Pan-aeons: a God Game

[Batcathat]

Palan An's Workshop, the Boa Jungle

"Yes!" he shouted moments after shattering the clay cast against his table, revealing the item within. "Yesyesyesyesyes!"

Palan An leaned closer and examined the object. It didn't really look that special at a glance. A metal needle the length of a human finger and so thin it was barely visible against the wood, ending in a point sharper than any dagger.

Still, as strenuous as making the needle itself had been - the shattered remains of imperfect casts formed a small hill in his backyard - it was nothing compared to the layers upon layers of magic bound to it.

He carefully picked up the still cooling needle and held it up to the light, scrutinizing every part of. Perfection.

Suddenly the light changed. Palan An spun around, suddenly face to face with two women, one of them - with a hovering ball of leather and metal chained to her - looking at him and the other curiously studying his tool rack.

"Palan An", the first woman said just as his mind caught up with his eyes, and he realized who they were. With an almost inaudible clink the needle hit the ground and soon after Palan An's knees followed.

"Honored Thal-Verys", he said, kneeling and staring at the ground between them. "I'm not worthy."

The other woman, now comparing two hammers to each other, cleared her throat.

"Oh", he swallowed a curse as he bowed his head towards her. "Honored Ymon-Desha."

"You're not worthy?"

"What?" Confused, he actually met her eyes.

"You said you weren't worthy of her." She pointed at Thal-Verys. "Are you saying you're worthy of me?"

"Ehh..."

Thal-Verys rolled her eyes. "Desha. Do not torment him." She turned back to Palan An. "Stand up."

Palan An stood up and his aching knees told him he was far too old to literally fall to his knees.

"We are Thal-Verys Twice-Blessed, Shepherd of the Passing and Ymon-Desha, the Spear..."

"He knows who we are", Ymon-Desha interrupted. "She got a thing for long introductions. Sorry."

Thal-Verys glared at Ymon-Desha and took a deep breath. "We are sent here by He who is both Life and Death. Your work... is of interest to him, Palan An."

[Godzillarich]

Graw - Morganada, the beach of Ostrom

Cheek shook himself off as he walked upon the shore. He mumbled to himself “I’ve met many pretentious *******s and bitches but Violin takes the fu…” Cheek stopped himself. He saw Graw, sitting on the shore looking at the sunset. “...Graw? What are you doing on the shore? Never took it as a beach person” Cheek yelled as he ran up to Graw.

The massive skeleton did not turn his head but simply looked upon the sunset. ”Is it not...a thing of beauty...let us watch it… set”

Cheek turned his head towards the sea. “Well, when it’s not a crazy mad egotist it can be... somewhat interesting to look at.” Graw did not respond to Cheek’s comments but instead continue booking to the sea. “Did violin mess you up that much?”

Graw turned towards his friend ”The cycle is coming again…

“WHAT!” Cheek yelled in absolute horror. “How do you know? Why is it happening again?” Graw remained silent. “Wait, you know it’s coming, maybe you can stop it somehow?”

” Nothing can stop it” Graw spoke solely turning back into his Stopit form. ”...nothing can stop... What is coming…


Cheek fell to his knees. “But...the Prehist still need you…” Tears started coming down the raptor’s eyes. “I still… I still need you, I can’t lose you after everything we’ve been through, not like cactus.”

Graw lightly kissed the side of Cheeks face. ”All things end… But there will be a new beginning… You became everything your teacher… Cactus thought you could be...I know you will become… even greater than that…much like the Prehist will… much like my children the... tongues and terrors will…and this world will… grow strong enough… To defy the Titans...” Graw then turned to the sunset. Graw cozied up to Cheek ”but for now… Let us enjoy… The sunset… One last time…” Cheek nodded and sat down with his love one last time as the sun disappeared over the horizon.


....last time for now anyway…

Spoiler: Action

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18 AP/14 DC: influence a country of mortals (~10M) Develop the cities and cultures of Morganada.

The history of the Prehist after the war with the Empire has been one of paranoia and mistrust. The people did not really develop outside of the Golden city and there was a growing xenophobia against all those that Ostrom deemed destructive. Many of these people were often ostracize and banished to the undeveloped poor countryside, this hit its peak with Nero which causes the Prehist to culturally and morally fall to a new low however, there will be a new beginning.

Development plan: The plan was to kill two birds with one stone, to expand the Prehist control of the mostly untamed countryside, and to fix the massive poverty problem with those living on the countryside. It was decided that new cities would be constructed that were equal to the majesty of Ostrom. These cities would answer to Ostrom but would have political powers to give the cities and people a voice. Each of these cities would have a patron God that Graw will ask for their blessing in helping to develop.

Cites:
+2 knowledge, +2 mining, +2 architecture, +2 heroism, +1 writing, +1 singing.

Uyellic: over the centuries relationships between the Prehist and the steppes have been best categorized as awful. The increasing xenophobia and treatment of the cult was something the people of the Steppe could not tolerate. Trade was heavily damaged because of this. The new leadership decided this needed to be amended. To help mend the relationship between their people they built the port city of Uyellic on the upper reaches of Morganada. The city would become a thriving trade center and become one of the wealthiest Cites in Morganada and have some of the strongest influence next to Ostrom

Basalik Islands: An island that Nero banished many of the Cult to during his reign that’s in the bottom center of the continent. It will be developed between the cult and the Prehist to help improve relations and the city will be owned by countries. It will also have a military Academy that will be used by both sides to train troops. The idea is if they train as brothers they would have a harder time being convinced to murder each other if tensions rose.

Juniper planes: Another place where the unwanted were banished. This case being the followers this case Followers of the Divine Owl. however, unlike most groups they do not suffer, they wanted to live in nature, and this given the opportunity. In fact they pushed back against any architectural development. The Prehist agreed and instead made it a nature reserve and let the Owl forge their own destiny in the wild. However, like all the other cities they do have political sway.

The Cactus Trench: A city founded by the legendary hero Cheek. And on the ground city entirely made up of Choblins. Many of these small terrors immigrated to Morganada searching for a better life. Making up about 70% of the immigration population in the first 20 years. This has to do with three things, to see the legendary hero Cheek, to find a better life with most of them being of the poor class of their own home country and the fact that Choblins really like to go around moving the places that will stop them. Many of them joined Cheek in the foundation of a new network system that expanded all across Morganada.

--2 unknown: these cities along with other areas generally growing mistrust of each other. Ostrom does not approve Uyellic capitalist ways and worries about losing its influence with Uyellic growing power. There is still much bad blood between the cult and the Prehist, the Owl have grown irritated with the Chobins constantly not respecting their boundaries and taking sacred stuff. Choblins and Uyellic have sort of a class struggle with the Choblins. The owls fear that the Uyellic pillage their land for profit, ETC.

Feel free to add your own cities or expand upon the lore of existing ones

[flyinglemur]

A Father's last gift: starring Rurin Sporeweaver and Celia Ironhide in the palace at Rokanon

It was a few days after Sporeweaver had learned the truth, and he and Celia were poring over scrolls from the royal archives, looking for any useful scrap of magical knowledge. So far they had failed entirely, none of their ideas had held up, and Ironhide was beginning to grow restless.

“It’s official, I hate magical theory,” she said dropping her scroll and hanging her head in resignation.

“Really?” asked Sporeweaver, “You loved studying with CAT, and you were always proposing new experiments.”

“That’s was different. It felt more … tangible. We were looking at real spells and real bodies. Everything was more immediate. So far all this reading has done is give me a headache.”

“Maybe it felt quick to you,” Rurin said, “But only because you left when it came to look at the data and crunch the numbers. Not to mention all the records we had to take, let alone the treatise we had to give to all those nosy elders. I burnt through an entire set of hands trying to write it all down in triplicate. I still have nightmares.”

Ironhide laughed, “You look into souls but paperwork scares you?”

“Necromancy isn’t scary. If anything it makes me feel … nostalgic,” he gave a wistful sigh, “If only Longtail could see what I’ve done. Maybe in another life.”

“Longtail was your teacher right?” asked Celia.

Sporeweaver thought before responding, “More than that. He was like … a father to me. Other Ceros take pride in the clutch structure, but I honestly think we could learn a lesson from human families. It was because of him that I became a necromancer. Longtail got me a book of my choice, from any school I wanted, well except pyromancy.”

“That seems like a strange exception. Isn’t it just another foreign school?”

“He had heard some nasty rumors about it. Apparently it’s too hard to control the flames, so it’s really easy to injure yourself until you reach mastery.”

The realization hit both of them like bolt of lightning, and everything that had happened in last twelve centuries was suddenly justified. Ironhide stood up and hugged Sporeweaver’s head, tears flowing out of her eyes.

“Rurin you’re getting a mask and a statue!”

[Batcathat]

Palan An's Workshop, the Boa Jungle

"Has... has my work angered the Twin God?" Palan An asked. "I..."

"Quite the opposite", Thal-Verys interrupted. "He is intrigued by your efforts."

That was something of a stretch. Bordering on an outright lie, Ymon-Desha reflected. Ymon-Thal was barely even aware of Palan An and his work and even that was only thanks to the mortals in the Verysian Order. Though it suited the mission Ymon-Thal had given the demigoddesses well enough.

"Let me see it", Thal-Verys said and without waiting for a reply she gestured at the needle on the floor and it flew into her hand. The covers of her chained sun shifted, opening up a gap for it to shine through and she held up the needle towards the light.

Items enchanted with necromancy were common among the Yith, Palan An himself had a soul bound to the necklace he wore and several of his tools showed signs of the same, even if no souls were in them at the moment. The needle was something similar but also very different.

"So... necromancy without a necromancer, is that the idea?"

"Eh, yes", Palan An replied, still unsure whether their interest was a good thing or not. "Our people benefit greatly from the knowledge and guidance of our ancestors but we are limited by what the Disciples of Thal and other necromancers have time for." He was noticeably more confident when talking about his project. "With a Junction..."

"Junction?" asked Ymon-Desha.

"That's what I've been calling it, a Junction of Life and Death", Palan An said. "Anyway, with a Junction anyone can be bound to a willing soul and take part of its wisdom."

"As long as you have enough Junctions", Ymon-Desha said, now standing next to her sort-of-sister and studying the needle. "This one took you how long?"

"Well... four moons. But I think I could cut that in half with..."

"No. That will not do", Thal-Verys said. Palan An opened his mouth, suddenly a shade paler, but Thal-Verys gestured at him to stay silent.

"What she's saying is that we'll help. Anyone will be able to use them and anyone will be able to make them. Well, with Ymon-Thal's permission, of course."

Thal-Verys frowned but nodded in agreement and as she focused her powers on the needle in her hand she remembered a saying she'd heard as a child, about how even the smallest pebble can start a landslide.

Spoiler: Action!

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Create a collection of lesser magical items (10 AP/6 DC)

Ymon-Thal allows a Junction of Life and Death to be created by anyone with his blessing and combining not only life (+ 2 Life) and death (+ 2 Death), but body (+ 2 Body) and soul (+ 2 Soul).

Physically a Junction of Life and Death (usually referred to as just "a Junction") only looks like a very thin metal needle, about the same length as a finger. Many choose to decorate the blunt end, usually with a precious stone of some kind, but that is more about fashion than function. Every Junction receives the blessing of Ymon-Thal, to replicate the intricate sorcery of the original Junction (though the blessing mimics its effects it strictly speaking isn't sorcery and cannot be removed, changed or enchanted as such).

To use the Junction it has to be touching the user's brain or spine, which is usually done by pushing it through the skull (the most common place is either above an eye or in the middle of the forehead but almost anywhere on the head or along the spine will do) until only the end (complete with whatever decoration is currently trending) of the needle is visible. Thanks to the blessing the needle can be inserted fairly easily and without damage to the surrounding area – though not without a fair amount of pain.

Any soul who wishes to can instantly bond with the Junction, and through that with the living person using it. As with most Necromancy it only works with willing souls (technically a strong enough Necromancer could force a soul to bond with the Junction but at that point it's no longer a function of the Junction itself). The bond works exactly as one made through necromancy, aside from being faster and not requiring any sorcery. The living person can access any skill or knowledge of the bonded soul (personal memories can be shared by only if the soul wishes to do so) and in return the soul gets to share the physical sensations of the living person in addition to getting to feel like "themselves" rather than the usual detached state of a soul in the Passing. As an alternative, a soul can also choose to "slumber" within the Junction, essentially sleeping indefinitely while still providing the living with most of the advantages of the bond.

In addition, a soul can carry messages (including "copies" of a living user's memories) between people and since they can travel through the Passing they can usually reach their destination within minutes at most.

A Junction can only house a single soul at a time, though there is no limit on how many Junctions an individual can use.

