LoC: Chains of Aeon - IC 2

[Maerok]

???, Terror Island; Not too long after the Great Gnoll-Sidhe War

A gentleman in black had appeared at Terror Island many years ago. He was quite out of place with his delicate robes and a single white rose over his heart. His face was hidden behind a grotesque mask - an upside-down fusion of smiling and crying faces. For a time he wandered the shores with two great black dogs, one chained to each wrist. Over time this traveler had built up a great empty city from the island's terrible materials. Whether the foulspawn were up to it or not he had several of them pidgeon-holed into a grim mockery of some civil life.

And for a while he watched and toyed with his great display on the side of the mountain. The fellow also spent a great deal of time carving out spiky things from choice pieces of bone and flesh in the ground.

[Gwyn chan 'r Gwyll]

Tresnaya: First Moon


At Alemar's touch, Tress seems to catch hold of herself again. She relaxes from her rigid stance, and her eyes drop level again. She looks Alemar in the eye again, and he can see in hers an eternal sadness. Behind her, a long, black rectangle floats up from beneath the ground. She stares at its reflection in Alemars eyes, and sighs.

With an ominous ‘click’, the latches on the case open, and the case opens, and the contents float up into sight. There is a long tassle, woven strands of what appear to be Tresnaya’s own hair, attached to a moulded handle of what appears to be some sort of leather, with faint indentations where the hands would have gripped it. From there, the blade spring directly from the hilt, with no crossguard to speak of. The blade is long, elegant and curved, and, an oddity, sharp only on the inside curve.

Unwillingly, it seems, Tress turns around, jerkingly, until she faces the wicked weapon. “I swore I wouldn’t.”

She takes a step towards the blade. “I swore I would not fight.”

Another step. “Even when I was angry, I didn’t bring you out again. Did I not promise?”

One final step. “But now, they’re back. You were birthed in Demonic blood. Don’t you hunger for more?”

She stretches her arm out towards it, but stops a few centimetres from the hilt. “If I take you up now, you know what will happen. I won’t be able to put you down, not until the task is finished. Even if I am forced into hiding, I will still be forced to continue on. No surrender, no quarter.”

But then, she grasps the hilt with newfound consequence. She turns around to face Alemar, her fingers sliding into their accustomed grooves. She wields the blade with the easy stance of one intimately familiar with it. Her eyes now are cold, her mouth set in grim determination.

“It has been too long since I less held the Romphaia.”

[AP=0=4+1(From Alemar)-5(Create Battle Artifact: The Romphaia)]

[Ipphli]

Alemar

Alemar frowns as he holds out his hand, Skysunder appearing in it. "Demonic? What are you talking about Tress? What's going on? Just tell me what it is we face and I will face it with you."

[Gwyn chan 'r Gwyll]

"I can tell you part, at least." Tresnaya leans on the blade of the Romphaia. "Have you ever wondered why you exist? You think it's to watch over the skies, because that is your domain. If I told you that that was only part of the truth, would you believe me? No, you would not."

Tresnaya gave a sort of strangled sound. A look of annoyance passed over her face. "I can't tell you. Hm. The inhibitions run deep. Well, we'll see how much I can say. Before you existed, there was no Aeon. You were created with Aeon. Before that, there were stars, and the sun, Mother, and the Demons, and the- Demons." Again, a spasm of annoyance.

"Then there were the 3 of us, the children of our Mother. We fought the Demons, and won, barely. Mother is-" a deep breath "-gone now, and instead, you're here. And they came back. Somehow, they came back."

"All my hard work, hours of bloody work, gone to nothing!" Tresnaya seems ready to punch something.

"You might think that some denizens of our world are evil and malicious. But they have something that the Demons don't. I was talking about the Mannequins having a conscience? Well, all of those 'evil' beings here have emotions. All the demons have is hate. Hate for us, hate for themselves, hate for their very skin!"

"At one point, I harboured reservations towards killing them." Tresnaya gives a small laugh. This isn't the same Tresnaya Alemar knew...

[Maerok]

Alaraxar, Fang Island

"*gurgle* *gurgle* AHAHAHAHA!"

