Lords of the Elements

[Moody the Wise]

I have no use for weaklings, Liriel. The Forge Master wanted to live in peace, but he failed to understand that we are at war, whether we like it or not. The gods may have been silent thus far, but it will not be long before we come to blows once more. I sense a strength in you, that you will be prepared to fight valiantly when that time comes. Am I mistaken in my appraisal of you, Lady? If I am not mistaken, then you should lose no sleep on my account.

[Innis Cabal]

The Soft Dark

The captains prayer could be heard through the darkness. “Saves me, be it gods or water spirits", Captain Savraan holds his promises” it said.

The darkness grinned, the Soft Dark felt pity for these creatures, tossed about on seas that could not control, could not master. They were mortal after all. Sad little mortals. They needed nurturing, they needed warmth, they needed something to watch them. To guide them. The world was so unkind.

And the sea’s pitched; that thrice damned albatross would be no use here, not as a cross, not as a noose. No rhyme could be said, no poem, no epic translated in any tongue could tell of the journey that befell the mortal men, and The Soft Dark watched them scramble along the deck, the rigging whining and snapping in the wind, the water from the sea no indistinguishable from the water of the waves so violent was the storm. And when all seemed lost, The Soft Dark came. Not in fan fair, not in blasts of sound or triumph. Those were not The Soft Dark’s ways. Let some other Titan make himself appear above mortals as if he was their better. Let some God demand the worship simply because it was what it was. This was not The Soft Dark’s way.

The Captain stood at the wheel, commanding his men, his voice all bout drowned out from the deluge. Soon now….so very soon The Soft Dark thought, his words would be devoured, and there would be silence, and then he would work his power. And that moment came, the roar of thunder and waves, the screaming of men, the pitching and lurching of the ship blended together. Savraan opened his mouth to shout another order. And Darkness came. The first whisper, the first sign was put a single sentence that drifted into his ears as the other sounds ceased.

"No gods, no spirits. Only The Soft Dark. A mortal by any other name is still as fragile."

And the world to him was as nothing, the waves, the boat, the sky a solid black, only lines of white flashing energy marked the edges of what was and what was not. Men were shadows, gray on black, rain simply lines in a world of lines and expanses. And he saw it, standing next to him. The image of a man who was but a boy. The image of a boy who would never grow old enough to be called a man. The best lover he ever held, and his most bitter enemy. The Soft Dark had opened his eyes, peeled away the light that blinded the Captain in the one moment he truly needed to see. The waves did not part as one might think, no perfect method to weather the storm. This was not The Soft Dark’s way.

“Captain. Your men will die.”

The Captain could only stand there, mouth open and filling with water, emotions to varied and erratic to even set to any language we could attempt here.

“What joke is this!” The Captain cried. “I pray and pray for anything! And this?! What sorcery do you wield beast!”

And had the Captain not needed to hold on to the wheel, rest assured he would have struck out against the shadow that was more then shadow. It merely smiled back at him, walking about the men, whispering in the ear of Savraan.

“Do you want your men to die? Captain? You know only you can save them. Gods…creatures, what would it be to give you power? What would you learn? What would you know after the adventure?

Rage filled the Captain, and he screamed to top the will of nature, his hands clenched on the wheel, he could no longer feel it turn in his grip, his knuckles as white as the foam that topped the waves that appeared as teeth set to devour the ship.

“Had I wanted riddles you blasted thing I would have sunk to the bottom and looked into the empty holes in the heads of the dead below! Help me now! I have summoned you! You must help me!”

And the shadow that was not a shadow was before him, pointing ahead of him, that smile never leaving its lips. He had watched the hands of the man who railed against him. Only darkness knew truth, only shade would keep honesty while the light would lie.

“But I have Oh Captain my Captain, your home. You knew the route all along didn’t you? You did. I know you did. Your eyes lied to you, fear played with you. You were a puppet. But your strings….you can see them now.”