[DarthArminius]

Su'ule

Su'ule is a powerful witch and goddess, but she has exhausted nearly all of her magical strength during this era.

She expends the last of her strong energies to provide a home for the surviving Tongues. This cave would be warm, and hospitable, capable of housing a thousand of them. The Tongues would enjoy all the blessings of Su'ule.

Spoiler

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-6 AP = 0
the magical cave blesses all Tongues who live in it/them with a higher tolerance for cold, is naturally much warmer than outside, AND also blesses their off spring with a single magical talent. Fungi that are edible for the Tongues also grow in abundance.
+ 2 Sorcery: The Tongue's descendants will be born with a magical talent
+ 2 Monsters: Occasionally, faithful Tongues will have children born as "improved" members of the species. Born with more than one magical ability, and physically transformed into something more like a dragon or other creature.
+ 1 Birth
(Influence Land)

[flyinglemur]

Ironhide had assured him that the human problem had been solved, and with the Moon mother pearls working on the great river the Dramos problem would be solved as well. Thus Dulnori’s final creation of the age would be a solution to the Ceros problem. Of course, he was never one for anything small or subtle, and so he decided to construct a tree most beautiful, with every ounce of his power crammed in.

Spoiler: Action:

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Create minion race 12 AP/8 DC:

Witchwood: Large trees with purple bark and succulent pink fruit edible even by carnivors, holding various blessings from Dulnori. Their mental capacity is the same as normal plants, though witchwood will recognize Dulnori, and the chosen leader of the Horizon Tribe along with their spouse, bending at their will. When grown close to manacaps they have a natural symbiosis. Both organisms growth is naturally sped up, while normal plant growth spells used on the witchwood tree take no effect and instead drain into the mycelium network.

+2 Fortune: Witchwood trees are lucky, and thus are proofed against disaster and accident, with a supernatural rate of survival from lightening strikes, wildfires, floods etc.
+2 Ambition: The primary and most integral blessing. witchwood is natural tool, very pliable and easy to work with. This enables great progress and achievement, with useful parts for tools and structures being easily obtained. Given the proper tools, people can accomplish great things. This applies beyond just mundane work though, witchwood is naturally pliable to magic as well. For example, a sorcerer casting on them finds it significantly easier, and alchemic decanters have increased effects.
+1 Dream: When a golden dragon dies, it will transform into a witchwood seedling. This state is like sleeping, with the golden dragons senses remaining dormant, though it still dreams and can enter other’s dreams, and through this it regains strength. One day of course the witchwood will die, and as that happens an egg forms in its place. The egg doesn’t hatch until it reaches a safe place, and if smashed will simply become another witchwood. To prevent exploitation, witchwoods born from golden dragons killed just to make them will produce only foul wood and fruit poison to the exploiters. A golden dragon reborn from witchwood will not fully remember its past life, though some traces of it will remain, and in dreams they may hear their old whispering wisdom to them.
+2 Harken Steppe: These trees grow very well and quite quickly in the Harken Steppe, despite the environment being unfavorable for most trees.
+1 Sailing: Boats made from witchwood are naturally tough and fast, with an unusual good ability to sail against strong winds and currents.
+2 Moon: Witch fruit can be prepared in a special ritual on a half moon, which dries the fruit, reducing it to a powder. The resultant product is typically mixed with water, producing a sweet tasting drink with Petrian properties, thus acting as a potent medicine for illness and mollifying Terror bloodlust.

[The JoJo]

Avestra, Juniper Plains, Morganada

Avestra took one last journey across the world, admiring her handiwork. The Owl faith renewed and thriving, balloon plants making their staid journey across the planet, karma ensuring that those who lived in harmony with nature were rewarded and for those who despoiled the natural world, vice versa. Still, there was so much more she would have liked to have done, given the time. She could only hope that Kismet, the Owl Folk and, of course, her beloved Crows would be able to hang on until she returned.

Spoiler: Help!

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Assist Graw with his influence action with:

+2 Nature: The Juniper Plains are a fertile region, mostly rolling grasslands interspersed with light woodland. Its inhabitants, largely Followers of the Divine Owl, live a simple, agrarian lifestyle crafted to have a minimal impact on the surrounding environment. By sacred treaty, the Juniper Plains are protected from exploitation by the other cities of Morganada.

+1 Reproduction: A peculiar tradition among the Owl folk living in the Juniper Plains is that, upon reaching young adulthood, they will go to join a mission in one of the other cities of Morganada. There, they will spend between two or three years preaching the way of Avestra and at the same time, experiencing life in the outside world. After their mission is complete, they have the choice whether to stay or return to home—the vast majority opting for the familiarity of the latter. The occasional convert gained during their mission helps keep the Juniper Plains population stable.

Spoiler: Help!

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Assist Petr to create the Celestials with +2 Birds. The Celestials will have deep, spiritual relationship with all kinds of birds, sharing the skies with their feathered brothers and sisters. No bird would ever willingly allow a Celestial to come to harm in their presence. In turn, it will be utterly taboo for any Celestial to intentionally slay a wild bird.

[Batcathat]

Ymon-Thal, the Boundless Garden, the Passing

"Cities... Cities. Cities. Cities? The Bone God is making cities", Ymon pointed out. "Do we need cities?"

"Does it look like we do?" Thal said, gesturing towards the Boundless Garden around them, seeming more like a living – and deeply bizarre – thing than a city as the Yithal still hadn't grown tired of shaping the Passing with their thoughts (it'd probably take a decade or two for the novelty to wear off, Ymon-Thal suspected). Towers rising and falling, castles of a dozen different styles and a thousand different materials trying to outshine each other, the ground itself shifting like water.

"It looks really cool", Ymon said dreamily out the window, Grawissen's action forgotten. "Too bad that... Oh!" He jumped in excitement and spun around towards his other self. "We can preserve part of it in the mortal world, can't we?"

"You do realize that... oh, never mind." Thal shrugged.

As Ymon-Thal joined his power to Grawissen's, a moment of the ever changing Boundless Garden was frozen in time and exploded into the mortal world.

The results of applying the Garden's impossible architecture onto a world with unbending rules of nature went as well as could be expected. Many buildings immediately collapsed, not able to survive in a world with immutable gravity. Others were caught in the middle of forming or changing into something else, looking somewhat like half-melted candles. Though amongst the chaos and ruins some buildings maintained the strange majesty of the originals, even if most looked like the work of insane architects and drunk builders.

"Oooh... pretty!"

Spoiler: Help for Grawissen

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Ochtal (otherwise known as the Broken City or the City of Madness) was created by remaking a part of the Boundless Garden (+ 2 The Passing) — the "city" of the Yithal — in the real world. As the mirror of a city shaped by thought alone and unhindered by the normal laws of reality much of Ochtal became ruin moments after it's creation when the impossible buildings fell to gravity. Though what remains is rather magnificent, if quite twisted in both the literal and metaphorical sense of the word. There is no common design philosophy nor any practical planning to the city, even streets between the buildings is a rare sight.

As a side effect of the city's link to the Passing, any mortal who visits can have sudden flashes of memories of past lives (+ 2 Soul, + 2 Life). There is no way of controlling what you remember or when, so it is usually a rather discomforting experience.

Since the city is made from dead materials, Ymon-Thal's weakness (Unliving - 2) applies.

Total bonus: + 4

[Garjel_blah]

Chern, 24 AP, Kanto Desert

Omniscience among the gods was a strange thing. Chern sometimes thought that it was, in theory, possible for him to comprehend all of reality at once. His divine awareness could be infallible. But he, just like the others of the pantheon, was forever limited by what he wanted to see. When Chern had first set out from his hole in the Boa Jungle, his goal had been to see the world, but he already knew the world. Perhaps, then, what he had really been in search of was something to want. From there he'd found Mila, Misty, the choblins, Chad. Sometimes the god of decay had to wonder, why, of all the things he could have made of the world, of all those infinite divine possibilities, why those?

Chern didn't remember much since his botched creation of a demigod. The sun had died at some point, but that was about it. A god should be able to know those things, so he had to assume that he was simply refusing to know those things. Now, at the return of his awareness, Chern found himself standing in a fenced off paddock at the edge of a small village. Paddock was perhaps an exaggeration, it was more of a dust bowl. Beyond the fence lay the arid expanse of what Chern allowed himself to identify as Kanto, its vast plains dwarfing this little village and its fenced off little paddock. No one else was in sight.

As if reminded, Chern looked down. A stone protruded from the ground in front of him. Stones, Chern thought, were often old, older even than the gods, so it perplexed him that this particular stone gave him a sense of great age. He knelt, brushed away some of the dust. His thin hand revealed an inscription carved into the surface. Though it pained him, Chern allowed himself to comprehend its meaning.

Here lies Mila the Cripple, Path Missionary of Kahar-Djin

Chern lowered himself further, seating himself cross legged in the dirt. His bright yellow eyes gazed across at Mila's tombstone.

"Of course, I find myself here. A graveyard - no, a dead graveyard. I doubt the villagers even remember the ancestors that their other ancestors laid to rest here. I doubt they remember you, Mila. Ironic that the prophet of the No Name Oasis should be some unceremoniously interned. Though perhaps it is fitting."

Chern flicked a pebble dejectedly, and sat in silence for a few minutes. His eyes avoided the tombstone. Then he asked it a question.

"Why have I ended up here? Of all the places I could go, here, to you. Why you? So many of my decisions, they feel wrong to me now. I acted against the natural order of things because I thought it would help mortals, but it did not. I tried to assert the natural order of things because I thought it would help mortals, but it only caused pain. I feel... Unnatural, in everything I do. Except now. Visiting you, it calms me. You, my first friend, who traveled with me when I first walked as a mortal out of the jungle depths. What made things so right at that time?"

The grave was silent, as it should be.

"I suppose I'll never know. And maybe that's the point. In a world governed by the cycle of decay, where things so predictably run their course, perhaps the magic of not knowing is what makes things feel right."

A truly divine awareness should know all things. If it does not, it is reasonable to assume that it refuses to know them. Why does it refuse to know them? Chern thought once that it was to protect against harmful and unpleasant truths, but now he wasn't so sure. Perhaps the experience of not knowing brought him closer to the truth than not. Or at least, closer to a pleasant truth.

Chern stood, and placed a hand on the tombstone.

"I ramble on about what I don't know. But, there is something that I do know, with great clarity in this moment. I know that you were my friend. My best friend. And I miss you."

The god of decay departed from the old graveyard, to stand alone at the town's outskirts. A strong wind was picking up. Then, over the crest of a distant knoll, Chern noticed a man jogging towards him. He gave Chern the feel that he was about to give him another existential quandary. The god was soon proven correct.

"Stranger!" the harried man hailed Chern. "You best get inside, the wind's only gonna get stronger!"

"Is there a storm coming? I don't see many clouds." The dusky sky was indeed cloudless.

"A storm of sorts. The other stranger's starting his 'big project'."

"Other stranger?"

"Yeah, the windmill guy. Doing some sorcery or some such. Chad, wassit?"

Chern glared out into the Kanto desert.

"Chad... Hmmm..."

---

Chad, many days earlier, the Gnaw Greenland

"Many thanks for the windmill, friend Chad. This'll certainly bolster our grain yield this year."

Chad nodded in acknowledgment to the town elder.

"Honest work for honest pay."

"Indeed. And I must say, it was thrilling to watch you work! Such skill and precision have I never seen before in one who hasn't mastered magic. Though it had me wondering, why not?"

"Why not... What?"

"Why have one such as you, a demigod of industry, not sought to master sorcery or the paths? Surely your work could only benefit from such tools. The wind sorcerers of the Promised Lands, I'm sure they could teach you much about your trade."

"Possibly. But I swore at the moment of my creation to reject the gifts of the gods. My accomplishments will be mine alone, wrought by my own two hands." Chad's bronze hands clenched, the metal twisting.

"It's interesting," the elder mused, scratching his chin with his staff, "that you assume all magic to be a gift from the gods. Such is not the case at all. Some magic is cursed by the gods."

"Is that so?"

"Certainly. You surely heard what happened to the pyromancers of this land? Smote by Alatadriel they were! The practice of fire sorcery has long been antithetical to the gods."

"Then I shall learn it. Elder, please keep your coin. Instead, point me in the direction of someone who can teach me pyromancy..."

---

Chern, the present, Kanto Desert

It was an hour or so of walking before Chern saw it. Multiple towering spires arrayed along the flattest plane of the desert, wicked blades protruding radially from the peaks of each one. Nothing stood out from horizon to horizon besides these magnificent windmills.

"What is he doing?" Chern asked himself in a low hiss. Sure enough, he soon found Chad standing between himself and the windmill array, apparently unaware of the latest visitor as he focused his attention on the distant structures. The wind was so strong now that Chern had to shout to make himself heard, though he noted with interest that the windmills blades were barely moving despite so much force.

