credit, Tajir, That much work that fast is impressive. And look at the little guy! She named it "Who-Sleeps" Tajir. You can't not love that."

Tajir sighs.
"Alright Tames, alright. I vote that, for now, we don't brutally massacre all of these creatures, and see if perhaps Tames and her new...Biologicaly focused Alchemy and her study of these creatures can make them less of a danger. All in favor?"

Every hand in the circle went up almost instantly, they didn't disagree with Tajir necassarily, but in true circle fashion, just about all of them now greatly desired a Brass Wooly companion.

Tajir sighed.

She paused "Motion passed. Kalvrankin help us."

"I always do, my Temper. Although I fear I won't be coming home. I- your goal to make me a real god may have worked to well. My power has grown my dear, and the first world rejects entities that have gone beyond the strength of Demigods. I-there's so much more I wish to do, much I must say. But that can wait, that can wait. I'll still speak to you, and answer your prayers. Just-Keep the others safe, tell them that I have left, and tell them that I am still with them."

And then the Orchard shook with power and a flash of bronze light, as a massive glowing light ascended into the heavens and dissapeared.

Bless(1 AP) Tongue of Multitudes: When acting in good faith and in the name of Kalvrankin, Followers can speak and understand the languages of others even if they have no knowledge of them or any common language. Change(Rebirth)(6/10)
Teach Concept(1 AP) Animal Husbandry: She-Who-Tames was given divine inspiration to cultivate, grow, and tame wild animals, beggining with the skeletons in the orchard and soon expanding to the Brass Woolies. Change(Rebirth)(7/10)
Create Monstrous Sublife(1 AP) Land Brass Woolies AKA Land Woolies or Brass Crawlers: Brass Woolies altered and changed by Alchemy and breeding to grant them the ability to live, and move, on land. Land Brass Woolies have been bred and altered to be extremely loyal and affectionate to those that care for them, and are excellent animals for work, companionship, and Protection. Brass Crawlers also have the unique ability to retain a portion of the magic from true tempered metals that they eat. Like their oceanic counter parts, these land dwellers can grow as big as their food supply allows, and with access to a near limitless supply of metal from their caretakers it is not uncommon for Brass Crawlers to be the size of a horse, or to be used a such. Change(Rebirth)(8/10)
Create Mythical Subconcept (2 AP) Bio-Alchemy: Bio-Alchemy is a subsect of alchemy specifically tailored to the direct alteration and change of living matter. This branch of Alchemy was largely inspired by the strange creatures located in piedwald, like the continents metal trees, and the regular kind that grows eggs and hatches birds. While built upon the Alchemy used to incorporate True Tempered metal into circle members, Bio-Alchemy is distinctly different, because the metal infusion process requires alchemy almost entirely focused on the inanimate magical metal and maiing it into a liquid, non-toxic state. Whereas Bio-Alchemy would focus on changing the living being so that it could recieve the metal. Change(Rebirth)(10/10) Ascendance achieved!
AP Before Roll over: 3

3+4= 7

7-1-1-1-2=2

Current AP: 2

zzzzzzzz414

2021-09-23, 02:11 AM

The Borametz Grove, North of Sailloch, Piedwald

Gellyr, Werrel and Ailwen drew back slightly in surprise, and glanced at each other and their other two companions, a dark look passing between them. They hadn't really expected much of a warm welcome from the wood-eaters, but it seemed that these people were...quite seriously misinformed. If the sligs truly thought they were some form of monster, was allowing themselves to be met by this "cadre" (some kind of...group of warriors, maybe?) such a good idea?

Gellyr shrugged. Still, it was this or abandon the place and go back home.

"We...accept these terms." Werrel ventured cautiously. "We do not know what you have been told of us, and we don't know anything about 'consuming creation', but we truly would like peace with you, if it is possible. I don't think we'll need much help with predators, but we will teach you as much as we are able; and we hope to learn more of you, in turn."

And the dryads did indeed keep to their promise - mostly. They retreated outside the village (leaving the animals alone, despite Ailwen's protests) and they were more than happy to tell the visiting cadre about the isle of Sailloch and about the ways of OGAM. But they held back on divulging the secrets of Earthspeak - for there was an unspoken belief among the group that such knowledge would not be used by the Sligs for communion with the earth, but further dominion over it.

--

The Peak of Reason, Northern Abdita

Wyn and their companions remained mostly silent throughout the rest of the meeting. Their expressions darkened as it continued, their vigil broken by occasional bouts of whispering. It was known that there existed in the world a Calling, a silent song of death that lured the weak-willed into the dark and the depths - but it had never occurred to them that this was anything but the way of the world, inseparable from the wind and the sunlight. That it was in truth the act of a god was...concerning. And though the mist-horrors had never attacked any of the Five Forests, they knew the stories, carried on roots from the far land of Piedwald. The frost-god's speech was...strange. The natural way of life was to grow, to flourish, to expand and form connections; to choke that with blood and ice was to destroy meaning, not create it. Still, neither Wyn nor their companions spoke up again; the frost-god stood against them, to be sure, but he had not insulted OGAM as the parrot-god had.

As for the parrot-god himself...Wyn was just a Speaker; they could not hope to know the deepest thoughts of OGAM. They knew that this "Calling" stood against the flourishing of life, and should be opposed. But so too did the parrot-god and the frost-god, though in a different way. None, Wyn felt, would be permitted to bring destruction to OGAM's children, or to the broader bounty of life upon this world. Whatever that took, and whatever alliances that required.

Some time after the meeting had concluded, when they had finally reached the base of the great black mountain once again, the group stopped, and spread out, searching for a suitably wide, flat area to carry out what they'd discussed on the way down, forming into a circle once they'd found a broad, level rock. They had made a promise to uphold the black peak as a bastion of safety, communion and life; but it was the way of OGAM to speak through more than words. The Great Worm very, very seldom answered calls from the surface. But it had been quite some time since he had appeared; and, they hoped, this was important enough.

Their hopes proved true; and, as the group finished the massive and ancient ritual, sending magic down deep into the earth, they were answered with a massive rumbling, as the earth all around them, and far, far beyond them, began to change.

The Dirt-Eater himself did not appear - he never did - but the evidence of his work was plain to see. The earth and rock heaved up all around the base of the great mountain; massive slabs of stone shifted, cracked and buckled, shifting and turning, as wellsprings of water and mud surged out of great cracks in the earth, all of it rolling and crashing like waves on the sea. When the earth finally settled again, it was greatly changed; where there once was just open desert and hills, there was now a ring of great rock formations shaped almost like half-domes all around it, with dozens of oases, rivers and strips of rich soil scattered among them. An ideal place for the settling of life; and an ideal natural defense against outside invasion.

--

City of Tollan, Anahuac, Cartisia

Viernan turned to xer companions, eyes wide. Had they, too...?

The expressions on their faces told xer all xe needed to know. They must have just experienced it too, then: that stirring in those old memories, that old self, hearkening back to a life they could scarcely imagine now. Every Dryad retained the memories of their time as an Ent; but scarcely did they ever resurface, lost in vagueness and obscurity as they were buried by newer experiences. Until now, that was.

Like a sapling from loose soil they had suddenly re-emerged, carrying the memory and understanding they could not as the Quetzpal-in's sounds reached them. Though Ents could not hear, they knew the earth; and Viernan knew down to xer core what each of those sounds came from, what they meant: and xe had understood the stranger's message as clearly as if it had been said in Dryadic.

Viernan scratched behind one of xer horns, trying to determine what it was the stranger had even used. It was certainly not Dryadic. Nor did it carry the resonance of the True Language, though it seemed to be some sort of magic; certainly there was no other way the one before them could have made such sounds of the earth! It wasn't quite the tongue of the ents, the language of wood and root that ran beneath the soil; yet, somehow, xe knew in her core that the ents would know it. But how could that be? It was known to all that the rooted ones spoke only the True Language. It was...something else. Something new - maybe it was to the True Language spoken in the tongue of wood and root what Dryadic was to the True Language spoken in the tongue of air and water? How they could have come up with such a thing without, to xer knowledge, even meeting an ent, was...well, just another wonder of this city, xe supposed.

But, in any case, Viernan had no clue how to respond. Xer companions seemed similarly baffled. They had all understood, xe could tell, but they had no way to respond in kind. They certainly didn't know how to produce sounds like that...did they? Well, maybe not quite like that, but...

Viernan nodded at the figure, and withdrew, calling xer companions together for a quick huddle of whispers. When they broke again, a different figure cantered forward: a thin, nervous-looking dryad, with a bottom half and antlers surprisingly reminiscent of a mazatl. Taking a deep, shaky breath, recalling deep memories that were hers and yet not-hers, she held out a staff that seemed to have been grown - not, carved, grown - from a large branch; and suddenly, the quiet wind-rustling of the trees and plants in the Tranquil Waters fell silent, leaving only the quiet burbling of the brook. And then, slowly, it came alive again, in bits and pieces and layers. The rustling murmur of leaves in a gentle zephyr breeze. The gentle thf of a budding flower opening its petals for the first time. The shifting of soil as a clump of mushrooms forced its way into the sun. A thousand near-imperceptible sounds issued from the plants all around them as they bent to the magic of Earthspeak, woven together into a great tapestry - one that would mean nothing to most, but to one who knew the language of the earth (and was able to look past much roughness and mistakes, pulled as it was from old memory and delivered through imperfect physical means), might translate as something like this:

[We greet you as the passing wind greets the great oak. I am called Mauryln, and my companions are Viernan, Moireann, Cerrhid, and Riannon. We have come from the great wood in the east as seeds upon the wind, to know the world and its peoples. We are humbled by this place; we would learn from you, and give you our knowledge and friendship in turn.]

With that, the garden settled once again, and Maurlyn dropped to her knees, panting heavily with the exhaustion of so much Earthspeaking use.

--

Due West of Fearnmag, Plains of Central Abdita

"Right, right, yes, no knife, peace, friends!" Aithne babbled, holding her hands up to show that they were empty. That...had been a peaceful bark, right? She hoped so.

The mysterious fox-being didn't seem to be preparing to kill them, at least, which was good! But she also clearly didn't speak dryadic (duh), which was bad, and left them in a bit of an awkward spot. But they had to try, didn't they? So, after a few moments of staring at each other, Aithne attempted to introduce herself; gesturing at herself and saying "Aithne", and gesturing back to the stranger in turn.

Whether she receieved a response or not, Aithne then continued with a more complex attempt at communication, gesturing to her four companions, pointing east, pantomiming some walking motions, and making several energetic gestures between the stranger and her group.

"We're going east; do you want to join us?" was what she was trying to say. Though it seemed to Aithne's companions that her enthusiasm was somewhat outstripping her ability.

--

The Orchard of Kalvrankin, Piedwald

Gaoimhe's grin, somehow, got even wider as he nodded along through Who-Teaches' explanation. "Oh it is! It's very, very exciting! Because you see, talking to the plants is really only half of it! The really interesting things start to happen when you start asking the plants for things."

Gaoimhe was as eager (though perhaps not quite as capable - dryads were used to learning things quite slowly) a student as the smiths and Temperers of the circle had ever known - and even his companions' curiosity began to overcome their discomfort with the stange and artificial-seeming orchards. And so, after some time, a new sort of forging began to emerge.

They were of course used to smelting and forging metal with furnace and fire; but earthspeak allowed for the shaping of plants, and so, via careful application, the growing of metal into the desired shape, forming metal objects like the simple Earthspoken wooden slings and shortbows the dryads commonly used. These items were, perhaps, not as perfectly formed as their smelted counterparts, but unlike those objects, these were alive, Spoken out of (semi) living metal, capable of taking on more complex Names and acting as channels for Earthspeaking magic and True Temper alike - the first undead weapons and armor.

AP total: 5

Rollover: 5+4 = 9

Alter Land: The Ring of Life (0AP, Paid through Artifact use)

A ring of oases and closely-grouped rock formations surrounding the base of the Black Peak of Reason. The sandstone rock formations are massive (averaging 80-90 feet high) and slightly half-dome shaped with shallow "hollows", all of which face towards the mountain itself, thus presenting a shady hollow ideal for a village or settlement from the inside of the ring, and a sheer rock face to the outside of the ring. The gaps between the rock formations are such that small groups of travellers would have no problem finding safe passage, while large armies would have significant trouble moving through.

The ring is also scattered with many oases, rivers and strips of rich, fertile soil ideal for plants or crops.

(Note to self: think up a better name)

canjowolf

2021-09-23, 05:33 PM

The slig had come from across the sea in a shell of dead wood carved with copper blades. The people of the garden looked across the waves and longed to to reach the lands beyond, just barely visible when the sun burned off the ocean fog.

The people of the gardens preferred living wood to dead, and were not adept with metal tools. Instead, they dreamed up a living city of saltmarsh reeds and algae straining the sea water to feed it to Phihid, who in turn took in sunlight more efficiently and directed the growth of the lesser plants. The gardeners traveled with the Phihid on these boats and began growing their gardens on the surrounding islands. Each island of great size even recieved a seed from the Dream Tree, though with such a small demesne, who among them could grow beyond the long Shadow of the Garden?

AP: 2 held + 4 gained = 6 total
-1: Teach Mundane Complex: Shipbuilding (1 AP) (War - Cunning)
5 AP remains

Feathersnow

2021-09-23, 09:56 PM

Slingid

The Borametz Grove

The Cadre sent to the Dryads were deeply disturbed. The tree monsters were clearly likewise uncomfortable. After several fruitless shift exchanges of different cadres, it became obvious. The Sligs were willing, for the foreseeable future, to respect the territorial boundaries of the Ents and dryads. The Dryads, for their part, were willing to do the same for the Sligs. The Sligs had nothing the people of OGAM wanted, the Dryads had nothing they were willing to share with the Sligs.

As a show of good faith, the Principle Queen of Thiplisk and her Council of Te'ivosks agreed to set aside a large parcel of undeveloped lands to serve as an embassy of sorts, should the creatures of OGAM ever need to contact civilization directly. It was vainly hoped by the dimmer workers that seeing how much better things were outside the borders of their untended wilds, the dryads would come to question their nonsensical values.

In The Land Of Sauropods

Borrowing a creation of limited use in Piedwald from the Preparing Knife, hunting came to be a major activity in the Colonies to the West.

The bow, being a semi-divine gift, seemed at first over hyped to the pastoralists and farmers of Piedwald. Fables aside, few large predators lived there, and they were deterred by the slogs if they dared approach Slig settlements.

But the Vociraptors followed a different logic, and were not afraid of Slig nor slog.

So weapons were needed. To use a bow properly, a Slig needed special stirrups to hold him in place in his prosthetic legs. It was quickly discovered that special quadruped rigs allowed better aiming and superior draw. And, once the cadres all had armed specialists, a little competition was in order. The cadres started target shooting.

And, once all that effort was in place, it was a shame not to profit from it. Not to hunt the great monsters. The Sligs were sane, after all! But the lesser beasts soon began to fall to Slig arrows.

And so, it was from that that the ill-fated first encounter with the Rekexi was born.

The three-horn was acting odd. It was separated from its group. It was rooting around were three-horns rarely had reasons to look. Maybe it was sick. But, the Sligs, reasoned, nothing that wouldn't get cooked out. It died in a hail of arrows.

Just off the shore, a Rekexi screamed as the creature it was bound to died in agony!

Ilse of Champions

Tloc had built the boat out of wood plated with bronze he True Tempered himself. He carried little but a harpoon and a net, his legs stowed carefully behind a bulkhead, with a specialized snipers nest to spear fish as the animation magic rowed the boat to the strange call. A carefully controlled pit of incense showed the way in its smoke.

These advances were already being put into triremes back on Piedwald, and it was inevitable that the dubiously loyal Ytrel Te'ivosk would allow them to fall into the hands of Slin-Thirthu. But Tloc was the first.

And he had made it here, further than any Slig in recorded history.

The Black Peaks of Reason
At first, the confession of the Mist God filled Slingid with rage. But then he considered his words. Eventually, he spoke...

I am not happy with what Tahr'Thua has done, but... I fear he is right. I have been too protective and too jealous of my creations. I wished for them to be strong, but, perhaps, I have made them dependent. Only I and the demiurge of Gravity have been so jealous we even keep the souls of our fallen, rather than let them move on even in death.

So, I say I will stop. I will quit this world, and only interfere after this point with those of my children who would seek to join me after living at least one full lifetime here. When the Mantle of She-Who-Is-Ever-A-Part passes to the Queen of Thiplisk, I will take the first Slig with me to a new land, and never perch on the First World again.

Later
She was not young when she was beached in this forest, and she had lived centuries since. Slig Queens don't speak their names, but, alone of her ilk, she was truly without one. She was born an Ursliga, without words or need for them. But she would die the firsf Kzairra of the Combine, founder of a city of thousands, and mother of her people.

And, she knew, it would not be long. Her gills were always dry, her tentacles wilted, and it was harder each day to push up to feed herself...

Then, as on that first day, a Parrot came, and she knew it was time.

The world shifted, and her palace was replaced with a dark wood, so like the one her children had long since tamed or leveled.

The Parrot spoke Come away with Me,
My daughter. Through the Dark Forest, to the Promised Land

And, for the first time in centuries she swam. Through, the air, through the trees, to what lay beyond...

Mundane Concept= archery (artifact use)
The use of muscle-powered tension to propel specialized projectiles as weapons

Create Land: The Dark Forest and the Golden City (2 AP)
This region in The Wending represents a final test and a final reward for Sligs that die of natural causes. If they pass through the Dark Forest, using all the skill and will their life taught them, they may ascend to a new life in The Golden City. Currently, this has no inhabitants, but it will be great when it does.

Darkness (Forest) 7/10

Create Mythic sublife: The Prepared (sublife of Sligs) 3 AP
In their basic form, these beings resemble spectral Ursliga flying through the air. However, they can sculpt and animate physical bodies, usually in the form of Slig workers. They also have semi-intelligent outrider bodies that have similar abilities but are dependent on the core for orders and often resemble Slogs or Slog-like fish. These bodies are said to be the spirits of the best Slogs, but are really extensions of the Prepared.

Forest(Darkness) 10/10
Ascend!

bc56

2021-09-23, 10:54 PM

Aithne, Aithne, Aithne.
It must mean something. The creature keeps indicating itself. Aithne. Is that its name?
With a flourish of her wrist, Ember calls forth a flickering tongue of flame in her hand and lets it die down to a cool, dim spark. Then she points to herself with the other hand. She does it again.
Then, wiggling, that way? The group. The group wiggles that way. Walks, maybe?
Ember barks again. These creatures, no, people might know where others of her kind are. She points to herself again and then wiggles her fingers similarly, gesturing all around. Then she points at herself, then at the group. Hopefully that gets across the idea that she wants to come along.
Since the two are in agreement about that, they will continue their travels together.

Ember knows no language, but is naturally curious and a quick learner; it's not long before she can speak at least broken Dryadic. She explains her quest as best as she can to the dryads.
"I will find other my kind. I am only my kind I find." (She still needs more time to learn.)

ezekielraiden

2021-09-25, 09:47 AM

The coils of time and memory bind together in the mind of a deity stepping forth for the first time from his people. Arkhos saw...many things, some recent, some old, some to come after. To the divine, time may flow like the river, or like the ocean, or like things undreamed in the thoughts of mortals.

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

Arkhos burned. The admission of guilt. So brazen, so cavalier. And to mock the gifts he had given, the care he had taken for his children--to say that death for their charges was deserved? Unthinkable. Unconscionable. Unacceptable. A price must be paid for what was taken.

Tahr'thua. The wicked cold. The howl of despair. Yes, of course such a thing could never understand real glory, glory that lasts, glory that continues to shine on in the hearts of a thousand generations to come. What could the cold know of the Sun's glorious light? Tied up in the mere petty interests of survival. Unable even to conceive that there was something more than survival value.

He had his target. But even now, he could feel the same pull as his siblings in divinity. The world had not changed. They had changed, were yet changing still. So too would restitution need to change, justice for the fallen. He would need to close the loop first, but there were things that could be yet done, in time. He had but to wait for the time to strike--for kairos beneath Kairos. But chance only favors the prepared mind...or perhaps the prepared heart.

Thus did he reach deep into the hearts of each of his creations, and grant them the strength to weather all but the most dire of life's struggles. Into the Quetzpalin, he poured his iron will, his determination to see the Oath fulfilled. Though, as before, he gave no sign, said no word--for it was up to them to learn and understand on their own. He knew they would find out. Children falling from high trees, to suffer only knicks and bruises. Hunters clawed near to pieces, painting the forest red with blood, yet surviving to finish the hunt and carry no scars beneath the claimed pelt. Explorers, pushing ever forward to the west, barely inconvenienced by a broken leg or an injury to chest or stomach.

Warriors, though they knew not yet this role, ready to respond to the chill of despair with unflinching resolve.

Yet...Arkhos knew that it was because they stood alone, unguarded, that his children had fallen so easily before the spawn of Tahr'Thua. There might come a time of need, where his children would wisely call on the aid of others. They should not be punished for doing so, nor fear their trusted allies fall to blows they themselves would shrug off. So the Woven Oath did an oath weave: that true friends, heart-friends, sisters by blood shared, should stand almost as tall, almost as resolute as their Quetzpal'in comrades.

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

City of Tollan, Anahuac, Cartisia

Viernan turned to xer companions, eyes wide. Had they, too...?

The expressions on their faces told xer all xe needed to know. They must have just experienced it too, then: that stirring in those old memories, that old self, hearkening back to a life they could scarcely imagine now. Every Dryad retained the memories of their time as an Ent; but scarcely did they ever resurface, lost in vagueness and obscurity as they were buried by newer experiences. Until now, that was.

Like a sapling from loose soil they had suddenly re-emerged, carrying the memory and understanding they could not as the Quetzpal-in's sounds reached them. Though Ents could not hear, they knew the earth; and Viernan knew down to xer core what each of those sounds came from, what they meant: and xe had understood the stranger's message as clearly as if it had been said in Dryadic.

Viernan scratched behind one of xer horns, trying to determine what it was the stranger had even used. It was certainly not Dryadic. Nor did it carry the resonance of the True Language, though it seemed to be some sort of magic; certainly there was no other way the one before them could have made such sounds of the earth! It wasn't quite the tongue of the ents, the language of wood and root that ran beneath the soil; yet, somehow, xe knew in her core that the ents would know it. But how could that be? It was known to all that the rooted ones spoke only the True Language. It was...something else. Something new - maybe it was to the True Language spoken in the tongue of wood and root what Dryadic was to the True Language spoken in the tongue of air and water? How they could have come up with such a thing without, to xer knowledge, even meeting an ent, was...well, just another wonder of this city, xe supposed.

But, in any case, Viernan had no clue how to respond. Xer companions seemed similarly baffled. They had all understood, xe could tell, but they had no way to respond in kind. They certainly didn't know how to produce sounds like that...did they? Well, maybe not quite like that, but...

Viernan nodded at the figure, and withdrew, calling xer companions together for a quick huddle of whispers. When they broke again, a different figure cantered forward: a thin, nervous-looking dryad, with a bottom half and antlers surprisingly reminiscent of a mazatl. Taking a deep, shaky breath, recalling deep memories that were hers and yet not-hers, she held out a staff that seemed to have been grown - not, carved, grown - from a large branch; and suddenly, the quiet wind-rustling of the trees and plants in the Tranquil Waters fell silent, leaving only the quiet burbling of the brook. And then, slowly, it came alive again, in bits and pieces and layers. The rustling murmur of leaves in a gentle zephyr breeze. The gentle thf of a budding flower opening its petals for the first time. The shifting of soil as a clump of mushrooms forced its way into the sun. A thousand near-imperceptible sounds issued from the plants all around them as they bent to the magic of Earthspeak, woven together into a great tapestry - one that would mean nothing to most, but to one who knew the language of the earth (and was able to look past much roughness and mistakes, pulled as it was from old memory and delivered through imperfect physical means), might translate as something like this:

[We greet you as the passing wind greets the great oak. I am called Mauryln, and my companions are Viernan, Moireann, Cerrhid, and Riannon. We have come from the great wood in the east as seeds upon the wind, to know the world and its peoples. We are humbled by this place; we would learn from you, and give you our knowledge and friendship in turn.]

With that, the garden settled once again, and Maurlyn dropped to her knees, panting heavily with the exhaustion of so much Earthspeaking use.
Tonalli filled with joy, and some amount of pride, that her message was understood, and even reciprocated. But...clearly it cost this child of the Forest greatly to speak so. Though she did not understand why their speech and hers did not cost the same, she did not wish to exhaust the envoys before they had even begun to connect. So she did as she could to speak how she knew they could hear, and then how she did not know if they could, to piece together a little bit of understanding, without asking so much of them. After some time of getting across the basics, she tried something a little more advanced, on the hunch that these "seeds upon the wind" were chosen for their mission of discovery as much as the Quetzpal'in had been chosen for receiving it.

"I welcome you, seeds-upon-the-wind. I am called Tonalli, and I speak first among the devoted of Arkhos, the Dawnbringer." She gestured to the simple disk that hung from her neck, washed in a vivid blue color, with a thin, circular ring of gold the only embellishment on its surface. "I know the tongue of my people is yet new-laid to you, but I see your exhaustion, and would not ask of you to pour out your vessels without need. We will build to it, with time."

She smiled, unable to contain herself. It had worked. They had used the gifts of Arkhos, and laid the founding-stone of peace. "This is a great day for both our peoples! Our Father prepared us for your coming, that we could understand each other, and avert the terrible cost of angering the children of the Forest." There would be yet more to say, but it had to be done in learned stages. The Pyramid of the Sun had not been built in a day--nor was its peak made ready before the foundation.

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

Again the Arches produced something, but it was--for the first time--not an animal. Children passing by them (or, often, through them--a taboo act, and thus a common dare) came away with strange, bright-blue fruits in hand. The flesh within the outer rind, of similar but darker blue hue, was firm and juicy, with a mild sweet-tart taste, and inside, a single large, hard-shelled seed. Children and adults alike tested their curiosity by planting these seeds, and with shocking speed, the plants sprouted and grew.

In just a few short years, these trees would become ubiquitous around Tollan, and the Temoanih came to call them Trees-of-Life, for in every way, they provided some helpful thing for living, if nurtured and well-cared-for. Only later, when the horticulturists began their more careful, practiced work, was the true aptness of the name revealed. These trees, more than just supporting the lives of those who planted them, also supported the life of any tree grafted onto them. Even some non-tree plants found purchase in their branches, creating endless possibilities of flower-gardens and topiary sculpture.

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

Skeletons and Lizards

It had been months since the others had left them and their now repurposed brass canoe on this abandoned circle of land. He-Who-Searches and She-Who-Raises-Bones had found no signs of life, and so together they elected to leave this place and continue their great work on the small islands off the coast, where they saw more evidence of life.

It was some weeks after their first few landings that they hit gold, in a sense. There was, in a dried out river bed, whole seams of metal's simply waiting to be mined! And there, surveying this, and looking wide eyed and fearful at the coming of these short skeletal beings, was a large, scaled being on two legs.

Raises-Bones in that moment whispered a prayer to her lord that their words be understood, and spoke with a flowing lilt unto the native of this land.

"We mean no harm, friend" she said as the creatures strange language flowed off her tongue. Blessed be Kal and his wisdom and generosity for his loyal servants she thought "We come in peace bearing gifts from the god Kalvrankin from his holy Orchard. We have been blessed with much, good food, beautiful art, and a means to protect ourselves from the threats of this world. He has granted us a secomnd life when we fall, and magics that would astound your mind. He has commanded us to share these things and we do so happily, will you let me share them with you?"
The river-sifter looked at these strange beings and did not know what to do. She could see they were clearly the bones of the dead, somehow moving and even speaking. Yet they seemed to carry no weapons, since as skeletons, it was rather hard for them to conceal much. But she remembered what the priests had said. The children of Arkhos awaited the coming of another's children, and that, even with the Nightmare in the east, this duty was not rescinded. So she observed, ready to flee at first, until they, too, had taken stances that reflected hesitation. Perhaps, despite all the evidence to the contrary, the dead might not differ so from the living.

Imagine, then, her shock when these strange beings spoke as though native to Tollan! She dropped her sifting-vessel in surprise, which spilled some of its sand and metal-grains. "Are--are you--" She tried to collect herself, imitating the gestures of the priests, interlacing her fingers and forming a little triangle with her thumbs, centered over her heart. "I am Totli. If you have come from Elsewhere in peace, then you must meet the Voice of Arkhos and the others, in Tollan."

She looked down at the spilled sand and winced. It might take a while to get it all back into the container again. It was almost enough to distract her from the...unnerving nature of these beings. "I must beg your pardons, um, travellers, I have need of these sands to bring back into the city. If you, um, wish to walk with me, I can take you to the Pyramid of the Sun, where the priests are." She hesitated, then added, "It might, ah, might be wise to wait for me. We were attacked once, you see, some time ago, and it has made some among us...concerned about outsiders."

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

Tonalli thanked Arkhos, what seemed the thousandth time, for the steadfast companion she had found in Huitzilin, the captain of the city guard. He did not speak often, but he listened as well as anyone she had met, and that was often more her need. Over her years of service to Arkhos, she had seen many things and done many things, and she hoped she had done their Father proud. When the doubts rose, as doubts are wont to do, she turned to Huitzilin's moss-green face, and found solace--and, in time, love. Theirs was no whirlwind romance, no passionate inferno. No, they found love amid the sturdy stones of long-held friendship, and built from it a furnace to smelt through their troubles.

Thus it was to no surprise that, in time, the chosen Voice of Arkhos became heavy with egg, and her egg joined the clutch in the prestigious egg-chamber adjacent to the Pyramid of the Sun. A plain thing, the egg was not marked with color or symbolism, but even just gazing upon it, Tonalli felt the Gaze of Another alongside her own. What the Dawnbringer wished of her child, she did not know, but she hoped they, and she, would prove ready for it.

On the fateful day of the child's hatching, another fateful event. A shooting star, but this star did not fall beyond the horizon. Indeed, it crashed to earth just beyond the egg-chamber, starting a small fire in the forest outside. Even as Tonalli named and anointed her own child Yolotona, he whose heart shines like the sun, the workers were out with buckets and tools, hoping to prevent an outright forest fire with the impact. Yolotona stood, as is common for Quetzpal'in children, first looking to his mother, and then to the commotion outside.

The boy climbed down the stone steps of the incubating pool, as the rays of the noonday sun poured in through the skylight above. He walked with purpose, such clarity and focus that even Tonalli could not bring herself to speak against it, however much her maternal instincts railed against it. She did, however, follow the boy, as he went out into the forest, toward the fire. Eventually, he led his mother to the center of the now-doused blaze, where the strange, egg-like lump of metal lay, shattered and strewn. But in the largest fragment of that shattered shell, there was a weapon. It was not a knife. No Quetzpal'in could mistake this blade for a knife, with is stylized, leaflike curves. The boy did not touch the blade, but looked to his mother, as his father ran over to join them, having seen to the last of the bucket brigade.

"Alli? My love, what...what is it?"

"A gift from above."

"From Arkhos?" He looked shaken.

"I don't--" she began, before the boy shook his head.

Huitzilin bent forward, one hand on his son's shoulder, and lifted the blade by its hilt. He instantly felt two things. One, a cry for vengeance, for restitution, for righting what has been made wrong. And two....that the sword was not his to carry, only his to safekeep, until its true wielder was ready.

Yolotona looked deeply into his father's eyes, his ocean-blue eyes set against the deep green of his still-wet scales. My son...duty weighs on you, in the very hour of your birth. I will give you all I can. I pray it is enough.

Though this blade might not be from Arkhos, nor be for him, Huitzilin could see in it already the arts of war, the ways that the metals now coming to them could be shaped and honed. And in this, he did find a gift of Arkhos, though he only came to realize it later. For although the blade was of Arah'huana, through that blade, Arkhos ensured his children discovered the making of blades--and the making of armors to resist it.

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

Not all was so dire for the Quetzpal'in in those days. The priesthood continued to study the Codex Perpetuus, and in particular, a young priest began re-examining the meaning of some of the passages regarding the Solar Disk, its origin and nature. And when he did, he came to realize that it was possible for the Temoanih to replicate it, in lesser form, and in other forms besides. Far from being waste, the clean, fine sand collected by the sand-sifters could be used to glorify Arkhos and beautify the world both, if air, earth, and fire were brought together in right proportions.

Others, hearing of the priest's new art, began experiments of their own, learning to smooth and cast and blow the molten sand, learning the bleeding-sharp edges it made when broken, learning to grant it all colors of the rainbow. But the priest was not happy with such baubles, beautiful and praiseworthy though they were. He studied more carefully, and came to realize how this glass could do more than just beautify. It truly could reveal, and reflect, as the Solar Disk did. Mirrors and, in time, primitive lenses came from the Glassworks of Tollan, as did beautifully-colored glass windows and beads and all sorts of lovely articles to trade--and just in time for partners from other lands, across the sea, to find value in such baubles.

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

Arkhos descended upon the Pyramid of the Sun, and many of the Quetzpal'in gathered to hear his words, including Yolotona.

"Heed me, my children. Though my power ever shall remain with you, the time has come that I step forth from this world, and watch it from afar. But I shall not be distant to you, for I now shall honor the oath I swore, and close the circle of life."

The assembled folk waited with bated breath. Their Father was leaving? They had known his presence was more limited than before, more diffuse, but for him to be gone...what did that mean?

"I go now, my children, to the place where spirits dwell, after they have shed their bodies. I shall prepare a place for all my children, past and future, where they may go and find both solace and self-improvement. But I shall also work another wonder. Look upon this, your Pyramid, the proof of your labors and your independence, for I asked not that you make it, yet here it stands. Deep within the underbelly of this mountain you have made by your own hands, I shall bind this world to the world hereafter, that all who would seek my counsel may yet have it, and all who die without closure may yet find it."

