Lords of Creation: A Fresh Beginning [IC]

**Kinro** · 2021-09-20, 06:46 PM (ISO 8601)

The sauropod waited after the thought-image had been said. And waited, confused, not realizing how muddled and stunned someone like the creature that still had her hand on her tail might be after receiving something as densely packed and powerful as a sauropod thought-image. But eventually, she sensed something from him, dimly. It wasn't a proper sending, more like what an infant might produce, one which had not yet gotten a handle on its telepathic ability. Well, at least, it wasn't the other one, where an infant would simply broadcast its pain to all in range.

There was a moment of embarrassed hesitation, then. To understand, she would need to reach into the creature's mind. This was a very intimate thing to do, done only to infants, who didn't yet know how to produce thought-images, and close lovers. Infants found it soothing, of course, but she had no way of knowing how the stranger would take it. So she dove in, carefully sieving through the thoughts, the feeling as if she was pulling one away to examine it, before putting it back, intact, where it came from. And what she found was nearly beyond belief. An entire thinking people who somehow went their entire lives without ever being able to speak or even think properly."

The next communication coming from the sauropod to Lhazhax was softer, without the beautiful, complex layers of relationships and subtitles that the first thought-image had contained, it was slower, containing only one thought or two at a time, fed in careful, spaced out bursts. And it came with the strong impression that the sauropod was using her species's version of baby talk. Lhazhax learned of the curiousity and excitement she and her species would have of meeting another group of thinkers, of the agreement to have one of her tribe meet with one of his and, the most complex image she allowed herself to send, of the thought mages, who might be able to teach one of their numbers how to think and how to speak. And she sent one more thing, a warning, about the egg-thieves. Far, from a threat to adults of her species, of course, but Lhazhax was so small...

**Gnomes2169** · 2021-09-21, 11:14 AM (ISO 8601)

At the Black Peaks
Tahr'Thua would meet Kalvrakin's gaze and nod in return, the Lord of Winter silently accepting the implied relationship between himself and the Lord of the Undead. Tahr'Thua was an icon of despair, a malicious force that drove peoples to desperation and the brink of collapse... for mortals. There was no need to extend that same relationship to the gods assembled here, though many of them being as connected to their pet mortals as they were would see him as an enemy he was sure.

The raven let out a low rook of disappointment when the gods quickly discount them and their mists as a secondary threat, but the bestial god reached up to tap his finger against her beak. Patience would be a virtue here, as the Andlitir and his legacy were still young things in this world, much like the rest of creation. Provoking retaliation and out-right war when their own creations were still a fragmented and wandering peoples was something that they should avoid for now. He was poking, prodding, spreading fear and making legends, but only scraping at the edges of the creations of the other gods, and at random as well (well... outside of that Slig colony, but the power of the horn needed to be demonstrated.) A true demonstration of power and the confrontation it would surely spawn was not yet needed or desired.

But it would be inevitable. They should prepare for it.

In silent communion with the Corpse Eater, Tahr gave an errant gesture, and the raven took flight, seeking out a potent material from which to craft a tool. But where to find it...? Well, north was the obvious answer, in places most similar to the Hvittmaudh, where ice scraped away stone and exposed precious minerals and metals that were dragged forth from the world's core by volcanic activity.

The Howler himself felt strands of power tugging at him, a moment of ascension that was unable to be delayed for long, though he would be able to stay for a while in this place should he desire. Alas, others of his divine kin were already leaving and keeping only their utterers behind, and for a moment he considered striking down those mortals to spite a few of them. But that was a fleeting thought, and beneath him besides. Instead, he would touch the forehead of the Utterer that had come to him to brand the being as his voice, and he spoke to the representatives of those gods that had ascended and the gods that remained behind.

"Siblings, peers, rivals and idealistic fools that would name me nemesis. I am Tahr, the Lord of Winter and the bringer of the mists and the horrors within them." There, that was finally announced. Let the gods react to that as they would. Standing slowly, his elongated limbs unwrapping themselves as he rose to his true height, the god's lower jaw cracked open and further words poured out, though no tongue moved within that bare skull. "I have found this meeting... informative. I came here to accept an invitation, as respect and dignity would demand of me. I came to see what my other divine siblings, the ones who could be convinced to gather and discuss the ills that befall our creation even in these early days, would be like. I can now announce my intentions.

"You gods who have gathered here are invested in creation itself, though some of you limit it to your creations. The mortals you have created or given gifts to seem to be your primary concern. You want to shield them from predation and the designs of other gods, return their spirits into broken bodies, etcetera. Because you are gods, you can twist the world to your desire and change the fundamental aspects of creation to satisfy your desires. Some of you go too far and smother the mortals you made, leaving them dependent on you, sheltered from outside threats and making their lives... meaningless.

"But who could blame you? Why would you want your mortals to suffer? They are your creations, extensions of you, are they not? Why make their lives needlessly hard? Well. Don't worry about that. I'll make your antagonists, my creations will push yours to adapt and change. And I'll cull the failures that you would coddle. I don't expect you to like me much, but I'm not your enemy. I'm just... the colleague you happen to disagree with. In the spirit of collaboration and respect among equals, Arah-Huana, you have my word that this sanctuary you have created will not be threatened by me or my worshipers. My bestial creations I make no promises for, but the Hvittmaudh will never threaten this place because of my hand." Even if the horn was blown, no huntsmen would come to strike this place. Looking to Arkhos' representative, the god stated, "This is the only sanctuary I offer. Though, I'm not as much of a threat as the Calling. If I have my way, the world with cycle between the glory of rising from the ashes, and then collapse that starts it all again. That being wants all of creation to become an unchanging, dead singularity from which there is no escape. Note this warning, for you still have time to."

And with this, Tahr'Thua left the First World and entered the Hvittmaudh once more.

Forging of the Lasa Aisling
Silver was aspected already, as was bronze and zinc, but there were many tools to craft from the materials that this world had to offer, and some were too rare or buried in the deepest places, hiding them from the sight of mortals and gods alike.

Up in the north, one of these metals had been exposed. Revealed by the scraping of a glacier through volcanic rock, this off-white metal was similar to silver or unripened gold, dense, pliable, and without aspect or claim. After flying about for a time in this northern climate, Thua decided that this metal would serve her purposes nicely. Diving down to the roots of this glacier, the great Raven pecked and tore through ice and earth, chipping away fragment after fragment until the vein of this precious metal was exposed to the open air. With a burst of Ruin magic, the stone holding this vein was blasted away, and a chunk of platinum flew into the air.

The metal was of a size large enough to create any number of items, but the raven now found an issue with her plan. She was a god of mischief, of death and misfortune. She wasn't exactly a particularly creation-minded being. Tahr usually handled all of that... so she didn't exactly know what to do with the metal now that she had it. Clawing and pecking at the chunk of platinum in contemplation for a little while, the raven would then straighten and caw with sudden realization.

Scooping the metal up with her beak, the raven flew with the metal to one of the open veins of magma, and, certain this would work, she infused a spark of divinity within the metal, laced it with both Ruin and Mistforming magics, and tossed it into the molten stone below. The result was... suitably dramatic. With a rumble that made rippling cracks in the earth for a kilometer in all direction, the vein erupted, blasting apart the metal that Thua had tossed in as infernal stone welled up and poured out to seal the new holes in the First World's skin.

Ignoring the destruction in her wake, it was hardly remarkable for a sudden eruption like this to happen in this place, after all, the raven flew towards a freshly opened bridge to Hvittmaudh. As she left the First World behind, a mist that was not mist, that shimmered in the light, gathered beneath her wings, the infused metals that she had collected and destroyed gathering to her without form and just waiting for intent to return them to a physical state.

But who to give that forging to? Not an undeserving warrior, nor one whom was lesser than their peers. Perhaps, Thua reasoned, perhaps the bearer and crafter of this new tool could prove themselves in a little... contest.

Discussions, Sports and War Games
In their journey, the one Who-Believes and his companion had been slowed by the bounty of the tribe's latest success, and their travels were slow and leisurely. The tribe seemed unsure what to make of the interlopers, and discussed the matter nightly, but any discussion of violence or abandonment was cut short by a young huntsman every time it was brought up. In fact all three huntsmen, the other two being a mated pair at the edge of their twilight years but still young enough to join their young companion when the time to gather came, would vouch for the one Who-Believes and the one Who-Trusts. The huntsmen had given him a name in their own tongue, one that meant Storied-One, the learner and teller of stories, and this title seemed to carry weight among these people.

The young hunter and his apprentices, three children who would replace the elders once their age finally bowed their backs and hung their spears, were the ones that spent the most time with their guests, and thus they were the ones that did their best to teach the Daumer language and learn the speech of the outsiders. The huntsman had a title in the tribe, Tahr'Thua Meistari, though of this matter he did not speak and he insisted that Who-Believes call him by his chosen name, Oberon. Oberon had learned quickly, and while his speech was still clumsy, he was adept enough to answer this question.

When Who-Believes asked his question, Oberon would look to him and consider it for a time, then say, "You question why we return to our home. Would you not do the same, return to a place that has been your life and all you have known, were you to grow used to it? Our tribes hunt, and we hunt from the mists. Where else could we find what we need to live as we do?" Settling his shoulders, he would sigh and speak quickly to his apprentices in his own tongue, sending them towards a thinning band of mist that the tribe had elected to ignore, as the bridge would close before any true forging could be accomplished and they were still living on their bounty. "But this is a lie of pride, though my elders would be displeased to hear me admit it. In truth, it is because of this."

Gesturing at the adolescents, who were in their half-mist form now and standing in the planar bridge, he had his guests watch the children dip and play for a time, the Andlitir practically flying in their romp, and then he called for them to return without taking their physical forms. The children, confused, tried to obey their mentor, but every time they made an attempt, no matter how they struggled, they could not escape the borders of the mist by more than the span of fingertips. "They give us strength, but they are our extent, our horizon. Your world does not let us form as we are now, and the mist carries us back to here when it fades from your world of bounty. Thus, this is our world, and yours is yours, though we need yours to feed our tribes and preserve our people."

Rising to his feet, Oberon would gesture to the children to finally return and they took their physical form, then he told Who-Believes, "But we have duties here as well. Come, we have a ways to travel, for we are called to the opposite edge of the lake we have walked beside these last days. There is something I would show you and your apprentice when we arrive, Storied-One."

And for the next few days that is what the tribe did, and this small tribe passed and was passed by tribes that numbered in numbers far greater than their own. All of them looked in small wonder at the strange traveling companions. Some asked if Who-Believes and his ward were emergency food, many if the mortals had wronged Oberon's tribe in some way, and others mused if these were champions for the contest that all tribes were gathering to participate within.

This third question was mocking, always meant to ridicule the small tribe that had no business in the matters of larger, more important Daumer peoples, and from some of the elders this earned Who-Believes looks laced with venom. Oberon said, "Take not their insults to heart. If this is the extent of their imagination, then we should pity the size of their intellect instead of taking offense at their childish barbs." Not wanting to seem foolish by echoing their critics, this kept the malcontents among the elders from grumbling loudly, and not within earshot of Who-Believes or the huntsmen of the tribe.

Being smaller, Oberon's tribe would move faster than the great tribes with their multiple hundreds, and thus would reach the destination first. A dozen and one great, cavern-like icebergs rose from the earth, each of them hollowed out and leaking thick, unmoving mists. Beside the frozen lake, a place covered in unmoving fog of its own, stood a multi-level structure of ice, grand in its scale and form, like nothing that had yet been created upon the First World. It was a palace, established centuries, if not millennia before mortal minds would master the arts necessary to form such advanced structures, and at its gates sat a great, man-sized raven, denying entry to all who sought it.

All about this valley a great number of tribes had established their camps. The largest tribes kept themselves between the small tribes and the raven, barring entry to their lessers, but beyond that the tribes were scattered haphazardly. Here and there broken fields had been cleared of detritus and loose stone, and there elders watched as teams of young warriors and huntsmen played and competed in various sports and contests.

In one clearing a collection of Frost Widows, curled up and dormant, was arranged beneath a nest of hides with no sides, and Andlitir attempted to collect strips of colored cloth and hide that dangled between them without disturbing any of the spiders. It became clear quickly that the spiders, though terrifying in appearance and territorial, were of no real threat to the mistfolk, who could become insubstantial and were immune to their chilling aura, thus the contest came down to skill rather than courage. Children and adults both competed in this game, with the ones who had collected the most cloth being declared the winner. These are the contests that the children of Oberon's tribe went to play.

In others fields, mock skirmishes were held between the warriors of tribes. Smaller tribes competed for food or trinkets from the others, while the largest ones draw great crowds from all tribes to observe the spectacle. At these contests, much talk was made of who among the teams would be made into champions, who might ascend to challenge for the prize promised by Tahr'Thua. But the greatest spectacle was held only once each day, and it was a duel held at the gates of the palace, under the watchful eye of the Raven. And it was this duel that drew Oberon's attention and desire.

There, in an arena ordained and observed by a god, two contestants faced each other in single combat. They were chosen from among the largest and greatest Daumer tribes, and in this contest both Huntsmen and tribal warriors were free to commit against one another. The battles went to the third wounding, and each of them lasted for nearly half an hour, the spectacle and skill of the warriors involved putting on a display that was as much show as it was dance and a true struggle.

For twelve days these duels happened, and for twelve days Oberon attempted to join and prove himself. The elders of the greater tribes laughed and sent him away, for his tribe was small and had no true influence in Hvittmaudh. They told him to play at the smaller games, for the prize that Tahr'Thua had promised would not go to him, regardless of how it wounded his pride. The young huntsman refused all lesser contests for they were beneath him. And so for twelve days he did naught but wake, warm himself up for that day's duel, and find himself denied.

On the thirteenth and last day, the day that the Raven had ordained would end this festival, the gates to the palace opened, and from the frost and rime that poured from that structure strode the bestial form of the Howler. The twelve victorious champions, each of them from their own tribe, had assembled to compete for their god's amusement, but standing between them and the arena that they had been promised would hold their glory stood Oberon who, clutching a spear formed from the mists of his own body, would not be moved.

The champions and their elders called for him to leave and return to the tribe from which he'd come, and Oberon told them, "I am Oberon, Tahr'Thua Meistari, and I come from all tribes." Where his stubbornness had drawn annoyance before, this claim that he was Meistari to Tahr'Thua would send a ripple of outrage through the assembled great Daumer tribes. When the appealed to Tahr'Thua to punish him for this overreach, Oberon challenged, "Face me, if you would know the truth of it. For I am from a small tribe, and the champions of your great tribes should best me with ease should I speak false. Let each champion prove themselves against me. Should I prove the victor, then the champion who lost did not deserve the praise of their people to begin with."

Such impertinence only made the objections of the tribes even greater, especially now that the worth and honor of their champions had been questioned. The Corpse Eater cawed her amusement at this challenge, and the Howler, hearing her amusement, nodded and whispered that this test, meager though it seemed, would please him. Tahr'Thua did not say who the challenge would be meager for.

One by one, champions took their place in line to face Oberon, arranged by least favored to most, certain that the first champion would put the upstart in his place. The first ran into the arena, and in three blinks of the eye, the first champion was disarmed and slashed three times by spear blade across the left cheek. Each champion that came after was dispatched in similar manner, though they became more skilled and bouts lasted longer than that embarrassing first duel had. Eventually blows were actually traded, and the ninth challenger actually managed to strike close enough to cut Oberon's leathers, though still no blood from the huntsman had soiled the arena.

The last three, staring in wonder at the warrior before them, considered laying down their spears when the Raven's voice reached them, calling for all three to face Tahr'Thua's Meistari at once for the joy of the crowd. Though one balked that it was unfair, the three did not have it in them to disobey their god's command, and so they faced Oberon all at once. Oberon did not so much as flinch as he took his stance, awaiting his opponents' first move.

As superb as his form was with the spear, and as close to ascendant as he was, a battle against three foes was still something beyond a basic duel, especially among the Andlitir, who took their half-mist forms and danced with their spears as they had been trained from birth. Though he was greater than any one of them individually and the diffuse fighting style and sweeping blows sometimes tangled the other warriors among one another, these were three of his peers, and Oberon was forced further and further into a defensive posture just to remain unmarked.

Five minutes passed in that deadly dance, then ten, and twenty. Throughout the arena, even among the elders at one point, the four warriors danced, the three pressing Oberon further back, and the one denying their blades and the hafts of their spears purchase of his body. Then a cut appeared along his chest, one blow having woven through his defenses, and the tenth champion reeled back from three consecutive strikes to the chest, gut and head. Falling to the frozen ground unconscious, the Andlitir was forgotten as quickly as he had been eliminated and the eleventh and twelfth continued their assault. But now the result was certain, and while the twelfth champion managed to mark his foe a second time when the duel became him and Oberon alone, at the thirtieth minute exactly Oberon was the last being to stand within the arena.

The deafening shock of the elders of the greatest tribes was drowned out by the roar of triumph from the lesser tribesmen and tribeless huntsmen that had come to watch once they had heard of the remarkable unknown warrior and his feats. Staggering, exhausted and trailing blood from his wounded chest and leg, Oberon would walk with his head held high and go to kneel at Tahr'Thua's feet, with his head bowed and hands and spear held out before him. The Howler reached down to pluck that weapon from his hands and scattered it to dust and atoms, while the raven's wings spread, and the vapor of platinum that she had collected condensed into a new spear for her champion to wield.

The Daumer were... different after that. Though it would take time to show just how Oberon, the Lord of Winter and Master of the Wild Hunt would change them.

The Isle of Champions
Upon the Isle of Champions, an arch of deep sapphire seemed to just... appear. Surrounded by a chill and leaking mists, this portal lead to Hvittmaudh, though no horrors came through. A young Andlitir with a platinum spear slung over one shoulder walked to the edge of the mists at one point and looked around, then used a burst of ruin magic to carve a rune in the True Tongue promising to be there for the challenge. Then he was gone.

Spoiler: TL;DR

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Tahr basically told the other gods that they were being too nice to their creations, and that it was okay, because he was around to make a proper antagonist for them. He also agreed that the Black Peak of Reason would not be attacked by him or his servants, and he made an Utterer for him and Thua.

Thua harvested some platinum, vaporized it and may have set off a volcano or twenty in the process. But this wasn't anything out of the ordinary for the area she was in, so there was no need to worry about AP on land actions as far as that is concerned.

The one Who-Believes was told by a young Wild Huntsman named Oberon about how the Andlitir are trapped within Hvittmaudh, and was brought to a great gathering of the tribes for a celebration and contest.

At the end of that contest, Oberon, despite not being allowed to compete for the first twelve days, proved himself against the champions of the great tribes and is now an anointed hero bearing a weapon forged from the metals harvested by Thua.

The invitation for the challenge has been received, and Oberon is ready to come and prove himself in a different arena... once I have the AP to let him actually move far enough out of the new portal's influence to reach the arena.

Spoiler: AP actions

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Starting AP: 5

Rollover: +4 AP

-3 AP; Minor Combat Artifact - Lasa Aisling: A spear formed of pure platinum to be carried by Oberon that both vastly improves the bearer's ability to channel the magic of Ruin and allows them to call forth slain Wild Huntsmen awaiting rebirth. Dead huntsmen conjured in this way cannot take fully physical form (except in the case of being afflicted by Silver) and disappear within 1 hour or once they are slain and cannot be conjured again. They also do not suffer any consequences or boons for dying, failing or succeeding while conjured in this manner, they remain within their cycle of resurrection regardless of what they or any other being do to them.

