A god am I

[Woodsman]

Arad-jager

The Hunter appears in the Astral Plane, deciding his time has come. With a simple thought, a massive tree grows in the Astral Plane, becoming the Elemental Plane of Wood. From here, the Hunter will do as he needs.

The animals of the world come next. Beasts of land, sea, and sky are all created. Arad-jager then decides to rest in his new plane, observing al of creation.

AP used:

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3 for creating a plane, 6 for creating sea, sky, and land animals.

[zerombr]

Lukica, the Inheritor At home in the Font of Inspiration, 3 AP available

Upon seeing the pair of raccoons that are Gallat appear in her home. Lukica drops her hammer to the ground, with a groan, "Enough....crowded here." The statement seems rather weak, considering the colossal scope of her spherical workshop, about the size of two football fields, but nevertheless she shakes her head in dismay and motions to an appearing doorway.
Taking the artifact in her hands, she leaves her shop, mentally reminding herself to ban anyone from entering it so easily. She finds a nice quiet spot, where the energy eddies are not so active. Using the most malleable content of the area to her whim, she forms a bowl shaped coliseium of some sort, with several steps leading from several blank podiums, currently numbering six spots. She takes a spot for herself, then looks around. With a frown, she conjures up some sort of clockwork golem...in pieces, with which she immediately starts fiddling with. The artifact itself sits in the very center of the arena, a representation of the world above it.
Lukica pauses, noticing rough grooves and bumps along the planet now, and examines it. "What is this?" She says, looking at the mountains, "Who did this?"

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our lord of Wyrms hasn't posted his arrival, so until then I haven't seen him arrive

Free Action: Manipulate Creation Plane, create Concave of the Gods

[Alber]

Avatar of Gallat, the Material Plane

As Gallat oversaw his creations' progress, he noticed a dramatic increase in the number of creatures to inhabit his forest. "Strange..." Gallat said to himself, "...I suppose this must be the work of one of the others, but these creatures are all very different from one another...whoever created them must be very...focused."

Gallat, the Plane of Creation

Gallat found himself immediately being shooed out of the workshop and, not knowing of anything else to do, decided to follow Luckica. After seeing Luckica's surprise at the new formations on the world, Gallat's mouths upturned into an odd smile. Of course, he knew who the culprit was, but for now, he simply mimiced Luckica's action of claiming a podium and decided it would be better for the news to come straight from the Dragon's mouth.

[Alber]

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Sorry about the double-post, but I didn't want drake to have to wait

Gallat, Concave of the Gods

Gallat tapped on the podium impatiently, not liking to stay in one place for so long. The fact that he was currently nearly powerless did not help matters either. He found himself experiencing something that he had not felt during his short existence...frustration. Curious of this new feeling, he began to explore it, thinking more and more on this emotion, but the more he dwelled on it, the more it grew. He thought of how indignantly he had been treated by Draco...how caulously he had been dismissed by Luckica...and a million other minor annoyances began to weigh on his mind as he felt them grow from frustration, to anger, to pure hate.

At this point, Gallat realized that this hatred would drive him to insanity if he allowed it to continue, so he attempted to quell it. Unfortunately, not knowing how to do this, he found himself only becoming more and more angry with himself for not being able to handle it. His teeth clenched and his claws sinking into the podium, he finally tried to deal with the problem by expelling it. He turned to his more ethreal side and thrust his hand into its mouth, eventually digging out a black, formless mass which he imediately threw to the ground. Immediately, his anger subsided, and his curiosity piqued once again, as he watched the...thing he had pulled out of himself.