"But, afore I do, I name one among you my Chosen, my Appointed, who shall work my will in my stead, now that I cannot walk the paths of this world without harming it and you." The golden circle flowed and twisted until it took the form of the Speaker of Light, descending on the assembled masses until it approached a single soul.

The boy looked up, his grey-green scales glimmering in the golden light. "You call me, Father?"

"Yes, I do. From this day forth, though you are Yolotona, in my eyes and upon my lips, you shall be Seth, for I have Appointed you in my stead."

The boy blinked, and frowned. "I am not ready, great Father."

"Then you shall make yourself ready, and you shall find aid and guidance--from me and from many others."

The boy nodded, and the Speaker of Light placed his glowing hands on the boy's shoulders. "Remember, Seth: what is built endures, and what is loved endures. You must now build yourself, so that what you love may endure."

The light of understanding entered Yolotona's eyes. "I understand."

"Then go, as I shall go. And I shall see you again, in the place where no shadows fall."

Thus in one day did Arkhos both name his Chosen, and lay down the afterlife of the Quetzpal'in, Tranquility and Triumph, shaped from the Wending by the power of the Living Map. And Seth, chosen-of-Arkhos, descended into the bowels of the Pyramid to find a great and shining gate, a perfect circle of light, across which spanned a bridge of what seemed darkness made solid, connecting the realm of the Living to the realm of the Dead. To the Quetzpal'in, it was called the Door of Day and Night.

Thus did the Epic of Seth begin.

Current AP: 4

Bless: The Unyielding Heart (free, discounted by Solar Disk)
All Quetzpal'in are significantly more durable than should be physically possible. A fall from ten meters up is unlikely to cause more than bruises. They can lose more than half their blood volume and survive. Even multiple stab wounds are unlikely to do more than slow them down--and can usually be healed. It is possible for a lesser version of this blessing to be granted to a friend or ally, by choosing to become blood-brother or blood-sister with them, but this gift may only be given once, and must be given freely. The non-Quetzpal'in recipient becomes noticeably hardier, but never quite to the level that the Quetzpal'in giver is. This lesser, gifted version can potentially save someone's life if administered after injury rather than before, but the recipient still requires competent medical treatment to fully heal.

Create Monstrous Life: Tree-of-Life (free, discounted by the Arches)
Tree with many useful applications for all of its parts (edible things, oils, bark as fiber or straps, good wood, fragrant flowers for all of spring/summer), which is also preternaturally good for grafting. Any plant portion grafted to such a tree will grow well wherever Tree-of-Life grows, as though it were on its native soil. The Tree-of-Life grows best in tropical and temperate rainforest conditions, but can grow in most places that do not see heavy snowfall. Even if it normally would require pollination, grafts of fruit-bearing trees onto Trees-of-Life can produce edible fruit anyway. A single orchard can thus be designed such that it yields fresh fruit for most of the year, different fruits coming in season at different times. Its natural fruit is a distinctive, vivid blue, and contains an internal hard-shelled seed that is edible when roasted. The fruit tastes somewhere between peaches and blackberries.

Raise Hero (2 AP, Travel (Adventure)): Yolotona, he whose heart shines like the sun, is raised up as a Hero. His mission is not yet known, and he must improve his skills before he is ready to begin his journeys. But the mantle is upon him, even in the hour of his birth.

Teach Mundane Concept: Smithing (free birthday AP)

Create Mundane Concept: Glassmaking (free, discounted by the Codex)
Pretty much exactly what it says on the tin! The Quetzpal'in now decorate their temples with stained glass in addition to stonework decorations, and make both useful and beautiful things out of glass--vessels, beads, cups, dishes, and--most prized of all--things that can bend, reflect, and focus light, for they honor Arkhos' gift of the Sun to the world.

Alter Land: Tranquility and Triumph (free, discounted by the Living Map)
The Wending now has a place for Arkhos' flock to gather. It's a reasonably cool place to hang out. Evenly split between a place to relax and recover from the problems of one's mortal life, and a place to address one's deficiencies and grow as a person. It is not meant as a permanent resting-place, but for the time being it is the place people go to, and where Arkhos is hanging out now that he can't be on the First World.

Portal: Door of Day and Night. [Sun (Revelation) 10/10, acquired]
Connects T&T with a location underneath the Pyramid of the Sun. With its creation, Arkhos ascends, for now dwelling just on the other side of the portal. Ordinary mortals can request audiences and such, but in general, Arkhos encourages both the living and the dead to make peace with what has happened and move on.

Arkhos has acquired his fifth domain, Sun (Revelation), and is thus now a Lesser Deity. He can no longer walk on the First World except through avatars, which he does not have yet.
Remaining AP: 0

Domains acquired/in progress:
Magic (Rites) 10/10
War (Tactics) 10/10
Sun (Revelation) 10/10
Travel (Adventure) 2/10

canjowolf

2021-09-25, 12:55 PM

Shadow Hill, The Garden

For some time now a city of Phihid had awaited their promised destiny, short lives passing by as the years rolled on. Finally, their wait was over, and their purpose could be realized. The gardeners came to Shadow's Hill, and donned the admixture of living and unliving. Pipes and plates of wrought copper, twisting vine, curling root, and living flower, shaped to fit as clothing. The Phihid of this armor had been grown and trained to protect the wear, by blocking the poisons of the jungle, or the cold of the Dark Land, or the scorching sun on the rolling waves, or the forceful flight of thrown stones as the case might be. Not as good at protecting against the metal blades of the Sligid as a suit of forged metal plates, they were adaptable families, who would grow in utility as the power of their host grew, and who could change their specialty as the seasons turned, and Phihid came and went.

6 AP Held
-4 AP: Create Mythical Concept: Living Armor - an armor of living Phihid and other materials focused on elemental protections. (Nature: Parasitism - Gain Domain)
Ascend from Demigod

KragBrightscale

2021-09-25, 03:31 PM

Aggressive Neighbors - Military Advancements

Egg thieves, the very notion of it appalled the Rekexi who heard about them. Scaly cowards who avoided a good fight in favor of preying on the young and vulnerable. Such a lack of honor in ways determined the Velociraptors to forever remain an enemy of the Empire.

Brave warriors gathered near the jungle soon after the word was spread. What better way to earn recognition and achieve victories than waging war against these “egg thieves”.

The rulers of the reef were relieved to find an external outlet for all the pent up aggression. Perhaps this generation could be spared the bloodshed of civil war.

Like an angry swarm, a few hundred rekexi warriors broke up into teams of 10 and charged into the jungle to hunt down the egg thieves. Each warrior was armed with stone warhammers and they scuttled between the trees in search of their quarry.

It was, for the most part a fruitless endeavor as the beasts avoided direct confrontation, and the rekexi, better suited to the water soon tired from all their chasing. The only noteworthy discovery was a cleared area of the jungle where only stumps remained. It stood out like a sore thumb, and deserved proper exploration but that would come later.

Weary, and frustrated at the egg-thieves’ cowardliness and speed that made it hard to catch them, the warriors eventually turned around to head back. About halfway to the shore several teams came to a sudden halt. Beady eyes glared at them from behind the bushes as the egg-thieves finally revealed themselves.

At first the Rekexi warriors were excited at finally having a chance to strike down their quarry. The enthusiasm slowly dropped as more of the beasts kept emerging from the surrounding vegetation until they outnumbered the warriors more than 2 to 1.

It seemed the egg-thieves were not as afraid of things their own size as they were of the giant Sauropods. They just needed to gather a group larger than their prey before they considered a fight. With a screech they pounced on the Rekexi.

Fighting on land was not the same as fighting under water. Things happened much faster, and the rekexi could not make use of their powerful tails to propel themselves backwards, making it hard to dodge. Although some of the beasts had been successfully knocked back or sent tumbling by the warriors’ hammers, the situation quickly descended into a chaotic brawl.

While the rekexi were used to fighting each other, they had never faced any other enemies and that lack of experience was quickly showing. Rekexi usually targeted each other’s heads or abdomens with their hammers, to crush their enemies exoskeletons, but the beasts seemed to focus their attacks on the shrimpfolk’s vulnerable limbs, incapacitating a number of warriors before the Rekexi could adapt.

The battle was over almost as quick as it had begun, and the beasts dragged the fallen warriors and severed limbs off into the bushes. The battle had been overwhelmingly in the favor of the beasts, and the few Rekexi survivors were appalled at their disastrous losses against what should have been an easy opponent.

The large packs of egg thieves wiped out three teams of warriors, and if they hadn’t been satisfied with the number of prey, the fourth team to be attacked would have not had any survivors.

Gathering up all the survivors and regrouping with the other teams, the Rekexi retreated back into the sea. Limbs could be regenerated over a few molts, but the wound to the Empire’s pride cut deep. It was clear that the empire’s military tactics had stagnated and become obsolete, much to the despair of the army’s generals.

Having failed to bring change and avoid stagnation, many military leaders were stripped of their rank and executed. The bloody ceremony was hosted by the Catalytic Council, who petitioned the Lord of the Tide to usher in change. The Divine Conch was brought out and it’s clear tone was heard beneath the waves once more. Even the mysterious giant pearl was brought out.

The change from life to death was one of the largest changes mortals would ever experience, and it was therefore one of the most important ways the Catalytic Council used to request the Divine Crab to bestow its power of change. The Cult and the Council quickly came to an agreement, where sacrifices would first be brought to the Council to be killed, then their bodies offered to the deep.

A thrum of power indicated the sacrifice had been accepted. The elders in charge of the pearl gasped in shock as the pearl turned transparent and revealing a moving imagine inside it. Legions of Shrimpfolk soldiers could be seen within the pearl, armed not with hammers but with long pointed objects and wide protective sea shells. Fighting and marching together in perfectly matched unison, the image captured the attention of all who watched it until the pearl faded back to its previous appearance.

Arriving at the scene while riding in her giant clam, the rising star of the empire revealed some more good news. A number of large clams had been washed into a lagoon by a sudden shift in the ocean currents, all containing strangely shaped pearls. While none of those pearls were useful as they were, someone had managed to grind one to give it an edge, creating a tool useful for cutting kelp and fish alike.

The attention of the empire was split in two as the military focused of training the troops using sticks and large shells to form a phalanx, while the production teams experimented with the clams to create numerous objects out of the pearly material.

Pearlite as it became called was an unusual material to the Rekexi. Being both strong and heavy like rock, yet not as brittle. There was a slight flexibility to it that surprised the craftsmen allowing for the creation of long thin objects without fear of breaking.

Soon the rekexi military was ready to get its revenge for the humiliating defeat at the hands of mere beasts.

One hundred of the finest warriors assembled on the beach, each armed with exquisite Pearlite spears and round clam shields. The centurion commander relayed their orders as the soldiers shifted positions and assumed various formations. Nearby were several members of the Cult and the Council who could wield strange eldritch powers. It was time to strike back.

Terrestrial Sea Wraiths - Trihorns - Unexpected Attack

As the military was focused on the threat of the terrestrial beasts, the Sea Wraiths had been working on another project. Expanding their range of operations to the land.

Using their giant octopi, they managed to capture several of the trihorns that came to soak in the shallows. These large amphibious beasts were generally docile unless their eggs or young were threatened, when they would charge and impale egg thieves with their prominent central horn.

Nicknamed Sea Cows, the milk produced by these rotund beasts was thicker and slightly salty compared to that produced by regular cows. Grazing on both shrubs on the shore and kelp in the sea, they quickly became important to Rekexi cuisine as their flavorful fatty meat and rich salty milk grew in popularity.

Controlling a herd of Trihorns was relatively easy for the Sea Wraiths. The alphas and other leaders of the herd were possessed and bonded while the others just followed their lead.

At the request of the military, the Sea Wraiths contributed a few Trihorns and their controllers to assist in hunting down the egg thieves. Using their size and horns to crush and clear small bushes and trees to clear a path for the warriors.

The operation was going smoothly until one of their possessed beasts was attacked by surprise. What seemed to be sharpened sticks or miniature spears rained down on the Trihorn piercing into its fatty hide. While most of the arrows didn’t cause much more than pain, the Rekexi possessing felt the pain directly and it panicked.

Controlling the beasts to charge towards where the projectiles seemed to come from, the Rekexi was determined to return the pain manifold. Crashing through trees and trampling bushes the large Trihorn was slowly turning into a pincushion.

The last thing the rekexi saw through the eyes of the Tricorn were odd creatures holding weird objects. They looked a little like an octopus, but had large arms and were perched on even stranger moving sticks. With a sudden twang, a sharp stick pierced though the Tricorn’s eye killing it instantly.

Pain worse than anything it had experienced before overwhelmed the Rekexi’s senses as it’s spirit was violently severed from the body it possessed. For a brief moment the spirit drifted lost as the Wending started pulling on it like all other spirits of the deceased. Before the spirit departed the world completely, it was tugged sharply in another direction.

The Rekexi’s body, which was spasming out of control, sucked its drifting spirit back. Suddenly back in its body the rekexi let out a scream of bubbles shocking the attendants that had been assigned to care for the bodies of the Sea Wraiths while they were controlling their creature partners.

The military was soon informed of another dangerous enemy that roamed the jungle: octopus faced apes.

AP: 4 + 4 (rollover)

Bless (Exchange for Change) -1 AP
Kraxichit is pleased when change is made in its name, and encourages individuals who contribute to the fight against stagnation by bestowing magical abilities on them. These are not limited to the rekexi, but generally the abilities awarded to those not completely devoted to the Lord of the Tides are minor ones. (Abilities vary but in general should be flavored to suit Kraxichit’s domains (and eldritch in nature) and help in furthering its goal of bringing change.)
Change (Mutation) 1/10

Create Mundane Concept (Phalanx) -0 AP (artifact use: pearl of wisdom)
Highly disciplined troops, walls of shields and deadly spears. Fighting as an organized cohesive unit rather than individuals, this represents a major advancement in the Krillix empire’s military.
(No portfolio gain due to free)

Bless (Pearlite + Pearlite clams) -0 AP (artifact use: Conch of Change)
Mutated clams whose insides conform and adapt to objects placed in them. Once they’ve adapted, their void can be filled with a variety of mineral and organic matter to create a Pearlite object with the same shape as a void. Pearlite is the aquatic alternative to metal (though it is in actuality not a metal) The qualities of the resulting material depends on the “ingredients” used/fed to the clam.
no portfolio gain due to free

Create Monstrous Race (Trihorns / Sea Cows) -1 AP
Large grazing beasts that look like a mutated blend of cows, rhinos, hippos, and manatees. Amphibious, they spend as much time grazing on shrubs on land as they do eating kelp and aquatic plants. Usually docile, but they will charge and impale any who threaten their young or eggs with their large central horn. (Horn configuration: think cow + unicorn)
Disaster (Sea Monsters) 9/10

Teach mundane concept (animal husbandry) -1 AP
A natural development from raising fish, clams and other aquatic life, keeping herds of Trihorns is the next step forward for the empire’s food production industry.
Change (Fermentation) 1/10

AP remaining: 8 -1 -1 -1 = 5

-Rekexi warriors lose fight against pack of velociraptors.
-Rekexi develop Phalanxes and switch to using spears and shields.
-Pearlite, the aquatic alternative to metal is introduced (special clams).
-Trihorns (aka sea cows) are introduced and domesticated by rekexi Sea Wraiths
-Octopus faced apes (sligs) declared as potential dangerous enemies

MrAbdiel

2021-09-25, 06:22 PM

Brumation

Moving undetectably through the Wending, Arah-Huana enters a period of restrained activity. His convulsions of creative power leave his divine corpus drained; but not damaged. As he settles into his strange rest, with the warmth of foreign divinities warping the realm in small portions for the eternal enshrinement of their people, he permits himself to feel a little satisfaction.

All things considered... it's going quite well.

Meanwhile, the undulating quasi-sapient susurrus known as the Midwife of Blades feeds itself in the Perdition Sluice from which it is eternally replenished. The child of her design is smaller, this time; a dagger, wickedly curved, made of the same extraplanar ur-metal that the other Fangs of Arah-Huana are made of. This one emerges from its production with a dull blue glimmer to its edge. This is not a feature, but a flaw - or so thinks the Midwife, who understands little but follows her directions with absolute precision; and in the act of lashing that glimmer away with a tongue of her own coiled soulish power, she believes she is hiding something successfully from the old snake... But he knows.

Shaken free from the godsteel, the glimmer arks off into the stream of souls, and is delivered by their flow into the void around the First World, where they settle in the night. Their true purpose is unrevealed, but their rudimentary purpose becomes a quick boon to sailors and wanderers. Too mild to be seen in the light of Kairos' greater revelation, these sparks - these stars - are landmarks in the sky for skilled navigators, and a source of no small superstition in others.

Create Artifact (Minor Combat) - 2 AP, discounted from Midwife of Blades. 4/10 Darkness (Ambush)

Ashur, The Dividing Star, the Second Fang of Arah-Huana

Small and wickedly curved, this karambit might easily be mistaken for a weapon of less stellar potency. Its true features remain undiscovered; but for now, it benefits from the other blessings on the Fangs of Arah-Huana.

Bless - 0 AP, discounted from Perdition Sluice.

Stars, the Nomad's Lights

The night sky is, over the course of two weeks, slowly populated by a host of glittering blue sparks the world will come to know as stars. Their purposes are manifold. They inspire art, and joy in nocturnal viewers. They fill stargazers with a sense of the otherworldly greatness for the realms beyond their own. Their predictable, year-long cycles of minor changes permit skilled observers to know the time of year, and their direction in relation to the first world for the purposes of navigation. But their greatest purpose - the one that will cause the most tumult - is presently concealed, so that no god may feel compelled to oppose their manufacture.

Metaphysically speaking, the stars are actually weakpoints in the 'space' around the wending that correspond to places in the void - the 'space' around the first world. The stars themselves are surging knots of soul energy, forever being fed and bled by the Perdition Sluice. A mortal explorer shooting through the void would find that individual stars disappear as he approaches their location in the void - as one draws proximately close to them in the real world, they become, bizarrely, too far away to see through the veil of realms. Thus, stars cannot be visited or touched from the void side; though enterprising astronomers will discover with confusion that, for example, from Voicury, their are stars that overlay the First World proper, which are too close to be seen by the dwellers there.

moonfly7

2021-09-26, 09:36 AM

Metal In the Forge

It had been long since Kalvrankin first felt the push of metal falling from the heavens, and first felt the hammer strike his flesh and mold it with fire into something new. He had been alone then, in the dark, unseen by any. He had felt it happen above ground, two gods, molding metal, and unknowingly molding him. Their creations, their creativity with his divinly given material, his cast off flesh, was all that kept him from succumbing to the boredom of his entrapment.

Again later he felt Rend and Right mold and push a soul that had strayed from him, into something better. Stronger, harder. ANd he kenw once again they had improved what he had given to the world.

And now, after having been distracted and put off for so long, he had finally come to meet them. He had been visiting his people in the Gloam, a smile on his metal jaw, and had gone for a pleasant walk when he felt the familiar push of their changing, and heard the clang of hammers. Wandering into the Forge of Hearts was, for most, an accident. But for a god such an action was anything but.

"Ah, twin smiths!" he cried with a jovial smile "We finally meet!"

A Helping (Skeletal) Hand

The river-sifter looked at these strange beings and did not know what to do. She could see they were clearly the bones of the dead, somehow moving and even speaking. Yet they seemed to carry no weapons, since as skeletons, it was rather hard for them to conceal much. But she remembered what the priests had said. The children of Arkhos awaited the coming of another's children, and that, even with the Nightmare in the east, this duty was not rescinded. So she observed, ready to flee at first, until they, too, had taken stances that reflected hesitation. Perhaps, despite all the evidence to the contrary, the dead might not differ so from the living.

Imagine, then, her shock when these strange beings spoke as though native to Tollan! She dropped her sifting-vessel in surprise, which spilled some of its sand and metal-grains. "Are--are you--" She tried to collect herself, imitating the gestures of the priests, interlacing her fingers and forming a little triangle with her thumbs, centered over her heart. "I am Totli. If you have come from Elsewhere in peace, then you must meet the Voice of Arkhos and the others, in Tollan."

She looked down at the spilled sand and winced. It might take a while to get it all back into the container again. It was almost enough to distract her from the...unnerving nature of these beings. "I must beg your pardons, um, travellers, I have need of these sands to bring back into the city. If you, um, wish to walk with me, I can take you to the Pyramid of the Sun, where the priests are." She hesitated, then added, "It might, ah, might be wise to wait for me. We were attacked once, you see, some time ago, and it has made some among us...concerned about outsiders."

"We do come in peace" Who-Raises said with a smile "And in friendship. We have sailed long these many months to reach this place, and walked across much empty land as well in the last few weeks. We can easily wait a little more. But come, let us help you gather your sand!"
And so saying, She-Who-Raises-Bone pulled her Necromancers tool of office from her back, a stylized Bronze shovel, edge trimmed in "decorative" silver that glowed slightly. And she set to work helping the Quet'zpatlin.

Shaking his head at his partners exuberance, Who-Searches produced a sift and a spade from his wide workers apron, and shifted his own tool of office as a Master Temper of the circle, a sledgehammer of duel ends, one bronze, one silver, onto the sandy beach of the river. It took only a moment of hiw own kneeling for who searches to realize what was in the sand.

"Oh, there's metal in this dust." he turned to the native of this land who they now worked beside "I assume then, that you can work and smelt it? Clever indeed, turning dust into ingots. Impressive ingenuity."

Kinro

2021-09-26, 11:03 AM

While the sauropods were glad and excited about these new, small thinking beings that had stepped onto their shore, they were also concerned. They had been completely unknown, gone unnoticed until one went right up to the-sauropod-who-had-first-met-a-different-thinking-being. Even worse, he had tried taking her over. What if he had succeeded? What if it intentions had been malicious and his capacities equal to it? No, this would not do. This land was their land, created for them by Valnas themselves. This was the one place where sauropods should feel safe. And so, as some prepared for the meeting with the new being they had encountered, others worked on something new, new kinds of magic that would allow them to see without seeing, to be where they weren't.

While developing and using their new powers, the sauropod thought mages were surprised to find that, already, other thinking minds were present on their lands, ones that didn't share a form with that of the one that the-sauropod-who-had-first-met-a-different-thinking-being had met. And so, a delegation was sent to one of those groups, a tribe leader, a thought mage and one other, to find what these other people wanted with this land and its people.

Rollover X 2
3 + 8 = 11

Create Mythic Subconcept (Projection)

By projecting their thoughts away from them, a thought mage is able to in places away from them. The more powerful the mage and the more energy expended, the further they can place themselves. And this outside seeing can move fast, much faster than any being possibly could. However, while seeing away they cannot also see where they are.

11 - 2 = 9

Create Mythic Subconcept (Though-sense)

By making themselves extra sensitive to the thoughts of others, a though-mage is able to detect the presence of outside minds, to count them and to know their location and their power. The more powerful the mind, the easier they are to detect. Sauropods and thought mages are easiest, though other thinking beings are not far behind.

9 - 2 = 7

canjowolf

2021-09-27, 10:05 PM

The Phihid were adaptive creatures, intelligent and short lived, they reached for the future through their offspring. With the arrival of seafaring, the future was wide open. New climates to explore and exploit. New peoples with whom to meet and trade, if the sligs were anything to judge by. New crops to grow in the new lands. The Reaching Isles, stretching off towards the other hospitable continents, were much less savage than the jungles of Garden. This lack of competition and the soils of the islands led to the growth of large fields of spices and herbs of all descriptions. Even the smelly ones that the slig seemed to like to burn. As each island had a slightly different climate, different plants were dominant on different ones. Sweet spices, bitter spices, hot spices, herbs to kill pain, herbs to improve alertness, herbs to enter the Dream. The phihid of each island adapted to their homelands as well. Scaring sea birds. Splitting salt and water. Resisting the temptation to cast their seed into the ocean, that they might go into the water, to live there, die there, and transform.

And as they grew and adapted to the islands, so too did they grow and adapt to seafaring, growing light nets to catch the breeze. To contract and twist the sail like muscle. To build roots which knew when to bend to the power of the mighty wind, and when to exploit its roar. With the speed of sail, the gardeners and the phihid traveled along the coasts, leaving net-tables with offering of herbs and spices, and empty tables, hungry and waiting. Those who placed offerings on the empty net tables recieved further visits. Those tables which remained empty were left as a sign, their lonely, hungry story shared with other mariners. To mark their coming, the gardeners built bonfires on the coasts when they set their tables, and burned the herbs that the sligs so loved.

In this way, the bright, flowery sails could soon be seen on any coast with eyes to see.

2 held + 5 gained = 7
-1 Mundane Concept - Sailing (War - Cunning)
-1 Mundane Concept - Commerce (Trade - Enabling)
-1 Mundane Concept - Agriculture (Trade - Enabling)
-1 Alter Land: The Reaching Island plantations (Trade - Enabling)

ezekielraiden

2021-10-01, 02:04 AM

A Helping (Skeletal) Hand

"We do come in peace" Who-Raises said with a smile "And in friendship. We have sailed long these many months to reach this place, and walked across much empty land as well in the last few weeks. We can easily wait a little more. But come, let us help you gather your sand!"
And so saying, She-Who-Raises-Bone pulled her Necromancers tool of office from her back, a stylized Bronze shovel, edge trimmed in "decorative" silver that glowed slightly. And she set to work helping the Quet'zpatlin.

Shaking his head at his partners exuberance, Who-Searches produced a sift and a spade from his wide workers apron, and shifted his own tool of office as a Master Temper of the circle, a sledgehammer of duel ends, one bronze, one silver, onto the sandy beach of the river. It took only a moment of hiw own kneeling for who searches to realize what was in the sand.

"Oh, there's metal in this dust." he turned to the native of this land who they now worked beside "I assume then, that you can work and smelt it? Clever indeed, turning dust into ingots. Impressive ingenuity."
Totli was unsure exactly what to make of these skeletons, but they were quite friendly. Their "smiles" were more than a little unnerving, but they freely offered their aid. Their tools were also quite useful. She made a mental note that, if the family could spare enough, she would have to ask about getting tools like these of her own. Nothing so decorated, of course.

Turning to Who-Searches, she said, "Oh, I do not know the art myself, but my sister, Ilhuitl, has learned of it. She makes smaller, beautiful things, with metal, leather, and glass. Look here, this was a hatching-day gift she made for me." Totli brought the final third of her tail, to hold steady before the skeleton visitors. A fine mazatl-leather band, decorated with golden wires holding glass beads in several colors, arranged very roughly like a rainbow. "My sister loves the many colors of the glass, and how the pure light of Kairos divides into such beautiful hues. But come, you have made swift work of collecting the sand, and now I can take you to the city and the Pyramid, where you will find the Voice."

This dry river was not too far beyond the edge of the city, where the few buildings of wood began to mingle with sturdy constructions of stone. Soon, the dirt path gave way to paving stones, and the lines of a place built to purpose. The streets were filled with greenery, both gardens tended by the residents and public spaces. Many Quetzpal'in showed concern at the appearance of these skeletal guests, but Totli was known to them, having walked this path many times--so the citizens did little more than stare.

From nearly any intersection, the peak of the Pyramid of the Sun could be seen, slowly growing larger. "Have you ever seen its like?" Totli asked, trying for some friendly conversation. "We Quetzpal'in have only just begun to travel to other islands, seeking new knowledge and new lands, but I doubt there is in all the world a sight quite like the mountain we built to honor our Father, the Dawnbringer."

The Hero's Grasp

Seth, the child named champion by his god, grew swiftly from the day Arkhos ordained him. Rare was the turning of the moon wherein he did not visit the Door of Day and Night, passing alive into the hereafter. Always, he listened to the teachings of Arkhos, but also he listened to those who had taken the longer road to reach Tranquility and Triumph. Like his mother, he had the boldness of spirit to act; but like his father, he had the sharp ear and careful tongue to listen.

Near the coming of his Day of Rising, as he prepared for the ritual climb that symbolized the gift of enlightenment granted for their ascent, he lingered among those who rested in Tranquility, hearing their stories. As he did, minutes drew into hours, and the time of his lesson with his deity passed.

Arkhos, as the Speaker of Light, came forth from the place where his spirit dwelt in that realm, seeking the young man. "Seth, why have you tarried here? Have you not come to learn?"

Though Tranquility and Triumph were less gloomy than much of the Wending, they were still less well-lit than the sunny shores of Anahuac. Under such dim lights, the mossy green of Seth's scales looked almost black, and only barely reflected back the glow of the lizard-shaped light. "I have come to learn, my Lord, but I have seen there is much to learn here, as well as at Your side."

"Tell me of these things you have learned."

Seth said his goodbyes to the spirits he had been conversing with, who pulled away, giving the boy space. Turning back to Arkhos, he said, "I have learned that death, though it comes for all that live, does not come the same. Some live full, and in death are content. Others..." His face darkened. "Others have their spark cruelly snuffed out, by chance or by choice, and do not rise, not for lack of desire, but for lack of opportunity."

The lizard-shaped light nodded. "This is correct. There are many who die, yet merit life."

"This should not be." There was a strange finality in the boy's voice. Not a claim needing proof; a bedrock certainty, as sure as the sun shines.

"Then what shall you do about it?"

Seth paused for a long time, and both Arkhos and the spirits in that place waited. They did not breathe, but if they did, bated their breath would have been, spirit and divinity alike. Finally, Seth said, "I will listen. And I will speak. And I will fight. Not for me. For them."

"Then go, and take the weapon your father has held in trust for you these years. You are almost ready to begin. The day of your Rising shall also be the first day of your Journey. And with your blade in hand, you will right the wrongs, and see justice done."

Zelphas

2021-10-01, 09:08 PM

In Deep

It had taken longer than expected to put everything in place, but now all was ready. Even the tunnel above would eventually fall into the depths, helped along by a horde of small things who lived only to rise and fall again. Now, it was time to reach out, and begin bringing things in.

First, reconnecting with the First World. The portal there was at the bottom of the Beckoning Deep, a mobile spot of faint light that traveled slowly back and forth along the length of the great abyss. With this connection, the air and water stilled once more, lulled back to calm by the Call. At the other end, it is a static hole at the very top of Deep, pouring water in a ribbon down to the bottom. For now, the water is a heavy geyser, a massive swell; the oceans of the First World are vast, but a hole has opened at their bottom, and it is beginning to pull in everything it can.

Next, a questing connection is made to a Plane that already has many connections itself. Manifesting as a small, innocuous cave mouth upon an island in the Wellspring, the opening leads to a twisting tunnel that opens upon Deep roughly half-way down the great funnel. There is no way up from there; the only routes are back and down, and once one has chosen to go down, their is no more up.

For now, that will be enough. More work is needed.

1 AP + 5 AP = 6 AP

Create Monsters (Rockwurms) -1 AP: Looking like Landeaters in extreme miniature, Rockwurms are native to Deep and spend most of their life burrowing through the rocky walls of the cylinder, subsisting on the minerals found therein. These creatures are the only ones (so far) who can break the rules of Deep, moving up or down with equal impunity. Once a Rockwurm reaches maturity, it tunnels to the nearest surface, sprouts wings, and flies up, searching for the most precarious perch it can find. It digs its ring of teeth into the perch and transmutes instantly to stone, growing much heavier as a result. Either the perch breaks or the Rockwurm's stone teeth do, sending it plummeting downwards, where it shatters--releasing 3-12 more larval Rockwurms to begin tunneling once again. Humanoids are generally more precarious than stone. (Domain Progression: Decay (Patience) 2/10)

Create Portal (Deep to First World) -2 AP: The portal is as described above; at the bottom of the Beckoning Deep and the top of Deep, respectively. On both sides, the portal is currently about fifty feet in diameter. It takes in everything it touches for the moment. (Domain Progression: Decay (Patience) 4/10)

Curse (Drain at the Bottom of the World) -0 AP (Pit of Hunger)): The Portal between the First World and Deep is currently at the bottom of super-compressed water and is fifty feet in diameter; water is flowing out of it, and fast. It might not be immediately noticeable to the mortals, but the gods (especially Kraxichit) may be more aware of the implications.

Create Bridge (Deep to the Wellspring): An unassuming cave mouth on an island in the Wellspring leads to Deep through a twisty tunnel comprising both worlds. The tunnel slopes slightly but steadily downwards, and some of Deep's power is present here; it is harder to walk up out of the tunnel than down into it, but not impossible to do so. (Domain Progression: Decay (Patience) 6/10)

6 AP - 5 AP = 1 AP Remaining

ezekielraiden

2021-10-02, 05:33 AM

With Seth attending to his final preparations before his Journey, Arkhos remained among the dead of the Wending, dwelling on what had sent them there. Their pain, their regrets. Far from the intent that went into this place--both his own and that of the plane's creator--he did not come to terms with the events that had come before his ascension. Indeed, they only intensified, with his inability to directly access the First World making the irritation more like a droning sound, inaccessible but never steady enough to become inured to.

Direct action was not available...but perhaps indirect would do.

First, to deal with the preternatural mist. If Tahr'Thua should mock him for the dependencies of his creations, whyever should he not do the same in kind? Thus did he reach out his hand, and invest with resplendent vigor, warmth and light, the very stuff of the First itself. Even the ice and snow of the First World would no longer be friend to that frigid place. No longer would the First World be merely dragged by predatory mists into a howling cage of death. No, these so-called "predators"--who fed only upon those so graciously fed to them by their master--would learn well the price of such theft, when the land itself challenged the very cold upon which they depend.

Second, the matter of preparation. The Codex continued to serve its function well, teaching and guiding, but more was needed now. His children had mastered the use of glass, and now needed to look further and farther, to see higher and deeper than they had before. Again he sent forth his power, and created a wonder like unto glass, but of divine light: a pane, in size and shape ever-changing to fit where it was needed, ever seeking to be where its perspective was needed, through which one would see not the world as it was, but the world as it could be. He sent forth his power, and the Lambent Lamina began to do its work.