The war drums of Fang Island never ceased and the Blood Pits had swung into full frenzy with the return of the Predator. Victory or failure did not matter to them at the moment. Hundreds would die in the celebrations, with the winners allowed to continue their ancestry with wide spread repopulation. Alaraxar himself sat atop the rising mound of beast and humanoid bodies. His gnolls had taken up the jungles many hidden horrors and were at one with it.

Blood from the Chalice, freshly spilled from the Most Feral's seeping heart wound, flooded the first several levels of the Pits and those who were not torn apart quickly drowned or suffered worse fates due to the black ichor. Yet even as the slaughter continued he had turned his sights toward new matters and the overwhelming sense of dread that had begun to encompass the world that had just begun to quiet down.

From within the form of a many-armed gnollish abomination, and noticeably having one eye carved in two, Alaraxar addressed his populace. "The war was fought well. Do I despise the living sidhe? No... No more than I let myself. It is their dead, the failed, that so greatly deserve scorn. And ours too! I do not care to see flesh crafted of my own... *gurgle* flesh... destroyed. But it is necessary. Allowing oneself to cease is the gravest failure." He paused to wretch free a mouthful of his own caustic bile that always interrupted his monologuing. "And do not fear that the trials are over... There is something else now. And when the time comes, you will be judged. Shall we aid in the awakening of this most dire foe? The ultimate challenge that it may be? Shall we overcome it and see who lasts the storm?"

His people roared across the unforgiving lands. Even those still caught in the rapture of the Blood Pit and its games let loose savage utterances.

[hi-mi-tsu]

~In the Netherworld~
After a moment, Aarshiya slowly lowers her hands from her ears, breathing a soft sigh of relief that the screaming has stopped. It was unpleasant, and the deaths were equally so, but...

She would rather have dead evil things than screaming living ones.

Cocking her head, she listens; a few moments later, a lone Asakku comes up the stairs to the balcony.

"You called me, my lady?"

"There are foul creatures about...the dopplegangers amongst the munoks have reported sitings to me. Take you and yours and send word to them; if ever they meet one of these things, they are to destroy it, immediately and without question. It is not one of ours. Do you understand?"

"It shall be done, my lady." The Asakku vanishes, and Aarshiya turns back in the direction of her father.

"Now, about those claws..."


~Elsewhere!~
Slowly, steadily, a trickle of kobolds began turning from the masters that had ruled them for their entire lives; there were whispers of a new way, a better way, a Lady that would not force you into servitude nor treat you as a lesser being nor ignore your pleas for salvation. It was only a very few from each dragon enclave still boasting such a population. Aarshiya's dopplegangers were at work among them, and crude altars of broken stone were being formed in out of the way corners.

Slowly, duties were being shirked; not just by the dopplegangers, who spoke of the salvation the Lady would bring, of freedom and fresh air, but also amongst those who had decided to follow them. After all, they thought, if this new Goddess was really going to protect them, why should they work for the dragons any longer?

[Ipphli]

Alemar

Alemar shakes his head, obviously confused. "And I thought dragons were bad...So these...demons," He seems to almost spit the word out, as though it put a bad taste in his mouth. "They are beings of hate? Then how much of a threat can they be? Why don't we leave them to destroy each other then? They are not gods as we are, are they? What can they do to the likes of us?"

[Lord_Asmodeus]

Armies, Mountain

The Reptilian, Draconic army, waves of shimmering scales, gleaming armor, and wicked weapons marched into view of the mountain-home, Brisdur. Once more, the armies stopped, they knew what to wait for. Ranged weapons being crude as they were, they moved close to the front of the city, but not so close that rocks might be dropped at them, or what ranged weapons there were could reach them.

Inside the city, the dwarves were no doubt taking any number of war-time precautions, and meanwhile they were less likely to see the threats within. The Inferi ghosted through parts of the city that were being abandoned, alleyways and homes near the front of the city. They closed on their target, as others of their kind position themselves silently, stealthily, cloaked in darkness and shadows. Their feral fangs gleamed into twisted scornful smiles, their blood-eyes smiling, hidden by shadow and darkness, while overhead the Shadow Dragons tensed. The battle was almost at hand.

---

Kobolds

With the armies and many of the dragons away, it was left to the younger dragons to rule over the servants left behind. No doubt, in time, this would be seen as the reason for the decreasing faith of the Kobolds. As it was, the Dragons began to catch wind of this, though they found it little cause for alarm. However, to be safe they sent those who were untouched, the Lizardfolk, to see what all the hubbub was about...