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Not sure if I have to spend the 3 AP for a player-god, but if I do, I'll deduct it from next weeks points

[zerombr]

Lukica the Inheritor at the Conclave of the Gods, 3 AP

Lukica keeps fiddling with the mechanical golem as she waits for the others to arrive...but time is a funny thing in the plane of her own creation, as only Gallat arrives. She considers to herself, that maybe she didn't express herself clearly when she wanted everyone out of her home. "They're probably stealing all my stuff..." Lukica thinks to herself.
She fumes to herself as she puts a few gears together, the delay of the others agitating her. Lukica looks across the conclave to Gallat, noticing a similar frustration before he vomits up...something.
It intrigues her enough that she abandons her post, her attention leaving the construct, causing it to fall to pieces behind her. She didn't mind, it was simply a tool used to avoid having to directly focus on her bretheren. Lukica makes a mental note to explore the concept of invention further, and teach it to her children.
She approaches the divinely conjoined raccoon(s), stopping before the black puddle. With the greatest interest of her advanced intellect, she attempts to analyze it with the tools available....she pokes at it with a metal pole to see if it does anything.

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For those of you less-than-principled gods that have not made your own race, Lukica does have several protoforms in her laboratory that may be used.

[lesser_minion]

Medea, Conclave of the Gods

Suddenly realising Lukica's meaning, Medea quickly walks outside. Seeing the puddle of blackness, she stops, puzzled. The mass seems relatively dangerous, and a dark sense of foreboding comes over the goddess.

"It seems like the trials will begin soon.", she mutters to herself.

[Fan]

Wharheit Nagilmund


True Iron, looks down at the puddle for a second before infusing some of his energy (2 AP) into the artifact, and going to aid his steel sons in their quest for prefection.

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2 Ap on the artifact
2 ap for a nourish people
2 AP left

((sorry for the shortness,))

[Alber]

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Whoa! That was fast...

Gallat watched his fellow gods study his..."creation", slowly starting to piece together what it was.

"Please do not agitate the potential being." He calmly said to Luckica, then, quietly, "Especially considering what it was born from..." There was a slight hint of fear in his words, especially after hearing and contemplating Medea's statement.

[zerombr]

Lukica the Inheritor same as before ^^


She stops prodding the puddle, with a frown. It reminds her of her own primordial stage from not so long ago, however she can feel its....malevolence. She watches it for a few moments more, obviously uneasy with its mere presence until Whar empowers her artifact even further.
She returns to the ring and ball, giving it a final look over, ensuring each minor detail before nodding. She places her hand upon the ring, infusing it with her own power, the gift of progress. The artifact taps into the power of the Plane of Creation, rising up off the makeshift ground supplied. The ring spins about the sphere in an ever rotating fashion.
Lukica floats upward to the model of the planet and artifact. She grasps the simlacrum of her creation, moving it, causing the true Heart of the World to move as well, travelling to the Material Plane. With a great heft, she launches it towards the planet, seeking the deepest parts of the ocean.
Like a meteor, the Heart glows brightly as it enters the atmosphere, burning a fiery white, as it trails over the continent, directly overhead her own Protean race before slamming into the water. Its descent isn't slowed a pace as it hurtles throught the water, bubbling and superheating all the water in the immediate vicinity.
It crushes into the planet's crust, burrowing through it into the mantle, sending tremors into the surrounding area. As it gets closer to the core, magma shoots out around it, flooding upward through the tunnel and above. As the magma rapidly cools, it forms a small island at the surface.
The Heart itself settles itself into the planet's core, forming a connection to the Plane of Creation to the planet itself, easing the three gods control of the planet.
The island created mere moments ago already thrives with plant and small animal life, flourishing in the short span of 5 years.

The godling's power spent, she yawns as she sags to the ground, seemingly ready to sleep for a few years.

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Infused Artifact (Heart of the Planet) with 2 AP, and used it. 1 AP spent on Mold Terrain. 0 AP left.

[DrakebloodIV]

In the shadows of another mans soul Raynoros hides, feeling the blackness inside himself and wishing to bring its power to another man. He feels the inside of the mans soul, searching for what he knows not... Finally, he finds it. A set of seventeen silver strings, the strings of the heart. He plunked one of his favorites: the string of jealosy, and a tense chord came out. He began striking others: Suspicion, angst, fear, rage and finally hatred. With that final note, he felt a massive lurch. The heart lurched and he felt himself being expelled from the being. He fell to the ground. He felt weak, his body not formed, a shapeless black ooze. In the outside air it was cold and bright. He found that his form was a shapeless mass. He focused with all his might and formed a hand. He reached out to one of the beings around him. He pulled himself up and found that he was looking into the eyes of a beautiful female. He began to define his shape around him, his legs became more well defined, though still clad in black. His arms became muscular and lean, his chest gained definition and a black adamantium breastplate.

