Pan-aeons: a God Game

[Godzillarich]

Tyrant’s Palace

”“What do you mean YOU FAILED TO TAKE A SCHOOL AGAIN!” Tyrant yelled at the top of his lungs at his crystal ball

“I...sorry sir don’t kill me!” the terrified general said on the other side.

”“YOUR MAN WERE TURNED INTO GIANTS! The enemy gave you an opportunity and YOU ****ED IT UP!” tyrant yelled in fury

“Please… S..sir it disorganized us, made us easier to hit...it..”

”“Enough” Tyrant said as he regained his composure. ”“Whatever, we can get it later, new course of action, take a defensive stance against the enemy borders on Tria. Much of our Army will be in Axia so you won’t get many bailouts.”

The general simply nodded.

”“Good now I need some relax time.” Tyrant said before ending the transmission. Tyrant sat alone in his dark room, increasingly annoyed by the situation unfolding on him. The gods are returning what’s worse new ones were appearing, like an infection on the planet. But something extremely important stuck to his mind. ”“I wanted a cool pirate location for my Empire…” He said sadly to himself but he also briefly thought about the god who was ruined his plans there. ”“Xinnies, why does that name sounds familiar? Was that the person my old employer always talked about?” Tyrant simply scratch this head sitting in his room completely bored. ”“And why do they have so many flying cats and squirrels messing with my troops. That’s the prettiest thing I think I ever seen. I’ll brutally torture them for this.” Tyrant slammed his fist onto his chair causing the entire castle to shake. An idea then struck. He Grabbed his magical orb and called his general again. ”“Go to the old sacrificing tree and then call me back when you get there, I have a way to deal with your problem as my invasion of Axia is going on.”

“Yes sir.” the general simply nodded as the communication close again.

Tyrant then picked up his recently received love letter. ”“At least someone knows how to show some respect.” He smiled to himself.

[flyinglemur]

22 years ago: A fateful presentation

In one of CAT’s many symposiums a black robed man was giving a well rehearsed speech. He was a classic researcher, the kind you didn’t strike up a conversation with because you knew all he’d talk about is CAT’s latest harebrained scheme to make monkey wizards or something. His eyes were red from staying up too long theorizing, but his hands unscarred, the sign of a magic generalist instead of your typical human igniter (pyromancer). He wore bands of magicite, to draw power quickly in case he was struck with some wild inspiration and needed to test it out immediately.

“There’s an old Sugradi idea, that an enchantment is a small mind in an object, that knows only enough to cast its spell. I’ve done some research, and that doesn’t seem to be wrong. If you think about it, there’s not much difference between an enchanted object following its instructions, and a jellyfish that swims along with ocean currents. Of course it's limited, but the more complex an enchantment is, and the more mana you put into it, the more that the object can do. Hypothetically, with enough power, I think it could be possible to make an enchantment with parameters complex enough to respond to anything. Though the amount of mana needed for this would be astronomically high, it’s an interesting thought experiment.”


20 years ago, Spring: Amending the law

“What do I think, WHAT DO I THINK!” screeched the golden dragon throwing the papers across the room with his tail. He calmed down after a few deep breaths, “It’s practically blasphemy.”

“Hang on just hear me out,” said a white robed man, covered in spiral tattoos, the mark of an old rich family.

“What’s there to hear? You’re proposing defilement and sacrilege! How could I ever do that to anyone, let alone Dulnori!” he yelled, his spittle practically drenching the man.

As the human wiped himself off he replied, “Dulnori won’t feel it, and besides, he did it to Nestellbam.”

“It was an emergency.”

“Well this is the result he predicted. The dark demon is marching across the world, and he’s attacking Uyellic right now. That’s our city dammit,” he slammed his hand against a table, “We need something stronger, something to change the tide of this war. Not to mention, something to protect us when he finally reaches Axia.”

The dragon scoffed, “Why worry about that. We spent a few centuries with Valrion on the same continent as us, and he never bothered to move.”

“Because Dulnori had already invaded his dreams. Valrion didn’t want to conquer anything, he wanted to build his pact, and he realized that even if we surrendered we’d never really accept giants or trade with him at all. This is a different situation entirely. The tyrant doesn’t have limits, and he doesn’t care about wealth or infrastructure or law or anything really. He wants to destroy the legacy of the gods, of Nestellbam. If we go extinct then Nestellbam dies with us, and his worst fears will have come true. As a golden dragon, can you let that happen?”

These words struck like a chisel going through an elephant’s spine, and the dragon said, “I can’t, but what authority do I have to do something like this.”

“You don’t have any, but your species does. You’re the divine representatives, you can negotiate new terms in the sacred pact with the Horizon Tribe. We already have the king’s approval, the people will likely vote for it as well, all we need is yours. It’s all properly fitting with Dulnori’s responsibilities. We’re making a prayer, and he’s granting it, he’s honor bound to do it even when he’s asleep. This will only be helpful to mortalkind, and it’s our legal right to have our dreams come true.”

“Dulnori won’t like it.”

“But neither of us are bound to Dulnori, we’re bound to the sacred pact.”

“I will spread the word, and we will take our vote.” The dragon left, and the man began to pick up his papers.

A month later a dragon entered the Emerald Palace and approached the tar pit. He tapped into the power of fortune, and dove into the pit. The palace wanted to keep Dulnori in tar, but it couldn’t bear to hurt something as devout as the dragon, and the dragon’s power was too similar to it’s own substance for it to reject. The tar evaporated, and after several hours of biting and clawing, it managed to rip off Dulnori’s horn.


20 years ago, Fall: Matchmaking

The Ceros pored over books of divinity and history. What CAT needed was power, lots of it, but concentrating enough for their task would be incredibly difficult. Eventually, they settled on one thing.

“Prayer,” said the young researcher

“Prayer? What on Oerch do you mean by prayer,” questioned the old leader of the sub-committee.

“It’s undeniable that prayer is a source of power. The more time passes the stronger Dulnori becomes. We already have others replying to prayers, but what if we transferred them to our project in the first place. The celestials prove that even non-gods can be empowered that way.”

“That will never work,” he replied, “you youngsters always try these fancy schemes. We’re using Dulnori’s horn as the base of the project, so any worship directed to it will probably just be absorbed by Dulnori.”

“You can’t prove that old man,” she said, bopping her superior on his horn for good measure.

“Don’t play with me girly. My intuition on these things hasn’t failed me in the last 50 years. Why I remember the time we were testing a new potion in 1663 and …”

“You’ve already told me this story!” she yelled, “Ugh, look. Whether or not that would work with the horn alone isn’t the point. When Dulnori tried to make the golden dragons alone he failed, he needed Su’ule to help. The balance of the female blessing and the male blessing made them more stable. The same rule will probably apply to our project, we’re going to need a divine contribution from a goddess. And if we mix together the blood of two gods, then our project won’t just be another piece of Dulnori, and it’ll receive it’s own prayers properly.”

The old dinosaur looked at her questioningly, “Did I hear you right or is my hearing finally going out?”

“You heard me,”

He slapped his head with his wooden hand, “Of all the dumb ideas I’ve heard in my time this one takes the cake. How would we even get that blood? We’d need the corpse of a dead goddess, which doesn’t exactly give us many options.”

“There’s Opulon.”

“Her body’s in probably in the Boa jungle so we’ve got no way of getting it,”

“Vreyalas?”

“Even assuming they died in female form their body’s dissolved throughout Theshana.”

“Aladatrial?”

“Her blood would just spoil the whole thing? Like us”

“Yah you’re right about that. Hmm, what about Enheduanna?”

“Who’s that?”

The youngster chuckled, “Looks like I finally found a piece of lore I know that you don’t. Maybe you should study more you fossil.” She tapped her head, toc toc toc.

The old coot shook his fist, “Just answer the question girly.”

“She died very young, all the way back in the first age. Dulnori only figured out who she was because of something Su’ule said. We think she’s the one that attached prayer to sorcery, and had devotion as one of her domains. If you think about it, she’d actually be perfect for this.”

“Hey, there’ll be no blasphemy in this committee missy.”

She rolled her eyes, “I don’t mean literally perfect. What I mean is she’d be great here. A domain is just a god’s expertise, but their abilities can still linger in their body even with them gone, like a chicken running around with no head. That weird raptor used father Grawisson’s bones to build things, with her bones we could probably capture prayer pretty easily. And she probably died in Axia, up north, I bet we can get Su’ule’s worshippers to let us search.”

The old man gave her a pat on the back, “Not a bad idea kid. Maybe there’s still some hope for your generation.”


18 years ago- The Journey through the Gnaw Wastes

It had been two years of exploration through the most bitter parts of the great north. CAT’s expeditionary force had managed to narrow down the location somewhat thanks to local help, but the grand prize still eluded them, and the whole process was very difficult. Aquamancy could only help so much, since their best aquamancers were Dramos, and the cold was absolutely deadly to them. They devised a system where a pair of explorers, one human and one Dramo, would travel using sled dogs. The Dramo would improve the terrain as best as possible, while the human would guide the dogs mundanely to save mana. Every journey was perilously finite, the Dramo depended on flame salves to survive, and if that ran out their partner’s pyromancy would act as a stop gap solution until they got back to camp. The golden dragon’s blessings of fortune helped, but they could only do so much against the severity of the environment.

The journey would end when a certain pair that was travelling was suddenly overtaken by a blizzard. They had already nearly lost hope in their quest, and with the blizzard even their lives were at stake. As the storm raged their dogs suddenly deserted them, and the duo was forced to wander on foot.

“Curse this miserable place, curse CAT, curse everything,” said the Dramos. He slumped to the ground defeated.

“I’m with you buddy,” the human sat down, “If we’re gonna die no matter what, we might as well stop struggling.”

“How did we even end up in this mess?”

“For our country,” the human gave a weak fist pump.

“For our stupid country, and now we’re never gonna see it again.”

“You know what the worst part about all this is? We might get reborn in Tria.”

“Why did you have to say that,” groaned the Dramo, “You’ve jinxed it. It’s probably gonna happen now. We’re gonna have to worship that dumb bird.”

“So dumb,”

“It’s like, I’m basically a bird already, and you know I don’t see what the fuss is all about.”

“That’s true, my hands are so much better than yours.”

“Shut up,”

“It’s true, five fingers are better than three everyone knows that.”

“I’ll bite off your fingers,” said the Dramo and he snapped at the air for good measure.

“Don’t do it, or I’ll never forgive you.”

“What does it matter, you’ll be dead anyway.”

“I’ll swear an oath, every future life we have I’m gonna find you and kill you.”

“You would do that you bastard,”

“It’ll be glorious.”

They were silent for a while, and then the human asked, “One last prayer?”

In unison they said that phrase, that eternal phrase, that had echoed through seventeen centuries worth of lives.

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

And then they tried to look outwards at the horizon, but the blizzard had long since swept it away, so they just imagined the horizon. They kept on imagining, and it became more and more real to them, until eventually they could almost see it. And then suddenly they did see it. The blizzard abruptly stopped, and the gorgeous horizon appeared before them, and in it they saw their whole lives reflected. After that, they saw the ravine. A massive chasm they hadn’t noticed, though that seemed impossible. They were drawn to it, and at the bottom they saw the most beautiful thing they had ever seen in two years.

Only a few hours later the pair arrived at the base camp, their salve and their mana had just run out, but they made it. In their hands was a single tooth, from the body of Enheduanna.

[Batcathat]

Ymon-Thal, Thal-Verys and Ymon-Desha, The Landing, the Boa Jungle

The last time Ymon-Thal had visited the Landing it had been in the middle of a lively city, the center of the entire Yith civilization and surrounded by impressive buildings filled with people. The buildings remained – some of them, at least – but they were abandoned and crumbling. None of the groups that inhabited them had officially existed for over a decade, though despite the fact that the still teaming city around them was always short on living quarters no one had moved into the former houses of the holy orders. And if the Tyrant's forces had actually looked and thought for a moment they might have noticed that the circular area dedicated to the now forbidden god was still kept entirely free of both buildings and vegetation.

The Twin God had once again arrived at the Landing, though manifesting directly on the ground greeted only by three people instead of floating down from the sky cheered on by thousands.

"Any response?" Ymon-Desha asked the only mortal present.

"Almost everyone", replied Falon, known to most as an unremarkable spice trader and to a few as Verys-Falon, current leader of the Verysian Order. "We are just..." She was interrupted as something barely visible flashed by and disappeared in front of her. "Oh, there we go." She took a deep breath as the soul that had just bonded to her Junction released its payload of information into her mind. "That's everyone. The leadership of all the groups are informed and in agreement."

"Excellent", Thal said impatiently. "Now that everyone knows everything, perhaps we can proceed?"

"Woo!" Ymon spun around his own shoulder and almost into a building. "Finally! It's been forever!"

"It's been barely half an hour."

"Close enough. Let's goooo..."

"Yes." Thal almost smiled. "Let us."

Like an explosion – an invisible, silent explosion – Ymon-Thal's power rushed outwards from the Landing, through the city and countryside around it and further still, pulsating through every living thing.

Spoiler: Action!

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Influence a continent-sized area (20 AP/16 DC) to connect everything* living in Tria** into the Web of Souls
(* All plants and animals but only sentient beings with an active Junction)
(** All of Tria as well as the Eye of the Worlds (+ 2 Eye of the Worlds) and Ochtal. All in all 48 map squares plus part of one for Ochtal)

On the surface, nothing changes in the area affected. But beneath the physical, the spirit (+ 2 Soul) of every plant, every animal are now tied to each other, subconsciously aware of everything else in the new network of the living (+ 1 Connection, + 2 Life). The roots of a tree instinctively grow towards a source of water "found" by another tree, a rabbit sensing a wolf approach and a bird subconsciously knowing just where the worms are, all of the forest know a fire is coming by the time it has consumed its first bush. With everything connected, the ecosystem almost consciously strives toward balance (+ 1 Balance).

The sentient beings – humans, Tongues, Yithal and all the rest – are an exception to the Web of Souls, both unsensing and unsensable. The sole exception is someone with an active Junction who can not only tap into the web but do so consciously, able to sense through the senses (+ 2 Body) of anything living in the affected area. They also no longer need souls to bring individual messages, memories or knowledge, instead being continuously connected to each other as long as they are within the area affected by the Web of Souls (though they are always able to choose to connect and what to share). Additionally, they are connected to Grawissen's library in the Passing (+ 2 The Passing) to tap into further knowledge.