Under da sea!

Everything's wetta...

And the Kuo-Toa began to come to the great volcano. They traveled from far and wide, and soon a large community began gathering at the undersea volcano. They still worshiped the Great Dagon, and they saw this as the place of elemental power that it was. They gravitated to this place, and they worshiped Dagon here, communing with their gilled deity.

[Aergoth]

Sallyn
Still beneath the sands, slumbering to ward off the effects of the chaos and destruction of the war, Sallyn felt the disruption of order on some... strange basic level. There was something intrinsically wrong with whatever had happened in the world. He could do nothing to affect the outside now though.
Damn! I would cut off my right hand for the sake of the left! I have no one to deal with this! Beneath the desert, Sallyn planned.

[Maerok]

Fang Island, Interior

Following a year long culling campaign, the gnollish 'populace' was once more on the brink of armed conflict. They filed down the cliff-side to the tunnels that countless bulettes had taken centuries to carve out. Inside, the gnollish elite had begun to slowly retro-engineer the teachings they had receive from Jin's folk. They had been far too sloppy, taken too many liberties with any perceived advantages... Alaraxar, with his exarch, mulled over the book he had been given on tactics.

The gnollish horde would descend into these depths until they had reinvented themselves for war. Mounds of pilfered bones, some farmed from the island's wealth of gruesome beasts, were slowly converted to armor and claw augmentations. More runic tattoos were drawn upon the warriors and vile rituals were offered up in the pursuit of terrible insights.

[Gwyn chan 'r Gwyll]

Alemar

Alemar shakes his head, obviously confused. "And I thought dragons were bad...So these...demons," He seems to almost spit the word out, as though it put a bad taste in his mouth. "They are beings of hate? Then how much of a threat can they be? Why don't we leave them to destroy each other then? They are not gods as we are, are they? What can they do to the likes of us?"

"I presume Mother tried to reason with them first. She was always compassionate." Tresnaya furrows her brow. "I think. I can't remember much of her."

"As for them hurting us, have you ever wondered why my siblings never show their skin? Do you know why? Well, dearest Impy is a special case, but have you ever seen my body?" With one hand, she tugs down her neckline, revealing a large scar running across her chest, above her breasts. "As far as I can tell, we can't be killed, but, trust me, we can feel pain. Which is more than the demons can. They feel anger and hate when hurt, not pain."

[Ipphli]

Alemar

Alemar's expression darkens, the clouds that make up his body turning black, with lightning bursts seen within. When he speaks, his voice is as cold as the great northern winds. "I see. Then we must go and destroy them before they can organize or arrive in strength. I will go and recruit the other Primordials. Perhaps you can get your brothers to help us?"

[Draken]

Terror Island

Put in a social situation, the Foulspawn acted oddly. They understood everything, they understood the underlying facets of society, some of which were not yet fully acknowledged by most races. They draped themselves regally in clothes of Terror Island's skin-like surface, with the right to flowing capes and intricate designs, their speech was naugh but gibberish but it was coped with flourishes, bows, handshakes and even kisses to the hand.

Odd, was it, to see the berserkers with their tophats, and those disgusting hulks in dresses of skin, manglers taking the role of children and grues taking whatever roles they saw fit, even zoo animals, if you doubt.

It was a mockery. A mockery of what? Hard to tell, for no society was like that in order to be mocked as such. Yet.

The seers... The seers kept to themselves, close to the volcano. Living off the earth and trying to listen to the big As.

---------

Cptn. Grue, The Explorer.

Cptn. Grue saw a group of mountain keeper dwarves leave the city, and for three days and three nights he... She... It, followed the small group, until one fatidical day, one of the dwarves had to do his necessities, and went to the bushes.

And there, he met brave sir grue! Staring upside down at him with white, glazed eyes, as the dwarf, with his pants down, answered to Nature's call. The man screamed, and Grue screamed likewise, the man called on his partners and ran back with his pants lowered.

"Mon...Mon...Mon..."

"Da moon sure is full today Burdin me friend."

This... Would be when Burdin noticed he was standing in front of the caravan with the wind blowing his intimacy around.

Woosh.