"Hello there, who are you?"

[Alber]

Gallat stared at the recently defined mass with an expression on his face that might someday be referred to as the deer-in-the-headlights look for some time before finally regaining his composure. While he had determined that the ooze might take on form, and even that it might be divine itself, he had not expected for it to take shape so quickly, not to mention the fact that he was already clad in armor.

The god chuckled to himself a bit as he calmed himself down before saying, "And just as I was about to lose interest. You are rather polite for something that I coughed up, aren't you?"

Meanwhile, Gallat's other body, ever watching elsewhere so nothing would escape his notice, even while his primary body's attention was focused, took notice of Lukica's work. Curious, that body's mouth asked simply, "What was that, exactly?" then, as an afterthought, "And on that note, who are you?"

[kopout]

Vorm, Conclave of the Gods
Vorm had been lost in his own thoughts and had almost missed the call to the Conclave. He had seen the hart sent down and now sent after it his own contribution, that is would be exempt from his activity lest the need be truly dire.
Then, like the others, he turned to look at the new god , for god it was , probably.

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10 ap =+2 from rollover -2 to artifact

[zerombr]

Lukica the Inheritor 0 AP +3 AP +1 from Faith = 4 AP

The weary godling recovers finally and stands back up, dusting herself off...though there is no dust here. She first looks over the planet model, checking on it apparently, when Gallat asks a simple question.
She pauses, a confused look on her face. She never had really bothered with the concept of self-identity, but it was only natural to be known, how else could someone talk to her. Its not if anyone could use her symbol that she chose in pleasant conversation. The Inheritor continues to think in this for a moment, listening to her Protean race, finding their name for her...
"Lukica..." She says awkwardly, giving Gallat a wary look as if she were lying, or at the very least, said the incorrect answer. Now on to the far more important question the dual raccoon had asked. "It...was..."
She then notices the armored dark figure that was standing there all this time, and freezes. She spreads her arms out in front of the globe, as if to hide it from him with her body, failing to do so quite comically. He's civil at least, so she attempts communication, (not her strong suit)
"Who are..?" She struggles with the question directed to the Raynoros

Summary: Answer a few questions, and feel stupid that she can't communicate properly.

[Fan]

Wharheit Nagilmund


The god of craft looked down upon the world of the Steel sons, and felt that they needed something to motivate them...Some great example to compare their own works to.
Thus, Wharheit conjured a mighty hammer, and a delicate chisel out of his own being, and set to work creating a beautiful statue of each of the gods he had met that week on the plane of creation. Not the gods in their own apperances, but what their inner beauty truly represented. Lukcia came out as a stunning alchemist hard at work at some new creation of hers, himself a a well toned steel son with ruby eyes, and a streak of Electrum down his back, Gallat as a kind huntsman freeing a wounded animal from a trap, and Vorm as the firm guard watching over it all, waiting for the day when he would be needed most.

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3 AP spent to create the statues of the overly kind looking pantheon...
This is all one giant work of magnificent art, and it lays down a guide populace every week. It tells them to promote progress, gives them advice in times of war, and other nice advice...
2 AP spent for a nourish populace
1 AP left

[kopout]

Seeing Lukica's plight Vorm said to Raynoros " what the lady is trying to say is 'who or what are you?'personally I think you are a god like our selves.but I could be wrong. Absent mindedly Vorm was aware of a faint tuginng on his power perhaps nothing , perhaps not.

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Tialait mumbles is being created and I am partially contributing any one else in on creating "the divine comidean"?

[Lady Tialait]

Mumbles, Not existing..or is he?

Wrapping his long string-like arms around himself, the Dark Jester watched.

"Soon I will be born, and then I'll make something of...the world. A joke. A big joke. Everyone will bow before the sheep, and a monkey shall eat a whale."

Mumbles starts to snicker uncontrollably.