And for the Temoanih, the first things seen through it were an ideal of structure, of order. But not a structure of wood or stone or any physical thing. A structure of people, ideas, and skill. Many and varied were the skills they had learned, skills of making and mending, farming and fighting, tending and training. By the guidance of the shepherd to the stars in the dark, they learned to collect their people in Guilds: the Stoneworkers, the Glassmakers, the Metalsmiths, the Beastmasters, the Leaftenders, and more besides.

Meanwhile, the curious among them began to delve deep into the Codex for the meaning of the strange new lights in the nighttime sky. For so long, the night had been a clear and empty black, altered only by the passing of the two-colored moon. Though answers as to the meaning of these strange lights, these "stars," proved elusive, answers as to what purpose they could be used for were more readily available. From the difference between these fixed stars and the motions of Kairos and the moon, they learned the precision clockwork of the world--and marvelled at the intricacy of the design, seeing how each part fit into every other. From this, the first truly precise calendar was born.

Bless (free, reduced by Solar Disk): Humus Vitae
The stuff of the First World--the remnants of the Titanic forebears--carries still the spark of their essence, now quickened by Arkhos' blessing. This is no magic power that can be exploited, merely an omnipresent energy. However, when any part of the First World, even its ice and snow, is taken elsewhere, such as via the Predatory Mists, that energy of life and light lingers, and begins leaking out around it--making parts of Hvittmaudh (or any other plane that exchanges material with the First World) more First-World-like. Places of natural ice and snow obviously change Hvittmaudh the least, but even they may ameliorate the bitter chill and spread light and life into dead places.

Create GUA of Advanced Concept (4 AP, reduced by Loom of Light): the Lambent Lamina [Travel (Adventure) 6/10]
A traveling vision-window. Through it, individuals see the potential world--and often ways to bring that potential about. Or, perhaps, they may see opportunities they have missed, or distant lands yet unexplored. Though the Lamina is primarily a tool of teaching, it is at heart a tool of inspiration, prompting mortals to seek out new things.

Advanced Concept (1 AP, discounted by Lambent Lamina): Guilds [Nobility (Virtue) 1/10]
The Temoanih Tonameyoh have learned to organize themselves into groups based on common skills and focuses, and through these groups, pass on the wisdom and skill of one generation to build up the next, and to seek out the most talented individuals--regardless of species or origin--to receive these teachings. Knowledge belongs to all, the guilds are merely a structure to ensure that that knowledge survives to enrich the future.

Mundane Concept (free, discounted by Codex): Calendar
Exactly what it says on the tin.

Other artifacts going unused this week.

In-progress domains:
Travel (Adventure) 6/10
Nobility (Virtue) 1/10

canjowolf

2021-10-02, 09:29 AM

Hvittmaudh, The Fields of Patience

Long had there been Phihid in the cold and barren world of Hvittmaudh, but it was a harsh place and the Phihid had been relegated to basic survival, able to do little more than meditate in the sun, burrow root through stone and and ice, and endure the harsh climate in waxy stupor. Yet now there was a new infusion of life and light. Of warmth and energy. With this small boost, parts of the Hvittmaudh bloomed into black fields of Phihid and their servitor plants. The Hvittmaudh was still a cold, dark realm, unlike the hot steamy jungles of Garden, and the Phihid who survived there were patient and ruthless. There was not the energy to fight a constant war of evolution, so the Phihid relied on large communities across the field, watching for intruders and sharing resources. Ostracizing the foolish and the disruptive, cutting them off from the support networks of their neighbors and leaving them to wither alone.

The Gardeners came to call these places the Fields of Patience, as to run or fight in these places would lead to death by poison. When the Phihid noticed movement in their fields, or were crushed or harmed or eaten, they would release soporific spores to pull animalistic life into a dream-filled slumber from which they would not awaken. The dream priests of the fields might enter the dreams of such beings to talk to them or extract news and stories of the world, or perhaps to bargain away information or the treasures of the field. Beings who moved slowly and were careful not to step on or otherwise interfere with the Phihid could move through the fields relatively safely, only having to deal with the residual effects of the poison blooms gently luring them to sleep.

Too cold for rot, when creatures died in the field the Phihid burrow into the corpses to extract nutrients and seek out treasures to lure more prey. Weapons, warm clothes, tools for making fire, the illusion of shelter from the wind. These would be spared and slowly pushed to the surface. As creatures came to take advantage of these treasures, the Phihid would take them too, until the aristocracy of the Phihid came to inhabit small hillocks in the black fields, their power base built on literal piles of corpses.

3 held
-1 Alter Land - Change a portion of the Hvittmaudh to a black field of grasses and flowers and Phihid, known in Gardener myth as the Fields of Patience

Feathersnow

2021-10-04, 05:12 AM

SLINGID
THE COMING OF PONTIFEX

The Combine was devastated by the realization their god had left them to their own devices.

They screamed into the void, and prayed, and sacrificed, but, for generations, the Grand Sawyer was silent.

And the Sligs thrived anyway. Their colonies grew, the relations between Slin-Thirthu and The Combine normalized, and the expatriate hive in the consecrated land in Abdita acted as brokers to lands no Slig walker had ever stalked.

In the land of the Sauropods, fighting was common, but both Rekexi and Slig had a treaty to ensure neither side was enslaved or extirpated. This was based on the Slig calendar. Every Seventeen years, all territorial claims were reverted and all slaves were freed.

This was a lifetime to a Rekexi and only a little time to a Slig, so in time, Sligs decided they would not return to their Queen when their bonds were loosed, better to be honored elders among the conquerors then the least among the free.

By the same token, most freed Rekexi had no frame of reference for their ancestral people, and would rather remain among the calm and meritocratic Sligs.

This intermixing only led to more interminable warfare, as neither side could even agree which borders would be reverted because no settlement was pure.

And, as the first of the Prepared joined their god in the Golden City, Slingid knew he had done well.

So, in his wisdom, he decided complete withdrawal wasn't truly necessary, now his people had proven they could survive without him.

So, one day, when the spokesworkers of The Te'ivosks and the Duma met together before the Kzairra, She-Who-Is-Ever-A-Part, Slingid sent his plenupotentiary, a being like unto a great vulture

Greetings to the Queens and Workers of the Combine, chosen people of Slingid! I am sent on his behalf. You have prospered through this test he has set you, and you are to be rewarded!

Know I am a tool of Divine Will, and I am empowered to act as an agent of the Combine, to enforce the dictates of She-Who-Is-Ever-A-Part when countersigned by the Te'ivosks and the Duma. Also, on occasion, as now, I will bring you gifts, eggs from the Condor Sequoia in the Golden City, where the Honored Dead live with our maker. These eggs hatch into great ideas that will change the world!

And then the bird disappeared and a new memory blossomed in the minds of all Sligs, like the power of True Tempered Tumbaga had passed it on, though no mortal had held this secret before.

And thus... Slingid gifted mathematics to the world. And at that same time, the Preparing Knife, long dormant, created new things as well: the first scale and the first ruler.

The Sligs had no written language of their own, but merchants had long been exposed to the concept from the Al-Kitab, and many Sligs were literate, though transliteration of The High Speech was considered taboo. So it was no great task to begin to use the symbols Slingid had gifted them to count and divvy.

0+10

Create mundane concept- Jubilee
Ap 1
Every 17 years, all debts are forgotten, all slaves freed, and all conquests ransomed or returned. In theory.
Law (Elegance) 1/10
Create Avatar- The Pontifex.
3AP
This being is a construct that exists to deliver gifts from Slingid and enact the will of the combined government of the Combine.
Evil (greed) 5/10

Create Greater Utility Artifact of Create Advanced Concept- The Condor Sequoia
5 AP

This sacred Borametz tree in The Golden City in the Wending fruits eggs that hatch into visions of great knowledge.
Evil (Greed) 10/10

Create advanced concept- Mathematics
AP 1(reduced by artifact)
The use of numbers.
Law (Elegance) 2/10

Create mundane concept- measurement
Artifact Use
The counting and abstraction of amounts of non-discrete objects

Create Mythic Society- The City at the Bsse of The Peak
1 AP (shared)
This is a group of diplomatic consulates for every society in the multiverse that would come
Law (Elegance) 3/10

Gunhaven

2021-10-05, 08:50 PM

The Birth of a God
It was a subtle thing, the coming of the being known as Ten Thousand Toilers. A slight shift in the movement of water striders, a change in tone among crickets, an uptick in ants and termites working. It was largely ignored by others since the Titans were first bound within each other. But as those mighty beings called gods started to leave the First World the insects began to grow more fevered in their actions. They coalesced in the dark parts of the forest on an unassuming island on the edge of the Drum.

Chakta had no grand form to take. Instead the first melding of disparate hives worked together and slowly began to explore their new home. A generation of living side by side passed as they observed the other creatures of their home and subtly the hives became one. The sound of crickets became their voice, the hard shells of beetles formed their armor, and ants formed their skeleton. They explored their island home until they found a race without purpose.

Those Touched by the Toilers
They were Halessian as Chakta understood their chats around fire, created by an orb served by stone, and left to their own devices. The problem was that they had no drive, no purpose, and simply survived on their island home. The Ten Thousand Toilers took pity on the first group they found and, through the chittering of their crickets, imparted knowledge and purpose on the small gathering. These would be known as the Mchwa, those who grew and brewed in the name of the Cultivated Cauldron.

The Mchwa spent many cycles learning from the hive of insects until they could turn the bounty of the forest into something that would provide more than simple roasted meat on a stick. Given time and the proper ingredients one of their Order could stave off the effects of weather and empower their customers against afflictions. Chakta saw that it was a start but still, the Mchwa were subject to the whims of the forest and they knew that the world was a vast place teeming with other life. They left their burgeoning society of chef-scientists to find others without purpose and a solution to their problem.

Cultivating Seas
It didn’t take long for a solution to present itself as the hive spied another tribe. These Rekexi, as Chakta understood, were smaller than the Halessian they first dealt with but more driven. For a while the hive rested upon their beach and watched the shrimpfolk toil away in their forests of kelp and algae while raising their fish and clams under the sea. Slowly water striders approached and observed as beetles dove under the coastal waters and spoke in the thrum of wings, how maybe the Rekexi could prepare their food.

Satisfied, the Cultivated Cauldron attempted to bring the two races together and realized quickly that while they could understand the language of mortals their newest students couldn’t. They pondered for a cycle of the dual colored moon until they came across a solution. On the beach between the two races they built what the Mchwa called the Kupikia Doa, a small divet lined with coral and wood that naturally served as a cauldron to cook their food in. With the next tide the two races gathered together and, while slow at first, eventually saw the two races spending the rest of the day celebrating the joining of their cuisines.

The two races started to work together after that fateful meeting with the Rekexi teaching the Halessian who joined the Mchwa how to properly cultivate at least the beach’s flora and fauna. Likewise the Halessian taught the Rekexi who joined the Mchwa what mystical properties were possible with their ingredients. Together they left the small island Chakta called home to explore new cuisines.

The Arrival of the Mchwa
Like the tide, the Mchwa eventually started to wash ashore the other continents. For the most part it was those Rekexi that wanted to join a group of gourmands, although some Halessian managed to close the distance to the Drum and other nearby lands on simple rafts. They brought a cuisine beyond what others had tasted and a promise to spread knowledge if they wished to join and share what they knew. There was no indication that they were hostile unless they were particularly animated about what they were cooking at the time.

Starting AP: 16

2 AP Form Racial Society - Mchwa - Mchwa are first and foremost farmers who then use what they cultivate to brew and cook. They are a multiracial group who’s only real tenet is that their products aren’t hoarded.

2 AP Teach Mystical Concept - Alchemy - Chakta has taught the fundamentals of Alchemy to the Mchwa. While some practitioners of the Craft prefer to work alone, the Mchwa always work in groups and view the entire process as a bonding experience.

2 AP Create Mystical Subconcept - Gourmet - A subset of Alchemy, Gourmet is the Craft of combining ingredients into food and drink. The chief difference between Alchemy and Gourmet is that of scale and time. It takes a Gourmand (one who practices Gourmet) at least half an hour to perform their Craft but always makes enough to feed at least a family; the effects of which are subtly felt until the next meal time.

3 AP Create Minor Utility Artifact - Kupikia Doa - A lesser artifact of Bless/Curse used by the Mchwa that serves as a cauldron. Once the society gets large enough it’ll serve as a meeting point for the various gourmands that make up the group where they can share recipes and ingredients.

0 AP Bless - Sherehe - The first use of the Kupikia Doa allowed the Halessian and Rekexi to communicate with each other despite not having a shared language. It goes beyond just simple body language, though, as those working together seem to intuitively understand each other. While it starts on the beach the effect spreads throughout Creation as teamwork is fostered.

1 AP Teach Advanced Concept - Aquaculture - The Rekexi teach those Halessian within the Mchwa how to properly cultivate food. While not under the purview of the concept, the Mchwa begin to flirt with the idea of agriculture.

Domain Got! Community (Hearth) See above AP expenditures.

I’ll get another post up once I figure out where I’m sending a bunch of shrimpfolk chefs.

Gnomes2169

2021-10-06, 08:46 AM

Oberon's Travels - Testing the peoples of the World
The tournament of champions was something that interested the Lord of Winter, and while he was supremely confident in his abilities and bore the weapon of his gods, he was a wise man and did not allow this to make him arrogant. Instead, he went to Tahr and Thua and asked them for a boon, to allow him and his companions to walk the First World without needing the mists, so that he could walk to the colosseum upon the Isle of Champions and answer the challenge there. Being the twin god's champion, this boon was granted, and when he left their presence the Lord of Winter brought with him a new form for himself and his champions. A form of war, that allowed full physical manifestation upon the First World and hardened the body to that of frozen soil, making the Andlitir that assumed it armored without needing to wear bulky equipment.

But even this new form did not make Oberon complacent. While he was a huntsman and knew some of the beings of the First World, and he had proven himself the greatest warrior among the Andlitir, he did not know how the other peoples of the First World fought. Not truly. If he was to face the champions of these people, then he should learn how to battle these other cultures, to prove his martial prowess by learning their techniques and how to counter them. And thus, during some of the mist events, Oberon would stride from a bridge nearly alone to challenge the the greatest warriors of a community or to hunt the greatest beasts he could find. Of course, he possessed his spear, the symbol of his office, so he was never truly alone, but unless he needed to summon the phantoms of the fallen the only beings that accompanied him were the one Who-Believes and the one Who-Follows, as he had declared them Story Keepers and wished for them to witness and record these new peoples and what they had seen.

Between these challenges and the records that had been created from them, either by Oberon's personal account or by Who-Believes' notes, the Huntsmen and Daumer began to take note of the strengths and weaknesses of each of the peoples on the First World, and developed strategies and techniques to hunt them. In the months leading up to the Tournament of Champions, these strategies became known as Tactics, an exercise of war that could be practiced and perfected, and the Daumer developed their own highly-mobile strategies based in the arts of war that they developed and understood.

On Wings of Darkness
As Oberon traveled the world and made his challenges, a new race would be born from a number of nests around the Ice Palace. Children of Thua, these great birds resembled ravens, but with eyes of crimson rather than black or gold. These corvids hatched all at once, flew to their mother, and then many immediately flew out into the First World to spread mischief and misery. These Great Ravens, as they became known, spread throughout the lands of the First World like a plague, settling where they found peoples and causing mischief, but mostly just watching and learning. They were the eyes of the Daumer, their lurking talons, and where they flew doom followed.

An Effective Retort
The effects of Arkhos' blessing had been subtle, and took time for the Howler and Corpse Eater to notice. Small sections of permafrost were no longer as thick, some of the obsidian and basalt rocks reflected light for a few minutes before they faded back to their natural shadowy state. The lands around the Mist Gates in particular where bridges were perpetually open and food and resources were brought in at all times of day were the most impacted, the gates themselves eventually illuminating the surrounding area in azure light as the influence of the First World soaked into the icy structures. The soil itself was even beginning to thaw, at least at a surface level, allowing the tribes that had settled around the permanent bridges to sink their tents into more permanent positions and build ever larger structures of hide and bone.

The defensive effects of the blessing were a bit more obvious, though Tahr'Thua wasn't certain that the god that had crafted this divine protection understood exactly what the largest danger was in this place. While victims dragged into the Hvittmaudh might be protected from the ream's biting cold for a short time, sturdy buildings with a fireplace would have provided protection just as effectively. The danger was that the Andlitir were all warriors, from the youngest child that could stand to the most ancient and bent elder, while villages and towns typically only had handfuls of guards that could fight against the tribesmen effectively, and none of them had true experience battling against swarms of half-ethereal warriors.

So while this was a way that the playing field was slightly evened, it had been so unbalanced in the first place that the blessing would not fundamentally change the relationship between the Daumer and the unfortunates dragged into the Hvittmaudh. But the attempt would draw the attention of Tahr'Thua, and the winter god found it... cheeky, if a bit misguided. The light and the heat generated by the blessing would make it obvious who was responsible for the divine artifice, and the Howler would shake his head and chuckle. "Ah, sun god, so angry, but so used to being a protector that you don't understand how to lash out effectively, even in anger." Tahr'Thua still needed to retort, of course, as this blessing was a challenge to winter's dominion within the Hvittmaudh, but there was no reason that the punishment could not also work as a lesson. "This is how you strike back."

Casting out his hands, a storm of ice and bitterly cold winds flowed from the Howler and spiraled out into the First World. Out it spun, twirling and seeking until it found the people of the sun. To every corner of the First World this curse spun, and where it found a Quetzpal'in a storm of frost and cold that vanished as quickly as it had come raged. As that frigid touch passed, the blessings that Arkhos had bestowed upon his creations had dimmed and faded, their immense vitality and luck sapped until a minute had passed for their bodies to regain their heat. While the blessings had been returned to them, the Quetzpal'in would now have a weakness that could be exploited, a weakness that the Daumer were uniquely suited to taking advantage of.

With a jealous caw, Thua wanting to play at this game as well, the Corpse Eater hopped to the mistgates and at each of them she sent whispers from voices that she had collected. In every tongue and to every people were little lies and false stories weaved, beliefs that were flawed and foolish but believed anyway. With these whispers, superstitions were born in the ignorant and learned alike, and these superstitions spread like wildfire. The First World was a natural breeding ground for them, with the recent departure of so many gods, so many monsters and mortals meeting for the first time, and horrors that stalked the oceans, depths and mists there to feed them. And once these false ideas were implanted, they were difficult, so incredibly difficult, to extract from a mortal's mind, as Thua's influence reinforced the ideals to unreasonable degrees. The only cultures spared the overt influence of the Corpse Eater were the Daumer and those at the Black Peak of Reason, but even these societies would have their own minor superstitions growing among them as the curse diffused and they were forced to interact with the afflicted societies.

Strengthening the Collective - Base of the Black Peak of Reason
As Oberon quested and the Great Ravens spread throughout the world, at the Black Peak itself Tahr'Thua's anointed utterer had been hard at work trying to grow the pool of candidates to fill the position. And had been hard pressed to really find traction, even among her own kin. Yes, there were those who would fill the position and even allow the god to speak through them, but as tales of the Daumer and Tahr'Thua's destructive wrath reached the peak, only a handful were able to be convinced to serve the terrible God of Mists out of obligation, and even fewer were willing to give themselves fully over to the faith.

It didn't help that those who gave true communion to the god, allowing him willing and full access to their bodies and minds in order to speak at the councils of gods and to the faithful, found the experience... rapturous. A terrible, heart-pounding, exhilarating experience that always just went that extra step too far when the vessels described it, turning it from something holy to something subtly profane and deeply disturbing. But that connection gave these few fully committed Utterers an insight into some of the god's plans for the First World, and after a few weeks of seclusion the first Utterer of Tahr'Thua walked from her cloister to approach the settled strangers that had journeyed from the lands of the Slig.

Seeing members of other societies as well had begun to gather, the mouthpiece of Tahr'Thua only grinned all the wider and lifted her hands as mists began to flow from the chamber that she had left. Mists from the frozen heart of the Ice Palace itself poured from the peak, and in Tahr's voice she whispered, "Do not fear, welcome strangers. Indeed, rejoice! For many of you have known the terrors of the Daumer, my Faces in the Mist. But my word holds true, and no war shall I wage upon this place or the peoples around it." As she spoke, tendrils of mist that took humanoid form pealed from the already thinning cloud, and from them formed the solid shapes of Andlitir, taking their new Warform to escape the reach of the Hvittmaudh and remain within the First World. "Now, instead, you will find them your protectors, your champions. My warriors shall stand guard and protect this holy place from the faithless and those who would betray the pact. None shall make war or violence upon this place and all who are within it without knowing the wrath of the Lord of Winter. And thus, I hold to my end of the bargain."

Starting AP: 0

Two Rollovers: +10 AP

-1 AP; Blessing - Eternal Winter: Oberon and his Companions, -the tribe that the current Oberon is from, the clanless huntsmen and the tribe the previous Oberon is from,- all gain the benefits of this blessing, and it allows them to manifest in fully physical form even in areas too hot for them. Not only that, they are able to take a near-frozen form that makes their skin and flesh as hard as permafrost, but which doesn’t reduce their strength or speed (even if it reduces their flexibility and agility.) This is considered a fourth stage and is known as the Warform of the Andlitir.
Domain Progression: Strength (Endurance) 1/10

-1 AP; Mundane concept - Tactics (Mobile Warfare): While parts of the Daumer society are beginning to settle and form permanent colonies within the Mistgates and around the Ice Palace, all of them were once nomadic tribesmen and fully half of their tribes have decided to maintain that lifestyle. The ones who are settling have begun to change their way of life, and their growing populations make their raids more vital and less a matter of glory. While the Mistgates do give them unlimited access to the First World, every raid and hunting expedition needs to be effective, and that means developing strategies and actually planning out strikes depending on what each ever-shifting bridge leads to.

The Huntsmen caste of each settled tribe has expanded, and those huntsmen practice actual arts of war instead of simply hunting and conflict. Moving as units, reading a battlefield, striking at targets to make openings for other warriors, these are the things that the Huntsmen now practice until they have perfected their maneuvers. Their nomadic heritage and natural abilities lend the Daumer peoples to a highly mobile form of warfare, and the tactics they specialize in center around ambushes, running battles and making gaps in enemy formations to push through and strike at their foe's core and soft underbelly.
Domain Progression: Strength (Endurance) 2/10

-1 AP; Shared Mythic society - The Collective's Fist: At the base of the Black Peak of Reason rests a newly forming society, and the Andlitir are too proud to let this society that represents the gods exist without their input. An enclave of Wild Huntsmen, all of them tribeless Companions of Oberon that benefit from the Eternal Winter blessing with no chance of that blessing fading away due to a transition of the hero's title, exists within the Collective. These Andlitir are not a full part of the society, holding themselves separate and superior due to their incredibly long lifespans and the frank arrogance of their earned titles, but they are willing to fight in the society's defense and in particular work to protect the sanctity and security of the Black Peak of Reason and the voices of the gods within.

Great Ravens fly into this society from time to time as well, though they are more allies of the Huntsmen there for a visit and to cause some mischief than they are true productive and contributing members. If they are around when a threat arises, though, the ravens will also assist in the society's defense.
Domain Progress: Strength (Endurance) 3/10

-1 AP; Curse - Superstition: A lot of things in the world have been changing, rapidly, and with no central authority except the words of the divine, many of which are now banished from the First World into the realms where their mortal followers cannot go, mortals are doing what they were taught to do. They're making up stories. Unfortunately, many of those stories aren't true, and are made by uneducated or ignorant people to try and explain why things happen in order to give comfort rather than to truly understand how their world works.

Most superstitions are harmless, being things like avoiding black cats, not breaking mirrors or decorating houses with volcanic stone to avoid bad luck. There are situations where superstitions are dangerous, however. Someone who does all the things that make a person "unlucky" can find themselves made into a pariah, blamed for everything bad that happens in a community. Or a superstition actively puts people that believe it in danger, some of the more popular actively dangerous beliefs being:
That burning sage will keep away Frost Widows, when the heat only draws them in.
Andlitir cannot enter a building they are not invited into as long as there is a lit candle in each window, when, in fact, nothing stops them from doing so, even if wild huntsmen don't go after such easy targets. Non-huntsmen, on the other hand, just use those candles to find which buildings are occupied to take their targets.
That [i]all[i] coral should be cleared from shallows to keep The Calling's influence from spreading to communities on the shore, when clearing it is stupidly dangerous due to other divine curses and leads to people drowning themselves, and destruction of so much habitat kills off much of a fishing community's food source.
Picking and using certain herbs causes the mists to come to prey on a community (since people think those herbs are holy things from Hvittmaudh,) when in fact they are medicinal, and have no connection to the Nightmare Realm in the slightest

Every nation, heck, every community has its own unique superstitions. There is no single comprehensive list of all the wrong and stupid things people believe, but believe them they do, to an irrational degree. The one thing that all superstitions share is that they are all blatantly false. Unless this curse is countered, there are no superstitions that have a kernel of truth or nugget of wisdom. They are all negative.

Societies/organizations established within the Peak of Black Reason and the Daumer peoples only suffer a minor version of this curse, with only small and typically harmless superstitions being present but not severely impacting the way their societies are run or creating many pariahs and scapegoats among their societies.
Domain Progression: Destruction (Ruin) 3/10

-1 AP; Curse - Winter's Sting (counter to the Unyielding Heart): While the blessing provided by Arkhos is proof against many things, in bitter cold (such as that of a cold-damaging spell, winter, any tundra or other permafrost-present climate, or the plane of Hvittmaudh) and against the magic of Ruin the blessing becomes inert, leaving any Quetzpal'in so afflicted as vulnerable as they had been before they were granted the solar deity's boon.

This period of vulnerability does not last long, the Unyielding Heart blessing restoring itself fully a minute after a Quetzpal'in manages to stop being exposed to the cold or magic that triggers this vulnerability. Sometimes this is easier said than done (a Quetzpal'in stranded in the Hvittmaudh, for example, is going to be in for an incredibly bad time until they manage to find an exit.)
Domain Progression: Destruction (Ruin) 4/10

-5 AP; Create Legendary Life - Great Ravens: Massive birds that call themselves the Children of Thua, Great Ravens are massive, hyper-intelligent birds, each of them almost five feet tall, with wingspans two and a half that size. Their feathers are incredibly dense with many air pockets, allowing them to exist in effectively any climate and shielding them from many mundane weapons. Those feathers are also infused with a magic conducting property, causing weaker spells to literally glide off of them and giving the ravens limited magic immunity. Great ravens are naturally able to channel Ruin magic as well at the level of a well-trained adept, and are able to generate a special brand of Ruin magic that causes misfortune in an aura around them. This suits their personalities well, as they enjoy witnessing chaos and mayhem, especially if they are the cause for it.

These magical birds are a part of the Daumer society, and often travel in murders of four to scout and explore the various places within the First World. Being highly intelligent corvids, they are able to learn, understand and imitate the languages of any peoples they encounter (outside of languages that are entirely telepathic, of course, since they have no psionic capabilities themselves,) and that makes them perfect as agents of mischief and scouts that destabilize areas for eventual hunts by Andlitir. Once the mists actually come, flocks of ravens will gather to join the Huntsmen and aid them in battle, adding to the chaos with spells and diving attacks from above.

Great ravens seem to have some authority over mundane corvids of all kinds. While those birds are not made any more intelligent or magical by association with their legendary counterparts, great ravens are able to see through their eyes and gather them into flocks to provide themselves cover and sacrificial bodies to protect themselves.

Great Ravens can live for 250 years, and they are almost universally considered members of the Wild Hunt (meaning they can be reborn if they are slain in combat,) so given their natural protections they often live to those old ages. Some small flocks do exist in the First World and in the Wellspring Resorts that are not associated with the Daumer, however, and those flocks act as they desire. These free agents do their best to avoid conflict with the Daumer, not wanting to face foes that can match and exceed them in everything they do, especially since they are not part of the Hunt and are thus nowhere near as resilient to dying permanently as their society-bound kin.
Domain Progress: Destruction (Ruin) 9/10

Total AP expended: -10 AP

Final AP: 0 AP

Domain Progression:
Destruction (Ruin) 9/10
Strength (Endurance) 3/10

Gunhaven

2021-10-06, 09:27 PM

Playing on the Drum
The first expeditions for the Mchwa was shaky to say the least. They weren’t seafarers by any stretch of the imagination and the call of the depths was so tempting for the simple folk. But eventually they made landfall on the nearby landmass and began to explore and taste. There was no rush in their journey, simply learning what could and couldn’t be used for their Crafts. Two groups spread out, one to the north and the other to the south, as they set up little camps.

Such Bounty! - Northern Ubollfidh
The group to the south stopped in their tracks, unable to comprehend what they saw. As they drew closer they confirmed that it was no trick but instead of a massive tree with a large forest surrounding it. There was some fear but after the nightly feast that washed away and they closed the distance, starting to forage near the edge of the forest and sea.

Such Beauty! - Western Anahuac
The group to the north slowly started to head east as they explored their corner of creation. After many cycles they crested one last ridge and felt both dread at more seafaring and joy at what looked like some sort of city with a massive pyramid in the center. One last meal was had on the coast as they created rafts and they floated or walked the distance to the new island, making landfall and setting up a camp. Halessian went further inland with food already cooked, waving at everything they came across and offering a snack on this most wondrous day. while Rekexi started up a simple algae farm off the coast and tapped into their collection of goat meat and clams.

Such Oddity! - Southeastern Piedwald
Another batch of the Mchwa left their island home and headed north on rafts of palm and kelp. It was strange for the Halessian and Rekexi to be so far away from one another after joining their shared society and that call meant a raft or two total were lost to that siren call but eventually they found land once more. What’s more it was a jungle and surely filled with a bounty of resources! They landed and began the task of setting up a camp while others started to forage in the jungle.

Jungle of Slumber - Southwestern Garden
At a certain point the second expedition to the north split and headed slightly to the east. This group found another continent teeming with life and set about making a simple camp. Unlike the other landfalls, though, the Halessian started to succumb to some sort of parasite which caused the first explorers to succumb to a deathly slumber. While the group didn’t immediately abandon the potential bounty, most of the Halessian opted to simply return home while the Rekexi decided to form a new colony or join others of their kind.

In the Land of Giants - Eastern Sauropods
The group that headed to the west had the hardest time with their journey. The ones to the north could at least stop on random islands and the journey overall wasn’t as long as theirs was. Only a pair of rafts managed to make the journey to the new land and the small group opted to sit and wait, much like Chakta did when first meeting the two races, in case another group eventually braved the journey or they found something helpful in the new land.

Mchwa shows up on coasts, as promised! They’re actively interacting with Anahuac, foraging in Ubollfidh and Piedwald, and waiting in the Garden and Sauropod.

Starting AP: 6
Artifact Charges Kupikia Doa: 0/1

canjowolf

2021-10-07, 08:13 PM

canjowolf

2021-10-07, 10:35 PM

Piedwald & Abdita - The Seaside Gardens

As the Gardener mariners cast their nets and prayed for trade, they also planted the Phihid on distant shores. In time, the colonies of sentient flowers began spreading along the shorelines, giving the Gardeners of this era a sign that they were not the first to visit these shores, and giving them "locals" to talk to. Would their spread inland go unopposed?

Cartesia & The Land of Giants

The coasts of Cartesia were long, but not uninviting, and the Phihid were cast there as well. It had seemed that the interactions between whatever natives inhabited these lands and the mariners had not yet risen to the attention of the gods, but surely something happened in those prehistoric times. Archeologists even now scour those lands for stories from those times. And from there it wasn't far for the Gardeners to said their living ships to the lands of the Sauropods. A slightly less dangerous country than their homeland, but perhaps more savage. And how must the minds on the living ships felt to those first sauropods who sensed them? A living city of flower-minds, all twisted together like colored strings in a rainbow rope. Fast, flowing, fearless. Wrapped round the patient, still, cautious minds of the Gardener crew. Those who maintained this mental city and brought it round to colonize distant shores. To feed the kikiri who followed the ships. To pull fish from the sea to feed the pitcher plants. To gather water from the pitcher plants to hydrate the Phihid.

Feathersnow

2021-10-08, 10:16 AM

The Slig Colonies

The Coming of the Sauropods

A pod of monsters the size of whales trooped towards the Slig settlement. At first, this was assumed to be a new Rekexi weapon, and the workers arrayed themselves to fight.

Then they were touched by a voice as strong and silent as their queen's!

These creatures were intelligent and neutral in the conflicts between Slig and Rekexi. What is more, they were only slightly less ignorant of the other peoples of the continent than the Sligs were of them.

The local Queen spoke in kind. WELCOME SISTERS, BE AT HOME AMONGST US

The workers set out fruits and baubles to offer their new guests.

Zelphas

2021-10-08, 02:43 PM

Deeper Connection

Within Deep, it continued to call out, forging more connections to the other places beyond the first world.

It crafted the connection to the land of eternal winter with care, choosing to mirror the actions of that world in a literal sense. Deep appeared in that world as a reflection that was not one in ice; once glimpsed, the non-reflection would reach out, drawing in all it could through its darkness and away. In Deep, a great mirror was grown from a substance too black to be water, too liquid to be stone, and too cold to be borne by any but the inhabitants of the frozen world. It constantly blew a cold, cold wind into the air--wind which as also drawn down and to its rest, taking the cold with it.

It built the gate to the Elemental Storm more directly, simply punching a hole in between the two realms and letting everything fall through as it wished. The hole was a sphere of non-elements in the elemental storm, a deceptive eye of calm that took in everything and gave very little back. Within Deep, the hole was an irregular gash of danger, disgorging flames, gusts of wind, blasts of water, and rolling rocks at random as it took them from the storm on the other side.

The connection to the Forge of Hearts was even simpler, and yet also more subtle. A small pit was formed, a place large enough for the average mortal to fit into but still mostly unobtrusive, where the inevitable detritus and excess from the forging process could be thrown. Once thrown there, it vanished. Within Deep, the other side appeared as a glowing crack filled with yellow light and heat; the heat still fell down instead of up, going to its rest as well.