The Captain blinked once, and light flooded back into the world, he turned his head, his mouth opening to say the words of thanks, though he was still uncertain exactly how it had happened. Had he navigated the safest route as he had a hundred times before simply because he could not see the storm through his outrage at the heavens? Or had that gentle shadow, that Soft Dark whispered in his ears like he could still hear. The words that no mortal could speak or understand, but could still hear. Was it the feeling of warm hands on his own that steered them to safety, that enveloping shade that made his rain drenched and wave beaten body weary not with strain but of comfort? He did not have time to question, he had no time for thanks, that velvet gloom was already gone, but he could not help but see eyes in ever shadow of his boat as the sun broke through the clouds.

And off in the distance, they could see land. They could see the shore. They had survived. The payment gone, the deed done, The Soft Dark retreated to his Domain, and laughed.

“To climb the highest mountain, it is not the intent of your journey, the dedication of your last travel, or the end of the path you walk that will make certain your success. Dear mortals, dear gods, dear creation there is only one thing that will determine that which you desire. The first step towards it. All one needs to do, is take that first step. What do you have to fear but the light that will blind you from that path? Welcome the embrace of the Darkness, for it seeks only to wrap itself around you. Drape you in the gentle purity of silent repose, and love you for your desire.”

[Feirgon]

Malcolm

And if you are? The words came soon after Ramm had finished responding to Liriel. The voice was child-like and gentle, though full of thought.

Malcolm paused slightly.

Ramm may have eliminated the weakest link in the chain. But who is to say which of us now takes that role?

But would inaction have been a better option? The Forge Master chose to believe the gods of Olympus to be innert and acted as such. Perhaps he was too naive.

There was a much longer pause as Malcolm looked up into the cloud filled sky above his domain.

The actions we take now will echo til our end. For it is what we do that defines us.

[Moody the Wise]

[b]Ah, Malcolm. You always were the wisest among us. I believe you are at least starting to understand the situation. Allow me to clarify slightly. The Forge Master was not the weakest link in our chain; he was not a link at all. The chain cannot be made stronger by removing any of its links. So long as you embrace your place in the chain, you have nothing to fear from me.

[Eldan]

Start of Turn 3

As the smoldering ruins of the Master's great forges slowly fell and crumbled, the last remaining servant, tiny and metallic besides the fallen figure of it's titan. A sudden wind came up, and slowly, grain by grain, the smashed walls, slain creatures and the living drone were carried away. Only the corpse of the Forge Master remained, hollow armour of black metal, and the howling sound of the wind as it blew over the empty suit.

And then, the wind once again carried mortal voices:

The Inquisitor

"I pray to the Twelve, the rulers of the heavenly mountain, creators of heaven and earth.
Since the Days of Wrath, heretics have plagued the land. I know that you are testint our faith with this, and I am more than willing to show you my devotion. But I have tracked these heretics for seven days and seven nights. Now that I have burned them, what would you have me do? I desire guidance, oh Enlightened Ones, as you have given us in the days when men still were blessed by your power.

Spoiler

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This summoning is special. This inquisitor will, of course, refuse to follow any creature that seems "demonic", i.e. originating from the titans, to him. However, any creature that convinces him that it is of divine origin will be certain of his loyalty.
Therefore, the following checks are required:
-Trickery (medium difficulty) to appear sufficiently "divine"
-Intelligence (hard) to remember sufficient information about the gods to appear as their servant.
-Persuasion (medium difficulty) to convince him of following orders.

The reward is a cultist (with high stats in persuasion and willpower) that can operate without having to make trickery checks against the inquisition.

[Moody the Wise]

Ramm sat on a large rock, once part of the Forge Master's impressive defences, and watched as all that the fallen Titan had built was slowly but surely torn asunder by the winds of Chaos, until all that remained was Ramm, the rock, and the corpse of the Forge Master, his empty eye sockets staring back up at Ramm. So it goes. I'll have a new drone in here to clean things up soon. Goodbye, Forge Master. Ramm felt the Chaos calling to him once more, and knew he must answer. He walked over to the very edge of the Forge Master's domain, where the winds of Chaos swirled violently, and then took one more step.