This weapon is a symbol and tool of Oberon's office. Should the current bearer be slain or defeated, that tool is returned to the Hvittmaudh to await a new champion to earn it and claim the seat of Oberon.
Domain Progression: War (Glory) 5/10

-2 AP; Raise Hero - Oberon, Lord of Winter: The bearer of Lasa Aisling and the de-facto leader of the Wild Hunt, considered Tahr'Thua's champion, is known as Oberon. The name for this title comes from the first Andlitir to earn the position, Oberon, said to be favored by Winter's Maw, but it does not bestow longevity or immunity from harm, and thus it is a title that is passed from champion to champion. When one Oberon dies, another contest is held to find the most worthy warrior to inherit the title which all tribes and tribeless Wild Huntsmen are allowed to send a representative to, should they desire to compete.

Despite the title being something passed down between (typically) unrelated individuals, there is a continuous legacy between the Oberons. Each Oberon is granted glimpses into the memories of their predecessors, fortifying their skill, their mastery over magic, and connecting them with the last Oberon's tribe in a way that makes them consider the group a step-family.

Tribeless Wild Huntsmen and each Oberon's own tribe are considered Oberon's "Companions," and they are basically considered and treated as the nobles and aristocrats of Daumer society. The last Oberon's tribe is still treated as nobles would be, but they are not given the same respect or influence as the current ruling tribe.
Domain Progression: War (Glory) 7/10

-1 AP; Mundane Concept - Sports (Wargames): Sports are public events where games are played between professional practitioners organized into teams and... look. It's sports. These are contests where competitors demonstrate their physical or mental prowess in order to earn recognition, fame, material goods, etc. Non-professional versions of these games are seen as leisure activities or for children (which parents sometimes support in hopes that their progeny will live out their own dwindling asperations and wishes.)

The Daumer, being focused on battle and having a strongly nomadic tradition, have a large swathe of athletes who specialize in games that simulate war, skirmishes and battles. These war games are meant to be non-lethal, and while killing and opponent isn't expressly forbidden, most Andlitir that do purposefully kill a member of another team are shunned and cast out of all tribes. Even an accidental killer is often banned from ever competing in these games going on into the future.

Sports are, of course, an open concept, and the idea will spread to any society that appreciates athleticism, intellectual contests or just a good spectacle in general. Tahr'Thua is also subtly working to spread it throughout the First World, since glory in the contest is something the god represents and sports are a highly palatable way for that sentiment to spread. Thus, contact with the Daumer is not needed for a society to learn this concept, thus the society of any god that wants this concept can learn without the Teach action.
Domain Progression: War (Glory) 8/10

-2 AP; Create Portal - Hvittmaudh to the Isle of Champions: A stationary and permanent portal upon the Isle of Champions that is located half-way between its eastern shore and its centermost point. This portal takes the form of a crystalline arch, large enough for two beings to pass through it side by side, and from it leaks mist and frosted air that extends for a kilometer in every direction, though the mists and chill are not particularly dense. At night the area is covered in frost and had head-high mist, but at night most of that frost evaporates and the mist fades to resting low on the ground, around shin-height. During the day, this is enough to allow an Andlitir to wander within the perimeter made by the portal without assistance. At night, it is enough for them to take fully physical form just long enough to step fully into the First World without being dragged back to Hvittmaudh, though they still cannot maintain this form for long outside of the portal's influence.

Still, this gives a permanent location bridging the realms. At the moment, the Daumer tribes reserve use for this portal for Oberon and his court.
Domain Progression: War (Glory) 10/10

-1 AP; Alter Land (Hvittmaudh) - The Mistgates/ Ice Palace: While random scattered bridges to the first world can be found within the entire Hvittmaudh, these bridges are mobile and typically temporary things. There is a place where this is not true, and that is the Mistgates. Formed beside a lake that leads to the Wellspring, this repository of permanent bridges to other realms holds thirteen passages between the First World and Hvittmaudh. Each bridge is held stationary and maintained by glacier-sized structures of ice, and each bridge is separated by stadium-sized courtyards. The destination of these bridges fades, fluctuates and changes, as normal, but their location in the Nightmare Realm is kept consistent and allows the Daumer tribes that settle beside them to actually remain stationary.

At the heart of these structures, resting flush against the coast of the Wellspring bridge, is a palace of ice that glows with a soft, azure light. In what would be the throne room of the palace rests the portal to the Isle of Champions. Whichever tribe the current Oberon belongs to resides within the palace, along with any tribeless or outcast Wild Huntsmen, and these are called the Winter Court, which is ruled over by the current Oberon.
Domain Progression: Deception (Mists) 10/10

Total AP expended: -9

Ending AP: 0

Domain Progression:
Deception (Mists) 10/10 (DOMAIN GET!)
War (Glory) 10/10 (DOMAIN GET!)
Destruction (Ruin) 2/10

Tahr'Thua is now a Lesser Deity

**moonfly7** · 2021-09-21, 01:48 PM (ISO 8601)

The Gloaming

The being from beyond the veil had barely escaped before the large unique had reach it. For a moment it had thought it might lose this new consciousness on the other side before it gained any rewards from the effort. But now it was here, and it HUNGERED.

it waited until just after sunset before spilling out into the first world, it's body formless and weak, shifting with the shadows. It needed to be more....substantial to survive and indeed thrive in this world. So it's eary green tendrils sought out sources of great unique. And soon they found themselves wrapping tighter and tighter around an unaware and seemingly unintelligent behemouth of white stone.

The Gloamer leaped upon this thing, this wellspring of Unique, and tore it's weak will asunder as it burrowed deep inside the Stone adherent without leaving a mark. The world around it flashed sickly green for a moment, vines floated off of the trees and all manner of debries rose from gravity for one small flickering second, then all went still and everything fell back to earth.

And when it did, the Gloamer had a new skin.

It's body was strong and coursing with unique, but it's mind was weak and pliable. This left...Distaste in the Gloamers mouth. It wanted strong unique, a strong body, and a strong mind. The stronger the mind, the more noursihing it would be when it broke to the Gloamers will. But, for now, the Stone adherent would do. The Gloamer let what was left od the primitive beings mind guide it towards it's ilk, the energy it expended to acquire this body and cross over was much for this weak physical manifestation, and now it hungered.

By morning, three adherents would be found, their now grey bodies left sprawled out where they fell, devoid of magic and life.

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Skeletons and Lizards

It had been months since the others had left them and their now repurposed brass canoe on this abandoned circle of land. He-Who-Searches and She-Who-Raises-Bones had found no signs of life, and so together they elected to leave this place and continue their great work on the small islands off the coast, where they saw more evidence of life.

It was some weeks after their first few landings that they hit gold, in a sense. There was, in a dried out river bed, whole seams of metal's simply waiting to be mined! And there, surveying this, and looking wide eyed and fearful at the coming of these short skeletal beings, was a large, scaled being on two legs.

Raises-Bones in that moment whispered a prayer to her lord that their words be understood, and spoke with a flowing lilt unto the native of this land.

"We mean no harm, friend" she said as the creatures strange language flowed off her tongue. Blessed be Kal and his wisdom and generosity for his loyal servants she thought "We come in peace bearing gifts from the god Kalvrankin from his holy Orchard. We have been blessed with much, good food, beautiful art, and a means to protect ourselves from the threats of this world. He has granted us a secomnd life when we fall, and magics that would astound your mind. He has commanded us to share these things and we do so happily, will you let me share them with you?"

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Landfall of the 4

Abdita, the place the continent with more life than even Piedwald. The place of the Spire and so many other things. They had heard tales of tall beautiful creatures roaming this land and almost beast like giant insects as well. They had also been warned, the god Ara-huana would not find meddling in his affairs to be the gift that it was, and his people were notoriously dangerous. Still, while they would not seek out danger, if there were those who wished to seek them out they would be here, and if they could not offer the Second story here that was fine, they would simply give them knowledge of metals and true temper, offer healing and knowledge of writing and stories. Well, perhaps only the writing and stories, maybe not a good diea to give more weapons in their violent quest.

While two went to make themselves useful to the Nechustani without upsetting their god, two fearfully made their way to the Venuxi hive, following the tales of death and pain from the Nechustani. But they were members of the Eleven, and they were brave. Their lord asked this of them, and if it took their second story, then it would be a fitting end. But they now felt their lords gift of tongues, and new that they carried magic and weapons beyond most that rested here. They would endure, and they would make these strange insects into friends, or die again while trying.

Brass Woolies, a gift from the deep!

One might think that a thing that destroys boats, eats your livelyhood, and is clearly from the thing your people consider a demonic presence, would be an evil thing. With an Evil name and the desire to eradicate it immediatly. Especially when you have just successfully integrated magical metals into your biology, and this creature eats magical metals and therefore could be a threat to you. And if you did react reasonably and erradicate these pests, no one would blame you. Except for, perhaps, the Circle of Bronze and Bone.

Upon discovering these potentially dangerous and fast growing sea monsters, and upon relizing that their main food source was metal, and that they preferred True Tempered metal, a counsel was called.

"These metal eating monsters are a threat, not just to our boats and sea-based metal structures but also our people, with the recent insurgence of ALchemy, how many of us find ourselves more metalic than ever before? Gold runs in our veins now, alongside bronze and silver. Over 38% and climbing of the members of the Circle could be prey for these things. They must be irradicated and-" She paused "Who-Tames why the Darkening Deep is one of those thingsin your lap?"

"First of all, Temper" The First story Atfal said with a raised finger, the other hand petting the strange creature in her lap "they aren't called "Those things" They're Brass Woolies! And second of all, this is They-Who-Sleep. Because it takes lots of naps, and because I can't figure out if it's male or female." She says with a smile and a pat to the creature, which gurgles softly.

"Tames, those things spit acid. And your infused with Gold and silver, it-it wants to EAT METAl Tames. Put it down, now, so we can take care of it. How-How the DEEP did you even get it on land, they're sea creatures and-wait, why does it have tiny little crawlers?"

"That would be because of alchemy!" she said with a happy smile as she stood, and set Who-Sleeps on the ground for a moment "Since alchemy works on biological creatures to an extent, I worked with it to help Who-Sleeps survive on land. I also made them a tad friendlier! It-it wasn't really hard, it's easier to eat pure metal than hunting a creature with a minor investment of metal in it. And if said creature feeds you metal, it's definitley better to not eat it. Apply some alchemical alterations to it's mind and well-they aren't even a bit of threat! To us. Not a threat to us, When Who-Sleeps is actually up to a fight he can be quite dangerous. "

Tajir rubbed the bridge of her nose while Kalvrankin Laughed inside her head.

"You have to give the girl credit, Tajir, That much work that fast is impressive. And look at the little guy! She named it "Who-Sleeps" Tajir. You can't not love that."

Tajir sighs.
"Alright Tames, alright. I vote that, for now, we don't brutally massacre all of these creatures, and see if perhaps Tames and her new...Biologicaly focused Alchemy and her study of these creatures can make them less of a danger. All in favor?"

Every hand in the circle went up almost instantly, they didn't disagree with Tajir necassarily, but in true circle fashion, just about all of them now greatly desired a Brass Wooly companion.

Tajir sighed.

She paused "Motion passed. Kalvrankin help us."

"I always do, my Temper. Although I fear I won't be coming home. I- your goal to make me a real god may have worked to well. My power has grown my dear, and the first world rejects entities that have gone beyond the strength of Demigods. I-there's so much more I wish to do, much I must say. But that can wait, that can wait. I'll still speak to you, and answer your prayers. Just-Keep the others safe, tell them that I have left, and tell them that I am still with them."

And then the Orchard shook with power and a flash of bronze light, as a massive glowing light ascended into the heavens and dissapeared.

Spoiler: AP Actions

Show

Bless(1 AP) Tongue of Multitudes: When acting in good faith and in the name of Kalvrankin, Followers can speak and understand the languages of others even if they have no knowledge of them or any common language. Change(Rebirth)(6/10)
Teach Concept(1 AP) Animal Husbandry: She-Who-Tames was given divine inspiration to cultivate, grow, and tame wild animals, beggining with the skeletons in the orchard and soon expanding to the Brass Woolies. Change(Rebirth)(7/10)
Create Monstrous Sublife(1 AP) Land Brass Woolies AKA Land Woolies or Brass Crawlers: Brass Woolies altered and changed by Alchemy and breeding to grant them the ability to live, and move, on land. Land Brass Woolies have been bred and altered to be extremely loyal and affectionate to those that care for them, and are excellent animals for work, companionship, and Protection. Brass Crawlers also have the unique ability to retain a portion of the magic from true tempered metals that they eat. Like their oceanic counter parts, these land dwellers can grow as big as their food supply allows, and with access to a near limitless supply of metal from their caretakers it is not uncommon for Brass Crawlers to be the size of a horse, or to be used a such. Change(Rebirth)(8/10)
Create Mythical Subconcept (2 AP) Bio-Alchemy: Bio-Alchemy is a subsect of alchemy specifically tailored to the direct alteration and change of living matter. This branch of Alchemy was largely inspired by the strange creatures located in piedwald, like the continents metal trees, and the regular kind that grows eggs and hatches birds. While built upon the Alchemy used to incorporate True Tempered metal into circle members, Bio-Alchemy is distinctly different, because the metal infusion process requires alchemy almost entirely focused on the inanimate magical metal and maiing it into a liquid, non-toxic state. Whereas Bio-Alchemy would focus on changing the living being so that it could recieve the metal. Change(Rebirth)(10/10) Ascendance achieved!
AP Before Roll over: 3

3+4= 7

7-1-1-1-2=2

Current AP: 2

**zzzzzzzz414** · 2021-09-23, 02:11 AM (ISO 8601)

The Borametz Grove, North of Sailloch, Piedwald

Gellyr, Werrel and Ailwen drew back slightly in surprise, and glanced at each other and their other two companions, a dark look passing between them. They hadn't really expected much of a warm welcome from the wood-eaters, but it seemed that these people were...quite seriously misinformed. If the sligs truly thought they were some form of monster, was allowing themselves to be met by this "cadre" (some kind of...group of warriors, maybe?) such a good idea?

Gellyr shrugged. Still, it was this or abandon the place and go back home.

"We...accept these terms." Werrel ventured cautiously. "We do not know what you have been told of us, and we don't know anything about 'consuming creation', but we truly would like peace with you, if it is possible. I don't think we'll need much help with predators, but we will teach you as much as we are able; and we hope to learn more of you, in turn."

And the dryads did indeed keep to their promise - mostly. They retreated outside the village (leaving the animals alone, despite Ailwen's protests) and they were more than happy to tell the visiting cadre about the isle of Sailloch and about the ways of OGAM. But they held back on divulging the secrets of Earthspeak - for there was an unspoken belief among the group that such knowledge would not be used by the Sligs for communion with the earth, but further dominion over it.

--

The Peak of Reason, Northern Abdita

Wyn and their companions remained mostly silent throughout the rest of the meeting. Their expressions darkened as it continued, their vigil broken by occasional bouts of whispering. It was known that there existed in the world a Calling, a silent song of death that lured the weak-willed into the dark and the depths - but it had never occurred to them that this was anything but the way of the world, inseparable from the wind and the sunlight. That it was in truth the act of a god was...concerning. And though the mist-horrors had never attacked any of the Five Forests, they knew the stories, carried on roots from the far land of Piedwald. The frost-god's speech was...strange. The natural way of life was to grow, to flourish, to expand and form connections; to choke that with blood and ice was to destroy meaning, not create it. Still, neither Wyn nor their companions spoke up again; the frost-god stood against them, to be sure, but he had not insulted OGAM as the parrot-god had.

As for the parrot-god himself...Wyn was just a Speaker; they could not hope to know the deepest thoughts of OGAM. They knew that this "Calling" stood against the flourishing of life, and should be opposed. But so too did the parrot-god and the frost-god, though in a different way. None, Wyn felt, would be permitted to bring destruction to OGAM's children, or to the broader bounty of life upon this world. Whatever that took, and whatever alliances that required.

Some time after the meeting had concluded, when they had finally reached the base of the great black mountain once again, the group stopped, and spread out, searching for a suitably wide, flat area to carry out what they'd discussed on the way down, forming into a circle once they'd found a broad, level rock. They had made a promise to uphold the black peak as a bastion of safety, communion and life; but it was the way of OGAM to speak through more than words. The Great Worm very, very seldom answered calls from the surface. But it had been quite some time since he had appeared; and, they hoped, this was important enough.

Their hopes proved true; and, as the group finished the massive and ancient ritual, sending magic down deep into the earth, they were answered with a massive rumbling, as the earth all around them, and far, far beyond them, began to change.

The Dirt-Eater himself did not appear - he never did - but the evidence of his work was plain to see. The earth and rock heaved up all around the base of the great mountain; massive slabs of stone shifted, cracked and buckled, shifting and turning, as wellsprings of water and mud surged out of great cracks in the earth, all of it rolling and crashing like waves on the sea. When the earth finally settled again, it was greatly changed; where there once was just open desert and hills, there was now a ring of great rock formations shaped almost like half-domes all around it, with dozens of oases, rivers and strips of rich soil scattered among them. An ideal place for the settling of life; and an ideal natural defense against outside invasion.

--

City of Tollan, Anahuac, Cartisia

Viernan turned to xer companions, eyes wide. Had they, too...?

The expressions on their faces told xer all xe needed to know. They must have just experienced it too, then: that stirring in those old memories, that old self, hearkening back to a life they could scarcely imagine now. Every Dryad retained the memories of their time as an Ent; but scarcely did they ever resurface, lost in vagueness and obscurity as they were buried by newer experiences. Until now, that was.

Like a sapling from loose soil they had suddenly re-emerged, carrying the memory and understanding they could not as the Quetzpal-in's sounds reached them. Though Ents could not hear, they knew the earth; and Viernan knew down to xer core what each of those sounds came from, what they meant: and xe had understood the stranger's message as clearly as if it had been said in Dryadic.

Viernan scratched behind one of xer horns, trying to determine what it was the stranger had even used. It was certainly not Dryadic. Nor did it carry the resonance of the True Language, though it seemed to be some sort of magic; certainly there was no other way the one before them could have made such sounds of the earth! It wasn't quite the tongue of the ents, the language of wood and root that ran beneath the soil; yet, somehow, xe knew in her core that the ents would know it. But how could that be? It was known to all that the rooted ones spoke only the True Language. It was...something else. Something new - maybe it was to the True Language spoken in the tongue of wood and root what Dryadic was to the True Language spoken in the tongue of air and water? How they could have come up with such a thing without, to xer knowledge, even meeting an ent, was...well, just another wonder of this city, xe supposed.

But, in any case, Viernan had no clue how to respond. Xer companions seemed similarly baffled. They had all understood, xe could tell, but they had no way to respond in kind. They certainly didn't know how to produce sounds like that...did they? Well, maybe not quite like that, but...