At the bottom of all that has been created, it gathered itself for its next action. It knew that some of the bigger things seemed to have forgotten their purpose more strongly than others, and one of them was the maker of the place where it needed to Call next. That place was a gathering spot for many of the parts of the small things and big things, so it needed to be gathered in, but it expected strnger resistance.

As it prepared, everywhere it had touched began to feel the Call.

1 AP + 5 AP = 6 AP

Create Portal (Deep to Hvittmaudh) -2 AP: On Hivttmaudh's end, the portal is a moving thing, manifesting as a reflection of darkness and depth upon the ice and snow of the world. Once it is seen by a living thing, it tries to draw in everything nearby, including the very ice it is reflected by. On the Deep side, it appears as an enormous mirror of blue-black two miles above the bottom of the rock cylinder, constantly blowing out arctic wind and snow. This turns the waterfall from the First World portal into heavy snow and ice for the last two miles of the Deep cylinder. (Domain Progression: Decay (Patience) 8/10)

Create Portal (The Elemental Storm to Deep) -2 AP: The portal is as described above; an orb of emptiness in the Elemental Storm, and a large, jagged gap spewing the various elements in Deep. This portal is roughly twenty-five miles above the bottom of the cylinder; the area around it is surrounded by elemental chaos from the connected plane. (Domain progression: Decay (Patience) 10/10)

Decay (Patience) Domain Get!

Create Portal (The Forge of Hearts to Deep) -2 AP The portal is as described above. It is seventy-five miles above the bottom of the cylinder in Deep; most seeds or animals that somehow survive crossign into Deep end up near here due to its constant source of heat and light. (Domain Progression: Death (Endings) 2/10)

Curse (Terminal Call) -0 AP (the Pit of Hunger): The Calling has increased its efforts to bring everything to it. Every plane connected to Deep can feel the effects of the Call, and things gravitate towards the connected portals more often than mere chance would cause.

6 AP - 6 AP = 0 AP Remaining

Kinro

2021-10-08, 06:06 PM

Soon after the first group had been gathered, the thought mages detected a new set of thoughts arriving, one well distinct from the first. And so, a second delgation was sent, one of three, just like the first, to see if this, too, might be a species worth communicating with. And they were surprised, too. So many sentient beings, so many different types, but each so small.

Through its thought mage, the first delegation had received news of the new arrivals, but still, their mission didn't falter. They arrived, soon, at one of the village. They hardly needed to announce their arrival, their thunderous footsteps and sheer bulk doing the work for them. Once arrived, they regarded the assembled with curiosity, sending to all, not a message, but a general sense of calm and peacefulness. The baubles, they cared little for and the fruits would certainly not be enough for more than a mouthful. The noises the small ones made, too, meant little to them. But one seemed to have some sense of true communication, though, bafflingly, used it only to send noises. The thought-mage addressed his message. It was carefully crafted not to overwhelm a mind so weak, going slowly and carefully, letting one idea through at a time. The sauropods welcomed these small ones to their land, they wanted to know who these people were, why they had come, how long they'd been there. An offer was also made to attempt to her true communication, one that was only very slightly tinged with the idea of just how beneath the thought-mage sauropod the simplicity of communication he was currently using was. And then, of course, the reading of the mind in response. Much more delicate due to being done by the mind of one of the best thought-mages in the land, but still far from comfortable.

Rollover
7 + 4 = 11

Gunhaven

2021-10-09, 12:17 AM

The Garden, Jungle of Slumber

The first of the inhabitants of the Garden, other than the bugs and the silent but fragrant Phihid, to meet the small arrivals came not from the jungle, but from the sea. A living ship covered with flowers and smelling of boiling fat and of burning incense. Aboard ship were furry creatures with woven skirts and long swaying noses. They wore masks across their faces and bandoliers across their chests.
New Guests - The Garden, Jungle of Slumber
There was a moment of pause as a ship approached the landing party that decided to stick around, bobbing away in the sea and getting settled on the coast. A Halessian, one of a trio that stuck around, was the first to spot the ship, much better crafted then their own hastily constructed dingy, and he's the one that quickly got the others together. By the time they got close enough that the group could smell the boiling fat and burning incense they had started their own fire going and were gathering up their own selection of ingredients. Once they were close enough to be heard they called out in their mixed tongues "Come! Come! You have something cooking already, yes? It smells grand! Come, let us share!"

The oddest thing of the entire thing was that their words and actions were clearly understood despite the obvious clash of language between Rekexi and Halessian and that they'd never seen the strange ship or the furry beings on it. To a lesser extent the next oddity was the obvious lack of concern with some new group, but it was already a multiracial group to begin with.

Soon after the first group had been gathered, the thought mages detected a new set of thoughts arriving, one well distinct from the first. And so, a second delgation was sent, one of three, just like the first, to see if this, too, might be a species worth communicating with. And they were surprised, too. So many sentient beings, so many different types, but each so small.

Through its thought mage, the first delegation had received news of the new arrivals, but still, their mission didn't falter. They arrived, soon, at one of the village. They hardly needed to announce their arrival, their thunderous footsteps and sheer bulk doing the work for them. Once arrived, they regarded the assembled with curiosity, sending to all, not a message, but a general sense of calm and peacefulness. The baubles, they cared little for and the fruits would certainly not be enough for more than a mouthful. The noises the small ones made, too, meant little to them. But, guessing that the one making the most might be the most important, it was to that one that the thought-mage addressed his message. It was carefully crafted not to overwhelm a mind so weak, going slowly and carefully, letting one idea through at a time. The sauropods welcomed these small ones to their land, they wanted to know who these people were, why they had come, how long they'd been there. An offer was also made to attempt to train one of their numbers in true communication, one that was only very slightly tinged with the idea of just how beneath the thought-mage sauropod this simplicity of communication was. And then, of course, the reading of the mind in response. Much more delicate due to being done by the mind of one of the best thought-mages in the land, but still far from comfortable.

Rollover
7 + 4 = 11

The Land of Giants
A Halessian was the first to hear, then feel, and finally to see the sauropod. He had gone out to gather some simple plants and grubs to see what was edible and what wouldn't work with the Rekexi's algae and clams. By the time he was in view he was already on the way back to the small camp they had constructed on the coast. The coastal clearing, where a couple dozen beings milled about, flew into motion as they started their work. The feeling of calmness and peace washed over them and was met with their own feeling of jubilation. The group called out as loud as they could "Hail! We feel you mean no harm, we just wish we could do more to prepare for you!" Some of the voices were replaced with laughter as the others called out "We doubt we could make enough to feed one of you after all! Such a large creature we find ourselves facing!"

The mixed language was muddled slightly but somehow the group managed to shout their words loud enough to be heard, their actions jubilant as they worked.

Durmatagno

2021-10-09, 01:11 AM

Rettia

Chaos was the name of the game. The world below the two faced moon wasn't boring per say, but it didn't have that touch that only Rettia could provide. So she would provide it. She giggled to herself as she wove her godly magic, spinning into being great new forms of life to scatter across the world below. Her favored beast though would take some time. She got to work, sculpting it by hand even if she could just do it with magic. Before Rettia a monster, a beast of great size was forming. Living hills of armor, with great wings and an eternal appetite. Massive creatures that no single mortal could hope to conquer, though Rettia would love to see them try, and even reward them if one succeeded. No, before her was a new beast. One of many she was releasing on the world. She sat atop the first of them, blessing him with a greater intellect than the others. Her son, lord of all his kind. Maybe in time there would be more like him, but for now, he would be eternally unique. Instead of the brown, black, or grey of his brothers and sisters, his carapace held a silver sheen. His great eyes held a sharp intellect, and even as he began testing his new body, great wings extending and filling the air with violent vibrations, Rettia laughed loudly. Perfect, with so many of her children running around, no one could ignore her any longer. No one could dare leave Rettia to rot.

With some beasts turned on the world, she turned her eyes to the other mortals dotting the world. She would find them, and see how they were doing. Maybe make things more interesting, she did not yet know. What she did know was that she had claimed a new throne for herself, a new source of power, and with it, she would command greater respect from the world around her.

Starting AP - 16

Create Legends (5) - Obelisk Beetle - A massive beetle the size of large hills. These creatures have extremely thick carapaces that can shrug off blows that would break walls. Surprisingly fast for their size, and able to fly, these beetles are more dangerous than their size alone would suggest. While not intelligent, even by the standards of beasts, they are stubborn, and don't die easily even once their armor is cracked. Will eat anything in sight, preferring easy meals over chasing things. As such, they often munch through forests, or even burrow into mountains, feasting on the rock itself. Though they prefer plants over all other food, if nothing else is readily available, they would even try to hunt things that rival their power.

Raise Hero (2) - Mercury the First Born - The first born of all the Obelisk beetles. Sporting a carapace with a silver sheen, a sharp intellect far above his brothers and sisters, greater size, and even access to magic, Mercury is the only child Rettia has named herself. He roams the world searching for new sights, new stories, and new tastes. While he is just as hungry as his kin, he has the intelligence to know it is simply because his belly can never be fully, not that he is starving. His breath is freezing, and in a pinch can be used as a weapon, though he prefers his massive horn and size.

Create Monsters (1AP) - Glacier Ant - Large (Roughly Dog sized) ants that prefer freezing cold and ice. Build large nests into glaciers, and are strong swimmers, gathering most of their food from the water near their homes. When pushed inland, they attack and eat anything they can swarm over. While not particularly tough, their bites are freezing and their Queens able to expel freezing breath.

Create Monsters (1AP) - Golden Grasshopper - Roughly the size of a horse, these rare creatures prefer hot biomes, and are docile in-spite of their size. At least, as a grasshopper. When they become Golden Cicada's, they are aggressive, and known to target anything in their path, stopping to devour even bones before moving on.

Create Monsters (1AP) - Azure Dragonfly - Cat size blue dragonflies that behave much likes wolves. Territorial, and protective of their young, they are unusually intelligent for an insect, and known to seek revenge or bond to those that treat them well. Have a knack for sniffing out ripe berries and roots, but will eat about anything put in front of them.

Spent AP - 10
Final AP - 6

Domain Advancement - Fire (Magma) - 5/10 AP (Create Voicury (Create Land), Create Rettia's Palace (Weave Plane))

Life (Insects) - 10/10 AP (Create Serovian Moth (Create Life (Race)), (Create Aurorean States (Create Racial Society), Create Obelisk Beetles (Create Legends), Create Glacier Ant (Create Monster Race))

Domain Gained - Life (Insects)

Magic (Enchantment) - 4/10 AP (Create Ice Shaping (Create Mythical Concept), Teach Ice Shaping (Teach Mythical Concept)

MrAbdiel

2021-10-09, 01:58 AM

The Nechustani had never been a united people. It is possible they never would be. Their history, such that it was, was riven with tragedy and tribal conflict - and the occasional flash of excellence like unto which the world has rarely seen.

Early colonization efforts had taught them the hostility and danger of the world, and so they had remained in their desert, in their Serpentways, with only small groups of individuals travelling further and never establishing anything like expansive permanent settlements. Everything was the clans, and the clans were everything. Thus it was the dawn of the second epoch for the desert elves when their colonists set out en masse not to found a city for themselves, but to follow the divine call to participate in the creation of some braided whole. They did not bring much science, or magic, or even particularly coherent tradition with them. But what they did bring was bloody minded devotion to excellence in the tasks they sought to accomplish; and a cultural liquidity that made them fine middle men, merchants, interpreters, personal servants, and politicians.

Additionally, they brought with them the unique ability to bind familial ties beyond the biological line - at least, to an extent. Nechustani breed true with Nechustani; but contain within themselves the capacity to parthenogenecize offspring with psychic input - which is to say, to create unique Nechustani children with some mental and social characteristics of the ‘father’ involved. And protracted interaction with other races revealed more about them that had never come to the fore, in their monoracial birthplace. They possessed a cultural chameleonism that meant they could, if devoted to a task, find kinship and acceptance in all but the most devotedly intolerant people groups. They instinctively tracked, and replicated chemical and physical displays from sapients to which they were attracted - producing pheromones, mapping movement rhythms, even subconsciously shifting their digestive arrangement to crave and benefit from another species’ preferred diet. The foreparts of these gifts were known from intertribal marriages and the adaptability of one Nechustani to the culture of another. But only with their arrival in numbers to the Black Peak of Reason’s foot settlement did it become clear that the pale elves were capable of in all but the most extreme cases meeting, loving, marrying, and bearing children for other species. In all cases to this point, those children were born with the same slender elven proportions and body structure as their Nechustani mother, but often carried skin tonation, hair colors and eye pigments mapped from their extraracial ‘father’. Inevitably to many species, this capacity for interspecies reproduction would be atleast initially seen as a kind of subversion or parasitism; a way of producing creatures who were insultingly alien to their people and only related to them in superficial ways. For others, the prospect of finding a Nechustani spouse might represent the only way that they may conceive at all - because of a biologically inert sexual attraction in one’s own species, or because of a physical infertility which did not apply to the psychic reproduction of these ‘half elves’. Not to mention that even in a difficult world struck with many challenges, it is possible that love - even unlikely love - can bloom.

In his smoky realm through which the animi of the dead gusted, partitioned and slipped into their eternal places, the Godfather stirred from his brumation. Not deeply; not enough to signal new great motion from the Wending; but he did exert enough of himself to change the world.

The Midwife of Blades spun her strange craft, being the tongue of the serpent and speaking in words of otherworldly steel; and a new comet streaked from the night sky amidst the stars. It orbited the world three times over three nights, visible in its passage in all places, before touching down with a tremendous detonation in the black sands of the Nuarahan desert, where the fractious Nechustani tribes explored the crater in curiosity. Amid the glassed hemisphere of sand was a shard of otherworldly stone pointing straight up; and from its very tip protruded the hilt of an unexposed blade. For all their effort, the strange elves could not draw the weapon out or break it free - but they recognized it as a sacred Fang of Arah-Huana, and so collaborated at least to sent teams of their people to excavate the site whenever the sands strove to fill it in again.

* * * * *

Atticus-He-Speaks-For-Me stood shoulder to shoulder with Nazara-Trades-In-Flesh. They stood where they had several times before - on the little hillock that was once the tallest mountain in the range, before the Black Peak of Reason erupted before their eyes and the Prophet’s destiny was bound to it. He smiled faintly at the memory. Not quite of how young he was - his people were so long lived the sentiment wasn’t quite right - but of how much less he was, at the time. Now he knew what he was. He was the voice for a god in the world; the conductor of a choir of races to speak to one another across the vast distances. It had taken him every day of his life from that moment on the hill to this to come to serenity; but he found it now.

“Could you ever have loved me? If things had been…”

At his words, the face of Nazara turned to him sharply. She was beautiful, for sure; beautiful like a finely crafted tool was beautiful. Her form, and purpose, were written in ever slim curve and powerful moment of restrained movement in her body. When he followed her here first, he had imagined quite naively that he could charm her a little aside from her purpose; and perhaps, they would make love out here in the warmth of the sun. But now, without her even addressing the question with words, he could see the answer in her eyes. He was married to the mountain. She was married to her weapon. Each of them was a tool of their god, and neither of them had enough left in their spirit to be something so full and important as a love to the other. He spoke before she deigned to muster a reply.

“I know.”

The naginata at her side gleamed in the starlight; a hazed, distorted field of heavenly majesty in the reflection. He drew his own Fang, then. It had seen no use; and its sheen was a perfect mirror. Ashur, the Dividing Star, looked in his hand like a hole in the world through which an inverted starscape was visible. He held the curve of the blade up to the moon, embracing some childish instinct to blot it from the sky for a moment; and in the motion of his arm, something struck his vision in a split moment, and washed through him with ferocious nausea.

“What?” The monosyllabic question from the Carnifex, as she steadied his shoulder with a strong hand. “What strikes you, Atticus?”

Was she worried? Perhaps she did care, in some part of her flinty heart. But right now, he couldn’t think of that. Right now, the world was changing. He gasped, caught his breath, and gazed down into the karambit in his grip, and its false stars; and then skyward, to the true nomad lights, in astonishment he had not felt since… well. Since the first time he stood in this spot.

“Truth, Carnifex. I am struck by Truth; and I fear it has killed me.”This week, before rollover: 3 from previous week plus 5 from last rollover = 8 AP.

Contribute to the Collective - 1 AP 1/10 Love (Devotion)

The Collective’s Spirit

Nechustani join the accruing city-state at the foot of the Black Peak of Reason, and are forced to confront how undeveloped they are technologically and mystically compared to the other races. As a result, they fill out a variety of unusual spaces in the social structure to come.

Undesirables - Nechustani devotion to excellence translates even into excellence at low tasks, and they find societal usefulness as servants, porters, local guides and second-string traders.
Social Lubricant - Nechustani display a cultural adaptability and proficiency with language that makes them useful as translators, negotiators, and occasionally politicians.
‘Companions’ - Not quite as suggestive as the name might indicate, Nechustani ‘Companions’ are those who have developed a romantic or political bond with a member of another race that approximates to marriage, whether or not that host race recognizes it as such or whether they consider that companionship something else altogether. Nechustani display an incredible talent for adapting to extreme lengths to be with their companion, but not impossible lengths. They can learn entirely new languages and social morays, learn to eat only raw fish or grass, and even emotionally restructure their psyche to an extend that makes them compatible with those individuals they choose to pursue down such a path. They cannot, however, learn to breathe water, or produce their own heat, or gain the ability to fly. This does not preclude tragic romances that can never truly be, nor children born of such engagements in which the Nechustani ‘mother’ bears a child with the ‘father’s mental traits and a strong cultural bicompatability. Needless to say, this ability causes, in a young and now superstitious culture, as much trouble as it causes benefit.

Create Artifact (Minor Combat) - 2 AP, discounted from Midwife of Blades. 6/10 Darkness (Ambush)

Naora-Sha, the Queensword

Lodged in stone in the home desert of the Nechustani, this divine weapon remains idle; its purpose hidden even from them… for now.

Bless (Discounted by Perdition Sluice) - 0 AP

Writ in Starlight

The arrangement, movement, and correlation of the stars with other astronomical and terrestrial events forms a kind of language that, if studied with intensity and care, reveals a curious thing: the activities of the gods are recorded in the night sky. Let them that have wisdom discern.

This is a blessing that is presently hidden from the gods - even from its designer, who lit the touch paper for this revelatory stellar pronouncement with full understanding that he, himself, would not be able to directly ‘read’ the stars. Only mortals, by some quirk of their mortality, can study the heavens and reach any conclusions about what the gods have done, or are doing.

There are some limitations on this, of course. A culture needs to have learned Astronomy to even begin the process - an ability that has only really become possible because of the recency of the creation of the stars. Reading the stars is fraught with error especially for those new to the practise, and those over-eager to discover some divine fact may instead learn a calamitous misunderstanding. But over time, mortal societies and groups that dedicate themselves to the study of the stars will begin to retroactively glean insights about the actions that the gods have taken from the beginning of the First World up until their present moment. Learning these things might be highly distressing, even maddening for certain individuals - but for good or ill, the curtain is being torn.

Create Mundane Concept (Astronomy) - 1AP, Darkness (Ambush) 7/10

Atticus-He-Speaks-For-Me discovers the language of the stars, and begins desperately assembling the best minds from amongst the Utterers to scribe, chart, postulate and understand the actions of the gods through them. His initial intention is to do so discreetly, but the Utterer network is only neutral in as much as it sticks to its principles, and the practice can easily spread to any nation which takes part in the Utterance.

4 AP Remaining.

Razade

2021-10-09, 04:34 AM

The Deluge: The Planar Tree

The Song of the Deluge continued, and in far off reaches where the Great Tree reached so too did its acts of creation. The Dreaming and the Forge soon sprouted tendrils from the Wellspring and where these tendrils touched the foul call from the Mortal Realm that had sought to drown out the music of Creation was silenced. Where these discordant sounds arose foul demons and monsters formed, elemental and cruel and wild for the Deluge had not tamed them yet they were its creations and as such fell to its Law.

The Kittess: Planar Vagabonds

It had been some time since the Kittess had crossed the portal and into The Wellspring. There they found bountiful islands that stretched as far as one might see and what was more...entire Conclaves simply disappeared! The Kittess had little understanding of these strange goings ons, Conclave after Conclave disappearing always on the same islands and yet none returned. No sign of struggle, the great vast whales that moved in the oceans said little, but there was something going on. For the first time since they had left the First World, they were curious once more and across the planes banjo music played.

12AP

Bridge Plane (The Wellspring to The Dream) - 2AP: The Wellspring continues to stretch the vast roots of the Great Tree to the remaining planes unconnected directly to it. [Law (The Great Tree) 2/10]

Bridge Plane (The Wellspring to the Forge) - 2AP: In small spaces the tendrils of the Great Tree wind into the Forge. [Law (The Great Tree) 4/10]

Bless (Planar Law) -1AP: All Planes that connect to the Wellspring are infused with the Law laid out by The Deluge and the draw of the Terminal Call is silenced by the beauty and majesty of its music. [Law (The Great Tree) 5/10]

Create Legendary Life (Demons) - 3AP: Born from the discord of the Deluge's song and the draw to the depths, Demons haunt the Planes and seek to cause havoc where they are found. [Life (Planar Entities) 3AP]

Create Legendary Life (Elementals) - 3AP: Born within the Elemental Storm, the Elements compose themselves of the many energies of Creation and fight against the sounds that might unrest The Great Tree. [Life (Planar Entities) 6AP]

Bless (The Song of the Deluge) -1AP: Those beings made by the Deluge travel freely to any Plane. [Life (Planar Entities) 7AP]

zzzzzzzz414

2021-10-09, 04:42 AM

Despite her tiredness, Maurlyn smiled, as did the rest of her companions - though there was a slight faltering of confusion as Tonalli mentioned "The cost of angering the children of the forest." They were the first dryads to visit this place...were they not?

But that was a story they would not hear for some time yet - for they indeed had plenty of time, and plenty of other things to spend it on. The five of them stayed in the city of Tollan for many months, gradually learning the language of the Quetzpal'in as the Quetzpal'in learned Dryad - as well as the deeper art of the True Language. They learned of the city and its god and customs, and were amazed at how much the city's ways aligned with their own, at the stories of how the one called Arkhos had apparently prepared for their arrival. It was at once flattering and comforting, yet somehow faintly disconcerting, to find friends prepared where they had expected strangers.

However, though they did love the city of Tollan, they could not stay - it was not their role to settle, but to float on, to bring word of the world back to the forests, and go forth to chart and discover even more of it. But such a departure could not be marked lightly; not after all they had seen and all they had been given. So, several months after they had first arrived, the Seeds requested a meeting with some of the leaders of the city, in the same garden they had first arrived at. Rhiannon stepped forward, stiffer and more formal than they had ever seen her; she was clearly attempting to follow the weight of the occasion. But as she reached out her hands and closed her eyes, her body language relaxed. Despite months of practice and improvement, the amount of magic required to use the Quetzpal'in tree-speak was still taxing; but she had enough magic for this much. The plants began to sway and rustle, forming into a message that almost had the cadence of a ritual:

[Treasured friends; I greet you as the orange light greets the great oak at sunset. Your city and teachings have amazed us, and your hospitality and kindness has honored us; but we cannot remain forever. We must soon move on, to return to our own lands and venture to new ones. But before we do, there is something we wish to share with you. We would offer you and your people three gifts. We ask for nothing in return; your hospitality has been more than enough. But each gift still carries a price.]

[The first gift we would give you is a gift of speech. You have shown us how to speak again in the way of Ents; so, we would show you how to speak in the way of other plants, as I am doing right now. The way of channeling the magic in the world to speak to them, to shape and guide them that they may provide for you as you provide for them; to use Earthspeak. We will show you the ways of molding the trees and living wood as we do, to grow so that cutting and chopping will never again be needed. But here is its price: to speak to the plant life of the world is to know it; to know their desires and wills and hope for life, simple as they may be. To know what a cut log or bitten fruit truly costs. Many creatures walk this world in glad ignorance of the death their very existence brings, the natural cycles of consumption and destruction that uphold all life. Take this gift, and that ignorance will never again be yours.]

[The second gift we would give you is a gift of protection. We have seen the destruction and death that the mist-walkers have brought to you; we would offer what help we can against them. We dryads were actually woven of earth, wood and leaves by our progenitors, the Ents; we were given their Names, and this is what first filled us with life and purpose in a land far from here. My companions and I...believe we have found a way to do something similar, but simpler. We can channel the magic of the world and of the True Language to make living trees into beasts that can walk the earth by their own power, and can be shaped and guided with Earthspeak, to protect you from those who would do you harm. But here is its price: the power of the True Name is the power of self. We only know how to give these moving tree-beasts simple Names; but simple Names are the most dangerous of all, for a simple self is clear and indomitable in purpose. These beings will never falter. Hammer a purpose of killing or death into their spirits, and they will follow it until they are destroyed. That is not a power to take lightly.]

[The last gift we would give you...is this.] Rhiannon nodded to one of her companions, and was handed a small satchel; opening it, she revealed to the Quetzpal'in a set of simple, rough clay vessels, each filled with a viscous amber liquid. [This was taken from the roots of COLLOS themself, entrusted to us and meant to be used by us. This is the gift of Self, Name, and Awareness given to the first of xer children by COLLOS, who is OGAM; a sapling that is exposed to this gift will grow into an Ent, rather than a tree. Our stories say that since the beginning of the world, this has been drawn by the Ents from grandmother OGAM, used to raise the next generation of life. You would be the first outside the Five Forests to recieve it; the first non-ents to raise new ents. Here is its price: though it is not yet time to leave, and we can guide them through their first months of existence, the rest of their upbringing falls solely to you. All other ents in creation have been raised by other ents, a community to teach and guide them. These saplings will have only you; the responsibility of raising them will rest on your shoulders. Ents are slow and ancient beings. You will not live to see them mature, and neither will your children. But the saplings you raise will live for centuries beyond you; the first ents to be, not children of OGAM, but children of Arkhos.]

Rhiannon finally relented, puffing and gasping.

--

Brown and yellow leaves fell in great showers all year round. Bark peeled like dead skin, and every passing season brought fewer and fewer flowers, more and more pallid gray wood. There was no denying it now: OGAM, grandmother earth, bringer of life itself, was dying. UBOLL, COLLOS, CAERTHEAND, SAILLE, FEARNA; all of them were, year by year, day by day, wasting away, the low hum of xer presence and awareness slowly fading. The Listeners and Watchers were baffled, disturbed, applying all they knew to attempt to diagnose what was happening. But nothing was found; whatever ailed xer was wholly beyond them. It was as though existence itself were rejecting xer. But why - how could the bringer of life succumb to the pull of death? What would happen if xe passed from this world? Would they too - and all other life of the world - cease to be, rejoining the dead stone from which they had been pulled?

But as xer children fretted, deeper things swirled within the heart of OGAM. Xe was not unaware of her state, or of the state of the world. And even as xer physical body decayed, xe worked; slowly, gradually, a thousand little things in a thousand little places.

OGAM saw that xer children used her roots to communicate with each other, and xer sap to spread the gifts of Awareness, Name and Self; to hold what was called "Spirit". When xer life passed from this world, xer body would die and decay, and there would be a great splintering, a great dying. This was unsatisfactory to OGAM. But xe could not keep xer life force from passing from this world; something else, then, must make xer body live on. So, beneath the earth, a thousand times a thousand little growths sprouted from the earth, harvesting, not nutrients nor water, but the earth itself; minerals and metals of a thousand different kinds, bound and melded and weaved through with magic; something like the art of the skeletal one, but grander, deeper; transforming xer roots into something that would live long after xe had passed.

And meanwhile, xe also worked towards something else. Other lands, great bodies of earth not raised by xer, had appeared; their ripples touching xer roots and branches, but otherwise cut off, separated. This was unsatisfactory to OGAM. Xer flagging strength could not reach the lands on the other side of the great rock; but there was one right above xer - and in its center, something interesting. Xe reached out towards it, probing, curious; an offer of connection, though OGAM knew it would be xer children, not xerself, who would know its fruit.

And finally, she directed the remainder of xer earthly strength towards one last gift. Without the sap that flowed from xer roots, xer children would wink out and die, one by one, with none to replace them. This was unsatisfactory to OGAM. And so xe concocted something new within xerself; a gift greater even than those of Self, Name and Awareness. The gift of CREATION. Across the five great ent-forests, there was a sudden stillness as something new passed through the ancient roots of OGAM; a new sort of nutrient. One that did not merely grant awareness, but that allowed one to grant it to others; to allow new ents to *create* the sap of life, not merely draw it from xer roots. And with it came one, final message, louder and clearer than any xe had given to xer children before:

LIVE ON

And then, with that last great outpouring of power, xe was at long last spent. The great pressure gnawing at xer very being broke through. The dead stone won at long last. With one last great shudder, the one called OGAM passed from the world, leaving behind only decaying wood.

And yet, the Power beyond Power, that which is called divinity, cannot truly die.

On the earth below, something stepped out of the corpse of the one that had been called SAILLE, who was OGAM. A creature nine feet tall, with the lower half of a deer and grand branching antlers, yet with the upper body of a humanoid, with hair like leaves in a dozen colors; the dryad that would be known as Ogham.

And in the planes beyond, in a place known as the Wending, in a field of rich yellows and lush greens, a single oak sapling poked its way through the soil.

---

The mixed art of metallurgy and earthspeak continued to flourish on Piedwald, especially among those cities and places touched by the Circle. Artisans and magic users wove together true temper, truenaming, and specially-shaped and cared-for undead earthshapen trees. The resulting weapons were incredibly rare and difficult to produce, but also thoroughly legendary: masterworks imbued with names and magical powers, thoroughly bonded to their users.

The makers of these weapons gradually began to diverge from the Circle proper, becoming less focused on the arts of necromancy so much as their specific arts of weapon-"forging", many of them retreating to forest workshop-hermitages to better hone the ways of speaking to the earth, crafting ever-finer creations in pursuit of various ideals of perfected harmony between weapon and wielder. These reclusive weaponsmiths were not often directly acquainted, and many even competed with or despised each other; but many began to refer to them, collectively, as the Whisper-Smiths.

---

Ents, as all other enspirited beings did, proceeded to the Wending upon their deaths, though, unlike most enspirited beings, the concept of "movement" through its layers was foreign to them; instead, Ents within the Wending seemed to witness the plane itself shifting and changing around them, eroding away or rearing up according to a flow of forces only they could witness, yet somehow seemed to end with them proceeding nearer or further from their fellows and from certain landmarks. Though many were scattered across varying places, a good number seemed to end up "concentrated" in two places in particular.

Those who had been generous in life, caring for and stewarding the forest and those around them, striving towards connection and life even at their own expense, tended to congregate in a particular place in the Savannah; a place of plentiful light and water, of rich soil, where the landscape itself seemed to adjust such that there was space for each new arrival, never leaving any too distant or too crowded; a place where all were free to converse on their lives, or ponder the deepest questions of existence, or, when all that needed to be said was said and all that needed to be thought was thought, to lapse easily into a calm and pleasant rest. A place that would be known as the Dappled Glade.

Those who had been grasping and selfish in life, choking and shading out all else, viciously pursuing and hoarding all resources and nutrients they could, gorging and swelling as the forest suffered around them, tended to congregate in a rather different place. Here, the air grows cold and dry, the soil thin and rocky, the fires fading and giving way to an eternal musty twilight. Here, the branches are barren, caught in an eternal winter, and the landscape itself seems to warp and distort, pushing trunks closer together until there is barely room to move between them, as roots twine together on the forest floor until no soil can be seen, only twisted wood. Here is a slow, agonizing war of all against all, every participant straining, grasping, fighting over the tiniest bit of refreshing nutrients that are somehow always enough to struggle over, yet never enough to truly satisfy, no matter how many ents join or leave the endless war of domination. A place that would be known as the Choking Labyrinth.

Total AP: 9/15

Rollover 2x: 9+8=17 (Maxed at 16AP)

Create Monstrous Life: Treants (1AP)

Magic (Druids) 9/10

Blessing: The Unliving Roots (1AP)

Life (Ents) 8/10

Blessing: The Gift of Creation (1AP)

Life (Ents) 9/10

Blessing: Connection to Shadow (1AP)

Life (Ents) 10/10

Create Avatar: Ogham (3AP)

Create Organization: The Whisper-Smiths (1AP)

Magic (Druids) 10/10

Alter Land: The Dappled Glade (1AP)

Earth (Soil) 9/10

Alter Land: The Choking Labyrinth (1AP)

Earth (Soil) 10/10

Domain Acquired: Earth (Soil)
Domain Acquired: Life (Ents)
Domain Acquired: Magic (Druids)

Ascension (Lesser Deity)

16-1-1-1-1-3-1-1-1 = 6AP Remaining

KragBrightscale

2021-10-09, 08:28 AM

On Rekexi and Death

“Death is no stranger to the peopl of the Krillix empire, as most generations experience at least one war over the course of their short lifespans. Although countless rekexi may fall in each battle, the rekexi in general do not seem to fear death, nor do they deeply grieve the loss of those they know.

This is likely related to the Rekexi’s intrinsic desire (and possibly need) to experience regular change. What is death but another change, from being alive to being something else? What greater change would a mortal ever experience during their life?

That is not to say that the Rekexi seek death, for that would defeat another fundamental desire and ambition. To be the instrument of change, to be the one to decide and determine the changes in their own life and that of other. Death in battle is therefore not something faced with fear or sadness, but indignation and anger at having the change imposed on them by others.”

-Arkostix the dead

Sea Monsters, Bubbleweed and divers

As more terrestrial peoples took to the sea in their ships and traveled inland to explore the world, the number of incidents where ships were attacked by sea monsters increased. Waiting just outside the currents for prey to pass by, the enormous sea creatures had it easy.

Although there were not many Sea Monsters that actively hunted for ships, the few that did became known and feared by most experienced sailors. Descriptions spread of these Sea Kings, and sailing through their primary hunting areas was considered suicidal.

A shark that could split a ship with just its fin, a sea serpent that would wrap around ships and crush them, a whale that could swallow ships whole, and the tentacled monster that would drag ships down into the deep.