"I will be born, and then I'll bring the end to them all. It will be great, I'll see them in the end. The last laugh. Yes. So wonderful."

Mumbles broke out in divine laughter that echoed throughout the universe, well it would had. If in fact Mumbles was born, or perhaps he was born? Are you as sane as you claim? Mumbles won't tell....everyone.

[lesser_minion]

Medea with the other gods - The Conclave of the Gods

Medea stepped back as she watched the warlike figure of Raynoros form from the puddle, seemingly horrified. She wanted to leave now, to get out, to have as little to do with the Tyrant as possible.

The damage had been done, however. Even standing within a few feet of something which she considered anathema had caused something to change deep within her soul. Something that seemed to take a perverse delight in the trouble that this being could cause. Something that seemed to steal power from the others - crawling and stealing power from their minds as well.

Her mind felt like it was being consumed by the same dark impulse, something that crawled and seemed to attach itself to her soul. She spoke, barely able to control her own power.

"I am truly sorry..."

By now, the shadows seemed to be returning, covering her form in darkness and despair. Drawing upon every last shred of her divine willpower, she seemed to be surrounded by an aura of radiant power - the darkness which had somehow crept into her divine form. With a final, gargantuan effort, she suddenly vanished, leaving behind a lingering, cloying dark matter. A sound of laughter seemed to fill the entirety of the plane.

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I think that's Mumbles' cue...

Medea - The Material Plane

Even the birth of the tyrant god had changed Medea - she had almost fallen victim to the same darkness that had threatened to claim Gallat - but how?

She was still horrified by what she had done - her own soul, her own essence had rebelled against her. Even the wisdom of ensuring that somebody was there to protect the peoples of the world would not be enough if this was to be the fate of every creator.

She had fled to the waters of a pool within the realm of the Songtouched, somewhere secluded and tranquil. Somewhere she could gather her thoughts and work out what to do next. She could feel the first hints of conflict coming into the world, and she knew that many would die over the coming centuries.

There would be those, both among the mortals and among the gods, who would seek to profit from the coming deaths. Something that struck Medea as utterly reprehensible.

Medea spoke once again directly to the minds of her people. The guardians taught themselves the arts of warfare - how to craft weapons and how to defend themselves, and that they were only to fight as a last resort. She made more of the songtouched into Guardians as well, realising that they would be useful, especially when they met the Dragons.

This done, she climbed out of the pool. Her appearance seemed to have changed slightly, her hair lightening to a brown, although with a few much darker streaks. She now wore loose, flowing clothes - a silky, dark coloured skirt, seemingly worn over a light-coloured sleeveless dress. A pair of ominous, dark-feathered wings manifested for a second, before disappearing once more, replaced by a coat of what seemed to be pure darkness . It would be some time before Medea appeared before the other gods again.

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4 AP from rollover.
0AP beget player god (Mumbles)
3AP evolve physically (can now manifest the wings she gets as a class feature, plus some improbably cool clothes.)
1AP guide populace

0/5 AP remaining.

[zerombr]

Lukica the Inheritor sitting at a cool 0 AP

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Rollover is amount of posts you made that reflect faith up to your max. I made the only post last week and get 1 FP, hence 1 AP.... That's kinda lame, you know, but I digress

Lukica frowns to herself after her work with the great Heart has completed. Her eyes light up at a thought, then, as wordless and accidentally callous as always. She simply twinkles out of existence into a mote, then zips up to the planetary model and with it, enters the Material Plane, landing in the settlement of her own chosen Protean.
Lukica looks over the loose settlement of her people, the buildings seeming to be more stable and permanent than before, paths have been built and there seems to be a worthwhile trade system. Lukica seems pleased at the events so far, noting some of the workers hauling in some of the sea life she had created for them.
Reaction to her appearance was light, perhaps even muted at their creator's arrival. She nods satisfactory at them, beckoning them to her. A small group of the more noted inventors and imaginative ones follow her out of town. She pauses, considering the town itself, and in retrospect judges it to be something worthy of her time and effort, and makes a note to add communities to her causes.
Lukica leads them out to the foothils of the nearby mountains where she produces a wand wordlessly, digging a hole into the hill. She leads then further into the shaft, light glowing from another wand of hers. Small braces appear to support the tunnel. Eventually she stops by a shining glitter in the stone. She motions silently to it....Iron ore. Using the previous wand she molds the earth, specifically in this case, the ore into a travelling ball, that follows her up to the surface. She returns with them in tow back to town. Within a few minutes work at the primitive forge, she hammers the pigiron into a simple knife. Sure it wasn't good true smelted iron, but it'll do for them for now. The lesson given about mining, she leaves them to experiment upon it, learn it for themselves.
She returns to the Conclave of the Gods, only a few moments having passed in the Plane of Creation.