[hi-mi-tsu]

History of the Dopplegangers--The Alsidhe

The drugs alter our minds. The alsidhe indulge, and so must we, to belong. It is hard to think like this.

The Lady protects us from the nightmares. From the bad ones. The Lady protects all the alsidhe who follow. It is not hard to convince an alsidhe to follow, once they have had a bad spell from the drugs; they are tractable, then, when one promises that the bad spells will go away, if only they are willing to give themselves to the Lady.

Some died, too enthusiastic in their devotion, blood spilling on the altars they made. Some removed eyes. Some tattooed themselves with her marks.

Those who didn't follow died, more often than ever, from the bad spells.

The Blind Mistress protects us. Praise the Mistress.

~Ketil, alsidhe-like

[Nefarion Xid]

*Balcony*

The red and blue Azrilim reappear a short while later and humbly present Aarshiya with her reworked combat claws. They'd been fitted with nether obsidian tips, etched with intricate diabolic designs and tempered to several times their former strength.

The red one croaked and puffed his throat out with pride...tapping his sticky fingers together in anticipation of Aarshiya's praise.

Before she can put them on, the Imp King snaps his gloved fingers and a sinister green light slithers its way across the etchings. Though the visual display was lost on his daughter...it provided an arcane sensation best described as a Concord flying over a tea cup.

In case anyone was curious, the Imp King's servants come and go, popping in and out of shadows, with the aid of magical trinkets which he provides. Not every devil has the ability to *puff* onto the scene like their master.

((0 AP = 4 - 4 (Create Combat Artifact w/ Domain Power)))

[hi-mi-tsu]

Aarshiya runs her fingers carefully over the claws after feeling that magical shake down to her bones; the tips are different, and she can practically taste the power coming off of them. Smiling down at the Azrilim, she slides them on.

"From what I can feel, they're lovely. What are they tipped with? Some sort of stone...? I'm sure they look exquisite, though I cannot see them."

She lifts her head, turning to her father, and nods to him. "Thank you, Father...now, about this great thing you've built yourself. Are you going to use it to expand the Netherworld?"

~History of the Dopplegangers--Sidhe

In the years since the war it has been very difficult to make any sort of headway with the Sidhe. If anything, they are ever more devoted to their Lord of Music, no matter what we attempt, and he has quite a proprietary interest in his children. It is difficult to do anything here.

I believe the Sidhe are a lost cause.

~Elsewhere~

Those kobolds (and dopplegangers masquerading as kobolds) began to meet in secret, further shirking the duties to their dragon lords and ladies; some began to carve the same odd runes into their flesh that the alsidhe had, and fights began to break out as quests for freedom met with demands for proof of proper devotion. Kobolds turned on others and killed them, for the ability to escape, and some were even spirited away.

In Nethril, Shiya smiled.

[Nefarion Xid]

*Balcony*

"Ah, chips left over from shaping other weapons. The same stone as my sword. Waste not, want naught."

Chips indeed. More along the lines of inch long obsidian scalpels strapped to each finger and humming with the fell magic harvested from the memories of a thousand souls. Or maybe it was only 60...it was hard to convert souls to pumpkins to Ohms in your head!

She lifts her head, turning to her father, and nods to him. "Thank you, Father...now, about this great thing you've built yourself. Are you going to use it to expand the Netherworld?"

"The Gaia Engine? Its intended use is to expand the surface world. I had no designs to use its power for my own realm. I don't believe it works that way at any rate..."

He honestly didn't know.

[Ipphli]

Alemar, Near Skalyna's southern coast

Alemar floated above the ocean, the southern coast of the island just visible to the north. He had plans to further, but there simply wasn't the space! The original island just wasn't big enough. And so Alemar tapped that connection he felt to the Gaia Engine. He channeled the energies of the mighty artifact into the ocean floor below.

Soon the waves began churning, until finally a huge mass of barren land thrust itself up from the waters, connecting to the island's southern coast. Having been careful, the landmass was nowhere near the lone island Alemar had spotted near Skalyna.

Used Terraform to create 18 barren land spaces south of Skalyna, opposite side as Terror Island

[Gwyn chan 'r Gwyll]

Alemar

Alemar's expression darkens, the clouds that make up his body turning black, with lightning bursts seen within. When he speaks, his voice is as cold as the great northern winds. "I see. Then we must go and destroy them before they can organize or arrive in strength. I will go and recruit the other Primordials. Perhaps you can get your brothers to help us?"

