(IC) Lords of Creation: The Grateful and the Odious (LOC)

[bc56]

Tenebreon: A contribution to dwarf all others.

Tenebreon looked upon the world and decided he needed to revitalize his followers in the Scholars of Stone. They had become lazy and uncreative, not developing new inventions, merely studying the old ones. Tenebreon used his power, and in the darkness of his old laboratories, a new race came into being. They were taller than Halflings but shorter than Humans, their hair wild and unkempt, growing in numerous brilliant colors, and their males were heavily bearded. Their skin was the grey of the stone around them. Driven by a desire, no, a need for action, they clambered to the surface and joined the Scholars. They could not sit still, building and rebuilding, constantly creating new devices, often useless, sometimes destructive, but occasionally effective. And one such invention was the steam engine. A bronze tank of water was heated by fire, and the steam run through pipes to produce mechanical energy. With this, the devices which previously needed waterwheels and rivers to function can run just as well anywhere where there is some water.

A Kobold on Trial in the Jungle

"Kill me?" Yolo shudders. "Very well then. I am Yolo. I am an explorer and a servant of Tenebreon, God of Gears. I came here to have one last adventure before I die."

Two Kobolds (and a Reaver) not on trial underwater

"We are explorers, part of a larger party. We split up to search for signs of civilization some time ago." One Kobold answers. "We were charged by our empress and our god to seek out new knowledge and civilizations," The other finishes. The Reaver says and does nothing; it is not designed to do anything other than follow orders.

Spoiler: AP accounting:

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Start: 0/20
Rollover: 5/20
Create Sapient Life: Dwarves [Knowledge (open source) 9/10]
Dwarves are short, stocky humanoids. They have grey skin and brightly colored hair. They have an innate drive to action; they cannot let themselves stay idle, and are constantly working, eating, playing, or sleeping. Dwarves also have an innate mechanical aptitude, an ability to design inventions no one else has though of.

Create Advanced Concept: Steam Power [Knowledge (open source) 10/10] (artifact charge)
Steam power is the future! Machines can easily run anywhere at any time if they're powered by steam, rather than water or wind. Although on its own, it's less than impressive, with other inventions it could be incredibly powerful.

Claim domain: Knowledge (open source)

Ascend to Intermediate Deity

Remaining AP: 2/24

[mystic1110]

Spoiler: Previously

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It was subtle when the light came back into the Mer's form. Perhaps it was seeing her homeland, perhaps simply seeing him glance her way had rekindled a fire within her. He did not know, but The Prince did muse on this strangeness as they walked. Why did he feel compelled to bring her along? What was that secret that he was so sure she knew? It troubled him. Perhaps that was why he did not notice. Perhaps he was infected with Pride, so insidious a disease, that he did not consider the danger. Perhaps he did not think the gestures, small and subtle, worth his notice.

The Prince had walked many steps with his hand on the Mer General Tamesis' shoulder before he noticed it - his aura was not affecting her. True, he had not tried to subjugate her will beneath his own, but his mere closeness had been detrimental to her before. Now, as he looked down at her face, he noticed a feral smile. He'd seen it before, on his Mer slave's face: I know something that you don't.

"Keep walking" Tamesis remarked nonchalantly, her smile never wavering. The Prince followed the lines of her arms underneath him to find that her left snaked underneath his own and held a long dagger, point first, a hair's-width away from his chest. "You're thinking that you could use all that fancy mind-power. You're thinking that you might just crush me with your strength." She says, expression fixed in stone. "It won't work - not fast enough." She looks up at him from the corner of her eyes. "Maybe you're thinking that fancy hide of yours would protect you from a simple bone weapon. It won't. This is no ordinary bone dagger. Its strength is the strength of my arm, and all those whose story it tells." By now, his slaves have noticed something wrong, but not what, not yet. One simply smiles at him, infuriatingly, and his attache is too caught up in the thrall of her own prideful display towards her once-people. "Remove your hand and never touch me again without my permission. You are not my ruler, not my master, not my superior. You presume too much, Prince of the Raj. Do so again, and it will cost you your life." She stops now, and the sharp tug is enough to make him realize that she is strong, far stronger than any Mer had a right to be. "You might kill me in that instant. But it will mean your death, and when we die, my army will hunt your people down like vermin and slaughter them before they ever make it out of our land. Are you willing to damn them for your Pride, Prince of the Raj?"

The Prince Laughs heartily, the Blade's reaction and words were an amusing display of feisty pride. And those weapons of bone . . . interesting. Perhaps this alliance could be more than just nominal - but an actual strategic maneuver. If he could return to the Raj with a Queen and new Magic, he could see himself as one of the great Rajahs. And, perhaps . . . forget the queen. What Queen that the Raj would respect would even marry a prince? Instead - there was this small Mer's fierceness and the bravery that allured her. There was something in her countenance that reminded him of . . . his own mysterious slave? He was not sure, but he looked at her with admiration and lust.

You misunderstand my actions my dear, but perhaps you know more about me than I do myself. I would most desire to know how to earn you.

He Laughs again and takes his hand off her and instead gestures at the city, its temples, the opera house, and all the armies assembled.

