(LOC): We Will Be Titans (WWBT) IC

[Razade]

Yen'Hi: The Midnight Isle

Yen'Hi sat watching the sky as the light twinkled brightly in the heavens and for the first time it regarded the darkness that covered its land and it recalled the Sun that was born with the rest of the world from the Void. And from the waves came a cracking and the darkness pulled apart and it is said in this time that the stars themselves danced as the mud from the depths of the world pulled into the sky and formed a silver disk that would travel with the night and be companion with the Sun, a dark reflection to the Golden Disk as Yen'Hi was to the other Gods.

The Elven Confederacy

The Elves of the land of Hoklo were content for the Tribe of Thunder, in their hope to ease the hunting of the precious life of their forests, had found plains between themselves and the mountains of the Frost Tribe and with the Songs that Shaped the World they brought water to help their plants grow and from the bread basket of the valleys they swore to feed their brethren should they forswear meat and the killing of the creatures of the forest. The Wave Tribe refused, instead stealing away the knowledge of the fields and took it to their homes where they grew feed to fatten the animals they raised. The Tribes were incensed and a great meeting called and words of warning issued. Yet the Wave Tribe did not fear for in secret they had learned to use the Songs that Shaped the World to bring back the Unworthy Dead and for the first time unliving feet moved through the sacred groves of the Elves. The Tribes went their separate ways from this meeting, all knowing that there would be repercussions for the Wave Tribe's aggression.

Spoiler

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Create Celestial Body: The Moon - 2 AP
Create Concept: Agriculture -1 AP
Advance Age (Elves): Iron Age - 1 AP
Create Magical Concept: Necromancy - 2 AP

6 AP - 2 AP -2 AP - 1 AP - 1 AP = 0 AP

[ImNotTrevor]

Spoiler: OOC

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Jumping in late game is difficult. Excuse the poor quality. I have to get up early tomorrow and won't have much time until later.

It had been so long since the creation of the world. So many gods had arisen and gone their way.

And some gods were never truly born at all.

Such happened to little Irius. He was to be a God of Healing and Medicine. But with all the chaos, not enough divinity was spared to him. His body fell to the earth and was buried. Where it lies, the soil is tainted and does not grow plants. But with the renewed activity of the gods, so much divinity being slung here and there, something sparks within the body of little Irius.

The bones twitch and spark, desperate for life. A skeleton rises, desperate and hungry. Starving for divinity.

It trudges slowly, limping and painful. It is drawn inexorably to a small shrine. A little hut built to respect another God. Irius' rotting body fell upon it, consuming the shrine and shuddering with pleasure.

That was all the being needed to respark its divine growth. But its journey into death had tainted the godling forever.

----

Ichorius slowly erected himself. Only the faintest memories of a previous existence remained. He recalled nothingness. He recalled dying. He recalled hunger and pain.

He looked at his own form. It flowed and sucked at the air and dribbled onto the ground. He had been standing under a tree before...now it was a barren, rotted log. Something in him itched. Like a sneeze in his belly.

Ichorious plodded forward. Walking was slow and difficult. This would not do.

The slime and filth adorning him shivered and moved, lifting him and carrying him forward as if astride a thick wave. Ah yes. This was much better.

And in his wake, a trail of death followed.

[Toxic Mind]

Yara awakes. Time was meaningless to the gods, and much of it had passed. A brief nap was for the world many generations. She surveys the world for a time. The Wolven had changed. Thriving commerce had begun between the four different packs, for different materials to each, as befitting their own special lands. From the Mountain Wolven, the Ironfur, came ores of the earth, copper and iron and crystals mined from deep within the mountains. The metals provided the backbone of Wolven troops, the hardiest and most powerful. The crystals were always strange, and each color affected each Wolven differently. But all invariably tapped into the spirit world to give the one who ingested it some strange power over the world of the mystic. The crystals were less common, but more highly sought after. From the Wolven to the North, the Frostclaw, came the flesh of the creatures in the snows, which gave the eater the ability to survive extreme temperatures and go long periods of time without eating. This was highly sought after by the Ironfur to protect those that mined the deepest mountains from the crushing pressure and heat, and the Sandhide to weather the long periods between feasts among the desert sands. From the Sandhide came the flesh of their desert competition, Sand Wyrms and the like. This gave the eater the power to move unseen through almost any terrain, that sight would slide across them without notice. This was highly sought by the Frostclaw and the Earthfang, who often used stealth to capture their prey. It would seem that the Earthfang might have brought the flesh of their kills, but after much experimentation, it was found that the flesh of prey reacted poorly to the gift of the Wolven. But the Earthfang had a greater prize, The Huntress' Star. They grew and harvested it, and traded it, so that all the adaptation could take place.