Tresnaya suddenly moves close to Alemar, and looks him in his lightning eyes. "Go, Alemar of the Airs. When I first met you, I noted that there was noone yet to sing your airs. Now there are, and you must rally them. Call your winds, and search the world for the monstrosities. Make your armour, forge your weapons, make your alliances, but, just do one thing for me."

She leans in close, and a spark of electricity leaps from his mouth to hers, as hers brush his cloudy form.

"Just, be careful with yourself. Good luck, Alemar, whose Airs I sing."

And she leaves, going to walk amongst the Harnnes to ready them for war, discreetly.

[Lord_Asmodeus]

Dragon Kingdoms

The young and adult dragons left in charge had noticed, slowly, the change of some kobolds behavior. They were not overtroubled at first. It was not the first time other gods were honored alongside the Wyrmfather, prayers to the Imp King when crafting powerful weapons, honoring Alaraxar when hunting, giving blessings to Aarshiya in the night, and Naraldi when near the sea, and so on and so forth. However, these were rites taken to respect the gods of these things, they were given as long as those giving them remembered their true patron, The Wyrmfather. Now however, there were heretics who shirked their creator altogether, and the Dragons, lead by Blood Scale who was left from the attack as a show of good faith both to the dragons and to Skaldi that he would directly interfere, were not pleased.

They began to learn more, they sent spies and informants to learn of these meetings. Some were lost, others turned in earnest, but enough for survived for the Dragons to know this was a problem. As an answer, they began sending loyal Kobolds, backed by the Dragons seeming enforcers: Lizardfolk. Clever, swift, strong, and a good deal larger than the Kobold, the wily Greenscales lead these parties, and they were occompanied by hulking Blackscales. Huge and muscled, seeming brutes but with a cunning that gleamed in their eyes the Blackscales were not just muscle for these groups. They arrived swiftly and silently to break up the worship and capture as many of the heretics as they could, killing those they could not.

[Ipphli]

Alemar

Alemar reaches up, gently touching his lips, a look of disbelief on his face. He quickly shakes his head and returns to the world. First he sends visions to each of his clerics, no matter the race, visions of fire, murder, and destruction. And through it all one word: Demons.

Alemar gathers up the winds and sends the same message to all of the other gods that he can sense, then flies to the other two Primordials, giving them both the same message in person.

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Greetings! I have come to warn you of a threat to the entire world! An ancient enemy of Aeon has returned to destroy it! These demons are hate incarnate, and they will destroy everything we know and care for. Prepare yourselves and your followers! But beware the demons, for they have the power to gravely hurt us as well.

His message delivered, Alemar sent the birds of the air forth, to find any trace of the demons they could and report back to him. Meanwhile, Alemar searched himself, attempting to locate any concentration of the foul beings that he could.

[Draken]

Captain Grue, Harbinger of Apocos.

Grue soon abandoned the dwarven lands, after many a meeting with the stocky mountain keepers, and headed south, following the shaking of the land, for in the end, the foulspawn were creatures of Apocos, and they went where change and cataclysm could happen.

Past deserts the creature crossed, nimbly teleporting his way out of the mortal clutches of Sallyn's creations in the vast sea of sand, more than once he tried to fish in this sea, more than once did he try to navigate the carcass of a creature, only to find that it just wouldn't move like in the actual sea. More than once he was stung in the tongue by a scorpion he decided to eat.

Until he finally, and quickly, odd enough, reached these new lands, deftly did the great world explorer, crazy creature sprinted the barrens, snatching those fish who did not flee the lifting of the sea floor, until again, the captain was close to the shore, but not a tree was there for him to use as a boat. Not like he wanted to make another boat anyway.

Grue stared into yonder, towards were he knew Terror island, with it's pits of tar and fleshy soil stood, he could even smell the tar... Except it came form the wrong direction. He turned around, to find a pool of the bubbling bile of Aeon next to him, how did he even miss that?