Viernan nodded at the figure, and withdrew, calling xer companions together for a quick huddle of whispers. When they broke again, a different figure cantered forward: a thin, nervous-looking dryad, with a bottom half and antlers surprisingly reminiscent of a mazatl. Taking a deep, shaky breath, recalling deep memories that were hers and yet not-hers, she held out a staff that seemed to have been grown - not, carved, grown - from a large branch; and suddenly, the quiet wind-rustling of the trees and plants in the Tranquil Waters fell silent, leaving only the quiet burbling of the brook. And then, slowly, it came alive again, in bits and pieces and layers. The rustling murmur of leaves in a gentle zephyr breeze. The gentle thf of a budding flower opening its petals for the first time. The shifting of soil as a clump of mushrooms forced its way into the sun. A thousand near-imperceptible sounds issued from the plants all around them as they bent to the magic of Earthspeak, woven together into a great tapestry - one that would mean nothing to most, but to one who knew the language of the earth (and was able to look past much roughness and mistakes, pulled as it was from old memory and delivered through imperfect physical means), might translate as something like this:

[We greet you as the passing wind greets the great oak. I am called Mauryln, and my companions are Viernan, Moireann, Cerrhid, and Riannon. We have come from the great wood in the east as seeds upon the wind, to know the world and its peoples. We are humbled by this place; we would learn from you, and give you our knowledge and friendship in turn.]

With that, the garden settled once again, and Maurlyn dropped to her knees, panting heavily with the exhaustion of so much Earthspeaking use.

--

Due West of Fearnmag, Plains of Central Abdita

"Right, right, yes, no knife, peace, friends!" Aithne babbled, holding her hands up to show that they were empty. That...had been a peaceful bark, right? She hoped so.

The mysterious fox-being didn't seem to be preparing to kill them, at least, which was good! But she also clearly didn't speak dryadic (duh), which was bad, and left them in a bit of an awkward spot. But they had to try, didn't they? So, after a few moments of staring at each other, Aithne attempted to introduce herself; gesturing at herself and saying "Aithne", and gesturing back to the stranger in turn.

Whether she receieved a response or not, Aithne then continued with a more complex attempt at communication, gesturing to her four companions, pointing east, pantomiming some walking motions, and making several energetic gestures between the stranger and her group.

"We're going east; do you want to join us?" was what she was trying to say. Though it seemed to Aithne's companions that her enthusiasm was somewhat outstripping her ability.

--

The Orchard of Kalvrankin, Piedwald

Gaoimhe's grin, somehow, got even wider as he nodded along through Who-Teaches' explanation. "Oh it is! It's very, very exciting! Because you see, talking to the plants is really only half of it! The really interesting things start to happen when you start asking the plants for things."

Gaoimhe was as eager (though perhaps not quite as capable - dryads were used to learning things quite slowly) a student as the smiths and Temperers of the circle had ever known - and even his companions' curiosity began to overcome their discomfort with the stange and artificial-seeming orchards. And so, after some time, a new sort of forging began to emerge.

They were of course used to smelting and forging metal with furnace and fire; but earthspeak allowed for the shaping of plants, and so, via careful application, the growing of metal into the desired shape, forming metal objects like the simple Earthspoken wooden slings and shortbows the dryads commonly used. These items were, perhaps, not as perfectly formed as their smelted counterparts, but unlike those objects, these were alive, Spoken out of (semi) living metal, capable of taking on more complex Names and acting as channels for Earthspeaking magic and True Temper alike - the first undead weapons and armor.

Spoiler: AP Actions

Show

AP total: 5

Rollover: 5+4 = 9

Alter Land: The Ring of Life (0AP, Paid through Artifact use)

A ring of oases and closely-grouped rock formations surrounding the base of the Black Peak of Reason. The sandstone rock formations are massive (averaging 80-90 feet high) and slightly half-dome shaped with shallow "hollows", all of which face towards the mountain itself, thus presenting a shady hollow ideal for a village or settlement from the inside of the ring, and a sheer rock face to the outside of the ring. The gaps between the rock formations are such that small groups of travellers would have no problem finding safe passage, while large armies would have significant trouble moving through.

The ring is also scattered with many oases, rivers and strips of rich, fertile soil ideal for plants or crops.

(Note to self: think up a better name)

**canjowolf** · 2021-09-23, 05:33 PM (ISO 8601)

The slig had come from across the sea in a shell of dead wood carved with copper blades. The people of the garden looked across the waves and longed to to reach the lands beyond, just barely visible when the sun burned off the ocean fog.

The people of the gardens preferred living wood to dead, and were not adept with metal tools. Instead, they dreamed up a living city of saltmarsh reeds and algae straining the sea water to feed it to Phihid, who in turn took in sunlight more efficiently and directed the growth of the lesser plants. The gardeners traveled with the Phihid on these boats and began growing their gardens on the surrounding islands. Each island of great size even recieved a seed from the Dream Tree, though with such a small demesne, who among them could grow beyond the long Shadow of the Garden?

Spoiler: AP

Show

AP: 2 held + 4 gained = 6 total
-1: Teach Mundane Complex: Shipbuilding (1 AP) (War - Cunning)
5 AP remains

**Feathersnow** · 2021-09-23, 09:56 PM (ISO 8601)

Slingid

The Borametz Grove

The Cadre sent to the Dryads were deeply disturbed. The tree monsters were clearly likewise uncomfortable. After several fruitless shift exchanges of different cadres, it became obvious. The Sligs were willing, for the foreseeable future, to respect the territorial boundaries of the Ents and dryads. The Dryads, for their part, were willing to do the same for the Sligs. The Sligs had nothing the people of OGAM wanted, the Dryads had nothing they were willing to share with the Sligs.

As a show of good faith, the Principle Queen of Thiplisk and her Council of Te'ivosks agreed to set aside a large parcel of undeveloped lands to serve as an embassy of sorts, should the creatures of OGAM ever need to contact civilization directly. It was vainly hoped by the dimmer workers that seeing how much better things were outside the borders of their untended wilds, the dryads would come to question their nonsensical values.

In The Land Of Sauropods

Borrowing a creation of limited use in Piedwald from the Preparing Knife, hunting came to be a major activity in the Colonies to the West.

The bow, being a semi-divine gift, seemed at first over hyped to the pastoralists and farmers of Piedwald. Fables aside, few large predators lived there, and they were deterred by the slogs if they dared approach Slig settlements.

But the Vociraptors followed a different logic, and were not afraid of Slig nor slog.

So weapons were needed. To use a bow properly, a Slig needed special stirrups to hold him in place in his prosthetic legs. It was quickly discovered that special quadruped rigs allowed better aiming and superior draw. And, once the cadres all had armed specialists, a little competition was in order. The cadres started target shooting.

And, once all that effort was in place, it was a shame not to profit from it. Not to hunt the great monsters. The Sligs were sane, after all! But the lesser beasts soon began to fall to Slig arrows.

And so, it was from that that the ill-fated first encounter with the Rekexi was born.

The three-horn was acting odd. It was separated from its group. It was rooting around were three-horns rarely had reasons to look. Maybe it was sick. But, the Sligs, reasoned, nothing that wouldn't get cooked out. It died in a hail of arrows.

Just off the shore, a Rekexi screamed as the creature it was bound to died in agony!

Ilse of Champions

Tloc had built the boat out of wood plated with bronze he True Tempered himself. He carried little but a harpoon and a net, his legs stowed carefully behind a bulkhead, with a specialized snipers nest to spear fish as the animation magic rowed the boat to the strange call. A carefully controlled pit of incense showed the way in its smoke.

These advances were already being put into triremes back on Piedwald, and it was inevitable that the dubiously loyal Ytrel Te'ivosk would allow them to fall into the hands of Slin-Thirthu. But Tloc was the first.

And he had made it here, further than any Slig in recorded history.

The Black Peaks of Reason
At first, the confession of the Mist God filled Slingid with rage. But then he considered his words. Eventually, he spoke...

I am not happy with what Tahr'Thua has done, but... I fear he is right. I have been too protective and too jealous of my creations. I wished for them to be strong, but, perhaps, I have made them dependent. Only I and the demiurge of Gravity have been so jealous we even keep the souls of our fallen, rather than let them move on even in death.

So, I say I will stop. I will quit this world, and only interfere after this point with those of my children who would seek to join me after living at least one full lifetime here. When the Mantle of She-Who-Is-Ever-A-Part passes to the Queen of Thiplisk, I will take the first Slig with me to a new land, and never perch on the First World again.

Later
She was not young when she was beached in this forest, and she had lived centuries since. Slig Queens don't speak their names, but, alone of her ilk, she was truly without one. She was born an Ursliga, without words or need for them. But she would die the firsf Kzairra of the Combine, founder of a city of thousands, and mother of her people.

And, she knew, it would not be long. Her gills were always dry, her tentacles wilted, and it was harder each day to push up to feed herself...

Then, as on that first day, a Parrot came, and she knew it was time.

The world shifted, and her palace was replaced with a dark wood, so like the one her children had long since tamed or leveled.

The Parrot spoke Come away with Me,
My daughter. Through the Dark Forest, to the Promised Land

And, for the first time in centuries she swam. Through, the air, through the trees, to what lay beyond...

Spoiler: AP actions

Show

Mundane Concept= archery (artifact use)
The use of muscle-powered tension to propel specialized projectiles as weapons

Create Land: The Dark Forest and the Golden City (2 AP)
This region in The Wending represents a final test and a final reward for Sligs that die of natural causes. If they pass through the Dark Forest, using all the skill and will their life taught them, they may ascend to a new life in The Golden City. Currently, this has no inhabitants, but it will be great when it does.

Darkness (Forest) 7/10

Create Mythic sublife: The Prepared (sublife of Sligs) 3 AP
In their basic form, these beings resemble spectral Ursliga flying through the air. However, they can sculpt and animate physical bodies, usually in the form of Slig workers. They also have semi-intelligent outrider bodies that have similar abilities but are dependent on the core for orders and often resemble Slogs or Slog-like fish. These bodies are said to be the spirits of the best Slogs, but are really extensions of the Prepared.

Forest(Darkness) 10/10
Ascend!

**bc56** · 2021-09-23, 10:54 PM (ISO 8601)

Aithne, Aithne, Aithne.
It must mean something. The creature keeps indicating itself. Aithne. Is that its name?
With a flourish of her wrist, Ember calls forth a flickering tongue of flame in her hand and lets it die down to a cool, dim spark. Then she points to herself with the other hand. She does it again.
Then, wiggling, that way? The group. The group wiggles that way. Walks, maybe?
Ember barks again. These creatures, no, people might know where others of her kind are. She points to herself again and then wiggles her fingers similarly, gesturing all around. Then she points at herself, then at the group. Hopefully that gets across the idea that she wants to come along.
Since the two are in agreement about that, they will continue their travels together.

Ember knows no language, but is naturally curious and a quick learner; it's not long before she can speak at least broken Dryadic. She explains her quest as best as she can to the dryads.
"I will find other my kind. I am only my kind I find." (She still needs more time to learn.)

**ezekielraiden** · 2021-09-25, 09:47 AM (ISO 8601)

The coils of time and memory bind together in the mind of a deity stepping forth for the first time from his people. Arkhos saw...many things, some recent, some old, some to come after. To the divine, time may flow like the river, or like the ocean, or like things undreamed in the thoughts of mortals.

------------------

Arkhos burned. The admission of guilt. So brazen, so cavalier. And to mock the gifts he had given, the care he had taken for his children--to say that death for their charges was deserved? Unthinkable. Unconscionable. Unacceptable. A price must be paid for what was taken.

Tahr'thua. The wicked cold. The howl of despair. Yes, of course such a thing could never understand real glory, glory that lasts, glory that continues to shine on in the hearts of a thousand generations to come. What could the cold know of the Sun's glorious light? Tied up in the mere petty interests of survival. Unable even to conceive that there was something more than survival value.

He had his target. But even now, he could feel the same pull as his siblings in divinity. The world had not changed. They had changed, were yet changing still. So too would restitution need to change, justice for the fallen. He would need to close the loop first, but there were things that could be yet done, in time. He had but to wait for the time to strike--for kairos beneath Kairos. But chance only favors the prepared mind...or perhaps the prepared heart.

Thus did he reach deep into the hearts of each of his creations, and grant them the strength to weather all but the most dire of life's struggles. Into the Quetzpalin, he poured his iron will, his determination to see the Oath fulfilled. Though, as before, he gave no sign, said no word--for it was up to them to learn and understand on their own. He knew they would find out. Children falling from high trees, to suffer only knicks and bruises. Hunters clawed near to pieces, painting the forest red with blood, yet surviving to finish the hunt and carry no scars beneath the claimed pelt. Explorers, pushing ever forward to the west, barely inconvenienced by a broken leg or an injury to chest or stomach.

Warriors, though they knew not yet this role, ready to respond to the chill of despair with unflinching resolve.

Yet...Arkhos knew that it was because they stood alone, unguarded, that his children had fallen so easily before the spawn of Tahr'Thua. There might come a time of need, where his children would wisely call on the aid of others. They should not be punished for doing so, nor fear their trusted allies fall to blows they themselves would shrug off. So the Woven Oath did an oath weave: that true friends, heart-friends, sisters by blood shared, should stand almost as tall, almost as resolute as their Quetzpal'in comrades.

------------------

Spoiler: City of Tollan, Anahuac, Cartisia

Show

Originally Posted by zzzzzzzz414

City of Tollan, Anahuac, Cartisia

Viernan turned to xer companions, eyes wide. Had they, too...?

The expressions on their faces told xer all xe needed to know. They must have just experienced it too, then: that stirring in those old memories, that old self, hearkening back to a life they could scarcely imagine now. Every Dryad retained the memories of their time as an Ent; but scarcely did they ever resurface, lost in vagueness and obscurity as they were buried by newer experiences. Until now, that was.

Like a sapling from loose soil they had suddenly re-emerged, carrying the memory and understanding they could not as the Quetzpal-in's sounds reached them. Though Ents could not hear, they knew the earth; and Viernan knew down to xer core what each of those sounds came from, what they meant: and xe had understood the stranger's message as clearly as if it had been said in Dryadic.

Viernan scratched behind one of xer horns, trying to determine what it was the stranger had even used. It was certainly not Dryadic. Nor did it carry the resonance of the True Language, though it seemed to be some sort of magic; certainly there was no other way the one before them could have made such sounds of the earth! It wasn't quite the tongue of the ents, the language of wood and root that ran beneath the soil; yet, somehow, xe knew in her core that the ents would know it. But how could that be? It was known to all that the rooted ones spoke only the True Language. It was...something else. Something new - maybe it was to the True Language spoken in the tongue of wood and root what Dryadic was to the True Language spoken in the tongue of air and water? How they could have come up with such a thing without, to xer knowledge, even meeting an ent, was...well, just another wonder of this city, xe supposed.

But, in any case, Viernan had no clue how to respond. Xer companions seemed similarly baffled. They had all understood, xe could tell, but they had no way to respond in kind. They certainly didn't know how to produce sounds like that...did they? Well, maybe not quite like that, but...

Viernan nodded at the figure, and withdrew, calling xer companions together for a quick huddle of whispers. When they broke again, a different figure cantered forward: a thin, nervous-looking dryad, with a bottom half and antlers surprisingly reminiscent of a mazatl. Taking a deep, shaky breath, recalling deep memories that were hers and yet not-hers, she held out a staff that seemed to have been grown - not, carved, grown - from a large branch; and suddenly, the quiet wind-rustling of the trees and plants in the Tranquil Waters fell silent, leaving only the quiet burbling of the brook. And then, slowly, it came alive again, in bits and pieces and layers. The rustling murmur of leaves in a gentle zephyr breeze. The gentle thf of a budding flower opening its petals for the first time. The shifting of soil as a clump of mushrooms forced its way into the sun. A thousand near-imperceptible sounds issued from the plants all around them as they bent to the magic of Earthspeak, woven together into a great tapestry - one that would mean nothing to most, but to one who knew the language of the earth (and was able to look past much roughness and mistakes, pulled as it was from old memory and delivered through imperfect physical means), might translate as something like this:

[We greet you as the passing wind greets the great oak. I am called Mauryln, and my companions are Viernan, Moireann, Cerrhid, and Riannon. We have come from the great wood in the east as seeds upon the wind, to know the world and its peoples. We are humbled by this place; we would learn from you, and give you our knowledge and friendship in turn.]

With that, the garden settled once again, and Maurlyn dropped to her knees, panting heavily with the exhaustion of so much Earthspeaking use.

Tonalli filled with joy, and some amount of pride, that her message was understood, and even reciprocated. But...clearly it cost this child of the Forest greatly to speak so. Though she did not understand why their speech and hers did not cost the same, she did not wish to exhaust the envoys before they had even begun to connect. So she did as she could to speak how she knew they could hear, and then how she did not know if they could, to piece together a little bit of understanding, without asking so much of them. After some time of getting across the basics, she tried something a little more advanced, on the hunch that these "seeds upon the wind" were chosen for their mission of discovery as much as the Quetzpal'in had been chosen for receiving it.

"I welcome you, seeds-upon-the-wind. I am called Tonalli, and I speak first among the devoted of Arkhos, the Dawnbringer." She gestured to the simple disk that hung from her neck, washed in a vivid blue color, with a thin, circular ring of gold the only embellishment on its surface. "I know the tongue of my people is yet new-laid to you, but I see your exhaustion, and would not ask of you to pour out your vessels without need. We will build to it, with time."

She smiled, unable to contain herself. It had worked. They had used the gifts of Arkhos, and laid the founding-stone of peace. "This is a great day for both our peoples! Our Father prepared us for your coming, that we could understand each other, and avert the terrible cost of angering the children of the Forest." There would be yet more to say, but it had to be done in learned stages. The Pyramid of the Sun had not been built in a day--nor was its peak made ready before the foundation.

------------------

Again the Arches produced something, but it was--for the first time--not an animal. Children passing by them (or, often, through them--a taboo act, and thus a common dare) came away with strange, bright-blue fruits in hand. The flesh within the outer rind, of similar but darker blue hue, was firm and juicy, with a mild sweet-tart taste, and inside, a single large, hard-shelled seed. Children and adults alike tested their curiosity by planting these seeds, and with shocking speed, the plants sprouted and grew.

In just a few short years, these trees would become ubiquitous around Tollan, and the Temoanih came to call them Trees-of-Life, for in every way, they provided some helpful thing for living, if nurtured and well-cared-for. Only later, when the horticulturists began their more careful, practiced work, was the true aptness of the name revealed. These trees, more than just supporting the lives of those who planted them, also supported the life of any tree grafted onto them. Even some non-tree plants found purchase in their branches, creating endless possibilities of flower-gardens and topiary sculpture.

------------------

Spoiler: Skeletons and Lizards

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Originally Posted by moonfly7

Skeletons and Lizards

It had been months since the others had left them and their now repurposed brass canoe on this abandoned circle of land. He-Who-Searches and She-Who-Raises-Bones had found no signs of life, and so together they elected to leave this place and continue their great work on the small islands off the coast, where they saw more evidence of life.

It was some weeks after their first few landings that they hit gold, in a sense. There was, in a dried out river bed, whole seams of metal's simply waiting to be mined! And there, surveying this, and looking wide eyed and fearful at the coming of these short skeletal beings, was a large, scaled being on two legs.

Raises-Bones in that moment whispered a prayer to her lord that their words be understood, and spoke with a flowing lilt unto the native of this land.