In the beginning, the Sandhide had attempted to harvest the flowers from the desert themselves, but it brought them too close to Bloodstone, with too much loss. And so balance was maintained among the Packs. Still, however, the Wolven did not create true cities, as we might know them. They preferred the wild, preferred the visceral primality of it all. And Yara approved. She visited the Alphas once more, a brief moment to enter their minds and their homes, to remind them of their Mother. Of course, they never forgot, but such reminders never hurt.

The Wolven had known of the goblins in Bloodstone, and the Shards, for a time now, though such relationships were decidedly antagonistic. However, the Gnomes in their holds, dotting the coastline of the Hunting Grounds, were spared such a fate. The Wolven found in them, while strange, some kinship, for the Gnomes too worshiped a form of the Huntress, and had a great deal to offer the Wolven in trade besides. Even now, the Wolven attempted to barter some agreement by which the nearest Wolven tribe would serve as guards, and some Wolven even came to live in the Holds of the gnomes, though usually on the outskirts, closest to the woods. They never stopped serving the Alpha of their Pack, but they had more freedom as well. It was tolerated, if just barely, by the Packs, for there was little reason to stop it. (OOC: Gnomes can now have Wolven Guards at the Holds if they want. Could even have a meeting between an Alpha and the Hold leader IC)

With the help of the gnomes, some of the wiser Wolven began experimenting with the mixing of metals, and the possibilities of the Huntress' Gift with things outside of the bounties of the earth, with varying degrees of success.

Spoiler: AP

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Advance: Iron Age 5/6
Create Sanctum: The Bleeding Glacier - The Glacier itself is Yara's Sanctum, and within it, the ice never melts, and there is always Huntress' Stars, even if all elsewhere they are destroyed. Nothing else changes about that section of the forest, however. 3/6

[bryn0528]

The Guild as a whole spent a great deal of time thinking over their relations with the Wolven. Long ago, at the dawn of time, Mycons feared the brutal hunters. Stronger now, for their transition into gnomes, and the significant breadth of their holdings, they held Wolven with a respectable equality. At a meeting in Hjaalhaus, the de facto capital of all the Guild (and simply not Juthardul), a grand council of all the hold's representative leaders voted 'aye' into expanding their trade options with the tribes.

It did not simply extend in hiring Wolven for their guards, much appreciated as it was along the dangerous Midenway, but in trade for goods as well. Gnomish looms produced fine fabrics from plant material the Guild harvested, lighter and more flexible than leather and furs, and more silent as well. Gnomish medicine was uncompared in the world, a vital gift to be shared. The gnomes attempted to bring currency to the Wolven, though they eschewed such a meaningless system. Instead, the gnomes offered their workshops; collaboration of the Packs and the Guild produced no finer bow or snare, the magical powers of alchemical comforts and pleasures available for use, and gnomes were still the finest of chefs bar none (while a deer roasted over an open flame is nice, venison delicacies could be a real treat).

In exchange, the gnomes adored the metals so better cultivated by claw than from acid. The precious stones of the earth captured the light of a gnome's eye greater than all else. The gnomes did not hunt except on occasion, so fresh meats (assured to be kills from non-sentient animals) were accepted as well as furs for wearing (Guild fashion is a fickle beast, each season sporting a new look, but fur quickly became a luxury item always in demand). The Guild also began to request live animals, which they could begin to build an infrastructure around; for the first time, the holds began to practice husbandry (mostly sheep and goats, but also birds).