Come Come, show my the wonders of your empire.

[neriractor]

Ramona Bittermoss: Dead. The gate/s

Spoiler: Previously

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Steam that Greets the Morning: Before a Gate

Sorrow meant little to a Derro though Steam that Greets the Morning couldn't help shake even as they walked familiar roads the unease seeing their companion in such a state. They had no words to express it, the Derro language couldn't have words for things the Derro didn't feel after all, but they stuck close ever after. Even through the kobolds and goblins. Even when they found the pool they'd long since been dead in. Their bodies gone and in their place some terrifying statue.

And something familiar. It had been in the Bones of the World with them, so long ago it seemed. How long had they been here? With no light to track the passage of time it could have been centuries or even just a single day. Steam that Greets the Morning had no desire to dwell on that thought. Fear was not for the Derro but those thoughts...they were as inky and black as the creature before them. "We are sorry to keep you waiting, we got here as soon as we could. We have seen much of this land...this Necropolis...but I believe our journey has ended. This one has no illusion, that you will simply let us return to our lands. The way would have been clear if that were so. Were you, Gate, with this one in the tunnels beneath? Should this one have followed you then, and not the voices on the walls? Would it have mattered at all? Was it ever truly this one's choice? Was this all to meet Ramona? Or someone else like her?"

Spoiler: AP

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AP: 5

Alter Land (1AP) - The Wyrm's Roost: At the center of the largest chunk of frozen slime rests The Wyrm's Roost, a towering pillar of redwood and evergreen forests where several Wyrms make their home. The Wyrm's Roost, despite no light, seems to function as any large forest would outside the Ever-Night though this seems a trap, anything entering the Roost is a meal for the Wyrms. Basalt towers and ruins dot the expanse and it is here the Wyrms rest. [Utter Cold (Nightmares) 8/10]

Bridge Plane (2AP) - The Scaled Cairns: The Oceans of Ever-Night and the Necropolis are linked as marshes and wetlands form between the cairns that populate the edge of the Necropolis. The Bridge lies in the Wyrm's Roost, any foolish enough to brave the Wyrm's homes will find themselves lost in a place far, far worse. [Utter Cold (Nightmares) 10/10]

Create Organization (1AP) - The Tsuru: Based from the College of Song, the Tsuru are Derro Scholars, Mystics and those who use Songspell in practical applications outside the Kamo's reach of influence and control. The Tsuru have several other cabals around Wano and especially in the Hinterlands of the newly created frontier. The Tsuru often work in tandem with the Kamo and the Taka in these rough areas and are always eager to apply their toolsets in strange and unorthodox ways. (Craft (Innovation) 1/10]

Create Organization (1AP) - The Taka: The Derro have always been a hardy and dangerous people and now they turn their eyes to fresh land. Where the Suzume explore lands of other races, the Taka explore the lands unclaimed by all but nature. Taka are hardy frontier warriors and survivialists and many set up roads and other trappings of society for Derro homesteaders to take advantage of. Taka typically work in small groups and are only selected by older members of their organization if they can prove their cunning and the ability to both think and make on the fly. (Craft (Innovation) 2/10]


A Single Stone ascends to Intermediate

[Ramona Bittermoss and Steam that Greets the Morning]

The Oil Baron chuckles.

"No, that was Osgood. I am Gates. He lives up there in the First World, and I am here, an idle thought of The Fortress of Moss, a tendril of A Single Stone. Little more than another caretaker, tasked with cleaning up the blood and bits of bodies in this place. Only one I have not had to deal with is the lich over there."

A black tendril squirms out of the pool, pointing to the silent skeleton.

"I knew you would come back because I read your brains and knew you would seek a way out, and everything would point you back to me, there is no way back into the First World but... Well."

More tendrils pop out, pointing upwards into the Descent.

"So obvious when you think about it, but mortals are not good at thinking, they are good at being afraid, angry, hungry and horny. And you have been mortal for awhile, probably haven't even really noticed the days, the months, the years go by without your flesh telling you all its needs. Did you? Well, it matters little."

"I can take you out, but in return, I will ask for something. I will ask that when you are back up there, you remember me and what I like to read. Memories."

"If you don't like that, you can ask him instead."

All tentacles retract but the one pointing at the skeleton.

Ramona stayed in solemn silence, staring with just enough determination to pull her forward as much as retracing your steps could be. Sights already seen and faceless spectres that she might have known before went like flashes through her eyes deep in thought, she considered trying to guide them, to bring them to the gates but the memory of the giant propped up, and the fear of hopelessness made it true.

She stood before the fountain with curiosity and something approaching hope, she was after all adressed by name, and she listened intently as her companion... Friend may be more appropiate now that they had spent such lifetimes together; spoke of a journey's end, and questioned the spirit. She allowed herself a smile whitout it replying.

And even when it happened she returned the chuckle faintly at learning the "idle thought" was called gates, she didn't really chuckle anymore during it though.

the trappings of a gruesome job, the feint that played her emotions like a fiddle: no way out, except there is, and a palatable condescendence (not that she knew the word) to explain himself, Ramona did not like the Baron and her furrowed brow did not attempt to hide it.