summary: spend 1 AP to teach the Proteans how to mine.

[Lady Tialait]

Mumbles The Conclave of Gods

Standing beside Medea was the Divine Comedian, his arms waving in the wind and his eyes piercing the air with a glare that would melt metal.

"You are a silly little thing, and I pity you forever. However, I am a mongoose and never to be trusted."

Mumbles smirked, giggling to himself.

"Perhaps a riddle."

Mumbles giggle started to control him again.

"What is black and white and red all over?"

Mumbles fell to the ground laughing, shaking the chamber of the Gods.

[lesser_minion]

Soran, Guardian, The Shining Peaks

The three songtouched had been travelling for days, hoping to meet with one of the majestic creatures that dwelled within the Shining Peaks - the mountains some way to the south of Haven. One of Soran's companions was also a guardian - an expert healer and protector. One of them was a minstrel, incredibly well-versed in the song of the world. Soran was a guardian himself but he was also extremely well-built, and kept a huge spear held in both hands.

Before them loomed the entrance to a cave - they had been guided here, to the lair of a mighty dragon, by the signs and portents cast by the three. It was time to see if it was friendly.

OOC -

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Actually, Lukica has full AP (5/5). You get 1 ap per Faith Point you gained - my post above is worth 2 FP because I Guided a Populace and roleplayed an encounter with the gods.

You also get 2 AP for being a demigod, and 1 AP for having evolved. Plus, you keep any AP you had left over, up to your maximum.

[Aldgar]

An Unborn Goddess with no Name
In the nothingness of the Void of Unreality, a single spark flared to life.

It was still weak, bearing a faint glow, yet it somehow knew that it was soon destined to transcend the borders of creation to reach Reality.

For now, it was nothing more than a shimmering point of astral potential, one that waited for its time...

[Alber]

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I apologize for the length, but I had a dream concerning this whole thing and HAD to post it. As a result, I may have gone into more detail then was probably necessary.

Avatar of Gallat, the Material Plane

Gallat's mundane avatar worked non-stop teaching, and guiding his people directly, specifically concerning the arts of concealment, including a method not normally accessible to mortals: magic. However, as he taught his rapidly expanding people, he found himself...disappointed. The reason for this escaped him, but as he watched his people it became more and more obvious to him. When he looked into the vast lake near the largest Arkun settlement, he saw everything...the lakebed, the plantlife and all manner of creatures that inhabited it he saw unhindered. When he looked into the earth to see the bounty of crystals his people had not yet discovered, he saw everything...the bits and minute sediments, every detail of their composition. When he looked into the eyes of his people, he saw everything...their individual thoughts, hopes, dreams, desires, fears, everything as clear to him as an open book.

And he became angry.

He could not stand the fact that such things were so open. Where was the mystery? Where was the uncertainty? Where was the possibility for discovery? Knowing what had happened the last time he felt this, he knew he had to immediately rectify it. Across the world, suddenly such things were not so clear...water, smooth surfaces, and other such things that satisfied certain conditions became reflective; their surfaces no longer showing what what behind it, but instead revealed the one who peered into it. Thus, the onlooker would be preoccupied with himself and his surroundings, with only the most inquisitive wondering what was on the other side.

In addition, he made the eyes of his own followers the most pure of reflective surfaces, natural "mirrors", so that their eyes would not so easily betray their inner workings by those who could see such things. Instead, those of other races that peered into the eyes of an Arkun, would see their own inner selves, who they truly are.

