Lords of Creation: In Character #2

[Selinia]

Teikoku, Bio-Synth Facility, Teppelin

The goddess paced absently back and forth in the well-lit antechamber. She was nervous - not a sensation she felt often. Gods can feel fear, or terror, or even panic, but it is rare for one of them to be nervous. Nervousness is a small emotion - a mortal emotion. But she still felt it. She admired her mortal counterpart - Kiki was remarkably composed, all things considered.

Then Teikoku stopped, and groaned. She knew that presence. "Hal'Xaazar is here. Of course." She rubbed her forehead, frustrated. "Why now? This cannot be a coincidence..."

"Perhaps he merely wishes to wish them well? He is your brother after all - their uncle."

"Perhaps. But in sincerely doubt the Opposer would do anything of the sort, lest the intention be to kill me with shock. Still, I should call him in before he hurts someone - he has little regard for mortals..." With an effortless conjuration, Teikoku sent a short message to Hal'Xaazar informing him of their location, along with a rather polite summons. She didn't want to spoil this day with the antics of her brothers if she could help it.

[Draken]

Bio-Synth Facility

A summons to the Opposer, what a rare thing.

But the Hal'Xaazar that appeared was very much unlike what Teikoku was used to. He still seemed to be a man in chrome robes, but now his head was exposed, and it was like the dark void, lit by distant stars.

"Two women, but you grow your children in a test tube, instead of either womb, as creation."

Somehow, a smile can be made from the featureless dark.

"I quite like your style... And there are so many other interesting paralels I could make... But we can leave that to another time... It is an occasion of joy, my one and only little sister is about to have her very own children."

No bile, no veiled threats, no evil undertones. Hal'Xaazar has unrivaled skill in honeying his words.

[Grytorm]

Iurious A different part of the Teppelin also with Bio-Synth facilities

After receiving a long delayed response from Genome Iurious got to work. He started work immediately. Through all his labor he wore his dark gloves, but eventually he had to wait. Crucial supplys were missing. The samples of dragon flesh, without them it was pointless.

"Sir, we have the samples you asked for," Fawcett, one of the three angels he had sent, "Although we did not find the mission pleasant. Or at least me and JHhaclyn didn't. Between us we were swallowed fifteen times, torn to shreds thrice. We were also blinded, deafened, dessicated, and defecated on. Cateln however had a marvelous time. She is taking up residence in one of the dragons caves, they are about to have three half dragon angels, or maybe three half angel dragons, we are not sure which."

"Thank you, that is all. Just put it over their.," Iurious said, gesturing with one hand. After they are left he began his work again. With the samples provided, he mixed, spliced and beat with stick until the blasted things cooperated until he had produced four eggs. While they matured and the eggs were duplicated, Iurious rested.

[Selinia]

Teikoku, Bio-Synth Facility, Teppelin

"...Indeed. Then welcome to you, brother. If you are truly here to witness the birth of our daughters, then it is an honor. However, forgive me if I remain slightly wary - you have something of a reputation for opposing things, as it were."

Kiki, still seated, chuckled slightly at Hal'Xaazar's initial remark. "Tei, stop being paranoid. Heh, can you imagine yourself pregnant? Honestly, I'm still kind of in shock as things stand - I mean, this is actually happening. We're going to be parents in a couple hours... I haven't really thought I'd ever be in that position since I realized what half of the population I was attracted to." Absently, she brushed back a few strands of wayward blue-black hair, lost in thought again.

[Grytorm]

Iurious The OTher Bio-Synth Facility

As Iurious waited, he let his minds eye wander. It flowed over each bastion, and over the sea of mists. Eventually it stared only at the old world. Here it flowed down, down further and further into the cities of the Dwarves. Eventually, Iurious would find that his eye rested upon the deathbed of the merciless Merchant Prince Varice.

How many lives had he ruined? None shall ever know, but this robber baron had left some good in the world. His elder son, Marcus by name, cared for him in his dying days. An honest businessman (unlike his brother Carlos), Marcus was still somewhat ruthless, but he would never sink to the levels that some of his peers would.
Eyes white and heart weak, with his dying breath Marcus’s father uttered his final words, “Marcus… please. Make me proud.”
“I will father,” Marcus said, with his words unheard. He set about his father’s last request. Two cycles later he arrived at the seat of his family’s power. Here, fortunes had been made, and here, they would grow. At least that was what Marcus intended.

“I’m sorry sure. But you can’t,” Dunmas, one of the senior clerks said.
“Can’t! Why not? I own the place don’t I?” Marcus said.
“No, you don’t. Your brother has controlling interest,” said Dunmas.
“Carlos? How! I am the eldest!” Marcus shouted.
Sighing, Dunmas simply stated, “Have you not been following politics sir? With strong endorsement by Carlos, a new law is in place in the city. Property now passes to then whichever son is acting as manager.”
“The rat! I ran the place for over sixty years, and for the last four I have cared for father as he withered! Someone will pay for this,” with one last shout he left the bank.

Fuming, Marcus had returned to his mansion. As soon as he arrived he had called for his close friend and valued employee Oskar Asbestosbeard. He awaited Oskar’s arrival on a balcony overlooking the ballroom.
Hearing him enter, Marcus did not turn to look, “Oskar, do you have any idea what I can do to reclaim my fortune?”
“Nothing Marcus,” Oskar said, slowly moving behind Marcus.
Turning a bit to slow, Marcus asked, “Nothing?”
His turn was far to slow, Marcus did not see the grab but he felt it as he was pivitod over the rail. Marcus’s grip on the edge was tenous, and only held to hear Oskar say before stamping on Marcus’s fingers, “Nothing my lord. Carlos sends his regards,” and then it was all over.

Or was it? In life Marcus had enough will to shake off a divine curse. His death so wrong it ignited a spark of divinity. Just a spark however, Marcus by himself had not enough to ascend. But if a god fans the flames, then it is possible. Iurious sent a fragment of divine fire to the dead soul, just enough to ignite him into a glorious bonfire of divinity. Marcus’s oath would be fulfilled; he would make his father proud.

[apocalypsePast2]

Near the Implacable

The Knightmares reacted with surprising speed, halting their forward movement and dodging out of the way of the streams, which they figured to be some sort of acid. But the danger was not in the liquid itself, but in its effect...

With a roar, the streams struck the ground and exploded into violent fireballs. The Knightmares were thrown out of their readied positions, tumbling and staggering from the force. By the time they had recovered, Alek was among them.