She took a step ahead, in the most proactive move since she learned of her dead and standing tall she replied, looking for clarification "be direct, wouldn't forget anything if I wanted" she adressed the lich as well, no longer surprised if an skeleton actually replied "What can you do about getting out?"

Daghir, Mausolleoum

Spoiler: Previously

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[The Mausoleum]

Daghir, stuck alone in the quiet.

Another Empyrean god?

Surrounded by words carved in stone, fading at the speed of tumbling mountains. Fast as a river carving its final bed.

The speaker, I reckon. I have heard of you. There is nothing for you here, this is a place of silence and contemplation. The fading has begun, so many gods have fallen to it, and I must catalogue them all, I must remember.

But I do not need to remember you yet.

You should leave.

Spoiler: AP

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14 AP

2 AP Bridge Plane (Necropolis - Panopticon) - THe Hollow: The Hollow sits right in the center of Panopticon, a hole in the plane leading directly to some corner of Necropolis' outer marshes. Whatever machinery used to sit there has fallen into the elemental bogs and most certainly been ruined beyond recovery. Moss and vines and Presences spread from the bridge into the plane. [10/10 Knowledge (History)]

12 AP

Daghir looked around his prison, more confused than aggravated. It was an inadequate thing, of course it wasn't made as a prison and no one saw it that way, but it was so for reasons given in a lack of word.

he was Empyrean carrying trappings out of nothing but a quaint drive to be like others. And apparently there were more like him, if only such a discovery wasn't sullied by the heinous lack of nuance behind the carvings in stone. He understood it somehow, and likely would be nauseous by it if he had a stomach, still he replied tentatively if only to see if he could get a proper reply to the many questions he had.

He thought of correcting him, he was hardly a speaker amongst so many others, and he did very much enjoy silence and contemplation, as much as one who never actually had the first could... "Do you hear with a mockery like this?" he pointed to the jade golem held by turbulance, and very soon the words fell upon him, gods had fallen...

"What is the fading, and your role in it?

will it affect me if I stay? will you forget me if I leave?"

he tempted meaning out of the words, one he just couldn't discern in such a mediocre copy of speech; conflict stirred within his body.

[Razade]

Of Masks and the Derro: A Caracan Inquiry Volume Four

I was a young girl when I first met a Derro. I'd been told stories of the strange and taciturn warriors that arrived in our lands, my mother and father would speak highly of the few they'd met outside the regular trade caravans that rolled through our homestead in brightly colored wagons pulled by lumbering beasts. The Derro dressed in heavy robes and other concealing garb dyed in a variety of vibrant colors and wore a mask that reminded me of our hunting hound, my father's most prized possession. My grandmother, when I rushed to tell her of the Suzume that had given me a basket of sweets heavier than myself, spoke of the Derro or her time. The bestial and frightening warriors with their ebonwood spears and harsh honors. She'd said in just two generations they'd changed so much. It fascinated me and when I moved to Kapet I endeavored to explore these changes. The challenge presented itself immeditly, the Derro speak of their Ur'Wen and their cooking, their songs and their honor but very few dwell on their history. The ancestors, they all would say, take care of this. The ancestors remember and they need only speak to their ancestors to understand.

So I put my name on a very long waiting list and became one of the first of our people into their lands. There is much to write about on this front but I must admit there was a great deal of culture shock. Not because their culture was strange to us, the Derro culture is very brusque and earnest, but of the culture I had presumed would be present. Every Derro beyond Wano's borders wear a mask yet in their own lands only a few of their kind continue this practice.

The Kamo and Tsuru wear their masks unless they are alone, I am told, but the Suzume and even the Nobles go without. Beyond the lands of Wano the Suzume wear masks of dog or foxlike persuasion, inks and symbols used to tell other Derro their family status and a myriad of other things. A whole lexicon could be written on these Mask-Signs, just for the Suzume alone! The masks are, like so many things, an extension of the Ur'Wen. Various animal gods and spirits venerated by the Derro are picked to be made into these masks and there is an extensive market for mask makers within most Derro cities.

The Kamo, aforementioned, are the tradespeople of the Derro. Apprentices are given a mask when they enter the Kamo, usually of some insect or arachnid, and as they progress to Journeyman they are afforded the ability to alter their masks. Masters are given full control over their mask, able to add or subtract whatever they feel is required. Some are truly outrageous. The Tsuru follow suit, for I believe they came from the Kamo, in that the younger and less learned of their number are given standard masks they are not permitted to alter. The more learned and older Derro within the Tsuru are given more freedoms towards their expressions though the Tsuru seem to favor less mundane animals.

I had the occasion to meet one of the Taka, much talked of in certain circles, though they were like many Derro without mask in their homelands. If Derro are a strict and practical people, the Taka refine these traits. Perhaps it is the long isolation in what the Derro term the Hinterlands or just part of their calling. For whatever reason, the Taka in question seemed mostly annoyed at being asked most of the questions I had for them though I was given limited time to inspect their mask. The Taka had chosen some bird of prey as their motif though I was unfamiliar with its type and cannot say if this was their personal choice or some wider organizational decree. It would strike me as strange if it were the latter.