Captn. Grue danced around the bubbling ooze like a lunatic foulspawn. Spat on it, relieved himself on it. And then he saw the pool bubble and a hulk pop out of it. Grue ran, ran and ran, and behind him, more and more foulspawn sprang form the tar pool, and more of the tar erupted like pustulent sores from the ground, foulspawn springing and the terrain taking on the same flesh-like look of Terror Island.

Grue reached the edge, and watched as the land shifted into the aberrant domains of Apocos, he stood next to a rock, and had a moment of mad insight, slashing at the rock with his claws and biting with his teeth, he carved rows after rows of circles and lines on the stone, and then he ran off into yonder. These carvings would remain for eons to come, and one day, maybe, they would be understood, and the wise words of a single grue would enlighten the future generations of stupid loons.

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01000011 01100001 01110000 01110100 01100001 01101001 01101110 00100000 01000111 01110010 01110101 01100101 00101100 00100000 01000101 01111000 01110000 01101100 01101111 01110010 01100101 01110010 00100000 01000101 01111000 01110100 01110010 01100001 01101111 01110010 01100100 01101001 01101110 01100001 01101001 01110010 01100101 00101100 00100000 01110111 01100001 01110011 00100000 01101000 01100101 01110010 01100101 00101110

(2 AP = 4-1-1, Shape Land (Aberrant Basin) and Bless Population (The foulspawn).)

[Lord_Asmodeus]

Meeting, part 2

The explorers had joined with their meeting party, now escorts, and were heading back to the 'big city' the naked Harnne, now not so naked, who had introduced himself as Ailill Mirmore, when they came face to face with a fearsome creature.

Bran acted quickly, partly rashly, and certainly bravely. Many say foolishly, especially among the draconic folk. His first reaction was, of course, to give a shout, and recoil, but his second was to hurl his javelin at the beasts wide chest, but it did nothing.

"What are you!" In his people's odd way, he made his whisper sound as loud as if any other race had yelled.

Ulric, standing next to Grandfather had an urge to say "It's only a model" but managed to restrain himself.

"It looks like... a giant...something-or-other with scales and wings..."
There was a general readying of weapons among humans, who more likely to stab something with their spears rather than waste a chance to do any damage with the pliable metal blades.

Kiltharnus, the Original Brown Male, was surprised to see the creature jump forward and throw the pointed object that glinted in the light. He did not expect it to hurt him, and, as expected, it merely bounced off of his thick hide. These small creatures could not harm it. It spoke in the way of dragons, in a great roar that practically shook the land, and the irony in his words were clear. "No need to shout child, I am standing right here. I am a Brown Dragon, one of this worlds Greatest Creatures. Pray tell, what sort of creature are you?"

"Greatest creature, I can believe that right now, right here. We were a proud race, the Harnnes, but my resolve in my people, I fear, has shrunken somewhat over these last few hours..." hearing the dragon talking in a tongue he could understand made Bran wax eloquent.

Grandfather stepped forward, spear in hand, point up.
"Greatest creature of this world indeed, Dragon.
Why though, would you land among lower creatures when you could soar the air at your leisure?"

Ulric shivered, wondering if his companion was crazy, but Granfather's forbearers were of stronger stuff, all considering that the progenitor of the race had been driven mad and had only felt fear after exposure to the knowledge possessed by the Imp King, this may have been understandable. A definite difference between a giant winged dragon and knowledge beyond mortal ken.

Bran glanced at his new companion, and then, appearing to have grown some, struck a new, more assertive tone. "Why do you land here, when we have never encountered your kind before?

The Ancient Dragon looked down at the creature who spoke and grinned, his huge sharp teeth, like swords, only added to the spikey appearance of it's face. "You seem to have answered your own question little creature. You have never met my kind, and none of my kind that I know of have met yours, and so I was curious. More so, I was curious about that land that appeared recently, the sandy wastes beyond what I have known. It is... beautiful"

"So I have heard. I wish I could have the chance to go see them myself. Ah, to have the ability to fly, it must be glorious." Bran finds himself staring at the dragons great wings, while one hand absent-mindedly fingers the large plate of one of his shoulderblades.

"The Waste is our land, Great Dragon, I doubt you would find it pleasant. It moves about the world." Grandfather mentioned casually.

"The world seems full of wonders, and my land seems sparse of them now. I could show you the Hill of Tyesfri, or some other structure, but no doubt there is a place somewhere else that dwarfs it..." Bran shakes his head.