He dove in from the air, laying about his obsidian blade in every direction. He slashed sideways at a still-recovering mech, and the blade hummed through the cockpit into the tiefling's skull. Pulling the blade free, he let the mech fall, while he lashed out at another. It parried.

Alek stopped for a moment. Very rarely had a mortal stood against his blows so steadily, and few golems could withstand them easily. These metal golems demanded much attention.

The pilot interrupted him with an aggressive assault, slicing at Alek with speeds that would have killed even a Dread Blade.

It may have even matched Alek... when he had been mortal.

He was no longer mortal.

With a roar of indignation, Alek sent a missile of force straight into the mech's cockpit, shattering it. He grasped the stunned mech by its blades, and broke them off in his hands. He grabbed the pilots head, and crushed it with a satisfying squelch.
Looking up, Alek found the other four mechs engaging his Blades, and doing a good job of it too. Seven Blades lay dead already, but numbers were overcoming the metal beasts. As he watched, one of them darted forward to deliver a death blow to a Blade, but left his flank open. A Blade darted in and slashed its metal leg. It spun and buckled, and was struck from its flank again. It was swarmed with armored forms.

But one, Alek saw, was not trying to fight anymore. Judging by his distinctive armor and piled Blades, he was quite the fighter. He whirled and slashed at a nearby Blade, gutting him, then continued to flee. Alek flexed his wings, and soared over the fight, gaining ground on the fleeing Knight-Commander. Pulling into a dive, he grasped the mech by its shoulders and began to lift it off-

Abruptly, he was hit by an energy blast. Dropping the mech, he looked up to see the city, alive with weapons fire from the inside out. At the limits, energy turrets are firing frantically at him, despite the hail of fire from human mobs inside.

Alek lets the mech go and backs off. Turning back to the battlefield, he finds the remaining mechs down, despite casualties. He eyes the metal golems warily. " Take their golems with us, along with their bodies." Alek instructs. The Blades rush to carry out his instructions, then Alek teleports them back to the Implacable.

Aura, Three Weeks Later
Cave System, Evanzar's Lab

Beneath the Fortress where he lived, Evanzar toiled for many weeks, preparing the armies of the Empire. No longer would their crossbows and swords do against the weapons of the tieflings or the gnomes. They needed modern weapons. And Evanzar made them.

So he came to be nervously standing before a firing range, presenting his new toys to some of the most powerful Forsaken in existence. Alek was there, glowering at the oncoming change from the weapons he had lived his life using. Aria, the High Monarch, was there too, sitting upon a portable throne surrounded by servants. Also there were representatives of every House, and, most importantly, the three chosen leaders of the army.

Evanzar mentally listed them off in his head:

Rindiir Opry'stiill, the youngest of the three, had been born a commoner, and had become a mercenary fighting for House Opry'stiill. His cunning and innovative tactics had bought amazing victory and adoption into the House, and their fortunes had expanded accordingly. Of the three, he was most likely to support the new weapons.

Stiir Ken'strii was the oldest and most conservative of the group. He wasn't known for new tactics or strategies, but neither was he known for failure. His styles might be well known and old, but they worked and he didn't make mistakes. One couldn't beat him by capitalizing on his slips, one had to outmaneuver him.

Lastly, Kyndra Liist'ell. He knew little about her, except that she was renown for being cruel and terrifying, even among the Forsaken. Her sheer ruthlessness and savagery had won her many battles.

Evanzar sighed in preparation, and began his demonstration after Aria finished the introduction. " Okay, all of you know the weapons we use in combat." He indicated a table covered with them." They are integral to our civilization. Swords, crossbows, plate armor, everything has been proven again and again to work." He saw some of the nobles nodding and whispering. He watched Stiir start giving long slow nods, as if in agreement.

" These," he said, holding up a crossbow as an example, " are obsolete."

Everything went quiet. Stiir stopped nodding.

" Watch." Evanzar picked up a crossbow, took aim, and fired a bolt through a wooden target, skewering its head. " These work to kill people. But now, watch this."
He picked up a detached Knightmare weapon, wielding it on his shoulder. He took aim again, and fired.

With a flash of light, the target was vaporized.

Hushed muttering broke out among the observers. Putting the weapon down, he turned. " Without more advanced weapons, we will not survive. That much is certain. Luckily, I have some... toys." He picked up a Chaostech weapon, shoulder mounted, covered in eyes. " This is not mine. We bought these. This type has been nicked named a 'Spitter'. Watch." Turning once more, he fired an arching spray of liquid. It struck the target and exploded into a ten foot fireball, sending shock and heat throughout the caverns.

Rindiir's eyes sparkled. That was good, supposed Evanzar.

Continuing despite the now obvious chatter, Evanzar began, " This type of weapons and more are already in our arsenal in wide numbers. As well as larger versions." He indicated a wheeled cannon-type one further down the line. " But I have... improved upon this weapon. The liquid you saw fired was its energy source, a substance I call Liquid Chaos, or LC. It is extremely volatile and incredibly dangerous." He grinned. " And so its perfect for us."

That got a few chuckles.

" Combining LC with some of my homebrew solutions and binding agents, I have produced, this!" He held up a large glass container of a jelly-like substance. " Void Gel!" He proudly declared.

More murmurings broke out.

" Now this may not seem very impressive," He drawled dramatically, " but when I combined it with my latest power source, a Liquid Chaos reactor, I found the perfect weapon." He held up a strange obsidian object, just over three feet in length and covered in glowing runes and lights. " I call it a Void Rifle. Using a miniaturized LC reactor, it propels a small jet of the explosive Void Gel faster than speed of sound. Now this may sound impressive," He said, noting to blank stares many of the Forsaken gave him. He cursed slightly, they needed more SCIENCE! " but its real effect is staggering. " Raising the rifle, he aimed down the obsidian sights and pulled the trigger. The torso of a target dummy instantly fragmented as the squirt of Void Gel traveled the distance in less than a millisecond and impacted in a tremendous bang as it detonated.

A shocking silence followed.

Leaning casually and confidently on his rifle, Evanzar smiled at the awestruck crowd. " And that's just the start."

Spoiler

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11AP-
1AP Lead Populace (Liquid Chaos)
The power source of Chaostech weapons bought by the Forsaken, this liquid is incredibly powerful.

1AP Lead Populace (Liquid Chaos Reactor)
Really complicated, really big, really dangerous, and really powerful.