"We mean no harm, friend" she said as the creatures strange language flowed off her tongue. Blessed be Kal and his wisdom and generosity for his loyal servants she thought "We come in peace bearing gifts from the god Kalvrankin from his holy Orchard. We have been blessed with much, good food, beautiful art, and a means to protect ourselves from the threats of this world. He has granted us a secomnd life when we fall, and magics that would astound your mind. He has commanded us to share these things and we do so happily, will you let me share them with you?"

The river-sifter looked at these strange beings and did not know what to do. She could see they were clearly the bones of the dead, somehow moving and even speaking. Yet they seemed to carry no weapons, since as skeletons, it was rather hard for them to conceal much. But she remembered what the priests had said. The children of Arkhos awaited the coming of another's children, and that, even with the Nightmare in the east, this duty was not rescinded. So she observed, ready to flee at first, until they, too, had taken stances that reflected hesitation. Perhaps, despite all the evidence to the contrary, the dead might not differ so from the living.

Imagine, then, her shock when these strange beings spoke as though native to Tollan! She dropped her sifting-vessel in surprise, which spilled some of its sand and metal-grains. "Are--are you--" She tried to collect herself, imitating the gestures of the priests, interlacing her fingers and forming a little triangle with her thumbs, centered over her heart. "I am Totli. If you have come from Elsewhere in peace, then you must meet the Voice of Arkhos and the others, in Tollan."

She looked down at the spilled sand and winced. It might take a while to get it all back into the container again. It was almost enough to distract her from the...unnerving nature of these beings. "I must beg your pardons, um, travellers, I have need of these sands to bring back into the city. If you, um, wish to walk with me, I can take you to the Pyramid of the Sun, where the priests are." She hesitated, then added, "It might, ah, might be wise to wait for me. We were attacked once, you see, some time ago, and it has made some among us...concerned about outsiders."

------------------

Tonalli thanked Arkhos, what seemed the thousandth time, for the steadfast companion she had found in Huitzilin, the captain of the city guard. He did not speak often, but he listened as well as anyone she had met, and that was often more her need. Over her years of service to Arkhos, she had seen many things and done many things, and she hoped she had done their Father proud. When the doubts rose, as doubts are wont to do, she turned to Huitzilin's moss-green face, and found solace--and, in time, love. Theirs was no whirlwind romance, no passionate inferno. No, they found love amid the sturdy stones of long-held friendship, and built from it a furnace to smelt through their troubles.

Thus it was to no surprise that, in time, the chosen Voice of Arkhos became heavy with egg, and her egg joined the clutch in the prestigious egg-chamber adjacent to the Pyramid of the Sun. A plain thing, the egg was not marked with color or symbolism, but even just gazing upon it, Tonalli felt the Gaze of Another alongside her own. What the Dawnbringer wished of her child, she did not know, but she hoped they, and she, would prove ready for it.

On the fateful day of the child's hatching, another fateful event. A shooting star, but this star did not fall beyond the horizon. Indeed, it crashed to earth just beyond the egg-chamber, starting a small fire in the forest outside. Even as Tonalli named and anointed her own child Yolotona, he whose heart shines like the sun, the workers were out with buckets and tools, hoping to prevent an outright forest fire with the impact. Yolotona stood, as is common for Quetzpal'in children, first looking to his mother, and then to the commotion outside.

The boy climbed down the stone steps of the incubating pool, as the rays of the noonday sun poured in through the skylight above. He walked with purpose, such clarity and focus that even Tonalli could not bring herself to speak against it, however much her maternal instincts railed against it. She did, however, follow the boy, as he went out into the forest, toward the fire. Eventually, he led his mother to the center of the now-doused blaze, where the strange, egg-like lump of metal lay, shattered and strewn. But in the largest fragment of that shattered shell, there was a weapon. It was not a knife. No Quetzpal'in could mistake this blade for a knife, with is stylized, leaflike curves. The boy did not touch the blade, but looked to his mother, as his father ran over to join them, having seen to the last of the bucket brigade.

"Alli? My love, what...what is it?"

"A gift from above."

"From Arkhos?" He looked shaken.

"I don't--" she began, before the boy shook his head.

Huitzilin bent forward, one hand on his son's shoulder, and lifted the blade by its hilt. He instantly felt two things. One, a cry for vengeance, for restitution, for righting what has been made wrong. And two....that the sword was not his to carry, only his to safekeep, until its true wielder was ready.

Yolotona looked deeply into his father's eyes, his ocean-blue eyes set against the deep green of his still-wet scales. My son...duty weighs on you, in the very hour of your birth. I will give you all I can. I pray it is enough.

Though this blade might not be from Arkhos, nor be for him, Huitzilin could see in it already the arts of war, the ways that the metals now coming to them could be shaped and honed. And in this, he did find a gift of Arkhos, though he only came to realize it later. For although the blade was of Arah'huana, through that blade, Arkhos ensured his children discovered the making of blades--and the making of armors to resist it.

------------------

Not all was so dire for the Quetzpal'in in those days. The priesthood continued to study the Codex Perpetuus, and in particular, a young priest began re-examining the meaning of some of the passages regarding the Solar Disk, its origin and nature. And when he did, he came to realize that it was possible for the Temoanih to replicate it, in lesser form, and in other forms besides. Far from being waste, the clean, fine sand collected by the sand-sifters could be used to glorify Arkhos and beautify the world both, if air, earth, and fire were brought together in right proportions.

Others, hearing of the priest's new art, began experiments of their own, learning to smooth and cast and blow the molten sand, learning the bleeding-sharp edges it made when broken, learning to grant it all colors of the rainbow. But the priest was not happy with such baubles, beautiful and praiseworthy though they were. He studied more carefully, and came to realize how this glass could do more than just beautify. It truly could reveal, and reflect, as the Solar Disk did. Mirrors and, in time, primitive lenses came from the Glassworks of Tollan, as did beautifully-colored glass windows and beads and all sorts of lovely articles to trade--and just in time for partners from other lands, across the sea, to find value in such baubles.

------------------

Arkhos descended upon the Pyramid of the Sun, and many of the Quetzpal'in gathered to hear his words, including Yolotona.

"Heed me, my children. Though my power ever shall remain with you, the time has come that I step forth from this world, and watch it from afar. But I shall not be distant to you, for I now shall honor the oath I swore, and close the circle of life."

The assembled folk waited with bated breath. Their Father was leaving? They had known his presence was more limited than before, more diffuse, but for him to be gone...what did that mean?

"I go now, my children, to the place where spirits dwell, after they have shed their bodies. I shall prepare a place for all my children, past and future, where they may go and find both solace and self-improvement. But I shall also work another wonder. Look upon this, your Pyramid, the proof of your labors and your independence, for I asked not that you make it, yet here it stands. Deep within the underbelly of this mountain you have made by your own hands, I shall bind this world to the world hereafter, that all who would seek my counsel may yet have it, and all who die without closure may yet find it."

"But, afore I do, I name one among you my Chosen, my Appointed, who shall work my will in my stead, now that I cannot walk the paths of this world without harming it and you." The golden circle flowed and twisted until it took the form of the Speaker of Light, descending on the assembled masses until it approached a single soul.

The boy looked up, his grey-green scales glimmering in the golden light. "You call me, Father?"

"Yes, I do. From this day forth, though you are Yolotona, in my eyes and upon my lips, you shall be Seth, for I have Appointed you in my stead."

The boy blinked, and frowned. "I am not ready, great Father."

"Then you shall make yourself ready, and you shall find aid and guidance--from me and from many others."

The boy nodded, and the Speaker of Light placed his glowing hands on the boy's shoulders. "Remember, Seth: what is built endures, and what is loved endures. You must now build yourself, so that what you love may endure."

The light of understanding entered Yolotona's eyes. "I understand."

"Then go, as I shall go. And I shall see you again, in the place where no shadows fall."

Thus in one day did Arkhos both name his Chosen, and lay down the afterlife of the Quetzpal'in, Tranquility and Triumph, shaped from the Wending by the power of the Living Map. And Seth, chosen-of-Arkhos, descended into the bowels of the Pyramid to find a great and shining gate, a perfect circle of light, across which spanned a bridge of what seemed darkness made solid, connecting the realm of the Living to the realm of the Dead. To the Quetzpal'in, it was called the Door of Day and Night.

Thus did the Epic of Seth begin.

Spoiler: AP Actions

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Current AP: 4

Bless: The Unyielding Heart (free, discounted by Solar Disk)
All Quetzpal'in are significantly more durable than should be physically possible. A fall from ten meters up is unlikely to cause more than bruises. They can lose more than half their blood volume and survive. Even multiple stab wounds are unlikely to do more than slow them down--and can usually be healed. It is possible for a lesser version of this blessing to be granted to a friend or ally, by choosing to become blood-brother or blood-sister with them, but this gift may only be given once, and must be given freely. The non-Quetzpal'in recipient becomes noticeably hardier, but never quite to the level that the Quetzpal'in giver is. This lesser, gifted version can potentially save someone's life if administered after injury rather than before, but the recipient still requires competent medical treatment to fully heal.

Create Monstrous Life: Tree-of-Life (free, discounted by the Arches)
Tree with many useful applications for all of its parts (edible things, oils, bark as fiber or straps, good wood, fragrant flowers for all of spring/summer), which is also preternaturally good for grafting. Any plant portion grafted to such a tree will grow well wherever Tree-of-Life grows, as though it were on its native soil. The Tree-of-Life grows best in tropical and temperate rainforest conditions, but can grow in most places that do not see heavy snowfall. Even if it normally would require pollination, grafts of fruit-bearing trees onto Trees-of-Life can produce edible fruit anyway. A single orchard can thus be designed such that it yields fresh fruit for most of the year, different fruits coming in season at different times. Its natural fruit is a distinctive, vivid blue, and contains an internal hard-shelled seed that is edible when roasted. The fruit tastes somewhere between peaches and blackberries.

Raise Hero (2 AP, Travel (Adventure)): Yolotona, he whose heart shines like the sun, is raised up as a Hero. His mission is not yet known, and he must improve his skills before he is ready to begin his journeys. But the mantle is upon him, even in the hour of his birth.

Teach Mundane Concept: Smithing (free birthday AP)

Create Mundane Concept: Glassmaking (free, discounted by the Codex)
Pretty much exactly what it says on the tin! The Quetzpal'in now decorate their temples with stained glass in addition to stonework decorations, and make both useful and beautiful things out of glass--vessels, beads, cups, dishes, and--most prized of all--things that can bend, reflect, and focus light, for they honor Arkhos' gift of the Sun to the world.

Alter Land: Tranquility and Triumph (free, discounted by the Living Map)
The Wending now has a place for Arkhos' flock to gather. It's a reasonably cool place to hang out. Evenly split between a place to relax and recover from the problems of one's mortal life, and a place to address one's deficiencies and grow as a person. It is not meant as a permanent resting-place, but for the time being it is the place people go to, and where Arkhos is hanging out now that he can't be on the First World.

Portal: Door of Day and Night. [Sun (Revelation) 10/10, acquired]
Connects T&T with a location underneath the Pyramid of the Sun. With its creation, Arkhos ascends, for now dwelling just on the other side of the portal. Ordinary mortals can request audiences and such, but in general, Arkhos encourages both the living and the dead to make peace with what has happened and move on.

Arkhos has acquired his fifth domain, Sun (Revelation), and is thus now a Lesser Deity. He can no longer walk on the First World except through avatars, which he does not have yet.
Remaining AP: 0

Domains acquired/in progress:
Magic (Rites) 10/10
War (Tactics) 10/10
Sun (Revelation) 10/10
Travel (Adventure) 2/10

**canjowolf** · 2021-09-25, 12:55 PM (ISO 8601)

Shadow Hill, The Garden

For some time now a city of Phihid had awaited their promised destiny, short lives passing by as the years rolled on. Finally, their wait was over, and their purpose could be realized. The gardeners came to Shadow's Hill, and donned the admixture of living and unliving. Pipes and plates of wrought copper, twisting vine, curling root, and living flower, shaped to fit as clothing. The Phihid of this armor had been grown and trained to protect the wear, by blocking the poisons of the jungle, or the cold of the Dark Land, or the scorching sun on the rolling waves, or the forceful flight of thrown stones as the case might be. Not as good at protecting against the metal blades of the Sligid as a suit of forged metal plates, they were adaptable families, who would grow in utility as the power of their host grew, and who could change their specialty as the seasons turned, and Phihid came and went.

Spoiler: AP

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6 AP Held
-4 AP: Create Mythical Concept: Living Armor - an armor of living Phihid and other materials focused on elemental protections. (Nature: Parasitism - Gain Domain)
Ascend from Demigod

**KragBrightscale** · 2021-09-25, 03:31 PM (ISO 8601)

Aggressive Neighbors - Military Advancements

Egg thieves, the very notion of it appalled the Rekexi who heard about them. Scaly cowards who avoided a good fight in favor of preying on the young and vulnerable. Such a lack of honor in ways determined the Velociraptors to forever remain an enemy of the Empire.

Brave warriors gathered near the jungle soon after the word was spread. What better way to earn recognition and achieve victories than waging war against these “egg thieves”.

The rulers of the reef were relieved to find an external outlet for all the pent up aggression. Perhaps this generation could be spared the bloodshed of civil war.

Like an angry swarm, a few hundred rekexi warriors broke up into teams of 10 and charged into the jungle to hunt down the egg thieves. Each warrior was armed with stone warhammers and they scuttled between the trees in search of their quarry.

It was, for the most part a fruitless endeavor as the beasts avoided direct confrontation, and the rekexi, better suited to the water soon tired from all their chasing. The only noteworthy discovery was a cleared area of the jungle where only stumps remained. It stood out like a sore thumb, and deserved proper exploration but that would come later.

Weary, and frustrated at the egg-thieves’ cowardliness and speed that made it hard to catch them, the warriors eventually turned around to head back. About halfway to the shore several teams came to a sudden halt. Beady eyes glared at them from behind the bushes as the egg-thieves finally revealed themselves.

At first the Rekexi warriors were excited at finally having a chance to strike down their quarry. The enthusiasm slowly dropped as more of the beasts kept emerging from the surrounding vegetation until they outnumbered the warriors more than 2 to 1.

It seemed the egg-thieves were not as afraid of things their own size as they were of the giant Sauropods. They just needed to gather a group larger than their prey before they considered a fight. With a screech they pounced on the Rekexi.

Fighting on land was not the same as fighting under water. Things happened much faster, and the rekexi could not make use of their powerful tails to propel themselves backwards, making it hard to dodge. Although some of the beasts had been successfully knocked back or sent tumbling by the warriors’ hammers, the situation quickly descended into a chaotic brawl.

While the rekexi were used to fighting each other, they had never faced any other enemies and that lack of experience was quickly showing. Rekexi usually targeted each other’s heads or abdomens with their hammers, to crush their enemies exoskeletons, but the beasts seemed to focus their attacks on the shrimpfolk’s vulnerable limbs, incapacitating a number of warriors before the Rekexi could adapt.

The battle was over almost as quick as it had begun, and the beasts dragged the fallen warriors and severed limbs off into the bushes. The battle had been overwhelmingly in the favor of the beasts, and the few Rekexi survivors were appalled at their disastrous losses against what should have been an easy opponent.

The large packs of egg thieves wiped out three teams of warriors, and if they hadn’t been satisfied with the number of prey, the fourth team to be attacked would have not had any survivors.

Gathering up all the survivors and regrouping with the other teams, the Rekexi retreated back into the sea. Limbs could be regenerated over a few molts, but the wound to the Empire’s pride cut deep. It was clear that the empire’s military tactics had stagnated and become obsolete, much to the despair of the army’s generals.

Having failed to bring change and avoid stagnation, many military leaders were stripped of their rank and executed. The bloody ceremony was hosted by the Catalytic Council, who petitioned the Lord of the Tide to usher in change. The Divine Conch was brought out and it’s clear tone was heard beneath the waves once more. Even the mysterious giant pearl was brought out.

The change from life to death was one of the largest changes mortals would ever experience, and it was therefore one of the most important ways the Catalytic Council used to request the Divine Crab to bestow its power of change. The Cult and the Council quickly came to an agreement, where sacrifices would first be brought to the Council to be killed, then their bodies offered to the deep.

A thrum of power indicated the sacrifice had been accepted. The elders in charge of the pearl gasped in shock as the pearl turned transparent and revealing a moving imagine inside it. Legions of Shrimpfolk soldiers could be seen within the pearl, armed not with hammers but with long pointed objects and wide protective sea shells. Fighting and marching together in perfectly matched unison, the image captured the attention of all who watched it until the pearl faded back to its previous appearance.

Arriving at the scene while riding in her giant clam, the rising star of the empire revealed some more good news. A number of large clams had been washed into a lagoon by a sudden shift in the ocean currents, all containing strangely shaped pearls. While none of those pearls were useful as they were, someone had managed to grind one to give it an edge, creating a tool useful for cutting kelp and fish alike.

The attention of the empire was split in two as the military focused of training the troops using sticks and large shells to form a phalanx, while the production teams experimented with the clams to create numerous objects out of the pearly material.

Pearlite as it became called was an unusual material to the Rekexi. Being both strong and heavy like rock, yet not as brittle. There was a slight flexibility to it that surprised the craftsmen allowing for the creation of long thin objects without fear of breaking.

Soon the rekexi military was ready to get its revenge for the humiliating defeat at the hands of mere beasts.

One hundred of the finest warriors assembled on the beach, each armed with exquisite Pearlite spears and round clam shields. The centurion commander relayed their orders as the soldiers shifted positions and assumed various formations. Nearby were several members of the Cult and the Council who could wield strange eldritch powers. It was time to strike back.

Terrestrial Sea Wraiths - Trihorns - Unexpected Attack

As the military was focused on the threat of the terrestrial beasts, the Sea Wraiths had been working on another project. Expanding their range of operations to the land.

Using their giant octopi, they managed to capture several of the trihorns that came to soak in the shallows. These large amphibious beasts were generally docile unless their eggs or young were threatened, when they would charge and impale egg thieves with their prominent central horn.

Nicknamed Sea Cows, the milk produced by these rotund beasts was thicker and slightly salty compared to that produced by regular cows. Grazing on both shrubs on the shore and kelp in the sea, they quickly became important to Rekexi cuisine as their flavorful fatty meat and rich salty milk grew in popularity.

Controlling a herd of Trihorns was relatively easy for the Sea Wraiths. The alphas and other leaders of the herd were possessed and bonded while the others just followed their lead.

At the request of the military, the Sea Wraiths contributed a few Trihorns and their controllers to assist in hunting down the egg thieves. Using their size and horns to crush and clear small bushes and trees to clear a path for the warriors.

The operation was going smoothly until one of their possessed beasts was attacked by surprise. What seemed to be sharpened sticks or miniature spears rained down on the Trihorn piercing into its fatty hide. While most of the arrows didn’t cause much more than pain, the Rekexi possessing felt the pain directly and it panicked.

Controlling the beasts to charge towards where the projectiles seemed to come from, the Rekexi was determined to return the pain manifold. Crashing through trees and trampling bushes the large Trihorn was slowly turning into a pincushion.