This spurred new desires from the Guild. A group of four titled merchants (the Guild's equivalent of an unlanded gentry) accompanied with two gnomish gladiators and a Wolven tracker, guide, and hunter (all the same person), made their way to the World Tree deep in the forest. No telling if they would find such a place, but if the hunted god would allow, the Guild would highly appreciate skilled bankers.

Another, entirely unsimilar and slightly accidental forray is made west, onto the shores of Hoklo. The Guild names four island holdings, based on the great clusters of mushrooms which wander the seas. Generally the mechanisms of the world are precise enough that the general path of each island is the same. Every certain number of weeks or so and a coastal hold might expect a visit from one of its more ephemral brothers. Occasionally, a scheduled arrival could be days or even weeks late or early, and rarely, a course could be changed completely. A great ocean storm knocked one such hold, Hfaanhaus, further west than it had ever been before. Imagine the gnomish surprise to happen upon an (at least in their perspective) undiscovered island. A party was sent ashore, and thus began Nuedulhaus ("new land home") on the shores of Hoklo.

Spoiler

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AP Start: 6.
Create concept: barter/trade. -1
Advance age: The Guild is now Renaissance. -1
REMAINING AP: 4.

[Toxic Mind]

The Wolven understood little of currency, but they understood value. They saw the way the Gnomes looked upon the metals that were pulled from the earth, and the crystals. They found it odd enough, for the gnomes did not consume the crystals to commune with the spirits, did not need them to gain magic, as the Wolven did, but they valued them nonetheless. Of more curiosity were the bright metals, silver and gold, which the Gnomes eagerly traded for. The Gnomes would make strange ornaments with these metals, which the Wolven found useless, if pretty baubles. As for the currency, It was well known that Wolven from the packs would not accept such things often, though Alphas and their trusted lieutenants almost always dealt with the gnomes in currency for ease. Within the Pack, barter and trade still reigned, and skills of wit and tongue were highly prized, and made the chance of getting a good deal much better. In the beginning, some gnomish merchants took the bestial form of the Wolven to reflect a stupidity of the mind. They learned very quickly that to deal unfairly with the Wolven had dire, and usually fatal, consequences. But beyond a few initial incidents, relations were mostly cordial between the two, and a healthy respect for each other's strengths developed.

Still, the Alphas remained mysterious and aloof, dealing with gnomes only through surrogates. They did not deign to deal with anything less than the rulers of the gnomes, and thus far, no meeting had been asked for. To earn the favor of the Fist of an Alpha, the term for the primary agent of one of the leaders of the Pack, was highly sought after, as such patronage was lucrative beyond measure.

[squidpope]

Rizzet walked. And walked. And walked. He did not recall intending to make the Shards as tireless as they were. They never stopped. Not at night, not when the glorious bringer of dawn passed, not even when the mirages of the desert made the true way unclear. He had wanted to create hardy creatures, certainly, but these Shards were more like work animals than the life he had been trying to emulate. They did not discover or experiment like the Gnomes, nor vie for power like the Wolven. They did not have a sense of community like the Forest's Chosen, and the bound god would have been surprised if they even knew what fear was, let alone if they felt it. Even when they sung, the emotions they felt lasted only as long as they kept the tune going. Rizzit had wanted to make life, but had created only a shadow of it, a race with no desires or ambitions who only acted when told to. Like a mirage, he had copied the ideas of what he saw with no real thought as to the substance of it, and he would find a way to fix it. Not today though. He barely had the energy to keep up with the marching masses, and anything else was out of the question. Far ahead a city of brown stone loomed, its high walls dwarfed by a massive temple that was the very definition of decadence. He would see what was happening in the city first, and ask his brother how to proceed.