Spoiler

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They're essentially nuclear power plants, but bigger, more dangerous, and more powerful

1AP Lead Populace (Power network)
A system for carrying the power generated by the LC Reactors all over Aura, powering their Empire.

1AP Lead Populace (Void weaponry)
Rifles, pistols, and much more! All powered by Void Gel technology. Unlike 'pure' Chaostech weapons, they cannot 'soulsteal'

Spoiler

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This is similar to what a Void Rifle looks like with scope except covered in glowing runes, and made of obsidian. Most don't have scopes. No, I didn't steal the idea from Halo and no, this wasn't exactly what I had in mind, but its adequate. You load small tanks of LC into the bottom behind the trigger mechanism.

= 7AP
18/18GP DING!
LEVEL UP!
0/24GP

Spoiler

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They'll be more tech later, I just don't want to write that much now.

[planswalker]

Enki, Area 06, The Blasted Isle

The experienced warrior feels the shutdown of his mech like a sickening blow to the gut. It hurt - physically hurt. Enki grit his teeth as he gripped the controls tightly. "I am sorry, Viradu. I should not have brought you on this course of folly. Forgive me." Releasing his death grip on the instruments, the knight leaned back and composed himself, even as William ripped the front open his cockpit.

He looked the ronin in the eye - to say he was unafraid would be untrue, but he was ready. He had been ready since the moment he set out on this course. "You have defeated me. Truly, human, you are irregular. Powerful. If I am to die in this moment, listen to my words. The Baron is preparing to initiate Operation Gaess. He will purge every man, woman, and child from this Bastion. Because of you. He is convinced that your people have become unmanageable. Because of you." Enki paused a moment, taking a deep breath. He seemed almost surprised that he was still able to. "There is nothing but shame in the deaths of innocents. Had I slain you, the Baron might have been convinced to merely purge in insurgency, as he did two decade ago. Not even humans are so vile that their children should be slain for the reckless stupidity of one man!"

"Kill me now, human. I have failed. You have won, and I have lost. But if you have a scrap of compassion for your kin, you will turn yourself in." The tiefling slipped his hands around the unresponsive controls of his knightmare. "What are you waiting for? I am ready! At the very least, grant me a warrior's death!"

An Ending

William looks sadly at the angry, honorable man. However, he did not wish to kill this tiefling. So many must die today already. It would be tragic to add one more to the death toll. Instead, William formed a blade of ice and cut off Enki's right hand. "I cannot let you add to the death toll today, but neither do I wish to kill you. I'm sure this will just be an excuse for you to hate me all the more. Have fun with your bitterness." William then struck him on the head to knock him out.

He then called the kappa to him, along with the virions. He did not enjoy violence, but there was nothing more to do at this point. He asked the Virions to go out and infect as many tieflings as they could, incapacitate them. Whatever means is most effective.

To the Kappa, he asked them to do something he had never done before. He asked them if they were able to connect his mind to those others who are tapping into the Spiral.

They stared at him blankly and said only one thing: "What can't we do?"

He soon found himself linked with nearly every huiman in the city. The spiral fed on Hope and Passion, which were on the rise in the Bastion today. He felt that with this unlimited potential, nothing was impossible.

[Gunther]

Gnomish Delegation, Teppelin, The Blasted Isle
Folger thought for a moment as the others took their keys and began moving into their rooms. "Uhh, two, in fact: First is, who inhabited this place beforehand? The other is pretty minor- would you mind if we do a bit of in-house refurbishing? Don't get me wrong, these rooms are really nice, but I'm sure there's a lot of us who'd like to make things a bit more...home-like."

Behind him, a quartet of rather muscular Gnomes were assembling sledgehammers. One of them gave a few experimental swings, stopping short of the wall in one of the rooms before leaving it leaning against the aforementioned wall. Other Gnomes were taking in crates of provisions, everything from coal to oranges to even a few bits of salted meat.

"We're rather good at making rooms more home-like." Folger continued, commending the men behind him.

The Citadel, Farms
It would be wise to note that while a certain Admiral named Berento had, in fact, made a trade deal...

He and his Gnomes were well, well away from the Citadel at that point, not even having had the chance to get back to their ship, let alone back home. It was for this reason that a dark-skinned person, about the same profile as a Vampire depicted in the "Ye Olde Monsterous Handbooke Of Things To Be Ware Off".

But that, in itself, didn't mean that it wasn't honest. Vampires didn't talk after all- they just jumped at you and pulled off physically impossible acrobatics, right up until you shot them. Because everyone knows that even vampires can't dodge a bullet. And that they don't talk.

"Wait, what?" Was the official reply, brought through official channels, "Who are you, what are you, and why are you in the farms? You're leagues away from the workshops, missy!"

Secrets and Myths
The Gnome considered this, his theory- as it was- more of a work in progress than anything else. Turkin had been given a lot of experience with the Chept form of "Magic", and a lot of its principles- while not one hundred percent understood- were definitely pretty well anchored in his mind. He had begun to grudgingly accept the concept of magic as something, maybe something, that could alter reality in certain ways.

The kicker was just figuring out how magic did it, is all.

"Right, well, the way I've seen things so far? Advanced technology. I know we caught flak for being so reliant on science," He corrected himself, "A lot of flak, in fact, but it's the only way we can really function sanely. The way I can stay sane. Magic, as it stands, just seems to be a means of subverting the laws of reality. How it does this? Nobody knows. That just makes it..."

Turkin had an epiphany.

"That's it!" He said, smiling, "Faeri can seemingly alter reality itself because they understand magic. Not just how to use it, not just the principles, but they know exactly how it works!" He declared, laughing in glee, "I- I know, it sounds ridiculous to try and explain, but it finally clicked! Magic somehow alters the world's physical functions, Faeri are seemingly unbound by the laws of the world, therefore- they are just in complete control of the science of the arcane! I'm right, aren't I?" He asked, extremely pleased that his Faeri Theory had reached this major breakthrough.

Or so he thought, at least.

Gremlins in the Citadel: MY FLESH! IT BURNS!
The formation of the Gremolossus was heralded by a second bad bit of news. Gnomish technology, at the best of times, was extremely hazardous to the user's health without the stress combat put on it. Experimental technology was just a fancy way of saying that, sooner or later, the piece in question was going to backfire.

In this case, that was a literal situation. The massive casks, filled with- indeed- chemicals better left unsaid, had originally been designed for holding aging wine. High-pressure mixtures of unstable chemicals was just inviting trouble. As the flammenwerfer-bearers began to step backwards, the first of the casks ruptured from overuse.