The Great Crustacean started noticing the foreign presence of the land dwellers, as they too learned to make use of the ocean’s bounty. It was a welcome change, yet these air breathing creatures seemed to be unable to truly enjoy the sea due to having to end their short dives to resurface for air.

As a gift to divers everywhere, Kraxichit created something new and spread it throughout the oceans using the currents. A new species of sea weed could now be found in most kelp forests.

Pale blue-green aquatic plants whose stems glow faintly with bioluminescence, bubbles of air wrapped in rubbery translucent membranes grow in clusters all the way up the stem culminating in one larger bubble.

Divers eventually learned that instead of resurfacing for air, they could just stick their face into a bubble to breathe. The exchange of air is beneficial to the plant as well, and used bubbles shine brightly, illuminating the surroundings.

AP: 5 + 4 = 9

Curse (Sea Kings) -1 AP
Sea Kings are the apex predators of the sea. Originally sea monsters (sea creatures blessed by Krax and to grow to giant sizes), they have grown over the countless years to become some of the most feared existences in the oceans. Not much is known about them as any who meet them usually are eaten, and it’s not until ships became more common that some escaped to tell the tale.
Change (Mutation) 2/10

Bless (Bubbleweed) -0 AP (artifact use)
A new variety of seaweed that grows bubbles of air that can be used by air-breathing creatures to stay submerged longer. They are quite beautiful, and glow brightly when used, helping divers see better in dim-lit aquatic environments.
no portfolio progress due to free

AP remaining: 9 -1 = 8

canjowolf

2021-10-11, 12:21 PM

The Garden - Sweet Fruits and Bitter Tea

For a time, the Gardeners on ship watched the creatures on shore. Normally, Gardeners were a cautious people, but those who took to the seas were the more adventurous of that jungle race. Hearing the call across the waves, some discussion was had about the food. The Gardeners had been rendering fat for waterproofing and to trap bugs. They were not used to boiling their fruity meals, but were used to teas and ointments. An interesting concept to try.

Still, about two dozen Gardeners donned armor and lowered themselves into smaller shore ships, which they rowed to the land gathering. With them they brought fruits and incense, pots of fats and paints, herbs to reduce pain, and a hot pot of stimulating tea, kept warm by sandwiching embers between two clay pots, and carried on handles of ornately carved bones from the great fish of the seas. The mariners needed something to occupy their time besides shipside work.

With the Gardeners came the Phihid. While there were warriors growing in the armor, the Gardeners also brought along more diplomatic Phihid, who cast calming pollen to ease negotiations, and scouts who smelled the air to try and determine the nature of these new beings.

When on land, the Gardeners began by ladling tea into a great bone bowl, lined with mud. They set this bowl onto a wooden platform, surrounded with small bone cups and slices of fruit. One of the armored Gardeners, his armor a riot of Phihid colors, came forward carrying the platter and offered the steaming tea to the alien beings ashore. If tried, the fruits were sweet, the tea spicy but strong and bitter.

The Garden - The Poison Ring

The great armored beetles, lacking immunity to poison, were gassed to death when they endeavored to devour the great colonies of the Phihid or to cross the Ring to attack the seaside colony of the Sligs. The ring could not prevent dedicated flyers from crossing at the waterline, or well above the trees, but they did their best to do their god given duty. When the Gardeners saw the corpses and devastation, they brought one of the corpses to Shadow, who advised them to carve up the carapace with acid and use it for tools, armor, and shelter. Phihid society had not yet adapted to develop an honor code around leaving the survivors of an Obelisk attack, preferring to attack the weak. Perhaps that would change in time. And perhaps in time a fear of these great conclaves of flowers would be bred into the great beetles.

Piedwald - Colonization Continues

The Phihid continued to spread inland into the continents of Piedwald, finally coming to the great forests. There they climbed the trees to nestle in any sunny spots between the leaves and continued to expand into this peaceful place. They cast their scents of communication, deals being made, territorial boundaries being set. And the kikiri followed, becoming a common sight within the forests.

Abdita - A Wide Net

The lands of Abdita were dryer and less friendly than those of Piedwald, preventing the large towns and colonies growing on that continent. The Phihid needed time to adapt to this landscape, and as of yet were existing in barbarism and small enclaves, each driving down their roots to seek water.

Blackleaf - The Dream Garden

New arrivals to the Garden. Roots from another plane, wending in and imposing Law on the land of Dream. Well, Blackleaf wasn't interested in the Dream being subjected to universal laws, but it would be un-neighborly not to respond to the originator of these roots in kind. Blackleaf had an idea for a law, and a way to implement it. Long had Blackleaf been cultivating souls in the Garden, and now the time had come to allow them to grow into the realms beyond. Blackleaf began with a simple creeper. One which would wind around the roots and strangle out the songs of law. One which would follow the roots home, and create a thorny barrier across the portals created by the world tree. These thorns dragged at any spirit passing out of the Wending, tearing at them and weakening them if they left the Labyrinth.

2 held + 10 rollover x2 = 12
-5 Create Greater Utility Artifact (Bless/Curse): Blackleaf's Garden (Evil - Vengeance)
-0 (from artifact) Curse: Subvert the Planar Law in the Dream Garden
-1 Curse: The Thorns of Death (Evil - Vengeance)
-2 Create Advanced Concept: Poison Mastery (War- Cunning)

4 remain

Feathersnow

2021-10-12, 08:22 AM

Slingid
The Combine

The cities of the Combine continued to grow, and the methods they learned were quickly adopted by the heretics of Slin-Thirthu...

As the needs of infrastructure increased, a new technology was revealed by the Preparing Knife. Woven cables could be used for many purposes, especially bridges, but they could be combined with towers to create buildings that were massive, yet contained little material and were quick to repair or dismantle.

They were also even more useful for the growing trade ships of the fleets. Eslecially for controlling sails, but these advanced cables were harnessed for harpoons to hunt sea monsters off the coast of Krillix, occasionally leading to conflicts with Rekexi raiders.

Then a vision came from the Condor Sequoia. A new science that enhanced the use of the neglected craft of metallurgy and the new skill of gaffing. It relied on mathematics and all but required the previous gift of formal measurements.

With this "engineering," a great palace district was raised in the place of the wooden longhouses in the center of Ckre Hive City. They were things of metal hoops, wood poles, tarps, cable, and thatch, but, in scale, they dwarfed the great ziggurats of Cartisia seen by the furthest traders by the most adventurous of cadres of the most ambitious Te'ivosks.

And so, the Combine advanced.

The Golden City

In the place set aside for the eldest Sligs in the Wending, more came to join their foremother. Soon, they began to build a society, freer and grander than their old home in Piedwald. Each worker was as a Queen, and the Queens were only slightly grander.

New ideas slowly filtered in from the newly deceased. And their city prospered. But, in time, they sought more. And so the new society, ordered not into cadres but "pods" like their animal ancestors, ventured back into the dark forest and beyond...

And, so, they found, at long last, the w
Wellspring, and were among the first outsiders to hear the sound of banjos...

0+5 AP

Create Mundane concept- cables (artifact use)
They have great tensile strength!

Create Advanced concept- engineering 1AP (reduced by artifact)
The science of building smarter, not harder
Law (Elegance) 4/10

Create Legendary Society- The Golden City
A society of Prepared located in the Wending. Organized into "pods" based on personal affinity.
Law (Elegance) 8/10

Gunhaven

2021-10-14, 12:56 AM

The Island of Gourmands
For a generation, Chakta existed within their forest and simply observed. The Mchwa came and left with new recipes and tales of far off lands. As more ingredients were brought back to the island it became clear that there was a problem of climate. Using their Cauldron, though, the Mchwa were able to bless their land in the most literal sense. Sand was mixed with soil and worked into algae fields which seemed to grow just the right way for whatever was further grown from such blessed land. Future expeditions brought some of the sand from their home island, which carried this blessing, and worked it into their farms to spread it.

But the Ten Thousand Toilers grew restless. They decided to gift their home island two things before they skittered away to other locales. The first was a small hive of ants that the Boisterous Bounty helped guide to nest upon the first Halessian who offered to wear said gift. Once completed the hive became immutable as it took the form of a classic chef’s hat. The ants toiled away for the one that wore it, fetching spices from some unknown part of said hive, and chittering recipes that would work with the ingredients available.

The second gift was something that most people would think was insidious. It started with some strange rumors of some of the Mchwa wasting perfectly good ingredients in rituals that didn’t do anything. When asked about it they insisted that sprinkling salt in a circle around their boats would help ensure they completed their journey or that tossing a handful of spices would cleanse the camp of evil. The Cultivating Cauldron heard the mutterings when they were gifting the hat and toiled away on something to make the rituals do something.
Capsaicin and piperine were the start, especially when mixed with alcohol, of turning the superstitions into something useful. From this base the gift was created: a brew that would change the one who drank it into something closer to the Ten Thousand Toilers. This was the real second gift, something that could change the disparate groups of the Mchwa into something more unified. It was a gift, though, and only for those gourmands that wanted their patron’s gift.

Starting AP: 6 + 4 Rollover
Artifact Charges Kupikia Doa: 1/1
0 AP Bless - Mchanga - The island that the Mchwa are based out of is blessed to always be the right climate for whatever product is brought back. Tomatoes grow next to mangos without issue where the Mchwa set up fields. Using Kupikia Doa
2 AP Raise Hero - Mpishi - More a title than physically changing an individual, the badge of office is a chef’s hat made of bark and dirt which houses a small hive of ants. The ants, inexplicably, mention recipes that work with the ingredients available and tend to produce spices that would help bring out the best parts of the dish. Going towards Magic (Azure/Blue Magic)
2 AP Bless - Sumu - Sometimes using ingredients in superstitious rituals produces actual results. Oftentimes this comes in the form of using products that are actually poisonous (like peppers or alcohol or potatoes) in some sort of brew to whatever the superstition is about. The classic example is salt circles keeping out evil beings. Counters Superstitions (https://forums.giantitp.com/showsinglepost.php?p=25222622&postcount=141). Going towards Nature (Venom)
2 AP Create Legendary Subrace - Kifukofuko - More a template to be applied to Race level species (Legendary races are simply too powerful to receive the blessing) Kifukofuko’s most unifying trait is their chitinous exoskeleton and ability to communicate via pheromones and it’s this ability that makes them more than just insectile abominations. They have their own pheromones to use for communication but are able to mimic other race’s as well. Finally each race gains a special boost, with Halessian Kifukofuko gaining venomous fangs and Rekexi Kifukofuko becoming more like a Mantis Shrimp. Going towards Nature (Venom)

Ending AP: 4, no artifact charge.

The Garden - Sweet Fruits and Bitter Tea

For a time, the Gardeners on ship watched the creatures on shore. Normally, Gardeners were a cautious people, but those who took to the seas were the more adventurous of that jungle race. Hearing the call across the waves, some discussion was had about the food. The Gardeners had been rendering fat for waterproofing and to trap bugs. They were not used to boiling their fruity meals, but were used to teas and ointments. An interesting concept to try.

Still, about two dozen Gardeners donned armor and lowered themselves into smaller shore ships, which they rowed to the land gathering. With them they brought fruits and incense, pots of fats and paints, herbs to reduce pain, and a hot pot of stimulating tea, kept warm by sandwiching embers between two clay pots, and carried on handles of ornately carved bones from the great fish of the seas. The mariners needed something to occupy their time besides shipside work.

With the Gardeners came the Phihid. While there were warriors growing in the armor, the Gardeners also brought along more diplomatic Phihid, who cast calming pollen to ease negotiations, and scouts who smelled the air to try and determine the nature of these new beings.

When on land, the Gardeners began by ladling tea into a great bone bowl, lined with mud. They set this bowl onto a wooden platform, surrounded with small bone cups and slices of fruit. One of the armored Gardeners, his armor a riot of Phihid colors, came forward carrying the platter and offered the steaming tea to the alien beings ashore. If tried, the fruits were sweet, the tea spicy but strong and bitter.

The Garden - Sweet Fruits and Bitter Tea
The explorers had no weapons or other means of protection, just simple clothes and farming implements. The gifts were accepted with no hesitation and consumed with thanks. In exchange they offered sushi (most of which took the form of Temaki) and a stew that they had started with some of the local plants they gathered.
While they ate someone casually worked the stew and said to the Gardeners ”Come, you can speak too! The Boisterous Bounty has gifted kitchens with a shared language!” There were several nods in agreement as someone else said to the Gardener nearest them ”Can you tell us how you made such delicious tea? Us gourmands are only as good as our ingredients and recipes, after all.”

canjowolf

2021-10-14, 11:58 PM

Gunhaven

2021-10-21, 07:54 AM

The Garden - Sweet Fruits and Bitter Tea

The Gardeners look at each other, fingers flashing and ears twitching. The scent of curiosity hangs in the air. Then one makes sound, like a whisper following the wind through the trees. "The tea, it is made by boiling leaves. One cauldron, ever burning, it remembers the leaves of the past. The bitterness of the losses of the past. The strength of those who came before. Time, story, ritual, selective breeding, friendship, these are the ingredients of a good tea. We have many dried leaves stored on ship. We can show you how to cook it, how to drink it. Energy from the sun, energy from the leaf, planning for the future, remembering for the past".

The gardeners accepted the sushi, picking at it and stuffing most of it into their armor, only just tasting a bit of the rice. The local plants they similarly sampled, storing much of it as well within their armor. The stew they similarly picked at, spearing any fruit within with small wooden sticks to disappear into mouths hidden behind their trunks, and sipping the fluid. They also speared any pieces of meat or fish within and stuffed these pieces into their armor. Even the remaining fluid they poured into pouches in their armor in the end, the steam disappearing into the pouches as well.

From the jungle came the howls of the wild beasts.
The Garden - Sweet Fruits and Bitter Tea
There’s smiles and nods as they listen to the explanation followed by whispers among the travelers. They largely ignore the eating habits of the Gardeners, assuming on some level that it’s just how they do it in this strange land. The one who’s accepted the head position bows slightly and says ”We’ll gladly accept any knowledge, friends!” A second pot was started for the future leaves as a group was loosely formed to join the Gardeners.
The main group, though, looked out at the land. The one stirring the stew bashfully said ”A shame we won’t be able to set up any sort of long term camp. The group that went out further into the jungle have yet to wake up.” They didn’t blame the natives but assumed they’d probably be able to help the group set up some sort of farm or at least a dock.

Gathering up Lost Flocks
Chakta left their small island home and began to explore the planet they found themselves on. The listless were given a mission, much like the Halessian were, and small villages sprung up as far flung races began to work together in fields and off coasts. These small groups, never bigger than a small town and often just a hamlet, found their fields always providing enough food for any visitors. Even the home base was barely a large town in the scheme of things, with most Mchwa opting to travel from place to place while avoiding the deep sea and the monsters that call it home as best as they could.

A Hive Reborn
There was a pair of races that were given special attention, creatures born from wasps and moths. They were apparently Venuxi and Ghilliandi, according to themselves, who were in turn created by another god. Supposedly they were to be hunters, uplifted by their god from insects and given more humanoid forms. Much like they had done with every race they came across that had lost touch with a deity they took a small portion for themselves. Eventually they were all turned into Kifukofuko as a means to turn them into forms closer to what they were born from and so that the hive could best work together.
The Venuxi Kifukofuko are pony sized yellowjackets whose front legs serve as hands. The Ghilliandi Kifukofuko go through multiple stages of life slowly transitioning from a blister beetle to a monarch butterfly, at least as real world analogs. The males for both races serve as drones with a female of each race serving as a broodmother; the Venuxi Kifukofuko being the size of a horse while the Ghilliandi Kifukofuko forever stuck as a pony sized beetle with the same coloration as a monarch butterfly. The female Ghilliandi Kifukofuko ultimately leaves the nest to lure potential food sources back to the nest, appearing like a Thri-Kreen that sprouted butterfly wings. The female Venuxi Kifukofuko have stingers that, if the victim is lucky, kill the target quickly and, if the victim is unlucky, will change them into a Kifukofuko.

Starting AP: 4 + 4 Rollover
Artifact Charges Kupikia Doa: 1/1
0 AP Bless - Fadhila - The villages of the Mchwa find their fields always producing enough food to feed whatever races happen to live nearby. The greatest evidence of this is when Mchwa find themselves feeding another village or a large race, such as the Sauropods. Using Kupikia Doa
2 AP Form Racial Society - Nyigu - Currently formed from the Kifukofuko of the Venuxi and Ghilliandi the Nyigu will ultimately serve as a collection of those changed by the Ten Thousand Toilers. Going towards Nature (Venom)

Ending AP: 6, no artifact charge

Feathersnow

2021-10-21, 08:19 AM

Slin-Thirthu

The Dreadnought fleet of Slin-Thirthu were built to carry a single lowly passenger each, but dozens of tiny crew. Entire cadres, and not the least of such, tasked with transportation of the mighty Seadrinkers to Piedwald.

For the Sligs, it was a homecoming, their ancestors were religious pilgrims fled to exercise their faith in the Calling. For the Seadrinkers, it was a penance, for being drafted to military service was the lowliest fate imaginable, and the promises of reward and victory could not erase the shame. For the peoples of the Kitabic cities, in was an apocalypse, for never before had their been war in their lands.

The blessed winds set by Slingid set then on the coast of Piedwald quickly, and they began to build great engines of war, though they were barely necessary. The Kitab were routed at first, until the Circle was called.

The battlefield devolved into golem versus golem, and the superior enhancements of the Circle and their living armor beat back the simpler creations of the Slig animators. But the defenders were repelled by the seige walls and punishing artillery when they tried to beat back the invasion.

And so, as the positions were established, an emissary was sent to The Combine by each side, their wayward colony and their oldest allies, locked in a death grip. .

Starting 0+5

Advanced concept: Seige Engjnes 1 AP (reduced by artifact)
Building giant moving devices to aid in attacking or defending cities.
Craft (machines) 1/10

Mundane concept: the military (artifact use)
Ordered and disciplined action by people with assigned roles makes the fighting more efficient.

canjowolf

2021-10-25, 08:53 PM

ezekielraiden

2021-10-28, 11:47 PM

Arkhos continued to brood in the land of the dead, stewing in his roiling rancor. Tranquility offered him no solace, for still a large portion of those who abided there had suffered in the Nightmare, or lost someone to it. Triumph offered him no distraction, as even its denizens knew they had been defeated in a way that could not have been opposed.

Not only had the so-called hunter--who always set up easy targets, and chided others for coddling!--left a legacy of pain and suffering, they had the audacity to then depart the circles of the world. Cruelty and cowardice and hypocrisy, a perfect storm of wickedness.

"I shall undo all you have wrought, Tahr'Thua. May there be enmity between the children of Law and the children of your foul 'hunt.'"

But first, to redress the balance. To tip the scales back the correct direction. He would create the opposite of both the disturbing voice that once was Deep and now was Beyond, and the twisted legacy of Tahr'Thua. The Empyreum.

Total AP: 20/20, because I've been neglecting this for so friggin' long

Weave Plane: The Empyrean Shore (3 AP, Good (Self-Sacrifice)). Also just "the Empyrean." I'll describe this in more detail later (maybe with an artifact Alter Land action) but simply put, it's Celestia, with a twist. The goal is not to transcend existence entirely, but to cleanse yourself of all the dark things in you (both other-destructive and self-destructive). If you succeed in this, you can return to life. There's all sorts of tests and trials and such, but (as with Tranquility and Triumph) also places to rest and heal. The dead and the living may mingle here, but it is primarily a place for the dead who wish to live a new life. Those who stay in the Wending are instead looking for eternal rest, or actually wishing to depart existence entirely. Despite the name, it has a variety of climates, but it does have a coast bordering an ocean.

Create Portal: The Continuing Adventure (2 AP, Good (Self-Sacrifice)). Connects between the Empyrean Shore and Tranquility and Triumph. The Door of Day and Night and the Continuing Adventure are both located on the line between the two halves of Tranquility and Triumph, the former more southerly, the latter more northerly (or whatever passes for these concepts in the Wending). Each acts as a bridge which, from the side, appears to fade out in mid-air, but from the front, it clearly connects through to a bridge in another plane. Beings are free to pass in either direction, but...

Curse: The Commitment (1 AP, Travel (Adventure)). Any dead spirit (that is, a person who has died and had soul and spirit separated)--whether it comes from Arkhos' flock or not--that consciously and willingly crosses the bridge into the Empyrean cannot cross it again without being broken down. Any spirit that reaches the Empyrean via some other method, or if for any reason it is coerced (even the coercion of "running from danger" etc.), is unaffected by this curse and can return to the Wending. Further, any spirit that returns to the Wending via any other method is likewise unaffected by this curse. Beings that are not the spirits of dead individuals are completely unaffected.

Bless: Eternal Return (free, discounted by artifact). As noted above, this is what enables those who journey through the Empyrean to return to life as a new, embodied person. The more internal "spring cleaning" a person does in the Empyrean, the more they will retain of their past lives. It is theoretically possible to remember almost everything, but seeing as how most folks have all sorts of small issues they forget about over time, it's very rare for a spirit to return to life with absolutely perfect recall of their past lives. For most, it takes the form of visions, dreams, or being unusually quick to pick up skills and knowledge they possessed in a previous life. This process can theoretically happen repeatedly, but for "frequent fliers," more-distant lives usually become harder and harder to remember, like repeatedly making a photocopy of a photocopy. For the particularly dedicated spirit, it is possible to improve recall of past lives as well, but much harder because there are extra layers of forgetting involved.

Remaining AP: 14/20

Domain progress:
Travel (Adventure) 7/10
Good (Self-Sacrifice) 5/10
Nobility (Virtue) 1/10

Feathersnow

2021-10-29, 12:44 PM

The Combine and the war

Bistr Te'ivosk was tasked to defend the Combine from attacks by either side, for both emissaries assumed it was only a matter of time before the Sligs of the Combine turned on them.

Their great architect, Bistr'Khram used his new ideas to build defensive walls around the cities. Then he thought bigger. Working directly with She-Who-Is-Ever-A-Part, he devised a magic powerhouse to provide a deterrent from attack. The Colossus.

This mobile tower is painted with fearsome imagery and has recordings of bone-chilling chants blaring from it. The parapet houses snipers and ballistae, and the base simply crushes things. It is surrounded by smoke that is used by fumomancers as a point defense system against missile attacks while animators repair it even as it is damaged.

Soon, his ideas were tested, as KItabic and Circle Refugees fled into the hives, telling tales of the relentless Jannisary Strain, a slime monster that abused their sacred arts and devoured their dead.

These refugees were granted asylum, which enraged the Slin-Thirthuans, but not as much as once they realized they were abusing the neutrality of the Combine to build weaponized constructs to raid occupied territory. The most feared of this was called simply "Shrykul" and it was said to scream enough to shake the minds of its victims to jelly.

2AP- Raise Hero- Bistr'Khram, the great builder
A member of the Combine tasked with the arming of the previously peaceful Combine following the invasion of Kitab by Slin-Thirthu.
His notable achievements include the adoption of concrete composites instead of tents and wood in the walls of Core Hive and the creation, with the help of The Pontifex, of The Collosus.

Craft (Machine) 3/10

2 AP- Raise Hero- Verdigris, The Jannisary Strain
A series of replicas of an unusually magically powerful and intelligent thallid who invented and works seige engines for Slin-Thirthu.
Like all thallids, each mobile instance of Verdigris is a disposable copy and the true individual is a root system, in this case cultured from the flesh of murdered Circle members and Kitabic Truesmiths.

Craft (Machine) 5/10

3 AP- Create minor combat artifact- The Collosus
A walking seige tower incorporating everything the Combine and Circle know about magic, including using smoke defensively as a crude force field.

Craft (Machine) 8/10

1 AP- (reduced by artifact) create advanced concept- Architecture

The science of engineering and tools of mathematics and measuremeny were put towards the creation of buildings by the hero Bistr'Khram.

Craft (Machine) 9/10

1 AP- create monstrous life- The Shrykul
Circle Refugees created abominations of necromancy as weapons, combining True Tempered metals and pieces of farm animals into psionical powerful and disposable shock troops.

Craft (Machine) 10/10
Portfolio gained!
Slingid ascends!

Artifact use- create mundane concept-
Concrete
This substance was a key to many of Bistr'Khram's breakthroughs

Gunhaven

2021-10-29, 09:15 PM

Tea and Culture - The Garden Shore

The speaker, having started to speak, spurts a flow of words like a river "Yes. Dangerous, the jungle. Poison. Fang. Claws. The Call to Dream. Rare for the whole group to dream together. Maybe Blackleaf likes you. Maybe it is because you are new. Maybe it is because you don't know how to resist the call to dream, as we all resist the call to drown. The call to drown, it is in the mind. Overpowered with will, as cayenne overpowers paprika. The call to dream though, it is of the flesh. Willpower delays the call, but not forever. Season the flesh properly with poison, and the spirits won't call you to the Dream. Unpalatable.

We are sea people, not jungle people, but we have... marinade that will help. Boiled fish fat, mixed with special herbs. It calls the big cats, and the great beetles don't mind it, but it scares off everything else. The apes. The hogs. The wolves and the bears. The dream-callers. Lovers with a sense of smell. Even the biting insects. It won't help you wake. Need the god bargainers for that, to buy the soul from Blackleaf before it planted in the garden. We have dust that makes smoke's fire shimmer like the sun. Put some on at night, and the jungle dwellers will come, they all might have god dreamers.

If their price is too high, we have powder, like strong tea. Sometimes works to pull from the dream. Sometimes kills. Kills the weak-hearted. Kills the long asleep, burns too much of their fuel and their fires go out. Tea helps too, but can't give tea to the sleeping. They drown. Other things, all bad, all too late or too dangerous to give once you fall asleep. We have things to help with some poisons. Smells to scare the cats. Nothing scares the beetles. Paints to hide from jungle eyes. You will not hide from jungle noses. What do you have to trade?"

Meanwhile, deep in the jungle, Shadow was overseeing the evolution of apes. Something to keep the Gardeners company. Large, strong, tough, and aggressive. They would be the Pruners, to remove harmful weeds. But they weren't ready yet. Still too stupid to understand their purpose. Still too selfish. Dreams too small. Shadow would nurture them. Cull the foolish and feed the wise. It was Shadow's way.

4 held + 5 rollover = 9
Tea and Culture - The Garden Shore
There was a shudder as the representatives listened to the tale, sad for the loss of the first group but nodding along as they heard of potential solutions. The momentary lapse in mood was washed away, though, at the thought of trade. A brief discussion among the chefs and then they returned to their tea, setting down a bag in between the two groups. The leader motioned to the bag and said ”We might not have tea but we have food. We can teach how to raise as well, it’s only fair. You taught us about tea, we can teach about stews and how to prepare food.”
Inside the bag was spices of varying degrees of hotness, which they explained would help with superstitious practices. But more unique than that was how they could harvest gills from the fish they gathered and, at least for a time, grow a pair of their own if eaten raw. Such gifts were for the individual and not for the whole, since otherwise they’d have to use ground fish scales in a dough and that would stave off the effects of drowning instead of preventing it.

Gardens on the Sea
Slowly word circulates of great beasts of the sea and how the Gardeners avoid the jungles. Some of the Mchwa, practical as they are, take the advice literally and begin the process of poisoning the flesh to protect themselves. Their boats are large masses of kelp and moss that have been infused with poisons before being grown into a barge shape. These ships then have fields of their own grown on them until they serve as floating villages between the outposts that they’ve popped up in the first wave of exploration.

Starting AP: 6 + 4 Rollover
Artifact Charges Kupikia Doa: 1/1
0 AP Bless - Mashau - Using their cauldron the Mchwa are able to slowly grow barges to sail the sea on. They, almost like the Gardener’s ships, are living beings but are composed of mundane plants. Using Kupikia Doa
2 AP Bless - Mwani - The Mashau have poisons worked into their hull that help dissuade hostile creatures from approaching the Mchwa on board. On the off chance that they are attacked, their toxins are lethal enough to dissuade almost everything from trying again (assuming they serve the first contact). Countering Sea Kings (https://forums.giantitp.com/showsinglepost.php?p=25226390&postcount=153) Advancing Nature (Venom)
2 AP Create Mythical Subconcept - Xenoalchemy - The art of gaining physical powers based on what you eat. A subconcept for Gourmet that is more selfish, focusing on the individual eating versus feeding a group of individuals. Advancing Magic (Azure/Blue)

Ending AP: 6, no artifact charge

MrAbdiel

2021-10-30, 12:49 AM

For an age, the Carnifactor brumated within the deep places of the Wending. Indeed, one a generation of Nechustani were raised up amid this quietude sufficient to fill out the Collective city’s poorer districts, and to overflow the borders of the Nuarahan; and during this time, the Prophet of Arah-Huana had precious little to communicate. It was a schisming of his people that stirred him; the sensation of illicit access to his power drawing him out of hiding and into active observation of his world, and his realm again. First, of course, was the duty of the Midwife; and she dutifully pressed a spark of the serpent’s intention through the matrix of the Perdition Sluice to send a gleaming new weapon into the world. This one, in its intention, was to permit the Nechustani to expand their borders some, compromising a little more of Abdita’s plains biome to accommodate more warm, nurturing desert. But this was not to be the case.

As the Nechustani in the Nuarahan began to build in earnest on the surface for the first time, out of the gravid womb of the desert were born not one great people, but two. The first were the bulk of the Nechustani, adopting a national identity as the Nechistani-Nuaraha’Kha; the Kingdom of the Black Sands. Asphodel Born-To-Glory was a Nechustani with every expected attribute of a king: physical brawn and stature, emotional depth and wisdom, and a heart full of cold ambition reaching up for the warmth of the sun. It was his hand clasping around the hilt of the undrawn Queenblade that tore it free of the stone, and in that action he became not only a hero of Nechustani legend, but also the first King of the Black Sands: Asphodel Reigns-In-Power.

But not all his people were pleased at the shift of their traditional clans towards singular, overbearing rulership. Soshani Carves-The-Way, the once-lover of Asphodel turned bitter detractor, lead a coalition of disenfranchised clans out of the black sands and into the golden dunes. There, they discovered more than they had hoped to: delivered to Soshani from Arah’Huana on a plunging spear of light, a Fang of her own. This blade possessed within it a knowledge of magics that permitted Soshani and a coalition of her close advisors power over the sands and all the mystery within them; yet despite this divine gift, she spurned service of the Godfather directly just as she had spurned the kingdom at her back. She called the blade Namestealer, declaring to the night sky that any who would seek to cage or corral the free clans would be struck not just from this world, but from the records of all time.

Over the next few decades, the Nechustani experienced a surging rush of progress and proliferation. No longer a gaggle of disunited tribes being lapped in the civilization race by the other peoples, the Kingdom began rapidly learning and integrating the advancements that many other races had long taken for granted: the way of building with stones, the craft and production of metal goods and fine pottery, and innumerable necessary skills to make the Kingdom sufficient. Likewise, the Nechustani Dunecutter clans grew in skill and tactics, sufficient to begin raiding the settlements of the kingdom, and even the Venuxi hives to the far south. With her mastery of the sands, Soshani’s ambition did not cease there - and the inhabitants of the First World’s great landmasses would be dismayed to discover huge tracts of land rapidly ceasing to become arable, then becoming fine sand deserts, and finally those deserts disgorging from them the pale elf raiders on their sandskiffs, who roamed and dominated these fixed and lasting deserts and even further, when the land itself distorted to extend the desert in long striking tendrils of supernaturally contorted biome just long enough to permit raids beyond those desert borders. These elves naturally conjoured up the old fears of the Wild Hunt, and the raiders from the mist; though some exposure to them would teach the other people that they were not beyond negotiation, and not mad for blood as much as profit. Indeed, the addition of highly mobile, martially excellent and tactically devious mercenary clans may begin to sound worth the price, for those engaged in struggles for survival.

19 AP, and just in time to spend some before rollover.

1 AP - To finish off the Combined City (Community (Empire) 1/10)

The Collective, the city at the base of the Black Peak, is a thriving multicultural hub benefiting from an assortment of blessings from various gods. It now has a demographic bubble of Nechustani, slowly becoming culturally advanced enough to compete with the other races.

0 AP Bless (Perdition Sluice) - Fruitful Generation for the Nechustani

Nechustani all over the world have an explosively fruitful generation, providing numbers for their surging new societies and then some.

2 AP Create Minor Artifact Weapon (Midwife of Blades) - Sobra-Vash, the Namestealer (Desert (Survivalism) 2/10)

Sobra-Vash was designed by the Midwife of Blades to be the weapon of a frontier keeper, but it his become the signature armament of a raider queen. An ever sharp, flashing scimitar, this blade bestows on its bearer the capacity to intuitively learn and teach the manipulation of deserts and sands by magical affinity. Like all Fangs of Arah-Huana, this one also has an inherent martial art form - and it features in the Dunecutter clans, who fall upon their victims in a hurricane of dervish strikes from their own scimitars.It has the unusual quality of imparting historical obscurity to those slain by it. Victims of the blade are more easily mourned and forgotten by their loved ones; headstones blur, historical records decay, and events conspire to plunge them into the midnight of ignorance.

2 AP Create Society - Nuaraha’Kha, Kingdom of the Black Sands (Community (Empire)3/10)

The first great Kingdom of the Nechustani if one discounts the forgotten city, this empire of black volcanic stone buildings and is made possible only by the learned (and stolen) knowledges of other races, adopted and perfected for use in the desert. The use of Amalomancy to create wells and oases has made it possible for the Nechustani to live en masse on the surface for the first time - whether this bodes good or ill for the world, none can say.