[Lizard Lord]

The Nation of the Forest had heard tails of gnomish trade and, more importantly, the goods that the gnomes have. Seeing an opportunity to expand their hoards, and to get shinier and fancier things added to said hoards, the forest-folk were eager to open trade with the gnomes. However their spies had informed them that the Wolven have begun to live within the gnomish holds and work as guards. In their paranoia the citizens of the forest had feared that they would be killed and eaten by these Wolven guards should they try to enter a gnomish hold.

Only the Guardians of the Forest seemed brave enough (or, more accurately, most of those brave enough had already joined the Guardians) but they were needed to protect against the predators. Eventually, however, Xerxias was convinced to make the journey, leaving the rest of the Guardians in charge of protection while he was away.

Before starting on his quest Xerxias made sure to grab a rare resource that the gnomes could not possibly find elsewhere, a miracle seed from the world tree. He traveled to Hjaalhaus to make his deal. On the way he was attacked by goblins numerous times but, with his wooden exoskeleton enhancing his strength, Xerxias proved his might as the protector of the forest and emerged victorious each time.

Still he was exhausted and worn by the time he had approached the gates of Hjaalhaus. Once there he simply walked straight towards the Wolven guards at the gate and informed them that he wished to discuss business with the guild leaders.

[ImNotTrevor]

He-Who-Corrupts came to the sea. He needed a place to stay. A place to hide. And he needed servants. His great works would begin soon enough.

He extended a pseudopod into the water, causing the filth of his body to spread, stagnating and thickening the sea as it went.
The land extended with the stagnation, creating a circular bog several hundred miles in diameter. The land was quickly choked with thorns and noxious weeds, which bore poisonous fruit and nectar.

Ichorious moved into the swamp, which would in years to come be named The Plaguelands.

Ichorius waded into his swamp and felt pleased. He travelled to its center and went about crafting his servants.

For a time he considered how to make them. How should they appear? What would comprise their forms? As he thought, inspiration finally came. He would craft them after his own image.

Ichorious swelled and doubled over. With a wretching cry he expelled the Firstborn from his gut. With another retch, he expelled the other.

The Ozix had been born. A race of living, thinking oozes. The key lay in their orb-shaped cores, which floated in the midst of their forms. It was their sensory organ that allowed them to perceive the world. It allowed them to think. It was what made them alive.

Ichorius felt tired now. He needed to rest for a season while his creations multiplied and worshipped him to renew his strength. In the meantime, he rested.

[Toxic Mind]

When the forest creature appeared, the Wolven were astounded. Such an action was unheard of. One was iron Wolven, his claws and fur like the metals of the earth. The other was stone Wolven, slow, immovable, and impassable without consent. Yet for the first time in existence, the Wolven did not attack. The iron Wolven nods and in a voice like the grinding of metals says only "you seek the leaders of the Gnomes. Be welcome, Protector." The fame of Xerxias was known, and while his hide was sought after above all others, to break the treaty of peace with the gnomes was suicide. And to take the honor of such a hunt from an Alpha was to ask for a fate worse than death.

It was known that none but the Alphas would have the strength or cunning to fight against the protector of the forest. His name was spoken alongside that of predators, an honor never before afforded to any not of divine nature among the creatures of the forest.

[bryn0528]

The first few expeditions into the forest to find the famed Yggdrasil proved fruitless, and each return of gnomish and Wolven explorers brought more disappointment. The appearance of a walking tree on the road spread rumors that reached Hjaalhaus long before the guardian himself. The wooden gates swing open easily wjen the Wolven keepers pull a lever and unseen mechanisms set to work.

The city inside is unlike anywhere else, like any gnomosh city. Along the road there are homes and buildings with stone foundations and pleasant plaster and post walls, glass windows and tile roofs lacquered in vibrant colors. But in Hjaalhaus, the homes are built upon wooden foundations in the branches of the trees. Wooden bridges and platforms suspended by ropes serve as the city roads. At Xerxias' arrival, the city rejoiced. Banners and flags of every color hung from railing and roof. Gnomes threw flowers on Xerxias journey though the city (on the ground paths, escorted by a litany of Wolven guards). The road ended with a large wooden ramp into the Guild Center.