The ensuing explosion caused devastating secondaries, taking out a full score of the Gnomes, as well as about a dozen of the spear-wielding infantry that had followed in the wake of the flamethrower-wielders. All the phalanx formations in the world wouldn't have saved them from the fireball ripping through the tunnel.

Triage units back in the Chapel did their best (Which wasn't that bad, considering Gnomish medicine's quality in comparison to the rest of the world, where soap and water were considered 'frilly'). However, even maggots could only do so much for severe burn victims, and a lot of those brought back wouldn't make the night.

As the remaining hundred-odd regular infantry filled into the remains of the Drydocks, a good portion of which had been blown up and/or burned down, Dalni had nearly browned his pants. He had dealt with Vampires, sure, but this was a whole 'nother order of terrifying to deal with.

A giant, thieving bastard, big enough that Dalni sincerely doubted even the full three lines of musketeers they had gathered would be enough.

Which was why he stared at the fallen remains of one of the exploded cranes, the large tower having formed an impromptu extension of one of the piers. Dangling over the abyss, Dalni had a brief revelation. Musketeers wouldn't stand a chance.

One of the patrol boats patrolling the area around the Citadel and the Blasted Isle, armed with cannons meant for taking out even Vampire god-king-generals (History wasn't too specific on that part)?

As a few of the more courageous jabbed their spears at the Gremlossus and the lesser monsters, hoping their interlocked shields would protect them from a giant angry paw, Dalni took off, unceremoniously snatching a flag from one of standard bearers. Leaving his warhammer of choice behind, he charged ahead, the Gnomish hero hoping that he could successfully dodge out of the Gremlossus's path of carnage in time to reach the good signaling position.

The fact that Dalni had missed Signaling 101 and the exact code for 'Giant money-grubbing monster in the area seeking to kill us all' was just something he'd have to worry about later.

[Grytorm]

Iurious The Other Bio-Synth Facility

When he awoke, Iurious considered what he had just done. A new god was born, and he could not think of any created for some time. Perhaps the start of a new wave? However some things had more immediate importance, the eggs were about to hatch.

As each of them hatched, he marked and named, first was Odium who was marked with concentric circles, second was Otium marked with an upward facing triangle, third was Pannus marked with a downward facing triangle, last was Dripio, who was marked with thirteen dots. Behind the four already born were a thousand eggs, the first generation of Pax dragons were being born.

Spoiler

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Create Life: Pax Dragons, -1

AP: 6-1=5
GP: 11/21

[Draken]

Teikoku, Bio-Synth Facility, Teppelin

"...Indeed. Then welcome to you, brother. If you are truly here to witness the birth of our daughters, then it is an honor. However, forgive me if I remain slightly wary - you have something of a reputation for opposing things, as it were."

Kiki, still seated, chuckled slightly at Hal'Xaazar's initial remark. "Tei, stop being paranoid. Heh, can you imagine yourself pregnant? Honestly, I'm still kind of in shock as things stand - I mean, this is actually happening. We're going to be parents in a couple hours... I haven't really thought I'd ever be in that position since I realized what half of the population I was attracted to." Absently, she brushed back a few strands of wayward blue-black hair, lost in thought again.

"Paranoia fits. My first title is The Great Opposer after all."

The distant lights shift, indicating that Hal'Xaazar has turned his face to Teikoku.

"I had much to oversee in the past few cycles... Ever since the last misshap between you and our brother... But I will save my questions for a time when they will not drag down the mood of the event, this is an occasion for joy, after all."

He can drag down the mood in more amusing ways.

----

Gnomes, Nerra and Changelings. Dalni's Pride and stuff.

That storyline kinda fell off the map... And Draken forgot who had to continue it. Yep. It needs to be continued, so let us.

Changeling village in the Blessed Isle

Certainly those had been calm times of negotiation between Val'Amun and... The captain of Dalni's Pride (forgot his name). One can only guess how the gnomes felt about the monstrous things roaming the village, from the atrocious brood spawn to the great wyverns and frost worms the changelings routinely employed. Tech... Did not seem all that high, masonry and the strange arts of organic cultivation creating structures that seemed, and likely were, alive, a place both regal and slightly disturbing, most certainly. But the magic... Varied and potent, almost omnipresent, and even now new eldritch ways streamed in.

----

Gnomes and Wyvern riders in Aura

The wyvern riders complied to the wishes of their passangers, helping with whatever was needed. The draconic mounts proving to be powerful beasts indeed.

[Dwalin]

Marcus - En Route to the Rot

He walked calmly through a tunnel, a bright light at the end of it. How had he gotten here? He thought back, trying to remember. His feet halted as he recalled the last image he had, that of his supposed friend flying away from him, along with the balcony. He felt beckoned to continue, but something in him refused to proceed. Something told him he shouldn't be here. Suddenly he saw a small crack in the side of the tunnel. Red light poured in, as the crack widened. Suddenly he heard what he thought to be his father's voice call from beyond the crack, "Make me Proud".

Soon Marcus saw through the crack, what appeared to be a warm glow, like the fires of a blacksmiths. He stepped into this light, and out of the cave, and was soon almost blinded by the intensity. Moments later, the light subsided, but he found himself, at least momentarily, looking out into blackness.

Something felt very different about him. He felt stronger then ever before, and though he didn't have the slightest clue where he was or even which way was up, he didn't worry about falling. What could this place be? Finally, he decided he would rather be elsewhere, and the blackness seemed to almost be pulled away.

Marcus - "The Storehouse"

Now a small cave, closed in on all sides, save one. Tall double doors marked the only exit of this antechamber. They appeared to be made of iron, but the yellow gleam and colorful reflections spoke of a higher elegance. He recognized these doors. Of course he did, he had passed through them every day, many times a day. They never quite shown this brilliantly to him before, though. In fact, how did they shine now? No torches lit the room, no sunlight. This room had no light source, but it glowed as if high noon were responsible. He turned the heavy iron knob, and pulled open one of the doors, revealing a splendor he had missed deeply.

His home, or at least what appeared to be such. A large stone walled central foyer. Twin flanking curled staircases flowing up the sides. Torches lined the walls, though the light was more pervasive then that. Even the pictures he remembered and the tapestries. The corners of his lips curled upward. He was back.

After many minutes of exploring this wonderful recreation of a house, he realized it was perfect, save for the lack of windows. A fully enclosed model. Walking back into the foyer he began to think of how odd his arrival had been. He decided to make his way back through the entrance and see what more was available.