"The world is indeed full of wonders. Your land is as one of them to me, for until I reached here, I had never seen this much green land in all my days. It makes the oasis at the conclave seem... almost dim by comparison." Grandfather turns to the dragon. "What then would you be doing Dragon? I would rather not have to cross paths with you again, I fear my companions may find it difficult to sleep after this."

"I'm afraid you have little choice in the matter. Your home calls to my blood as the woodlands do a wolf, or the darkness a shadow. I know my kind are destined to live in such lands as your wastes, and it seems the will of our own Father. Farewell small one, perhaps we shall meet again, in time."

The Dragon shook his head. "Yes, flying is truly a gift of the Wyrmfather, and something we often take for granted, mighty as we are. However, I am afraid you are incorrect in your assumptions, wise as they may be. Your land may shift and move but so too has my kind of Dragon, for no other land in all of the world is as suited to us as we are to these... wastes. Truly we were made for such a place, though even the Wyrmfather himself might not have known so when he crafted us. Truly we are beloved of the world. Perhaps it was fortuitous we got to meet one another, for I must say you will be seeing more of my kind in years to come." And with that the Ancient Dragon took to the air, wheeling out of sight back toward the mountains, presumably to bring the rest of it's kin to the Wastes before they decided to move again.

[Maerok]

???, terrible Terror Island

The fellow on the island climbed his way to the seers' cliffs. As if skiing behind his two cliff-crawling dogs he reached the top and snuck up beside the foulspawn elders.

"So... what's on the agenda? Nothing? Good! Now let's see what sort of numbers we have here before I have you all beheading the various fair peoples of..." He looked around. "Wherever... Uuuuuuh. Okay, thousand give or take? Yes? No? Yes? No? Yes."

He sat onto one of the huge mastiffs that he had chained to his wrists. "So! I drew up some proposals. You guys didn't have any sort of stationary- nevermind. I took the liberty of constructing these rigorous diagrams from some sheets of skin." The other dog sat up and held several unrolled scrolls in its mouth. "Now don't quoooote me on this. But! I think we can hunt down and kill, oh, 40% of the world population within the year. All we need..." He grinned, wiggled a finger, and dug through his robes. "Is... a little..."

He pulled out a paper boat (made of skin, but who's counting?) from his pocket. "Creative problem solving!"

[Draken]

Terror Island, Mount Terror

The foulspawn seers stared at the figure, their mouths distorted in eternal grins, and they spoke nothing, merely allowing their minds to expand into the surroundings, each one spekaing a cacophony of thoughts.

"Who you.
Alaraxar. They.
Apocos says. Terror.
They say. Foulspawn.
God. Slaugher.
Primordial. Devour.
Kill. Maim. Protect.
Enemy of Aeon.
Guard of Apocos. Mountain. Command.
Hound of Aeon. Grue knows.
Hounds. Primordial. Hulk. Serve.
God. Titan. God.
Sidhe. Demon.
Kill. Slay. Enemy. Ally.
Kill. All.
Destroy. Remake.
We see. Fang.
We hear. Flame."

-----------

Plains of Bile, Skaldnaya.

The seers over Skaldnaya echoed these same messages, scrambled, for none to hear, however.

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

Apocos, anywhere. Magmatic form and voice.

I know Skylord. Nothing that destroys escapes me. I have made my first move already.

[Maerok]

???, Terror Island

"Oh my gosh... You're one of those different sorts of language folks, right? Oh... Let's see. I certainly don't wish to offend you or your people. You're certainly entitled to your opinion!" From behind his mask he tutted for a while.

"You might say that I represent some of the distinct interests of Alaraxar himself. And 'demon'? What's a demon? I certainly haven't been briefed on that!"

[Draken]

Terror Island Seers

Language? Most definitely not. The foulspawn have nothing in the ways of language, all they do is share their anomalous thought processes with those nearby, and to all who are not foulspawn, hearing to their more cohesive thoughts is a trial that can only be endured so long, because the mental white noise behind it is both random and made of knowledge that other races are not ready to understand. Knowledge the foulspawn seers themselves have, but are unable to harness or understand.