[mystic1110]

Plague of Frogs

Being hunted by the mechanical guardians of Turrim Autem and the shadowy assassins of Alamut had greatly reduced the population of the Slaadi. They were either vermin to the machines or prizes for the mongooses - and regardless of how deadly they were, they were mere animals and as such were prey.

Their home in the forests of Turrim Autem was constantly in danger of logging and so they began to mostly retreat to the thin and shallow swamps of the tower. However, by chance, or if not by chance, by the equal whims of the goddess that made them the Slaadi found one such swamp that seemed to be composed of gasoline runoff from the factories and mechanisms of the tower below.

Most of the Slaadi were one vibrant color, mainly purpler, yellow, green and blue, and they saw these colors mixing in the chaotic swirls of the Quag. The Quag was unusual and strange and most of the Slaadi did not enter it and instead stayed near its borders - the fumes from the Quag seemed to be poisonous to their hunters or made them rust. There was safety here.

One day, while hopping among the trees, one of the Brood Mothers slipped on some slime (placed there? Who is to say) and fell into the Quag. She fell in and was covered by its dull rainbow muck and swam and pushed through it until she reached the surface. However, when she emerged she did not see the forest of Turrim Autem but instead a vast filthy plain. The sky was a sort of dull black. Gloomy instead of stark. The Quag laid next to trees that bore fruit in such abundance that their branches would sag to the ground. The rotting fruit forming piles. She could see on the vast plains large animals - larger than ten Slaadi standing on top of each other. And she saw a large mountain strange in its symmetry in the distance.

She dove back into the chaotic Quag and remerged in Turrim Autem. She Garbled to the other Slaadi to follow her, but only some did - however the Slaadi began to live between these two worlds, the Forest of Turrim Autem, the Chaos Quag and the Swamps of the Ziggaraut. And eventually, that first Brood Mother to make the journey was to give birth. Now mostly a litter of Slaadi would bear many eggs. Hundreds, since not all would bear fruit. Here however the Brood mother only bore two eggs.

Brékkek Kékkek Kékkek Kékkek! Kóax Kóax Kóax!, she cried. Brékkek Kékkek Kékkek Kékkek! Kóax Kóax Kóax!, other Slaadi answered her. Perhaps the strange oil of the Swamp and this new strange land have poisoned her, although the Slaadi never knew poison till now. Many of them left the Ziggaraut due to this strange occurrence in fear although they did not leave the shores of the Chaos Quag back in Turrim Autem. The Brood Mother remained afraid to leave her few eggs. She fought off greater creatures and even a traveling devil. She would protect her paltry brood. Finally, one day the eggs began to crack underneath that dull grim sky. She expected children like her sisters - colorful small tadpoles. Instead, two full-grown frogs emerged - both without color except for the reds of their eyes. One was black as void and the other white as snow.

Brékkek Kékkek Kékkek Kékkek! Kóax Kóax Kóax!, she exclaimed.

No, Mother, do not fear us - for we have come - they both answered in discordant unison. They were the first of the newborn Elder Slaadi - newly born and already old. They spoke with the wisdom of entropy.

Spoiler: AP Bookkeeping

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AP 5:

Mythical Sub Race - 3 AP - Elder Slaadi. These Slaadi are born either ebon black or albino white and each have red eyes. They are intelligent, can speak, and have all the powers of usual high-level Slaadi.

Bridge Plane - The Chaos Quag - 2 AP - The Chaos Quag is a swamp on the top of the Tower of Turrim Autem that looks like it is covered in a fine film of gasoline - and as such looks like it shines with a dirty rainbow. Those who swim through it find that they can emerge covered in filth in the Ziggurat, that equally filthy plane.

Ap 0:

[Nefarion Xid]

Resplendent Realms

Mamona arrived with her typical fanfare. A summoning circle sparked to life from nothing, erupted into golden fire, and then there she stood with the ground no worse for the transplanar traversal. Most of her retinue had been left behind, but a pair of lilim flanked her, bearing gifts. One carried a crystal decanter of sweetest mead in preposterous proportion. The other had a dozen cuttings of Mamona's favorite pear tree that would take root as soon as they touched soil.

"Loo? Selima? Darlings, I've brought gifts. I rather thought it was time to have a tour of your realm."

[TheDarkDM]

Nemesis

Looloodi

Reclining in his throne, Nemesis waited. But for all his strength and craft, he had no talent for waiting. Running his thumb along the living edge of the Sunstone Chain, he felt the defiance of Looloodi coiled through every invisible link. It dawned on Nemesis that he had perhaps taken his victory for granted, that the Goddess of Light had not yet realized the lesson in her defeat. And though it vexed him, Nemesis could not control the expectant smile that rose in his lips. His fist unclenched, reaching out into the open air of the Adamant Palace and through distances beyond mortal ken. Along that course the chain spiralled to life, drawing Looloodi though odd angles and ribbons of fire until her cheek landed gently in the iron god’s palm.

"Goddess."

The smile on his timeless face broadened at the fire in her eyes.