Exiting his home, he came into a large stone room. On the far wall was the only feature, a face carved into the stone. As Marcus approached, the face suddenly moved. "Hello Master, I see you have enjoyed your accommodations." The mouth moved, but the eyes remained unchanging.

Marcus was used to being referred to as master by the staff, but nothing could have prepared him for this. "Who,... er, What are you?"

"I am the guardian of this realm, Master" the face stated with a stoicism unrivaled by any face of flesh. "My name is Gunther".

"Alright Gunther, then I suppose my next question must be 'What is this place?'". This felt to Marcus like some sort of game. A choose your own adventure where the adventure had already been chosen.

The face moved again, though still only the mouth and chin. "This is the Storehouse. It acts as the perfect bank, and I the perfect banker. We keep anything protected for anyone from anyone else." At the end of this, the corners of the mouth ended just a little higher. Was this statue trying to be reassuring, or was that actually pride in it's work?

Marcus stood there and stared for only a moment longer. This was a wonderful thing, and he hoped that it was as good as he had wanted it to be. With this Gunther referring to him as master he could make certain that the evil his brother had perpetrated wasn't repeated. "Gunther, who created this place"

The first instance when the eyes moved was now. One eyelid raised. "Why Master, you did".

Spoiler

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Starting AP: 12
Create Plane (The Storehouse): -3 -> 9

OOC: Glad to be started, this should be fun, :)

[planswalker]

Secrets and Myths
The Gnome considered this, his theory- as it was- more of a work in progress than anything else. Turkin had been given a lot of experience with the Chept form of "Magic", and a lot of its principles- while not one hundred percent understood- were definitely pretty well anchored in his mind. He had begun to grudgingly accept the concept of magic as something, maybe something, that could alter reality in certain ways.

The kicker was just figuring out how magic did it, is all.

"Right, well, the way I've seen things so far? Advanced technology. I know we caught flak for being so reliant on science," He corrected himself, "A lot of flak, in fact, but it's the only way we can really function sanely. The way I can stay sane. Magic, as it stands, just seems to be a means of subverting the laws of reality. How it does this? Nobody knows. That just makes it..."

Turkin had an epiphany.

"That's it!" He said, smiling, "Faeri can seemingly alter reality itself because they understand magic. Not just how to use it, not just the principles, but they know exactly how it works!" He declared, laughing in glee, "I- I know, it sounds ridiculous to try and explain, but it finally clicked! Magic somehow alters the world's physical functions, Faeri are seemingly unbound by the laws of the world, therefore- they are just in complete control of the science of the arcane! I'm right, aren't I?" He asked, extremely pleased that his Faeri Theory had reached this major breakthrough.

Or so he thought, at least.

Spoiler

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any sufficiently explainable magic is indistinguishable from advanced technology.

Secrets and Myths

"Indeed, as best we know, that is the case. Of course, that still leaves you wondering how magic can do what it does. Other similar questions are why things always fall down when dropped, and how light works exactly."

He stops his musings and gets back on topic. "Anyways, there is a secret about the River Dragons which you need to know, but one that few are willing to talk about. Has anyone given mention of creatures called RageFae?"

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the crazy Set did, but Iounchept had told you to dismiss his rantings as desperate craziness. He did not care to explain about why the Set would say RageFae

[Selinia]

Baron Fredrik, The Spire, Area 06

A siren wailed, warbling into the waning daylight. Atop the massive tower's landing pad, Fredrik grinned in the confines of his mighty knightmare Ragnaros. He'd been wanting to hear that sound for two decades. Finally - finally - he could take his vengeance on the puny worms who had cost him so much. He took a few seconds to savor the moment, looking out as the full complement of the Bastion's military might began pouring out into the streets. Systematically, they began pushing the humans outwards and away, sweeping and clearing buildings with ever stretch of street they seized.

Then he joined the fray personally, leaping from the top of the Spire and plummeting like a stone to the streets below. Kicking in his jump drives at the last moment, the Baron landed like some hellish meteor in the middle of a pack of humans. Flipping a switch, he activated his mech's armament, chuckling all the while. The humans scattered in shock for a moment, but quickly reformed and concentrated fire in Fredrik's knightmare. Had he been piloting an ordinary model, they likely would have taken him down without further incident.

But the people of Area 06 had yet to do battle with a knightmare of Ragnaros' caliber. Fredrik had taken special care of it over the years, and it was hardly recognizable as the heavy assault knightmare it had once been. Enormously thick armor plating seemed to cover every surface - it looked entirely too heavy to move, and yet somehow managed to do so with alarming alacrity. The baron had replaced the thing's reactor with one designed for battleships - it could fuel the massive contraption and have plenty to spare.

Ignoring incoming fire like a swarm of gnats, the tyrant of Bastion 06 unslung a pair of plasma-throwers, his dark chuckle degenerating into mad laughter as he bathed the surrounding street in blue-white waves of liquid energy. "Ahaha...hahaha! AHAHA! It feels good to not have to worry about collateral for once! Come and meet your fate, worms! Come and be purged!" With another sweep of the controls, a devastating barrage of shoulder-mounted Chroma missiles was launched into the human-controlled section of the city, the naval-level firepower laying down a swath of devastation.

[planswalker]

The Baron and the Anti-Baron - Final Showdown

Will felt as a hundred minds linked to his were wiped out all at once. He quickly waterwalked over there, using the blood of the slain to arrive exactly on target.

He sent a message to the defenders' minds: The Baron is rampaging loose in the city. They have orders to wipe us all out, each and every last one of us. Regroup by the main gate. I have a plan for how to escape, but first I must make the one responsible for our suffering pay for his crimes.

He heard back many of those he had trained give confirmation. He felt the network of minds begin to gather at the gates.

However, he had a more immediate problem.

"Baron!" he shouted. "Your days of tyrrany and oppression end here today!"

With that, he leaped up into the air, taking on the form of mist, and prayed that the Baron would focus on him as his target.

[Selinia]

Baron Fredrik, The Showdown, Area 06

"AhaHAHAHA! So the worm-in-chief decides to burrow to the surface when it smells smoke! I figured you might, Penkappa! I wonder, do you like this? Look around you - you should feel proud! I don't think any terrorist has ever caused a fraction of this death and devastation! Let you final thoughts be of the utter annihilation of the pathetic residents of this city!" Keeping his plasma-throwers on hand to deter any attempt at a charge, Fredrik unleashed another massive barrage of chroma missiles at the ronin.