"CHAD!" Chern yelled. The bronze man turned to face his likeness.

"Chern." Chad greeted the god sternly. "I thought you were drowning your sorrows in a bar somewhere."

"Chad, what are you doing?"

"What I was always meant to do. Great works, that defy the gods."

"Is that all you do now? Search for things to defy?"

Chad scoffed.

"Even you can't be so reductive. This wind station will surpass everything I have created - no, everything anyone has created. With enough power, they have the facilities to themselves create their own wind stations, from excavation to refinement to construction. All they need is a little push, and the process will be unstoppable!"

"Chad... You're insane!"

"And you're weak, Chern. Look at you, you won't even try to stop me, will you? Even you can see the glory in my ambitions."

"I'll admit, I've made mistakes. The attitude in which I brought you to life, it was perverse and unnatural. But I see things clearer now, and I can tell you that what you have is not glory."

"What, then? Should I find myself a hole to crawl into? Should I be meek, and lowly? You've never wanted anyone to surpass your abysmal expectations of them. You're an oppressor of the mind and soul."

"I know I've demanded such things in the past, but I don't want that. I just want you, everyone, to be conscientious. To be as mortals are. Human, pygmy, neanderthal - whatever you are, I want you to be as you are! Just be, Chad!"

Chad gave Chern a long, hard stare, his dull metal eyes boring into the god's masked yellow ones. He sighed, and turned away.

"We might represent the same ideals, but we will never understand each other, you and I. Now I suggest you stand back. This is going to get... Hot."

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QzOTs5hXg0I

Chern watched helplessly as Chad adopted a stable, upright stance, holding his hands cupped out in front of him. The statue closed his eyes, breathed deeply, and summoned forth mana from within him. Just as he'd been taught back in the Gnaw Greenlands.

With a flash and a flicker, flames ignited in the bronze man's palm. For a moment they grew and grew, as if about to blaze out of control, but within seconds they whipped back down. The fire's heat and brightness, however, only continued to increase despite their confinement. The glow danced across Chad's bronze skin, rippling and highlighting his silhouette. Chern tried to take a step forward, but recoiled as sparks lashed out at him. He clutched at his mask with agitation.

"Chad... Chad! What are you doing Chad!"

Chad said nothing, but as if in answer the wind began to pick up. Powerful gusts blasted Chern from behind, rushing in to one focal point; the ball of fire clutched in Chad's white-hot palms.

"It's beginning..." Chad grunted, his exertion as obvious as his glee. "Time... To direct the blast."

With a shift in stance, Chad had his cupped palms positioned at his side, the fire within them aimed up at the colossal windmills in front of him. Suddenly, the flames were allowed to erupt outward. Roaring fire like a blast furnace sprung from Chad's hands, bringing with them an immense rush of air that seemed to draw itself from the entire desert plain. Chern was brought to his knees just to prevent himself from being swept away, as the gale tore at his ragged body.

"CHAAAAAAD!" he screamed, "CHAAAAAAAAAAD!"

"You can't stop it now, lowly god! I'm going to burn brighter than the very sun!"

With a mighty roar, the fire lancing from Chad's palms exploded into a whole new magnitude of intensity. The man himself was dwarfed by the size of the flames he created, lashing up at the windmill blades like sparing titans. Now the windmills were really beginning to turn, their massive blades making entire revolutions every second.

"More power! More! MORE!"

By now the fire itself was less a rolling blast of red, and more a thin beam of highly focused, blue-tinted gas. His entire bronze bulk was glowing by now, his clothes tattered cinders. And as the heat of Chad's fire grew, so too did the temperature of the sand around him. Chern felt it even at his distance, the grains and gravel blistering his skin as they whipped about him. In Chad's immediate vicinity, however, the sand became so hot that it was beginning to glow. Redness expanded around Chad's feet, until he was standing in a pool of semi molten glass. Red ooze bubbled and slid out from under him, and Chad almost stumbled. He might even have sunk, but as his pyromantic laser reached new dizzying heights of power, and the wind channeling through him picked up to a screeching gale, Chad's statuesque body itself became swept up in the sheer force. He began to levitate inch by inch above the ground, his fire piercing the air around him like a jet turbine.

Chern flinched as roiling molten glass splashed against his knees. He tried to move, but found himself immobilised between lashing wind and drowning glass. With a crushing effort, he raised a hand towards the floating, painfully luminescent form of Chad.

"WWWWHHHHYYYY CHAAAAD! WWWRRRHHHYYY! WRRRRRHYYYYY! REEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!"

The windmill blades were a blur of motion, with so much air being forced through them that the drafts could be felt far beyond the Kanto desert. Trees in the Boa Jungle rocked in the blast of hot wind, waves on the Lucent Reef were whipped up into massive crests. Chad's pyromancy grew so powerful that it tugged at the very atmosphere of the planet Oerth, sweeping entire weather systems along with it to fuel his wind station. And as all this air funneled into the crated of boiling glass beneath Chad's feet, Chern felt himself sink and spatter deeper and deeper into the red ooze. His divine essence drained from his struggling body, and swept out across the world on hot drafts of anguish.

Spoiler: Action!

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Influence the entire planet (22 AP/18 DC)

+2 Determination, to push Chad's greatest work into overdrive

+4 Decay, to add Chern's defeated essence to the action

-2 Downtrodden, I don't know exactly how the dynamics of this relationship are working but someone is definitely downtrodden in this scenario I feel

This action has several things going on in it. Basically, Chad is using a massive pyromancy ritual to push air through his windmill creating windmills, and in doing so he is affecting the entire planet. Here are the effects:

- gale force winds across the entire planet for one hour

- all of the windmills Chad has created go into temporary overdrive, and I suspect many lesser windmills will just straight up break down

- everyone in the Three Deserts sees the glow of Chad's pyromancy like a nuclear explosion on the horizon

- the immediate region of the Kanto desert next to Chad's wind station is turned into a permanent glass crater, and is given a permanent gale force wind system, as opposed to the rest of the planet that is given only temporary gale force wind

- and, as a side effect, the botflies in the Gnaw Greenland are blown away and rendered extinct. I'll leave it unclear as to whether Chern, Chad, or no one is directly responsible for this, but it helps tie up loose ends

An hour later, Chad's feet touched the ground once again with a crunch of breaking glass, his fire spent. All of his clothes were gone by now, his body still radiant with heat. His windmills continued to spin at break-neck speed, their internal mechanisms clattering away as they went about their automated tasks. Chad drew in a long, satisfied breath, and exhaled. Then he turned around, and walked slowly back to the spot where Chern had been.

The god of decay was still kneeling where Chad had seen him last, only just visible in the baked fumes and twilit molten embers. He seemed oddly still. Looked down at the god's form, waiting for the air to clear. With the strong winds, he didn't have to wait long.

Chad saw himself looking back at him.

"Oh my... Ah."

Chern's body knelt immobilised under a coating of thick, form-fitting glass. The ground had gotten so hot and turgid, it seemed, that Chern had become encased by its splashes. So smooth and clear was this glass, that looking into Chern's flat, masked face had resulted in Chad seeing his own mirrored reflection.

Chad stared a little longer at the glass statue, that was all that remained of Chern. Then he turned, and walked away.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=beaVdlcKMC8

Regardless of whether the action fails, the Glass Crater will still become a location on the map in the Kanto Desert, and Chern will remain there encased in glass. He may only be there until next age, or he may be there forever. Depends on whether I continue to play.

[Demonjazz]

OOC: Obviously these changes will take place between the end of this age, and the start of the next.

No one knows how or why the Goddess Alatadriel disappeared, or even when. Her disappearance so close to the end of an age, and after such a climactic revelation, it was not strange at all for the vulpine goddess to go missing in times of need, it was a matter of faith that she was off making new plans in these times. And yet when another age of gods came to an end, she had not been seen. Rosalin Ravenhold, beloved daughter, famed revolutionary, prestigious Knight Commander and who is believed to be the single greatest contributor to the Path of Power since that of Kahar-Djinn herself, was once asked of why the age had come to an end and yet her mother did nothing for the upcoming apocalypse. Of what was to be made of the final sighting of Alatadriel. She said little as was common of her throughout most of her public appearances, all she would say is that the last thing Alatadriel had told her was “A monster is humming a lullaby”.

Siegfried, stalwart companion of Rosalin, and bold pursuer of truth was asked as well of course. Whatever was said to Siegfried though had shaken him. He gave up his title as Master of the Southern Monastery very shortly after he had given it to himself, simply saying that “It is meaningless”. Siegfried can still be found near Rosalin and they still appear to be good friends, but he has become much dourer after these events, saying that his thesis on metaphysics is simply “There is no order to the universe, there never has been”.

Davy was reported to have heard what was said to Siegfried but has refused to repeat it. Saying that the last time he did, the person almost threw themselves off a cliffside. He has commented multiple times that he does not get it himself and that he thought it was obvious. When asked what he thought happened to the god, he said “She probably turned into a fox.” He then went on to create a wall mural of this event because in his own words “It sounded like a pretty good way to go.”

Now with the death of the goddess, the churches much like The Empire had fallen into disarray. The faith failing, they had splintered apart with nothing keeping them together. It had all started with the revolution of Rosalin’s helped by the Tongues and Terrors of Morganda in which she had stripped all law officials and nobles of their rank, including herself. Now to this day, The Free Syndicates of Al-Estria are run by a council of randomly selected citizens each year. The populace being able to vote out members of course through a popular vote. The society is based on a contract between the people and the community to serve dutifully under contract for the betterment of all in return for the services and goods that are readily available to all citizens for free.The contracts readily adopted by the predominantly Atlan society, particularly after the refugees from the Great Windmill Calamity came boat by boat, readily accepted by the kind Rosalin. Every single contract, slightly different in all their duties, but still with the original words of the very first contract written by Rosalin Ravenhold emblazoned at the top.
“I hereby accept to never see myself above any other mortal. Though we may fight, and bicker, I shall always do my best to accept every man, woman, child, and all that lie betwixt with love and trust. To help all in this community in times of feast, and in times of famine. To never in good faith leave another wanting as I lay content. If ever these sacred rights are to be infringed, I shall with all my might and wherewithal left in my body to take up arms against all abuses thrown our way.”
The magic of the gods fading from her body, it was the first year that Rosalin had been brought into the council of Al-Estria that she had died. 213 years since she had been revived, she had died of old age, peacefully in her bed. A great statue in the first Al-Estrian Settlement has carved in simple letters her last words. “There is work to be done today”. While her companion Siegfried had achieved immortality in his path, he disappeared shortly after her funeral. Never to be seen again. He chiseled upon the back of Rosalin’s grave “Briefly, there was order.”
Now with the death of their goddess those who have not accepted the foreign gods of Grawissen, Dulnori, or even Valrion have gone to instead worshipping Rosalin herself both as the divine figure she was and as the founder of the nation and pinnacle of all values that it holds. Rosalin herself would have never wanted this, but it is hard to stop the worship of the great hero.

The Simorians, already a rebellious and anarchistic lot, were the next to declare independence. A great warrior known as Tarkasha The Red had his mercenary troupe unpaid for months as they went to war against Al-Estrian Sympathizers in The Empire. Many Simorians facing the same economic disaster now that The Empire fell to hardship after hardship. The mighty warrior called forth the 25 houses of Simor something that had not been done for centuries. There was only one short, simple speech held that day that Tarkasha said to the other leaders “We have squandered our freedom. For an untold time, we have laid in the muck, divided, fighting for naught but our egos. We have always declared ourselves the freest of the khandoms, but this is not freedom. This is a prison of our own making. It is only united under one banner that we can break free of this. It has long been the tradition in Simor that the strongest may take what he desires. It is now that I prove that.” It was then that Tarkasha and his men descended upon the chiefs and their men. Tearing them apart with savage fury in what would later be called The Massacre of Kantorum Hill.
Newly United under one banner, Simor rod with savage fury against The Empire, taking by sword and trickery all that they saw fit. Descending into the Northern Reaches of the Orcs, The Western Expanse of Atlan, and fully they had taken all lands of the Shamats. If it were not for the united front in the West, made of Thorgan Druids, Yith Warriors, Choblin Aerial Units, and a united Beastfolk army, it is unknown how much more Simor would have taken. But with massive losses on their Western Front and growing discontent among their soldiers as they ran through brother and sister after a decade of war, Tarkasha had finally chartered peace to his border kingdoms. While the brutish man was often savage, and cruel in doling out punishments, one cannot argue that Tarkasha did not repair the war-torn lands into a land that shone with great economic and cultural prosperity. Only a year after this peace, he had declared these united kingdoms to be that of The Western Inadrite Empire, or as it’s people preferred it to be called, The Tarkashan Empire, or simply The True Empire. Still, despite his cruelty, Tarkasha still did truly believe in freedom. Under his rule, a bill of rights was to be chartered with the constitution to ensure that the rights of his people would never be trampled. His dynasty ruled the people for many generations, justly and fairly, but all dynasties must come to an end. Now The Tarkashan Empire is led by that of The Braxton Dynasty, but they too will someday fall. Now The Tarkashans despite being named after their original Imperator have an understanding of rule similar to the Mandate of Heaven from Ancient China.
Without the superstitions of the Sinalese, the Western Empire has mainly begun to worship Ymon-Thal, due to an already sizable following in Shamatthat was being suppressed by the previous Inadrite Empire.