"Welcome."

Spoiler: AP

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Free AP = 11
Free PAP = 1
Spent AP = 41

Domain Progress:
Craft (Metalworking) - 10/10 Complete
Life (Giants) - 10/10 Complete
Corruption (Ambition) - 10/10 Complete
Nobility (Sovereignty) - 10/10 Complete
Destruction (Reclamation) - 1/10

[GSisco]

Reaper-Of-Souls: The Ruins of Nasigune
Reaper-of Souls had a duality to his plan. His paladins and clerics had been sent out among the people to encourage the granting of power in exchange for service. His dungeon born however granted power to those who showed they deserve it. Only the strongest would survive with them. Now that he had blessed his dungeon born, it was time for him to do something for his servants.

That is how he found himself wandering through the ruins that had been the home of his lord in the first days. These, much like the servants of the great book, were bare and beaten down. There was nothing great to them. They had no true power of their own. He would fix that. So slowly, he got to work enchanting as many of the ruins as possible. Before long, the ruins began to glow brightly and Reaper-of-Souls found himself smiling before setting his sights toward the Caldera.

Where on earth were his tools?


Eats-Rocks-For-Power: The Caldera, Nazurbulb

Eats-Rocks-For-Power was still struggling to find a reason for the disappearance of his scouts. His earth golems had failed to bring any of them back. As it turns out they were not the most intelligent of creatures. They had successfully captured a number of creatures, sapient and otherwise for the experiments. Waiting on word from his scouts left him with only a few projects in the works.

First he had started on a new type of golem at the request of the goblins and orcs above. They wanted a water beast that could be sent against the seafolk. So there was a pond in the dungeon where his new creations were playing,
His main goal however was to expand upon his own power. He had liberated a small band of Halfling and Kobold slaves from the goblins and orcs in the Caldera. No one knew it was him of course, except the slaves themselves. Today he had had one of the Halflings pledge to his service in exchange for power. So Eats-Rocks-For-Power would test his new experiment on her. If she should survive, then she would have her power and he would have a new kind of servant.

Reaper-Of-Souls was so wasteful, not like Eats-Rocks-For-Power. He knew that having a race of soul stealers and blood drinkers would leave nothing but a corpse. Then those rotten caretakers would take them. The flesh would be wasted when it holds so much of the power. This was the point of his thoughts that was interrupted by the screams of the halfling woman in the ritual.

That was good. Screaming meant she was alive. She couldn’t have expected her dungeon lord to be as skilled as the art of this as the great lords Nasigune and Reaper-Of-Souls. It was always going to come with pain.

It was only once the screaming stopped that the dungeon lord even glanced over to see the progress. The change was obvious, even more so as one of his servants brought out a wolf body, drained of soul and blood already. She dove for it and began to feed wildly from the flesh and organs. Then she approached her lord and bowed. “I have sword myself to you and your cause but only now do I feel the true power that my patron has granted me.”

Spoiler: AP

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Starting AP: 7
Rollover: +5

Actions:
Bless: Ruins of Nasigune. The ruins and many of the surrounding ones are a hidden haven for those seeking shelter and protection. When someone needs a safe place, they are drawn to the ruins and will be protected and hidden away there. Impossible to find by anyone meaning to do them harm. -Power (Patronage)

Artifact Charge: Blood Chalice: Create Monstrous Subrace: Water Golems.

Create Mythic Subrace: Vampires-Flesh Eaters: This subrace of vampires feeds upon the flesh, brains and other organs of their prey. This gears most of their powers towards strengthening those aspects of their own bodies. Their brains grow in power. They become more immune to toxins and disease. -Power (Patronage)

Spent AP: 3
Remaining AP: 9

Pride (Redemption) 6/10
-Blood Drinkers 2 AP
-Blessing: Dungeon Bound 1 AP
-Organization: Dungeon Born 1 AP
-Minor Artifact: Cartographer's Quill: 2AP

Power (Patronage) 8/10
-Pact Magic 4 AP
-Ruins of Nasigune -1AP
-Church of Nasigune 1 AP
-Brain Vampires 2AP

[TheDarkDM]

Nemesis

Panopticon

The wail of Ouroboros’s passing rippled through the Adamant Palace, the fading hiss of numberless chains echoing down the endless halls of Nemesis’s great mountain. Flesh of his flesh, blood of his blood, Nemesis keenly felt the loss, rising from the depths of his workshops to attend the Adamant Orrery. With a thought, the jeweled and painted expanse opened before him, revealing the twining path to his son’s demesne. There was a gasp from Nemesis’s lips as he stepped out upon the great machine, the precision and perfection of its design filling his heart with unutterable pride. And in that pride, a matching grief. He passed the innumerable rings that had long gone still, proceeding to the heart of the Panopticon where the shell of Ouroboros lay curled around a gaping wound. Moss and rust rose from that pit like a cancer, and at the sight of it the grief in Nemesis’s heart was subsumed in righteous fury.

"Here? You dare encroach here!?"

The fire from his eye obliterated the offending rot, scouring the bare metal of all imperfections. Malevolence rippled from him in waves of suffocating heat, flooding the Necropolis and birthing a miasma of half-remembered ghosts.