Overlooking the bay, a structure like a large ship suspended in the trees. Criers announce Xerxias, who is walked into the large and open wooden building. The main hall is a great semi-circle of sixteen chairs behind a raised podium. Only one of these chairs does not have an elderly gnome wearing robes seated in it (the seat is empty, not with another race sitting there or a gnome not wearing robes).

The gnome in the center, a woman of incredible girth and grey hair barely contained by the tight bun it attempted to be in. Her skin is sable dark, and her robes are canary yellow. "Welcome, Protector!" she said entusiastically with a spread of her arms. She smiled. "And captain," she added, to the Wolven attendant who entered with Xerxias. "The Guild just voted and decided to call our Wolven guards 'knights'. It felt more flavored than 'guards'. I know you don't care much for frivolous titles, bit we hope you enjoy it." She smiled again and turned back to the guardian. She gestured, a little impatiently, for Xerxias to get on with it.

[Lizard Lord]

Xerxias was disappointed that the Wolven where smart enough not to pick a fight with him as he had hoped that they would break the treaty with the gnomes. But he had no intention of picking a fight with the Guild either and so entered the city.

His disappointment with the guards was soon replaced with the pride and joy he felt at the fanfare that the gnomes had thrown. He was the champion of the greatest of animals and was happiest when he was revered and recognized as such.

When Xerxias arrived he bowed slightly to the gnomish women and proceeded to business. "It is simple. The Nation of the Forrest would like to trade with the Guild. We have our own technologies, goods, and techniques that we may share with the guild. As well we would like to establish banks within the guild settlements, if it pleases you. Finally, among the goods we have available to trade we also have these."

With that Xerxias opened the hand of his wooden armor and reveal a seed of the world tree inside. "The seeds of the world tree have replaced missing limbs and have also grown the armor I wear now. Though it is likely that they may serve even more uses and if so we believe that gnomish ingenuity can discover those other uses."

The hand then closed and Xerxias glanced towards the guard captain before continuing. "However, for these we have a condition. For obvious reasons we do not want the power of these seeds to fall into the wrong hands. It is primarily intended for use for the Guild's architects, alchemists, and leaders. It may only be traded to those not fitting this description upon approval from the leadership of the Nation of the Forest. I hope you understand."

[bryn0528]

The gnomish speaker, none other than Guild Chaptermaiden Nachthein, the leader of Hjaalhaus and main speaker to all Guild affairs in general, remained stoic. "The Guild considers your gift, brave champion of Ratatoskr." She looked to the other council memebers, who shuffle in their chairs and whisper behind hands to one another. After a moment, an old man with a balding head and shocks of white hair sticking from the sides of his head, with a pointy white beard and who wore azure blue robes, lifted a stick of wood lacquered and dyed green. Ten other council members followed suit, but the three others raised red sticks instead. "And the Guild accepts your gift with grace." She waved a hand and ushered an aide forward, a young boy who carried a red plush pillow and knelt before Xerxias. "We hope this transaction will signify a long and healthy relationship of trade between the guild and the Nation of the Forest." Though Nachthein's words were floral, her tone fell a little flat.

A rough man wearing robes the color of new moss cleared his throat. This was Dunbran, representative of Gjaarhaus (the northernmost hold of Juthardul, so named for the snow that covers it three seasons out of four). Chaptermaiden Nachthein smiled with a sly grin and added, "In exchange we hope you accept our gifts as well." She clapped twice and a wizened man, by far the oldest in the room, with a crooked back and wearing funny silver clothes and a leather apron, came forward with a glass bottle. The bottle had a globe on the bottom and a long thin neck. An inch of dirt filled the glass, and a long vine sprouted from that. A cork stoppered the bottle, clasped shut with metal. "The Nation of the Forest," she explained as the old alchemist presented the bottle to the guardian, "is not the only to work in the arts of plants. Though yours is of magical nature, ours is derived from the sciences. We present to you our own alchemically enriched soil, for which I am sure your people can find a use for. It too comes with a caveat, that the soil is not to be analyzed for its components nor its properties reproduced. Only a master geobabis may learn the process and be properly licensed. Any attempts to learn or undermine Guild secrets will be seen as an act of war and will be met with suitable return fire."