[planswalker]

The Baron and the Anti-Baron - Final Showdown

"I find it amazing that I am responsible for the devastation that your weapons caused. You are sadistic, selfish coward. You hide in a fort-"

William's rebuttal was cut short as the missiles closed in on him. He acitvated his shield, and the missiles were stripped of their power as they approached, becoming blunt projectiles. He nimbly dodged them and dove at the Baron, shield first and saying. "By the blood of those you killed today, you will be slain!" A blue nimbus surrounds the human.

Sozuchi - the Riverways

Sozuchi, the self-proclaimed god of not-boring, found himself... bored.

Incarnum was nifty and all, but really, he had less to do with that then Bitvachept did. Besides, the kami were generally a dull lot. Messing around with them got old really fast.

So, Sozuchi did something he doesn't often do, he stopped and listened. His people told stories constantly, a by-product of one fifth of their number living for many generations beyond the others and those same ones being born with a passion to learn all they can and share it with others. However, the Boa sometimes make up stories that never happened, with the intent of entertaining themselves.

He'd never noticed before that they did so, but the whole idea sounded posititvely not-boring.

So, being the god that he is, he looked at the mass of stories being told worldwide, and found that they had a sort of emergent life all their own. Most peoples all over the world told stories. Stories about gods, about monsters, of heroes, villains, rescues, triumphs, defeats, births, deaths, endings, and even more. There was a beauty to the variety of stories that really struck home with Sozuchi.

Thus, he decided that those stories needed to be given a life of their own. He decided to take a few stories, and weave into them an essence of life.

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and cue the birth of a god. If you want, you can rp with Soz for a little bit, or basically say, "Thanks for letting me exist! Gotta go now and do stuff!"

also, if you'd like to join the NOT-BORING pantheon and gain a group on instant allies with similar goals, that's 1 ap.

[TechnoScrabble]

((Sweet, thanks!))
Sozuchi and Shanefyer-The Riverways
The newly created god of stories, Shanfyer, looks around.
"Now look at that, I exist! That's always a good way to start a story!" he looks up at Sozuchi.
"Say, good sirrah, are you the one behind this?"

[Dwalin]

Marcus - "The Storehouse"

What a day. He had died, but been reborn into, ...whatever this is. He knew it must have been hours, but he wasn't feeling tired. He finally took a seat in the chair he had spent so many hours in before in order to think. It wasn't the same chair though. This item was something all together different. It didn't matter. At least for now it felt like home, which was what was important. The most important thing now was to get a handle on what he had become, what he apparently could do, and what he would do next.

The one goal he had been given, from a father who had passed, was to make him proud. With his empire stolen by the treacherous swine he was once related to, the only option now was to build a new empire.

He looked out into the world, and thought on stories he had been told. How was he looking out to the world? It was as though he was seeing things his actual eyes had no business seeing. He let this internal eye wander, letting it be drawn to where it would. It soon saw creatures he was not particularly familiar with. Gnomes, he knew the name, somehow. They had technology, and a thriving economy. If ever there were a chance to build a new empire, it looked like that would be appropriate.

Marcus Starts Again - Hundreds of Miles South East of the Gnomish Citadel

An uninhabited region to the south east of the gnomes experienced something new. An earthquake of sorts, it started with a large shake, but continued to rumble for nearly a day. The entire time the earth rose, evenly at first, but soon with many pinnacles, spires, and crevices. By the same time the next day, a huge mountain range had erupted into the sky.

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9AP
-1 Create Land (The Rugged Mountains) -> 8AP

At first, this appeared to be all there was to see in this area, but soon one could notice what appeared to be large flying rocks soaring from one pinnacle to the other. What were they? Upon closer inspection it would appear they were statues of a kind, but living. How such a thing were possible would require a great deal of study, but the creatures themselves cared not for how or why they could fly or even how they came into being. In that day, the creatures had been born, and they intended to thrive.

Appearing to be like demons, but made of stone, these gargoyles fed on the rocks, particularly a number of black ones which were plentiful in the mountains. They could fly, and they made homes in the mountains. When not trying to gather food, they would play games, they would fight, and they would explore.

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8AP
-1 Create Life (Gargoyles) -> 7AP

Among the Gargoyles resided a few exceptional beings. Their skin shone like obsidian, and they were generally regarded as the leaders of the group. Wanting to establish a permanent home, these obsidian gargoyles began the construction of real buildings and homes, using their food supplies as a currency with which to buy and sell property and labor. So was founded the first Gargoyle City, Butron.

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7AP
-0 Create Society (Butron) -> 7AP (Free with Organized)

The Obsidian Gargoyles led as a council, but one stood out among the rest. He was taller, but generally more clever, and better spoken. His name was Hudson, and he was generally regarded as the benevolent king of the gargoyles.

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7AP
-1 Raise Hero (Hudson) -> 6AP

Hudson and Marcus communicated regularly. In fact, Hudson had access to a small gate in the back of his home which led to "The Storehouse". It was where Marcus and Hudson would communicate, and where Hudson kept all the most valuable possessions of Butron. They talked, and Marcus told Hudson about the Gnomes, and how important it would be to go and speak with them, that trading with them would be of invaluable benefit to the Gargoyles. So Hudson gathered the council, and talked with them. They soon formed the explorers guild, a place which was meant to try and find new trading partners and new trade routes.

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6AP
-2 Create Organization (Explorer's Guild) -> 4AP
Prestige Classes: Wing Adepts, Cavern Crawlers (Bonus from Organized)

With this group formed, a small group of Wing Adepts, masters of the Gargoyles ability to fly, spotted in the distance the gnomish citadel, and began making their way to make first contact. Who were these people, and would they be friendly? They would soon find out.

In the meanwhile, Marcus and Hudson spoke at great length, and Marcus taught things to Hudson which made him better able to lead.

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4AP
-0 Create Class: Courier (Free from Leader of Men)
-1 Lead Population (Banking) -> 3AP
-3 Gain Domain (Gargoyles) -> 0AP
Create Terrain for their Homeland
Create Gargoyles
Create Batron, city of the Gargoyles
Raise Hudson, King of the Gargoyles
Create Explorer's Guild with Classes focused on Gargoyle Abilities
That makes 12 AP spent so I am at DR 2. And I'm spent.

OOC: Hopefully all this works, if not then let me know in OOC or PM and I will fix things. Wanted to hit DR2 by update, which I think I did. Usually there will be more fluff in things, I think.