"Harken well, vermin! This place is mine, now and evermore!"

The rings of Panopticon shuddered at Nemesis’s words, the silent mechanisms once more alive with divine will. The Lens of Legends and Lens of Fantasy circled into position bestride the breathing world, their crystalline surface growing sharp and clear as they pierced the veil to reveal the Fortress of Moss.

"You will suffer, and in suffering you will know the depths of your transgression."

THe corpse of Ouroboros spasmed in a facsimile of life, the outermost links of his endless chain breaking apart into jagged shards. The shadow of Nemesis’s hand fell over the razored field, and the living metal twisted to life. Hard edges bulged and liquefied into wings and taloned limbs, while cyclopean eyes slid open in serpentine heads. It was a swarm of new life, tied inexorably to the Panopticon and the furtherance of Ouroboros’s will. They took to the air with a chorus of piercing cries, scattering across the great machine. Nemesis watched their departure for a time, but soon returned his attention to his son’s shell.

"Your spirit may have faded, my son, but your purpose remains. Your memory will endure in sons of your own."

The endless chain coiled around Nemesis’s waiting arm, melting back into the flesh whence it had come. A red glow grew in his palm, and the iron god tensed in pain as new life slithered forth from the molten pool. It was not endless like its forebear, nor composed of pure divine steel - rather, the first of Ouroboros’ tenebrous children was a serpent true, black and polished scales stretching to terrible but conceivable size.

"Urulek, know thyself. My roads are yours."

Spoiler: AP

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Free AP = 11
Free PAP = 1
Spent AP = 41

1 PAP - Nemesis claims The Panopticon (Order Sphere)

3 AP (Lens of Legends) - Create Mythic Life, Ring Gargoyles (Destruction (Reclamation))

4 AP - Create Avatar, Urulek, the Serpent of the Roads (Destruction (Reclamation))

Domain Progress:
Craft (Metalworking) - 10/10 Complete
Life (Giants) - 10/10 Complete
Corruption (Ambition) - 10/10 Complete
Nobility (Sovereignty) - 10/10 Complete
Destruction (Reclamation) - 8/10

[RolandDeschain]

Selima - The Glimmering Sands

The Chromatic Fields of prismatic flowers shimmered and seemingly evaporated revealing itself to be a mirage. Miles of barren, glimmering ever-shifting sands stretch as far as the eye can see. Massive figures emerge from the dunes and approach Mamona and the lilim. These golden-skinned giants with flame-colored hair are garbed in loose white robes, brightly colored sirwals, and high-wrapped leather caligae. Each of them carry massive greatbows, the strings seemingly composed of pure light, and the golden hilts of their scimitars can be seen glinting over their shoulders. As the near, the all encompassing light of the Resplendent Realms is greatly amplified.

Stepping out from behind the figures, Selima lowers her head covering and smiles broadly as her auburn hair spills out. She covers the space between the two swiftly, wrapping the Queen of Excess in an embrace, "I'm so happy you've come."

As she steps back she notes the lilim shielding their eyes and squinting painfully, "Oh my. Let me help you." The Desert Maiden places a hand on each of their heads in turn, and they both lower their hands and wipe the tears from their eyes.

Having seen to the devils, she turns back to Mamona, "Come, let us retire someplace more comfortable." With the wave of her hand a shimmering mirage of a beautiful white city appears before the entourage and taking the other goddess's hand she steps into Zerzura.

Spoiler: AP Accounting

Show

Beginning AP = 4AP
Create Mythic Sub-Race(2AP) - Sun Giants: Taller, but leaner than their earthly cousins, sun giants have radiant golden skin, brown eyes, and long hair of varying shades of yellow, orange, and red. Sun giants generate a radiant aura that dazzles and blinds both evil beings or creatures of shadow/darkness; they can focus and concentrate their radiant aura to release a blast of radiant damage that fatigues and exhausts creatures within sixty feet. They prefer to utilize their sunbows at a distance, but up close are unnaturally deft with their golden scimitars. Sun giants are inherently immune to fire and heat.

Ending AP = 4AP -2AP = 2AP

[TheDarkDM]

Nemesis

Queia

The advance of Akkraul across the First Land had taken years. Many had been the nomad tribes that had fought against their annihilation, banding together in federations undreamed of by their forefathers, marshalling first hundreds, then thousands, then tens of thousands against their implacable doom. At first the war bands had been turned away, the Giants yet unaccustomed to this strange and meager land, but respite never lasted more than a season. The destroyers always returned, accompanied as time passed by new and terrible weapons. Rolling bows too large even for Gaints to lift, capable of piercing a dozen warriors. Stone throwers that rained fiery hail over walls and into hidden fastnesses. Nothing built of wood or unmortared stone could long endure, through the gaps poured the newest nightmare from the Wounded Mountain.