Thorgan to this day remains relatively unchanged. More Beastfolk roam their forests, and many of the shrines dedicated to their goddess have been changed to resemble that of Avestra, and they no longer feel the yoke that was Imperial Taxes. However, the people live as they did under Imperial rule, which is to say the same as they have been for centuries. The Druidic Circles are not easy to disturb.

Though Al-Sinai still is the center of power for the Eastern Empire or The Empire of Inadriel as they still prefer to be called. They are a shadow of their former power. The Twin Furnaces were toppled by gale winds during The Great Windmill Calamity. Their center of industry destroyed and whispers of rebellion on the wind if it were not for the fact that they protected the many great windmills of Atlan, it would have surely crumbled long ago. Though it was not immediate, the ever-burning pyres of the twin furnaces being extinguished did indeed bring ill omen. The Orcs as they used to be no longer exist. While Tarkasha and his people never marched into Ahorca proper, they had destroyed the upper reaches of the valley, and with great siege weapons destroyed the mountainside and the houses that had been carved into it ages upon ages ago. With no bargaining power without the Twin Furnaces, many of their homes destroyed, and the ever-present rule of The Empire, The Orcs finally fell to modernity. Though some still teach the old ways, and practice the tattoos, with the rebuilding of their home so was their culture rebuilt into a Sinalese image. It was gradual at first, but by now, many identify as Sinalese before they do Orc. Their animalism could simply not prevail without being protected by the churches of Alatadriel. While Ahorca is still known for its vibrant outcast community, it is like The Empire itself now, a shadow of its old self.
With Al-Sinai weakened and the center of industry moved. There is now a precarious balance between the Robber Barons of Atlan and the Old Blood of Al-Sinai. Though the Old Blood weakens without the propping up that they got from The Church. With the influence of The First University and the following among the Sailors of Atlan, Petr is now the most common god to pray to. Though with Chad’s great act of sacrifice and his building of the windmills despite his preaching against the gods. The Cult of Chad has started to worm its way not only into the people but into the politics of the Eastern Empire. Now known as The Golden Man, Chad is often worshipped by the wealthy merchant families of Atlan who with their growing power have influenced Al-Sinai to loosen restrictions and taxes on the merchant families and instead let the fabled Free Marketplace that Chad wrote about so much. So may even say that the Cult of Chad worships The Free Marketplace far more than they did any of Chad’s actual preachings. Rosalin and Al-Estria have not been very big fans.


Now there only remains The Great Chains connected to the flying kingdoms, the vestiges of Beastfolk (Though they hardly still worship their old god), and that of Davy Civil Engineering Beedez as the only great testaments left to the vulpine goddess. Davy now still trundles across landscape to landscape, always building, always working, every once in awhile in what amounts to a melancholic mood to the automaton he may make another great piece of architecture inspired by his creator (Or occasionally his hatred of Chern), but those days become fewer and fewer as time passes. Davy has often been asked what he feels about the changing times and the great failings of his mother. He has always given the same answer “It makes no difference who built the mighty aqueducts. It is only my concern that they continue to deliver water to the people.”

[flyinglemur]

In accordance with the agreement Dulnori helps the Celestials.

Spoiler: Help Petr:

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+2 Fortune: Dulnori spreads his fortune telling talent. Much like Davanda, the games celestials play will foreshadow the future.
+2 Ambition: The celestials are charismatic and impressive, they are likely to become leaders and gain fame.
+1 Dream: The celestials are keyed in to the Petrian dream network, in much the same way as a Su-sorcerer.
+1 Sailing: A boat piloted by a celestial shall never go astray.

The city of Uyellic doesn’t fit easily into Horizon doctrine, forcing Ironhide and Dulnori into a problematic situation. Ultimately they feel that they can’t simply abandon it, so Dulnori blesses the city of Uyellic, and Ironhide sends her representatives to survey the city and establish control. These are soon followed by countless merchant ships, trade with the Prehist seems far more agreeable now that their government has stopped acting so Yirishly, and the taxes are under Dramos control. What exactly this will mean in the long run is unknown.

Spoiler: Help Graw:

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Government: Most Horizon towns and villages operate informally with local government based around the unwritten traditions of the inhabitants. Uyellic’s size naturally means it must go beyond this, and so it operates under a written charter. The city shall be divided into boroughs, which shall provide representatives based on population to a city council. Alongside this the city shall also have a viceroy, the Golden speaker, selected by the monarch with wide powers especially over diplomacy and military functioning. This office is incredibly important, since a golden speaker technically represents the two gods, and so is held only by the most important and trustworthy people. Generally this means a deep shaman, and often though not always, a mask bearer. This position is held for life barring the rare recall.

Minions: Dulnori creates a good supply of witchwood seeds and several dragon eggs to be sent to Uyellic. The Golden dragons do many of the same things they do in Axia, and in particular here act as government agents for the purposes of regulating trade and collecting taxes. Attempting to bribe them is always a poor idea.

Manacaps: These spores are imported, and over time massive amounts of mycelium will grow throughout the city. It’s considered a civic duty to pour any excess daily mana into the mana network, and foreign merchants and businesses may be subjected to a mana tax. The government keeps a good supply of dried and powered manacaps for use in emergencies or to subsidize certain magical business.

+2 Fortune: Mystic currency exchange, like in the Harken Steppe alchemic decanters can be sacrificed to the manacap and thus converted into mana, and furthermore those who practice paths that ban the use of sorcery will have their mana naturally drained into the manacap, thus expanding the cities mana supply and enabling them to produce greater goods and perform greater services.
+2 Ambition: Uyellic shall be a city of enterprise and invention. As a major center of trade it shall grow very wealthy, and that wealth will be funneled into new discoveries. CAT shall establish a branch office, and scientific discoveries shall be pursued out of religious zeal.
+1 Dream: Though the physical distance between Axia and Uyellic is large, the mental distance is shortened. The Miracle Games will be broadcast automatically without draconic intervention. Furthermore, with a simple ritual golden dragons in any Horizon territory can hold dream communication with golden dragons in Uyellic, and vice versa.
+1 Sailing: The port of Uyellic shall be large, safe, and efficient. Ships coming and going from it with peaceful purposes in mind will move with unnatural speed.

[Batcathat]

Ymon-Thal, the Boundless Garden, The Passing

"Oooh... so much going on. New little demigod, peculiar Petr people and I think Chern's hotter brother is trying to set the world on fire."

"Eh?"

Spoiler: Help for Avestra

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+ 1 Balance: Regardless of what shape he takes, Kismet will have perfect balance, moving with perfect grace and never stumbling or falling.
+ 2 Death: Kismet is given the ability to summon the dead and question them (no ordinary soul can resist neither summoning nor questioning, but they cannot be forced to do anything else), either to gather information or to bargain with them. His gift for finding a mortal's dreams and desires work on the dead as well as the living.

Spoiler: Help for Petr

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+ 2 Soul: The Celestials sense the souls of those around them, giving them a rough idea of a person's personality and state of mind. It is possible to fool their soul sense (keeping them from sensing anything at all or even giving a false impression) but that requires either exceptional discipline or very subtle Necromancy.

Spoiler: Help for Chern/Chad

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+ 2 The Eye of the Worlds: The ocean around the Eye is permanently plagued by occasional gale winds, frequently appearing seemingly out of nowhere.

[AlexanderML]

Valrion and Wickerd - Around Morganada:

Valrion and Wickered did not end their trip to Morgandana with their visit with the Grawissen and Violin. They traveled from Ostrum to the other great cities of the continent; both out of a sense of exploration and to ease the strife they saw in the land.

First they traveled to Uyellic where the pair did good works for the Uyellicians and spoke with those high and low, healing the sick and laying down works for the people of the city. It was the first time any giant had visited the city, and even Valrion’s average statue stood out for all to see. And while some held fear at the sight of the pair, with kindness and respect all but the most reserved welcomed their aid. Valrion saw the Uyellician’s like most people were good, even if their customs were strange to her (and especially Wickered, who without Valrion there to explain at times would have been insulted or flustered at the Uyellician’s behaviour).

Once the pair had gotten to learn the hearts of the city’s inhabitants, they decided to travel to the other major cities with the goal of easing the tensions between them. This pilgrimage took many weeks and more than one notable deed in each state to reverse the trend of distrust that was building, not with fear and sacred commands but with understanding and guidance. Once the trend of distrust or fear was starting to be reversed the pair went to the next city.

When they had seen the other cities of the continent, they returned to Uyellic once more, to say goodbye to the people of Morgandana before returning home.

Spoiler: Help Graw!

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+2 Guidance: Through good works and negotiation between Uyellic and it's neighbours, the misunderstandings and growing tensions are put aside. Future giants and their companions will be inspired to recreate the pilgrimage that Valrion and Wickered took when there are misunderstandings in the future.

+2 Sun: The fields of Uyellic are blessed under the light of the sun to be prosperous and safe, the greatest show of this being seen if invaders come, for the sun itself will protect the city with harsh sunlight that drains the aggressors water and greatly saps at their strength (of all sorts).

+1 Giant: Giant's will come to the city of Uyellic to trade for the foreign Morgandanaian goods in high numbers, eventually establishing themselves as a noticeable minority. Their great strength will aid the city in it’s projects and defense.

+1 Improvement: The works of Wickered and Valrion are noticeable all throughout the city, advancing the infrastructure of the city ahead by decades.

---

Davanda - The Gnawlands:

Davanda had stayed in the Gnawlands for a time, trying but failing to engage in theory-crafting with the magicians there but unable to really engage with them. She was distant, she knew it, and it bothered her how she could not stop thinking about Yir; how her feelings kept bubbling up to almost crying at random times of the day for seemingly no reason. It was not like she had anyone to talk to about this, or at least felt like she did not (even if Nerassus was willing to talk to her… she was afraid of taking his valuable time, or worse that he too felt that Yir’s death was justified).

Yet this visit to the intellectuals of the north was not without its fruits of labor. For in the laboratories of the high-magicians she worked the new magics (and subtly used some of her divine power) to push the bounds of a problem that had arisen in the use of magic for the public. For while the Dream Vaults served to give mana for the public, it lacked the ability to move beyond city boundaries and was highly inefficient. If asked she would say that the manashrooms were a large part of her inspiration.

At the culmination of her work, Davanda inside a lonely laboratory casted her high magics and nudged the laws of reality enough to change magicite into living magicite.

Spoiler: Action

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8-8 AP = 0AP left
DC 4
Create Basic Life-Form: Living Magicite


Living magicite is a form of micro-organism that inhabits places of high mana, absorbing the ambient power to survive and multiply off of it (though strong artificial conditions can make it grow as well with enchantment and warrior magic knowledge). Power which is not used by the living magicite to survive is instead passed along in a manner similar to electricity moving through metal.

While alive the living magicite is very flexible, oily would be an appropriate word to use for it’s texture and fluidity; however when it dies it crystalizes, and beyond laboratory conditions it is hard to find 100% living magicite (meaning that most encounters with a collection of it will find it at least partially crystalized). The crystallization process makes the living magicite expand and become less mana-conductive (as the ‘dead’ magicite parts are just a normal magicite and so non-mana-conductive).

Living magicite does not immediately die when deprived of the mana it holds, nor does it need to hold it's maximum capacity in mana to grow (though still need an abundance). Stores of living mana will slowly start to crystallize if seriously lacking in mana.

+2 Harmony: Davanda will give knowledge on how to create and use living magicite to the people of Axia and the Promised Land, though she herself cannot go to the west lands to give this creation to them (she instead asks Elmwood to do it for her), she feels like she still needs to repay them for their kindness nonetheless (despite how betrayed she feels).

+2 Sun: Living magicite can keep itself alive for a time with just water and sunlight, as the microbes produce a minute amount of mana to feed themselves unders such conditions.

+1 Giant +1 Improvement: Those giants among the Promised Land have and will in the future be able to guarantee more time from Davanda to explain the details of the use of living magicite. This knowledge gives them a notable edge in the application of living magicite in their technology and creations.