Although a connection between the living, it does not end with death. Although only someone with a Junction can communicate directly with them, the souls of the dead (+ 2 Death) are able to use the Web to watch over the living they leave behind.

Total bonus: + 14

[Red Lenses]

Frostreach - Feylthal
Volager

Spoiler: I.

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Two housecarls dragged Thokir into the longhouse, handling him like a slain elk. They forced him to his knees, and one ripped off the sack that had been placed over his head. Thokir grunted and shook his head as his eyes adjusted to the light. His father’s senior Thanes were seated at a long table, adorned with empty plates and scraps of food.

The quiet of the longhouse was uncharacteristic, but unsurprising given the circumstances.
Loron, the youngest of the three, picked at something between his teeth. “Welcome home, Thokir.”

“Murderous wretch,” grunted Argis, frowning beneath a considerable grey beard.

Thokir tested the rope that bound his hands again. They held fast. Much could be said of his father’s housecarls, but they knew how to die a good knot. Pity they had proven less adept at saving his life.

Thokir smiled meekly, and resolved to talk his way out. “This is all a grave misunderstanding. I’ve done nothing wrong.”

Argis guffawed disdainfully. “You ran pretty far for an innocent man.”

“Yes, well, with assassins about, one can never be too sure.”

The third Thane, the usually stoic Halof, smacked the table with a hand. “Enough small-talk. We have the Jarl’s murderer here. Let’s sentence him and be done with it.”

Thokir swallowed nervously. “Sentence? Don’t I get a trial?”

Argis ignored him. “Agreed. Have him strapped to the mountain and left for the animals, like any other kin-slayer.”

“That’s too good for him,” Halof returned. “Drawn and quartered. Flayed, maybe. Then have the scraps burned.”

Thokir cleared his throat, “Perhaps a trial to determine the extent – or existence – of my alleged guilt could help…”

“Your guilt has already been decided by Jarl Eydis,” Loron smiled joylessly at him now. “Special orders. And in accordance to your father’s laws, his Thanes will determine the sentence.”

His mouth went dry. “Jarl Eydis? My sister lived?”

Argis snorted. “Don’t sound so relieved.”

“Or surprised,” Halof added, crossing his arms.

This was, to put it delicately, not how it was supposed to go. But he could get out of this yet. That was what he did. Nothing stuck to Thokir. Nothing.

“I’d like to speak with her.”

“If she were interested, she’d be here herself,” Loron said, “Anyway, seems like it’s unanimous: the sentence is death.”

“Aye,” confirmed both Argis and Halof.

Thokir stared blankly, so Loron continued.

“Your great-grandfather decreed all executions are to be carried out by the Priests. And last I checked,” Loron eyed both Halof and Argis, “That law remains. No exceptions. Unless I’m mistaken?”

Both Thanes frowned and looked away. Thokir stammered in preparation for a rebuttal, but could not find words. He attempted to rise off his knees, only to be forced down by the Housecarls.

Loron called over his shoulder, “Where’s that shady vulture of ours?”

On cue, the High Priest of Grahlheim emerged from the shadows behind the Thanes. Full regalia. Black, feathered robes. A beaked half-mask of wooden, ornately carved. A cowl covered his head, and one eye was wrapped behind a dark cloth. Less than a quarter of his face was visible through all the garb, and it showed weathered skin and a piercing, icy blue eye.

The Carrion Priests had always given Thokir the creeps. Borgas especially, with his strange manner of speaking. Too formal.

“Honored Thanes of Grahlheim, favored servants of Jarl Eydis,” Borgas droned, “I shall carry out your sentence, and dispose of the condemned in a manner befitting his most heinous crimes.”

Loron picked at a crumb of bread on his plate, and popped it into his mouth. “Okay then. Get on with it.”

Borgas nodded to the Housecarls, who struck Thokir in the back of the head before throwing the sack over his face once again. They dragged him from the room, heedless of his protests. Borgas gave a perfunctory bow and followed them out, gliding like a specter.

Frostreach - Feylthal
The Valley of the Black Pools

Spoiler: II.

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Thokir blearily returned to consciousness. When the sack was next ripped from his head again, two of Borgas’ acolytes were before him. A man and a woman, considerably younger than Borgas. Their feathered robes and wooden masks were not so ornate, but they were unmistakably part of the priesthood. No more Housecarls. Troubling.

Thokir blinked against the gloom, trying to regain his bearings. It was the dead of night. Not a star visible in the sky. He was restrained to something. A flat surface. Wooden. Some kind of… Slab? Propped up against a wagon. Probably the one that had conveyed them all here.

“Yeah, he’s awake,” observed the woman. She held up a lantern, and the soft glow allowed him to better see his surroundings. They were on some kind of cliffside. A quaint yet eerie valley stretched around them.

“I’ll alert High Priest Borgas,” the man said, promptly before taking his own lantern and wandering off.

The woman stared at Thokir for a few moments, head tilted in curiosity, before wandering away. He heard a rustling noise as she shifted through her belongings. Alone, with someone young and impressionable. This could be his chance.

“You should let me go,” Thokir said, quickly. “I’m innocent.”

“Uh-huh,” came the flat reply.

Thokir twisted vainly against the shackles that held him there. “I mean it. I’ve been set up by Eydis. And Loron.”

Silence. This usually worked. He didn’t usually deal with the carrion priests if he could avoid it. Something about those creeps…

“I can make you rich. I have gold, hidden away,” Thokir tried again. “If I can unseat Eydis, I’ll make you High Priestess.”

She abruptly came back from around the wagon again, holding the lantern close to his face. “How rich?”

The glow of the lantern made him turn away. “Enough – enough to buy your own Jarldom. Whatever you want.”

“Sounds nice. Open your mouth again for me?”

The light abated as she lowered it, and Thokir blinked, bewildered, “Why?”

He had unwittingly complied, and she shoved a scrap of cloth into his mouth. Thokir spasmed and struggled as she tied the gag in place. When finished, she gave him a pat on the head.

“Borgas said you were a talker. Thanks anyway.”

The acolyte left him alone after that, leaving Thokir to struggle alone. He eventually tired and became resigned, but then noticed sets of eyes in the faraway tree line.

Bright white. Motionless. They observed his plight from a distance. Thokir had seen such eyes before: the Dreg that occasionally appeared to advise his father or Borgas. But he had never seen so many in one place. For that many to be collected here… This could only be one place. And if it were…

Thokir renewed his struggles with increased vigor. At one point the acolyte came to check on him again but, observing that he had made no progress, left him once more. When she next returned, Borgas and the other acolyte were with her. And by then Thokir had exhausted himself.

“I apologize for the wait,” Borgas said, looming closer. “I am sure you are as eager to see this business concluded as I am.”

Thokir could only give a muffled, gurgling reply, which may have roughly meant, “Please, please do not kill me.”

“It is important to me that you understand the extent of your sin, and why this must be done,” Borgas continued, glancing away and into the darkness. The Dregs were still present. “By murdering your father and attempting to usurp him, you have committed a sin far greater than banal kinslaying.”

Thokir spoke more incomprehensible words, which probably meant something along the lines of, “I didn’t do it, I’m innocent. Please, please let me go.”

“You have overturned the stability which was promised to us by Melwas, the most gracious Lord Unchanging. It is no longer within my purview as High Priest to forgive you, nor would it be adequate to carry out our traditional sentences.”

The acolytes came to either side of the wooden slab and, with great effort, lifted it off the ground. They carried Thokir forward, towards the edge of the cliff. And like any other man who knew they were sure to die, Thokir began his struggling again.

“For your crimes, Thokir, I curse you forever in name and death. You are denied your rightful burial and final rest. You shall likewise never know the honor or glory of being called to serve once more. I condemn you to be conveyed directly to Great Melwas, that you might find some form of mercy before him.”

The acolytes held Thokir just ad the edge of the cliff and, seeing a final nod from Borgas, released him – slab and all – over the side. They observed his brief fall, rotating several times, before striking the surface of the black pool beneath far below – face down. There was no splash. Only a thud. If Thokir survived the impact, what remained of him surely begged for death.

It would come slowly. The slab slowly began to sink, absorbed into the tar-like substance. Borgas, his acolytes, and the Dregs below watched in silence as it vanished, bit by bit, underneath the pool.

They remained there for quite some time, until the last corner of the slab was gone from the view of their lanterns. Pair by pair, the eyes of the Dregs vanished from the trees. By their departure, Borgas knew his purpose here was fulfilled, and he and his acolytes made their hasty departure.

Far beneath the Black Pool, Melwas received his gift with muted pleasure.

Spoiler: Secondary Action!

Show

Melwas: 88/100 AP
1 AP/0 DC: Demand the Sacrifice of one mortal

Melwas: 87/100 AP, 3 BP

[Godzillarich]

Vesuvius- Slave Pits

The cries of agony ran rampant in the prison hellhole Island. A group of 30 guards carried in chains a group of 50 people of various races along the beaten path.

“Tyrants is going to be happy bringing these jokers in.” One of the guards mumbled to another guard to the side of him. Said guard looked out into the distance. His partner looked at him in confusion. “Um, are you doing?”

“Counting down…” he simply replied

The other man looked at him weirdly. “To wha…”

(BANG!)

Something blasted from the floor beneath the guards in the back “OH YEAH!” screamed out a massive elephant Celestial. “Time to teach you the meaning of punisphant!” the celestial screamed as he started bashing heads.

The two guards backed away. One of the guards grabbed something from his pocket, a blood poison insignia. Used by the Tyrant Empire to execute prisoners in case they escaped.

(Slash)

A blade then pierced the back of the guard. “I’ll be taking that…” A voice mumble as he grabbed the piece of paper. The guard fell down to the ground. What stood behind him was a changeling in a top hat and monocle and a blue robe. “... Frankly, I’m surprised you didn’t see it coming.”

The celestial ran up to the changeling “HI five, Mimic!”

Mimic simply looked at him. “All you deserve is a stabbing after that horrible pun. Peter, I mean holy hell that wasn’t even a pun, that was combining two words together to make other nonsense.”

“There they are!” Mimic and Peter looked up at the pathway above, they saw over 100 guards all on horseback in front of them. “... Don’t let them take the prisoners, CHANGE!”

“Oh, ****!” Mimic and Peter ready themselves for their impending death.

But then by some miracle, a figure jumped over them. A Yithal female wearing a dress of pure red. “I’m sorry we are late, had a lot of goons to punch before we got here.”

The guard in front smacked. “What? Are we supposed to be afraid of one stupid, in pure…” Just then Déjà Vu appeared above her. The guards’ eyes widened. “OH SHII…”

“ORA ORA ORA ORA ORA ORA ORA ORA ORA ORA ORA ORA ORA ORA ORA ORA ORA ORA ORA ORA ORA ORA ORA ORA ORA ORA ORA ORA ORA ORA ORA ORA ORA ORA ORA ORA ORRRRRRRRRRRRRRAA!”

The guards went flying in many different directions, littering the road. The Yithal and Déjà Vu turned towards their compatriots. “Let us move now.” The female Yithal Told the other two.

Mimic put away his blade “While obvious Anguish, let’s get the hell out of here.”

“The last one to ship is a rotten egg.” Peter yelled.
___

As the gang approached the ship they saw 10 bodies lying upon the dock. A tallhead wearing a pirate hat came to the side of the ship. “It’s about time you guys showed up, holding them off was getting born.”

Mimic looked at him in annoyance. “We told you not to cause a ruckus, Scott.”

“Well I tried.” he yelled back as he cleaned his sword. “But then they tried to touch my liquor. NO ONE touches my liquor.”

As they were arguing Anguish started loading people onto the ship. “We can talk about your out of control alcohol addiction later, right now we need to get out of here.”
___

Off the shore of Vesuvius

The crew of the ship were supplying the rescued prisoners with some water and some decent food. “Rrrrr, nice job scalawags!” Scott said as he handed the four rescuers some liquor to relish the victories.

“We were sloppy.” Mimic interrupted. “... It was a good thing they were incompetent because if any of those guards had one more brain cell we would be dead.”

Peter simply shook his head. “You always give us a hard time about how we do our job.”

“Because this is war Peter, and one wrong move can cost you everything.” Mimic responded coldly as he started drinking the liquor.

“I don’t know…” Anguish said with a smile. “... The possibility of death makes things all the more interesting hehehe.”

Déjà vu slams his fist onto the table. “War is not a game, death is rarely questionable stop acting so happy. We kill people to achieve our mission.”

“Lass they had it come…” Scott said as he poured another cup of liquor “...they’ve killed far too many innocence for me to care about their lives.” He then stopped himself from drinking his 12th cup. “By the way where is…?

(BOOOM!)

An explosion rang out from the side of the ship. “Caption, enemy ship inbound.” the crew made on the crow’s nest said as he pointed towards the enemy ship. Everyone turned it. It was five times larger than their ship and there was a massive cannon, the size of about five houses in the front.

“Oh Crap!” Peter yelled out. Unduly horrified by the situation.

Mimic turned towards Anguish. “Is this what you had in mind when you said you like your life being on the line?”

Anguish sweated slightly. “I didn’t think it would be this deadly.”

Just then something flew over their ship. Mimic looked up and smiled. “So there is your friend Déjà Vu.”

The figure stopped. Standing between the two ships. The cannon fired, heading directly towards the figure. And then on a dime, the cannonball stopped. And then with a simple shove, the cannonball was flung back at the ship.

(BOOOM!)

The ship exploded into burning wreckage. “As simple as that…” The figure mumbled to himself as he flew to the main ship, landing on the deck.

“You didn’t need to kill them there!” Déjà Vu said to the figure in frustration.

“As mentioned before this is war…” the figure said as he lowered his hood. “... And besides you among everyone else should know how I operate.” He removed the hood revealing Vultur.

[Xenopax]

The Mind-Web of Tria

Something that may be interesting to the Reader, is that the Author of this Article was found beaten to death. The Author had been a close associate of the Nameless Cult, despite never having taken the final step to get rid of his own. While there was never any proof found, it was quite clear that he had been murdered for nearly leaking their secrets.