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Create concept or possibly mold land? Will spend 3 AP anyway for creating reflections. Also, made the Arkun immune to non-divine mental probing. Not sure how that would be put game mechanics-wise or if it even really applies. If I would need to spend AP to do that I will if asked. Continued in next post.

[Alber]

Gallat, Conclave of the Gods

In reaction to the actions done by his avatar on the material plane, Gallat was suddenly struck with inspiration. Instantly, he sped off away from the Plane of Creation and away from any other plane to an expanse of unclaimed void. There, his two bodies floated in meditation until his will began to take form.

Meanwhile, Gallat's avatar formed a small pool of water on an island in the middle of Gallat's Mirror, the great lake in the forest of Arkun. This pool was the only one in the world without a reflecting surface, for it was a portal to the new realm of Gallat. After doing this, Gallat's avatar gave specific orders to his followers that they were forbidden to travel to that island.

On the ouskirts of the new plane, there was created a great maze of mirrors. Each one representing one of the thousands of decisions made by he who looks in it. Thus, the maze itself changes slightly in it's expanse depending on the mortal/mortals that enter it, but it's effect are always the same. Whenever a victim looks into a mirror, the knowledge of the corresponding decision is suddenly thrust into the gazers' head, and they will see a reflection of what they MIGHT have been, if they had made that decision differently. For some of the mirrors, there may be no change, but others may have far more shocking images in their surfaces.

Deeper in the maze, the reflections change. This rather short expanse of the maze shows an important memory to the onlooker. Should the victim have had a happy, normal life, this stretch may only be a small nuisance, but for those with more traumatic pasts, being forced to relive it can prove to be too much for ones sanity.

Finally, the maze-goer reaches the last trial in the maze. These mirrors show the might-have-beens. What would have happened if the observer had been born as a different race? A different alignment? A different gender? More attractive? Less attractive? Wealthy? Poor? Unlike the first part of the maze, this one deals more with things that are out of the maze-goers' control. However, it hides a sinister trap. Should a looker find themselves peering into a particular mirror for too long, they might find themselves switched with the self in the mirror. Upon this occurance, the reflection will immediately be thrust from the plane, while the "real" self is trapped there.

Should a mortal somehow make it past those obstacles, they will come to the inner sanctum of the plane: Gallat's own home, which, being formed from the ever-changing thoughts of the god, could have nearly any landscape. However, once there, any mortal is safe from harm, both mentally and physically, and need only wait for the god to notice their presence to come to them and offer a great reward to the mortal for their efforts and ability to keep their sanity through his illusions. This reward extends to his own people, of course, despite his command of it being forbidden. Gods, of course, may come straight to the inner sanctum of the plane, since they are not bound by a mortals memories, feelings, or bodies.

His work finished, Gallat remained in his plane, shaping it and experimenting with it's ebbs and flows.

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2 AP for creating The Soul's Reflection. 2 AP for creating portal to said plane. 0 AP left.

[zerombr]

Lukica the Inheritor, Conclave of the gods 4 AP

Again a cretinous spawn of her bretheren has appeared. She winces at the thought of another begotten whelp like this, shying away from Mumbles.
What has happened that has caused us to shed ourselves such as this? Is there such great need for disorganization? She thinks. It must be the chaos...we were born from it, the astral energy had a cosmic balance...we tipped the scale
"Balance..." She says to herself, forcing herself to speak. "Balance...needs.." Oh for the love of the process, why can't I talk like them? Why do these words not flow from me as my thoughts do? "Purge...purge chaos." It's plainly obvious we need to harness the power of this imbalance and keep it rightfully in our favor! I will not allow these asinine chaospawn to interfere with my work.
Frustrated at herself, she clutches her head and dismisses herself from the Conclave and its foul inhabitants, returning to her true home of the Font of Inspiration. She studies the flux of creation from her table, watching energy pour forth into the plane, gazing into it, hoping to learn some subtlety, some insight. She models out ideas in the creationstuff that floats around, hoping to find a way to entrap this need the universe seems to have to create dark counterparts.
Nothing comes to mind for the moment to her, but looking over her previous work, she notices a set of tubes, horns almost that she had made for her people. A set of tubes, interconnected that would allow instantaneous communication from town to town... Knowledge would flow so freely between my people, protection, in an instant. She pauses, Will they too have dark sides? I must prepare them for war, and soon....They have the best arms, and can adapt to all fights, but is that enough?
She returns to her people, back upon the Material Plane, gifts in her arms.