They could have been goblins - unbeknownst to all, they once were. But passage through the Iron Road had changed them, twisting them in the image of the Iron God. They had grown, nearly doubling in height, though their hunched posture belied their stature. Bands of ropy muscle were barely contained beneath ash-grey skin, bristling not with hair but with thin and needled barbs. Fangs and claws of black bone were their only weapons, and though some cunning yet remained in their crimson eyes it warred always with bestial madness. The Giants used them as if their lives were beneath consideration, sending hundreds to fall against shield wall and arrow barrage, only to strike the smallest opening in a battle line with the unrelenting fury of their iron core.

The Silvesay were the last to fall to this onslaught, and when they broke they fled farther and faster than any tribe before, bleeding prizes enough to satisfy a dozen raiding parties in slaves and booty. The war with Queia was the annihilation of the last of the great Tribes, and even as the Giants beheld their death throes from afar they marveled at the craft of the halfling empire. Here, at last, was a people worthy of greater consideration than degradation and defeat. For the gospel of Nemesis was one of conquest, not wanton barbarism. So it was that on the first day of a burning summer, a spear twenty-feet long landed in the dirt before the first of the Queian strongholds. A white flag fluttered from its quivering haft, and as the minutes passed its owner emerged from the horizon. She towered above all who saw her, as was the wont of Giants, her stature only strengthened by the great crest rising from her helm. The silken threads beneath her steel panoply were deep green mixed with slate grey, and the eyes that examined the waiting sentries burned golden in the sunlight.

”Soldiers of Queia, rejoice! You are the first chosen to receive the Word of Akkraul. Know me as Geshtina, chosen Champion of the House of Arkesh. By the grace of Nemesis, Lord of Creation, we are granted supremacy over this land. Rivers of blood have flowed in our wake, and rivers of flesh have ferried the blind and the ignorant to merciful enlightenment. But in your people we have found the first thing worth preserving. I would speak to your lord, to discuss the terms of your surrender!”

Spoiler: AP

Show

Free AP = 4
Free PAP = 0
Spent AP = 48

1 AP - Create Subrace, Ashling Goblins (Earth (Metal))

1 AP - Create Organization (House Arkesh) (Tyranny (Imperialism))

2 AP - Create Advanced Concept (Siege Weapons) (Destruction (Reclamation))

Domain Progress:
Craft (Metalworking) - 10/10 Complete
Life (Giants) - 10/10 Complete
Corruption (Ambition) - 10/10 Complete
Nobility (Sovereignty) - 10/10 Complete
Destruction (Reclamation) - 10/10 Complete
Earth (Metal) - 1/10
Tyranny (Imperialism) - 1/10

[GSisco]

Eats-Rocks-For-Power: The Narzulbur Dungeon

Skeletons cluttered the floor of the dungeon. Stripped of soul, blood and flesh, all that remained were the skeletons. They were starting to pile up. Many were just of animals and monsters but those seemed to pile up all the faster. Eats-Rocks-For-Power began to wonder if perhaps his plan to waste nothing of the corpse had not been properly thought out. Stuck, with nothing to do, he pondered the problem.

Finally he decided to just take a Kobold and test a new ritual. As that Kobold screamed, the dungeon Lord decided to go for a walk around the surface. There seemed to be quite a commotion.

Reaper-Of-Souls: Narzulbur

Reaper-Of-Souls had decided to visit his allies and brought his church along with him. They arrived to find the great goblin city in a state of panic. It had been too long since they had last seen their lord. His priests went forth to calm the citizens and gather what knowledge they could as he approached the dungeon.

He was stopped in his tracks as he spotted the local dungeon lord emerging from the dungeon. "Eater of Rocks. Where have my tools been?"

The cowardly goblin made vampire bowed with a shriek before presenting the quill and chalice. "I am sorry my lord, none of my scouts have yet returned from their journeys outside the Caldera."

"We shall discuss this later. Come with me."

The two of them made their way to the base of the great pyramid Janika had built for his races. The goblins and orcs through the capitol gathered around as they came to recognize Reaper-Of-Souls, the Bearer of the book. Once all were in place and all was silent, Reaper-Of-Souls began to speak.

"I know not what has happened to your lord Janika. What I do know is that your lord and mine had been allies. My lord has long since disappeared from this land. We have worked to spread out and find her. If you aid us and join in the search, we shall do the same for Lord Janika. The gods are being banished from the land but I can still feel my lord within me. I know that we will find the great book and with your aid, I know we will find Janika."

He paused there for the support that was shown. "Who is your leader?" An orc stepped forward and beat his chest, announcing himself as Kills-With-A-Grin. "I cannot lead the search and my church alone. I need a leader for both. I need someone who will never fail or falter in their duties. You will be entrusted with leading the church and picking your successor. Should you swear yourself to me and the cause I will give you power and make you into something more. You shall be the Neverfail." The avatar then held out a ring and presented it to the orc, who placed it on his finger before being infused with power.

Reaper-Of-Souls then turned back to the masses. "Now, we have a head to the church to serve as my right hand. Alas, my dungeon lords lack a true leader. In celebration, we shall hold a tournament. The winner of this tournament shall recieve this." He held out another ring. "They shall serve as my left hand and rule be entrusted with leading and organizing our dungeon,lords so that we can grow stronger in Janika's absence. They shall be the dungeon Emperor." That got them truly excited. As the proclimation was made, he felt power such through him again. He must be obeying his Lord's will.