The last thing the rekexi saw through the eyes of the Tricorn were odd creatures holding weird objects. They looked a little like an octopus, but had large arms and were perched on even stranger moving sticks. With a sudden twang, a sharp stick pierced though the Tricorn’s eye killing it instantly.

Pain worse than anything it had experienced before overwhelmed the Rekexi’s senses as it’s spirit was violently severed from the body it possessed. For a brief moment the spirit drifted lost as the Wending started pulling on it like all other spirits of the deceased. Before the spirit departed the world completely, it was tugged sharply in another direction.

The Rekexi’s body, which was spasming out of control, sucked its drifting spirit back. Suddenly back in its body the rekexi let out a scream of bubbles shocking the attendants that had been assigned to care for the bodies of the Sea Wraiths while they were controlling their creature partners.

The military was soon informed of another dangerous enemy that roamed the jungle: octopus faced apes.

Spoiler: AP actions

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AP: 4 + 4 (rollover)

Bless (Exchange for Change) -1 AP
Kraxichit is pleased when change is made in its name, and encourages individuals who contribute to the fight against stagnation by bestowing magical abilities on them. These are not limited to the rekexi, but generally the abilities awarded to those not completely devoted to the Lord of the Tides are minor ones. (Abilities vary but in general should be flavored to suit Kraxichit’s domains (and eldritch in nature) and help in furthering its goal of bringing change.)
Change (Mutation) 1/10

Create Mundane Concept (Phalanx) -0 AP (artifact use: pearl of wisdom)
Highly disciplined troops, walls of shields and deadly spears. Fighting as an organized cohesive unit rather than individuals, this represents a major advancement in the Krillix empire’s military.
(No portfolio gain due to free)

Bless (Pearlite + Pearlite clams) -0 AP (artifact use: Conch of Change)
Mutated clams whose insides conform and adapt to objects placed in them. Once they’ve adapted, their void can be filled with a variety of mineral and organic matter to create a Pearlite object with the same shape as a void. Pearlite is the aquatic alternative to metal (though it is in actuality not a metal) The qualities of the resulting material depends on the “ingredients” used/fed to the clam.
no portfolio gain due to free

Create Monstrous Race (Trihorns / Sea Cows) -1 AP
Large grazing beasts that look like a mutated blend of cows, rhinos, hippos, and manatees. Amphibious, they spend as much time grazing on shrubs on land as they do eating kelp and aquatic plants. Usually docile, but they will charge and impale any who threaten their young or eggs with their large central horn. (Horn configuration: think cow + unicorn)
Disaster (Sea Monsters) 9/10

Teach mundane concept (animal husbandry) -1 AP
A natural development from raising fish, clams and other aquatic life, keeping herds of Trihorns is the next step forward for the empire’s food production industry.
Change (Fermentation) 1/10

AP remaining: 8 -1 -1 -1 = 5

Spoiler: TLDR

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-Rekexi warriors lose fight against pack of velociraptors.
-Rekexi develop Phalanxes and switch to using spears and shields.
-Pearlite, the aquatic alternative to metal is introduced (special clams).
-Trihorns (aka sea cows) are introduced and domesticated by rekexi Sea Wraiths
-Octopus faced apes (sligs) declared as potential dangerous enemies

**MrAbdiel** · 2021-09-25, 06:22 PM (ISO 8601)

Brumation

Moving undetectably through the Wending, Arah-Huana enters a period of restrained activity. His convulsions of creative power leave his divine corpus drained; but not damaged. As he settles into his strange rest, with the warmth of foreign divinities warping the realm in small portions for the eternal enshrinement of their people, he permits himself to feel a little satisfaction.

All things considered... it's going quite well.

Meanwhile, the undulating quasi-sapient susurrus known as the Midwife of Blades feeds itself in the Perdition Sluice from which it is eternally replenished. The child of her design is smaller, this time; a dagger, wickedly curved, made of the same extraplanar ur-metal that the other Fangs of Arah-Huana are made of. This one emerges from its production with a dull blue glimmer to its edge. This is not a feature, but a flaw - or so thinks the Midwife, who understands little but follows her directions with absolute precision; and in the act of lashing that glimmer away with a tongue of her own coiled soulish power, she believes she is hiding something successfully from the old snake... But he knows.

Shaken free from the godsteel, the glimmer arks off into the stream of souls, and is delivered by their flow into the void around the First World, where they settle in the night. Their true purpose is unrevealed, but their rudimentary purpose becomes a quick boon to sailors and wanderers. Too mild to be seen in the light of Kairos' greater revelation, these sparks - these stars - are landmarks in the sky for skilled navigators, and a source of no small superstition in others.

Spoiler: AP Spends:

Show

Create Artifact (Minor Combat) - 2 AP, discounted from Midwife of Blades. 4/10 Darkness (Ambush)

Ashur, The Dividing Star, the Second Fang of Arah-Huana

Small and wickedly curved, this karambit might easily be mistaken for a weapon of less stellar potency. Its true features remain undiscovered; but for now, it benefits from the other blessings on the Fangs of Arah-Huana.

Bless - 0 AP, discounted from Perdition Sluice.

Stars, the Nomad's Lights

The night sky is, over the course of two weeks, slowly populated by a host of glittering blue sparks the world will come to know as stars. Their purposes are manifold. They inspire art, and joy in nocturnal viewers. They fill stargazers with a sense of the otherworldly greatness for the realms beyond their own. Their predictable, year-long cycles of minor changes permit skilled observers to know the time of year, and their direction in relation to the first world for the purposes of navigation. But their greatest purpose - the one that will cause the most tumult - is presently concealed, so that no god may feel compelled to oppose their manufacture.

Metaphysically speaking, the stars are actually weakpoints in the 'space' around the wending that correspond to places in the void - the 'space' around the first world. The stars themselves are surging knots of soul energy, forever being fed and bled by the Perdition Sluice. A mortal explorer shooting through the void would find that individual stars disappear as he approaches their location in the void - as one draws proximately close to them in the real world, they become, bizarrely, too far away to see through the veil of realms. Thus, stars cannot be visited or touched from the void side; though enterprising astronomers will discover with confusion that, for example, from Voicury, their are stars that overlay the First World proper, which are too close to be seen by the dwellers there.

**moonfly7** · 2021-09-26, 09:36 AM (ISO 8601)

Metal In the Forge

It had been long since Kalvrankin first felt the push of metal falling from the heavens, and first felt the hammer strike his flesh and mold it with fire into something new. He had been alone then, in the dark, unseen by any. He had felt it happen above ground, two gods, molding metal, and unknowingly molding him. Their creations, their creativity with his divinly given material, his cast off flesh, was all that kept him from succumbing to the boredom of his entrapment.

Again later he felt Rend and Right mold and push a soul that had strayed from him, into something better. Stronger, harder. ANd he kenw once again they had improved what he had given to the world.

And now, after having been distracted and put off for so long, he had finally come to meet them. He had been visiting his people in the Gloam, a smile on his metal jaw, and had gone for a pleasant walk when he felt the familiar push of their changing, and heard the clang of hammers. Wandering into the Forge of Hearts was, for most, an accident. But for a god such an action was anything but.

"Ah, twin smiths!" he cried with a jovial smile "We finally meet!"

A Helping (Skeletal) Hand

Spoiler: The River Sifter

Show

The river-sifter looked at these strange beings and did not know what to do. She could see they were clearly the bones of the dead, somehow moving and even speaking. Yet they seemed to carry no weapons, since as skeletons, it was rather hard for them to conceal much. But she remembered what the priests had said. The children of Arkhos awaited the coming of another's children, and that, even with the Nightmare in the east, this duty was not rescinded. So she observed, ready to flee at first, until they, too, had taken stances that reflected hesitation. Perhaps, despite all the evidence to the contrary, the dead might not differ so from the living.

Imagine, then, her shock when these strange beings spoke as though native to Tollan! She dropped her sifting-vessel in surprise, which spilled some of its sand and metal-grains. "Are--are you--" She tried to collect herself, imitating the gestures of the priests, interlacing her fingers and forming a little triangle with her thumbs, centered over her heart. "I am Totli. If you have come from Elsewhere in peace, then you must meet the Voice of Arkhos and the others, in Tollan."

She looked down at the spilled sand and winced. It might take a while to get it all back into the container again. It was almost enough to distract her from the...unnerving nature of these beings. "I must beg your pardons, um, travellers, I have need of these sands to bring back into the city. If you, um, wish to walk with me, I can take you to the Pyramid of the Sun, where the priests are." She hesitated, then added, "It might, ah, might be wise to wait for me. We were attacked once, you see, some time ago, and it has made some among us...concerned about outsiders."

"We do come in peace" Who-Raises said with a smile "And in friendship. We have sailed long these many months to reach this place, and walked across much empty land as well in the last few weeks. We can easily wait a little more. But come, let us help you gather your sand!"
And so saying, She-Who-Raises-Bone pulled her Necromancers tool of office from her back, a stylized Bronze shovel, edge trimmed in "decorative" silver that glowed slightly. And she set to work helping the Quet'zpatlin.

Shaking his head at his partners exuberance, Who-Searches produced a sift and a spade from his wide workers apron, and shifted his own tool of office as a Master Temper of the circle, a sledgehammer of duel ends, one bronze, one silver, onto the sandy beach of the river. It took only a moment of hiw own kneeling for who searches to realize what was in the sand.

"Oh, there's metal in this dust." he turned to the native of this land who they now worked beside "I assume then, that you can work and smelt it? Clever indeed, turning dust into ingots. Impressive ingenuity."

**Kinro** · 2021-09-26, 11:03 AM (ISO 8601)

While the sauropods were glad and excited about these new, small thinking beings that had stepped onto their shore, they were also concerned. They had been completely unknown, gone unnoticed until one went right up to the-sauropod-who-had-first-met-a-different-thinking-being. Even worse, he had tried taking her over. What if he had succeeded? What if it intentions had been malicious and his capacities equal to it? No, this would not do. This land was their land, created for them by Valnas themselves. This was the one place where sauropods should feel safe. And so, as some prepared for the meeting with the new being they had encountered, others worked on something new, new kinds of magic that would allow them to see without seeing, to be where they weren't.

While developing and using their new powers, the sauropod thought mages were surprised to find that, already, other thinking minds were present on their lands, ones that didn't share a form with that of the one that the-sauropod-who-had-first-met-a-different-thinking-being had met. And so, a delegation was sent to one of those groups, a tribe leader, a thought mage and one other, to find what these other people wanted with this land and its people.

Spoiler: AP

Show

Rollover X 2
3 + 8 = 11

Create Mythic Subconcept (Projection)

By projecting their thoughts away from them, a thought mage is able to in places away from them. The more powerful the mage and the more energy expended, the further they can place themselves. And this outside seeing can move fast, much faster than any being possibly could. However, while seeing away they cannot also see where they are.

11 - 2 = 9

Create Mythic Subconcept (Though-sense)

By making themselves extra sensitive to the thoughts of others, a though-mage is able to detect the presence of outside minds, to count them and to know their location and their power. The more powerful the mind, the easier they are to detect. Sauropods and thought mages are easiest, though other thinking beings are not far behind.

9 - 2 = 7

**canjowolf** · 2021-09-27, 10:05 PM (ISO 8601)

The Phihid were adaptive creatures, intelligent and short lived, they reached for the future through their offspring. With the arrival of seafaring, the future was wide open. New climates to explore and exploit. New peoples with whom to meet and trade, if the sligs were anything to judge by. New crops to grow in the new lands. The Reaching Isles, stretching off towards the other hospitable continents, were much less savage than the jungles of Garden. This lack of competition and the soils of the islands led to the growth of large fields of spices and herbs of all descriptions. Even the smelly ones that the slig seemed to like to burn. As each island had a slightly different climate, different plants were dominant on different ones. Sweet spices, bitter spices, hot spices, herbs to kill pain, herbs to improve alertness, herbs to enter the Dream. The phihid of each island adapted to their homelands as well. Scaring sea birds. Splitting salt and water. Resisting the temptation to cast their seed into the ocean, that they might go into the water, to live there, die there, and transform.

And as they grew and adapted to the islands, so too did they grow and adapt to seafaring, growing light nets to catch the breeze. To contract and twist the sail like muscle. To build roots which knew when to bend to the power of the mighty wind, and when to exploit its roar. With the speed of sail, the gardeners and the phihid traveled along the coasts, leaving net-tables with offering of herbs and spices, and empty tables, hungry and waiting. Those who placed offerings on the empty net tables recieved further visits. Those tables which remained empty were left as a sign, their lonely, hungry story shared with other mariners. To mark their coming, the gardeners built bonfires on the coasts when they set their tables, and burned the herbs that the sligs so loved.

In this way, the bright, flowery sails could soon be seen on any coast with eyes to see.

Spoiler: AP

Show

2 held + 5 gained = 7
-1 Mundane Concept - Sailing (War - Cunning)
-1 Mundane Concept - Commerce (Trade - Enabling)
-1 Mundane Concept - Agriculture (Trade - Enabling)
-1 Alter Land: The Reaching Island plantations (Trade - Enabling)

**ezekielraiden** · 2021-10-01, 02:04 AM (ISO 8601)

Spoiler: A Helping (Skeletal) Hand

Show

Originally Posted by moonfly7

A Helping (Skeletal) Hand

"We do come in peace" Who-Raises said with a smile "And in friendship. We have sailed long these many months to reach this place, and walked across much empty land as well in the last few weeks. We can easily wait a little more. But come, let us help you gather your sand!"
And so saying, She-Who-Raises-Bone pulled her Necromancers tool of office from her back, a stylized Bronze shovel, edge trimmed in "decorative" silver that glowed slightly. And she set to work helping the Quet'zpatlin.

Shaking his head at his partners exuberance, Who-Searches produced a sift and a spade from his wide workers apron, and shifted his own tool of office as a Master Temper of the circle, a sledgehammer of duel ends, one bronze, one silver, onto the sandy beach of the river. It took only a moment of hiw own kneeling for who searches to realize what was in the sand.

"Oh, there's metal in this dust." he turned to the native of this land who they now worked beside "I assume then, that you can work and smelt it? Clever indeed, turning dust into ingots. Impressive ingenuity."

Totli was unsure exactly what to make of these skeletons, but they were quite friendly. Their "smiles" were more than a little unnerving, but they freely offered their aid. Their tools were also quite useful. She made a mental note that, if the family could spare enough, she would have to ask about getting tools like these of her own. Nothing so decorated, of course.

Turning to Who-Searches, she said, "Oh, I do not know the art myself, but my sister, Ilhuitl, has learned of it. She makes smaller, beautiful things, with metal, leather, and glass. Look here, this was a hatching-day gift she made for me." Totli brought the final third of her tail, to hold steady before the skeleton visitors. A fine mazatl-leather band, decorated with golden wires holding glass beads in several colors, arranged very roughly like a rainbow. "My sister loves the many colors of the glass, and how the pure light of Kairos divides into such beautiful hues. But come, you have made swift work of collecting the sand, and now I can take you to the city and the Pyramid, where you will find the Voice."

This dry river was not too far beyond the edge of the city, where the few buildings of wood began to mingle with sturdy constructions of stone. Soon, the dirt path gave way to paving stones, and the lines of a place built to purpose. The streets were filled with greenery, both gardens tended by the residents and public spaces. Many Quetzpal'in showed concern at the appearance of these skeletal guests, but Totli was known to them, having walked this path many times--so the citizens did little more than stare.

From nearly any intersection, the peak of the Pyramid of the Sun could be seen, slowly growing larger. "Have you ever seen its like?" Totli asked, trying for some friendly conversation. "We Quetzpal'in have only just begun to travel to other islands, seeking new knowledge and new lands, but I doubt there is in all the world a sight quite like the mountain we built to honor our Father, the Dawnbringer."

The Hero's Grasp

Seth, the child named champion by his god, grew swiftly from the day Arkhos ordained him. Rare was the turning of the moon wherein he did not visit the Door of Day and Night, passing alive into the hereafter. Always, he listened to the teachings of Arkhos, but also he listened to those who had taken the longer road to reach Tranquility and Triumph. Like his mother, he had the boldness of spirit to act; but like his father, he had the sharp ear and careful tongue to listen.

Near the coming of his Day of Rising, as he prepared for the ritual climb that symbolized the gift of enlightenment granted for their ascent, he lingered among those who rested in Tranquility, hearing their stories. As he did, minutes drew into hours, and the time of his lesson with his deity passed.

Arkhos, as the Speaker of Light, came forth from the place where his spirit dwelt in that realm, seeking the young man. "Seth, why have you tarried here? Have you not come to learn?"

Though Tranquility and Triumph were less gloomy than much of the Wending, they were still less well-lit than the sunny shores of Anahuac. Under such dim lights, the mossy green of Seth's scales looked almost black, and only barely reflected back the glow of the lizard-shaped light. "I have come to learn, my Lord, but I have seen there is much to learn here, as well as at Your side."

"Tell me of these things you have learned."

Seth said his goodbyes to the spirits he had been conversing with, who pulled away, giving the boy space. Turning back to Arkhos, he said, "I have learned that death, though it comes for all that live, does not come the same. Some live full, and in death are content. Others..." His face darkened. "Others have their spark cruelly snuffed out, by chance or by choice, and do not rise, not for lack of desire, but for lack of opportunity."

The lizard-shaped light nodded. "This is correct. There are many who die, yet merit life."

"This should not be." There was a strange finality in the boy's voice. Not a claim needing proof; a bedrock certainty, as sure as the sun shines.

"Then what shall you do about it?"

Seth paused for a long time, and both Arkhos and the spirits in that place waited. They did not breathe, but if they did, bated their breath would have been, spirit and divinity alike. Finally, Seth said, "I will listen. And I will speak. And I will fight. Not for me. For them."

"Then go, and take the weapon your father has held in trust for you these years. You are almost ready to begin. The day of your Rising shall also be the first day of your Journey. And with your blade in hand, you will right the wrongs, and see justice done."

**Zelphas** · 2021-10-01, 09:08 PM (ISO 8601)

In Deep

It had taken longer than expected to put everything in place, but now all was ready. Even the tunnel above would eventually fall into the depths, helped along by a horde of small things who lived only to rise and fall again. Now, it was time to reach out, and begin bringing things in.

First, reconnecting with the First World. The portal there was at the bottom of the Beckoning Deep, a mobile spot of faint light that traveled slowly back and forth along the length of the great abyss. With this connection, the air and water stilled once more, lulled back to calm by the Call. At the other end, it is a static hole at the very top of Deep, pouring water in a ribbon down to the bottom. For now, the water is a heavy geyser, a massive swell; the oceans of the First World are vast, but a hole has opened at their bottom, and it is beginning to pull in everything it can.

Next, a questing connection is made to a Plane that already has many connections itself. Manifesting as a small, innocuous cave mouth upon an island in the Wellspring, the opening leads to a twisting tunnel that opens upon Deep roughly half-way down the great funnel. There is no way up from there; the only routes are back and down, and once one has chosen to go down, their is no more up.

For now, that will be enough. More work is needed.