2 AP Create Society - Dunecutter Clans (Desert (Survivalism) 4/10)

A great society of mercenaries and raiders who reject the authority of King Asphodel Reigns-In-Power, and who promote the adaptation and ongoing dispersion of authority amongst traditional clans. While many villages and towns within the Kingdom hold greater allegiance to the Dunecutter clans, their true power resides in their armada of sandskiffs - sleek, small ships enchanted with Amalomancy to carve through sand like a ship carves through water under a glorious headwind. Ranging from single crewed craft that are little more than a sailboard steered with one hand to grand swooping yachts bearing many Nechustani raiders, the sight of such a fleet racing toward one’s town on a unfurling streak of manifesting desert sand is a good indication that one might avoid suffering by locking themselves inside their house, and leaving an offering of their more valuable goods on their doorstep. The alternative is hard fighting, and the risk of pointless death.

1 AP Alter Land - Create Desert in Piedwald (Darkness (Ambush) 8/10)

Conjured forth by Sobra-Vash at the behest of Soshani Carves-The-Way, a desert surges into being on the continent of Piedwald. It’s located on the southern rim, displacing a swathe of forest.
1 AP Alter Land - Create Desert in Sauropod Land (Darkness (Ambush) 9/10)

Conjured forth by Sobra-Vash at the behest of Soshani Carves-The-Way, a desert surges into being on the continent of the Sauropods. It is located on the northern coast, near to the peninsula from Krillix.

1 AP Alter Land - Create Desert in the Drum (Darkness (Ambush) 10/10)

Conjured forth by Sobra-Vash at the behest of Soshani Carves-The-Way, a desert surges into being on the continent of Cartisia. It is located on the southern inside of the ring, on land rising up adjacent to the mountain range.

2 AP Create Magical Sub-Concept - Amalomancy (Sand Magic) (Desert (Survivalism) 6/10)

Amalomancy is the magic of deserts, sand, mystery, ambush, and misdirection. Learned first by Soshani Carves-The-Way and then taught to her companions, it permits the predictable set of controls over sand as well as a number of unusual functions: notably, the ability to strongly influence the composite elements of a desert one is in (for example, creating sandstorms, changing wind direction, summoning an oasis, drying up wells), and with the effort of a coalition of casters, the ability to temporarily ‘push’ the boundaries of a fixed desert into an extruded tendril of that biome that will restore to its natural type over time. These powers permit the Nechustani raiding clans to spear out from their deserts on a temporary ‘road’ of sand, bringing their home-ground advantage with them where they raid.

1 AP Bless - Golden Age of the Nechustani (Community (Empire) 4/10)

All societies with a heavy population of Nechustani begin rapidly learning everything they can from their contact with other cultures, and integrating it into their own. This means an especially rapid adoption of Mundane concepts, and a non-trivial acceleration in their capacity to learn advanced concepts by exposure.

2 AP Create Hero - Asphodel Reigns-In-Power (Community (Empire) 6/10)

The first King of the Black Sands, Asphodel is an icon of Nechustani ascendancy and moderated imperial authority. He weilds the Queenblade, a Fang of Arah-Huana drawn from a sacred stone in the Nuarahan desert at the inauguration of the Kingdom. With it, he has founded and taught the primary martial school of fighting for the Nechustani - the mastery of the hand-and-a-half sword, sometimes with shield, always in integrated maneuver with other wielders nearby. He is a reasonable man, with a leash on his own ambitions; only sometimes caught in a moment of melancholy at the departure of his lover Soshani.

2 AP Create Hero - Soshani Carves-The-Way (Desert (Survivalism) 8/10)

The raider-queen of the Dunecutter clans, and mother of the sand-sorcery that is key to the ascendancy of both the free clans and also the Kingdom behind her. Despite leading an armada of violent raiders who have rapidly gained the capacity to strike and pillage across much of the First world, she is neither particularly imperial in mindset, nor instinctively cruel. She is just as happy to be bribed as to lead a raid, and is happiest when she can provide for her people with extortive mercenary contracts, fighting someone else’s battles for them. She wields the Namestealer, and gods help those who fall to its edge.

1 AP Blessing - Sandstorm Convergence (Desert (Survivalism) 9/10)

Deserts wherever they exist begin to manifest strange, electrical sandstorms distinct in their violence and sudden onset. These storms always come in pairs - one in each of two different deserts, carving the sandscape into an identical folding of dunes and supernaturally forcing the space to overlap so that hardy travellers (or those with the appropriate magic) may deliberately or accidentally cross half the world and then end up stranded on another continent. Keen researchers will discover that the frequency of these storms, and their translocative properties, can be discerned from the movement of the stars with a decent degree of accuracy.

1 AP Curse - The Hungry Dunes (Desert (Survivalism) 10/10)

Deserts across the First World gain a bizarre pseudo-life. Their general shape is still fixed, but their edges have an unstable, irregular ebb and flow that would look hypnotically undulating if viewed from above over a long enough period of time. For those who have to live in the world, it means that a desert a hundred miles away might spend six months slowly ‘reaching’ out towards one’s village and crops, only to retract over that same period of time to the relief of everyone involved - except perhaps the Dunecutters, whose magic permits them to use such extruded biomes as launching points for their raids. The deserts aren’t genuinely ‘hungry’; they aren’t seeking anything or trying to destroy anything, but the clumsy, random ‘movement’ of the edges of this territory is devastating to unprepared colonies and advantageous only to those who are specifically desert adapted.

0AP Remaining, Desert (Survivalism) and Darkness (Ambush) gained. Love (Devotion) at 1/10 still, and Community (Empire) at 6/10.

Feathersnow

2021-10-30, 05:58 PM

Tloc In Krillix

Tloc sailed his boat to a land that was barely a land, a land no outsider had seen. Krillix.

As always, the Empire was in a barely contained state of near civil war. But now, things had changed. Or rather, hadn't. The Great Crab had fallen silent, and the constant struggle had grown stale. Even the principle actors felt their struggles had become stale and pointless now each war ended in the same state as the previous regime.

Tloc went to the capital and he started to build a great spire with his magic. And he said to any who would ask.
"We come and we go, but The Work continues"

By the time his golem had finished the first floor, every day brought a crowd.

By the time they had built the second, the gawkers had started to help.

By the time the spire was done, a revolution had overcome Krillix. Through the old bard, the Grand Sawyer had brought linear progress where once there was cyclic chaos.

And Slingid smiled on the people forgotten by their creator. He could not give them longevity, for their bodies were not the stern stuff of Sligs, but he could help them make more of the time they had.

He struck the tower with lightning and it turned to gold, living like coral. And each living polyp shed a tiny midge that spread the new thing across the land.

And the Rekexi were changed too. Their soul energy would carry memories of the fallen to their brethren like the midge-eggs of the air coral.

0+6

3 AP- Create minor artifact (Blessing)- The Living Gold Tower

Community (mental connection)3/10

Artifact use- Blessing- gestalt recollection
When a Rekexi dies, the things they knrw will be easier for future Rekexi to learn.

1 AP Create monstrous life- Golden Coral

The Golden Coral has a skeleton of gold instead of stone and their larvae are like midges.

Community (mental connection) 4/10

2 AP remain

Gunhaven

2021-11-02, 02:12 AM

Restructuring a Race
The change was subtle but slowly the Nyiga started to drift further and further from their base races. The first change was when their larva became one, what were soon known as Buu, that would then grow into either a female Venuxi Kifukofuko or a Ghilliandi Kifukofuko depending on how they were cared for. The female Venuxi Kifukofuko then started to implant Buu into races that were outside their ability to infect with the Kifukofuko venom. From these larva two more races were born, both male (as far as one can tell when it comes to insects): the Mzinga were bees the size of dogs that mirrored the Venuxi Kifukofuko in combat but lacked their ability to spread their race, instead focusing on paralyzing victims like the Ghilliandi Kifukofuko (without the ability to lure victims to their demise) and the Nyuki who are ants of about the same size as the Mzinga and serve as caretakers for the Nyiga and Buu. Slowly the male versions of the Kifukofuko disappeared within the hive, the odd ones born from Buu eventually were fed to a new generation.

The last thing that happened was the queens of Kifukofuko merged into one form, taking the form of an elephant sized wasp with monarch butterfly wings. She took the name Malkia and She would be responsible for ensuring the hive would prosper. With this final act the insects that made up Chakta broke apart and were quickly fed to the Buu by the Nyuki. The divine energy that made up the deity faded into the stars above, no longer allowed to crawl across the world. Such was acceptable to Them, because this new place allowed Them to observe Their creations.

https://drive.google.com/file/d/1QaIe2DpmjGTa52ppxgOlxu-1KBRY5EIf/view?usp=sharing

Starting AP: 6 + 4 Rollover
Artifact Charges Kupikia Doa: 1/1

3 AP Create Avatar - Malkia - Queen of the Nyiga and mortal embodiement of the Ten Thousand Toilers. She takes the form of a wasp with monarch wings that is easily the size of an elephant. Advancing Magic (Azure)
1 AP Create Monster - Buu - The asexual larva in the newly restructured Nyiga hive and what's produced by a Venuxi Kifukofuko infecting something not at a racial level. Especially large creatures might produce multiple Buu at once. Eventually a Buu will metamorphosis into some other form depending on what they're fed. Advancing Magic (Azure)
1 AP Join Pantheon - Chakta embodies the change that a hero undergoes on their journey in the most figurative sense of the word. Advancing Magic (Azure)
2 AP Create Race - Mzinga - The most basic form of a Buu's evolution, Mzinga resemble bees blown up to the size of golden retrievers. All Mzinga are male and serve as footsoldiers for the Nyiga hive, with their venom having a light paralytic effect that is most notable when multiple Mzinga attack the same target. Advancing Nature (Venom)
1 AP Create Subrace - Nyuki - An offshoot of Mzinga, Nyuki resemble ants of about the same size as their cousins. Again, they're all males but serve in a mostly labor where they all lift together and work in unison to expand the colony. Their most important duty, however, is feeding the Buu and helping Malkia guide the Nyiga towards a brighter future. Advancing Magic (Azure)

Ascend to Lesser Deity. Chakta currently doesn't really have a form innn spppaaaaaaaaaaaaaacccccccccccceeeeeeeeeeeee.

Ending AP: 2, Artifact Charge

MrAbdiel

2021-11-02, 06:46 AM

A two rows of a hundred Nechustani drummers lined the street, rhythmically pounding out the lively victorious march. But today, they flanked not a military triumph; instead, a celebration of similar pomp and ceremony.

At the end of the procession’s road, waiting for its arrival, stood Yashven-Binds-The-Hands; secondborn son of King Asphodel. Yashven’s older brother, Geordan-Earns-His-Place, had gone through just such a ceremony as this a few months ago, when the the greater Venuxi hive fell, and the lesser hives surrendered in acquiescence to Asphodel’s offer of vassalage. That ceremony had marked the end of a war which had to the Nechustani the flavor of revenge for an ancient massacre; to the Venuxi, it was a bewildering strike from old prey they never expected to see again. Asphodel had carved through the rock and resin walls of the greater hive personally, and driven the Queenblade into the heart of the broodmother within. He had hoped to find the one the Venuxi called Rebel Queen; but she was lost to the desert now. He wondered if she had been part of the war at all. But the Venuxi were primative hunters, unused to being overpowered and outflanked, and the old broodmother’s successor, a maiden queen named Iyana, was given the crown of leadership by the conquering king. Not just of her recovering hive, but of all the subjugated Venuxi, whose system of broodmothering did not easily adapt to such fiat maneuvers. In time, they would adapt; for they were an adaptable people.

And just as Geordan stood with Iyana in the crowd of onlookers, so too was it Yashven’s turn to stand - with Maiden Rhea Laodicai, the Ghilliandi whom the invading desert elves had decided would be queen of all her people. This had not been an easy conquest, even less so than the Venuxi. The bipedal but noticeably insectoid Ghilliandi were a visually beautiful species, gracefully adjusting their movements across the ground with three pairs of grand, colorful gossamer wings; but every one of them was so wildly envenomed that even making peaceful contact with them had been hazardous and deadly. The Ghilliandi, like the Venuxi, were hunters at heart; but the Nechustani were survivors… and eventually, conquerers. After a series of stinging losses, King Asphodel had made several changes to the army’s strategy. They only fought when they were fighting with the wind, so the Ghillandi spores were minimally effective. Those soldiers who fought covered their skin in caked mud and fought with long spears. And every time they captured one of the rare Ghilliandi males, they locked him in a cage and bargained with disenfranchised Ghilliandi to sell him back to them, if they would form a new harem around him and side with their conquerers. In time, it had won the war. The most reasonable and socially posable candidate, Rhea, was selected and pared off from her harem. Her union to Yashven marked the end of an era for the delicate, toxic, beautiful Ghilliandi - but the beginning of a new one that, Rhea knew, did not have to be awful.

When the grand ceremonial fans were lifted aside and the two hundred drummers stopped, Rhea was revealed and Yashven, heart in his throat at the burden of duty upon him and the shadow of greatness in which he was born, looked upon her. The Ghilliandi had never had a wedding ceremony before - or atleast, the equivalent was an induction of a new female into the cartel of selecting females who jealously guarded their subordinate male. But the one-to-one pairing of individuals was a radical change for them, and the grace with which she bore it was remarkable. She was robed - itself a strangeness, for the species does not require clothing where its delicate exoskeletal plates cover feminine form adequately - in the a dress inspired by the slashed and flowing Nechustani style, adapted for her four arms, and six wings. She approached her prospective husband, and stood a few feet from him with a courtesy. It wouldn’t do for her to poison him - not yet, anyway. But he didn’t seem afraid of that - moving closer to offer one of his hands for her to hold and after a moment’s hesitation, she did so. Yashven felt a light sting of pain in his palm, but it passed quickly - his body, like most of the Nechustani who were establishing this new city, had begun to adapt to the physiology of their neighbours and prospective partners, and in a few weeks he would have no reaction to the toxin at all.

A priest of Arah-Huana began to recite the initiation vows, but the royal pairing ignored the sacred rites for long enough to speak quietly to each other.

“You are very beautiful, Maiden Rhea Laodicai. I’m… honored.” The young prince’s awkwardness was on display for her, and she read plainly the words unsaid: this does not feel natural for me either.

“And you very handsome, after the fashion of your people. I hope you wear the power you are receiving now as well as your kaftan.”

He puffed a little laugh. “You have been remarkable throughout all of this. I admire how well you have taken… losing so much.”

“Losing?” She turned her gaze briefly to the crowd. There was a sea of thousands of the pale elves basking in the sunlight; a streak of the black and orange chitin of the Venuxi here and there; and isolated from the others for safety, a grand and fantastical array of color where the Ghilliandi gathered to watch their ‘queen’ ascend. Rhea could see the faces of women she’d once feared. Rivals who had spurned her, denied her; harem sisters who had allowed her into their circle, but then kept her access to the male in whom she should rightly share limited and bounded by their petty internal laws and jagged little jealousies. All of them were her subjects now. She could walk in to any harem she liked, and take for herself a child from any male she liked. And all they could do was seethe. And curtsey. And call her queen. Not a queen, but The Queen.

“My love; you’ve given me more than you can possibly imagine.”

Create Society - Nechustani-Finae 2 AP (Community (Empire)) 8/10

Annexing the territories of the Venuxi and Ghilliandi, the Empire of the Black Sands grows. The Nechustani-Finae is the compact of Finae’s creations and the Nechustani who have moved to the southern regions of Abdita with them; and they constitute together a fearsome vassal for the Empire proper.

4 AP remaining.

Feathersnow

2021-11-02, 07:33 AM

ezekielraiden

2021-11-05, 06:57 AM

March Forth and Claim

Seth departed Tollan, and Anahuac in general, with a great deal of fanfare at his back--much to his chagrin. Like his father, he had a quiet soul, a feature which had only been honed by his many hours learning from the dead in Tranquility and Triumph. But the people could not allow Arkhos' Chosen to go without saying their farewells, and he understood how much his journey would matter to them.

Still, it was good to be away. And though he knew his journeys would take him far afield--perhaps across the breadth of the world--he knew he would not want for purpose, at least not for the time being. Arkhos had given him a mission. There were people on another island of Cartisia, a people like and yet unlike Seth's own. The children of one of Arkhos' divine siblings, who had...left the world. Exactly what that meant, Arkhos had not said. Whatever other things it might mean, it definitely did mean these people, these Halessians, had been abandoned by their creator. From what Arkhos had said, this had gone over about as well as one might expect: some enclaves held on to the hope that their divine parent would return, others responded with weeping and gnashing of teeth, and some cursed few celebrated the resulting void with wicked glee.

The flight to the island--presumably called Halessia--took longer than Seth expected. He knew Cartisia was large, but...well. He had spent most of his life in and around Tollan, only rarely travelling to its further edges. Tollan might be large, but to go almost a quarter of the way around the ring proved a far greater endeavor than expected. He had to stop and rest for a full day to allow his scarlet-plumed chamolli to rest. To his pleasure, those who had gone before him had already begun spreading the seeds of the tree-of-life, for he found several with ripened fruit, ready to be eaten by lizardman and wingbeast alike.

---

It took nearly half a cycle of Voicury--enough to see fire become ice--before he reached the near shore of the island. Compared to the great distance he had come, Halessia felt small, but perhaps so would Tollan now. He had encountered some natives of the isle, refugees fleeing toward other lands. They had shown fear of him in their serpentine faces, but he shared some fruit with them and spent a little time listening. With Arkhos' gifts, he could understand what they said, and ensure they understood him, though he had tried not to rely on such contrivances. It did him no good to see the world, to expand his horizons and fly higher, if he did so only to gaze down at the spot where he'd started. Their tongue was quite sibilant, but not radically dissimilar to the Quetzpal'in, so between gift and nature, he had the basics of their language by the time he had reached the heart of their civilization.

It was beautiful, to be sure; he could see the works of the now-absent Pythus well, clearly these people had had the art of working stone far longer, and had done amazing things with it. But he could also see the ravages of a society pushed to its breaking point.

As he passed a home in one of the outer districts of their main city (how small it felt, compared to Tollan!), he spotted a Halessian woman tending to her laundry. It seemed at first she had not seen him, as she took on a frightened look when he drew closer, and seemed torn between flight and keeping the clothes.

"Peace, good woman," Seth said. "Though I bear a sword, I come only to aid; I apologize if my strange look frightens, for I fear I cannot change it."

He was pleased that a thin smile graced her lips, though clearly she still felt out of sorts. "I'm sorry, I should not judge so. But...I saw the gleam of your sword, and...well. My husband was injured fending off brigands just last week. He still goes out to gather things we need, despite his wounds."

"May I stay, then, and see what aid I can give him? I know...a great many things, despite my few years."

Her fearful look did not diminish, but her eyes shifted, as if unsure whether she dared hope. "I...would rather you wait outside. But I could have a statue bring you water?"

He nodded, and maintained a respectful distance from the house. When she returned, a statue came with her, bearing an earthenware vessel and cup. She found a small selection of offerings from Seth--dried provisions, and some tree-of-life nuts--placed just inside the gate. He watched, enraptured, as this entity of stone, with every appearance of life, carried the two things to the gate, then returned to the house. The woman drew near, collected the provisions quickly, and then retreated. "This is...thank you."

---

Supreme Excellence Lays Not In Winning Every Battle

He spent some few days with Hratha and Shuul, learning the tale of what had occurred on Halessia. There had already been a substantial diaspora, with some even choosing to brave the dark-dream seas (particularly since its suicidal siren song had, temporarily, abated). Of those who remained, some turned to zealotry and others banditry, but many felt lost, praying to Pythus that he might return, that this all had been merely a test. Their prayers had gone unanswered. During that time, he reached within--feeling the deep power of Arkhos, and indeed other powers, the things into which Arkhos had poured his essence to make artifacts--and drew forth a new understanding, not merely of which herbs held value, but how to exploit that value most. With these prepared medicines, and Hratha's help, he treated Shuul's wounds, and even assisted the couple in finding restful sleep.

After he had learned enough, and spoken with some of his hosts' neighbors, he resolved to make changes. Over the next several days, he did as he could to repeat his offers of friendship, eventually bolstered by the testimony of friends or relations. No doubt some of his success lay in his connection to a god, for heroes are wont to fly high where others would falter, but he drew neither the Fang nor magic, instead sharing his newfound knowledge with all he came across. In time, a substantial portion of the remaining citizens knew him by name, as a friend.

Then the bandits came.

They were not hulking brutes nor skulking saboteurs, many looked as though banditry had been harder on them than trying to continue an agrarian life. Their leader, a scarred woman named Biri, did have a wiry strength to her, but even she looked haggard and pressed. This is the cost of abandonment so early, Seth thought to himself. A people adrift, splintering, self-harming. This cannot be endured.

"So," Biri said. She had called him, through messengers, to come to a market square not far from his first hosts' dwelling. "You come among us, stranger, and give gifts. Where do they come from? What catch?"

He could tell she was looking for an excuse to fight him. "Yes. I do not deny I come of Arkhos, at His will and as His word, as my mother is His word in our homeland."

"Ah, another god-child? And why should we think any more of this one than the previous? Demanded beauty and loyalty, and then left us to rot."

"I have made no demands."

She spat at his feet. "And who's to say you won't? Guilt is a subtle knife, but it'll gut you all the same."

"You all wish to know my demands? Then I shall speak them." A note of fear rose in the eyes of all watching--bandit and civilian alike, even the priests. "Your people are lost, flung to the uncaring waves or trapped in a vicious cycle. This need not be so. I come from great Tollan, the First City, and desire to build you up, that you may rise higher. Halessians are hardy, cunning and quick; I have seen it firsthand. There is a place for such folk, a place of honor and wisdom, among the Lightseekers. They would ask of you to share your light, as they will share theirs--as I have shared mine."

Biri tried to hold her ground, but divine power in a mortal voice was difficult to stand. Seth took note, however, that she (like his mother) still stood, and her voice betrayed no fear. "I said, what's the catch? Nothing is free."

"The first, that you hold nothing back: share your light with all your heart, and all your soul, and all your mind, and all your strength. And the second is like it: do unto others as you would have them do unto you, not merely restraint, not merely courtesy, but active understanding of others, that you may build them up where it is needed, and likewise they may build you." The words were not loud, but full of power.

There was a long, long silence; you could hear the gentle breeze. Biri turned to one fellow bandit, then a second, hushed whispers between them. Finally, she said to the assembled crowd, "Honeyed words, easily laced with poison. Who among you can speak to this man's mission?"

After a moment, Hratha and her husband came forward, the former pulling the latter through the crowd. "I do. Seth came to us and...I was fearful. But he gave me good food, and he healed my husband's wounds. He has shown only patience and kindness to me and mine."

Another, Sseled, the potter's son, came forward. "He...he may be strange, but he helped my little brother when he was burnin' up. An' he helped my grandmother...she has pain in her hands, can't work the clay no more. But with his tea an' herbs, now she can throw a little each day, an' I ain't seen her so happy in all my days."

With so humble a voice speaking out, what had been a trickle became a stream, and then a river of words, until finally Biri waved her hands for the crowd to stop. "Alright! Alright. Then I give you this challenge, Seth of Tollan. If you can heal my eye, I'll bring every bandit to heel for you and your new god. Can your herbs do that?"

For the first time since he had arrived on Halessia, Seth drew the Fang, and a gasp went through the crowd--until he then bent forward and laid it flat on the ground. "I must see it, close. I bear no weapons, save my own self."

The woman chuckled, and waved her guardians off. "Most honest answer I've ever gotten from a priest. Come."

He approached. The scars included one that passed over her left eye, which had become milky--damaged on its surface. "No," he said, "my medicines cannot heal this."

"Hah. So much for--"

"I did not say I could not heal it."

She considered him, head turned to one side. "Is that so? Well, give it your best attempt, god-child."

Ignoring her dismissive words, he raised his left hand, and placed it over her eye, gesturing for her to close it. A golden light--not unlike Arkhos himself--glowed under his palm, washing over her face. To the astonishment of her guards, who were tensed and ready to strike, they could see the scars on her skin shrivel and wither, until the damaged tissue peeled from that side of her face like a shed skin. Awe and confusion warred across the rest of her face, including her still-open right eye, but beneath both the spark of something else began to quicken. The spark of hope.

He stepped away, and Biri reached up to touch her face. Opening her left eye...she could see, well and truly. Indeed, it was not just her eye that had been healed; nearly the entire left side of her face, centered around her eye, had been restored. Indeed, the other Halessians could see that even some of the hallmarks of aging had been diminished on that side of her face.

She wept, and asked, "Is...is this what your...your...Ar...your god grants?"

"No. This is a skill, just as medicine is a skill. Arkhos grants something far greater: the unyielding Oath that always, always shall he lift you up, that you may rise higher. The chance to fix yourself, and your world, and those whose lives you touch."

She did not pause to dry her tears, but her stance, her face, her voice, all were steeled. "Tell me when to begin."

Thus did Seth "conquer" the Halessians without striking a single blow--indeed, he took the island having only drawn his blade but once, and then only to set it aside. For he had learned something in Tranquility and Triumph, a lesson he would carry forever: Supreme excellence lay not in winning every battle, but in defeating your opponent without needing to fight. In his heart, however, he knew a second lesson: that supreme excellence is excellent in part because it cannot be easily obtained.

Total AP: 14+5 = 19
Create Advanced Concept: Medicine (?, 1 AP) Exactly what it says on the tin. Through Seth, Arkhos has revealed the fundamentals of improving healing using herbs, roots, and other natural means, intensified via extraction, boiling, etc. This is not magical, it just relies on the physical ingredients involved.

Create Mythic Sub-Concept (of Magic): Restoration [Nobility (Virtue), 2 AP] An actually-magical discipline that can heal almost any wounds, and even reverse some of the effects of aging. This effect does not extend life (unlike Arkhos' prior blessing), but does mitigate some of the physical symptoms of age, including issues like arthritis, and injuries incurable by ordinary medicine such as corneal damage.

Seth has absorbed Halessia into the Lightseeker culture; only those Halessians who have not fled already are added to Arkhos' flock.

Domain progress:
Travel (Adventure) 7/10
Good (Self-Sacrifice) 5/10
Nobility (Virtue) 3/10

Remaining AP: 16/20

Zale

2021-11-05, 04:42 PM

Hvittmaudh - The Forge of Agony and Woe

In the trackless wastes of the land of nightmares, came a terrible hiss. It was the song of breaking ice and tearing earth, pursued by the rumble of the bones of existence shattering.

Cracks in the earth appeared across the realm, some great chasms and others so small scarcely mist could enter- or escape. From these rents in the world, came heat and smoke and strange chthonic vapors.

Though alarming to the Andlitir, this cataclysm soon settled. The land, as a whole, remained cold and dismal- now spotted with strange inverted oases of heat and oily smoke.

And in these depths, beneath the poisonous smog and the startling heat, beneath the rumbling tunnels that could close at any moment-

Was the forge of a goddess clad in a gown of black iron. Valdis looked upon her work and found it good. So she took a burning coal from her forge of obsidian and blackest onyx, holding it in her hand. She blew upon it and it became a coil of dark, choking smoke that flew up the flumes and chimneys of her great forge, across the land of Hvittmaudh and into the world of the mortal-kin.

There it became her emissary to the hateful noisesome mortals, in the form of a black and fiery lynx that mortals would come to call the Charcoal Cat.

Weave Plane3AP - The Forge of Agony and Woe is the dwelling place and workspace of Valdis. It lies beneath the land of Nightmares, and is a dark and dreary realm. Partaking of the nature of its patroness, it is a realm hostile to life- full of toxic, subterranean mists and flares of heat or magma. However, it is never so hostile that it becomes impossible to reach where Valdis dwells. If one is clever and one is brave, a hero can always reach her. Caves (Poisonous Vapors) (3/10)

Create Portal2AP - Portals Between the Forge of Agony and Woe and Hvittmaudh are the flues and chimmeys of Valdis's forge, which open up into the cold and dismal land as a way of venting heat. Caves (Poisonous Vapors) (5/10)

Create Avatar3AP - The Charcoal Cat is the messenger of Valdis in the mortal world. It is a black lynx about twice the size of a lion that leaves behind burning pawprints as it walks. Fire (Industry) (3/10

AP: 8/16, Domain Progress: Caves (Poisonous Vapors) (5/10), Fire (Industry) (3/10)

Gunhaven

2021-11-06, 02:30 AM

Come, The Pontifex...

War! It was inevitable now. The Thirthuans demanded the extradition of the the Atfali bandits.

Eleven of the twelve Te'ivosks were in full agreement that was never going to happen.

And so She-Who-Is-Ever-A-Part sent signals and word.

She sent an emissary to the Garden, to ask what price would buy the services of the dark bargainer.

She sent word to the ziggurats of far Cartisia, to call on the Great Sun for reply.

To Atticus-Speaks-For-Me, her peer, she had shipped a copper casting of herself Tempered to bear her own words.

To the Mchwa, she sent missives in her mind-speak directly.

She sent a Tumbaga-plated brick laden. with impressions, enameled with a freize depicting the war, to the great beasts on the western continent.

Looked to the moon on the appointed night and signaled with smoke for parley.

The embassy of Dread OGAM was visited, for the first time in years, by a diplomat who braved the wild reserve.

The Rekexi were unable to commit to binding deals, and no Slig would ally to the Ice fiends, so they were not sent any missive.

And, when every deity the Sligs had heard of not tied to the conflict already had been given notice, Pontifex was manifest to declare a divine League against Slin-Thirthu

Ytrel Te'ivosk seceded in protest, taking a few eastern hives, but mostly fleeing to Thirthuan territory.

elsewhere
The Preparing Knife and the Sequoia-Condor visited all Sligs equally with visions, and perhaps it was inevitable the Thirthuans would be the first to harness the visions that led to the creation of glass.

As yet, it had no martial capabilities, but its value as a trade good counteracted the sudden loss of their primary trade partner when The Combine issued a decree against them.

1AP- join Pantheon- The Eternals
The Eternals are a Pantheon joined together in the crucible of war and devoted to Heroism and Valor
Law (Elegance) 4/10

1 PAP (shared) Mythic Concept- Chosen Vigor
Heroes and celebrities seem to age more slowly, and have extended lifespans before vanishing at the end of their span. They and political figures seem also immune to mundane disease.

Sphere: Heroics 1/10

1 AP (reduced by artifact) create advanced concept- Diplomacy
The art of negotiation and agreement between nations
Law (Elegance) 5/10

Artifact Use- Create mundane concept- Glass
It's hard and clear, yet brittle and shiny.

Come, the Pontifex
The call for aid was unexpected to say the least, but not unwanted. While the Mpishi wouldn't personally attend the call, they were far too busy coordinating what had become a global network of farmers over the generations since their founding, a barge was sent towards the Sligs. During this time the Halessian and Rekexi who served the Mchwa had all become Kifukofuko, shedding their former races and becoming something more. The Mashau anchored on the horizon of where the call came from (or at least the coast closest to it) and a simple raft was sent with a couple dozen insectile creatures on board. The chitin covered serpentfolk and shrimpfolk landed and began to head toward the signal, a cauldron filled with a simple fish stew already started.

The first sign of any sort of civilization saw the small envoy stop and call out over the crackle of the fire "Hail natives! We've been told you requested aid? Are we in the right place?" Despite never meeting a Slig before their words were easily understood, the bubbling cauldron serving translate for them.

Starting AP: 2
Artifact Charges Kupikia Doa: 1/1
The Eternals: 1/1

0 AP Bless - Kachumbari - Meals prepared using Gourmet by the Mchwa last much longer than rations normally would, the magic fading from them after months instead of days. With everything else they could theoretically wipe out any concerns for supply chains for the coming wars. Using Kupikia Doa
1 PAP Create Mythical Concept - Chosen Vigor - The longer a hero lasts, the greater their experiences will be.

Ending AP: 2

MrAbdiel

2021-11-06, 08:13 AM

Soon, the induction of the Ghilliandi into the Empire began to bear fruit for the Nechustani. They were natural hunters and therefore capable soldiers, but they had a frailty that made them poor direct combatants for any foe who found a way around their toxic spores. The solution to this evaded the Ghilliandi - but not the Midwife of Blades.

After one week of union with the Maiden Queen Rhea Laodicai, Prince Yashven-Binds-The-Hands gave his wife a gift of immeasurable value: a Fang of Arah-Huana. The braided cord of divine silver was stunningly light, and the small weighted blade at its tip frightfully sharp; sufficiently so that it might have been a disaster of a weapon in a less blessed incarnation. The Ghilliandi, with six large fragile flightless wings and four slim, weak limbs could ill afford to whip around blades and cords untrained. But like the other Fangs, Ano'Diathe, Fourfold Kiss, was desperate to be wielded and subtly taught its owner the manner to do so. Within another week, Queen Rhea had commissioned three similar whips from braided beast leather and worked bronze whose arts were just now bleeding into the civilizations of Abdita. By two months of ownership, Rhea was the single most deadly physical assailant the Ghilliandi had ever known and a sharp contender outside that racial boundry. Her cadre of martial disciples, the Fourfold Lovers, wielding four blade-tipped whips that changed their combat style remarkably. Now an enemy who resisted their poison risked being flayed by a hurricane of slashes from fifteen feet away: ironically, a skill that might have prevented their conquest by the Nechustani in the first place, if they had manifested it independantly.

Elsewhere, the Midwife's work continued to emerge on the world stage; this time in a wildly divergent form. Across the world, unprompted and heralded only by a murmuring susurrus of divinity flitting close to the mortal realm, the Slig hero Tloc would experience an alien miracle. A conventional bow in his possession flaked away its exterior, leaving a dissolving membrane with the texture of snakeskin... and within it, a new weapon of true majesty. A longbow, weighted for the Slig's size, made of a silvery alloy with slate grey patterning that had all the flex and tensile power of ash wood, but apparently no extreme limit where it would break; and a bowstring of crystal clear thread that did not stretch or fray. Its second most remarkable feature was that when it fired an arrow, at some in detectable point in the arrow's flight, it became two arrows striking their target side by side. But its most remarkable feature was the blessing upon it that rendered it a lesser Fang of Arah-Huana - and with that, the propensity to teach an intuitive martial excellence to the possessor. How this would bear out for Tloc, and the way it would manifest a school of slig perfected archery, remained to be seen; but a hero touched by their god would have no doubt this offering came obliquely from a foreign heaven, and perhaps only for a time; but a time sufficient to inflict righteous vengeance on those who so badly required it.