---

In Tria, there's a certain power in the air. Ymon-Thal made his World Mind there Ages ago. That much is common knowledge.

But what isn't, is the fact that a certain group of people can use the World Mind to their own advantage, without the Junctions. After close conversation with many of the Nameless Order, I was on the verge of joining their cause¹, when one of the elders offered to show me something he thought would bring me over the edge to join them.

He took me to a back room, away from the peering eyes and let me access the Mind-Web. I explored it as an outsider, but I saw so much. It was like an ocean of thought, piggybacking upon the connections made by Ymon-Thal's own world mind. From what I saw, there was no actual connection to said world mind, but it was an instantaneous form of Conversation from any of the Nameless and Faceless with no concern for the Balance. I saw horrific things of flesh and bone talking to Children in their sleep, telling them of things they had no business knowing². I saw the Heralds path, and how the Nameless were keeping his movement quiet. I saw just how many of our Elected Officials ceased to exist once they came to office, and were replaced by Nameless for the Crime of trying to get rid of the Holy Men. Last, I saw the Great Shifter himself, his mind touching all those who took his name, rejoicing in their free will.

He looked upon me in amusement, and granted me permission to stay as long as I'd like in his gift to his Chosen. His hand went toward my thought form, but retracted it half way, seeming almost to sense a grander jest in the Future. Perhaps he was predicting this article. I left the Mind-Web soon and pretended to be amazed. I then left to my home, where I am currently writing this. By the time this hits the Newspapers tomorrow³, I will be gone. I am attaching a list of family lines infiltrated by the Order⁴ and I hope the people of this fine country are awoken like I am. The Holy men of the Nameless are not as benign as they appear.

---

¹During the Authors time, the Nameless order had calmed down, or atleast it appeared to be. While in truth, it was just suppression of information, it had the effect of making the Common man far more accepting of their presence.
²These seem to be Faceless, exhibiting before unknown powers.
³Unfortunately, the Article never was published. His house was burnt down in an "accident", and this transcript was only made available to the Library, decades after the Incident.
⁴Said list was never found. Note how he used Family Lines, instead of naming particular Nameless, indicating the existence of whole families made entirely of the Cult.

Spoiler

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Giving aid to Ymon-Thal.

+1 Mutation: The Nameless piggyback upon the Hive Mind that Ymon-Thal creates, making a similar form of communication for themselves.
+1 Insanity: Some can use this to communicate with those asleep with open minds, like children or artists.
+2 Flesh: Only organics will be able to connect with the Hivemind. Anything metal, like a Kill bot, won't be able to access it even with a Junction.

[Batcathat]

A Tyrant army camp, somewhere in Tria

The night was too bright. Ratak awoke from the screaming around him and reached for his spear as he opened his eyes and sat up. Fire. All around him, all around the camp. The roaring flames seemed to consume everything in sight. Except... except they weren't exactly consuming anything were they? Ratak suppressed the panic screaming through his body and tried to think. The flames were everywhere and his fellow soldiers were running around, hopelessly trying to escape it. Yet none of them seemed to be swallowed by the fire. None of them seemed even burned by it.

Ignoring the sights and sounds around him, Ratak reached out towards the nearest flames and held his breath as he stuck his hand into the fire. It felt... a little warm, maybe. No burning, no pain.

"Oh, a clever one", said a voice next to him. Ratak spun around. No one there.

"W-what... what is happening?"

"Right. Sorry", said the voice and suddenly a woman appeared in front of him. Or was she? Maybe it was the dramatic lighting of the burning(?) camp but she didn't look quite... right? Not to mention wearing a dress that seemed to be made almost entirely of precious stones and sporting a hairdo that made the dress look like a peasant's by comparison. "Fire is boring anyway, let's.."

He thrusted his spear at her chest. Whoever - whatever - she was, she was an enemy. But instead of the familiar feeling of the spear piercing flesh, Ratak felt... nothing, as if he'd just jabbed his spear through the air.

The woman glanced down at the spear sticking through her chest and took a step to the side, the spear remaining in place as her body passed right through it. Ratak started lowering the spear towards the ground but she suddenly grabbed onto it and before Ratak's brain had processed how she could all of a sudden touch it, he saw, felt, the spear fade away.

"Much better", said the woman. "Where was I? Oh, right, fire being so boring. I wanted something like this." She waved her hand and out of nowhere an enormous man in heavy armor appeared.

"LOOK AT ME!" The giant screamed. "I'M THE TYRANT! BOO! I'M SO SCARY!" It started dancing. "LET'S DO 'THE TYRANT' EVERYBODY! ONE, TWO, THREE, FOUR!"

The woman looked at Ratak. "Right? This would be way better than some stupid fire, right?"

Ratak opened his mouth and closed it again. As he struggled to find any words, he realized that the screams around him had changed. No longer the sounds of panic and confusion but rather screams of pain and pure terror. Most of the fire had disappeared, leaving no ashes behind and Ratak saw several more maybe-humans.

"Is it time for this already? Oh well", said the woman and the giant stopped dancing, leaning forward towards Ratak.

"I'M THE TYRANT! WANNA KNOW A SECRET?"

Ratak barely felt the blade as the woman jabbed it into his back, only gasping once before falling dead to the ground.

The illusions faded and soon after the landscape did the same as Valana stepped back into the Passing. So thoughtful of them to make camp right at a crossroads. By the next camp Valana hoped to have convinced the others to do something other than fire. Birds, maybe? Giant birds?

Spoiler: Help for Petr

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Ymon-Thal unleashes the Yithal on the area Petr is attempting to cleanse. Not much for open battle, the Yithal prefer to strike suddenly from the Passing (+ 2 The Passing), sowing chaos and death (+ 2 Death) targeting the Tyrant's forces almost randomly.

[flyinglemur]

17 years ago- The Forging

First the tooth and the horn were ground together into a fine powder. Then they constructed a basin of iron. Carved into it were a vast array of symbols, some were ancient and historical, while others were entirely new, the personal symbols of this invention. The powder was dropped into the basin, and CAT began to perform new sacred rites. They gave a year and a day to the object, everything they did was in its name and for its glorification. The group was small of course, but with the power of Enheduanna, it was natural for the object to respond to this devotion. When the period was complete they filled the basin with witchwood, and performed a vast ritual of enchantment and pyromancy.

“Primary instruction: Seek glory honorably.”

With those words the fuel went ablaze. The wood and powder were quickly consumed, and the fire soon shrank coalescing into a single wisp. It was small, but already burnt bright. It looked around, seeing many strange robed creatures. One of the creatures drew closer to it, staring into its flame. She warmed her hands against the fire and said in a sweet and soothing voice.

“You are Enota.”

17-12 years ago- The Learning Process

For five years the flame was fed on mana, witchwood, and countless scrolls. Sacred histories, poems, geology, magical knowledge, everything was copied and burnt in the growing fire. They hoped it would learn this way, absorbing what it consumed, because simply talking to it seemed to be going nowhere. Occasionally Enota seemed to show interest in some of the researchers, but it would never leave its basin, and never respond using words. It just ate and flew, travelling in and out of the carvings in the basin. Meanwhile they continued praying, by now they had spread the idea beyond CAT, and a significant portion of the population had come to believe that when Dulnori returned a new divinity would be born.

Though it wasn’t visible Enota was learning. During his first two years he could do nothing but contemplate his instructions, and try desperately to fulfill them, but he didn’t know what glory or honor were. He only knew that he craved them. During these years he could only feel the growth and motion of his flaming heart. However, in the second year his programming evolved. The Miracle Games happened, and many of the competitors dedicated their glory to him rather than the two gods. With this massive influx of power he gained a sense of taste. Books and scrolls were umami, mana was sweet, and witchwood was salty. Before he simply ate by accident, but now he sought out food, wandering blind until his motion slowed down. He savored everything he received, and so the words began to flow into him. In the third and fourth year he gained the rest of his senses, and a few stray dreams seeped into him. In the fifth year he began to understand language, and the words started making sense. He couldn’t understand everything, but glory and honor at least started to have meaning.

12 years ago- First Contact

It was a winter’s day, and a Sagran Razorgrass was throwing fuel into the pit as usual. It was a simple job, just watch the fire for any change, which never happened. Some were even theorizing that if the rate of progress didn’t change the project would take a century to complete. Frankly she was starting to get sick of the job. Everyday she was bored out of her skull. You weren’t allowed to leave the room until your shift was over, and the room itself was awfully drab. It was just stark grey stone, nothing that could distract the researcher from this oh so important job was allowed. Even the chairs were carved out of stone, since wooden chairs were flammable, making them uncomfortable to sit in and difficult to move. Today in particular was especially boring, the flame barely moved. That boredom, combined with the warmth of her thick winter coat, meant she soon fell asleep. She dreamed of stories from her childhood, where she took the role of her namesake who lived a millenia ago, an ancient hero. A time when the world was young and the steppe was vast, with adventure around every corner. And in this familiar dream, she heard an unfamiliar voice.

“I didn’t know the first Sagran had done so much in her life.”

She was spooked, the stable order of her dream was interrupted. “Who's there? Show yourself villain,” she said in the imagined voice of her hero.

"I only knew she lost the chance to wear a mask, I guess she did more than I thought.”

It’s then when the researcher saw the intruder in her mind, the wisp of flame and its basin, looking absolutely out of place surrounded by grass and animals.

"Enota?”

“Yes.”

“How are you here? No wait, you’re the worm’s child. Of course you can do this.”

“Did I do good?” He sounded very strange to Sagran, like someone whose throat had been replaced with windchimes.

“Um, yes. It’s great that your powers have finally come in. Ooh, you should try moving out of your basin.”

“What do you mean?”

“You know, the basin you’ve been stuck in. We’ve been waiting for you to move out of it.”

“How can I move out of my own body?”

The realization quickly hit Sagran, and when she woke up she rushed out of the room.

“Hey you can’t abandon your post…” from one of the guards was interrupted with, “We need a team of miners now.”

Enota was freed from the ground that same day, and without the earth blocking the way, he learned to move and control the iron portion of his body, and then to speak in the waking world. He spent the next twelve years in further education and learning to master his divine shape. It was a long and difficult process, but eventually they were able to discover his unique abilities, and when Dulnori returned they could be fully realized. It was truly obvious in hindsight, just as Dulnori needed to leave the earth he was born in so too would his child.

The present day- The Emerald Palace

Dulnori would awaken a little later than the other gods, and was greeted immediately by CAT.

“Glory to the rhino. I’m Razorgrass, and several omens predicted your return now,” said Sagran.

“Very efficient. I already like this new generation,” Dulnori said happily.

As the two walked to the exit Dulnori felt a strange, slowness. It was like, something was dragging him, yanking on his body.

Sagran saw Dulnori’s expression, and responded with her pre-rehearsed line. “You may be feeling a little off. There’s, demonic influence going on in this time, your body should adjust as we leave the Diviworld.”

Reassured Dulnori walked on, and when the two crossed planes he felt the dragging cease, but in turn felt a strange emptiness.
“Have I, already lost divine power? This doesn’t make sense, I haven’t done anything yet.”

“So, the thing is, you sort of already have?” Razorgrass said nervously.

“WHAT DOES THAT MEAN?” yelled Dulnori, absolutely bewildered.

“We’ve updated the sacred pact, by creating a third divinity for the kingdom.”

As Dulnori looks around he sees vast banners hanging from buildings, and he can hear great chanting and singing. A great festival is happening in Rokanon, in honor of Dulnori’s return, and the ascension of Enota.

Spoiler: Artificial Action

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18 AP/14 DC: create a demigod. Enota +2 Energy
Enota’s divinity is finalized. Enota already had some of these powers as he developed, but they were dependent on the mana and worship he was being fed. Now they come from his own divine person, just as the powers of any other demigod do.

+1 Symbiosis: Dulnori’s work last age improved his skill in biological connections considerably, and has become the basis of Enota’s power. He exists to work with other beings and machines, and give them more energy. He also has a natural symbiosis with Dulnorian species, quickening the growth of manacaps, witchwood, and even strengthening golden dragons.
+2 Ambition: He will be able to strengthen both individuals and the whole nation, and thus raise up everyone, and show people the power they could wield once they reach their true potential.
+2 Fortune: As expected of something with Dulnori’s blood, he has uncanny luck, and can read omens out of games.
+1 Dreams: Like a golden dragon dreams are his plaything
+2 Harken Steppe: As the place of his ancestry he is linked to it, able to subtly sense danger there and pick out those with ill intent.
+1 Sailing: He’s a superb sailor, on both rivers and ocean, with unparalleled navigational skills. On his ship, you’ll never lose course.

Like Deja Vu or the Council, his powers, though equal to any other demigod, are dependent on other people and objects. This is the result of Enheduanna’s blood, letting him aid others but weakening his autonomy. On his own he has only his hard iron shell, and amateur level pyromantic powers. With his energy domain however, he can temporarily energize any mortal considerably strengthening their skills. How this manifests varies depending on the individual and their skills. For example, a mage will be flooded with mana and be able to cast spells they never thought possible. He revitalizes the weakened and tired. In effect, he’s a well of power. This can also work on complex systems like machines. He can fuel a furnace for ages, make a windmill spin with great rapidity, and when electricity spreads he will invariably become a source of electrical power. This can even apply to some non-mortal organisms, though less than it works on humans. An old wolf for example could get the energy of his youth back and lead his pack on the hunt once again, and he can supply a leafless tree with a surge of calories to let it better survive the winter.

Like his father he has several forms and names. He speaks in all of them with a strange voice that always has a metallic effect. Like chimes almost.

The forge: His most common form for travel and interacting with others. He appears like a suit of iron armor filled with a churning fire. Think NRG from Ben 10.

The cauldron: A large cauldron boiling with a purple liquid and a strong fire beneath. He often takes this form to sleep. When in this shape his energy is distributed by drinking the liquid. Of note is that his power can’t be stolen, someone who drinks it without permission will only scald their throat.

The mirror: A tall vanity mirror, this is how he shares dreams. Placed in front of a sleeper the mirror will show their dreams instead of their reflection.

The chariot: A beautiful bronze and gold chariot pulled by strange jeweled horses, and able to travel through terrain less flat than one would expect a normal chariot to be able to go through. Great for taking friends to parties.