She calmed, having become incited with fervor. "Of course, we offer more than just a handful. You will find escorts outside, waiting with a small landbarge," (which is just another way of saying a flatbed cart) "To follow you. Among them, will be enough gnomes to begin a new holding for the guild." She gestured to the empty chair. "After a year and a day of being established, Yggdrasilhaus will appoint a representative to the council. Our clerks there will work to facilitate trade and to ensure the contract of these agreements is upheld." She smiled but spoke without mirth, almost condescending. "The Guild will inform the haus to be with licensing sale of world tree seeds."

[Toxic Mind]

It did not take long for the Wolven to know of the development. After all, the guards may work for the gnomes, but they served the Alpha first above all. And the Alpha of the Earthfang, a female Wolven whose pelt was the same red ochre of blood, heard. And she wondered how this would change the power of the world. Messengers moved from pack to pack, correspondence among the leaders to find a solution for this new problem.

The Wolven trackers continued their forays into the Forests, but were always careful to steer the gnomes away from the true places of power, the World Tree and the Bleeding Glacier most especially. The Wolven trusted that the animals of the forest would keep their home tree safe, and the Wolven lead the unknowing gnomes away from the home of Yara, for such a site was sacred beyond outside comprehension, and held as well the gift of the Huntress, which could never be allowed to fall into the hands of any outsider. The Wolven did this unknown to their supposed benefactors, to maintain the proper relationship. And despite their lack of success at finding the World Tree or other places of power, the Wolven Trackers were invaluable, having been raised in the areas they searched, and knowing them far better than any who dwelt in a city might.

[Lizard Lord]

Xerxias's nostrils flared, not appreciating the condescending tone, but otherwise kept a civil tongue. The gnomes will eventually figure out that the seeds can not be duplicated and should they breach contract their supply would be cut off. Placing the sample seed on the pillow Xerxias bowed once more to the guild leaders before taking his leave.


He had lead the gnomes to the World Tree as agreed. With a larger and more guarded caravan there were fewer, if any, goblin attacks on the way.

Though they were forbidden from looking into gnomish technologies the Nation of the Forest were still inspired by exposure to gnomish to gnomish culture to creature their own technologies as well as improve those that had already developed.

The jars of enriched soil were at first hoarded as souvenirs by the forest-folk and went unused for some time. Eventually there would be some forest-folk that would be curious enough to try and find out what they can do with it (without discovering how it was made, of course) but that is a story for later.

Spoiler: AP

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3
-1 Advance Age: Iron Age

[ImNotTrevor]

Ichorius wallowed in his bog peacefully for now, but his head already swam with plans.

His servants acted out their whims, but were sure to give their worship and occasional offerings to He-Who-Corrupts.

The Ozix were immune to the poisonous plants and thorns that grew in their home, and so could consume them with impunity. Their consumption of the toxins made their own bodies toxic and often foul-smelling.

A favorite hunting tactic for the Ozix was to act as a living trap. Their shape was highly malleable, and so hiding in a puddle and waiting for prey to come along was a simple and effective method.

It was not long into the life of the Plaguelands that a group of Wolven adventured in, seeking new prey to be had in this new and strange landscape.

Gorib had been waiting for prey for several days now. Now it would be faced with more food than it could possibly eat at once.

Something stepped on him. Gorib did as it was wont to do whenever food happened along.

The Wolven called out to his fellows. His foot was stuck in the muck. An annoyance beyond mere hindrance. His fellows openly mocked him for his foolishness and for getting trapped like prey. He didn't get the chance to respond.

A sickly green pseudopod lashed out from the muck and latched around his throat before dragging him under with a jerking motion. Gorib enveloped his prey, holding it under the water where it would soon drown. It was stronger than Gorib anticipated, but it had already become ensnared beyond saving.