And far beyond the eyes of mortals, in the unspoken language of cosmic powers, Arah-Huana gave his assent to his peers, and the old snake prepared to become part of a divine compact in the heavenly places.

Create Minor Combat Artifact {discounted by Midwife of Blades} 2AP (Love (Devotion) 3/10)

Ano'Diathe, the Fourfold Kiss - a Fang of Arah-Huana in the form of a fifteen foot long whip of silvery braided metal with a weighted blade tip. Its accompanying artform is best practiced by wielders with at least four limbs that can hold such whips, and focuses on creating a zone of lacerating denial against approaching attackers.

Bless {Discounted to 0 by Perdition Sluice}

A blessing on Tloc's bow to make it a lesser Fang of Arah-Huana, manifesting both exceptional skill to the weapon's wielder, an intuitive sense of and capacity to teach a martial art form centred around similar weapons, and a nourishing of the instinct for righteous vengeance to be resolved ultimately by lethal force.

Create Pantheon (Contributing 1AP toward the Heroic pantheon) (Soldiers (Conquest) 1/10)

1 AP remaining before rollover.

ezekielraiden

2021-11-06, 08:54 AM

Si Vis Pacem, Para Bellum

Seth had attended to what he needed to. With Biri's help, the former bandits--many of whom were displaced farmers or craftsmen driven to despair by the sudden upheaval--were not hard to return to their previous vocations, or to transform into new soldiers for the Temoani Tonameyoh. Though, since the society now extended well beyond just the Quetzpal'in, it was perhaps more useful to use the translated name: the Lightseekers. Indeed, Biri had been an invaluable ally, voracious and charismatic in her conversion of others to the cause. She had even begun to learn Seth's own tongue, that she could act in his stead as the connection between Anahuac and Halessia. Her labors were made easier by the altered color of her right eye, which clearly shown with the golden color of Arkhos' touch...though of course, her prior fame as a one-eyed bandit lord did not hurt either.

Thus did he depart, not on his chamolli, but on something new, something different: A ship. Such things were rare in Tollan, where wood was used sparingly, but the Halessians felt less connected to the trees and did not mind it so much. The crew, some of whom had even returned from voyages far away, even spoke of great places beyond the sea. A mountain of black stone, where once even Father Arkhos had gone to treat with his divine siblings. That, surely, would be his first stop.

He knew, deep in his bones, that an alliance of gods would be necessary to defeat the many foes. The voice from the deep might have quieted, but it surely lurked out there still--and even with Tahr'Thua gone, the servants remained, their so-called "hunts" continuing. Only in forging unity from difference could they prevail. This he knew.

---

Biri saw to her responsibilities. With her sight restored, she seemed driven almost to the point of self-harm, filling each moment of the day. Such zeal attracts the eyes of those beyond, and when that zeal is in the name of he who urges mortals to waste no hour but to ever climb higher, it does so all the more. Within days of Seth's departure, she began having the dreams. At first, she could not understand them or the voice, but with time, particularly as she came to be seen as the leader of all Halessia in Seth's stead--chosen by the Chosen, one might say--they became more clear.

Finally, one night, the voice spoke to her clearly. Like the voice of her long-dead father, but richer, deeper. "Biri. In your heart burns the fire of passion, but you have lacked for direction, for purpose. That fire has kept you alive, but it has not let you thrive."

"Tell me what I must do, O Lord!" she cried, as the Ring of Law encircled her. "For you who has restored my sight...I will do whatever you ask."

"Then you must be the whetstone of your people, Biri Golden-Sight. You are the dull blade, bare fit to cut the hide of beasts. You must become part of the sword that shall vanquish evil and the spear that shall strike the heart of iniquity. Lead them. Teach them. I shall tell you what to say, and where to go, and under your Golden Sight, the wicked shall fall. Forge the Blade of Light, and take up the Spear that is your Destiny."

She awoke with a start, flushed and breathing heavily. "I understand, my lord. This I shall do." And at the foot of her makeshift bed...she found the Spear.

And Arkhos, too, did work: closing the loop, that souls need not die in vain...and that the fire within be stoked to inferno.

Current AP: 16/20

Pre-spending 2 AP for Pantheon with Slingid and Arah-Huana, [Nobility (Virtue) 5/10]

Create Organization: the Blade of Light. [1 AP, Travel (Adventure) 8/10] Where the Lightseekers are a full society, including its self-defense forces, the Blade of Light is specifically a military organization, started in Halessia from fervent converts. The Quetzpal'in are not actually that common among them, at least not yet, but some have joined following behind Seth and aiding with Halessia's reconstruction and annexation.

Create Minor Utility Artifact: The Spear of Destiny [3 AP, Nobility (Virtue) 8/10]. Wielded by the leader of the Blade of Light, this spear is both the badge of office and the symbol of the organization. Its holder is faster, stronger, and fearsome to behold in battle--possibly breaking the enemy's morale without needing to fight. It will, however, reject a holder that has failed to live up to Arkhos' lofty standards, burning their hands severely.

Create Advanced Concept: Meritocratic Promotion [2 AP, Nobility (Virtue) 10/10 Domain acquired]. Exactly what it says on the tin. Individuals promoted, usually in military contexts but potentially in others as well, not because of who they know or what their bloodline is, but because of their performance.

Create Bridge: The Ascending Height [2 AP, Travel (Adventure) 10/10 Domain acquired] Connects First World to the Empyrean Shore, via the peak of the Pyramid of the Sun. The bridge takes the form of an impossible spiral staircase, which clearly extends up higher than the peak of the pyramid. After a minute or so of ascent, the staircase straightens and widens, coming to a seaside cave on the Empyrean Shore.

Remaining AP: 6/24

Arkhos is now an Intermediate Deity with the following domains acquired:
Luck (Hope) [starting]
Law (Oaths) [starting]
Magic (Rites)
War (Tactics)
Sun (Revelation)
Nobility (Virtue)
Travel (Adventure)

Domains in progress:
Good (Self-Sacrifice) 5/10

Feathersnow

2021-11-07, 10:11 AM

Slingid
The Golden City

Reports filtered into the Golden City of War, like the Sligs had never seen. and that many of the peers of Slingid had fallen silent, the others banding to the call of Pontifex. P

Soon, his children would rule a peaceful world, after the last of the Demiurge of Gravity's forces were routed by more active deities.

And grow fat and stupid. And forget all I taught them

There were still those who needed his gifts, though. Those who needed their place in any new order determined...

The Abyss, middle depths

Yellow 25-479 sorted through the most recent batch of sacrifices to determine what would be stored, what would be used, and what would be sent directly to the Great Heaven Below.

Ze wasn't deep enough in caste to warrant a personal name, only the most benthic were anointed so. Ze had a description based on their stripes "Yellow," a caste "25" based on their depth of spawning, and a number, "479" the 479th elver to awaken to consciousness and assume a role in society that season at that depth.

Ze was an average Osedaxi, not damned to missionary work, nor blessed to live entirely in the deep, dark gloaming. But perhaps that is why they were the one to upend a culture as old as any on the First World.

It happened by chance, the little gold scalpel. It could have been ignored, should have been sent down. But, but it cut Yellow... And then the wound closed!

And ze... took that which was properly property of zer betters, or even zer God.

Soon, a dying missionary, Red-White 5-367, filtered down allowing zerself to die as the pressure of home crunched their cuttle. And Yellow took the knife to zer... and zer was restored.

Then they were two, and they knew the secret.

Then they were 8, then a score. And they did a new thing. A greater apostasy. They raided a warehouse of treasures on the ocean floor.

And they were seen. And they fled to the surface. They were not pursued, for only the doomed went upward, as far as anyone knew.

But the bounty they had claimed was worth it. And strange visions of new things filled their lives and their dreams.

Within a moon cycle, they had broken a pod of Ursliga to serve as Hounds. Within three, they had liberated mounts from Rekexi stables.

Within a year, the Calling's cultists across Krillix, Abdita and Cartisia paid tribute to the Pirate King instead of sacrifices to the God ze had blasphemed. Within three, ze had returned in glory to the Depths as Generalissimo of the Ocean.

Core Hive

She-Who-Is-Ever-A-Part called forth the Te'ivosks and the Duma for a presentation. What she did not say was she had also called a self-appointed leader of the dispossessed al-Atfali.

And she certainly did not mention the guest had brought an illuminated manuscript. Writing was a dire, foreign magic. It bound words and memories out of context, and froze the living spirit of the speaker in time.
She announced, in spoken words, booming through the amphitheater, held aloft in a great gilded palanquin.

"Our long allies, the al-Kitab, are no more. The Circle, which gave us many gifts, is no more. The Te'ivosk of Ytrel has departed and will not be allowed to return"

"Today we filled with refugees. Today, we are not one people. Today, we are only 11."

"Tomorrow will be different..."

"I am transferring the twelfth Te'ivosk position to an internally selected caucus of al-Atfali. They will no longer be Refugees, but full citizens, with a vote in the Council between them and votes in the Duma per each household. Any of Ytrel who try to return to the fold will be reassigned to a loyal Te'ivosk.

With that, she caused the great manuscript to fly to her and unroll, an image of the sleeping God Maktub, who made the al-Atfali.

She picked up a pen, the biggest ever made, that she had magically obscured until that moment.

And... she signed her secret name, formalizing the constitution of the Combine under the understanding of the al-Atfali.

The Western Continent

In the Colonies to the West, things were less tense. The Rekexi had largely been subjugated, but the nature and demographic trends of the two races made this less than onerous. Or, rather, three races, for tentative communication with the great monsters of the inner continent had slowly unfolded.

Their leypoint network had inspired the network of roads that sprung up throughout Piedwald. And their touchstones inspired ways to make Rekexi able to live indefinitely far inland.

Still though, the coasts were internally torn city states that barely touched the great, fertile, inland...

Starting 0+6
PAP 0+1

2 AP- Raise Hero- Yellow 25-479 " Booster Gold"

A rebel Osedaxi who wants more, and is inspired by Slingid to take it!

War (progress) 2/10

1AP- (shared with Eldest) Create Racial Society- The Risen

A New, iconoclastic order of Osedaxi devoted to self-improvement via conquest.

War (Progress) 3/10
Create Mundane concept- cavalry

Osedaxi can ride beneath the waves on tame beasts and use them as weapons to seize ships.

War (progress) 4/10

Teach Advanced concept- Medicine

With medical breakthroughs stolen from Lightseekers and offered as sacrifices to the Deep, the barrier between castes is broken, and Osedaxi no longer shatter if they return to the lowest parts of the ocean.

Life (science) 1/10

1 AP blessing- The Winds of Change

"any sacrifice to the Calling exposed to air willfully by an Osedaxi apostate will return to a usable state. Thst apostate will have a boosted ability to understand it and to attempt to learn the science of its creation "
War (progress) 5/10

1 PAP, artifact use- Create Advanced concept- Formal Law
Breaking centuries of tradition, the Czairra of The Combine formally authors, ppresents, and even signs a document, formalizing the citizenship and voting rights of the al-Atfali refugees.

This act of blatant rejection of the tradition of alliteracy and Queens not using personal names shocks the Sligs, but cements the loyalty of the children of Moktub.

Sphere (Heroics) 4/10(?)

Artifact use- Blessing- the Rivers of the Land

Rekexi can now survive near leylines and True-Tempered gold-Zinc alloy pylons without access to brine

Artifact use- Create mundane concept- roads

The War effort has made transportation across land a high priority for both the Cultists and the Royalists, as well as in the spread out colonies of the Western Continent

Zale

2021-11-09, 02:38 PM

The First World
In Which the Charcoal Cat Sees Much

A tendril of smoke brushes across the land.

In Temoanih Tonameyoh, it oozes over the workshops of the blacksmiths and the glassmakers. It commingles with the smoke of their fires and listens to the art of their craft. It passes over the apothecary and the physician, rattling herbs and leading to a superstitious tradition among them of closing one's windows before teaching their arts.

In Piedwald, it dances around the strange and terrifying trees. It observes the oddness of the ecosystem, the way that flesh and metal merge. It notes the war that rages, the proficiency with metal and the very idea of prosthetic limbs.

It flows up the lunar chains and notes the ice shaping arts of the Serovian Moths, their isolated and woodless culture. Potentially quite useful. The coiling smoke mingles with the cooking fires of those devoted to strange and insectile gods, tasting the power of their alchemy.

Finally, it descends upon Abdita and Nuaraha’Kha, the Kingdom of Black Sand.

Here it tastes the flames of conquest, the ash of defeat and the burning embers of outcast rebellion.

Here, it knows, the fires begin.

The First World - Abdita - The Kingdom of Black Sand
In Which the Gift of Iron and of Glass is Given

A giant cat stalks through the buildings of black stone. Her fur is the darkness of long burnt ash. The pads of her feet leave behind glowing, pearlescent flame in her passing, transforming the sand where she touches it into shimmering and milky glass.

She is a divine messenger and has announced herself as such, stirring fear and interest in the populace.

And this great cat comes with a greeting, an introduction and several gifts.

But to the emperor alone will she deign to speak.

Gunhaven

2021-11-11, 01:23 AM

A New Change
For a generation the Nyiga simply existed, growing and understanding their role in the world. There was some buzz about the outside world changing, of their unchanged cousins claimed by ancient enemies, but Malkia still waited. Finally, when the red moon shined brightest in the night sky, she commanded almost a third of her warriors to march towards the coast with her.

A few dozen Mzinga, a dozen Mwiba, and half a dozen Kipepeo joined their Queen on the journey. Their chitin glistened in the star light as they skirted the edge of the desert and avoided any sort of confrontation, arriving at the coast near a bay when the red moon was highest above the land. That was when the Landeater emerged from the sea and dug into the nearby bay as it dug through the land and expanded the reach of the sea.

The gathering shifted in position, always staying out of the colossal worm’s path, until Malkia ordered the attack and the group surged forward just as the landeater was about to descend to the depths. Mzinga were no match for the abomination, especially on their own, but as a group they worked together. Kipepeo stunned the beast with their poisonous wings, Mzinga and Mwiba managed to scratch it’s rough hide enough to slow it, and finally Malkia managed to pierce the creature’s skull and prove the truth to the Blighted Blood moniker.

The creature was torn into, with Malkia claiming the egg that was forming within it while most of the warriors claimed what bone pieces and meat they could carry. They dragged their prizes back to the hive with the carcass left to rot in the coming sun. Once they were safely back in the hive they began their work in the name of the Changed Consumption. The egg was broken open and the young fed to the Buu to create a new monstrosity as the bone was ground down and the meat fed to the hive.

The Buus fed the egg grew larger and larger within their chrysalis as the Nyuki dug pits deeper and deeper until finally a group of huge worms emerged that were quickly dubbed Minyoo, almost like miniature Landeaters, whose only sense was smell and only purpose was to consume earth. Unlike their progenitors they were also easy to kill from figuratively any direction besides their near-impenetrable heads.

Some of the Nyuki fed the Buus the bones from both the Minyoo and Landeater on a whim and found such creatures could be almost molded in their chrysalis stage. What emerged was as tough as a Landeater bone or tooth and just barely sentient. Most of such unfortunate creatures, who were dubbed Mfupa by the hive, would go on to replace limbs or carpaces to serve as weapon and armor for the hive.

Graph (https://drive.google.com/file/d/1XAh29P7Mpgo6x5RHZiX8u-46WtDvRuP8/view?usp=sharing)

Making it easier on myself and renaming the Kifukofuko of the races I’ve converted.
Halessian Kifukofuko are now Nyoka
Rekexi Kifukofuko are now Uduvi
Venuxi Kifukofuko are now Mwiba
Ghilliandi Kifukofuko are now Kipepeo

A Growing Menace
The Minyoo were unleashed on the world once they were fully formed. Starting first in Abdita mounds of earth burst from the ground in seemingly random places, which looked almost like termite mounds on steroids. The Minyoo responsible for digging the tunnel deposited the earth it had dug out while the Nyuki quickly got to work forming a new hive. A month later and Mwiba, Kipepeo, and Mzinga would start to emerge to harvest the locals and expand the population of the hive. Eventually they’d expand off the continent and to the other lands but seemingly avoiding the smell of strong opponents for the time being.

Starting AP: 2 + 5 Rollover
Artifact Charges Kupikia Doa: 1/1
Pantheon AP Heroics: 1/1 (¾ AP spent on forming it, 2/4 AP spent on mythic concept)

1 AP Create Monstrous Subrace - Minyoo - Born from a Landeater egg, Minyoo are huge earthworm-like creatures. Their skulls are almost impenetrable as they burrow their way through solid stone. They’re wide enough that Malkia could scurry through their resulting tunnels if she needed to. Advancing Trickery (Ambush)

1 AP Create Monstrous Subrace - Mfupa - Creatures born from bones (or chitinous exoskeletons) who can be nudged into useful enough shapes while they’re in their metamorphosis stage. The resulting creature is technically alive and could survive feeding off a wielder but is often used in Xenoalchemy by some creature in the Nyiga hive replacing a limb or (in extreme cases) their exoskeleton with the Mfupa. Advancing Trickery (Ambush)

[0]0 AP[/i] Bless - Jiwe - Minyoo are able to process the earth they eat into something that mirrors concrete or steel in strength, making their homes exceptionally resilient. Using Artifact

1 AP Teach Advanced Concept - Architecture - The hives of the Nyiga rival anything others could build, mirroring the termite mounds they’re based on. Because of how they are, the insides of their hives are labyrinths where the centers hold the Buu and the tunnel connecting the hives together. Advancing Trickery (Ambush)

Ending AP: 4, no artifact charge, PAP in theory

MrAbdiel

2021-11-13, 08:46 AM

The city of Nuaraha'Kha, the residents received the feline interloper with appropriate superstitious dread. Arah-Huana did not come down to the First World; and he only spoke through his prophets. Yet here was the agent of another divine, and a creature plainly featuring divinity in itself. The defensive wall around the city is incomplete, for its builders are not natural stoneworkers, and the Charcoal Cat has no difficulty passing through its gaps. And no one dares oppose her in the streets. But, after a modicum of pause at the tall, exotically white-wooden siege door of the black sandstone palace, the doors swung open, and the guards within held aside their bronze naginata, and stirred neither for the woven leather whips. As the Cat made her way to the receiving room, the lean and muscular form of the king of this desert people rose from a basalt throne and descended the elevation of his steps to meet her - a gesture that at worst presumes peerage with the avatar, and at best indicates an unwillingness to sit elevated above her on first meeting.

Asphodel-Reigns-In-Power is the vision that a conquering mythic king should be; strong, handsome, visibly intimidating but featuring a restraint and sophistication such that he typically comes off as merciful simply for not flaunting his power. Interestingly, his guards have the bronze naginata as well, but the king himself bears at his side a straight bastard sword of divine providence - a weapon long enough and expecting such fierce use that so far the primitive bronzesmiths of the Nechustani have been unable to replicate it in the simpler metals their mortal tools can handle.

Upon his head is a copper circlet that matches the copper of his eyes. Three inch long fangs belonging to some desert predator are worked into the band pointing upwards with enough spacing to permit a setting of a gem between each. For now, there are three gems; a polished circle of jet in the centre, and an uncut but not unpretty blue sapphire either side of it.

"My stargazers told me the divine places were shifting, and that I might expect a caller. But I recognize you not, divine stranger. Who are you? Whose people are yours? And wherefore shall a goddess come calling on a people who do not come calling on her?" He makes a gesture to one side, indicating an ivory skinned Nechustani woman in gossamer wraps, and a minumum of linen beneath that to preserve decency. Her body is a visible catalogue of prayers, stencilled on her skin in a temporary ink; each beseeching the Godfather Arah-Huana for blessings. Blessings like fruitfulness of the people, cunning in battle, and justice to pursue traitors as relentlessly as desert thirst. The priestess averts her eyes from the avatar; but the holy book written upon her serves the Emperor of the Black Sand's purpose in declaring his divine allegiance.

------

Meanwhile, in the divine places, Arah-Huana stirs, and with his stirring his realm is altered. The power of the Perdition Sluice is manipulated by its maker, toward the fertility and wellbeing of his people as they expand into a new age. Now comes an age of legends - driven by paragon kings and queens who are lovers, and leaders, and inspirations that project prosperity into their people.

The Midwife of Blades responds to the change as her instrument is altered beneath her. Now she will not make weapons - she will make ideas which are weapons of the mind. The people - peoples - of Arah-Huana will not long lag behind those agents of other gods.

7AP before Rollover later tonight.

0 AP Bless (Discounted by Perdition Sluice) - Raised Up To Glory - Societies that contain a substantial Nechustani element have a much easier time osmosing knowledges and concepts from each other.

3 AP Chance Artifact Focus - The Perdition Sluice chances from Bless to Create Racial Society (Love (Devotion) 4/10).

3 AP Change Artifact Focus - The Midwife of Blades changes from Create Lesser Combat Artifact to Create Advanced Concept. (Community (Empire) 9/10)

1 AP Create Advanced Concept (Discounted by Midwife of Blades) - Imperial Bureaucracy. (Community (Empire) 10/10).

0 AP Remaining before Rollover.

Feathersnow

2021-11-13, 02:31 PM

Slingid

In zer dreams, Yellow 25-479 floated in the shallows, and above zer, the great green wings of a strange bird.

A shrill, cracked voice chanted, sounding like the shanties enslaved ground-walkers used to coordinate. Ze had heard them often on the fleets ze had captured. They were pressed into service growing zer empire, often to the material profit of the crew, who weren't particularly free before.

and GROW!!

RISE!!

and TAKE!!

RISE!!

and CONSUME!!

RISE!!

Ze awoke with zer hands sunk into a cracked metal sphere.

It was two bells later the word came from the fumomancer above the surface of the Great Cracks in the Ocean.

The detailed maps of trade routes seemed unaffected, reports would reveal over the next month. The vicious predation of the sea continued unabated.

The Western Continent

Reports of raids by unearthly monsters filtered east from Krillix, and war from the east on Piedwald. The Rekexi of the Western Continent, however, lived as peaceful and prosperous life as any Rekexi before them.

It was in this context a clam breeder, Ksjsrp, noticed a funny thing about the scroll-clams she raised. Some were pinker and some bluer.

On a lark, she tried separating the two groups over generations. And... she took notes. Writing was shunned by the Sligs, yet, without their knowledge of mathematics, the analysis of her findings would have been impossible.

She died after a long, happy life, never thinking her results were more than a funny anecdote...

The Blessing of Slingid left every Rekexi born since instinctively primed to re-learn what the forgotten martyr discovered. And it wasn't long, in terms of generations, before those responsible for breeding tri-horns for battle increased the muscle-mass and armor toughness of their charges beyond anything ever seen in nature. And they kept notes, that were passed to the breeders of Ursliga and war-rays.

And that was just the beginning...

3AP- Artifact of alter land- The Cracked Globe

This tool is in the hands of Yellow 25-479 and is used to further zer piracy and raids of the storehouses of The Calling

War (progress) 8/10

Artifact use- Alter land- cracks in the earth

The surface of the sea, above the deepest pits, is, in many places, folded inward, exposing the bottom to the air and increasing the livable, lighted and oxygenated parts of the ocean greatly. It also makes raiding the depths of the bottom of the universe practical for anyone, not just Osedaxi.

Artifact use- mundane concept hourly time keeping

Though mechanical clocks are still a long way off, the Sligs figured cruder methods of measuring time in amounts of less than a day, and this science quickly was copied by the Risen, who had more immediate use for it.

1 PAP Curse- pirate maps

Conflict on the sea is now far more likely, as the trade currents are mapped and welknown.

Sphere: Heroics: 5/10?

2 AP- Create racial society- Dynotopos

The Colonies of the Rekexi and Sligs in the Western Continent are now unified culturally.

Life (science) 3/10

1 AP (reduced by artifact) Advanced concept- genetics

The science of systematically breeding creatures for desired traits.

Life (science) 4/10

Artifact use- Blessing- chimeric consolidation

Real life genetics is messy. But, in the first world, viable hybrids of wildly different species are more likely than is reasonable, and genetics, even of species that are chimerical, magical, or just weird, seem to consistently follow simple Mendellian patterns

canjowolf

2021-11-13, 05:04 PM

Wave of Apes

For an age Blackleaf's power had not been seen in the world. Slowly the Gardeners and Phihid had moved around the world with ship and sail, and Shadow had finished work on ape and monkey folk in the jungles of Garden. The Opae, large and violent apes. They were large and strong, capable of crushing the many armored horrors that were now populating the world with heavy stones and maces. The Untae were small monkey folk, curious, fearless, agile, with prehensile tails. Both were soon recruited to the merchant marine engaging in trade around the world.

As these less cautious people joined the fleets, their character began to change. Curious Untae scouting parties snuck far ashore in search of new trading partners. Opae marine manned the ships with club and spear and intimidation. Time had also increased the size of the fleets, until they formed a culture of their own, separate from the jungle dwellers. A culture focused on trade and exchanges. A culture which saw danger as thrilling rather than an ever-present mist. A culture highly skilled in the use of ropes and nets and sail, who lived their lives aboard their living ships. Without villages or territory, the loyalties of these seafarers turned to their extended families, forming the great sea clans, each weaving their own symbol into their sails.

This transient culture lost their fear and respect for the great trees, for the most part. But they did remember their pacts of power. While the great trees preferred offerings of souls and duty, many would accept live sacrifice instead, catching the souls of they dying before they escaped to the twisting realms. To this end, some of the captains of the Werpperzee began capturing exotic peoples and beasts from distant shores to feed to the Black Trees. The land-bound also found value in these captives, both as a source of labor, and for the novelty of their exoticism.

These raids tended to focus on the weak and the poor. If settlements didn't have any valuable trade goods for the seafarers, or if they refused to engage in trade, then they might be subject to piracy, raiding, theft, or enslavement. Those who developed friendly relationships might be drawn into conflicts between clans, but they would still see the exotic goods that the far-sailors brought.

With the rise of raiding and piracy came the rise of a legendary pirate. Corvus Blacksail, a terror of the high seas. Details of this pirate were hazy. Even race and gender were argued in taverns and ship meetups. One constant though, was the black sail bearing the image of a field of eyes. Another constant was the brutality of Corvus, who slaughtered all those who refused to surrender. In truth, many captains raised a black sail from time to time when they wished to intimidate or to hide their bloody deeds, contributing to the mystery of this dreadful pirate.

9 held + 5 rollover = 14
-2 Create Race: The Opae: Great Apes [war or chaos]
-2 Create Race: The Untae: Small Monkey Folk [war or chaos]
-1 Create Mundane Concept: Maces [war]
-1 Create Mundane Concept: Net Mastery [war]
-2 Form Society: The Wide Cast Net (The Werpperzee) [chaos (anonymity)]
-2 Create Advanced Concept: Slavery [chaos (anonymity)]
-2 Create Advanced Concept: Clans
-2 Create Hero: Dread Pirate Corvus [chaos (anonymity)]
-0 (free from artifact): A curse on all shore dwelling people. They are subjected to random raids and enslavement.

0 Remain

canjowolf

2021-11-13, 10:09 PM

Time Tea

The speaker accepted the offer to learn about stew in exchange for the teaching of tea. However, the seafarers were not farmers. They were willing to buy seeds and instructions, but unwilling to pay much for them. They are also willing to trade their spices for those of the Mchwa and say that they are always looking for new spices.

Hired Shadows, Seeds of Darkness

Priests of the Black Tree met with the Slig emissaries. The gardeners were not a warlike people, at least in so far as forming armies and sailing to fight in pitched battle. Their stealth, familiarity with poisons, patience, and faith made them adequate scouts and assassins. Their pacts and magics could support the augmented slig, but they were ill suited to serve on the front lines in pitched battle. Shadow was working to remedy that, but the numbers of the Opae were too few to serve as mercenaries in war. So Shadow's offer, and price, were that the Slig would plant a seed of the Black Tree in each of their cities, in a place chosen by a Gardener priest sent by Shadow. The Slig were to allow the Gardeners and other faithful of Blackleaf to visit and worship at these great trees to be.

The individual Gardeners and others sent would also need to be paid, preferably in weapons or tools to assist in the wartime activities that She-Who-Is-Ever-A-Part expected them to accomplish.

Feathersnow

2021-11-14, 08:58 AM

Yellow 25-479, AKA Booster Gold

Rumors had arisen of another pirate king, of a strange race, on the far side of the world from where the Osedaxi congregated.

The one called the Booster, the Golden one, but who still thought of zerself as Yellow 25-479, was concerned, a little jealous, even. The Parrot had told zer to take the world for zerself, even given zer the world to mold in zer hand. And another stood in zer same spot.

But, perhaps, there did not need to be conflict. Ze gathered two of zer lieutenants and their war-rays and a slew of bodyguards on alpha ursligas with their spawn in attendance. And ze rode out to where their fumomancers reported sightings of the great Corvus, waving a pure white banner of parley.

Diplomacy

The copper statue of a slig queen was presented to the Phihid at the wall of the Slig enclave.

The Herald, an elderly worker Slig in fancy livery and a gilded walker, proclaimed:

"Now be honored to hear the words of She-Who-Is-Ever-A-Part, Czairra of The Combine, mother of her people.

She extends her greetings to our long-time allies and friends in the Garden and issues this proclamation in her own voice as a gesture of respect and in acknowledgement of our long relationship with the Gardeners."

He activated the recording gingerly.

"Your proposal is acceptable. Even as you receive this recording, a fleet is being prepared to take your people and the seeds to the parts of Piedwald under Combine control. You will need to travel in force and by a longer route to avoid interdiction by Thirthuan forces or the rising threat of Osedaxi raids. I have dispatched my greatest champion, Bistr'Khram, to oversee the transportation.

Krillix

They were a new thing, not a Te'ivosk, not a Rekexi city, but more, and, in some sense, less. The word Slig bards settled on was "host." But, here in Krillix, the Host of The Violet Triangle were guests. More precisely, they were mercenaries.

One of the factions in the endless wars between Rekexi cities had decided to call on Dynotopic mercenaries to bolster their dwindling fortunes. And, led by a junior Slig queen of a city-state in the dry edge of habitable for Rekexi, a force of trained warriors from Violet Triangle made the increasingly dangerous sea voyage to the homeland of the shrimpfolk.

Rekexi hoplites were nothing new, but Slig longbowmen, with specialized walkers and the kyujutsu taught by traveling bards terrified the mind-riders of the other Rekexi forces. Slig golems were less impressive, being fundamentally less impressive and more expensive than beasts, but the use of true-tempered gold to heal wounded warbeasts was a strategic force multiplier. Until the healing knives were stolen in raids with such targeted zeal the Sligs decided it was worth it to just sell them directly under flag of truce.

So it was when the Nyiga came in force, so close to the heart of the city as to foul the sacred waters of the breeding pool. The Rekexi had only limited defenses against their aerial forces, their ray mounts untrained for combat, and their warhammers useless.

Had the Nyiga come to a different city, it would have been overrun with minimal resistance. But they came here, and the Slig longbows beat them back to their tunnels. Unfortunately, this was only a preliminary expedition. And, more unfortunately, the Nyiga and the Sligs had seem each other, and they each knew the other were a dire threat.

canjowolf

2021-11-15, 08:09 PM

Gold and Glory, White and Black

Yellow 25-479 found the great ship with blacks sail at anchor near an island trading port, the living ships of the Gardeners crawling in and out with their goods. The black sailed ship was not particularly large for a live-ship, and was woven with phihid of blues and blacks and purples to hide the prow against the waves. At this time, smoke wafted from the ship, carrying the smells of incense and charcoal. Sylvian beings seemed to writhe in the smoke.

Closer to the ship a skirt of vines could be seen underwater, falling into the abyss to root the ship to this shallow ground. The deck, such as it was, was populated by a mix of races. Short plump Gardeners. Tall, broad shouldered Opae. Scampering little Untae, who clung to vines at the gunnels to peer at the approaching rays. The crew had dressed themselves for battle. Heavy flower armor a riot of passionate colors intermixed with dull chitinous plates. Tempered copper swords side by side with stone tipped spears, woven nets, shaped wooden clubs, and light leather slings. Some wore particular costumes. One wore a cloak of feathers and a painted wooden mask make to look like a strange representation of a bird of prey. One with a coat of bones rather than flowers, and a bone white staff tipped in a strange crystal. One so bedecked with bright red flowers that it almost appeared to be aflame. There was no uniform, although the majority wore flowers, sun hats, and eye guards.

As the Golden one approached, no weapons were fired. The live ship bristled with boarding pikes, but only a pair of large Opae bothered to heft them. If the far traveling ship approached close enough, a bare chested Opae with a bright silk sun hat twirled a rock on a rope and hurled it across the waves at Booster's ship, the rope trailing behind the stone to its origin.

Silence in the Jungle Depths

The call to action silently rippled through the depths of the Garden, and to the islands beyond. The children of Blackleaf had been invited to the great cities across the seas to plant their seeds in new ground. It would take time for the multitudes to gather, but the most adventurous families arrived with the rope sacks and their digging sticks and their Phihid companions.

MrAbdiel

2021-11-20, 08:50 AM

After establishing the two client states over their insectile neighbours, the flourishing Nechustani naturally began to wonder how far the limits of their ambition could be pushed. Asphodel's family came to him, then; desperate for support for their own elevation. Cousins, nephews, sisters, aunts, all desired their own crowns over their own people. Yet Asphodel was cunning, and parcelled out power to those he judged best equipped to handle it. Arah-Huana, his stargazers told him, had become interested in the promotion of love in its aspect of romantic and familial devotion. Why anger the gods, when one could cooperate with them so easilly?