[Innis Cabal]

((Typing out actions, will get fluff later)

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Raise 3 sparks to souls
Create 2 more alps
Create 1 Familiar
1 Spark will build pit trap
1 Spark will build pit trap
Neb. Alp will hearth its location
Alp will hearth its location
Familiar wil hearth its location
The Soft Dark spends its two turns researching Arcane

[Ambon]

Wolves and Lions

She rode with them now towards the village, face veiled except for the black wells that were her eyes. They slowed and stopped just far enough away from the nervous defending bowmen to be safe. Nivek, his second, spat on the ground and cursed so loud it startled his hungry horse.

"Look! They're prepared. We took to long getting here, even riding our horses to exhaustion. And for what?" Nivek's hand went to the holy symbol sown into his fur, and he gave a hard look at the holy woman. "Reading stars! Daubing stones with auroch blood! Useless oaths to new gods..."

The woman returned Nivek's look with more malice than he thought was possible. Her spirit was strong and her eyes were strange so that even proud Nivek had to look away.

"Not new gods, but a great power. Our lord has blessed you for your courage, and you quail before villagers. Are you not Ashraiders? Burning Men? What do you have to fear from this rabble?"

"This rabble is prepared and armed. No spirit's blessing will defend a rider from a spear to the chest."

"The Master's blessings are many, and by faith I shall divine a weakness in their defenses. You need only to obey."

"We shouldn't need to. If we had ridden hard straight from the victory at the pass, they-- "

He raised his hand and Nivek shut up. Still, he was clearly upset and would have killed this woman. The woman, on the other hand, seemed unusually calm. Insulted by Nivek's disobedience, but otherwise the black eyes and veiled face betrayed nothing. He looked to the rest of his men, their faces like stone sculptures - stoicism trained from a hard campaign - but he knew them well. They trusted Nivek, knew that he was right. Riding hard after the victory at the pass, still feeling exuberance of victory, they imagined themselves sweeping into defenseless village and killing sleeping men. Now everything was different.

But the woman was a power, certainly. She had read the stars and learned his name. And his raiders were a superstitous group. How could a woman such as she, wild but with hands soft like courtesan, who subsisted on nothing but air while they hunted and ate well (her lord, she said, favoured them), not be holy?

She must be a spirit, or the servant of a spirit. Not a god, but a great power, who asked for nothing but obedience, and victory in the Master's name.

"Ask your lord what we should do, and we shall follow you."

***

The initial charge had failed. The horses were tired and the way had been trapped. Nivek was right, they were well prepared. Even the second charge, striking at a gap in their line, had resulted in nothing but the death of two of his men and him being unhorsed. But the woman still rode, her mount unusually agile, rallying his men to keep fighting.

He stayed close to her, defending her while his men tried to form around him. The soldiers they fought commanded the villagers well and countered by attempting to encircle him and separate him and the woman from the rest of his men. He watched an arrow arc in the air and land in the throat of one of his raiders and he realized there could be no victory here, only survival. She had failed them.

But there was still a chance. Get away, escape into the wilderness and catch them off guard another time. He parried a blow from a crude spear and struck
back, burying his sword deep in a gap in the damaged chainshirt of his attacker. Pulling his weapon out, he looked across the battle to his second, still on his horse and trying to lead the others to him. If he could only get a horse.

He turned around and tried to pull the holy woman off her horse, and somehow failed. Unthinking he attempted to behead her and instead chopped of part of her arm, a fountain of heavy black blood. No - black sap? Heavy and hot, it covered his arm and burned him. The sword was stuck, as if in the caught in the trunk of a tree. His heart shattered as he looked her her eyes - a demon? But there was still hope, if he could use his weight and the sword, pull her --

She separated leader of the raider's head from his neck and pulled his sword from her arm, where it immediatedly healed itself. The battle paused, the
village defenders unsure of what to do, buying Nivek and the remaining raiders time to run escape into the woods. And the woman escaped as well, back into the Chaos of her domain.