[Smokin Red]

The Void
Once there had been a Dream.
And It was strange, like dreams tend to be.
And the dreams name was Edistris Estras.
And It had set out to change the world.

Then something awakened and the Dream faded...
...to nothing...
…

…
...nothing?
Can something as profound as Dreams simply fade away?
Or did It simply sleep?
Did It dream?

Floating in the Void something happened, something within the dreaming mind of that which had been Dream, something originated from it, ... scribbling cupcake birds, ... multicolored black fever mist, ... fanged steel clouds...

... something coalesced ...

… and they took on a form. No. Two forms. One female and one male. One dark and one bright...
...and they were sister and brother, mirroring each other, as the Inverted World mirrored the everything else.

They looked at each other and they knew their names without speaking: Unelma & Saguro – The Twin Dreamers

[Smokin Red]

The Void-Saguro

The male form flickered, as if it was not certain of itself, oscillating between humanoid and mist.

If Saguro knew how to put it, he would say he's uncomfortable.
A moment before he was secure inside, now he was out here in this... Void

But he felt the dreams of hundreds of thousand creatures, and wanting to feel secure again, he grabbed some of the scariest to weave himself an armor.

Only then he turned to his sister: "Unelma, sister, I don't know where we are right now, but I am certain, that there has to be a better place for us then this.
Let us look for some place more secure."

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Yay! Made it.

AP 5: 12-7 (create artifact: Robe of Nightmares +3 Bane)

GP: 7

[Stormwind]

Unelma: The Void

A pale lady in an alabaster white robe, she contemplated her darker brother for a moment before considering her own existence in this emptiness and that which had birthed them ... flickers of a dream ... a link to someplace else ... fading ...

As her brother speaks, she considers something, realizing a small truth about herself, before she responds "Saguro ... we need not find such a place ... we can create it ourselves ... but we must work fast. That from which we were birthed is ... fading"

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A more extensive introduction to come in the morning .... once I've gotten some sleep

[Selinia]

Baron Fredrik, The Showdown, Area 06

The Baron gave no response to Will's remark, save more crazed laughter. Pivoting with uncanny speed, the super-heavy custom knightmare flooded the street between itself and the ronin with the roaring blue-white blaze of its dual plasma-throwers. The fire danced and splashed like a living thing, disregarding physical barriers with the impunity of a raging river.

[planswalker]

((Sweet, thanks!))
Sozuchi and Shanefyer-The Riverways
The newly created god of stories, Shanfyer, looks around.
"Now look at that, I exist! That's always a good way to start a story!" he looks up at Sozuchi.
"Say, good sirrah, are you the one behind this?"

Sozuchi - the Riverways

"Indeed I am. I was bored and you seemed like a wonderful idea to exist."

Baron Fredrik, The Showdown, Area 06

The Baron gave no response to Will's remark, save more crazed laughter. Pivoting with uncanny speed, the super-heavy custom knightmare flooded the street between itself and the ronin with the roaring blue-white blaze of its dual plasma-throwers. The fire danced and splashed like a living thing, disregarding physical barriers with the impunity of a raging river.

The plasma blasts ignored physical barriers, but the magic woven into the shield protected William. He landed on the "chest" of the mecha and slammed his gauntlet into it.

[apocalypsePast2]

Aura, Weapons Labs

" We're also introducing these." Evanzar continued after he figured he'd let the dramatic silence continue long enough. He held up a golem armor chestpiece. " We've been using this invention, called golem armor, for some time now. However, until the LC reactor, we couldn't produce them in large amounts. This suit, while inferior to some of the higher quality sets we have, is easy to use and easy to produce. It's enchantments will grant greater speed and reflexes to the wearer. " Evanzar continued proudly. He didn't often get to show off. " They're being equipped now to almost all of our combat-ready troops. Next up are our new golemship weapons."

Evanzar was actually getting slightly tired of simply listing and explaining weaponry, but showing his genius in great detail made up for it.

He held up a foot-long cylindrical object, with a nasty looking drill head at one end. " This, is a 'Digger'. We've begun calling it that for very obvious reasons. It digs. But it does so in a very spectacular manner. When its fired, and it hopefully hits something, this drill starts up." He flicked a small switch in it and the drill began to spin rapidly. He flicked it off. " Within a few seconds, the drill breaks, after burrowing into whatever it was fired at. The breaking of the head ignites this. He removed the drill and shook the shell. Liquid gurgled. " A Liquid Chaos explosive. Seriously, we're using this stuff for everything. This does far more damage, as it explodes inside the target." He moved on to the next weapon.

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7AP
-1AP Lead Populace ( Modernize Military)
The Forsaken armies have recently been equipped with the latest in death-dealing devices, ranging from Void rifles and pistols to modern artillery.

-1AP Lead Populace (Diggers)
-1AP Lead Populace (Upgrade Golemships)
All golemships have been outfitted with digger-firing cannons and large scale Void weaponry. They have also replaced their obsolete power crystals with the new LC reactors, allowing for greater speed and armor.

-1AP Lead Populace (Mass production)
With the Industrial Revolution stemming from the new LC reactor, great advances have been made in all fields, but the biggest one is that factory assembly and rapid production are now possible, and enhance by the large amount of labor provided by the slave population.
4/24GP

[Rainshine]

Vendigroth

The new slaves were brought in among the others in the outskirts of the city -- the towers visible from far away, providing some minimal shade. They were invited to test their bindings, that limited not only regular movement, but, more importantly, their sandswimming. Then, to work they went. Pick and shovel and plow, their backs and bodies in service to the Empire, however unwillingly.

And from a distance, pressed against the sand with cloaks drawn about them, others watched and waited.


Land Bridge, Desert to Old World

A legion of men approached, crossing along the regs of the rim. They were garbed in a variety of cloaks, some of comfortable materials brightly dyed, many others in more common colors and fabrics. At their head marched a man, resplendent in red and gems, who led the way confidently. His staff was a gnarled thing with a curved top, that he shook over the ground as he walked.
They crossed after a time from the rocks of the desert, to a more solid stone, and then they were amongst the mountains that formed the pass. For the first time since man stepped foot on the sand of the desert shores, he again stepped off. Then another, and another, and another, marching loosely through the gap, across to the Old World. Where they would raise another city of stone.