Thus, he bestowed favour on three from his family who were famed not for their warrior courage or subterfuge, but for the strength and admirable qualities of their marriages. To his aunt Daena-Stands-And-Runs and her lover Suranna-Is-Forsaken, he gave wealth and title to found a city; likewise to his cousin Imrik-Must-Be-Seen and his wife Dalana-Is-My-Hope; and finally to his nephew Lanshi-Has-Greatness-Within. Lanshi was his favorite, for he had taken as his wife one of the Ghilliandi; a maiden queen named Lovia who was as ruthlessly cunning as any. To each pair, he opened the vaults of the Black Desert's accumulated wealth and favor, and each listened to the sandcasters for guidance leading them and their hosts of thousands of colonists before marching into the sacred sandstorms and vanishing from Abdita for years. Daena and her people arrived in the shadow of unfamiliar mountains in a cool and coastal land; and they might not have long endured. But toiling in the light of the sacred sun, with the blessing of Arah'Huana for fruitfullness and the enduring blessing of Arkhos on those who honestly labored in the daylight, they made for themselves the beginning of a kingdom, and began to know the land. Imrik's destination was a small island of sensible, simple desert surrounded by a land filled with enormous beasts, and suffering the conflict of alien powers. These colonists turned their eyes inward, but made their position hardy, defensible, and self reliant. Lanshi's people came to settle in a white sand desert with borders on wooded land that had already seen the touch of harvesters and foresters. They, too, built within the safety of the sand, wary of what would lay beyond. This colony, Arah-Huana took for special favor; and when Lanshi took the feminine to bear her wife a child, the birth was not one, but four; each a healthy Nechustani child with skin in the vibrant and ostentatious coloration of Lovia. Such blended unions saw extra fruitfulness; and the next generation of colonists in that place were as likely to be traditional bone-pale as they were to be a shocking, symetrically skinned pattern of purples, and pinks, and oranges; each a creature of singular, almost psychadelic artistry.

6AP Before Rollover.

Create Racial Society - Dauah'Kha - 2 AP (Love (Devotion) 6/10)

A society built within the desert of Dauaha, on the interior of the southern part of Cartisia. Its inhabitants are almost entirely Nechustani, with a smattering of others who find it profitable or worthwhile to move there. They begin exploring the continent.

Create Racial Society - Padana'Kha - 2 AP (Love (Devotion) 8/10)

A society built within the desert of Padanah, on the continent once belonging to the Sauropods, now hotly contested. Its inhabitants are entirely Nechustani. They do some scouting outside of their desert borders, but are wary of the conflict raging in the area.

Create Racial Society - Zara'Kha - 1 AP (Discounted by Perdition Sluice) (Love (Devotion) 9/10)

A society built within the desert of Zarah, in south eastern Piedwald. Its inhabitants are a blend of Nechustani and Ghilliandi. They begin exploring the continent.

Create Advanced Concept - Feudalism - 1 AP (Discounted by Midwife of Blades) (Love (Devotion) 10/10)

With the advance of the Empire of the Black Sands, now with five client states answering to the throne of Nuaraha'Kha, the Nechustani develop a system of apportioning land through titles echoing out via a complex exchange of favor from King Asphodel. The system is so byzantine and intricate that singular Nechustani are routinely swallowed up by it; but couples where one partner is the ostensible civil and military ruler and the other operates in the diplomatic shadowsphere tracking favors and power jockeying thrive. Such power couples that flounder in their commitment to each other are easily absorbed by competing neighbours with greater fidelity.

0 AP Before Rollover.

Arah-Huana is a Greater Deity!

Gunhaven

2021-11-20, 08:59 AM

Trouble on the High Seas
The Mchwa that met with the Gardeners gladly traded away their spices and knowledge for new spices, especially the raw forms that they’d be able to grow in their fields. Within a season they’d learn all the various recipes that could be grown with it and what the effects would be. But all good things eventually come to an end as piracy started to pick up more and more.

There was a solution already in place, however. The superstitions of old had proven effective against extraplanar raiders and with a simple shift in tactics it would prove effective against raiders. The poisons worked into their boats and used against the monstrous creatures of the sea would prove effective against all hostile creatures on their boats with a simple change of the formula.

Krillix

They were a new thing, not a Te'ivosk, not a Rekexi city, but more, and, in some sense, less. The word Slig bards settled on was "host." But, here in Krillix, the Host of The Violet Triangle were guests. More precisely, they were mercenaries.

One of the factions in the endless wars between Rekexi cities had decided to call on Dynotopic mercenaries to bolster their dwindling fortunes. And, led by a junior Slig queen of a city-state in the dry edge of habitable for Rekexi, a force of trained warriors from Violet Triangle made the increasingly dangerous sea voyage to the homeland of the shrimpfolk.

Rekexi hoplites were nothing new, but Slig longbowmen, with specialized walkers and the kyujutsu taught by traveling bards terrified the mind-riders of the other Rekexi forces. Slig golems were less impressive, being fundamentally less impressive and more expensive than beasts, but the use of true-tempered gold to heal wounded warbeasts was a strategic force multiplier. Until the healing knives were stolen in raids with such targeted zeal the Sligs decided it was worth it to just sell them directly under flag of truce.

So it was when the Nyiga came in force, so close to the heart of the city as to foul the sacred waters of the breeding pool. The Rekexi had only limited defenses against their aerial forces, their ray mounts untrained for combat, and their warhammers useless.

Had the Nyiga come to a different city, it would have been overrun with minimal resistance. But they came here, and the Slig longbows beat them back to their tunnels. Unfortunately, this was only a preliminary expedition. And, more unfortunately, the Nyiga and the Sligs had seem each other, and they each knew the other were a dire threat.

Nyiga Expansion - Krillix
The scouting party, composed of Mwibi and Mzinga, was struck down by the longbows, attacked as they surveyed their new home, and they released pheromones to signal the coming danger. The next wave, composed of mostly Mwibi and a supporting cast of Mzinga and Kipepeo, was sent out almost exclusively to gather up corpses and managed to strike into some of the Sligs and Rekexi. The third wave was the last sent out and it was the largest. Several of the fallen enemy were claimed by the new wave and retreated with their odd prize with as many of their own fallen.

The horror that was the Nyiga came in two stages: those warriors who entered the labyrinth tunnels of the Hive found the very building sapping at their health and those warriors who were attacked by the Mwibi were infected with odd white larva, almost like overgrown maggots, that feasted upon their bodies. They did their best to wiggle back to the hive but most of the monsters that emerged assumed it was a lost cause. After the third wave, though, they didn’t venture out of the hive for weeks.

Starting AP: 4 + 5 Rollover
Artifact Charges Kupikia Doa: 1/1
Pantheon AP Heroics: 1/1 (¾ AP spent on forming it, 2/4 AP spent on mythic concept)

1 AP Bless - Sumu v2 - Building upon the former adjustment to Superstitions and expanding on it, Mchwa communities find that they can steer away pirates, raiders, and other such hostile forces. They do this via the magic that is chemical warfare. Countering Raids (”https://forums.giantitp.com/showsinglepost.php?p=25268074&postcount=179”) Going towards Trickery (Ambush)

0 AP Bless - Mwani v2 - Building upon the former solution to Sea Kings and expanding on it, Mchwa ships are poisonous to anyone who steps on board that is hostile or will be in the near future. Trade partners are fine, their fields and livestock are fine, the Mchwa themselves are fine, but a raider will find the first step their last. Using Kupikia Doa

1 AP Curse - Ukumbi - The insides of a Nyiga hive are poisonous to anyone outside of the society. Combined with the general layout of what amounts to a multistory termite mound lowers the odds of any invaders managing to get to the tunnel linking them and/or the nursery filled with the Buu.

Ending AP: 7 , no artifact charge, PAP in theory

Feathersnow

2021-11-22, 12:28 PM

canjowolf

2021-11-22, 09:37 PM

Divine Migration

The word had gone out among the tribes of the Garden. There were new lands beyond the sea, open and uncrowded. Though beyond Shadow's roots, these lands had accepted the Phihid, and they would accept the Gardeners too. And so they went. The animists offered passage aboard their ships, saying that their god had promised bodies for a war, but most of jungle folk preferred to take passage aboard the live ships, surrounded by the scents of the Phihid.

The Gardeners were a diverse people, and crossed the waters in numbers. From the diggers with their digging sticks, to the bronze casters with their bird nets and clay moulds. The firedancers with their frocks ablaze with crimson flowers, and the ashblades with their tiger-gray coats and obsidian knives. The dream singers and the wending whisperers. The smoke seers and the dwellers-in-darkness. The pious and the greedy. The nurturers and the fertilizers.

In Piedwald the jungle people found new flowers, new trees, and new weather. Certain times of the year the skywater turned the world blindingly white instead of blindingly black. The trees burned not so much with riotous flowers and with dying leaves, who bled themselves beautiful. And these were the inspiration for a new community in Piedwald. One in which a person walked alone, but found family wherever they went. One in which a person walked in rags or furs, despite being highly paid. A fraternity of holy assassins, killing for bronze, but also killing for political balance, and to slow the advance of the non-allies on the slig hives. The Autumn Leaves.

Some of the priests carried the seeds of Shadow, and planted them in slig cities. It took time for such trees to grow to power. Time and sacrifice. Who knew what names they would hold if they grew old?

The Evolution of Piracy

Poison? The peoples of Gardener civilization were no strangers to poison. So, to touch the enemy ship is to court death? Then why touch them? The cunning pirates began crafting sub-nautical boar-ding spears to hold the prey-ships in place. Shoes became more common, some with primitive studs and cleats for boarding actions. Ever popular, whips, nets, man-catchers, and polearms became more common. However, a code of piracy came to bear among these new-age pirates. Rather than take the time to hack apart poison ships or develop ship-specific antidotes to get at below-deck goods, some captains took a 'your money or your life' approach to piracy.

Care for a spot o' tea?
The pirates seemed confused by this request for a moment, but then a Gardener with a tight shawl around his head who reeked of garlic exclaimed "Oh, but you haven't had any tea yet. You're here looking for the Dread Pirate Corvus I take it" he said as he grabbed a bowl and began filling a few cups with tea. "She's not a Queen you know, Generalisimo" he said, as he carried over the tray of tea cups, and offered one to the aquatic creature. It was strong, and black, and smelled of tea. "And we were born with the sea salt caressing our faces. Why should the world be parted based on lines of sand? A more natural fit would be for you to prey on that which lies below the waves, and us to prey on that which lies above".

In the background, while many of the ship's inhabitants pay attention to the visitor, or the tea, others keep watch, and one stares at the fire while tossing in dried grasses. From somewhere in the heart of the ship came a smell like rotten eggs.

AP 5 held +5 rollover =10
-2 create Piedwald wild folk civilization - Anonymous Chaos
-1 create the Autumn Leaves organization - War
-0 (artifact) - The Curse of Piracy revives

Gunhaven

2021-11-23, 02:55 AM

Booster Gold

Ze rode forth from zer stable-ship to the command barge of the foreigners on zer war-ray.

Ze asked for permission to board, and, granted it, set tentacular feet on the mighty ship

"I am Booster Gold, Generalisimo of the Osedaxi! I wish to discuss the splitting of the world into territories we might mutually respect and terms under which we might allow neutral passage through them.

We are predators, let our violence be reserved for our prey!

"I propose that my fleet shall be granted Abdita, Krillix, and the Western Land. You shall have the Garden, Thirtha-din, and Cartisia. The southern shore of Piedwald will be yours, and we shall take the North.

In this way, your homeland will be protected, and your allies among the Sligs will not have a conflict of interest between supporting you and dealing with your privateer arm.

We have no terrestrial homeland, but our allies in Slin-Thirtha will likewise will not resent us for attacking them, but we have no reason to protect them from you."

The war in Krillix

The first attack was beaten back, but attempts to drive home the defeat were met with tragedy.

The Violet Triangle Host quickly pivoted from a mercenary force to defense contractors, helping the other Krillixi cities build defense pre-emptively.

There was little they knew to do against undermining, however...

Bistr'Khram and the Cutting Fleet

The Cutting Fleet, as it became known, was among the greatest undertakings in Slig history, an armada designed to transport Gardner civilians and mercenaries to Piedwald to provide defense against the grueling, inconclusive, war against The Calling loyalists.

Though the Garden was a matter of days away from Piedwald, The Cutting Fleet had to circumnavigate the globe, a task taking months, for Sea Kings and Osedaxi pirates were a less certain death than Thirthuan interdiction.

Along the way, they dropped off mercenaries in Krillix picked up in the Western Continent, and intercepted two supply fleets sent out from Abdita during the trip. They arrived empty of everything save their crews, to be filled by the colony on The Garden and their new colonists.

But, to get home, they would run the blockade!

The Collosus was mobilized offensively at a time pre-arranged by fumomancy to launch a strike at the Thirthuan land border. The cities of Krillix, in lieu of payment, were tasked to launch a coordinated strike at the blockade fleet

Tloc of Glimblisk himself arrived on The flagship of the Cutting Fleet, and, with a troop of wizard-bards, summoned a great shoal of smog to grant cover for the crossing.

Meanwhile, Bistr'Khram coordinated a third feint, a daring raid on Thirtha-Din's primary shipyards!

She-Who-Is-Ever-A-Part was in ultimate command, leading the Slig Queens to keep telepathic links to their children, then closing the communication loop through fumomancy on a scale hitherto of hypothetical.

In four days from the Cutting Fleet, the Gardner colonists made landfall on Piedwald, ready to cross Thirhuan territory through a hole carved out by the land offensive spearheaded by the Collosus.

Divine Migration

The word had gone out among the tribes of the Garden. There were new lands beyond the sea, open and uncrowded. Though beyond Shadow's roots, these lands had accepted the Phihid, and they would accept the Gardeners too. And so they went. The animists offered passage aboard their ships, saying that their god had promised bodies for a war, but most of jungle folk preferred to take passage aboard the live ships, surrounded by the scents of the Phihid.

The Gardeners were a diverse people, and crossed the waters in numbers. From the diggers with their digging sticks, to the bronze casters with their bird nets and clay moulds. The firedancers with their frocks ablaze with crimson flowers, and the ashblades with their tiger-gray coats and obsidian knives. The dream singers and the wending whisperers. The smoke seers and the dwellers-in-darkness. The pious and the greedy. The nurturers and the fertilizers.

In Piedwald the jungle people found new flowers, new trees, and new weather. Certain times of the year the skywater turned the world blindingly white instead of blindingly black. The trees burned not so much with riotous flowers and with dying leaves, who bled themselves beautiful. And these were the inspiration for a new community in Piedwald. One in which a person walked alone, but found family wherever they went. One in which a person walked in rags or furs, despite being highly paid. A fraternity of holy assassins, killing for bronze, but also killing for political balance, and to slow the advance of the non-allies on the slig hives. The Autumn Leaves.

Some of the priests carried the seeds of Shadow, and planted them in slig cities. It took time for such trees to grow to power. Time and sacrifice. Who knew what names they would hold if they grew old?

The Evolution of Piracy

Poison? The peoples of Gardener civilization were no strangers to poison. So, to touch the enemy ship is to court death? Then why touch them? The cunning pirates began crafting sub-nautical boar-ding spears to hold the prey-ships in place. Shoes became more common, some with primitive studs and cleats for boarding actions. Ever popular, whips, nets, man-catchers, and polearms became more common. However, a code of piracy came to bear among these new-age pirates. Rather than take the time to hack apart poison ships or develop ship-specific antidotes to get at below-deck goods, some captains took a 'your money or your life' approach to piracy.

Care for a spot o' tea?
The pirates seemed confused by this request for a moment, but then a Gardener with a tight shawl around his head who reeked of garlic exclaimed "Oh, but you haven't had any tea yet. You're here looking for the Dread Pirate Corvus I take it" he said as he grabbed a bowl and began filling a few cups with tea. "She's not a Queen you know, Generalisimo" he said, as he carried over the tray of tea cups, and offered one to the aquatic creature. It was strong, and black, and smelled of tea. "And we were born with the sea salt caressing our faces. Why should the world be parted based on lines of sand? A more natural fit would be for you to prey on that which lies below the waves, and us to prey on that which lies above".

In the background, while many of the ship's inhabitants pay attention to the visitor, or the tea, others keep watch, and one stares at the fire while tossing in dried grasses. From somewhere in the heart of the ship came a smell like rotten eggs.

AP 5 held +5 rollover =10
-2 create Piedwald wild folk civilization - Anonymous Chaos
-1 create the Autumn Leaves organization - War
-0 (artifact) - The Curse of Piracy revives

The Evolution of Piracy
With the change of tactics came a change in attitude towards pirates and brigands stopping the Mchwa ships. While it was a little unorthodox their previous blessings insured that trade wouldn't hinder them much and so they gladly handed over enough goods to feed the pirates for their journeys. They were ultimately farmers after all and viewed it as an opportunity to simply expand their recipes and potentially get new ingredients to distribute. It was only a matter of time, though, before some of the captains/head chefs decided to include a gift from the Cultivated Cauldron. One that would change those who drank it into one blessed by Chakta.
There'll be an opportunity for pirates to become Kifukofuko. They're a subrace of racial powered races, so I don't think Legendary races are covered. The shared thread for them has been sensing pheromones and an insectile exoskeleton so far in case y'all wanted to do one for your own races. Honestly I'll probably spend the AP and do full blown subraces instead of treating it like a template at this point.

The War on Krillix
The stalemate lasted days, and then weeks, and soon the month anniversary was had. During the entire time the Nyiga never left their first hive beyond simple defensive rounds and the odd Nyuki repairing the hive against the constant droning and buzzing from within. On the anniversary though, there was a rumble and suddenly a trio of Minyoo emerged and corkscrewed around the first Krillix hive. They spiraled around the hive and rose nearly 70 feet in the air before finally tapering off into a point. At the same time immature Minyoo popped out of the ground on the outlaying islands, unleashing another wave of Kipepeo, Mwibi, and Mzinga arrayed in phalanxes of their own and armed with Mfupa javelins.

Spilling into the Serpentways
A second spire emerged where the Nyiga initially formed that matched the Mnara on Krillix, except double the height to account for the increased dimensions. Unfortunately such an expansion caused the Minyoo spreading out to finally breach the already existing tunnels under the Nuarahan Desert. In reality it was a miracle that such an accident didn't happen sooner. After the first couple breaches Mwibi and Mzinga began to explore the new land under the sand, inevitably running into Nechustani and losing enough of the initial encounters to spread word of strange Venuxi-like beings armed with bone weapons and armor. They'd always return for the fallen, however.
Starting AP: 7 + 5 Rollover
Artifact Charges Kupikia Doa: 1/1
Pantheon AP Heroics: 1/1 (¾ AP spent on forming it, 2/4 AP spent on mythic concept)

1 AP Teach Advanced Concept - Phalanxes - Bees with Bone Shields and Javelins provide the shell for their take on Phalanxes, with Wasps and poisoned Javelins acting as their primary attackers. Moths wait in the middle until melee combat begins so that they can paralyze their foes. Going towards Trickery Ambush)
2 AP Alter Land - Mnaras - Two large spires have emerged and become the closest thing to capitals for the Nyiga. One is on Abdita where they first emerged (gonna say the little bit of land that bulges out from the coast just north of the Nuarahan Desert if that works) and the other is in Krillix (on the northeast Atoll, probably the most northern part and extending slightly into the ocean). Going towards Trickery Ambush)

The hives are roughly 40 stories tall and a quarter of kilometer wide normally. The Mnara in Krillix is roughly 80 stories tall and a kilometer wide and the Mnara in Abdita is over a hundred stories tall and a kilometer and a half wide. Which seems like a lot but termite mounds are massive in the first place and I, like a fool, made everything pony and dog sized.

MrAbdiel

2021-11-27, 08:44 AM

It doesn’t take much for the Nechustani to react with alarm to the emergence of the Ngiya within their holdings. The Serpentways have been unbreached and exclusively the province of the pale elves for all time spanning back to before the advent of language. And greater Abdita had largely been their territory to run, with the exception of the now integrated insectile races of the south and the hostile forest of the interior. Now, not only was the homeland threatened by invaders, but it was threatened by invaders who had sprung up inside of a generation. But just as alarming was the nature of the attackers - amidst the varied forms, warped and altered forms of the Venuxi and Ghilliandi. Or perhaps primordial forms, from which the known kind were warped? Was this a cthonic progenitor, vomited up from the deep - or some viral antagonist visiting itself upon captive races? It would take some time to learn an approximation of the truth.

What wouldn’t wait was a response to the border clashes. Gallingly, the Ngiya have a stronger tactical set: a naturally hive and cooperation based species playing naturally together in their phalanxes more advanced than the strike-and-flank hunter tactics the elves had developed from their clashes with the Venuxi. And their now-allied Venuxi and Ghilliandi defenders were adapted to surface warfare, not tunnel clashes. A new threat required new adaptations; and in defense of their sacred home, the pale elves rose to the threat.

Rather than catch up to the tactics of the Ngiya, the defenders came to undermine them. Scouts with an intimate knowledge of the spidering lava tubes tracked and warned of incoming hosts of Ngiya. Small groups engaged long enough to throw their bronze-headed spears only to retreat into the darkness as the phalanx adapted to new facing; sometimes emerging from another angle, sometimes quitting the field entirely and leaving the invaders paralyzed in frustrating defensive posture.

Arah-Huana joins the fight himself, albeit obliquely; for the first time since the first days, there are sightings of the Nakash boring through the black sands, collapsing disused tunnels and creating entirely new ones. While the hunting habits of the colossal magma serpents do not lend themselves to attacking armies of insectoids directly, their movements do open up tactical options for the Nechustani, who are masters of their native tunnels.

Elsewhere, explorers from Dauah’Kha discover the puzzling remnants of an old civilization - by the residual art, small felines with a cheerful temperament who fled into the space between the stars. The idea that the realms beyond the First World are open for exploration and claiming by those with the will to manifest their destiny there catches fire in the Nechustani who hear it, and soon there is a flocking from all corners to the Sunstone Isles, with skilled arcanists in league with the merely bold and willing to discover the history of these creatures, and how they escaped the confines of the first world. The unseen will of Arah-Huana makes its approval of this movement apparent to them by opening the sealed portal in the Sunstone Isles, and from that place the elves begin mounting expeditions into the Wellspring and its connected realms.

From there, the leaps this new society - the Shoka’Kha - makes are staggering. They innovations do not immediately migrate to the rest of the Nechustani - they are wild ideas, and the Nechustani do not change quickly - but their implications are massive. Notably, encounters with the demons and elementals that infest the outer realms force arcane adaptations that lead to competing efforts to combat them. One school of thought discovers that a weapon prepared with certain runic iconography copied from the Kittess structures is highly conductive to arcane energies, and permits a sword or spear to absorb and retain elemental power for use in combat. Hunting parties with fire-ensorcelled weapons hunt the ice elementals; those with ice-spears hunt the fire elementals. But the demons do not fit this dynamic, and the second school of thought is effective against them: an experimental manipulation of portal magics that forces passivity or obedience on such creatures. The malice of those beasts will, over time, spell the death of many overconfident Nechustani binders; but the price is paid, and eventually, the power of their purchase will be felt in the First World.

7 AP before rollover!

1 AP - Create Racial Society - Shoko’Kha (Discounted by Perdition Sluice) (The Planes (Mastery) 1/10)

A society of forward thinking Nechustani and associated races based on the Sunstone Isles, dedicated to the exploration and mastery of the outer realms.

1 AP - Create Advanced Concept - Asymmetrical Warfare (Discounted by Midwife of Blades) (Life (Innovation 1/10))

In response to outside pressures, the Nechustani systematize the guerrilla operations that would otherwise languish as simple hunter tactics. Targeting supply chains, hit-and-run assaults, advanced feints and withdrawals and scorched earth readiness to sacrifice resources are all brought into common use to abate the creeping arrival of the Ngiya.

1 AP - Create Monstrous Life - Nakash - (Life (Innovation) 2/10)

The Nakash are the ancient tools of Arah-Huana; primordial magma serpents whose leviathan passage created the Serpentways. Their size varies greatly, when they are seen; and they are difficult to measure, because they so rarely expose themselves fully to the surface where their dimensions might be clearer. Most have a skull height of about five meters, which one might expect to be attached to a body up to two hundred and fifty meters long. But there are lava tubes in the Serpentways that are dozens of meters from floor to ceiling; which would suggest there are specimens that may have truly staggering dimensions. Their hides are covered in black, thorny scales made of a substance that feels like obsidian; and their bodies radiate sufficient heat in an intuitive, controlled way that they can push their way easily through sand and with effort through stone leaving a cooling, vitrified passage in their wake. In combat against creatures of size, they have two strengths - a murderously hot constriction of their body around their prey, and a bite that injects molten steel from reservoirs within the Nakash's skull. Obviously, having molten steel injected into one's body is catastrophic; but as a secondary feature, the harvesting of the occasional corpse of a Landeater with a vascular matrix of cooled steel is one of the only ways the Nechustani are presently able to access the metal.

Presently, the Nakash are not controlled by the Nechustani; but the elves are competent in tracking their movements, and making use of the new lavatubes for their ongoing struggle against the Ngiya.

0 AP - Open Portal (The Drum)

The Portal from the First World to the Wellspring located within the Sunstone Isles is open.

2 AP Create Mythical Sub-Concept (Magic - Captured Enchantment) (The Planes (Mastery) 2/10)

A school of quasi-enchantment that involves runecarving on weapons that are then exposed to elemental forces to 'soak up' that raw magical potential. The 'charge' of these weapons lasts for about a year, leading to the beginning of an industry built around carrying a family weapon to acquire a particular charge from the Elemental Storm, and expeditions to charge many weapons to outfit many individuals. The full military application of this magic has not yet been conceived of.

2 AP Create Mythical Sub-Concept (Magic - Binding Magic) (The Planes (Mastery) 4/10)

A school of magic intuited from the planar centrality of the First World, built around certain magical principles that 'outsider' creatures are vulnerable to that natives to the first world are not. Demons, elementals, and other monsters from outside of the First World can be 'turned' or even enslaved and pressed into service this way. For now, the magic's primary use is to make the Nechustani advance into the Planes a little less wildly hostile to them.

Feathersnow

2021-11-27, 11:54 AM

The War in Krillix
Rekexi geneticists labored hard on samples of fallen Nyiga and the greatest of their wizards eventually managed to revive enough flesh for a chimera.

And it bred true, under the will of Slingid, against all natural law. Within a few years, the first Kaiju were spawned

= AP actions
5 create Mythic life- Kaiju

Truly terrible monsters that can be dominated by Rekexi mind magic

Blessing (artifact)- improved chimera breeding

Life (science) 9/10

Create monstrous life- necro-chimerae
These monsters can be used to breed outside lines into domestic forms.
Life (Science) 10/10

Slingid ascends!

Gunhaven

2021-12-03, 07:01 PM

MrAbdiel

2021-12-04, 06:09 AM

canjowolf

2021-12-04, 06:46 PM

As the migrants from the Garden established communities across Piedwald, a new culture formed, the Piedwaldi Freeholds. These were loosely connected small towns, villages, and trade-sheds tied together by shared culture, religion, and ethnic makeup. Still using primarily the wood and stone tools of the mother-jungle, as the fruit of the metal trees became more common across the world and the metalsmithing trades spread, metal items became more common in the Piedwaldi Freeholds as well.

AP - 2: Create Culture - the Piedwaldi Freeholds.

Gunhaven

2021-12-10, 10:32 AM

The War Beneath Abdita continues, and each side strives to adapt faster to the nature and tactics of the other. Soon, it becomes clear to King Asphodel that this is the nature of their war - one of competitive adaptation. Time alone will tell if the minds of collaborative luminaries, or the coagulated hive intellect of their enemy, is best suited to the process.

As the chitinous invaders begin displaying alarming and uncanny abilities to detect movement underground and the best minds amongst the desert elves are speculating around the reason, the forces of the Empire of the Black Sands make their next move - exploitation of their colourful and toxic vassals. Nechustani guerrillas begin using chemical agents deployed in smoking, perforated brass spheres; the smoke emerging a chemical derived by the best alchemical efforts of Nechustani minds and their Ghilliandi suppliers. The effects are wildly varied, from none at all to full body paralysis; but the full spread of the weapon's benefit is the regularity with which the Ghilliandi who supply the toxic bases are able to modify and reinvent their makeup. The primative biochemists responsible for this devious practise keep elaborate records of the names of each compound, where they were used, how effective they were, and how quickly the enemy adapts, if at all.

Elsewhere, in the depths of the planes, a splinter of the explorer tribe travels down the Wellspring's river to the most hellish location a Nechustani can imagine - Hvittmaudh. With eternal night and relentlessly cold, it is bitterly aggressive to the desert elves; and they are sustained only by a quickly established trade with the Shoko'Kha who supply them with fire elemental subjugants which warm their small settlement until they burn out entirely, to be rapidly replaced. How these new Hveet'Kha intend to repay the Shoko'Kha is not clear - and for now, they spiral into debt, and desperation to find something about this awful frostscape to exploit.

7AP before Rollover.

1 AP - Create Advanced Concept - Primitive Biochemical Warfare (Discounted by Midwife of Blades) (Life (Innovation) 3/10)

Interaction with the Ghilliandi members of the Empire produces a class of chemists whose specific studies include testing and mapping the effects of the Ghilliandi toxins in their varieties; the the production of the most effective combinations of it for particular foes, often delivered in unconventional ways.

1 AP - Create Racial Society - Haveet'Kha (Discounted by Perdition Sluice) (The Planes (Mastery) 5/10)

A colony of especially enterprising Nechustani splits off from the Shoko'Kha, and establishes a small, struggling society on the banks of the Wellspring river flowing into Hvittmaudh. They do badly there - the cold and the night leaves them helpless but for the captured elementals and elemental magic they must burn through to exist there.

5AP Remaining.

The War in Krillix
Rekexi geneticists labored hard on samples of fallen Nyiga and the greatest of their wizards eventually managed to revive enough flesh for a chimera.

And it bred true, under the will of Slingid, against all natural law. Within a few years, the first Kaiju were spawned

= AP actions
5 create Mythic life- Kaiju

Truly terrible monsters that can be dominated by Rekexi mind magic

Blessing (artifact)- improved chimera breeding

Life (science) 9/10

Create monstrous life- necro-chimerae
These monsters can be used to breed outside lines into domestic forms.
Life (Science) 10/10

Slingid ascends!

The War in Krillix
For a moment there didn’t seem to be an obvious response to their fallen gathered up and stitched together in some mockery of their form. And then, from the Mnara, slowly emerged what could best be described as a cloud. Others soon emerged and began to casually float through the sky, staying out of range of any of the weapons used by the Sligs. Once there was a half dozen mingling with the clouds they finally decided to take down one of the abominations, a swarm of Mwiba and Mzinga buzzed out and stung the massive creature until it finally fell in battle, the corpses added to the greater whole that was the Nyiga.

The War Under Abdita
There was a definite change in tactics once chemical warfare was introduced against the invaders. The Nyiga reacted instantly to the use of toxic gases against them, with the pheromones used to signal the invaders derived. Sure, eventually they’d come up with some other pheromone to use but then the formula could be quickly adjusted. The most observant of the enemy could even tell when new generations are born with the shift of their signals

But the victory only lasted a few years, with the Nyiga being beaten back to the tunnels they first spilled out of and into the Serpentway. Before they could be fully expelled, though, they revealed the tricks used against them in their own bone censers sent rolling down the tunnels that would paralyze or infect their enemies. Their own knowledge and tactics were used against them, with the secret revealing itself when a group of Nyiga were tempted away from a downed group of Nechustani who were missing their brains already.

Throughout the World
Emerging from the hives away from any sort of battlefield were strange humanoids that from a distance could be confused for a Halessian, Nechustani, or Nyoka. It was only on closer inspection that they didn’t quite match any of the other races; the tips of their ears being the easiest indication that they were some sort of half-breed. Most of these Mtu left the hives alone and instead mingled with Mchwa farming villages and ships, serving under the Nyoka or Uduvi as simple crewmen.

Starting AP: 11 AP+ 5 AP Rollover
Artifact Charges Kupika Doa: 1/1
Pantheon AP Heroics: 1/1

5 AP Create Legendary Race - Mfuko - For once a new race instead of some bastardization of another race, Mfuko are massive bulbous forms that float lazily through the air. Within each of them is a hive of Nyiga with small openings big enough to allow a platoon to fly out and defend them. Most of them have a trio of layers to provide floatation, with one of them absolutely necessary to keep it aloft and each bulb being as tough as chitin. Advancing Life (Swarms)

3 AP Create Legendary Subrace - Mfugaji - A subrace of Mwiba that look more like a wasp queen enlarged to the size of a horse, Mfugaji serve as queens for Nyiga hives that aren’t the main one on Abdita. Their main purpose is to birth Buu and thus expand hives. Much like a queen they can adjust Buu so that other races can evolve from said larvae, helping ensure that cannibalism and hunting aren’t the only way to ensure a hive continues. Advancing Life (Swarms)

1 AP Create Subrace - Mtu - A subrace of Nechustani, Halessian, or Nyoka that serves as a good solid analog to the humanoid form for those touched by Chakta. Most consider those with bits of chitin instead of flesh to be more blessed than those who can pass themselves off as half-Nechustani half-Halessian. Unlike every other race that makes up those touched by Chakta Mtu don’t reproduce via eggs or via transforming those who drink a strange brew. Advancing Life (Swarms)

2 AP Create Mythic Subconcept - Essence Consumption - The most common form of Essence Consumption is devouring a sentient’s brain, allowing the consumer to gain the knowledge contained within. However the ability can be used to explain gaining knowledge from reading a book or some magical ability from a magical material

0 AP Bless - Siki - The Mchwa and Nyiga are able to preserve the Essence of some object until it’s time to consume it. For the most part this is either so that the Mchwa can trade said essence more easily or so that the Nyiga can spread knowledge from their enemies to hives that otherwise wouldn’t fight said enemies.

1 AP Teach Advanced Concept - Primitive Biochemical Warfare - After eating some tasty Nechustani brains, the Nyiga learn the basics of chemical warfare. With all the alchemy available (and their natural venom) they can mimic their foe’s advances with the added joy that is using Mwiba venom to infect foes with Buu.
Ending AP: 4

Intermediate, let’s go!