As before, a small crowd of scholars flock around her, eager to learn anew at their goddess' request. She infuses a few spells of communication into the horn-like tubing, then presses it into the ground. The tube rapidly digs several miles to the nearby neighboring village, sprouting up there as well. She pauses again, How can I tell them they are needed to fight so soon? How can I even talk to them?
She places her hand upon the tube, and thinks, her thoughts turn to words, spoken to both cities, "My children of evolution..." Hundreds suddenly turn attention to her words, for this is the first time she has spoken to them, gathering the entire towns, as others outside of town, fishing or gardening are yelled for, to witness her words.
"My children, dark forces are on the rise, the duality of order and chaos has been upset by my bretheren's focus on creation, upon progress. I fear it will be very soon in which you will be called upon to protect yourselves, but sooner still that you will march against dark forces, to keep their taint from my world."
A rugged looking Protean with sandy dark hair steps forward, showing the hidden signs of intellect, and of strength. "Great maker..." He kneels grandly as he speaks, "Have faith in us still, we are your children, and your gifts spring forth in is anew with every birth. We have learned the ways of forging, we have learned the way to adapt to all things. Any matter of war will be adapted to, as the will has commanded. We have slewn fierce beasts that dwell here, we hunt within the woods of the unseen watches, and we thrive. War will not tame us."

Lukica shakes her head, "War will require more from you than I have given, leaders are needed, planning, tactics...these things you have not practiced upon for they have not been needed, there is no time for years of conceptualization, they must stand to bear soon. And so I shall imbark upon you all the knowledge needed. Lorn, come before me."
The Protean who had spoken before, steps forward, his eyes cast aside as he kneels again, down to her height. "Lorn, the elders and inventors have guided the towns for progress, but you shall be the first to guide them in war" She puts a finger to his head, divine inspiration flooding his mind, "You shall marshall our forces, and shall show to others the way to scout and skirmish with the dark forces that shall arrive. I must return now, to contain this outbreak before it continues."

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Summary: Have a long winded post, use a free action to make some nice communication stuff for the guys, spend 3 AP to create the Marshall and Scout classes for the guys.

[Lady Tialait]

Mumbles Wherever he is.


"Everyone burns, as they all scream. Burning away, singing to me."

Mumbles looked at the world.

"Everyone burns! Yeaaaah yeaaaah!"

Mumbles threw several balls of insanity, driving several of the Arkun insane.

"Burn them all down, as my hatred reigns!"

Dancing in the sky Mumbles drove Arkun after Arkun insane.

[Draken]

Astral Sea, Reality's own fringe.

Behold. Behold thee who are so far away, behold thee who are omniscient, but who cannot see.

Behold the void, the vast, the empty. But behold not that which is, even through it shouldn't.

What godforsaken nightmare of an existance could it be that spawns such a terror to behold, something so dire, so vile in it's own countenance. Something that has no description but it's own very name.

Kethkress.

What could this be, this which is endless, which is infinite in it's miriad of nightmarish shapes, which has fangs and eyes and horns and thorns, tentacles and arms, and legs and stalks. That which has no skin, yet is made of it. Which has no heart but pumps it's bile of blood still.

The Warper, the Warped, the Beast of Flesh, the Leviathan of teeth.

Behold thee, as the abominable entity purges itself from the cosmos, or purges the cosmos from itself. Who's to know? Is infinity smaller? Is endlessness enlarged? Even so, what would be the matter.

Behold... Not!.