This action is open to: Su’ule (it’s being made in her lands), Dulnori (Ironhide is getting a sample of the stuff as thanks).

[gac3]

A new Hope had yet to be named. Masquerade spread out, trying to find someone worthy. Vreyalas' Hope used the power given by Valrion to go to the great flying continent and make his way to the Thrashana. There he found the people riddled with nightmares. Primarily of a bear consuming the sun while a shark kept in and out, covering itself with blood.

He worked his way through the people, reminding them of the teachings of their once great Lord. "Remember what it is he taught. Only by providing for eachother and working together can the world's first city become what it once was. These dreams are the curse of losing your way. Let us leave this land and together bring the world together the way Vreyalas once brought you."

Together he gathered all of the people of Thrashana and brought them together. He taught them an air magic ritual that would require every member of the community.

Only once the community had all recommitted to their faith in community did they begin to rise. First one building, then another, until the ground joined them. The entire city sailed off through the sky.

Spoiler: Action!

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Action:
12 AP/8DC
Influence a city of mortals:
Vreyalas' Hope teaches the ritual to the Thrashana to make a flying city. Not like the floating confident but with the air magic of the land, they can move the entire city through the sky.

+2 war: they city is leaving the ICA and reclaiming their prophesized identify
+2 drama
+2 cult: the leaders of the city shall take up the masks of Vreyalas
+2 asylum: the city will fly around offering aid and safety to everyone they can find

[Godzillarich]

Spoiler: Help Avestra

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Transform Kismet into a demigod
+2 knowledge: he will have an exciting appeared knowledge of all plant life and the best way to grow it
+2 mining and +2 architecture: No amount of architecture or soil can stop his growth and his plants., he will not destroy them but his plants will be able to grow in harmony with buildings. Keeping a perfect balance.
+1 singing: Kismet’s beautiful voice can be used to soothe most life from their anger and their pain.

Spoiler: Help Petr

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Create a Supernaturally Gifted Sentient Species.
+2 knowledge: Their intelligence will be great, giving the world many scholars, intellectuals and tacticians.
+2 architecture: They will have their own unique and vibrant architecture, the beauty of it will shine through the ages
+1 singing: their culture will have a fascination with music creating

Spoiler: Help Chad

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Influence the entire planet with Windmills
+2 knowledge: The people near the area were given knowledge about the impending experiment and were someone to evacuate and the rest of the world to be ready for the wind.
+2 architecture: the windmills will be able to stand the test of time, being as sturdy as any mountain.
+2 mining: The glass created from the windmill will be a valuable commodity to the people of the desert. Finally, a way to make Windows. Additionally, the glass has the power to control the winds allowing more windmills to be made
+2 heroism: déjà vu not wanting a species to go extinct will save the botflies, they will have a new purpose, of pollinating the flowers of the Tainted Lands, allowing fruit to become much more common there.
+1 singing: the windmills will sound beautiful as they spend

[Maryring]

Amidst a massive pile of papers, diagrams, drawings, calculations and ledgers, is Nerassus. Drowning himself in work to hide his rage and sadness both. Reinforced walls in the mountain pass, greater economic investment into training the university guard, a proposal for conscription of soldiers in return for education is lying on his table, rejected, reevaluated and reconstructed several times. Right now his eyes are scouring over plans for air superiority. With all the support offered by the path-walking choblins and the steppe raptors, the University already has a very strong air force. But if he could incorporate the new Celestials... if the blessing persists... Soon the sleep will begin. Mother is barely able to manifest herself these days. She's spending her remaining time and energy stabilizing the blessing, and teaching the new Celestials how to embrace and use their powers. Even so, who knows how dangerous the Tyrants will be. If he can only

"Grandpa?"

Nerassus perks up as the door to his office opens. His granddaughter steps in, proud and regal. Though still humanish in shape, her hair flow down her neck in smooth waves. A greyish colour speckled with pearlescent hues. Her left hand has a slightly blue hue, and it emanates a soothing chill, only noticeable on warm days. The newly reborn Celestial walks over to Nerassus, leaning forward to rest her hands on the desk. "I'm sorry dearheart. But."

"No." Thera stares firmly at him, knocking her fist gently into the wood to demand his attention. "You've been cooped up in your office for almost a month now. This is not healthy."

"Thera. I'm."

"A demigod. I know. But you're not a machine. Step out, take a breath."

"No. The harder I work now, the safer everyone will be. I'm not going to let people die just because I'm too lazy to work."

"And I'm not letting people die because you're too proud to see when you're working yourself to exhaustion. Exhaustion means sloppy work. You wanna do this? Then do it well. The gods are all fading away for now right? So join me. Take a step outside." Thera glances over the papers, frowning thoughtfully. "You've forgotten the cult in your plans. Thalia... the Hope may be dead... the cult isn't. We're not alone."

Nerassus's lips twist into a thin line. His brow furrows, and he slowly stands up to his full height, looming over Thera. Thera stares back defiantly, unshaken by her grandfather's great size. Finally he allows a deep breath to escape his lips. "You... may have a point. Some of the gods are doing things. I should... help them prepare as well at least. It's... more efficient in the long run. There is only so much I can do after all..."

He walks over to a nearby box and opens it. Within a dagger gleams. It's presence leaves Nerassus feeling nauseous. Grabbing a silk cloth, he wraps it around the blade and passes it to Thera. "Hrm?"

"Help me. You're trying to present yourself as the potential new Hope right?"

"How'd you know?"

Nerassus only stares at her in response. "Take this dagger. Wield it. I want to see you use it to help me as I help others."

Spoiler: Help: Avestra

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+2 Justice: Kismet is given the ability to sense those who commit serious crimes against nature, and a natural sense for a person's karma.
+2 Blood:Piggybacking on Nerassus's energies, Thera gives Kismet the ability to sense those whose souls belong to the coming three evil ones.

Spoiler: Help: Grawissen

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+2 Justice: Nerassus creates a momentary inspiration in the minds of those who live on the lands. It won't last long, but at least when the city is initially built, the people will build it with a sense of community and fairness, rather than what benefits them individually.
+2 Blood: Thera, as a counterpoint, inspires courage, valor, and maybe just a small bit of bloodthirst, instilling in the land a desire to seek out, fight and resist the Tyrant when he appears.

Spoiler: Hinder?: Chad

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+2 Justice: The winds that blow across the world are potentially very dangerous. Nerassus expends effort to diminish and divert the winds, keeping them from destroying towns of small, undeveloped tribes with under-developed architecture.

[flyinglemur]

Worldview clash:

Elmwood was not a very talkative person, his students always complained he never explained anything in full. He wondered why, as he was nearing the strange bridge that had appeared on the bottom part of the... side of the continent (he was unsettled being on the side), he of all people was chosen by Davanda to give this vial of magic-liquid to the monarch of the westerner's.

He strode forward, his amber-like skin barely reflecting any light as he neared the first part of the plant-bridge.

A few golden dragons approached Elmwood, official diplomatic dragons held in permanent posts now, surviving on living tower wood mostly. So far there had been little activity, but now a real visitor approached. A chance to try something new.

The oldest dragon declared in Sanctuarian, “You approach the border of the Horizon Tribe, state your name and business. If you come to preach just turn back now.”

Elmwood stopped looking stiff stating "I am Elmwood, and I've been given something to deliver to the western monarch by lady Davanda."

“A gift really?” The golden dragon said surprised, “I was told that Davanda hated Ironhide now. Maybe she’s finally come to her senses about Yir’s execution. My men will escort you to the palace, though it’ll be a long walk for you. I must also warn you, if you need sorcery to keep up your strength or health don’t enter. The Dragon’s grace prevents those powers in holy land.”

Elmwood nodded, not like he ever used sorcery in his life "Understood."

The trip was boring and uneventful, a slow march through slow countryside, with only the occasional stop to hunt buffalo, until they reached Rokanon. As the party arrived at the palace they saw Ironhide looking noticeably disheveled and fiddling with her hands, trying to force a candle flame to move. The books she’d acquired on pyromancy were written with an experienced magic user in mind, rather than a neophyte, making them difficult to interpret and forcing her to skip a few nights of sleep to practice. When she noticed her guest she hastily straightened herself out, and tried to say the newly invented official greeting for ICA diplomats, “Welcome noble sugradi, glory to the rising star… no wait shining star. That’s it. Glory to the shining star, and may demons never again rule in Axia.”

Ironhide looked strange to Elmwood, though in the back of his mind the mental image of Rachel appeared. He had his usual passive look as he said"Greetings. I am Elmwood. I am searching for the monarch of these lands. Are you them?"

“That I am, have you seen anyone else here with a crown?” She tapped the silver crown, passed down since Elkhoof’s time, “Please report them so I can confiscate it.”

Elmwood nodded, only realizing now that perhaps a crown is only worn by a monarch in these lands "If I see something of the sort in these lands I shall do as you say." he said with all seriousness. He then extended his hand, a small vial appearing out of his hand with a violet liquid inside. "Then I am to entrust this to you then. It is an experimental substance called living magicite. So long as ambient mana is nearby and it has space to grow, it shall. Mana can be transferred through it. If deprived of mana it shall die. When it dies it expands as it turns to magicite."

Ironhide’s eyes widened, she took the vial and looked at it for a moment, before chanting a prayer. In response a whirling tendril of sand appeared and wrapped around the vial, growing teeth and a weasel mouth and then swallowing it whole before disappearing.

“I apologize for rejecting this gift, but that sounds like a plague to me. It would just spread uncontrolled in our manacap, and then when all the mana was gone die and clog up the mycelium with crystal.”

Elmwood had his eyebrow (or at least the area of his face that should have them) raise just a bit at the sight. "I do not take offense with you not accepting it. ... " he paused "Davanda will understand as well I believe." he said without his normal monotone voice. He gives a quick nod "I have naught else to give, is there anything you require before I depart?"

“Why don’t you take a gift before you go, have you ever wanted more mana?”

"No." Elmwood stated flatly "I have not. By my blood I cannot use sorcery and it has never interested me enough to look for a way around it." he pauses for a moment thinking about what he missed "My thanks for the thought."

The truth became immediately obvious to Ironhide, there was only one way that was possible, and his name did sound strangely familiar. She said, “You can use sorcery Elmwood, now at least. I think you and I are the same. When you are struck by magic it doesn’t harm you nearly the same way it does anyone else, and when you are healed it doesn’t do nearly enough. Am I right?”

Elmwood squinted his eyes a bit at those words, a tiny part of him curious at the strange woman’s words. "I had always been resilient to sorcery as you describe, and I’ve learned how to become immune to its effects in totality." he has his head tilt a little up as his contemplates something "From most sorcerers at least. Why do you ask?"

Ironhide nodded her head, “By fate you’ve wandered into your homeland Elmwood. That resistance is shared by nearly every human in this kingdom, me included, and it comes from Nestellbam. It’s his blessing on us. Your ancestors must have come from here, I guarantee it. Dulnori and I have discovered how you can use sorcery, all you need is some spores and a few minutes for a small graft. There are no side-effects, and your resistance will be unchanged. What do you say to that, cousin?”

So that was it Elmwood thought. Elmwood's curiosity was at an end, his face returned to a neutral disposition, though his frame is carefully looked at would reveal an uncomfortable stance. "Thank you for the offer, but I doubt that would work, my body rejects all changes placed upon it unless my heart is in total agreement with the action. Not even my approval is enough to allow it, since any reservations in my heart will make the task impossible. I have such reservations despite my trust that you hold no ill-will your majesty. ..." he paused.

"Apologies?" he was unsure if this was something he should apologize for or not.

He really did not want to address the irrelevant topic of his ancestry, he believed that his thoughts on the matter would only upset this strange monarch.

Ironhide waved her hand, “Your black magic isn’t nearly as perfect as you believe it is, nothing is. Just carry my concerns to Davanda and Valrion, feel free to return when you’ve realized the true potential of your body. I’m going back to work.” Without another word Ironhide went back to her candle, feeling very sad Elmwood’s soul was lost to Yir. Or perpass, ironically, he thinks too much like Nestellbam.

Elmwood's mouth made a small frown as he said "My thanks for your time and your kind offer, your majesty Ironhide." before he was consumed in a pillar of light, wondering what this strange woman was thinking.

Spoiler: Help Davanda: from Valrion

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+2 Guidance: In response to these concerns, Valrion allows the growth of living magicite to be guided. Specific instructions written on it’s surrounding medium, such as how much mana to take and when to take mana, will be obeyed by the living magicite. The instructions must be carved into the medium when it’s created, which prevents them from being easily defaced or altered by saboteurs. Dirt or earth is too loose and shifty for this to work, it requires something like a wood or iron pipe. This guidance also creates a unique interaction with manacap. Living magicite is sealed off from absorbing or transferring mana from the internals of manacap mycelium. It can do so from the borders of the network, but only when guided to do so by these instructions.