"Demon. Enemy.
Apocos knows.
Destroy. Destroyer. Destruction.
Not like.
Undo. No renewal. Poke, poke, poke...
End. Unmake.
Hate.
Mookan.
Sidhe. Threat.
Foulspawn. Leader.
Seer. Guardian.
Flesh calls to flesh. We, the people.
Bile to bile.
World gives us. Us.
Aeon, commands. Drow.
Destroy. End. Enemy.
Apocos says. Kill.
Alaraxar says. Eat.
You Alaraxar.
It Apocos."

Whenever one of the seers randomly releases "It Apocos" he points to Mount Terror.

The smaller words are the white noise.

[Ipphli]

Ruzor

The aged Ruzorian closed his eyes, enjoying the sun's warmth on his face and the soft wind blowing through the room. A noise at the landing caused him to open one eye to see who it was. The young soldier was just folding his wings when the older man called out to him. "Greetings Ratoza. On time as usual."

The young man walked over and plopped himself down into a chair across the table from the other man. "Greetings to you, Councilor Jalir. I hope you are well this fine day." Jalir snorted as he sat up and looked at Ratoza. "I told you before, you're a member of the Council now too. You know all that formality is only for the public. Now, do you know where Rysis is?"

"Right here. Sorry I'm late brothers. There was much to do at the Hollow today." A tall, strong Ruzorian in flowing robes landed and made his way to the third chair at the table. After settling himself, he glanced at the others. "The vision sent by the Skyfather has troubled many. Many have come to the Hollow to be reassured. As Stormlord, it is my responsibility to help ease their minds."

Ratoza nods. "There has been much unrest amongst the outer settlements. They fear the demons will appear any second. I've already increased patrols around our borders. Word from the centaurs is that their priests have received the same message. They've begun to stay closer to home."

Jalir shakes his head. "And just when we were beginning to finalize trade routes with them. Oh well, I suppose it can't be helped. I've given the other merchants instructions to begin laying in extra supplies, just in case. Thankfully the crops are nearly ready for harvest. Hopefully this whole mess will be straightened out before long."

The Stormlord nodded. "Good thinking, both of you. Anything else we should know?" After getting shakes of the head from both of his comrades, the Stormlord stands. "We'll meet next week then, as always. May the Skyfather watch over us." Muttering the blessing along with him, the other two likewise stand and move to depart, each off to their work.

And so the Council prepared the people for the time of troubles foretold to them by the Skyfather. Arrows and spears were sharpened, the giant eagles were encouraged to breed as fast as possible. Alliances were cemented with our neighbors the centaur. The granaries and warehouses were stocked. Then the hardest part came: the waiting. The Council did its best to help ease the people's minds. However, people still glanced over their shoulders, or hurried where before they'd strolled. People refused to go out at night. Something would have to be done soon, or the Ruzorians would quite possibly turn on themselves in their paranoia...

[Maerok]

???, Terror Island

"Interesting. Continue the good work and you may yet receive a visit from the Hungry One." He rolled up his scrolls and gave a bow. With a flick of the wrist he dropped a blank business card (not so much blank as containing runes yet to be defined) on top of a seer's head. His two dogs took off from the ground and he drifted away behind them.

[Vadin]

Alemar, Near Skalyna's southern coast

Alemar floated above the ocean, the southern coast of the island just visible to the north. He had plans to further, but there simply wasn't the space! The original island just wasn't big enough. And so Alemar tapped that connection he felt to the Gaia Engine. He channeled the energies of the mighty artifact into the ocean floor below.

Soon the waves began churning, until finally a huge mass of barren land thrust itself up from the waters, connecting to the island's southern coast. Having been careful, the landmass was nowhere near the lone island Alemar had spotted near Skalyna.

Used Terraform to create 18 barren land spaces south of Skalyna, opposite side as Terror Island

The people of Gabot certainly felt this great land arise, and they sent many hardy genasi and adaptable munoks to colonize the new earth. It was barren and harsh, however, and the colonists couldn't stray more than a few hundred miles from the jungles for lack of supplies. How they could get this far at all was something of a miracle in and of itself, but they worried not about it. They made the best of a rough situation and watched as the beginnings of grass grew across the barren wastes that filled the new land...


Gabot: Expand 1 square below the mountain they control, 4 squares down along the forests/that one barren square, and 2 more squares down along the east.