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(Kethkress the Warper enters game with 4 AP (lesser deity 3 AP +1))
(Kethkress spends 3 AP to create plane: Outer Nightmare, The Beggining beyond the End)
(Kethkress has 1 AP)

If it was not obvious. Other deities are not supposed to know of Kethkress yet.

[zerombr]

Lukica the Inheritor Still at a cool 1 AP.

Returning to her home in the Font of Inspiration, she spends several weeks in deep thought, considering this latest turn of events. The concept of darkness, the sheer illogicalness of it all. While musing this infraction against her will, she learns from her use of communications, the gift given to her people, and constructs a box with several knobs and gizmos hanging off of it, a funnel like loudspeaker hangs off of the front of it. She thinks to herself, while holding it. "Once again invention counters handicaps..." the voicebox announces for her, in a tinny slightly-female voice.
Another problem solved, but unto more pressing matters. "What I need is a force for order, before some sort of chaos infests me...a guard, a watcher." She looks over one of her earlier molded creations, a blind feathered angel looking figure. She muses, "Good, evil...such are the trappings of the mortals, I care little about such things, only a half step removed from eructation and physical carnality. My watcher must be removed form such things." She uses her tongs to place the proto-form into the Font itself, allowing the force of creation to imbue it with life, sentience, following the base guideline set by the Creator.

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Here ya go Mike, Valkir can appear at any time now.

[Alber]

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I think that Mumbles may have to spend an AP to make my Arkun insane (since it's technically a spell and spells cast on the material plane by a Lesser God cost 1 AP). I don't really care either way, as long as you keep the number of insane Arkun within moderate levels.

Avatar of Gallat, the Material plane

Gallat's worldly avatar was busy...

The god's small, furry form was frantically scurrying from place to place, desperately trying to help his people restrain...his people. For no reason that he could discern, a sizable portion of the Arkun had suddenly started clawing on their walls, speaking of words said to them by those not there, giggling to themselves for no apparent reason, and, most prominently, attempting to burn their forest home to the ground...

[Aldgar]

The Void of Unreality

The astral spark waited. Even though *time* was not a concept present in Unreality, nor truly known by the potential deity, it seemed to quiver with anticipation and anxiety, ready to breach the barriers that imprisoned her, kept her from becoming real.

Her?

Indeed, the glow of the unborn goddess had brightened, and some aspects of her identity were already beginning to surface.
Aspects such as her personality and projections of her future power, centered around Order, Control and Mastery of the Mind.

Soon, I will emerge to claim what is mine. Soon...

[Mike_the_Mystic]

The small figurine crumbled as a flaming mass took its place. Suddenly, seven pairs of valiant golden wings erupted from his form, followed by arms and legs, and finally a head. The rest of the homogenous form straitened and wreathed the being in a robe of crimson-white flame. A scrap of this flame covered his head, forming a blindfold.

"I am...born..." Were the being's first words, and as it said them the being left the plane it was on and reappeared between the seven heavens and the nine hells. "And I...shall serve...". The being began by waving its hands to its left and right. From that motion a staircase and pathway formed, leading to the Heavens and Hells, respectively. It waved his hands again, and a throne, golden and blazing like its creator formed. He sat in it, and immediately a book of deeds both saving and damning the souls of the dead appeared on two stands on the side on which the path to the heavens and hells they were supposed to go.

He then clapped his hands together, and when he opened his hands again a golden, flaming kopesh appeared in his right hand, and a scale of truth in the other. Finally, he was done preparing for the judgment of souls, so he decided to craft something that would be his, and many others aides.

He formed a being in his own image. It had a pair of wings, unlike the god's fourteen, and was much smaller. He called them Mercurim, the first order of angels. They would be closest to the mortal realms, and would guide the mortal beings of the world as mentors and friends in times of darkness and loneliness. They would also be the messengers of the gods, going too and from the divinities with messages that could not be forgotten.

Finally done with creation, he decided it was time to think of a good name for himself. He thought about it for a while, and then thought of one that he liked. "My name is...Valkir..." he muttered to himself. And as soon as he was done with that, the first trickling of the dead's souls arrived to be judged. "Welcome...I am your...judge..." he said as they began to line up.