Spoiler: AP Actions

Show

1 AP + 5 AP = 6 AP

Create Monsters (Rockwurms) -1 AP: Looking like Landeaters in extreme miniature, Rockwurms are native to Deep and spend most of their life burrowing through the rocky walls of the cylinder, subsisting on the minerals found therein. These creatures are the only ones (so far) who can break the rules of Deep, moving up or down with equal impunity. Once a Rockwurm reaches maturity, it tunnels to the nearest surface, sprouts wings, and flies up, searching for the most precarious perch it can find. It digs its ring of teeth into the perch and transmutes instantly to stone, growing much heavier as a result. Either the perch breaks or the Rockwurm's stone teeth do, sending it plummeting downwards, where it shatters--releasing 3-12 more larval Rockwurms to begin tunneling once again. Humanoids are generally more precarious than stone. (Domain Progression: Decay (Patience) 2/10)

Create Portal (Deep to First World) -2 AP: The portal is as described above; at the bottom of the Beckoning Deep and the top of Deep, respectively. On both sides, the portal is currently about fifty feet in diameter. It takes in everything it touches for the moment. (Domain Progression: Decay (Patience) 4/10)

Curse (Drain at the Bottom of the World) -0 AP (Pit of Hunger)): The Portal between the First World and Deep is currently at the bottom of super-compressed water and is fifty feet in diameter; water is flowing out of it, and fast. It might not be immediately noticeable to the mortals, but the gods (especially Kraxichit) may be more aware of the implications.

Create Bridge (Deep to the Wellspring): An unassuming cave mouth on an island in the Wellspring leads to Deep through a twisty tunnel comprising both worlds. The tunnel slopes slightly but steadily downwards, and some of Deep's power is present here; it is harder to walk up out of the tunnel than down into it, but not impossible to do so. (Domain Progression: Decay (Patience) 6/10)

6 AP - 5 AP = 1 AP Remaining

**ezekielraiden** · 2021-10-02, 05:33 AM (ISO 8601)

With Seth attending to his final preparations before his Journey, Arkhos remained among the dead of the Wending, dwelling on what had sent them there. Their pain, their regrets. Far from the intent that went into this place--both his own and that of the plane's creator--he did not come to terms with the events that had come before his ascension. Indeed, they only intensified, with his inability to directly access the First World making the irritation more like a droning sound, inaccessible but never steady enough to become inured to.

Direct action was not available...but perhaps indirect would do.

First, to deal with the preternatural mist. If Tahr'Thua should mock him for the dependencies of his creations, whyever should he not do the same in kind? Thus did he reach out his hand, and invest with resplendent vigor, warmth and light, the very stuff of the First itself. Even the ice and snow of the First World would no longer be friend to that frigid place. No longer would the First World be merely dragged by predatory mists into a howling cage of death. No, these so-called "predators"--who fed only upon those so graciously fed to them by their master--would learn well the price of such theft, when the land itself challenged the very cold upon which they depend.

Second, the matter of preparation. The Codex continued to serve its function well, teaching and guiding, but more was needed now. His children had mastered the use of glass, and now needed to look further and farther, to see higher and deeper than they had before. Again he sent forth his power, and created a wonder like unto glass, but of divine light: a pane, in size and shape ever-changing to fit where it was needed, ever seeking to be where its perspective was needed, through which one would see not the world as it was, but the world as it could be. He sent forth his power, and the Lambent Lamina began to do its work.

And for the Temoanih, the first things seen through it were an ideal of structure, of order. But not a structure of wood or stone or any physical thing. A structure of people, ideas, and skill. Many and varied were the skills they had learned, skills of making and mending, farming and fighting, tending and training. By the guidance of the shepherd to the stars in the dark, they learned to collect their people in Guilds: the Stoneworkers, the Glassmakers, the Metalsmiths, the Beastmasters, the Leaftenders, and more besides.

Meanwhile, the curious among them began to delve deep into the Codex for the meaning of the strange new lights in the nighttime sky. For so long, the night had been a clear and empty black, altered only by the passing of the two-colored moon. Though answers as to the meaning of these strange lights, these "stars," proved elusive, answers as to what purpose they could be used for were more readily available. From the difference between these fixed stars and the motions of Kairos and the moon, they learned the precision clockwork of the world--and marvelled at the intricacy of the design, seeing how each part fit into every other. From this, the first truly precise calendar was born.

Spoiler: AP actions

Show

Bless (free, reduced by Solar Disk): Humus Vitae
The stuff of the First World--the remnants of the Titanic forebears--carries still the spark of their essence, now quickened by Arkhos' blessing. This is no magic power that can be exploited, merely an omnipresent energy. However, when any part of the First World, even its ice and snow, is taken elsewhere, such as via the Predatory Mists, that energy of life and light lingers, and begins leaking out around it--making parts of Hvittmaudh (or any other plane that exchanges material with the First World) more First-World-like. Places of natural ice and snow obviously change Hvittmaudh the least, but even they may ameliorate the bitter chill and spread light and life into dead places.

Create GUA of Advanced Concept (4 AP, reduced by Loom of Light): the Lambent Lamina [Travel (Adventure) 6/10]
A traveling vision-window. Through it, individuals see the potential world--and often ways to bring that potential about. Or, perhaps, they may see opportunities they have missed, or distant lands yet unexplored. Though the Lamina is primarily a tool of teaching, it is at heart a tool of inspiration, prompting mortals to seek out new things.

Advanced Concept (1 AP, discounted by Lambent Lamina): Guilds [Nobility (Virtue) 1/10]
The Temoanih Tonameyoh have learned to organize themselves into groups based on common skills and focuses, and through these groups, pass on the wisdom and skill of one generation to build up the next, and to seek out the most talented individuals--regardless of species or origin--to receive these teachings. Knowledge belongs to all, the guilds are merely a structure to ensure that that knowledge survives to enrich the future.

Mundane Concept (free, discounted by Codex): Calendar
Exactly what it says on the tin.

Other artifacts going unused this week.

In-progress domains:
Travel (Adventure) 6/10
Nobility (Virtue) 1/10

**canjowolf** · 2021-10-02, 09:29 AM (ISO 8601)

Hvittmaudh, The Fields of Patience

Long had there been Phihid in the cold and barren world of Hvittmaudh, but it was a harsh place and the Phihid had been relegated to basic survival, able to do little more than meditate in the sun, burrow root through stone and and ice, and endure the harsh climate in waxy stupor. Yet now there was a new infusion of life and light. Of warmth and energy. With this small boost, parts of the Hvittmaudh bloomed into black fields of Phihid and their servitor plants. The Hvittmaudh was still a cold, dark realm, unlike the hot steamy jungles of Garden, and the Phihid who survived there were patient and ruthless. There was not the energy to fight a constant war of evolution, so the Phihid relied on large communities across the field, watching for intruders and sharing resources. Ostracizing the foolish and the disruptive, cutting them off from the support networks of their neighbors and leaving them to wither alone.

The Gardeners came to call these places the Fields of Patience, as to run or fight in these places would lead to death by poison. When the Phihid noticed movement in their fields, or were crushed or harmed or eaten, they would release soporific spores to pull animalistic life into a dream-filled slumber from which they would not awaken. The dream priests of the fields might enter the dreams of such beings to talk to them or extract news and stories of the world, or perhaps to bargain away information or the treasures of the field. Beings who moved slowly and were careful not to step on or otherwise interfere with the Phihid could move through the fields relatively safely, only having to deal with the residual effects of the poison blooms gently luring them to sleep.

Too cold for rot, when creatures died in the field the Phihid burrow into the corpses to extract nutrients and seek out treasures to lure more prey. Weapons, warm clothes, tools for making fire, the illusion of shelter from the wind. These would be spared and slowly pushed to the surface. As creatures came to take advantage of these treasures, the Phihid would take them too, until the aristocracy of the Phihid came to inhabit small hillocks in the black fields, their power base built on literal piles of corpses.

Spoiler: AP

Show

3 held
-1 Alter Land - Change a portion of the Hvittmaudh to a black field of grasses and flowers and Phihid, known in Gardener myth as the Fields of Patience

**Feathersnow** · 2021-10-04, 05:12 AM (ISO 8601)

SLINGID
THE COMING OF PONTIFEX

The Combine was devastated by the realization their god had left them to their own devices.

They screamed into the void, and prayed, and sacrificed, but, for generations, the Grand Sawyer was silent.

And the Sligs thrived anyway. Their colonies grew, the relations between Slin-Thirthu and The Combine normalized, and the expatriate hive in the consecrated land in Abdita acted as brokers to lands no Slig walker had ever stalked.

In the land of the Sauropods, fighting was common, but both Rekexi and Slig had a treaty to ensure neither side was enslaved or extirpated. This was based on the Slig calendar. Every Seventeen years, all territorial claims were reverted and all slaves were freed.

This was a lifetime to a Rekexi and only a little time to a Slig, so in time, Sligs decided they would not return to their Queen when their bonds were loosed, better to be honored elders among the conquerors then the least among the free.

By the same token, most freed Rekexi had no frame of reference for their ancestral people, and would rather remain among the calm and meritocratic Sligs.

This intermixing only led to more interminable warfare, as neither side could even agree which borders would be reverted because no settlement was pure.

And, as the first of the Prepared joined their god in the Golden City, Slingid knew he had done well.

So, in his wisdom, he decided complete withdrawal wasn't truly necessary, now his people had proven they could survive without him.

So, one day, when the spokesworkers of The Te'ivosks and the Duma met together before the Kzairra, She-Who-Is-Ever-A-Part, Slingid sent his plenupotentiary, a being like unto a great vulture

Greetings to the Queens and Workers of the Combine, chosen people of Slingid! I am sent on his behalf. You have prospered through this test he has set you, and you are to be rewarded!

Know I am a tool of Divine Will, and I am empowered to act as an agent of the Combine, to enforce the dictates of She-Who-Is-Ever-A-Part when countersigned by the Te'ivosks and the Duma. Also, on occasion, as now, I will bring you gifts, eggs from the Condor Sequoia in the Golden City, where the Honored Dead live with our maker. These eggs hatch into great ideas that will change the world!

And then the bird disappeared and a new memory blossomed in the minds of all Sligs, like the power of True Tempered Tumbaga had passed it on, though no mortal had held this secret before.

And thus... Slingid gifted mathematics to the world. And at that same time, the Preparing Knife, long dormant, created new things as well: the first scale and the first ruler.

The Sligs had no written language of their own, but merchants had long been exposed to the concept from the Al-Kitab, and many Sligs were literate, though transliteration of The High Speech was considered taboo. So it was no great task to begin to use the symbols Slingid had gifted them to count and divvy.

Spoiler: AP actions

Show

0+10

Create mundane concept- Jubilee
Ap 1
Every 17 years, all debts are forgotten, all slaves freed, and all conquests ransomed or returned. In theory.
Law (Elegance) 1/10
Create Avatar- The Pontifex.
3AP
This being is a construct that exists to deliver gifts from Slingid and enact the will of the combined government of the Combine.
Evil (greed) 5/10

Create Greater Utility Artifact of Create Advanced Concept- The Condor Sequoia
5 AP

This sacred Borametz tree in The Golden City in the Wending fruits eggs that hatch into visions of great knowledge.
Evil (Greed) 10/10

Create advanced concept- Mathematics
AP 1(reduced by artifact)
The use of numbers.
Law (Elegance) 2/10

Create mundane concept- measurement
Artifact Use
The counting and abstraction of amounts of non-discrete objects

Create Mythic Society- The City at the Bsse of The Peak
1 AP (shared)
This is a group of diplomatic consulates for every society in the multiverse that would come
Law (Elegance) 3/10

**Gunhaven** · 2021-10-05, 08:50 PM (ISO 8601)

The Birth of a God
It was a subtle thing, the coming of the being known as Ten Thousand Toilers. A slight shift in the movement of water striders, a change in tone among crickets, an uptick in ants and termites working. It was largely ignored by others since the Titans were first bound within each other. But as those mighty beings called gods started to leave the First World the insects began to grow more fevered in their actions. They coalesced in the dark parts of the forest on an unassuming island on the edge of the Drum.

Chakta had no grand form to take. Instead the first melding of disparate hives worked together and slowly began to explore their new home. A generation of living side by side passed as they observed the other creatures of their home and subtly the hives became one. The sound of crickets became their voice, the hard shells of beetles formed their armor, and ants formed their skeleton. They explored their island home until they found a race without purpose.

Those Touched by the Toilers
They were Halessian as Chakta understood their chats around fire, created by an orb served by stone, and left to their own devices. The problem was that they had no drive, no purpose, and simply survived on their island home. The Ten Thousand Toilers took pity on the first group they found and, through the chittering of their crickets, imparted knowledge and purpose on the small gathering. These would be known as the Mchwa, those who grew and brewed in the name of the Cultivated Cauldron.

The Mchwa spent many cycles learning from the hive of insects until they could turn the bounty of the forest into something that would provide more than simple roasted meat on a stick. Given time and the proper ingredients one of their Order could stave off the effects of weather and empower their customers against afflictions. Chakta saw that it was a start but still, the Mchwa were subject to the whims of the forest and they knew that the world was a vast place teeming with other life. They left their burgeoning society of chef-scientists to find others without purpose and a solution to their problem.

Cultivating Seas
It didn’t take long for a solution to present itself as the hive spied another tribe. These Rekexi, as Chakta understood, were smaller than the Halessian they first dealt with but more driven. For a while the hive rested upon their beach and watched the shrimpfolk toil away in their forests of kelp and algae while raising their fish and clams under the sea. Slowly water striders approached and observed as beetles dove under the coastal waters and spoke in the thrum of wings, how maybe the Rekexi could prepare their food.

Satisfied, the Cultivated Cauldron attempted to bring the two races together and realized quickly that while they could understand the language of mortals their newest students couldn’t. They pondered for a cycle of the dual colored moon until they came across a solution. On the beach between the two races they built what the Mchwa called the Kupikia Doa, a small divet lined with coral and wood that naturally served as a cauldron to cook their food in. With the next tide the two races gathered together and, while slow at first, eventually saw the two races spending the rest of the day celebrating the joining of their cuisines.

The two races started to work together after that fateful meeting with the Rekexi teaching the Halessian who joined the Mchwa how to properly cultivate at least the beach’s flora and fauna. Likewise the Halessian taught the Rekexi who joined the Mchwa what mystical properties were possible with their ingredients. Together they left the small island Chakta called home to explore new cuisines.

The Arrival of the Mchwa
Like the tide, the Mchwa eventually started to wash ashore the other continents. For the most part it was those Rekexi that wanted to join a group of gourmands, although some Halessian managed to close the distance to the Drum and other nearby lands on simple rafts. They brought a cuisine beyond what others had tasted and a promise to spread knowledge if they wished to join and share what they knew. There was no indication that they were hostile unless they were particularly animated about what they were cooking at the time.

Spoiler: AP Expenditures

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Starting AP: 16

2 AP Form Racial Society - Mchwa - Mchwa are first and foremost farmers who then use what they cultivate to brew and cook. They are a multiracial group who’s only real tenet is that their products aren’t hoarded.

2 AP Teach Mystical Concept - Alchemy - Chakta has taught the fundamentals of Alchemy to the Mchwa. While some practitioners of the Craft prefer to work alone, the Mchwa always work in groups and view the entire process as a bonding experience.

2 AP Create Mystical Subconcept - Gourmet - A subset of Alchemy, Gourmet is the Craft of combining ingredients into food and drink. The chief difference between Alchemy and Gourmet is that of scale and time. It takes a Gourmand (one who practices Gourmet) at least half an hour to perform their Craft but always makes enough to feed at least a family; the effects of which are subtly felt until the next meal time.

3 AP Create Minor Utility Artifact - Kupikia Doa - A lesser artifact of Bless/Curse used by the Mchwa that serves as a cauldron. Once the society gets large enough it’ll serve as a meeting point for the various gourmands that make up the group where they can share recipes and ingredients.

0 AP Bless - Sherehe - The first use of the Kupikia Doa allowed the Halessian and Rekexi to communicate with each other despite not having a shared language. It goes beyond just simple body language, though, as those working together seem to intuitively understand each other. While it starts on the beach the effect spreads throughout Creation as teamwork is fostered.

1 AP Teach Advanced Concept - Aquaculture - The Rekexi teach those Halessian within the Mchwa how to properly cultivate food. While not under the purview of the concept, the Mchwa begin to flirt with the idea of agriculture.

Domain Got! Community (Hearth) See above AP expenditures.

I’ll get another post up once I figure out where I’m sending a bunch of shrimpfolk chefs.

**Gnomes2169** · 2021-10-06, 08:46 AM (ISO 8601)

Oberon's Travels - Testing the peoples of the World
The tournament of champions was something that interested the Lord of Winter, and while he was supremely confident in his abilities and bore the weapon of his gods, he was a wise man and did not allow this to make him arrogant. Instead, he went to Tahr and Thua and asked them for a boon, to allow him and his companions to walk the First World without needing the mists, so that he could walk to the colosseum upon the Isle of Champions and answer the challenge there. Being the twin god's champion, this boon was granted, and when he left their presence the Lord of Winter brought with him a new form for himself and his champions. A form of war, that allowed full physical manifestation upon the First World and hardened the body to that of frozen soil, making the Andlitir that assumed it armored without needing to wear bulky equipment.

But even this new form did not make Oberon complacent. While he was a huntsman and knew some of the beings of the First World, and he had proven himself the greatest warrior among the Andlitir, he did not know how the other peoples of the First World fought. Not truly. If he was to face the champions of these people, then he should learn how to battle these other cultures, to prove his martial prowess by learning their techniques and how to counter them. And thus, during some of the mist events, Oberon would stride from a bridge nearly alone to challenge the the greatest warriors of a community or to hunt the greatest beasts he could find. Of course, he possessed his spear, the symbol of his office, so he was never truly alone, but unless he needed to summon the phantoms of the fallen the only beings that accompanied him were the one Who-Believes and the one Who-Follows, as he had declared them Story Keepers and wished for them to witness and record these new peoples and what they had seen.

Between these challenges and the records that had been created from them, either by Oberon's personal account or by Who-Believes' notes, the Huntsmen and Daumer began to take note of the strengths and weaknesses of each of the peoples on the First World, and developed strategies and techniques to hunt them. In the months leading up to the Tournament of Champions, these strategies became known as Tactics, an exercise of war that could be practiced and perfected, and the Daumer developed their own highly-mobile strategies based in the arts of war that they developed and understood.

On Wings of Darkness
As Oberon traveled the world and made his challenges, a new race would be born from a number of nests around the Ice Palace. Children of Thua, these great birds resembled ravens, but with eyes of crimson rather than black or gold. These corvids hatched all at once, flew to their mother, and then many immediately flew out into the First World to spread mischief and misery. These Great Ravens, as they became known, spread throughout the lands of the First World like a plague, settling where they found peoples and causing mischief, but mostly just watching and learning. They were the eyes of the Daumer, their lurking talons, and where they flew doom followed.

An Effective Retort
The effects of Arkhos' blessing had been subtle, and took time for the Howler and Corpse Eater to notice. Small sections of permafrost were no longer as thick, some of the obsidian and basalt rocks reflected light for a few minutes before they faded back to their natural shadowy state. The lands around the Mist Gates in particular where bridges were perpetually open and food and resources were brought in at all times of day were the most impacted, the gates themselves eventually illuminating the surrounding area in azure light as the influence of the First World soaked into the icy structures. The soil itself was even beginning to thaw, at least at a surface level, allowing the tribes that had settled around the permanent bridges to sink their tents into more permanent positions and build ever larger structures of hide and bone.