Spoiler: Help Davanda: from Dulnori

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+2 Ambition: Normally shamanism would’ve no function on prokaryotes, but Dulnori cuts an exception into it. This project is ambitious after all, and by distributing mana new technologies like never before shall be created. Dulnori shall contribute to that ambition, by giving that deeper level of control over to mortals.

+2 Fortune: Similar to witchwood trees living magicite is proofed against accident, as is the architecture and infrastructure related to it. Even if your house burns down in karma induced flame, your living magicite pipe will be fine.

+1 Sailing: Living magicite does unusually well in boats, thus allowing samples to be transported across long distances with less mana needing to be spent.

+2 Harken Steppe: Living magicite in the Harken Steppe is especially proofed against disease.

[gac3]

The Celestials and Thalia:

Thalia was still hope. She had died but she retained her memories as the apparition she was. Until a new Hope was crowned she would be the only Hope. Then she would help guide them. Until then she had lost touch with Timorin, unable to find him since all that had happened with Yir. She felt a draw towards the First University, where she was pulled into the amazement that was the new Celestials. Her form began to glow and she felt that link with Timorin again as she cried out in relief. She had not lost it forever.

Spoiler: Help

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Help Celestial creation
+2 War: In the coming war between the gods and the Titans, the Celestials shall be a mighty power in defending the mortals/Innocents
+2 Drama: With a wave of Timorin's power, the Celestials gain supernatural abilities. Each one totally unique and random. Varying in power from super godly strength to being really good with languages. Think X-Men ((Podcast coming to wherever podcasts come soon)) in diversity and variation in power levels.

[flyinglemur]

One final reaction, before Dulnori sleeps in the tar.

Spoiler: Hinder Chad:

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-2 ambition: Dulnori protects the work and labor of the millers of the world. Efforts to save their windmills from the gale will be strengthened tremendously. Mortal strength may yet prevail against divine power.
-2 fortune: Dulnori grants miraculous luck to those caught in destruction, protecting them from the debris and shrapnel.

The first day of warmth - Three years after the third age’s end

A group was gathered in the Evergrown lands, some of the finest men in the Horizon Tribe. Elders and heirs of the old bands, the greatest of the deep and grand shamans, and the oldest and most powerful of the golden dragons, all took their seats in the benches. This meeting was weird, it had been called with little explanation, and this spot of land was nothing important. The seats had been hastily constructed, surrounding a small clearing made by royal agents. In the center, stood a tall wooden totem. No one knew exactly what to expect, only that it had to be something big.

Ironhide rode in on horseback, dismounting she immediately began her speech, “Humans and cousins, I have brought you here today to show you the fruits of CAT’s labor.” The audience murmured. Most thought that CAT’s work had been complete when Dulnori created manacap, and the elders braced themselves for something grotesque. Ironhide’s voice was clear and resulute, even with Dulnori’s sleep and Nestellbam’s death the confidence she had gained in the third age remained.

“Who here has heard of pyromancy?”

Suddenly the murmurs grew, and one deep shaman called out, “You mean the magic that just kills the caster.”

Ironhide pointed to the raptor, and replied, “Only if the wrong person uses it.”

The audience reaction was a mix of shock and surprise from the casters, and dumb confusion from most of the humans.

“Most of the time it’s too difficult to control, it’s very easy to burn yourself before you’re strong enough to make use of it. But Nestellbam was smart enough to put the solution in our souls. If there’s anything CAT showed, it’s the resilience of the Lios to magic.”

A grand shaman shouted, “What about the risk of spreading fire. Building’s aren’t resistant to magic.”

“But the Steppe is,” Ironhide yelled, “And Rokanon is. Nestellbam has both weakened these flames, and strengthened our stone buildings. Our city is the perfect place to master it, and humans are the perfect students.”

A family elder demanded, “Prove your ridiculous idea.”

Ironhide walked in front of the totem, and began to chant. Quietly at first, then a little louder, then louder, until the whole crowd could hear her.

“Glory to the Dragon.
Glory to the whirlwind.
Glory to us.”

Her prayer was answered, just as any mage’s is, and fire erupted outwards from her scarred hand. Once it hurt more, but now it was only a small sting. The fire spun and twirled around the totem until it reached the top and lit it ablaze.

“Nestellbam has empowered us humans with something truly special. This was the true purpose of our blessing. And it can be shared too. My cousins, thanks to your mana, no hatchling will ever die in the cold again. We shall ignite a revolution! The winter is ours, fire is ours, glory is ours!”

The audience gave a resounding cheer, and the Dragon’s name would be praised forever more. That winter day would from then on be called the day of warmth, or the day of the Dragon's hearth.

[Garjel_blah]

Chern

Spoiler: Help Petr!

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+4 Decay, to grant the celestials an ambient supernatural nullification effect. Magic granted to the world by the gods fails around them.

Chad

Spoiler: Help Grawissen!

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+2 Determination, to build the Chadarchy, a large offshore wind farm in the middle of the northern islands that doubles as a small metropolis. Chad envisions it as a land of absolute freedom, only recognising the rule of the free market.

This may even count as a hinder because they probably won't recognise the sovereignty of Morganada.

[The JoJo]

Avestra, Eaglebeak Rock, Kanto Desert

Avestra watched with eagle eyes from her mountain perch as gusts of wind spiralled out from the spot where Chern and Chad stood, tilting her head in interest. She had just enough strength left for one final assist. She decided to make it count.

Spoiler: Help!

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Assist Chad with:

+2 Nature: The short-lived devastation caused by gale force winds raging across the planet leads to the renewal of many stagnant ecosystems. Plant seeds blown to new locales will take root, while insects will quickly colonise barren lands, including those recently raised from the sea.

+2 Birds: Eaglebeak Rock and the birds which roost within it are left unscathed by the explosion and birds across Oerth will thrive in the aftermath of the destruction.

+1 Reproduction: The Kantonite dust thrown up into the atmosphere has a longer lasting effect, causing so-called "Chern's Disease" in mortal populations across the world. This will cause mild birth defects over the next few generations, the most common of which will be infertility. As a result, at the beginning of the next age, mortal populations will be substantially lower than they otherwise would have been.

[DarthArminius]

Spoiler: Action

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8-8 AP = 0AP left
DC 4
Create Basic Life-Form: Living Magicite


Living magicite is a form of micro-organism that inhabits places of high mana, absorbing the ambient power to survive and multiply off of it (though strong artificial conditions can make it grow as well with enchantment and warrior magic knowledge). Power which is not used by the living magicite to survive is instead passed along in a manner similar to electricity moving through metal.

While alive the living magicite is very flexible, oily would be an appropriate word to use for it’s texture and fluidity; however when it dies it crystalizes, and beyond laboratory conditions it is hard to find 100% living magicite (meaning that most encounters with a collection of it will find it at least partially crystalized). The crystallization process makes the living magicite expand and become less mana-conductive (as the ‘dead’ magicite parts are just a normal magicite and so non-mana-conductive).

Living magicite does not immediately die when deprived of the mana it holds, nor does it need to hold it's maximum capacity in mana to grow (though still need an abundance). Stores of living mana will slowly start to crystallize if seriously lacking in mana.

+2 Harmony: Davanda will give knowledge on how to create and use living magicite to the people of Axia and the Promised Land, though she herself cannot go to the west lands to give this creation to them (she instead asks Elmwood to do it for her), she feels like she still needs to repay them for their kindness nonetheless (despite how betrayed she feels).

+2 Sun: Living magicite can keep itself alive for a time with just water and sunlight, as the microbes produce a minute amount of mana to feed themselves unders such conditions.

+1 Giant +1 Improvement: Those giants among the Promised Land have and will in the future be able to guarantee more time from Davanda to explain the details of the use of living magicite. This knowledge gives them a notable edge in the application of living magicite in their technology and creations.

This action is open to: Su’ule (it’s being made in her lands), Dulnori (Ironhide is getting a sample of the stuff as thanks).

[/QUOTE]


Help Davanda!

+ 2 Sorcery: Those who involve their magics with the use of living magicite get to somehow reduce the amount of living magicite used.

[Godzillarich]

Ymon-Thal 12( AP)

(1d20+8)[20]

Petr 20( AP)

(1d20+38)[44]

Su'ule 10( AP)

(1d20+5)[6]

Avestra 25( AP)

(1d20+23)[25]

Grawissen 18( AP)

(1d20+33)[37]

Valrion 10( AP)

(1d20+15)[31]

Chern 24( AP)

(1d20+14)[32]

[b]Timorin 24( AP)[b]

(1d20+8)[26]

Dulnori 14( AP)

(1d20+12)[31]

[Godzillarich]

Ymon-Thal 2( AP): (success) Junction of Life and Death has been made

Petr 0( AP): (success) Celestials are born from Petr power

Su'ule 4( AP):(success) Tongues of the frost north have a new sweet cave

Avestra 7( AP): (success) Kismet takes root in this world

Grawissen 0( AP): (success)the Country of Morganada builds up it’s cities to help bring a new golden age

Valrion 2( AP): (success) Living Magicite has been made

Chern 2( AP): (success) what...ever the hell Chad was doing it worked.

Timorin 12( AP): (success) Thrashana is ready to take off

Dulnori 2( AP) : (success) Witchwood starts to grow around the world

[Godzillarich]

500 years later
Age 4: TYRANT'S AGE
Tyrants Conquests- Stricken land conquest

A mysterious and godly figure appeared on the Stricken land, all we do know about his origin is he had an ancient bloody dagger. He started amassing an army from the people he overpowered and set about forging his own empire, The Tyrant Empire.

Some Basics About The Tyrant Empire

1. There is only one God in the Empire and its Tyrant. God worship of anyone else is punishable by extremely painful death.
2. All that was created by the false idols would be destroyed, this includes magic, the paths, any animal or plant life and even people like the Terrors, Tongues, Changelings, Giants, Beastfolk and Yithal would be exterminated
3. To replace the use of magic they have a new system called Blood Energy. It is more powerful in terms of firepower with the drawback of its feeding upon the living blood and soul. Some extremely powerful spells completely consumed the soul turning it into nothing. Much of those plans to be exterminated are used as power sources along with anyone else who speaks out.

The loss of Hope- War of the Maddening Marsh

The first victim was the Cult of Stricken land. They put up a pretty good fight against Tyrant. They had much on their side like the home-field advantage, the masks, more loyal soldiers than the ones who worked for Tyrant and plenty of support from around the world but despite all that Tyrant continued to make advancements. but hope was not lost until...the hope of Cult betrayed them allowing Tyrants forces to sneak up on the Cults forces. Morale was broken and soon the cult was completely conquered on the Stricken land. However, their land may be taken but many refused to give up their worship. They pray in secret for the day the God of war will help them in their time of need.

Luckily The Eye of the Worlds was protected by the enchantments made to it. Tyrant decided to focus on that area after he was done with most of the rest of the world anyway so he let it be for now.

The burning of Fox- The fall of Tria

The Empire by this time was split off into a bunch of different countries. Western Empire of Holy Flame, Eastern Empire of Inadriel, Independent Land of Thorgan, and The Free States of Al-Estria. When the Tyrant Empire came upon its shores it was far more powerful than when it fought the Cult. They cleaved through much of Thorgan followed by Western and then Eastern empires. The only part of the old Empire that was not conquered by Tyrant was on the continent Axia, Al-Estria.

After conquering Ala’s people they then moved west and attacked the Cloblins. This saw the true extent of the horrors committed by the Tyrant Empire. There was no surrender, there was only slaughter, they were children of the false gods and for that, they must pay. Many of the Cloblins were evacuated with the help of the Starfolks but Starfolks knew they would soon be conquered and in turn had to get their Tongue, Terror, Beastfolk, and Yithal population out. Luckily unlike most, they knew that they were going to fail in stopping Tyrant so they started the transfer of the God-created races to Axia much earlier than most. After the transfer was complete they immediately surrendered. By the end, the entirety of Tria belonged to Tyrant, except for three places. The Lucent reef thanks to its magical protections, same with The University and the South.


The war of the birds

The Tyrant Empire had one last place to conqueror on Tria and then it would move on to Axia. The south where the primitive Crow and Owl people lived, the area the Tyrant Empire called The Bloodied Talons. Considering everything else was a cakewalk they assume this would be the same. They were wrong. The followers of Avestra managed to push back Tyrant’s armies again and again. Their guerrilla warfare was something that the Tyrant Empire was not used to, they thought beating the enemy out of an area was enough but the bird groups just came back and retook the area after killing the soldiers in their sleep. And they also had help from various other forces from the people they previously conquered refugees and many from around the world helped supply the Crow and Owl people with various tools for combat. Losing 20 soldiers to kill one bird person was common. The Tyrant Empire needed a way to break them.