Spoiler

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Sorry for the delay, I was out of town for a few days and didn't have time to work on a reply

[Eldan]

Accidents happen

"I heard the gods don't answer our prayers, but that greater powers have returned...
My Lord Father died, three days ago, from the pox. My older brother will succeed him after the funeral, but he is not fit to rule at all...
He is rash, uncouth, gross and rude. He caries this absurdely huge warhammer whereever he goes, to negotiations and when visiting other lords, when every rule of hospitality claims he should lie it down at their door.
These are tough times, and the land needs a leader, not a fighter. I am born younger, but my tutors agree that I am exceptional...
I can not meet my brother in combat, but if an accident were to happen, I would be most grateful."

Spoiler

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This mission automatically gives a cultist, one who is a noble at that and has some influence.
To succeed, first, a trickery check of medium difficulty is needed, followed by either a combat check (hard) or a control check (medium).

[Innis Cabal]

The Soft Dark answers the prayer of the Inquisitors

[Feirgon]

Malcolm

Malcolm stepped onto the surface of the yellow lake. Ripples cast themselves out as he took each step. They met with the edge of the lake and the black rock that supported the mysterious silver flower in the center of the lake. As he got closer to the flower, it blossomed and revealed an ornate set of pale blue armor.

Hm. Well I do like the color.

Each piece of the armor fit perfectly over his boyish form. The vines and leaves engraved upon the scales of the armor glistened in the pale yellow light reflecting off the lake. As Malcolm placed the helm upon his head he heard the echoes of mortal prayers.

Not my usual style. But to turn down a gift from the Chaos would be foolish.

Plus, my usual style left me entrapped by the will of those who now claim my home as their throne.

The sombre look in his eyes faded to determined focus. Then he turned away from the silver flower and walked back into the Chaos.

[Ambon]

The Writhing Master

As the Master returned from his failed adventure into the mortal world, he heard the great clamour of battle and the Forge Master's plea as Ramm destroyed the Titan. The Master let out a gurgling laugh while listening to her fellow Titans condemn the Titan of Law for his fratricide as he responded with assurances and reasons.

Unable to contain his pleasure, the Writhing Master let out a sibilant call across Chaos:

"Ramm seeks to discipline and punish! To discipline the very personifications of Chaos! See his determination, my fellow Titans; it is unbending like the metal he commands. But it is not irresistable. Even the most steadfast judge may fall to corruption and the strongest metal can be reduced to rust.

You killed the Forge Master to make us strong. Very well. But be aware, just as surely as we use this strength to rise up against the upstart gods, so we shall defeat you should you seek to take their place above us."

Still hissing with pleasure, the Writhing Master looked again at the mortal realm. The other Titans had successfully established themselves already while he had consistently failed. Deciding that this was unacceptable, the Writhing Master gather his power and magic around him as he prepared to enter the world of men.

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The Writhing Master responds to the Inquisitor

[Eldan]

New Turn:

An incantation in a language no mortal should know echoes throughout Chaos. After it is finished, the mortal continues in the Common language: "O great Titans of old, hear my plea. Knowledge is what I seek. And I offer a prayer for your answers."

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First summoning by a summoner. A prayer is equivalent to one power point, by the way.

[Feirgon]

Malcolm

As he watched the Einherjar walk out of the demiplane, Malcolm thought to himself.

They had been silent and still since the old days. Had they awaited our return?

They had been beholden to us in the past, would they now fight for the gods now seated upon Olympus?

Malcolm changed his focus upon the Chaos around him.

What purpose have you set for us?

The Chaos didn't respond, but he didn't expect one.

As the echoes of human prayer reached out, Malcolm trekked back to his domain.

[Deathslayer7]

Mother Earth watched as her domain grew larger, and everyday, she grew more powerful.

She looked out to Mount Olympus and wondered if the Titans would suceed together to destroy them, or would only one be left standing. Sighing, she headed back inside her domain, to continue her research.