The other Wolven watched cautiously as the water ceased frothing. A single final bubble burst on the surface. After a few more seconds, their ally's limp form rose from the depths, enveloped in green slime. The creature rose from the muck and shivered. A dark red orb slithered to the top, seemingly looking at them.

There was a moment of tense silence before the Wolven leapt in to seek revenge. Gorib flowed out of the way of the initial assault, and rolled into the next small pond of muck. Its only hope was to hide and run better than these strange furry creatures could pursue.

After nearly an hour of chasing, the Wolven were forced to give up. The bog sucked at their legs and matted their fur with filth. Another of their number was shaking uncontrollably after brushing against a thorn bush and cutting himself on a thorn.

Two days later he would succumb to the poison.

Gorib lived and spent nearly a month digesting its meal before spitting up the skeleton and the strange metal the creature had worn. It was all left as an offering to Ichorius.

He-Who-Corrupts accepted the offering. His creations were deadly in their own element, but more would need to be done. His servants were not soldiers. No. He needed a more subtle approach. One that would let his servants focus on his needs.

He knew what needed to be done. But for now, we needed to regain his strength.

[Toxic Mind]

The Plaguelands. When they were discovered, they were closest to the mountain homes of the Ironfur. Originally, the other packs did as they always had when one was threatened but all were not. They ignored it. But soon enough, it became clear that the Plaguelands, while dangerous, had something to offer the Wolven. Poisons. Toxins. Venom. These were things that none beyond those who had seen the venom dripping from the barbed tail of the Huntress knew of. The Ironfur began harvesting them. And the first strata of Wolven society began to take form. No true hunter would risk themselves in the dangerous swamps. So other Wolven took up the task, just as there were miners, so too came the gatherers. They used the Gift of the Huntress to adapt hardened skin that would keep the barbs from piercing flesh and injecting their deadly toxins. The Ozix, simply called the swamp ones at that time, were always a risk, but soon enough, the Wolven began sending gatherers with those that adapted from the sapphires of the earth, and found an elemental affinity with the spirits of frost. They would freeze the swamps around the gatherers, either killing or driving away the Ozix that might lay in wait.

And it would continue such a way for a time, though the Wolven would not share the secrets of their poisonous finds with others, beyond the newly poisoned traps and arrow tips. Such an advantage was to be kept as much as possible. And seeing as how the Ozix did not bother to attempt contact, as far as the Wolven were concerned, they were pests, to be eradicated when found. Predators, yes, but they were not of the Huntress, the Wolven knew in their blood, and thus were little better than the animals of the forest, if decidedly less edible.

[Razade]

[Elven Confederacy]

Word moved through the Confederacy, strange small peoples in large buildings that moved across the waves had come to the shores of Hoklo. For seven days and seven nights the Young Sages spoke with one another and what was to be done about the strange creatures from beyond their shores. It was decided in the morning of the seventh day that each tribe would send a member of their tribe as a delegation and each would be skilled with the powers of the Songs that Shaped the World for no one Tribe was to have a louder voice than the united People of Yen'Hi. It would be this framework that the Elves would use from here after should other strange creatures come from beyond. And it was this first Delegation that came to the land of Nuedulhaus.

However it was not just the matter of how to deal with the strange creatures from beyond the waves peacefully that was discussed. With the Wave Tribe's creation of the Undead the other tribes began to discuss how to counter not only new threats but threats from within. Those with the Songs that Shaped the World had met during the Meeting Festival, discussing the Laws and the Words and came forth at the last night of the Seven Days and presented their work. From the wood and the rock they had shaped a man twice as tall as the tallest Elf. They had sung it's skeleton from the Elder Trees and carved it's muscles from the clay of the rivers. It had taken many hands but when the body was done it was covered in the furs of animals and the stone of the quarries and they called them Guardians, and from here after they walked the lands of the Elves.

Spoiler

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Create Concept: Diplomacy -1
Create Mythical Concept: Golemcraft -2

3+1= 3 AP - 3 AP= 0 AP