[Maryring]

South of Eaglebeak Rock: Warcamp

The massive tent of Nerassus rises up in the middle of an otherwise uniform ocean of whitish tarp. The centre-piece of his massive army moving north. The eastern coasts of the old Empire has been wholly liberated, and he is ready to take his army north into the jungle to liberate the Starfolk, Yith, and Eaglebeak Rock. Nerassus himself is walking among the tents to get a feel of how the army is doing. Their many recent victories has left them with high morale, but now they fight not just the Tyrant's troops, but the jungle itself, with all it's many pitfalls. Disease, temperature, rain. The utter lack of infrastructure that will make logistics a pain.

Nerassus allows a long, fluid breath to escape his lungs. He can hear the battlebards as they strum and tune their instruments. The aquamancers have grabbed everyone who knows the simplest of healing spells and are working themselves dry to limit the spread of a strange new disease. It only hurts those of the homo genus, so the Celestials are kept busy isolating and caring for those displaying symptoms. Disease will probably be even more of an issue from here on out. He'll have to send for more magicite. Perhaps he can strike a deal with the steppe for those mana mushrooms.

"Yo! Nera!" The flapping of fiery wings precedes Mika diving in to hover before him. "You're a hard man to find."

"I'm thrice as tall as the second tallest tent here."

"Yeah, which makes you really hard to find in the tents obviously." Mika gives a cheeky grin. "We're ready for the war council... is what I want to say. But Petr showed up, so I figure you two have stuff to talk about first."

"Wh?!" Nerassus darts towards his tent, opening it to find Petr standing before a map of Tria made of ice, carving directions and symbols with the brush of a finger. The rest of his inner circle stand behind them, absorbing their words like a sponge. "Mother?"

"Ah, good of you to join us Nera. Just a moment dearheart." The water god makes a sweeping gesture across the ice, conjuring a set of arrows all aimed at several landings on the Tria coast. "Just telling your team about what support they can expect."

"You've mobilized the towers?"

"Yes. They'll attack from the sea where possible. I'm also slowing the currents on the rivers, so that your troops can more easily ford them. But it's good that you're here. We have some other matters that require our attention."

"Oh? And what's more important than the war in which we are currently an active participant?"

"Raja dearheart?"

The masked woman bows quickly. One of the masks floating about her shudders, before a ghostly image of a person appears from the mask. It takes a moment before Nerassus recognizes him as one of the commander of the garrison just outside Al'Sinai. "Greetings Master Nerassus. I bring news from the front. Several of the smaller scout camps have been found massacred to a man."

"What? How?"

"Unknown. We have spotted some peculiar events, such as the appearance of a massive bird made of fire, but their relation is unknown."

"A massive... Mika?"

"Wasn't me this time." Mika gives a cheeky grin.

"It's the Yithal."

"What? Like, those tribal forest tribes worshipping Ymon-Thal?" Mika quirks her head curiously. "How do they massacre camps without losses?"

"That's the Yith." Robin taps his chin thoughtfully.

"Uh yeah, that's what I just said. That don't answer my question."

"Hrm?" Robin looks towards Mika. "No, I'm saying that you're thinking about the Yith."

"Yeah, they're forest people. But just being the forest people shouldn't make them invincible in the forest."

"They aren't."

"So how do they do it then?"

"The Yithal aren't normal people."

"But you just said."

"Good grief. The Yith and the Yithal are separate beings. The Yith are a human tribe, the Yithal an entirely new species like the Celestials. You should know this Mika!"

"Oh..." Mika frowns. "Well that's confusing."

"Right. There may have been losses, but since their dead do not leave a body behind, we can't know. And frankly, it's irrelevant."

"Indeed. What *is* relevant however, is how Ymon-Thal is manifesting their power all across Tria."

"Yes..." Nerassus looks over the icy map. "It's a web of connections. It seems to have it's wellspring within the passing. Think of it like the connections Raja have with her masked ones. Except it's an equal two way connection, and everything is connected to everything else. With the exception of sentient beings. They are not immediately connected to the web."

"Peculiar." Robin rubs his chin thoughtfully. "Why would they do that?"

"I don't know. But it can be highly useful for us."

Nerassus stares at the map for a long moment, before perking up. "Of course... it's a perfect spy network."

"Animal and plant spies everywhere. The Yith can already connect to the web using a particular item called a Junction. And due to the strong spiritual existence Celestials already enjoy, I should be able to create a connection to the web that you can use."

Spoiler: Help: Ymon-Thal

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+2 Moon/+2 Justice: Petr and Nerassus create connecting points between the Web of Souls and the spiritual energy forged by the moon pearl. Natural Mon'Dai within the web are connected to it as if they are animals. Celestials can create a connection to the system as if they possessed a Junction.

"This should drastically speed up our movement through the jungle, but we still have to deal with disease and infections."

"We need more aquamancers?" Anu inquires in his deep, raspy voice.

"We need more mana. I've been attempting to purchase manacap from the steppe, but I've been unable to get a good deal. Sanctuary is our only supplier."

"Yeah. The people of the steppe are performing an interesting experiment. One that is nearing fruition. I'm sure the price and availability of Manacap will normalize before long. Until then, we should offer what help we can I should think."

Spoiler: Help: Dulnori

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+2 Healing: When Enota shares energy with someone, that energy can be focused to close their wounds, just like natural aquamancy.
+2 Moon: Enota may manifest a Mon'Dai servant to help out with practical matters that require hands and manual dexterity.
+2 Justice: When Enota links with someone, the two can share vitality. Enota can take their wounds into themselves, and vice versa.
-2 Flesh: Manipulating Flesh is still difficult. Enota can only share vitality with a living person of flesh and blood if the two physically touch one another.

"Unfortunately, we don't have time to wait for the manacap supply to normalize. We'll just have to hope we have enough Icewater lilies to bridge the gap."

"Ah, that reminds me." Maria looks down at her hands, twiddling them nervously for a moment. "I should've told you earlier, but you remember the peculiar strike force that hit Foementer Way? We don't know much about them yet, but I think they're friendly. They've sent us several crates of Icewater lilies to support the war effort."

"Hrm. Well that's good. I still want some eyes on the place, but I'm confident they won't backstab us during this fight. One less problem... so mother. I guess you have one more problem to give me?"

"It's only as big a problem as you make it. Remember Cheek?"

"Yes." Nerassus notices the quizzical expression on Robin and Maria's faces. "He used to be a student at University. Set out to travel to find the body of Grawissen. It's a long story."

"He helped Grawissen regain power. And for that, Grawissen is giving Cheek the status of a demigod."

"Hrm..." Nerassus taps his chin thoughtfully. "He never came back to finish his education..."

Mika can't help but chuckle loudly. "So the chosen champion of the God of Knowledge is an oafish dropout."

"Mika! He has probably grown in the past centuries. And either way, we need all the help we can get. If he is going to lead the troops of Grawissen, then I want him well equipped for the job."

Spoiler: Help: Grawissen

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+2 Justice: Nerassus will prepare a curriculum of war, tactics, strategy and logistics, the role of a general and a general's duties towards his men.
+2 Moon: Cheek is given the ability to conjure and fire spirit blasts such as those used by Celestials.
+2 Water: Cheek is given the ability to breathe water.

"Right. Anything else that needs doing?"

"Besides Su'ule making more children..."

Spoiler: Help: Su'ule

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+2 Water/+2 Healing: Su'ule's dragons are given the gift of hibernation. Dragons can enter a deep, healing sleep. While they sleep they use energy efficiently, allowing them to sleep for decades, or even centuries, when food is scarce.

"There is one thing. One thing you may have sensed already."

Nerassus purses his lips, staring ahead thoughtfully as he extends his awareness outwards for a moment, before wincing visibly as if struck. "So much flesh."

"I can't determine if they're friend or foe yet. They're not aligned with the tyrant and his forces, but the way they act... they may very well be part of the curse." Petr tsks softly. "I'll be careful with my blessings. But I will bless them. For now."

Spoiler: Reaction: Ka'al Russ

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+2 Healing: The constant shifting of flesh gives them the ability to reattach lost extremities as long as they're still alive.
-2 Justice/+2 Flesh: Nerassus attempts at manipulating these bodies fall flat, as their flesh-flowing existence is anathema to his abilities.

[Batcathat]

The Golden Wastes

It was too soon to act directly against the Tyrant, but not to... influence things a little.

Spoiler: Hinder the Tyrant

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Everyone fighting for the Tyrant in the affected area is weakened in both body (- 2 Body) and mind (- 2 Soul) in subtle ways. Feeling tired, feeling insecure, doubting their cause. Orders from their leaders and talk among the soldiers is a little more likely to be misinterpreted (- 1 Connection), leading to conflicts in the ranks. For every step, it is as if their very life (- 2 Life) is sucked out of them and people more easily die (- 2 Death) from wounds or accidents they should have been able to recover from. Accidents that are also a little more common as everyone seems just a little clumsier (- 1 Balance).

Total bonus: -10

***

Thal-Verys and Ymon-Desha, The Passing

"Hey, didn't we save this guy's life once?"

Thal-Verys thought for a moment, during her long life she had saved – and taken – quite a few lives. "Yes. We slew a king."

"Huh, I hope he's better at taking care of himself now if he's going to be one of us."

"I died by the spear before all of this." Thal-Verys nodded towards the broken armor Ymon-Desha still wore, with its prominent hole in the front. "As did you."

Ymon-Desha nodded. "Fair enough." She paused. "Still... we better make sure."

Spoiler: Help for Grawissen

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Cheek is given the ability to subconsciously sense the souls (+ 2 Soul) of those around him and if anyone attempts to hurt him, his body (+ 2 Body) will automatically react to evade or retaliate, even if Cheek himself doesn't realize the danger, is sleeping or otherwise unable.

***

"Is that a thing or a person?" Ymon-Desha asked as she sensed Dulnori's – or was it his people's? – new creation. "Like... whatshisname... Davy, maybe?"

"No. Not like Davy." Thal-Verys narrowed her eyes in thought. "There is a soul in there, I believe."

Spoiler: Help for Dulnori

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+ 2 Soul: As another expression of his connection to others, Enota can let his soul touch another's. This is a rather intense experience for both parties as they feel everything the other is at their core. It doesn't mean they learn everything about each other but rather that they get a sense of who the other person is and what they are feeling deep down.

[Xenopax]

A letter to the Na'uele

The letter would have appeared on the Commanders desk, weighed down with a carved porcelain mask and a scroll of Canvas map of the region. The guards around his tent swore they hadn't seen anyone go in or go out.

---

Greetings dear friend.

We have collected information for you about nearby enemy encampments. At midnight tomorrow, we will be leaving the camps with a third of the Tyrants human fighting forces. That would be the ideal time for you to Attack with your forces. If you see any men or anything with more than four limbs lifting a bag in the forest, do not try to interact without wearing the attached mask. We will take you as an enemy.

In addition, forward the following to your Masters please? Ka'al Russ has a deal. Keep what you take, no contention. Any city we take is ours, any city you take is yours. If you send your soldiers to negotiate, send them with proof that they aren't Tyrant Loyalists. Otherwise, their safety is forfeit. If you'd like us to assist you further in the attack or ask any questions, write a letter and leave it in your tent. Don't come back for atleast an hour, and then you'll have your reply.

Praise be the Eternal Shifter
One of the Nameless

---

Spoiler

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Giving aid to Petyr/Nerassus

Nameless infiltrate enemy camps, dropping a map of a few at Na'uele's tent. Mortal followers of the Tyrant are dragged off at night, and either converted to Fleshy monsters (+2 flesh) which are taken back to join the Black Eyed One's armies, More Nameless (+1 Insanity).


Also random other stuff:

Giving Aid to Dulnori

His Demi-god forms will change depending on it's audience, and what they perceive to be more effective for it's intended purpose (+2 Change).

Spending an Instant action to get my Demi-god to begin crossing over to the Boa Jungle.

[The JoJo]

Borderlands, Kanweland

The warriors of northern Bechauland were nothing if battle-weary. Years of repeated incursions by Tyrant forces from the mountains had ground down their resolve until it was a fine dust, leaving a growing sense of inevitability. They hadn't the strength to mount a full counter-invasion, so it was only a matter of time until their defences were overwhelmed.

The first sign was a shower of shooting stars, heralding an alignment of the stars that hadn't been seen in centuries. Then, the news came, delivered by a breathless ravenfolk messenger. Spirits had arisen along the eastern coast, dispatching Tyrant soldiers with a ruthless efficiency. Another unknown force had landed on the western coast, trapping the Empire in a continent-wide pincer movement. A new sense of hope blossomed among the weary warriors. Now was the time to fight back.

Spoiler: Help!

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Assist Petr's assault on the Tyrant Empire with +2 People of the Wing. Emboldened, the forces in Bechauland will push their foes back across the Greater Orchistal mountains and into the waiting arms of the Mon'Dai, setting up defensive stations across the mountain chain. Those of Malucca will meanwhile push north into Thorgan, occupying the area.

Spoiler: Help!

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Assist Ymol-Thal in creating the Web of Souls with:

+1 Reproduction: Avestra's divine power will ensure that, despite the granted abilities, the predator and prey populations of Tria will strive to remain balanced as before.

+2 Nature: Treewhisperers will, with their ability to communicate with trees and birds, be able to indirectly access the Web of Souls on an animal and plant level, with the organism they are accessing it through acting as a proxy. The other parts of the network such as those involving the Passing will be off-limits to them, however.

Spoiler: Help!

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Assist Graw to make Cheek into a demigod with +2 Nature and +2 Birds. He will be a talented treewhisperer and the creatures of the Endless Forests will instinctively come to his aid as long as he is within its boundaries.

Spoiler: Help!

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Assist Ka'al Russ to create the Faceless with:

+2 Birds: The Faceless will have a deeply instilled respect for avians of any kind and a cultural tradition of making offerings to them on certain holy days.

-2 Primeval: Their knowledge of science is obscure to the nature goddess, so the Faceless will find themselves much more at home in urban environments than in the wild.

Spoiler: Hinder!