The defensive effects of the blessing were a bit more obvious, though Tahr'Thua wasn't certain that the god that had crafted this divine protection understood exactly what the largest danger was in this place. While victims dragged into the Hvittmaudh might be protected from the ream's biting cold for a short time, sturdy buildings with a fireplace would have provided protection just as effectively. The danger was that the Andlitir were all warriors, from the youngest child that could stand to the most ancient and bent elder, while villages and towns typically only had handfuls of guards that could fight against the tribesmen effectively, and none of them had true experience battling against swarms of half-ethereal warriors.

So while this was a way that the playing field was slightly evened, it had been so unbalanced in the first place that the blessing would not fundamentally change the relationship between the Daumer and the unfortunates dragged into the Hvittmaudh. But the attempt would draw the attention of Tahr'Thua, and the winter god found it... cheeky, if a bit misguided. The light and the heat generated by the blessing would make it obvious who was responsible for the divine artifice, and the Howler would shake his head and chuckle. "Ah, sun god, so angry, but so used to being a protector that you don't understand how to lash out effectively, even in anger." Tahr'Thua still needed to retort, of course, as this blessing was a challenge to winter's dominion within the Hvittmaudh, but there was no reason that the punishment could not also work as a lesson. "This is how you strike back."

Casting out his hands, a storm of ice and bitterly cold winds flowed from the Howler and spiraled out into the First World. Out it spun, twirling and seeking until it found the people of the sun. To every corner of the First World this curse spun, and where it found a Quetzpal'in a storm of frost and cold that vanished as quickly as it had come raged. As that frigid touch passed, the blessings that Arkhos had bestowed upon his creations had dimmed and faded, their immense vitality and luck sapped until a minute had passed for their bodies to regain their heat. While the blessings had been returned to them, the Quetzpal'in would now have a weakness that could be exploited, a weakness that the Daumer were uniquely suited to taking advantage of.

With a jealous caw, Thua wanting to play at this game as well, the Corpse Eater hopped to the mistgates and at each of them she sent whispers from voices that she had collected. In every tongue and to every people were little lies and false stories weaved, beliefs that were flawed and foolish but believed anyway. With these whispers, superstitions were born in the ignorant and learned alike, and these superstitions spread like wildfire. The First World was a natural breeding ground for them, with the recent departure of so many gods, so many monsters and mortals meeting for the first time, and horrors that stalked the oceans, depths and mists there to feed them. And once these false ideas were implanted, they were difficult, so incredibly difficult, to extract from a mortal's mind, as Thua's influence reinforced the ideals to unreasonable degrees. The only cultures spared the overt influence of the Corpse Eater were the Daumer and those at the Black Peak of Reason, but even these societies would have their own minor superstitions growing among them as the curse diffused and they were forced to interact with the afflicted societies.

Strengthening the Collective - Base of the Black Peak of Reason
As Oberon quested and the Great Ravens spread throughout the world, at the Black Peak itself Tahr'Thua's anointed utterer had been hard at work trying to grow the pool of candidates to fill the position. And had been hard pressed to really find traction, even among her own kin. Yes, there were those who would fill the position and even allow the god to speak through them, but as tales of the Daumer and Tahr'Thua's destructive wrath reached the peak, only a handful were able to be convinced to serve the terrible God of Mists out of obligation, and even fewer were willing to give themselves fully over to the faith.

It didn't help that those who gave true communion to the god, allowing him willing and full access to their bodies and minds in order to speak at the councils of gods and to the faithful, found the experience... rapturous. A terrible, heart-pounding, exhilarating experience that always just went that extra step too far when the vessels described it, turning it from something holy to something subtly profane and deeply disturbing. But that connection gave these few fully committed Utterers an insight into some of the god's plans for the First World, and after a few weeks of seclusion the first Utterer of Tahr'Thua walked from her cloister to approach the settled strangers that had journeyed from the lands of the Slig.

Seeing members of other societies as well had begun to gather, the mouthpiece of Tahr'Thua only grinned all the wider and lifted her hands as mists began to flow from the chamber that she had left. Mists from the frozen heart of the Ice Palace itself poured from the peak, and in Tahr's voice she whispered, "Do not fear, welcome strangers. Indeed, rejoice! For many of you have known the terrors of the Daumer, my Faces in the Mist. But my word holds true, and no war shall I wage upon this place or the peoples around it." As she spoke, tendrils of mist that took humanoid form pealed from the already thinning cloud, and from them formed the solid shapes of Andlitir, taking their new Warform to escape the reach of the Hvittmaudh and remain within the First World. "Now, instead, you will find them your protectors, your champions. My warriors shall stand guard and protect this holy place from the faithless and those who would betray the pact. None shall make war or violence upon this place and all who are within it without knowing the wrath of the Lord of Winter. And thus, I hold to my end of the bargain."

Spoiler: AP stuff

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Starting AP: 0

Two Rollovers: +10 AP

-1 AP; Blessing - Eternal Winter: Oberon and his Companions, -the tribe that the current Oberon is from, the clanless huntsmen and the tribe the previous Oberon is from,- all gain the benefits of this blessing, and it allows them to manifest in fully physical form even in areas too hot for them. Not only that, they are able to take a near-frozen form that makes their skin and flesh as hard as permafrost, but which doesn’t reduce their strength or speed (even if it reduces their flexibility and agility.) This is considered a fourth stage and is known as the Warform of the Andlitir.
Domain Progression: Strength (Endurance) 1/10

-1 AP; Mundane concept - Tactics (Mobile Warfare): While parts of the Daumer society are beginning to settle and form permanent colonies within the Mistgates and around the Ice Palace, all of them were once nomadic tribesmen and fully half of their tribes have decided to maintain that lifestyle. The ones who are settling have begun to change their way of life, and their growing populations make their raids more vital and less a matter of glory. While the Mistgates do give them unlimited access to the First World, every raid and hunting expedition needs to be effective, and that means developing strategies and actually planning out strikes depending on what each ever-shifting bridge leads to.

The Huntsmen caste of each settled tribe has expanded, and those huntsmen practice actual arts of war instead of simply hunting and conflict. Moving as units, reading a battlefield, striking at targets to make openings for other warriors, these are the things that the Huntsmen now practice until they have perfected their maneuvers. Their nomadic heritage and natural abilities lend the Daumer peoples to a highly mobile form of warfare, and the tactics they specialize in center around ambushes, running battles and making gaps in enemy formations to push through and strike at their foe's core and soft underbelly.
Domain Progression: Strength (Endurance) 2/10

-1 AP; Shared Mythic society - The Collective's Fist: At the base of the Black Peak of Reason rests a newly forming society, and the Andlitir are too proud to let this society that represents the gods exist without their input. An enclave of Wild Huntsmen, all of them tribeless Companions of Oberon that benefit from the Eternal Winter blessing with no chance of that blessing fading away due to a transition of the hero's title, exists within the Collective. These Andlitir are not a full part of the society, holding themselves separate and superior due to their incredibly long lifespans and the frank arrogance of their earned titles, but they are willing to fight in the society's defense and in particular work to protect the sanctity and security of the Black Peak of Reason and the voices of the gods within.

Great Ravens fly into this society from time to time as well, though they are more allies of the Huntsmen there for a visit and to cause some mischief than they are true productive and contributing members. If they are around when a threat arises, though, the ravens will also assist in the society's defense.
Domain Progress: Strength (Endurance) 3/10

-1 AP; Curse - Superstition: A lot of things in the world have been changing, rapidly, and with no central authority except the words of the divine, many of which are now banished from the First World into the realms where their mortal followers cannot go, mortals are doing what they were taught to do. They're making up stories. Unfortunately, many of those stories aren't true, and are made by uneducated or ignorant people to try and explain why things happen in order to give comfort rather than to truly understand how their world works.

Most superstitions are harmless, being things like avoiding black cats, not breaking mirrors or decorating houses with volcanic stone to avoid bad luck. There are situations where superstitions are dangerous, however. Someone who does all the things that make a person "unlucky" can find themselves made into a pariah, blamed for everything bad that happens in a community. Or a superstition actively puts people that believe it in danger, some of the more popular actively dangerous beliefs being:

That burning sage will keep away Frost Widows, when the heat only draws them in.
Andlitir cannot enter a building they are not invited into as long as there is a lit candle in each window, when, in fact, nothing stops them from doing so, even if wild huntsmen don't go after such easy targets. Non-huntsmen, on the other hand, just use those candles to find which buildings are occupied to take their targets.
That [i]all[i] coral should be cleared from shallows to keep The Calling's influence from spreading to communities on the shore, when clearing it is stupidly dangerous due to other divine curses and leads to people drowning themselves, and destruction of so much habitat kills off much of a fishing community's food source.
Picking and using certain herbs causes the mists to come to prey on a community (since people think those herbs are holy things from Hvittmaudh,) when in fact they are medicinal, and have no connection to the Nightmare Realm in the slightest

Every nation, heck, every community has its own unique superstitions. There is no single comprehensive list of all the wrong and stupid things people believe, but believe them they do, to an irrational degree. The one thing that all superstitions share is that they are all blatantly false. Unless this curse is countered, there are no superstitions that have a kernel of truth or nugget of wisdom. They are all negative.

Societies/organizations established within the Peak of Black Reason and the Daumer peoples only suffer a minor version of this curse, with only small and typically harmless superstitions being present but not severely impacting the way their societies are run or creating many pariahs and scapegoats among their societies.
Domain Progression: Destruction (Ruin) 3/10

-1 AP; Curse - Winter's Sting (counter to the Unyielding Heart): While the blessing provided by Arkhos is proof against many things, in bitter cold (such as that of a cold-damaging spell, winter, any tundra or other permafrost-present climate, or the plane of Hvittmaudh) and against the magic of Ruin the blessing becomes inert, leaving any Quetzpal'in so afflicted as vulnerable as they had been before they were granted the solar deity's boon.

This period of vulnerability does not last long, the Unyielding Heart blessing restoring itself fully a minute after a Quetzpal'in manages to stop being exposed to the cold or magic that triggers this vulnerability. Sometimes this is easier said than done (a Quetzpal'in stranded in the Hvittmaudh, for example, is going to be in for an incredibly bad time until they manage to find an exit.)
Domain Progression: Destruction (Ruin) 4/10

-5 AP; Create Legendary Life - Great Ravens: Massive birds that call themselves the Children of Thua, Great Ravens are massive, hyper-intelligent birds, each of them almost five feet tall, with wingspans two and a half that size. Their feathers are incredibly dense with many air pockets, allowing them to exist in effectively any climate and shielding them from many mundane weapons. Those feathers are also infused with a magic conducting property, causing weaker spells to literally glide off of them and giving the ravens limited magic immunity. Great ravens are naturally able to channel Ruin magic as well at the level of a well-trained adept, and are able to generate a special brand of Ruin magic that causes misfortune in an aura around them. This suits their personalities well, as they enjoy witnessing chaos and mayhem, especially if they are the cause for it.

These magical birds are a part of the Daumer society, and often travel in murders of four to scout and explore the various places within the First World. Being highly intelligent corvids, they are able to learn, understand and imitate the languages of any peoples they encounter (outside of languages that are entirely telepathic, of course, since they have no psionic capabilities themselves,) and that makes them perfect as agents of mischief and scouts that destabilize areas for eventual hunts by Andlitir. Once the mists actually come, flocks of ravens will gather to join the Huntsmen and aid them in battle, adding to the chaos with spells and diving attacks from above.

Great ravens seem to have some authority over mundane corvids of all kinds. While those birds are not made any more intelligent or magical by association with their legendary counterparts, great ravens are able to see through their eyes and gather them into flocks to provide themselves cover and sacrificial bodies to protect themselves.

Great Ravens can live for 250 years, and they are almost universally considered members of the Wild Hunt (meaning they can be reborn if they are slain in combat,) so given their natural protections they often live to those old ages. Some small flocks do exist in the First World and in the Wellspring Resorts that are not associated with the Daumer, however, and those flocks act as they desire. These free agents do their best to avoid conflict with the Daumer, not wanting to face foes that can match and exceed them in everything they do, especially since they are not part of the Hunt and are thus nowhere near as resilient to dying permanently as their society-bound kin.
Domain Progress: Destruction (Ruin) 9/10

Total AP expended: -10 AP

Final AP: 0 AP

Domain Progression:
Destruction (Ruin) 9/10
Strength (Endurance) 3/10

**Gunhaven** · 2021-10-06, 09:27 PM (ISO 8601)

Playing on the Drum
The first expeditions for the Mchwa was shaky to say the least. They weren’t seafarers by any stretch of the imagination and the call of the depths was so tempting for the simple folk. But eventually they made landfall on the nearby landmass and began to explore and taste. There was no rush in their journey, simply learning what could and couldn’t be used for their Crafts. Two groups spread out, one to the north and the other to the south, as they set up little camps.

Such Bounty! - Northern Ubollfidh
The group to the south stopped in their tracks, unable to comprehend what they saw. As they drew closer they confirmed that it was no trick but instead of a massive tree with a large forest surrounding it. There was some fear but after the nightly feast that washed away and they closed the distance, starting to forage near the edge of the forest and sea.

Such Beauty! - Western Anahuac
The group to the north slowly started to head east as they explored their corner of creation. After many cycles they crested one last ridge and felt both dread at more seafaring and joy at what looked like some sort of city with a massive pyramid in the center. One last meal was had on the coast as they created rafts and they floated or walked the distance to the new island, making landfall and setting up a camp. Halessian went further inland with food already cooked, waving at everything they came across and offering a snack on this most wondrous day. while Rekexi started up a simple algae farm off the coast and tapped into their collection of goat meat and clams.

Such Oddity! - Southeastern Piedwald
Another batch of the Mchwa left their island home and headed north on rafts of palm and kelp. It was strange for the Halessian and Rekexi to be so far away from one another after joining their shared society and that call meant a raft or two total were lost to that siren call but eventually they found land once more. What’s more it was a jungle and surely filled with a bounty of resources! They landed and began the task of setting up a camp while others started to forage in the jungle.

Jungle of Slumber - Southwestern Garden
At a certain point the second expedition to the north split and headed slightly to the east. This group found another continent teeming with life and set about making a simple camp. Unlike the other landfalls, though, the Halessian started to succumb to some sort of parasite which caused the first explorers to succumb to a deathly slumber. While the group didn’t immediately abandon the potential bounty, most of the Halessian opted to simply return home while the Rekexi decided to form a new colony or join others of their kind.

In the Land of Giants - Eastern Sauropods
The group that headed to the west had the hardest time with their journey. The ones to the north could at least stop on random islands and the journey overall wasn’t as long as theirs was. Only a pair of rafts managed to make the journey to the new land and the small group opted to sit and wait, much like Chakta did when first meeting the two races, in case another group eventually braved the journey or they found something helpful in the new land.

Spoiler: TLDR

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Mchwa shows up on coasts, as promised! They’re actively interacting with Anahuac, foraging in Ubollfidh and Piedwald, and waiting in the Garden and Sauropod.

Spoiler: AP Expenditures

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Starting AP: 6
Artifact Charges Kupikia Doa: 0/1

**canjowolf** · 2021-10-07, 08:13 PM (ISO 8601)

The Garden, Jungle of Slumber

The first of the inhabitants of the Garden, other than the bugs and the silent but fragrant Phihid, to meet the small arrivals came not from the jungle, but from the sea. A living ship covered with flowers and smelling of boiling fat and of burning incense. Aboard ship were furry creatures with woven skirts and long swaying noses. They wore masks across their faces and bandoliers across their chests.

**canjowolf** · 2021-10-07, 10:35 PM (ISO 8601)

Piedwald & Abdita - The Seaside Gardens

As the Gardener mariners cast their nets and prayed for trade, they also planted the Phihid on distant shores. In time, the colonies of sentient flowers began spreading along the shorelines, giving the Gardeners of this era a sign that they were not the first to visit these shores, and giving them "locals" to talk to. Would their spread inland go unopposed?

Cartesia & The Land of Giants

The coasts of Cartesia were long, but not uninviting, and the Phihid were cast there as well. It had seemed that the interactions between whatever natives inhabited these lands and the mariners had not yet risen to the attention of the gods, but surely something happened in those prehistoric times. Archeologists even now scour those lands for stories from those times. And from there it wasn't far for the Gardeners to said their living ships to the lands of the Sauropods. A slightly less dangerous country than their homeland, but perhaps more savage. And how must the minds on the living ships felt to those first sauropods who sensed them? A living city of flower-minds, all twisted together like colored strings in a rainbow rope. Fast, flowing, fearless. Wrapped round the patient, still, cautious minds of the Gardener crew. Those who maintained this mental city and brought it round to colonize distant shores. To feed the kikiri who followed the ships. To pull fish from the sea to feed the pitcher plants. To gather water from the pitcher plants to hydrate the Phihid.

**Feathersnow** · 2021-10-08, 10:16 AM (ISO 8601)

The Slig Colonies

The Coming of the Sauropods

A pod of monsters the size of whales trooped towards the Slig settlement. At first, this was assumed to be a new Rekexi weapon, and the workers arrayed themselves to fight.

Then they were touched by a voice as strong and silent as their queen's!

These creatures were intelligent and neutral in the conflicts between Slig and Rekexi. What is more, they were only slightly less ignorant of the other peoples of the continent than the Sligs were of them.

The local Queen spoke in kind. WELCOME SISTERS, BE AT HOME AMONGST US

The workers set out fruits and baubles to offer their new guests.

**Zelphas** · 2021-10-08, 02:43 PM (ISO 8601)

Deeper Connection

Within Deep, it continued to call out, forging more connections to the other places beyond the first world.

It crafted the connection to the land of eternal winter with care, choosing to mirror the actions of that world in a literal sense. Deep appeared in that world as a reflection that was not one in ice; once glimpsed, the non-reflection would reach out, drawing in all it could through its darkness and away. In Deep, a great mirror was grown from a substance too black to be water, too liquid to be stone, and too cold to be borne by any but the inhabitants of the frozen world. It constantly blew a cold, cold wind into the air--wind which as also drawn down and to its rest, taking the cold with it.

It built the gate to the Elemental Storm more directly, simply punching a hole in between the two realms and letting everything fall through as it wished. The hole was a sphere of non-elements in the elemental storm, a deceptive eye of calm that took in everything and gave very little back. Within Deep, the hole was an irregular gash of danger, disgorging flames, gusts of wind, blasts of water, and rolling rocks at random as it took them from the storm on the other side.

The connection to the Forge of Hearts was even simpler, and yet also more subtle. A small pit was formed, a place large enough for the average mortal to fit into but still mostly unobtrusive, where the inevitable detritus and excess from the forging process could be thrown. Once thrown there, it vanished. Within Deep, the other side appeared as a glowing crack filled with yellow light and heat; the heat still fell down instead of up, going to its rest as well.

At the bottom of all that has been created, it gathered itself for its next action. It knew that some of the bigger things seemed to have forgotten their purpose more strongly than others, and one of them was the maker of the place where it needed to Call next. That place was a gathering spot for many of the parts of the small things and big things, so it needed to be gathered in, but it expected strnger resistance.

As it prepared, everywhere it had touched began to feel the Call.