Deep Desert

The bands of militant Mtuele spread out, traveling from hold to hold to break the sieges that held the people in check. Many bled and died, but with each group freed, the fighters grew. Men and women, shield or spell, they gathered their strength. From corpses they gained weapons, scythes and spears alike, tips for arrows from claws, and more instruments of blood and death. The groups swept the land, turning it from a wasteland of destruction that they feared, to a place that they ruled.
Such is the stuff of folly.

Deeper, beneath an enormous sand basin, a very special egg began to hatch. It tipped from one side to the other, shuddering as something tapped on the inside, taps becoming pounds, until the outside began to crack. The burnished gold shell grew black lines, lines that spread out across the surface over the space of time. The sand began to vibrate as the shell quivered from the pounds, incessant and growing. When it finally gave way, the shell burst upwards, leaving an avalanche of sand to fill in the path, the top portion landing several hundred feet away. From above, it simply looked like the sand was quivering. Then, a claw and a wing pushed their way through sand, scrabbling as the dragon heaved itself free. It looked enough like most other fresh born sand dragons, except for a slight size larger, and some mottling in the colors, but it was special -- indeed, unique. The King of the Sands was born, and he would be known as death, and called Zalim.


Void

As Akhat watched the land, and the fighting beneath, he applauded the strength and tenacity of his people. They fought for their homes, they fought for each other. They fought well. It was pleasing. But what happened next was not. Their souls did not return to the people -- something seemed to be drawing away the dead. A single strand of divine will he sent to redirect them... and nothing. Nonsense. Akhat turned to the Face, and cast his hands about it, weaving a net and expanding it, catching his followers and returning them to where they should be, until such a time as they were ready for the beyond. But someone had tried to steal his people... He would have to go to such a one. With that, he set to work creating a home -- a plane of no limits, and of rebirth, for the perfect to attend in, and be rewarded as they should so desire. From such a place, surely the others could not reach out and pluck those who call on the name of Akhat.

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Temp AP 1 - 1 (Raise Hero: Zalim) = 0
AP 11 - 1 (Create/Alter Terrain, SR 1: Create pass/land bridge) - 3 (Create Plane: Aarken) - 0 (Free Bless from Face to counter the Rot curse) = 7

[Selinia]

Baron Fredrik, The Showdown, Area 06

"O-ho? That's an amus..." As William's gauntlet impacted the massive knightmare, it suddenly went dark, the speakers cutting out. For a few moments, it seemed as if it would be dispatched with the same ease as its fellows... then, with a shuddering jolt, it raised an armored arm to grab the human clinging to its chest, clipping one of its plasma-throwers back to its leg in the process. "Nice try, clever worm! But it seems my Ragnaros can generate more power than you can siphon away! You might as well try to push aside a battleship, you silly little ape!"

[planswalker]

The Baron and the Anti-Baron

That had not worked like he'd planned. However, he saw from his brief contact with the crysteel why not. This fool had placed an energy core in there big enough to power a hundred Knightmares, if not more.

Well, there was more than one way to cook rice, as the saying went. William took on the speed and grace of the river, and ducked in underneath the massive mech's guard. "If bigger is what makes you feel better, then smaller is the answer!" he taunted.

He quickly launched a spear of ice through the cockpit to pierce it, then gave a silent command to the virions with him. kill him, the quicker and more painful, the better.

[Draken]

(Oh yeah. I almost forgot.)

Valkyrie Eskuld & Hal'Xaazar, apart together.

Entertained by his sister as he was, Hal'Xaazar did not lose track of other events in the world... On the contrary, from the simple fact that he ignored Teppelin for so long, he decided to examine other threads of creation.

One he noticed... Was Josiah funneling changeling souls to the Rot. This could not be allowed, this little upstart had no right.

So Eskuld received her orders. She needed not leave her position to work them. Merely raise her shield and look into it, allowing the mirror to show the fates of the souls of her people, and pluck them away from the siren's call of the small god who had his own meaning to be tangled to Hal'Xaazar's will, to his very first command.

The changeling souls were thus sent to their proper place, beyond the sky, to the Inverted World.

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Mirror of Fate: Rank 4 Bless. CHangeling Souls no longer go to the Rot.

[Selinia]

Baron Fredrik, The Showdown, Area 06

"Aha!..." Fredrik's laughter abruptly ceased as he found himself staring at the tip of William's lance of ice. He paused for a moment, then burst out once more. "Ahahahaha! Trying to skewer me are you? Impressive - pity you couldn't put just a bit more force into it! You might have gotten me, worm!" He smelled something... odd... but he put it off as the stench of the battlefield.

Then he coughed.

He ignored it still - nothing but a cough after all. Grappling with the controls, the Baron whipped about, trying to hit the agile ronin. William kept dodging, but all he had to do was clip him - even a glancing blow from one of Ragnaros' fists would shatter bones and knock joints out of sockets. And there was that infernal cough... "Aha...ach..chkaka! G-get back here worm!"

[Fisher]

The Weaver

Still tired and weak, Sleeves stirred from his years long rest. It was almost as if the odd structure was leeching power from the deity. The piece of cloak torn to aid in the creation of Teppelin had yet to even fully mend from the experience. Despite the benefit of being in the material plane, every instinct told him to distance himself from the place.

Standing awkwardly, his knees nearly buckled at the effort, causing him to stumble forward. Slowly he moved forward, each step as refreshing as a cool spring breeze. Reinvigorated, looking about the state of the world, he realized the time of resting was over. Change was needed and he knew exactly where to begin.

It had been a mistake to limit the passages to this land so long ago. The ways of travel needed to be free and unrestricted, no matter the method. From seemingly nowhere the cursed distaff appeared in his hand, glowing a pale, eerie green. Raising it toward the sky an arc of light shot toward the heavens, striking the Weave with a pounding fury. For a moment, it seemed like the barrier would be the victor versus the weakened traveler. Made of traces of the void itself it stood strong against the offensive.

Yet, slowly, it began to give way when a tiny, hairline crack traced itself across it's surface, and in a single instant it shattered in it's entirety. The Weave was broken. The falling shards converged upon the Weaver in a swirling mass and with each piece recovered he felt stronger than before. His strength returned he vanished without incident, leaving no trace save for the collection of spider webs that had gathered during his slumber.

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18 = 10 + 6 (Missed Rollover) + 2 (Another Missed Rollover)
7 = 18 - 11: Destroy the Weave (Bless, MR 6) The barrier that prevented teleportation, summoning, shadow stepping, and other forms of instantaneous travel over the Blessed/Blasted Isles is now gone.

18/18 GP
+1 DR!

7/21 AP
3/21 GP