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Hinder the Tyrant invasion with +2 Nature and +2 Birds. The invading armies will find nature seemingly fighting them at every moment -- storms will disrupt their fleet, their food supplies will be infested by pests and seagulls will pick opportune moments to drop excrement on the death-o-bots, obscuring their vision.

[Maryring]

The Golden Parrot

Swiftpaw yawns loudly as yet another wanna be pirate with more strings on their ukulele than fingers step up on the stage. A few more sour notes, followed by loud jeering from the crowd. Swift himself can't be bothered to do more than grimace slightly. "Arrange a contest" Dew said. "It'll draw attention! And a good bard always livens up the place." Just such a shame that the reward money seems to have drawn in every mediocre and bad bard on the whole island.

"Sir?" A young pygmy, probably no more than fourteen, lightly taps on Swift's shoulder for attention. Explains his lack of decorum. "I was told to inform you that... uh... that everything is ready? Oh I mean, everyone. Everyone is ready."

"Finally. As you were kid." He weaves through the crowd, making his way to his office. Once in there he tugs on a wall sconce, twists a bookshelf, and finally pushes a button hidden within another bookshelf. All the traps thus disarmed, he makes his way into the cellar. Dug out by hand, with uneven stone surfaces that hide false walls. Behind one is his private treasure stash, unknown even to the other Celestials that are sitting around the central firepit. Not that the pit itself has been used in a long time. Light is supplied by a chandelier of enchanted glowstone. These days it serves as the sole reminder of when Swift was just a brat himself. Of huddling close to the fire, no one to rely on but himself. A life of...

"Swift?" The cheerful voice snaps Swift out of his reverie. Yuu'okina waves him over to sit beside him. "Everything okay boss? You were zoning out a bit."

"Yeah, yeah I'm good." He stretches out on the log. The seats on it have been carved and polished into the log itself. Not exactly luxurious, but it keeps the crew from lingering longer than they should.

"I am glad." Dao Ze Min mumbles into her dirty, ragged clothes, offering Swift a quick glance before turning to focus on the ground. "Sorry."

"What for Min?"

"... lost the dagger you gave me..."

"Oh." Swift shrugs. "I'll see about getting you a new one later, but for now." Swift reaches into one of his pockets and carefully pulls the Blood Knife out. One hand firmly grasping the hilt, the other balancing the pristine white edge on the palm. "Behold. The item that is going to take us from pieces to players in this game of gods."

The others oooh in excitement as they lean forward. The edge gleams dangerously in the light, sending a soft chill down their spine. "This is the legendary Blood Fang?"

"The one and only." Swift smirks as he leans back.

"Hrm... but how exactly is this thing going to "take us from pieces to players" as it were?" Lucas leans back on his bench, arms crossed over his chest.

"Patience." Swift turns to Yuu. "You got everything you need right?"

"Yup. Researching the spell was difficult, but I made it work."

Swift grins, a grin that goes even wider when he sees Lucas roll his eyes at the theatre. "Then take the knife and wow our friend won't you?"

Yuu takes the knife gently in her hands. Two vines grow up from the ground and wrap about the hilt of the dagger, while her hands hover on either side of the artifact. She takes a deep breath as several tiny pinpricks of light begin to appear, swirling around the knife. Faster and faster, more and more, until the pinpricks of light form a mini astrolabe hovering around the knife. "Heh... im... impressed?" Yuu smirks through heavy breathing. "Takes... a lot. But... Yuu's portable... astrolabe. For all your... on the go... divinations."

"I had Yuu contact her old teachers back on Sanctuary for this. It's a spell that allows us to do accurate, world-sweeping divinations here, far away from the prying eyes of the gods."

Lucas lets out a soft whistle. "Impressive. But, world-sweeping? Why do you want to scan the whole world? If we're looking for ships to hit, creating a scan for a bunch of them just seems like a waste of energy and mana."

"You're thinking too small Lucas. Think. Why did we need to scan the whole world? Why did we need the dagger? We're not talking about stealing a shipload of mammoth tusks. We're challenging the gods themselves!" Swift brushes a finger gently against the exterior of the globe. It shimmers for a moment, before the dagger grows with a soft red light, and the globe displays an image of Foementer Way. "Right now, Nerassus and his University goons are fighting the tyrant on Tria. Yuu's astrology spell informed us of that. And the dagger allowed us to divert some of the divine energy Nerassus used to organize the fight. You remember those weird little critters that helped us in the battle for Foementer Way?"

"They were kinda cute... I mean yes." Min clutches her head up against her chin.

"Very." Swift gives her an encouraging pat on the shoulder. "But more importantly. By wielding the dagger, I could temporarily steal control of them, directing them into supporting our take over of Foementer. Not much I admit. They were already set to fight the tyrant after all. But this dagger. It's an artifact. It taps into the divine power the gods use. And with practice, we can have an effect on the actions of the gods themselves!"

"And that's what my spell... will help us with. Hah. It's stabilized. Hope you don't need other spells today."

"So how does it work?" Leiton mumbles into his cup of fermented milk.

"It's actually surprisingly intuitive. You know how you channel energy to fly or conjure a spirit blast? It's basically that, but you direct your energy into the dagger. The dagger is attuned to the metaphysical concept of blood, and it will use that connection to create changes. With it, you can do most anything as long as it's related to blood in some way. It's... well. You'll all get a shot at it soon enough. It's something you just gotta experience."

"And you use Yuu's spell to sense big changes, to know when the gods do stuff?"

"Bingo! Yuu? Can you find us something to test?"

Without a word, Yuu shifts her hands slightly. The globe of light twists and flickers, before focusing on the visage of a peculiar flame in an even more peculiar iron frame. "Found... something big. Remember that... steppe project we learned of a while back?"

"The third god..." Lucas nibbles his lips. "Are we going to interfere?"

"Would you like to try?" Swift grins wickedly, planting his hand on Lucas's. "Just reach out and grab the dagger."

"Nghn... I... no. Gods, would I want to reach in and drive that thing berserk. But it has a name no? It... won't be fair to it. To make it enact my revenge."

Swift nods, and the room falls quiet for a moment. Everyone looks at each other, all waiting for someone to reach out and grab the dagger. "Hrm. I guess I'll go first then." Yuu's hand reaches into the globe and clenches firmly around the dagger.

Spoiler: Blood Help: Dulnori

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+2 Blood: By bloom, growth and blood, Yuu'okina gives Enota a variant of a green thumb. With a touch, Enota can drain blood from a mortal, and use that blood to fuel the growth of plants.

"ngh... ghu." Yuu releases her grip, shaking her hand with a thoughtful frown. "I... tried togive him a touch of my own powers but... something felt wrong."

"It's a dangerous artifact. And Enota isn't a normal living person. Doesn't surprise me that you had a difficult time with it." Swift tsks softly. "We'll see how it plays out. But you felt the connection right?"

"Yeah... yeah we'll see how it ends up. Let's see what else I can find."

Once more the globe shifts, this time drawing attention to the far north, where Su'ule brings her new children into the world. "Aww. Babies."

"Baby monsters." Lucas corrects. "Doesn't surprise me. If there's any god that creates without care or compassion, it's the witch queen of monsters." Lucas focuses his attention on Swift. "Could we use this dagger to destroy them somehow?"

"No. We could try, but it's like throwing pebbles at guards. We could possibly introduce a weakness though."

"At least, judging from what my spell is picking up, they seem inherently hostile towards the Tyrant." Lucas turns to Yuu. "My point is. We shouldn't try to destroy them. They'll be a huge help against the tyrant."

"Until the tyrant is gone, and they turn their attention towards us. Sure, we're half a world away but."

"Uh. I have... I mean, maybe an.... idea..." All turn to look towards Min. "I mean... if it's... okay... for me to touch the dagger."

"It's a divine artifact." Swift chuckles. "And I was willing to let Lucas touch the thing. Go ahead."

"Ah good. Because... I mean. We just gotta make them... not worse at fighting the tyrant... but worse at hurting the rest of us right? So..."

Spoiler: Blood Hinder: Su'ule

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-2 Blood: Dao Ze Min curses the draconic blood with her pain of destitution and poverty. Dragons will always covet material wealth. Land. Gold. Art. They crave that which has value. And yet, in their grasp, gold flows like sand. Dragons are wasteful, extravagant creatures who wouldn't know the meaning of frugality if it bit them in the nose.

"I... made it so that... when there's no one to fight. They should be too busy chasing money to... you know, hurt us." Min tugs her knees up against her chin again, her mumbling unintelligble as she chews on her torn up thin jacket.

"Hrm. That might have been a bad idea. After all, I've plenty of plans on making us all wealthy. Might make us a target for them... eh. We'll cross that bridge when we come to it." Swift gives Yuu another nod, this time conjuring up an image of Cheek.

"I recognize that guy." Lucas clenches his fist. "Travelled around with Grawissen in mortal guise the past age. His journey was required reading. Wouldn't have bothered otherwise."

"Why not?"

"The guy is the epitome of having opportunity handed to him on a silver platter. He is only famous because his putzing about happened to be done with a mortal avatar of Grawissen. If it wasn't for that, the guy would've been lost to history."

Yuu gauges the anger in Lucas's eyes, before slowly adding. "Looks like he is being ascended to a demigod."

"Of course he is! Some people have all the luck." Lucas reaches in, clenching the dagger hard. "Well, let's see how his luck fares against this!"

Spoiler: Blood Hinder: Grawissen

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-2 Blood: By Lucas Marshthorn's destructive wrath, Cheek is given a small taste of what it feels like to have everything crumble in your hand. Any weapon, designed or makeshift, utilized by Cheek, will break whenever it strikes a blood-bearing being.

Lucas slumps down on his seat, hands resting heavily on the wooden bench for just a bit too long. The wood disintegrates beneath his touch, and he lands heavily on the ground. "Ow. orry Swift."

Swift hides a grin behind his paw. "No worries. I think we could all do with a little levity. Yuu, are there other big things we can react to?"

"Moment." The globe spins much quicker this time, beads of sweat appearing on Yuu's forehead. "Hmm.. ah... ahah... hahhh... okay. I've got things. There's that web over Tria we talked about, and Xinnies establishing his claim on the islands."

"Yeah, but I wanna handle that myself. Anything for Leiton or Jeanne?"

"Ah... well the tyrant is attacking the giants, and... it seems there's a new divinity. The signature isn't anything like any of the gods of history. It seems to be creating some kind of... fleshy monstrosities?"

"That." Leiton reaches out for the dagger. "Sounds like something I should handle."

Spoiler: Blood Hinder: Ka'al Russ

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-2 Blood: Leiton Cortez calls on disease, and it respons. In their constant mutation, they bring along a virus. The blood of the faceless has a unique strain of viral hemorrhagic fever. The virus thrives within changes. Major transformations risks a bloom of the bloody disease.

"That just leaves Jeanne." Swiftpaw looks over at the small, human-like woman. She is playing with a long piece of string, weaving it between her fingers to create all sorts of weird knots.

"Are you sure?" Yuu murmurs thoughtfully. "Who knows what the results might be."

"Look. Jeanne may be..." Swift feels the words dying in his mouth. He looks back to Jeanne. She hasn't moved from her spot. She seems still intent on playing with her string. "Look. We're Celestials. If we keep treating her like a retard, she is never going to get better."

"There's a vast gulf between being utterly incapable and being tasked with using a divine artifact to interject in a war!" Yuu shoots back.

"And what else do you think Jeanne could help with?" Lucas kicks at nothing in particular.

"Does she have to do anything?"

"Listen." Leiton claps his hands to grab the group's attention. "Why don't we ask her? She is part of our band. The least we can do is talk to her properly. I know I wouldn't like it if people talked over my head like this."

Yuu grumbles softly, but offers no response. After a few more moments of awkward silence, Min slinks over to Jeanne. She plants a hand gently on the smaller Celestial's shoulder, causing Jeanne to look up with her jet-black eyes. "hi... I mean..." "Hi Jeanne. What are you doing?"

"Art." The girl responds simply, though her eye shine with warmth. "It's a... a present."

"How nice. Jeanne. Did you hear and understand what we were just talking about?"

Jeanne goes silent, her fingers twisting about the string until her thumbs are both tied together. "That I'm different. And that you guys are gonna do big things. And that I should do things."

"Only if you want to." Min gives Jeanne a hug from behind. "The tyrant is a bad man. He has hurt a lot of people. And he is going to hurt a lot of people."

"I hurt a lot of people." Jeanne mumbles back. "I only do that."

There's another long moment of silence, before Min finally continues once more. "And it's not fair of us to ask you to hurt more people. But... if you use the dagger, you can hurt the Tyrant. And if you do that, you can stop him from hurting others who haven't done anything wrong."

"Well about that." Lucas begins to mumble, but a sharp elbow from Swift shuts him up.

"Mmm..." Jeanne continues to fiddle about with the thread in her hands, before finally folding her arms together. "Okay. I'll try."

Min nods as Yuu offers the dagger up to Jeanne. The small Celestial clutches the dagger tightly in her grip, and immediately the air becomes thick and heavy, with a sickening sense of something tearing at ones very soul.

Spoiler: Blood Hinder: Tyrant

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-2 Blood: Jeanne invites death. The song of the passing sings in the blood. Bloodcasters invading the Promised Land will find that whenever they draw on their foul magic, the song of the passing will invite them to die.

Even strong as they are, the invitation to the passing is still a sickening sensation for the group. After Jeanne finishes her channel they all spend several minutes just recovering from the ausea and despair. Once she finally feels comfortable enough to move, Min gives Jeanne another gentle hug. "You did good." She brushes the dark hair from Jeanne's face and leans in, planting a tender kiss on the surgical scar upon Jeanne's forehead. "Next time, I'm sure you'll do even better."

"Hrf... I don't know about you guys but... I feel like maybe we should call the meeting for now. I'll tend to the final two tasks on my own later."

"Sure Swift." Lucas yawns and stretches his arms. "This has been interesting. Looking forward to playing more with that dagger."

"Yeah. We'll see you around." Leiton, Lucas, Min and Jeanne all walk towards one of the many secret exits that lead out of the safehouse, leaving Yuu and Swift to pack away the dagger.

"I think the experiment went well, don't you?"

"Hrmf." Yuu shakes her head. "Too early to say. Besides, we have potentially drawn the ire of the gods. Aren't you worried about retribution?"