The Tainted lands and an unexpected hero

Tyrant realized the main supplier for the birds were those of the Tainted Lands. So he decided to conquer them next to hopefully break the will of the birds and their supplies chain. It is true that both the Cult and the Prehist were no match for Tyrant and would have easily been conquered if it wasn’t for one hero.

Leviathan, for some unknown reason, has taken to defending the Tainted Lands against Tyrants Empire, sinking many of their ships before many of them could reach the Tainted lands. It especially helps that most of the stuff that should work on Leviathan is not used by the Tyrant Empire. He also defends the supply chain between the tainted lands and the birds of the South and makes the sailors of the tyrant empire life a living hell. Despite this, however, some ships have gotten through and taken the upper half of Tainted Lands although with a severely limited supply chain for them. Like with the bird people the war is still ongoing in the Tainted Lands.

Axia state of affairs

Many know it’s the next continent to be attacked after the Birds and the Tainted Lands are dealt with. Additionally, there’s been a huge refugee crisis going on all throughout the various countries of the continent. Time will tell when Tyrant strikes but if he does they’ll be nowhere else to run to.

Sanctuary doing its best

Sanctuary has been mostly safe from Tyrants wrath however there’s been a growing amount of fear that they would be attacked next. Time will tell if that is the case.

the Council

Luckily there’s a good amount of space between the Council and the tyrant Empire. Tyrant wants to get rid of the major threats before securing the top northern area that’s mostly filled with just a bunch of ineffectual tribes. The Council has been weighing their options against tyrant however
___

Spoiler: new areas

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Vesuvius



A land purposely made by Tyrant to be absolute hell to live. Seen as a punishment to those races created or altered by the gods. Many being prisoners brought for slave labor. The ruling class of this desolate land, there is such a high mortality rate they have to constantly keep getting more slaves to refill the ranks. The non-corrupted AKA the three human races Tallheads, Neanderthals, and Flores, rule over the slave population even though they’re extremely outnumbered by the said slaves.

Ebonbark Bay



Once lush and vibrant, the Tyrant Empire has stripped much of its resources away, in spiteful defiance of Alatadriel. The people of this land are divided, some have freely allied themselves with the Empire and others still resist. The land is home to mainly the Tallhead groups like The Sinalese , The Orcs, Atlans, Simorians, The Shamats and The Thorgan. The land was home to many beastfolk and Terrors (residing in The Simorians) lived there but many had to flee or were terminated. However, some of these magical races formed a resistance movement against tyrants Empire

Kalani starts here

Helvang



The landmass of the Tainted Lands, the society of Metron has been mostly isolated from the rest of the world. The southern landmass of Morganada and the cult have tried to colonize it but because of the uplifted clips with very few beaches has made it almost impossible, the land is made up of two environments, grassy flatlands of the north and woodland areas of the South. The three cultures of the Flores, tongues and terrors on the island have never really gotten along with each other. Recently however some small force of the tyrant Empire have successfully landed and set up a small base on the south to better attack the people of the southern continent of the tainted lands. They have not really expanded inland yet though but there is great fear among the natives that they will.
Xeema starts here

Endless Forest


A land tyrant described as “useless” between the Council and Stricken Lands. The land has been legendary for its unbearably cold weather, poor sunlight and being seen as the place of no return and endless terrain. Many see it as unlivable but a group lives in it, The tongues and terrors. Long ago they fled tyrant's wrath by going north, many of them died but Some manage to survive in harsh environments, however tyrant's Empire has decided with most of its other invasion forces stalling to see if they can finally tame the cold North to get to the Council
Fenrūn starts here

Frostreach



A place that would seem like a barren, frozen wasteland from the outside, with massive ice walls surrounding but behind those ice walls is a thriving community, with Neanderthals, tongues, terrors and the vacationing Yithal cut off from the rest of the world. The community is kept alive with the Hot Springs of the area which is the main source of warmth for the residents, between these Hot Springs are tall mountains and thick trees. However it seems like paradise has been found by Tyrant’s Empire, determined to attack the Crows south by going through Frostreach
Melwas starts here
Xaolai, Latei, Val-tae, Qing, and La-ning



A diverse set of five jungle-like islands off the coast of Axia. These places were no nation rule, only pirate gangs of Tongues, Terror, Orcafolk, Yithal,Celestials, Tallheads and Neanderthals. Warfare is quite common with many sides battling for supremacy and backstabbing their own partners for power. Recently the tyrant Empire has tried to employ some Neanderthal pirates to raid fellow enemies, work for them and have been working on trying to see if they can be the one to finally conquer the islands.
Xinnies starts here

And last is the land of Al-Estria which has mostly been unchanged since the last sight of the gods.

Ka'al Russ starts here

Spoiler: Map

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Spoiler: borders

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Tyrant’s Throne Room

A Sinalese general walked through the halls, his outfit consisting of red ropes with a long black beard and equally long ponytail. The man opened the doors to the Almighty and feared Tyrant. The messenger of the Titans sat there his eyes red as blood, with long blonde hair and wearing a massive red suit of armor, the figure was about 11 feet tall. The abomination of a man looked down upon his general. “Have you brought the head of that mortal yet Slither?”

Slither tried his best to keep his composure but noticeably sweat started to drip down his face. “... No sir… The assassination attempt failed.”

The Tyrant stood in silence, then the room began to shake. Tyrant got up and…”NOOOOOO! IT’S NOT FAIR BUAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!” tyrant cried like a petulant child as he slammed his feet into the ground, throwing a tantrum like a little child. “THAT BEAK BITCH CAN’T KEEP SAYING MY **** IS TINY! I DESERVE RESPECT AS A TITAN!”

Slither looked on in annoyance, not wanting to go through this **** again. “...um sir calm down, it’s not too bad.”

Tyrant glared at Slither “But the bitch Violin keeps writing plays about how small my **** is, she’s up to seven and five of those won awards, including in my own territory.”

Slither came to his master’s side and started patting him on the back. “It’s okay, no matter what the mean dinosaur says we are still winning the war.”

Tyrants looked up at his general set puppy dog eyes. ”...That’s true.” Tyrants said softly as he picked himself back up.

“Besides I have some good news too.” Slither said smugly.

Tyrant's eyes lit up like a child in a candy shop. ”do you mean?”

“Yes!” Slither said smugly as right on cue to topline guards dragged in a metal body in front of the mad King. “We have finally gotten Davy for you.”

Tyrant started jumping up and down with excitement. “”YES! Finally, a cool robot to make other robots with!”

Davy looked up at Tyrant. “I’m sorry sir but the proper term is Automat…” just then Tyrant stabbed his spear directly into Davy.

”I get to call my toys whenever I want.”

16 AP/12 DC: Create a sentient species. The Deaths-O-Bot

Spoiler

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+300 Power:
Machines of glorious destruction created from Davy magic and tyrants power. These 7 foot tall machines will be built for the express purpose of war against Tyrant’s enemies. They come in many shapes and sizes and can be often built with a magical cores and the right technical know-how, however Tyrant is the only one who knows the secret in building them.

-2 Hope: However unknown to Tyrant something is billowing in them, possibly a conscious…

Spoiler: How Tyrant works and how you fight him

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Every turn Tyrant is left alive he will do an action he will start out with a +300 power, fortunately he cannot counter your actions unless you use your action directly on him. ( for example,doing the killed demigod action.)

To beat him you must weaken his influence, show the people that there is hope to stop him, and get people to believe in the gods again (hence his weakness -2 hope). The more you do this the more his power will go down until it’s possible to do the destroy demigod action.

[Red Lenses]

Frostreach - Feylthal
The Valley of the Black Pools

Quite Some Time Ago

A rift splits the ground. This even comes with no violent earthquake, no calamitous avalanche tumbles from the mountain above. There is only the soft rumbling of moving stone, the gentle churning of the earth. It is a gentle and deliberate motion - like opening the door for a long awaited guest.

From this rift, a blood black substance bubbled up from within, stopping only a short distance from overflowing. Tar. Or something like it. It took only a few minutes, then all was quiet once again. The first Black Pool is still, featureless, and utterly inscrutable.

There were no intelligent creatures nearby to observe this phenomenon, but even base animals could detect an unsettling change. They left the valley in droves. The loose forest of hardy trees shed their leaves and pine needles, but they never withered, and what fell off of them never decomposed. The smaller frozen lakes that dot the valley are gradually subsumed by the same black substance.
Snow stops falling in the valley, but the sheets that had already fallen never thin nor fade. The wind does not blow here again.

Melwas, still barely conscious in the pit of the earth, would eventually wake to his own beautiful handiwork.

Frostreach - Feylthal
The Valley of the Black Pools

More Recently but Still Quite a Long Time Ago

The Valley remained quiet for some time, the tar pools remained still. But eventually they bubbled, an event closely linked to the awakening of Melwas. What good was this perfect stasis with no one to witness it? What good would his valley be if there was no one to protect it?

Large growths emerged on the surface of the black pools, bubbles that grew slowly in size until finally bursting. Clouds of black smoke billowed out, coalescing in the air and taking on humanoid shapes. A new form of life.

These creatures were spectral in nature, resembling clouds of smoke given vague form. Their only immediately recognizable facial feature was a pair of burning white eyes. Four clawed and dexterous arms extended from their torso, and their bodies ended in wispy tails. These creatures would eventually come to be referred to as Dregs, but in empty Feylthal, they had no name. Their only concern was the maintenance of their home.

They dispersed throughout the Valley of the Black Pools, floating always just above the ground. Listless and furtive, they whiled away their days frightening off the random beasts or explorers who drew too close to the Valley's entrances.

A simple existence, but one that would be upended when the first bands of migrating tallheads entered Feylthal.

Spoiler: Action!

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Melwas: 25/25 AP
0 AP/8 DC: Create a collection of lesser magical minions

+2 Stasis: Dregs are formless and unchanging, the custodians of a small valley of a similar nature.
+2 Unliving: Dregs do not possess the same material needs as other mortals.
+2 Sanctified area

[HalfTangible]

[Kalani]
The Tyrant's Empire - Ebonbark Bay - City of Kalth

Within Ebonbark Bay, there is tale of a man and a woman whose love for each other outshined the stars.

So the legend goes, there was a man within the cith of Kalth named Serin, who had had a string of bad luck with women. It wasn't that he was cruel, picky or a bad lover or anything; if anything he worshipped at their feet like goddesses. Yet no matter what, every woman he dated would eventually lose interest in him. He eventually just gave up, resigning himself to be alone forever.

One day he ran into a beggar on the road of his city, hardly an uncommon sight but this one was particularly nasty. She was a grimy, dirty, impoverished thing with not even a coin to her name, teeth missing, hideous and dirty. Serin gave her some coinage and nearly walked past her without a word, but for the briefest moment he spotted something beneath her hood: a lock of hair, as golden as the noonday sun.

Though the man only saw it for the briefest instant, that lock of golden hair gave him pause. He offered to bring the woman home with him, to help her. She took him up on that offer, giving her name as Kalani.

He asked her about what had brought her to his city, and she told a tale of her home village; there she had been so radiant and beautiful that she'd been worshipped as a goddess. Such a life wasn't terrible, but it was incredibly lonely. She sought only to connect with someone, and so had left home and dirtied herself up a bit. Unfortunately she had no real knowledge of how to spend money (living a pampered life will do that to you), so she was now genuinely impoverished and poor. She lamented her situation a bit, musing that if the boys back home had just tried to connect with her, she'd have stayed.

Serin felt immensely uncomfortable with this tale for some reason and offered her a roof over her head, at least until she got back on her feet. She agreed, absentmindedly brushing a bit of mud off of her face, revealing radiant eyes.

With every passing day, his love for her grew, and he saw neither dirt nor grime nor poverty; she was as radiant as any woman he had ever seen. In turn, she would clean herself a little more, slowly but surely revealing the radiant beauty she'd once been. Though many men tried to charm her, her heart belonged to her husband. Though she had washed away the grime and the trappings of poverty revealing the impossible beauty she radiated, he neither noticed nor cared. She became his wife, and he loved her dearly for all their days together.

Well, that's the short version at any rate; the real tale is told in song and is much longer. Whether it is true or to what degree is unknown, but the Tyrant allowed it to persist. After all, though the tale was clearly mythical and fantastical, Kalani and Serin were mere mortals. No one worshipped them, and with holdout cults to the gods of this world there were bigger threats to crush.

That was a mistake.