Spoiler: AP Actions

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1 AP + 5 AP = 6 AP

Create Portal (Deep to Hvittmaudh) -2 AP: On Hivttmaudh's end, the portal is a moving thing, manifesting as a reflection of darkness and depth upon the ice and snow of the world. Once it is seen by a living thing, it tries to draw in everything nearby, including the very ice it is reflected by. On the Deep side, it appears as an enormous mirror of blue-black two miles above the bottom of the rock cylinder, constantly blowing out arctic wind and snow. This turns the waterfall from the First World portal into heavy snow and ice for the last two miles of the Deep cylinder. (Domain Progression: Decay (Patience) 8/10)

Create Portal (The Elemental Storm to Deep) -2 AP: The portal is as described above; an orb of emptiness in the Elemental Storm, and a large, jagged gap spewing the various elements in Deep. This portal is roughly twenty-five miles above the bottom of the cylinder; the area around it is surrounded by elemental chaos from the connected plane. (Domain progression: Decay (Patience) 10/10)

Decay (Patience) Domain Get!

Create Portal (The Forge of Hearts to Deep) -2 AP The portal is as described above. It is seventy-five miles above the bottom of the cylinder in Deep; most seeds or animals that somehow survive crossign into Deep end up near here due to its constant source of heat and light. (Domain Progression: Death (Endings) 2/10)

Curse (Terminal Call) -0 AP (the Pit of Hunger): The Calling has increased its efforts to bring everything to it. Every plane connected to Deep can feel the effects of the Call, and things gravitate towards the connected portals more often than mere chance would cause.

6 AP - 6 AP = 0 AP Remaining

**Kinro** · 2021-10-08, 06:06 PM (ISO 8601)

Soon after the first group had been gathered, the thought mages detected a new set of thoughts arriving, one well distinct from the first. And so, a second delgation was sent, one of three, just like the first, to see if this, too, might be a species worth communicating with. And they were surprised, too. So many sentient beings, so many different types, but each so small.

Through its thought mage, the first delegation had received news of the new arrivals, but still, their mission didn't falter. They arrived, soon, at one of the village. They hardly needed to announce their arrival, their thunderous footsteps and sheer bulk doing the work for them. Once arrived, they regarded the assembled with curiosity, sending to all, not a message, but a general sense of calm and peacefulness. The baubles, they cared little for and the fruits would certainly not be enough for more than a mouthful. The noises the small ones made, too, meant little to them. But one seemed to have some sense of true communication, though, bafflingly, used it only to send noises. The thought-mage addressed his message. It was carefully crafted not to overwhelm a mind so weak, going slowly and carefully, letting one idea through at a time. The sauropods welcomed these small ones to their land, they wanted to know who these people were, why they had come, how long they'd been there. An offer was also made to attempt to her true communication, one that was only very slightly tinged with the idea of just how beneath the thought-mage sauropod the simplicity of communication he was currently using was. And then, of course, the reading of the mind in response. Much more delicate due to being done by the mind of one of the best thought-mages in the land, but still far from comfortable.

Spoiler: AP

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7 + 4 = 11

**Gunhaven** · 2021-10-09, 12:17 AM (ISO 8601)

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Originally Posted by canjowolf

The Garden, Jungle of Slumber

The first of the inhabitants of the Garden, other than the bugs and the silent but fragrant Phihid, to meet the small arrivals came not from the jungle, but from the sea. A living ship covered with flowers and smelling of boiling fat and of burning incense. Aboard ship were furry creatures with woven skirts and long swaying noses. They wore masks across their faces and bandoliers across their chests.

New Guests - The Garden, Jungle of Slumber
There was a moment of pause as a ship approached the landing party that decided to stick around, bobbing away in the sea and getting settled on the coast. A Halessian, one of a trio that stuck around, was the first to spot the ship, much better crafted then their own hastily constructed dingy, and he's the one that quickly got the others together. By the time they got close enough that the group could smell the boiling fat and burning incense they had started their own fire going and were gathering up their own selection of ingredients. Once they were close enough to be heard they called out in their mixed tongues "Come! Come! You have something cooking already, yes? It smells grand! Come, let us share!"

The oddest thing of the entire thing was that their words and actions were clearly understood despite the obvious clash of language between Rekexi and Halessian and that they'd never seen the strange ship or the furry beings on it. To a lesser extent the next oddity was the obvious lack of concern with some new group, but it was already a multiracial group to begin with.

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Originally Posted by Kinro

Soon after the first group had been gathered, the thought mages detected a new set of thoughts arriving, one well distinct from the first. And so, a second delgation was sent, one of three, just like the first, to see if this, too, might be a species worth communicating with. And they were surprised, too. So many sentient beings, so many different types, but each so small.

Through its thought mage, the first delegation had received news of the new arrivals, but still, their mission didn't falter. They arrived, soon, at one of the village. They hardly needed to announce their arrival, their thunderous footsteps and sheer bulk doing the work for them. Once arrived, they regarded the assembled with curiosity, sending to all, not a message, but a general sense of calm and peacefulness. The baubles, they cared little for and the fruits would certainly not be enough for more than a mouthful. The noises the small ones made, too, meant little to them. But, guessing that the one making the most might be the most important, it was to that one that the thought-mage addressed his message. It was carefully crafted not to overwhelm a mind so weak, going slowly and carefully, letting one idea through at a time. The sauropods welcomed these small ones to their land, they wanted to know who these people were, why they had come, how long they'd been there. An offer was also made to attempt to train one of their numbers in true communication, one that was only very slightly tinged with the idea of just how beneath the thought-mage sauropod this simplicity of communication was. And then, of course, the reading of the mind in response. Much more delicate due to being done by the mind of one of the best thought-mages in the land, but still far from comfortable.

Spoiler: AP

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Rollover
7 + 4 = 11

The Land of Giants
A Halessian was the first to hear, then feel, and finally to see the sauropod. He had gone out to gather some simple plants and grubs to see what was edible and what wouldn't work with the Rekexi's algae and clams. By the time he was in view he was already on the way back to the small camp they had constructed on the coast. The coastal clearing, where a couple dozen beings milled about, flew into motion as they started their work. The feeling of calmness and peace washed over them and was met with their own feeling of jubilation. The group called out as loud as they could "Hail! We feel you mean no harm, we just wish we could do more to prepare for you!" Some of the voices were replaced with laughter as the others called out "We doubt we could make enough to feed one of you after all! Such a large creature we find ourselves facing!"

The mixed language was muddled slightly but somehow the group managed to shout their words loud enough to be heard, their actions jubilant as they worked.

**Durmatagno** · 2021-10-09, 01:11 AM (ISO 8601)

Rettia

Chaos was the name of the game. The world below the two faced moon wasn't boring per say, but it didn't have that touch that only Rettia could provide. So she would provide it. She giggled to herself as she wove her godly magic, spinning into being great new forms of life to scatter across the world below. Her favored beast though would take some time. She got to work, sculpting it by hand even if she could just do it with magic. Before Rettia a monster, a beast of great size was forming. Living hills of armor, with great wings and an eternal appetite. Massive creatures that no single mortal could hope to conquer, though Rettia would love to see them try, and even reward them if one succeeded. No, before her was a new beast. One of many she was releasing on the world. She sat atop the first of them, blessing him with a greater intellect than the others. Her son, lord of all his kind. Maybe in time there would be more like him, but for now, he would be eternally unique. Instead of the brown, black, or grey of his brothers and sisters, his carapace held a silver sheen. His great eyes held a sharp intellect, and even as he began testing his new body, great wings extending and filling the air with violent vibrations, Rettia laughed loudly. Perfect, with so many of her children running around, no one could ignore her any longer. No one could dare leave Rettia to rot.

With some beasts turned on the world, she turned her eyes to the other mortals dotting the world. She would find them, and see how they were doing. Maybe make things more interesting, she did not yet know. What she did know was that she had claimed a new throne for herself, a new source of power, and with it, she would command greater respect from the world around her.

Spoiler: AP Actions

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Starting AP - 16

Create Legends (5) - Obelisk Beetle - A massive beetle the size of large hills. These creatures have extremely thick carapaces that can shrug off blows that would break walls. Surprisingly fast for their size, and able to fly, these beetles are more dangerous than their size alone would suggest. While not intelligent, even by the standards of beasts, they are stubborn, and don't die easily even once their armor is cracked. Will eat anything in sight, preferring easy meals over chasing things. As such, they often munch through forests, or even burrow into mountains, feasting on the rock itself. Though they prefer plants over all other food, if nothing else is readily available, they would even try to hunt things that rival their power.

Raise Hero (2) - Mercury the First Born - The first born of all the Obelisk beetles. Sporting a carapace with a silver sheen, a sharp intellect far above his brothers and sisters, greater size, and even access to magic, Mercury is the only child Rettia has named herself. He roams the world searching for new sights, new stories, and new tastes. While he is just as hungry as his kin, he has the intelligence to know it is simply because his belly can never be fully, not that he is starving. His breath is freezing, and in a pinch can be used as a weapon, though he prefers his massive horn and size.

Create Monsters (1AP) - Glacier Ant - Large (Roughly Dog sized) ants that prefer freezing cold and ice. Build large nests into glaciers, and are strong swimmers, gathering most of their food from the water near their homes. When pushed inland, they attack and eat anything they can swarm over. While not particularly tough, their bites are freezing and their Queens able to expel freezing breath.

Create Monsters (1AP) - Golden Grasshopper - Roughly the size of a horse, these rare creatures prefer hot biomes, and are docile in-spite of their size. At least, as a grasshopper. When they become Golden Cicada's, they are aggressive, and known to target anything in their path, stopping to devour even bones before moving on.

Create Monsters (1AP) - Azure Dragonfly - Cat size blue dragonflies that behave much likes wolves. Territorial, and protective of their young, they are unusually intelligent for an insect, and known to seek revenge or bond to those that treat them well. Have a knack for sniffing out ripe berries and roots, but will eat about anything put in front of them.

Spent AP - 10
Final AP - 6

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

Life (Insects) - 10/10 AP (Create Serovian Moth (Create Life (Race)), (Create Aurorean States (Create Racial Society), Create Obelisk Beetles (Create Legends), Create Glacier Ant (Create Monster Race))

Domain Gained - Life (Insects)

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

**MrAbdiel** · 2021-10-09, 01:58 AM (ISO 8601)

The Nechustani had never been a united people. It is possible they never would be. Their history, such that it was, was riven with tragedy and tribal conflict - and the occasional flash of excellence like unto which the world has rarely seen.

Early colonization efforts had taught them the hostility and danger of the world, and so they had remained in their desert, in their Serpentways, with only small groups of individuals travelling further and never establishing anything like expansive permanent settlements. Everything was the clans, and the clans were everything. Thus it was the dawn of the second epoch for the desert elves when their colonists set out en masse not to found a city for themselves, but to follow the divine call to participate in the creation of some braided whole. They did not bring much science, or magic, or even particularly coherent tradition with them. But what they did bring was bloody minded devotion to excellence in the tasks they sought to accomplish; and a cultural liquidity that made them fine middle men, merchants, interpreters, personal servants, and politicians.

Additionally, they brought with them the unique ability to bind familial ties beyond the biological line - at least, to an extent. Nechustani breed true with Nechustani; but contain within themselves the capacity to parthenogenecize offspring with psychic input - which is to say, to create unique Nechustani children with some mental and social characteristics of the ‘father’ involved. And protracted interaction with other races revealed more about them that had never come to the fore, in their monoracial birthplace. They possessed a cultural chameleonism that meant they could, if devoted to a task, find kinship and acceptance in all but the most devotedly intolerant people groups. They instinctively tracked, and replicated chemical and physical displays from sapients to which they were attracted - producing pheromones, mapping movement rhythms, even subconsciously shifting their digestive arrangement to crave and benefit from another species’ preferred diet. The foreparts of these gifts were known from intertribal marriages and the adaptability of one Nechustani to the culture of another. But only with their arrival in numbers to the Black Peak of Reason’s foot settlement did it become clear that the pale elves were capable of in all but the most extreme cases meeting, loving, marrying, and bearing children for other species. In all cases to this point, those children were born with the same slender elven proportions and body structure as their Nechustani mother, but often carried skin tonation, hair colors and eye pigments mapped from their extraracial ‘father’. Inevitably to many species, this capacity for interspecies reproduction would be atleast initially seen as a kind of subversion or parasitism; a way of producing creatures who were insultingly alien to their people and only related to them in superficial ways. For others, the prospect of finding a Nechustani spouse might represent the only way that they may conceive at all - because of a biologically inert sexual attraction in one’s own species, or because of a physical infertility which did not apply to the psychic reproduction of these ‘half elves’. Not to mention that even in a difficult world struck with many challenges, it is possible that love - even unlikely love - can bloom.

In his smoky realm through which the animi of the dead gusted, partitioned and slipped into their eternal places, the Godfather stirred from his brumation. Not deeply; not enough to signal new great motion from the Wending; but he did exert enough of himself to change the world.

The Midwife of Blades spun her strange craft, being the tongue of the serpent and speaking in words of otherworldly steel; and a new comet streaked from the night sky amidst the stars. It orbited the world three times over three nights, visible in its passage in all places, before touching down with a tremendous detonation in the black sands of the Nuarahan desert, where the fractious Nechustani tribes explored the crater in curiosity. Amid the glassed hemisphere of sand was a shard of otherworldly stone pointing straight up; and from its very tip protruded the hilt of an unexposed blade. For all their effort, the strange elves could not draw the weapon out or break it free - but they recognized it as a sacred Fang of Arah-Huana, and so collaborated at least to sent teams of their people to excavate the site whenever the sands strove to fill it in again.

* * * * *

Atticus-He-Speaks-For-Me stood shoulder to shoulder with Nazara-Trades-In-Flesh. They stood where they had several times before - on the little hillock that was once the tallest mountain in the range, before the Black Peak of Reason erupted before their eyes and the Prophet’s destiny was bound to it. He smiled faintly at the memory. Not quite of how young he was - his people were so long lived the sentiment wasn’t quite right - but of how much less he was, at the time. Now he knew what he was. He was the voice for a god in the world; the conductor of a choir of races to speak to one another across the vast distances. It had taken him every day of his life from that moment on the hill to this to come to serenity; but he found it now.

“Could you ever have loved me? If things had been…”

At his words, the face of Nazara turned to him sharply. She was beautiful, for sure; beautiful like a finely crafted tool was beautiful. Her form, and purpose, were written in ever slim curve and powerful moment of restrained movement in her body. When he followed her here first, he had imagined quite naively that he could charm her a little aside from her purpose; and perhaps, they would make love out here in the warmth of the sun. But now, without her even addressing the question with words, he could see the answer in her eyes. He was married to the mountain. She was married to her weapon. Each of them was a tool of their god, and neither of them had enough left in their spirit to be something so full and important as a love to the other. He spoke before she deigned to muster a reply.

“I know.”

The naginata at her side gleamed in the starlight; a hazed, distorted field of heavenly majesty in the reflection. He drew his own Fang, then. It had seen no use; and its sheen was a perfect mirror. Ashur, the Dividing Star, looked in his hand like a hole in the world through which an inverted starscape was visible. He held the curve of the blade up to the moon, embracing some childish instinct to blot it from the sky for a moment; and in the motion of his arm, something struck his vision in a split moment, and washed through him with ferocious nausea.

“What?” The monosyllabic question from the Carnifex, as she steadied his shoulder with a strong hand. “What strikes you, Atticus?”

Was she worried? Perhaps she did care, in some part of her flinty heart. But right now, he couldn’t think of that. Right now, the world was changing. He gasped, caught his breath, and gazed down into the karambit in his grip, and its false stars; and then skyward, to the true nomad lights, in astonishment he had not felt since… well. Since the first time he stood in this spot.

“Truth, Carnifex. I am struck by Truth; and I fear it has killed me.”

Spoiler: AP SPENDS!

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This week, before rollover: 3 from previous week plus 5 from last rollover = 8 AP.

Contribute to the Collective - 1 AP 1/10 Love (Devotion)

The Collective’s Spirit

Nechustani join the accruing city-state at the foot of the Black Peak of Reason, and are forced to confront how undeveloped they are technologically and mystically compared to the other races. As a result, they fill out a variety of unusual spaces in the social structure to come.

Undesirables - Nechustani devotion to excellence translates even into excellence at low tasks, and they find societal usefulness as servants, porters, local guides and second-string traders.
Social Lubricant - Nechustani display a cultural adaptability and proficiency with language that makes them useful as translators, negotiators, and occasionally politicians.
‘Companions’ - Not quite as suggestive as the name might indicate, Nechustani ‘Companions’ are those who have developed a romantic or political bond with a member of another race that approximates to marriage, whether or not that host race recognizes it as such or whether they consider that companionship something else altogether. Nechustani display an incredible talent for adapting to extreme lengths to be with their companion, but not impossible lengths. They can learn entirely new languages and social morays, learn to eat only raw fish or grass, and even emotionally restructure their psyche to an extend that makes them compatible with those individuals they choose to pursue down such a path. They cannot, however, learn to breathe water, or produce their own heat, or gain the ability to fly. This does not preclude tragic romances that can never truly be, nor children born of such engagements in which the Nechustani ‘mother’ bears a child with the ‘father’s mental traits and a strong cultural bicompatability. Needless to say, this ability causes, in a young and now superstitious culture, as much trouble as it causes benefit.

Create Artifact (Minor Combat) - 2 AP, discounted from Midwife of Blades. 6/10 Darkness (Ambush)

Naora-Sha, the Queensword

Lodged in stone in the home desert of the Nechustani, this divine weapon remains idle; its purpose hidden even from them… for now.

Bless (Discounted by Perdition Sluice) - 0 AP

Writ in Starlight

The arrangement, movement, and correlation of the stars with other astronomical and terrestrial events forms a kind of language that, if studied with intensity and care, reveals a curious thing: the activities of the gods are recorded in the night sky. Let them that have wisdom discern.

This is a blessing that is presently hidden from the gods - even from its designer, who lit the touch paper for this revelatory stellar pronouncement with full understanding that he, himself, would not be able to directly ‘read’ the stars. Only mortals, by some quirk of their mortality, can study the heavens and reach any conclusions about what the gods have done, or are doing.

There are some limitations on this, of course. A culture needs to have learned Astronomy to even begin the process - an ability that has only really become possible because of the recency of the creation of the stars. Reading the stars is fraught with error especially for those new to the practise, and those over-eager to discover some divine fact may instead learn a calamitous misunderstanding. But over time, mortal societies and groups that dedicate themselves to the study of the stars will begin to retroactively glean insights about the actions that the gods have taken from the beginning of the First World up until their present moment. Learning these things might be highly distressing, even maddening for certain individuals - but for good or ill, the curtain is being torn.

Create Mundane Concept (Astronomy) - 1AP, Darkness (Ambush) 7/10

Atticus-He-Speaks-For-Me discovers the language of the stars, and begins desperately assembling the best minds from amongst the Utterers to scribe, chart, postulate and understand the actions of the gods through them. His initial intention is to do so discreetly, but the Utterer network is only neutral in as much as it sticks to its principles, and the practice can easily spread to any nation which takes part in the Utterance.

4 AP Remaining.

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I'm on a Boat

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Armored in Faith

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The Phihid join the Age of Exploration

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Welcome to the land of the Ice and Snow

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A Generous Garden?

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