"A little. Which is why I wanted to handle the web and Xinnies myself. I want the gods to be aware, I want them to know that we are players, and not pawns. Only then can we claim that which we deserve."

Spoiler: Blood Hinder: Ymon-Thal

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-2 Blood: Celestial spirit can connect to the Web of Souls. Celestial Blood can confound the web of souls. Swiftpaw steals the truth from the web, permitting Celestials to steal the presence of others in the web, using the web to masquerade as others. This can only be done with a living body. One cannot impersonate the dead.

Spoiler: Blood Help: Xinnies

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+2 Blood: The Blood of Life strengthens Xinnies merciful protection. While on the five islands, Swiftpaw and his crew are protected from incidental retribution, divine or mortal.

[DarthArminius]

The Northern Monastery, Counsel-Grawissen (Ap 100)
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SOOHlZ2v_cU

“HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! That is so...Violin...” Graw laughed as he sat at a table with Cheek.

“Yeah and that was only the most insane thing she did that week.” Cheek commented before taking a chunk of water. Graw then stopped himself and turn towards one of the windows. Cheek looked up at his old buddy. “So I assume you want to go out kick the **** out of that ******* Tyrant?”

“...Yes…” Graw then got up from his seat. “...it has been fun… But I have a duty… To stop… This mad man…” he then started walk out.

“Wait!” Cheek yelled as he stumbled closer. “I want to fight with you!” Graw turned towards Cheek. “I’ve been wanting to claw that bastard’s eyes out, come on give me a chance just like old times sake.”

Graw smiled. “...I should have… Expected… As much…” as he said that Cheek’s body started to glow.

Spoiler: action

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“I Grawissen, ask you for your blessing. help me give strength to a mortal to battle against Tyrants wrath.”
18 AP/14 DC Make Cheek a demigod of Command +2. Cheek will be brought back to life as a demigod and fight alongside those of the Stricken Lands to help free them from tyrants wrath and lead the people of the endless forests to victory

+2 knowledge: Cheek will be a military genius as he commands his forces against in the war effort tyrants evil
+2 mining: the suit of armor and weaponry he has will be crafted from the most viable materials of the earth themselves a golden shining armor that can block a cannon shot or a mighty fireball without so much of a scratch and a blade that can cut through mountains
+2 architecture: In the endless forest they will be a mighty castle which will be the center of Cheeks war effort against Tyrant
+1 singing:he will have a mighty battle theme that will be played by his forces that will shake his enemies to their very core.
+1 writing: his military effort will have an underground messaging system allowing them to be one step ahead of the enemy
+1 humility: Cheek will understand that he has to listen to others concerns, taking their suggestions and not let his pride or anger the side his sstrategies

Cheek:

+1 Strength: Cheek will discover the blessing of Su'ule in that he is naturally VERY strong.
+2 Sorcery: Like Rosalin, Cheek will have the power to Su'ule Scream, unleashing a very powerful sonic blast that can destroy much.
+2 Destruction: Because Schirach loves the mortals, she gifts Cheek with the blessing of great curiosity, and genius in the arts of Demolition. Also, When using the Su'ule Scream, Cheek is exceptionally potent at it.

Su'ule
"Here is yet another child among the gods. He will have great strength, and the power to scream with my voice. Use these gifts well."

[flyinglemur]

What have you done! Dulnori was evidently furious, his eyes suddenly changed into a deep red.

“It was.. was… for the war effort.” Sagran replied trembling.

What war? and at that moment his divine senses returned to him, and he felt the familiar sound of foreign voices, one in particular felt like a drill going through his ears.

You’re lucky demons are so annoying. With that the rhinoceros dissolved into the whirlwind and began to work.

For Tyrant:
An invasion of Axian land, clearly this creature has no knowledge of history or comprehension of who I am. I know you can hear me demon of darkness. Savor your victory, for I will you soon show you what glory really means.

Spoiler: Hinder:

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-2 fortune: The invaders are machines, and as such are complex systems that require everything to work in perfect order. Dulnori introduces glitches and malfunctions into those systems, invading death bots will see parts fail, rocks will poke holes in their wheels, weapons will misfire etc. What rotten luck.
-2 ambition: Dulnori gives the defenders mental strength. No matter the direness of the situation, or the severity of the war, they will not give up hope. They will strive to reclaim what is lost.
-1 dream: Dulnori guarantees good dreams for the soldiers. Even decades from now the veterans will not have nightmares of this time.
-1 sailing: Dulnori speeds up the boats taking soldiers to the front line, and helping civilians escape.
-1 symbiosis: For as long as the invasion continues, gnats and flies will gain the power to chew on death bot metal as though they were parasitizing human flesh.

For Xinnies:
Here was something very interesting, a new divine signature, it was the first time Dulnori had felt that. Welcome to the world Xinnies. I appreciate your understanding that gods are just kings.

Spoiler: Help:

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+2 fortune: For this coronation everything goes right. The messengers of Xinnies will never have accidents that make them look careless, or tongue slips that make them sound foolish.
+2 ambition: For the high goal of establishing a new nation. This is not unnoticed by the world, golden dragons will arrive at the isles to witness this founding, and extend diplomacy.
+1 dream: Pleasant dreams all around for the people’s. This time will be remembered as a happy one.
+1 sailing: To strengthen the nation’s ship building and make passage between the islands easy.

For Petr:
Already a vast war was being fought in foreign lands. Taste glory my friend.

Spoiler: Help:

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+2 fortune: Dulnori prevents surprise attacks on Petr aligned forces in a streak of seeming coincidence. A small animal whose chittering leads a captain to wake up early and notice the coming attackers, a twig snaps beneath an enemy’s foot altering soldiers in the woods that they’re being followed etc.
+2 ambition: Petr’s forces will surge forth to achieve grand victory, emboldened and courageous, as the glory of participating in this historic event quashes any lingering fears and doubts.
+1 dream: Same blessing as with Axian forces. No PTSD is happening on Dulnori’s watch.
+1 sailing: Dulnori strengthens the river boats needed to push into the continent.
+1 symbiosis: Dulnori dulls parasitism, preventing Petr’s troops from being harassed by mosquitos and worms, thus limiting the spread of tropical illness.

For Graw:

Spoiler: Help:

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+1 sailing: Cheek’s presence on a ship ensures it will never lose it’s course.
+1 symbiosis: For some strange reason, marsupials really like him. Dulnori is still getting the hang of this one.
+1 dream: Good dreams for those who fought under his command. Once again, no flashback nightmares, of their time in war they shall dream only of glory and not of pain.
+2 fortune: omens from games, natch.

For Su’ule:

Spoiler: Help:

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+2 fortune: Their loss is another’s gain. Though they may spend their money frivolously, that heavy spending will contribute to their local economies and give a lot of needy people a lucky break.
+1 sailing: They are far better at sailing than you would expect considering their body size and shape.

For Ymon-Thal

Spoiler: Help:

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+2 ambition: New discoveries within the web of souls shall spread rapidly, so as to more quickly give people the chance to play around with new technologies.

[Godzillarich]

Long time ago in Ostrom

“So your people are building a weapon?” MegaHorn asked as he sat on his throne looking down upon Steelwood.

“Yes Megahorn, and they are requesting assistance.” Steelwood told him as he bowed. “Will you answer the royalties please?”
Megahorn got down from his throne and walked towards Graw’s body. He then pulled out a bottom rip. “Take this as a gift for the royalty. I hope this strengthens our alliance.”

Spoiler: action

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help in the creation of Enota using one of Graw
+2 Knowledge: he will be an expert in his studies and always want to learn more:

____

Spoiler: action

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Petr: Cleanse the Tria coast
+2 knowledge: These little critters will know all of their enemy secrets and plan accordingly.
+2 mining: they will be master burrowers, digging tunnels under their enemies and doing surprise attacks.
_
Su'ule: Create A Supernatural Race, Blackhorn
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+2 architecture: there will be master builders, the buildings will have complex systems that simply amazes those who see them.

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Ymon-Thal: Web of Souls

+2 mining and +2 architecture: the inanimate material itself will also be imbued with the web of souls. Making those imbued with the web familiar with the area.

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Xinnies and Ka'al Rus

These energies were unfamiliar to Graw, he will have to investigate these two very soon.

[DarthArminius]

17 years ago- The Forging

Enota
“Primary instruction: Seek glory honorably.”

Help Enota:

+ 1 Metamorphosis: Enota would have the ability to shape shift into Humanoid shapes at will.
+ 1 Birth : Enota would have the ability to make intelligent, self aware constructs with souls.

[HalfTangible]

Spoiler: Help Ka'al

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+1 Adaptation: The changes that their flesh undergoes will - unless the Faceless consciously chooses otherwise - naturally adapt to suit their surroundings and situation. In a cold enviornment their body will change to preserve heat, in one without food their metabolism will slow, etc etc.

+2 Trickery: The Faceless have an innate understanding of how to manipulate others as easily as their flesh.

+1 Beauty: The Faceless' changes (unless consciously chosen otherwise) are smooth and pleasing to witness. They find it easier to take forms that are pleasing to the eye.

+2 Love: The Faceless adore family and romance.

[Godzillarich]

Ymon-Thal (100 AP)

(1d20+27)[42]

Petr (120 AP)

(1d20+27)[28]

Su'ule (100 AP)

(1d20+21)[26]

Avestra (100 AP)[/b]

(1d20+3)[20]

Grawissen (100 AP)

(1d20+30)[37]

Dulnori (100 AP)

(1d20+17)[34]

Ka'al Russ (100 AP)

(1d20+18)[37]

Melwas (100 AP)

(1d20+8)[13]

Kalani (100 AP)

(1d20+14)[23]

[b]Xeema (100 AP)[b]

(1d20+7)[22]

Xinnies (100 AP)

(1d20+18)[36]

[Godzillarich]

Ymon-Thal (80 AP) success: Web of Souls links us all.

Petr (102 AP) success: Mon'Dai begin their adorable murder of tyrants forces

Su'ule (80 AP) success: The Blackhorn Dragons are born on to this mortal plane.

Avestra (92 AP)success : a terrible disease start spreading, while it was mainly created to mess with tyrants forces, it starts spreading rapidly until it’s on every part of the globe.

Grawissen (82 AP) success : Cheek has become a demigod with +2 command and -2 aggression. He will fight for the people of the Endless Forest.

Dulnori (82 AP) success : The Enota +2 Energy and -2 coldness

Ka'al Russ (80 AP) success The Faceless have been ground up into existence.

Melwas (88 AP) success Frostreach Feylthal is now under Melwas influence.

Kalani (86 AP) success When Tyrant read Kalani letter his eyes lit up enjoyment, finally his greatest heart desire achieved.

Xeema (94 AP) success slowly the Cult of Xeema is born.

Xinnies (82 AP)success after hundreds of years Xinnies will finally rebuild his kingdom.

Tyrant his mechanical forces conquer Muij, and the Golden Wastes but resistance still fights.

Tyant, 285 to 215.a major blow for control of Tria and the set back that happened along the invasion, additionally them being pushed out of the pirate islands and now Cheek leading the charge on the shook and lands. The invincible tyrant is starting to crack

[Godzillarich]

The old sacrifice tree in Tria

A few of tyrants men gathered around the area, the disease plaguing the area certainly did not help with the morale of the troops. Suddenly before beneath the tree started to leak blood. slowly a figure, tyrant emerged from the ground. ”What a beautiful tree.” tyrant mumbled as he touched the tree. ” Your anger, your hate, that’s so like you my old friend. Burn for being foolish enough to use the god’s foul magic. the tree started to glow in a reddish light. ”let that anger help me with some pest control.

Spoiler: action

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Create a collection of lesser magical minions, The Burning Hatred. +215

Fiery mosquito-like creatures created from the hatred of a corrupt fire mage who betrayed his kin for power but was eventually found out and executed. They have the ability to change their size, from the size of a mosquito to as large as an elephant. These beings have two main functions, one to devour creatures and creations of the gods, mainly minions races to help the war effort, and grow in power because of it. They also have another sinister purpose. The present has enhanced prejudice and hatred, mainly in humans. They try to convince the normal human races to betray their country and join tyrants forces. In turn, they also manipulate the nonhuman races to become more prejudiced against humans to help convince those humans to join tyrant. They also have the power to heavily limit the powers of God creatures making them easier prey.

Tyrant then turned away from the tree, ”That should hopefully help you out, now then I have a date to get to. and with that, he disappeared into the ground again.

[Godzillarich]

Chobe

The empty catacombs of the once-thriving city of Chobe. A green flash admitted from the area, there stood Graw. the place seemed completely abandoned, buildings destroyed, bones of the slain everywhere. ”All of it…gone” Graw thought to himself as he came upon the tree he saw when he last visited the city so many centuries ago, now burnt to a crisp. Graw touched the tree. ”Once… So beautiful...” he then sunk his head. ”...I have failed you...I let you rot...and now...”

(Crack)

Graw turned his head towards the sound of a rock falling down. He saw a figure he couldn’t make out quickly ducked into a building. ”Wait!” the bone God yelled as he followed. Naturally, the door to the building could not fit him. Graw closed his eyes as he started to morph, changing into a Choblin form. He then cautiously walked in.

____

Juniper Planes

“What are you doing here Robert?” Rosebush asked coldly as she stared at the raccoon man.

Robert turned towards the pesky hippie woman who listened to flowers. “Getting materials for the war effort.” He plainly told her before turning back to his men who were cutting down a bunch of the trees.

“You mean lining your own pocket and using the war as an excuse?” Rosebush said angrily as she turned the raccoon back around.

“DON’T TOUCH ME YOU APE!” Robert snapped back as he pulled out a blade. Rosebush in turn readied her staff.

Just then Digment emerged from the ground. “Hey guys”

“WHAT!” both of them yelled out as they looked down upon the little dinosaur.”

“So I am interrupting something but Megahorn is holding a special meeting,” Digment said as sweat came down his face. “...so I interrupted you two but he wants at the capital yesterday.”

Robert and Rosebush both looked back at each other with contempt. “You monkeys will hand over this land soon enough.” Robert then chief his sword. “ Robert then started walking away, your time will come.”

Rosebush lowered her staff and then looked back at Digment. “I’m sorry about that, dealing with Robert is a handful.”