For though Kalani and Serin were a simple story of romance, that story held power. In the iron grip of an evil tyrant, mortals cling to what comfort they can. They try to believe in a better tomorrow, and the simple power of love. They spread it, and told it across all the land. In each telling, Kalani and her husband change in small ways. Here her hair is golden; there it is a fiery red. Sometimes they have a daughter, as wilfull as her father and beautiful as her mother. In one tale, Kalani is a thief, come to steal Serin's fortune, but falls in love with him and leaves her life of crime behind.

Whatever the truth may once have been, it mattered not. The story spread and spread until Kalani was the patron goddess of the city in all but name. Many cried for their lost loves, others for salvation or a helping hand in these dire times. Lonely women begged to be noticed, lonely men cried for someone who cared.

And Kalani came to answer their prayers.

Spoiler

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Sanctified Area: City of Kalth
The city that Kalani's tale supposedly took place in, an island of roses and romance within the otherwise dark and bleak Ebonbark Bay.

Pregame Action: Influence City of Kalth 0AP/DC 8

Love 2, Beauty 1, Adaptation 1, Trickery 2, Sanctified Area 2, Lonely -2 (+6 total)

Spread the romance story of Serin and Kalani throughout the city of Kalth, within the tyrant's empire. (+2 Love) The tales of Kalani's beauty (+1 Beauty) and her relationship with Serin are legendary. The story adapts and changes to fit the people and culture it is told to (+1 Adaptation), but it mainly persists among the Sinalese within the city. The role of magic and divinity within the story is intentionally downplayed as much as possible to avoid the Tyrant's wrath (+2 Trickery).

It is a story of love and companionship, meant to bring people together in this trying time; However, Kalani is not working with anyone else on this, so the -2 Lonely penalty applies. (Look this isn't going to fail unless it's a nat 1 and if it does I am okay with that, the dice have spoken)

Spoiler: Hinder/Help Tyrant

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Grant the Deaths-O-Bots a soul and a conscience. They love life (Love +2) and appreciate beautiful things (+1 Beauty), seeking out life to protect as much as destroy (+1 Allure). The bots are also made clever and tricksy, rather than just a set of dumb mass murdering brutes, (+2 trickery) partly to help improve their out-of-combat effectiveness (and thus lessen collateral damage) but also to make the changes given to them seem palatable. Which might come back to bite Kalani in the ass, but she is a goddess of love, not selfish decision making.

Lonely penalty does not apply as she is working on something with somebody... even if they aren't aware of it right now

[Xenopax]

The Awakening

Ka’al Russ awoke. It wasn’t dramatic, just one second after the previous he knew what he was. Of course, His reincarnated bodies dog rapidly turning into something with more eyes than teeth (and wings of course) was probably dramatic enough. Out of some fondness for his “parents”, Ka’al Russ walked off without greeting them, the Dog following him into the forest. There were yet jests to be made and hypocrites to be unveiled. First, was to see what his Herald had been up to...and maybe give him this dog.

As he walked, plants and animals changed. One squirrel devolved into a monstrous thing of flesh and acid, while another turned avian. All were improvements (in his fractured mind anyway) to their specific niche, and while an outsider may have trouble surviving in the mini-ecosystem he made, the creatures he made clearly didn’t, indeed they were thriving. That reminded him of something...the thought of his herald suddenly left his mind and he knew where he wanted to go and what he wanted to do. Ka’al Russ would disappear into a beam of light, the dog coming with him.

The Herald
[Near Al-Estria]

The Herald walked. As usual, his Acolytes, the Nameless, had weakened up the town in front of his path, getting those who were worthy of Ka’al Russ’s touch ready for it. It had been a slaughter, with the cultists gaining power as the Herald got closer and closer, and even though he had yet to step through the town gates, he could see the effect of his presence. The town guards were either tied up right outside town or had fallen to the Nameless’s words. Those who were worshippers of Ka’al Russ now showed plenty of things to differentiate them from those who weren’t. The physical mutations were the most obvious, from sets of sharp teeth all the way to wings made of other peoples spines. But there were others, from those who weren’t strong enough to control themselves. Their heads twitched, veins pulsed and they breathed heavily. The Herald had been around long enough to know that they wouldn’t last long in the endless march of the Flesh-God. They’d keep their names, and as such, wouldn’t join the ranks of the Nameless.

Eventually he would cross the final threshold, and all hell would break loose. The Gift of Ka’al Russ would spread among those inside, mutating them to be more useful. The stone and wood houses would shift into beautiful but terrible shapes, perfect in any case for their former owner. Those who were worthy and unworthy alike were enlightened with the Truth of Nothing, and the ensuing madness was enough to satisfy the Herald.

The most important part of what he was doing here hadn’t happened yet. Those who’d been enlightened willingly lined up in the center and the Herald began picking people out of them. Those who were taken were to become Nameless, while those who hadn’t were to go and spread the word of Ka’al Russ. Their tics would calm down as they got further from the Herald, making them Sane and rational individuals...more or less. However, oddly enough, every third person he named as Nameless would vanish! This was new, but he just kept going down the line, letting them disappear.

Once this was done, the new Nameless would raid the town for food and supplies before the march began again. As it had been since the Herald had been created, and as it would be until Ka’al Russ himself allowed his Servant to die.

The Proclamation
[Yimor]

Ka’al Russ didn’t know if this city had a God backing it, but he knew he wanted it. As such, he’d appear in his full godly might above the city of Yimor and began speaking, despite the loud commanding voice of a god not really being how he preferred to get things down.

“Children of the Sky. I am Ka’al Russ.I have come from the heavens to give you my commandments. Follow them, and be powerful. Disobey and become downtrodden,”

Words flashed through the minds of each living being, searing his words into their very soul.

“He who takes my Name as Holy, is blessed with power”
“He who forsakes his own Name is blessed with more”
“The old and the dying shall be put on an altar with the Criminal and sent to me, so they may live in glory”
“Learn and put what you learn to use, for that is Holy,”
“Test the Boundaries of those who rule over you always,”

After speaking his 5 proclamations, changes would go through the city. Those who raised worship to Ka’al Russ found themselves blessed with Knowledge and Power, just like he’d promised. He sent a portion of his Heralds Children to guide those who were worthy to become nameless like themselves. For a day and a night there was Chaos, and Ka’al Russ proclaimed it Good.

Spoiler: Actions

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Influence City as my free action.
Those who worship Ka’al Russ in the city gain control over their mutations (+1 Mutation), and the ability to mould flesh (+2 Flesh). The whole city has been changed, and can be altered by those who forsake their names and take up titles (+3 change from his domain and the Demi-God). Alongside this, those who pursue science are given insights on how to better their projects. Labs are created in order to advance their knowledge further (+2 Science). Finally, those who refuse to obey his tenets (Non-worshippers are fine as long as they follow the tenants) are infected with a madness that makes them antisocial and hate their skin (+1 Insanity). This doesn’t take effect if they’re following the 5th tenant on Ka’al Russ himself.

In addition, the city begins building temples to sacrifice criminals, the dying and the Elderly who believe to Ka'al Russ.

Spoiler: Help/Hinder Tyrant

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+2 Flesh: They wish to replace their metal with skin so they can become "real". This is usually done through them trying to find ways to escape their metal form into a meat puppet.
+1 Insanity: Those who last about 5 years or longer begin developing tics. These can go from harmless like jittering, to ripping the skin off those they kill and trying to become real that way. Beyond 10 years, and most stop following orders, as they pursue their want of becoming real to wherever it ends.

[Batcathat]

Thal-Verys and Ymon-Desha, The Passing

The world changed around her as Ymon-Desha stepped through one of the invisible portals into the Passing. The place that they had chosen was rather unremarkable – if the words "unremarkable" or "place" could ever apply to the Passing. No mortal souls were near enough to have their desires reflected in the landscape and it had defaulted to a meadow, seemingly in a much colder climate than the jungle Ymon-Desha had just left behind.

"Greetings, Ymon-Desha", Thal-Verys said from her place on a rock in the middle of the meadow, her shackled sun as always over her shoulder.

"Thal-Verys." It was the first time they had met in nearly a year. Although the Passing seemed safe from the intruders – for the moment, at least – it was an unnecessary risk, at least for Ymon-Desha who had to remain hidden among the Yith in the occupied Boa Jungle. "Anything happened here?"

Thal-Verys shook her head. "The land before life is as unchangingly changing as always. The Yithal are... themselves." When the Tyrant invaded and the world burned little had actually changed for the Yithal. Most already spent almost all their time in the Passing and the few that didn't could easily go there – quite sure that the enemy could not follow and even more certain that they could defeat any who did. "What of the Yith?"

"They survive." As the intruders had conquered the jungle, Yith culture looked as if it had been close to wiped out. Gone where the ever-present souls of the dead, who previously had almost outnumbered the living in the streets and houses. All groups that made up the power structure of the Yith – the Twin God's Own, the Disciples of Ymon or Thal and the Verysian Order – were said to have disbanded and necromancy seemed to go from omnipresent to almost unheard-of overnight.

None of that was true, of course. Almost every Yith used the Junctions invented by Palan An, the needles themselves either camouflaged as jewelry or hidden beneath hair or clothing. The dead were more present among the living than ever before, hiding in the Junctions when not bringing skills and knowledge between groups of their mortal kin. By walking through the Passing a soul could bring a message from one end of the Boa Jungle to the next within minutes and despite seemingly crushed into scattered villages the Yith were more organized than ever – led by the Council and guided by the Spear and Shield of the Living.

"They have the skill to fight – and the will – but not the weapons", Ymon-Desha said. "If they tried now – alone – they would be slaughtered."

"What about the other mortals?"

Ymon-Desha sighed. "Not really sure. I don't know what he can sense so I try to avoid teleporting or going through here. The Verysians think his forces control most of Tria, at least. We've sent some souls to scout the rest of the world but they make poor spies. It seems the Tyrant isn't everywhere. Not yet."

"We need Ymon-Thal." Thal-Verys looked into the distance. "And the others. It has been so long."

"We can't wait forever. I'm not even sure we can wait much longer."

[SquirrelWizard]

Helvang - Outside the village of Havjem

Xeema reclined against at tree as she watched the Flores in their villages below the treeline, a momentary respite from her wanderings, or had she never left. She was a patchwork of memories stitched together of stolen things, having willingly lost much to become whole, yet such was the existence of Xeema. She watched as a Flore and a Tongue argued in the distance, the subject of their disagreement had a different tension than she remembered from time before. Food, land, petty offenses were distant with the arrival of a would-be conqueror god. She felt a twinge of irritation at the mention of his name, Tyrant. The lack of imagination, of creativity, was insulting to her. Seriously, who names themselves after their position and expects to be taken seriously?

Something was in the trees behind her. Furtive movement of scale and claw, a watching reptilian eye bereft of hunger but glutted with concern. Much like the two arguing in the meadow, the raptor-like terror's rivalry with the other two fasted under the collective cloud that now hung over the island, yet the threat wasn't enough to bring them together. No, Xeema thought, it would take more, and she would need to prepare. There was the soft clicking noise as she shook the dice in her hand, and grinned. This was going to be interesting.

Helvang - Later, in a grove between Here and There.

The thief god concentrated as she drew her power around her focusing it as she shook the Deadman's Dice in her hands, the clinking of bone filled the glade as she touched the glowing emerald of her eyepatch and cast the dice. The trimming of her cloak rustled as brown balls of fur fell off landing, rolling, into the small shape of a brown squirrel. The glade swelled with their numbers as she molded them, till eventually she was surrounded by a sea of fur, and glowing eyes. She grinned, satisfied, with their appearance. She had a soft spot for squirrels, favoring their agility and adaptability, these looked normal save for their glowing green eyes, and the intelligence behind them.

"You are Sicurin." Xeema's voice spoke in the minds of her minions. "You will be my eyes and ears; my hidden paw. Gatherers of secrets and pilferers of all. To the world you go, in its vast expanse, my will you will do in furthering of my plans."

Spoiler: Action

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0AP/DC 8 Create magical minions. The Sicurin.
+2 Foresight - Xeema needs eyes and ears among mortals to better construct her plans, the Sicurin will serve in this capacity.
+2 Thievery - They compulsively steal small things, sometimes at Xeema's behest.
+1 Squirrel - They are squirrel in shape and form.
+1 Secrets - Part of their purpose is to get into places they're not supposed to be.
+1 Messanger - Their other purpose is to deliver messages at Xeema's behest, regardless of where the recipient is.
+2 Cheater - They can tresspass in other God's lands without drawing notice to themselves unless they do something to overtly draw attention to themselves.
-2 Curiosity - Like their creator, they are drawn to shiny things, hidden things, things others might not want them to find.

Spoiler: Reactions

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