“Don’t worry about it.” Digment responded. “Robert is a total tool. Anyway, I’ll see you at the capital.” and with that Digment appeared beneath the earth.

____

The Golden Waste

Along the Sands of the dry desert, bodies lay across the field, some human, some terror, some tongue, some giant, and some Death-O-Robots. One figure, a machine dragged its body across the sand with one arm, the rest of its limbs cut off in battle. “Requesting… Assistance… Requesting… Assistance…” The machine called out but all that heard them were the animals picking at the caucuses… or so it seems…

”Assistance?” a voice called out beneath the sand. ”I would be willing to help I but one thing what is your name?’

“We do not have a name. We just go with what Tyrant demands.” The Death-O-Robots simply replied. “I must continue to function in this war to realize Tyrant ambition

The ground beneath them started to rumble. Almost feeling like laughter ” Why do you have loyalty to this being that throws you away like trash?"

The Death-O-Robots Remain silent until replying. ” because that’s what I’m built to do…”

Just then a tentacle grab the broken-down machine. ”Let me teach you a thing or two about independence.

[Godzillarich]

The forgotten place

Graw moved around in the small cavins, the entire place had no lighting and no construction, just holes. “The safe will be made hideout?” Graw thought to himself as he continued along. Keeping his eyes open.

“AHHHHHHHHHH!” the screams of what felt like 100 voices in unison jumped out of the holes and attacked Graw.
___

Graw’s choblin body was pulled along the passageway of the cavins. Graw kept his eyes shut, making them think that he was unconscious. He could easily escape but he wanted to know the secrets of this strange place. These were not choblins or Tyrant’s goons. They were tongues, tongues he is not seen before. Eventually, they came upon a room, they threw Graw into it and close the door.

Graw opened his eyes and looked around in the darkness. He saw a bunch of small tongues emerge from the darkness “So there were still followers of Chern crawling around like maggots.”
“Like maggots!”
“Like maggots!”
“Like maggots!”
One figure said as those around him chanted beside him.

Graw was surprised by the sight of these tongues, he has never seen these types of his children before. “Who are you?” he asked.

What appeared to be the leader responded “We are the Forgotten, The Athe!”
“The Athe!”
“The Athe!”
“The Athe!”
The others chanted again.
“We defy the gods for their abandonment of us.”
“abandonment of us!”
“abandonment of us!”
“abandonment of us!”
“When we see clean water we pee in it to defile Petr beauty, when we see a flower we crush it to anger Avestra, when we see a fox we punch it to upset Alatadriel. When we see a road we destroy a road to make Kahar-Djin his way, and for that traitorous bone the demonic Graw we burn a book to make him dumber.”
“Make him dumber!”
“Make him dumber!”
“Make him dumber!”

Graw was taken aback from this. “You were abandoned?”

The chieftain looked at Graw with contempt “Yes you maggot!”
“you maggot!”
“you maggot!”
“you maggot!”
“When we were driven out by the foxes from the lush lands from the east we prayed to Alatadriel, she did not respond. When we ask for sanctuary in your city from Chern he did not respond. When we asked help form are treacherous Creator, the bone God. He did not respond.”
“did not respond!”
“did not respond!”
“did not respond!”
“We turned up back from the gods and now we defy them every day.”
“Every day.”
“Every day.”
“Every day.”

Graw sunk his head. “I did not know…” Graw thought to himself then raised his head. “...but now I do.” He turned to the chieftain. “You gave me an explanation now I will give you one.” Graw had to lie, he could not reveal who he was but he could help. “I was delivered here by the God, Grawissen to see if there were any survivors still lurking around, I assume you saw him earlier.”

The chieftain raised an eyebrow. “Well, you’re the first Choblin we have seen since another one of the treacherous gods slate them. You will find no survivors here”
“No survivors here”
“No survivors here”
“No survivors here”

Graw lowered his head again. There was nothing but silence for a good minute, he then looked at the chieftain again. “I ask you of an alliance…”

The chieftain looked at the Choblin destain. “Why should we help the ones that follow the evil gods!”
“the evil gods!”
“the evil gods!”
“the evil gods!”

“I have connections, I can promise you to land, protected and yours to rule how you please and to finally escape the darkness of these cavins. besides you must know full well that Tyrant will not rest until you are destroyed Once he find out you exist. He cannot be reasoned with. “ Graw pleaded to the chieftain. “I understand we have had a rocky history, and we have failed in our duty to protect you but all of our people history will end if we do not stop Tyrant.”

The chieftain remained in silence, he then looked at Graw. “We will attack tyrant but if we don’t get what we are promised weevil rain hell in revenge.”
“In revenge.”
“In revenge.”
“In revenge.”

“Thank you, I promise a new home for you when this is over.” Graw bow. “Now I must tell my allies about this arrangement.”

Spoiler: action

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[b]influence a city of mortals (~100k), give The Athe strength to rise from the ground, battle tyrant’s forces, and begin a golden age for them. Graw will not make them worship him. He feels like he doesn’t deserve that for failing them. They will keep their non-God worshiping ways, although they may grow less hostile to those who do worship God’s.

+2 knowledge: They will be given access to much new knowledge from the new allies in the war. They will start to open up schools once the war helping to increase the population intelligence.
+2 mining: the cities will have to halves, the surface and on the ground section both vibrant and beautiful
+2 architecture: They will learn fine architecture to build above and below ground. One of their architectural achievements will be the Spirepin. Beautiful buildings in the shape of a double-sided drill, with many beautiful carvings on it. Half of it peeking out of the surface and the other half going belowground connecting the two halves of their cities.
+1 writing: for the longest time much of them have been illiterate, Graw will make them the Masters of reading and writing that will surpass all other tongues
+1 humility: While they will still not worship the gods they will be more tolerant of those who do.

[HalfTangible]

[Chains of Love - Collab]

Kalani kept a small villa in Kalth; supposedly it was the house her legendary romance had taken place in. It was a place of bright white paint and rich furnishings, the kind of home fit for not merely a king, but a romance novel. She had a small tea room set aside for her date with the Tyrant, and she would ensure it went well. She had a number of personal servants (all she had to do was ask; mortal men were so nice!) but she was certain she'd be enough.

Now... to wait.

---

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yu1hn3w0Viw

The ground below Kalani started to shake as a stream of blood emerged from the ground. Slowly the blood formed into the tyrant, well Tyrant…

““OMG my supercool Princess is here!” he yelled in the delightfully glee, he grabbed her hand and started kissing it. ““So amazing to finally meet you! It was love at first sentence from your letter.”

Kalani blushed, a bashful smile coming to her face as she looked away. "Oh, my Tyrant, 'tis I who have awaited you... Forgive my deception, I wished to meet you so..." She turned her eyes towards him, letting them wander over the Tyrant's form. She wondered briefly how he saw her. She looked like the ideal human woman (albeit with pointed ears) to whoever looked at her, though that 'ideal' meant whatever the viewer wanted it to.

Kalani gestured to one of her servants, who was on the ground and trembling with fear. "Please, bring my Tyrant some tea. We have so much to discuss."

---

““And then when he begged me to kill him I left him alive for two more years, HAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHHA!” Tyrant said jokingly as he let out a bellowing laugh.

"I liked the part where he got to see his wife alive again. That was nice." She said, sweetly stirring her tea. "He must have loved her so."

““Yes it made blowing the bitches brains out in front of him even more hilarious.” Tyrant said as he wiped the tear from his eye. Just then a ringing noise came from Tyrant’s pocket. ““Hold on I’ll put it on voice speak.” Tyrant said as he put the orb down on the table.

“Sir we're having some unexpected trouble in the Endless Forest…” one of his commanders said to him on the phone.

“Really a minor road bump...” Tyrant said as he continued to drink his tea. ““... In case you don’t know I’m in the middle of the date.”

“But sir, our men are dying!” the commander pleaded

““Sounds like a whole lot of not my problem.” Tyrant simply responded.

Kalani looked at the orb for a moment before standing and coming around to his side of the table. She slipped down into his lap and wrapped her arms around him, a sweet smile on her face.

"My Tyrant, I am flattered you value time with me over that of your men... but do you not want to show them how little and pathetic they are?" She waved at the orb dismissively. "If this problem can be solved so easily, why not do so and rub your sub-commanders' faces in it?"

She placed a hand on his chest and brought her lips to within a breath of his. "And perhaps you'd let me watch you prove your power once again? I confess myself... excited."

Tyrant padded Kalani on the head. [COLOR="#FF0000"]”listen I have more important things to do than deal with minor nuisances…”

“Sir the commander of this force is said to be Cheek.” The commander interrupted

”“CHEEEEEEEEEEEEK!” he yelled out as he threw Kalani off. ”“THAT BITCH ASS CHICKEN IS THERE!” he grabbed his orb then turned to Kalani, ”Sorry babe but will have this date state at another time. I got to prepare some chicken. and with that he melted into the ground in the pool of blood and disappeared.

"I-" She began before the pool of blood disappeared, and her smile faltered. "Of... of course."

There was a long pause. She waited just long enough to be sure he was really gone before letting her smile die completely. She stood up and patted her bum (not that the fall had actually hurt, it was more like an itch). She couldn't follow without showing herself to be a goddess.

"That could've gone better."

Seducing the Tyrant wasn't, it seemed, impossible. Manipulating him, on the other hand, was like ramming her head against a brick wall. Immature, impatient, cruel to the point of absurdity... And though she had prodded a fair bit, she had no idea what this man even liked in a woman, beyond 'having one'. Flattery and submission were obvious given his status as the tyrant, but if that was all he wanted he'd have a massive harem by now. Looks were easy enough, she always looked like whatever the viewer would like.

"Maybe plan B was a better idea..." She mumbled, hugging herself. Plan A being 'chains of love'. Her goal with this project was very simple: make the Tyrant fall in love with her, and he would seek to please her, which would mean a more benevolent rule. Mutual affection was much better at controlling a person's behavior than simply telling them no. But with that display... she was having second thoughts. What did he want?

Honestly... she had to wonder if she'd just thrown this plan together because... because she was just that desperate and lonely.

She pouted angrily. "And who the hells is Cheek?!"

[Xenopax]

Ymon-Thal would receive a letter made from the finest vellum. It wasn't from any living being he recognized but it was vellum nonetheless. Upon the front was writing in a beautiful purple cursive, telling the God that it was for him. When opened it would read,

"Hello Cousin,

I wanted to invite you to meet me. I have a little project that requires your aid. Terms for your aid can be discussed later on, but if you're interested, please send an avatar to the highest tower in Lanka (Old Yimir). I'll be there

Ka'al Russ"

[Batcathat]

Ymon-Thal, Thal-Verys and Ymon-Desha, Lanka

With a soundless ripple in reality both of Ymon-Thal manifested at the top of the tower, moments later flanked on either side by Thal-Verys and Ymon-Desha. Though Ymon-Thal had sensed new gods acting since he awoke, an actual invite was... surprising.

"Ka'al Russ", Thal greeted, having learned from experience not to let his other self make a first impression.

[Xenopax]

The Towers top room was a mix between bedroom and laboratory. There were half made creations all over the place, things that had either bored him in the process of making them or simply just unfinished products. On the Table where Ka'al Russ was currently working, there was a gilded Faceless Mask, a trapped spark from one of the Kill-bots and a Blackhorn Dragon egg visible from the spot where the three had materialized.

Ka'al Russ was in a mortal form today and when he heard the God behind him speak, he turned around. The only thing that showed off the differences between him and a mortal, was how his eyes were entirely consumed by a deep purple that shifted to other colors as he spoke. In his hands was...something. It looked sort of like a time piece, with three shards of crystal around it. "In 63% of futures where I make my latest creation without your help, either it fails flatly or the Tyrant gets hold of it and uses it to consume Lanka before I managed to steal it back. Odds that are way too high. Cousin and Nieces, I present to you, my Timepiece," He said, holding it out to them so any one of them could inspect it.

Spoiler: Action

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16 AP/12 DC: Create an Artifact

The [Yet unnamed Artifact] with a +2 Time Domain
+2 Change: It's made from the Heralds own necklace as part of it's inner workings
+2 Flesh: The outer casing is made from the shell of a monster that Ka'al Russ specifically made to have chronological properties.
+1 Mutation: Excess use by any mortal without the proper precautions can lead to Mutations of the skin and eyes.
+1 Insanity: Spending too long looking into it, or looking it at exactly the right angle will drive the user insane
+1 Change: The paths shown by the Artifact change according to your actions now
+2 Science: The artifacts insides are mostly clockwork, and work based on scientific principles of this world, rather than relying entirely on mMagic.

DC: 3

[Red Lenses]

Frostreach - Feylthal
The Valley of Black Pools

Spoiler: I.

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Never before had such a large number of humans arrived in the Valley of the Black Pools. Delegations of Carrion Priests and Acolytes from the three great Jarldoms of Feylthal: Volager, Grahlheim, and Kagrengarde. These Jarldoms warred one another periodically, but as members of the clergy, those assembled were nominally above such disputes. Meaning that rather than assaulting one another, they remained among their countrymen, and nervously chatted among themselves about the cause for this summons.

They lingered were at the mouth of the valley, far from the line of white, barren trees that separated it from the tundra beyond. Within the tree line, small groups of Dregs gathered and observed the gathered humans balefully.

The nervous waiting continued for some time, before a single Dreg emerged from the valley and made its approach. It floated close to the ground, slithering through the air like a snake. One of its four arms ended in a short, wispy stump. Its eyes were dull and faded, a sharp contrast from the usual piercing white.

It came to a halt equidistant from the three groups, and croaked out in a frail, quivering voice:

“Where are the High Priests? Let them come before me.”

There were three congregations present, so three High Priests trudged forward with great urgency. First came Borgas of Volager, one-eyed and weathered. Korst came next, the High Priest Grahlheim – a hulking giant of a man whose feathered robes seemed to fit him poorly. And then Farsten of Kargengarde, who was so perilously old and pale he did not look much different from the dried corpses he oversaw the interring of.

They all came forward with the usual acclamations and expressions of gratitude offered to Dregs, genuflecting reverently and identifying themselves. Even this one, even if malformed, was entitled to them.

And it rather rudely interrupted them anyway with an introduction of its own.

“I am Nephomachus, Least-Worthy, Runt of All Dregs,” it said, “For the task of guiding such a large body of humanity at once, my kin have deemed me… Best suited.”

The three High Priests exchanged frowning glances. They loathed one another immensely, but nothing temporarily doused the fires of hostility quite like a shared insult from Dregs.

Korst barely repressed a sneer as he rose to his feet and dusted the snow from his knees. “And why have we been called here, Nephomachus?”

All this walking they had done, and were like to still do, and this was how Melwas’ heralds treated them. There was no effort to hide the discontent in his voice. Nephomachus fixed his dull eyes on the large priest, and slowly rose in the air, coiling lazily. “You are here to receive the direct blessing of the Lord Unchanging, that you might touch his divinity directly and channel it into your good works.”

The frown did not leave Korst’s face. “I don’t understand.”

Nephomachus stared unblinking at Korst. “We did not expect you would. All things will be made clear soon enough. Follow me into the Valley. And bring your adherents.”

Nephomachus swirled away, slinking back towards the valley. Once Korst was certain the Dreg was gone from earshot, he spoke to the other priests.

“It is getting harder for me to tolerate the attitude of these spirits,” he intoned. “Would it kill them to be courteous?”

Borgas rose to his feet, swatting free the snow that had accumulated on his legs and arms. “The many turnings of the Dregs are hardly for us to understand. They were molded according to the desires of Great Melwas, and so are perfect for whatever destiny he envisioned of them.”

“Even Nephomachus?”

“Especially Nephomachus,” Borgas quickly returned, nodding solemnly and clasping his hands together.

Korst resisted the urge to roll his eyes, and instead looked to Farsten. “And what about you, High Priest Farsten? What do you make of this?”

Farsten opened his mouth wide, exposing the few teeth he had left. He made a slow, throaty groan that might have been mistaken for a death rattle in other circumstances. Then he spit a lob of yellow mucus into the snow, and marched off to join his congregants.

“It seems the passage of time has caused eloquence to desert our most venerable peer,” Borgas muttered.

Korst shrugged his shoulders, turning to leave. “Dunno. Sounded pretty eloquent to me.”

Spoiler: II.

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The marching lasted for what felt like an eternity. The High Priests led their groups through the stagnant, forested valley after Nephomachus. Every so often they would pass more groups of Dregs, generally never more than five. They lazed in the shade of the white, barren trees. Some watched them go. Others did not care to notice, engrossed in the schemes they made among their colleagues.

“Never did like the way they look at us,” Korst remarked to the acolyte walking along with him.

“Of course, your eminence,” said the acolyte, nodding vigorously. “I don’t believe anyone does.”

Eventually they reached their destination: the shore of the largest Black Pool in the valley. It was a place all of the High Priests and many of the disciples were familiar with. Pilgrimages to this place were not required, but often undertaken by those who took their faith quite seriously… And had the luxury to afford a wagon all the way out here.

Nephomachus beckoned forth the High Priests once again, and they answered. The disfigured Dreg scraped away snow from the ground, and retrieved a smooth, stone bowl. Black as pitch and polished to shine. Despite where it rested, it did not seem to have accumulated dirt or stain.

“The time fast approaches where the honored dead must be called back to serve,” Nephomachus warned, voice still a tremulous whimper. “But it will not be left to Great Melwas to perform this miracle. It must be the most holy work of his faithful. Or else the act shall ring hollow.”

The Dreg turned from them momentarily, bowing towards the shore and submerging the vessel in the black pool. The tar-black sludge slowly filled into the bowl. Korst and Borgas strained their necks to watch, but Farsten only chewed his lip, his eyes far off, as if thinking of something else.

Nephomachus solemnly continued, “Or else the sons and daughters of Feylthal will remain forever untested, and the worthiness of their existence forever in doubt.”

Once it was filled, Nephomachus rose and drifted back to the High Priests. He presented them the bowl and its contents to them, offering it with the reverence a messenger might convey a treaty – terms of surrender.

“Drink.”

Farsten was the only one without the presence of mind to hesitate. He unsteadily accepted the bowl, frail arms faintly shaking under the weight. Korst and Borgas watched with knitted brows as Farsten brought it to his lips and, ever-so-delicately, sipped the contents.

He took barely a mouthful, wiped his lips on his sleeve, and handed the bowl to Korst. And then he was on the ground, hands and knees, coughing and dry-retching into the snow below. So far he did not produce anything, but Korst wondered if they were all about to become well-acquainted with whatever Korst had for breakfast that morning. Borgas winced to himself, cleared his throat, and muttered some helpful prayer.

Nephomachus canted his head to one side and regarded Korst. “Well, High Priest? Will you partake? And accept this great blessing and terrible duty?”

Korst’s answer came through gritted teeth, and was so terse and guttural Borgas almost mistook it for a grunt.

“Yes.”

Spoiler: Action!

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Melwas: 87/100 AP, 3 BP
20 AP/16 DC: Introduce a new Law of Reality - Deific Magic

+2 Undying, +2 Stasis, +1 Embalming: These are the aspects of Melwas' domain that he is attempting to directly impart on his followers.
+2 Consecrated Ground: Melwas is anointing his followers where his power is strongest.

Melwas is attempting to subvert - or perhaps puncture - the barriers that exist between mortals and deities. He seeks to grant his most loyal followers the ability to channel his divine energy directly, giving them magical abilities closely associated with his domains. This is his first detectable action.

Description

Deific Magic is a category of magic that draws from the power of existing deities rather than mana. Compared to Su Sorcery, it requires less learning and practice, is less physically taxing on mortals, and is much more limited in its capabilities. Deific Magic additionally relies solely on somatic gestures, willpower, and focus.

Deific Magic cannot be learned. It must be granted by a deity, who can likewise revoke any given mortal’s ability to channel them at will. Those who have been given access to Deific Magic are broadly referred to as Channelers.

Mortals or immortals of any status can only possess the Deific Magic of one deity or demigod at a time. To do otherwise would result in an overload of deific energy, which is almost always fatal. And explosive.

In practice, Deific Magic consists of Expressions. Expressions are broad magical abilities directly tied to the domains of the deity being channeled. Those who channel Deific Magic from true deities have access to three Expressions. Those who channel Deific Magic from demigods have access to one Expression.

Nothing about Deific Magic prevents individuals from practicing it alongside Su Sorcery.

You can assist Melwas by attempting to subvert the barrier alongside him, gifting Deific Magic directly to your chosen followers.

This action will permanently perforate the barrier between deities and mortals. This ultimately means that other deities who do not directly assist this action can introduce Deific Magic to their mortal instruments later only by taking an Influence action.

Deific Magic of Melwas

Undying: Anointed are able to reanimate specially prepared corpses as semi-intelligent undead constructs called Draugr. Draugr remain bound to the one who reanimated them indefinitely. Anointed may additionally use their magic to bind semi-intelligent or unintelligent undead to their will, or free them from existing control. Channelers are able to raise and command as many Draugr or other undead as they can find.

Embalming: Channelers are able to clean, mend, and preserve objects through a number of minor magical affects. These affects are ostensibly to prepare corpses for proper burial or reanimation, but they can also be used to affect rudimentary maintenance to objects or perform crude surgery on the living.

Stasis: Channelers are able to conjure, manipulate, and shape ice. They are also more comfortable in extreme cold, and require less direct protection from it. This is typically used to stop the decay of corpses wholesale, though has some martial applications in lobbing icy spears at enemies or inflicting them with frostbite. But these abilities are somewhat useless in warm environments.

Melwas: 67/100 AP, 3 BP

[Batcathat]

Ymon-Thal, Thal-Verys and Ymon-Desha, Lanka

"Oooh, what's this?" Ymon said as he reached out and touched the clockwork creation. "So... tick-tockety."

Thal's eyes narrowed as he observed the artifact-to-be without touching it. To a mortal it would look strange and complex and to a god even more so, its components tying into each other and the world around them in at least four dimensions. A most curious thing.

He took a deep breath. Unnecessary, of course, but occasionally useful from a dramatic point of view. "Very well, new god. We will assist you in your creation as long as you assist us with ours."

"Oh, is it time for that now?" Ymon asked and winked at no one in particular. "You get it? Time. 'Cause that's..."

"Yes", Thal interrupted. "Soon. First we help our new... cousin here."

Spoiler: Help for Ka'al Russ

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The artifact will be able to lock onto a specific soul and follow its (possible) fate throughout multiple lives and deaths (+ 2 Life, + 2 Death, + 2 Soul). -2 Unliving since the artifact isn't alive.

Afterwards Thal turned to Ka'al Russ. "You will sense what we intend soon enough. Farewell."

Ymon waved fervently as they demanifested. "Bye-bye!"

***

Ymon-Thal, Thal-Verys and Ymon-Desha, above Tria

Once again, they were floating in the air high above Tria, the jungle below blue in the moonlight. Beyond the physical reality Ymon-Thal could see glowing lines binding together every plant in the jungle, every animal hiding among them and here and there gathering of sparkling stars – the Yith and their Junctions. The Web of Souls spanned the entire continent beneath their feet and Ymon-Thal could sense Yith already adapting to it, taking in knowledge and skills with but a thought.

But there was no order. To most, the Web of Souls was an unending dinner table with countless types of food but no way of knowing what was good, what was filling or where anything was at all. They needed a menu. Or a waiter.

As one, Ymon-Thal reached for all the little lines – pseudo-real representations of the Web of Souls – and pulled them together in his hands, molding them into something new. Something almost-but-not-quite alive. A waiter for a continent of people and a world of knowledge.

Spoiler: Action!

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Create an artifact (16 AP/12 DC) – The High Mind (+ 2 Knowledge)

Despite its name, the High Mind isn't really a mind at all as it has no self or will of its own. Rather, it is a collection of the will of all Yith connected to it and each other through the Web of Souls (+ 2 Life, + 2 Soul) and all the knowledge therein. Its purpose is to collect, organize and distribute knowledge.

A Yith in need of some particular skill or information no longer has to know who has it or blindly search the Web of Souls for it, instead they merely send the High Mind a request for it and receive the desired knowledge nigh-instantly. The High Mind can also "poll" all connected Yith for their opinion in some matter and quickly present the majority's will (+ 1 Connection).

As the High Mind is able to copy and distribute any knowledge and memory, the minds of occasional particularly valuable individuals are copied in its entirety moments before their death (its connection Ymon-Thal allowing it to sense death approaching anyone within the Web, + 2 Death) and imbued onto living volunteers. The resulting individual has all the memories and knowledge of the deceased, as well as those of the volunteer, but their personality is a mix of both and they are usually treated as an entirely new person. It is also possible for a copied mind to exist within the Web of Souls, achieving an eternal life of sorts (the mind has a separate existence from the mortal it was copied from and whose soul goes into the Passing).

While the High Mind has no body or form of its own (instead existing distributed throughout the Web of Souls itself), it can temporarily possess the body (+ 2 Body) of any willing individual connected to the Web of Souls. This is mostly used for it to present or receive information to/from people not connected to the Web.

As the Web of Souls stretches into the Passing (+ 2 The Passing), so does the High Mind. There it can manifest a body (or multiple bodies) of its own though there is rarely reason to, though one is always guarding the non-existent entryway to the Library of Grawissen, which holds the knowledge of the dead.

Total bonus: + 11

OOC: To understand what I'm trying to create, it might be easiest to think of the High Mind as the supernatural version of a search engine crossed with a mid-level AI (able to understand almost any request but not sentient or aware in any way).

[Xenopax]

Lanka

In the darkness of night. In the middle of an empty area a flash of green light, Graw appeared again. ”so this is … the place… I felt ...an unfamiliar power.” Graw kept his eye sharp

Lanka was a strange land for those who didn't have a purpose here, gods included. Speaking of Gods, a bright eyed young man would soon walk up to Graw and speak with a voice that was far too old to be his own. "What are you doing here Boned One?"

”Yes...And I take it ...you're the power...I felt… Earlier… Graw said as he looked at the “kid” below him. ”...where did you… And the rest of those forces… Come from… Are you connected to… Tyrant?”


"No. I'm just me. Who else would I be?" The boy said to him in a slightly different voice from earlier, although the modulation changed a bit. "If you wish to discuss something, come to the highest tower on Lanka. Change your form though, or I can't promise my people won't try to take your bones. I'd rather not have a god rampage through my city," The boy would say before slowly raising a hand to point at the Tower Ka'al Russ was referring to.


Graw approached the tower that the kid was talking about. He made sure to be his tongue form as was requested, slowly walking up the massive stairs until he reached the top. “So I’ve done what you asked, now show yourself.

He was there in a human form, his eye color shifting as he spoke. "Welcome to Lanka Uncle. Why have you called upon my humble self?" His words sounded odd, almost as if they were made by a serpent rather than a human being.

Graw simply looked at him, trying to make sure he doesn’t do anything funny. “Where did you come from and who are you?”

"Ka'al Russ, Uncle. And I came from my mother Davandra's womb, right before you all went to sleep,"He answered without missing a beat.

A sadness swept over him. He could not feel Davandra energy like cannot feel Chern and Alatadriel energy.” He grinded his beak. “Are you the reason they’re gone?”

"Perhaps? I never investigated. I didn't kill my mother if that's what you're asking," He'd say watching as the weird dinosaur creature expressed it's frustration about his mother being gone.

“SHE WAS YOUR MOTHER! AND THAT ALL YOU CAN SAY ABOUT HER PASSING! A SHRUG” Graw yelled in anger.

"Yes? Do you know your mother? Do you spend your time mourning her? I barely knew the woman. So she doesn't matter to me," The God winced at the mans screaming. He'd been expecting an intellectual debate or something interesting. If he was going to get screamed at, it should have atleast been for something interesting. but this? this was boring.

Graw took a deep breath. “She was like family to me like the rest of the gods.” Graw said as he turned around and headed towards the door. “I feel like this conversation is going nowhere, I just wanted to check what the energy I felt was, I have no other reason to stay here.”

"You didn't answer the question. Did you know your mother?" He pointed out before turning around when he said he didn't have a reason to be here. "I was expecting more. Boring. Well leave then Uncle, don't let me hold you back," The god waved off the elder one before going back to his own work.