Spoiler: AP

Show

Starting AP: 7
Rollover: +5

Actions:
Hero: Neverfail The leader of the church of Nasigune. This title is passed down. More details later. -Power (Patronage)

Hero: Dungeon Emperor- The leader of the Dungeon Born. This title is passed down. More details later. -Pride (Redemption)

Create Mythic Subrace: Vampires-Bone Crunchers- Description Shortly. -Pride (Redemption)

Spent AP: 3
Remaining AP: 9

Pride (Redemption) 10/10 Gained
-Blood Drinkers 2 AP
-Bone Crunchers 2 AP
-Blessing: Dungeon Bound 1 AP
-Organization: Dungeon Born 1 AP
-Minor Artifact: Cartographer's Quill: 2AP
-Create Hero: Dungeon Emperor

Power (Patronage) 10/10 Gained
-Pact Magic 4 AP
-Ruins of Nasigune -1AP
-Church of Nasigune 1 AP
-Brain Vampires 2AP
-Create Hero: The Never fail 2AP

Sorry kind of rushed. Will finish fluff later.

[Tychris1]

The Iron Road

Pondering the proposition for the briefest of moments, the continental fanged monster growled in agreement, and begin to twist and grind against the vast catacomb of its home. Squirming about the molten passageway, the obsidian oligarch slowly dragged its razor sharp nails against bedrock, and elicited a high pitched irritating sound. "Let us both don more ignoble forms and approach these lost fleshlings. Whoever can persuade them to convert without revealing their true nature shall be the winner." She ground her long skull chin first alongside the Waxen Witch, ear holes cavernously agape and searching for response.

The Ziggurat

Pleased by Mamona's display Enkidan began a fit of lecherous chortling. The great rotund royalty continuously jiggled as its gelatinous guffaws turned into wheezing hacking debauchery. The creatures indecent display was climaxed by the sudden buoying of its resplendent Palanquin from beneath the hot bubbling waters of this unnatural sauna crafted into the side of the massive onyx construct. Hitting its head against the Palanquin, Enkidan promptly passed out into a deep slumber, and left the Queen of Gold to use the magical artifact to restore order to the Citadel. For months did Enkidan sleep, seemingly endless epoch's passed within its dull subconscious mind, and the creatures unconscious body continued the revolting process of sleep walking and eating when prompted by the lilim attendants all around the Ziggurat. The drooling creatures internal eons were filled with restless nightmares, nonsensical dreams, and lewdly degenerate schemes. In each of them Enkidan felt itself fall deeper and deeper into slumber, its minds eye growing ever more detached from caring about even its own internal landscape, and rapidly detaching therein. Laziness infinitely compouded the creature began to passively observe its own minds mayhem at work until after the fiftieth cycle Enkidan realized it had splintered its consciousness in half. Swiveling its predominate conscious around the Duke of Sludge looked upon hundreds of dreams, nightmares, and more playing out before it. Each one a sliver of the gods rotten bubbling mind, drifted off from lack of attendance, and grown into its own independent thought or reality. Drifting through his strange dreamy cosmos Enkidan floated listlessly by scenes of war, poverty, incest, disease, and worse all featuring the god itself and others it had knew in life.

Staring at these swirling galaxies of nascent mind matter Enkidan saw faces and peoples in them that the Deity never knew before. Strange yet alluring flower women, a moldy rock, an impregnable construct, and yet more stranger things. A few roots began tangled in the corners of Enkidan's mind as it was casually watching events transpire on Chalice and came to the simple realization that not all of these motes of reality were Enkidan's dreams some of these were planes onto themselves. Some of the strange scenes had small strands of white connecting them to others, routes between the world it surmised after trying to eat one and failing, and Enkidan gazed upon the two connected spheres of the Panopticon and the Adamant Palace. Seeing its brother within the Panopticon Enkidan shoved its head experimentally into the Adamant Palace before spontaneously apparating in an ethereal form within the plane. None of the giants around seemed any the wiser save the blurry outline of one particularly holy ogre dozing off in its seat. The faint visage of its own illusory form looked up from its physical body at his revolting progenitor and in so clear a distinction between its mental state and physical state snapped out of its slumber violently and in a shock. Shrugging the gluttonous god turned around and floated out the way it came. In its brief sojourn in experimentation Enkidan attempted to ponder on its children and saw brief glimpses of their situations. Derian Ka dealt with some form of white smudge and Ednaki continued its brutal rampage and genocidal hunting of the savage orcs. Enkidan wished so deeply for someone to bear witness to its glorious achievement and discovery. So as to properly be thanked for it and heaped praises but also to impart the knowledge and have others perform this dizzying and confusing mental desynchronization. The Progenitor's Palanquin, always more than willing to oblige its masters wishes, and gifted with the spark of divine rigidness inherent in all things Nemesis forges it acts without heed for direct conscious thought or situation.

It was then in such fortuitous and serendipitous timing that Enkidan's brief slumber was cut short by Mamona's violent returning of the Palanquin. Enkidan opened its stolen eyes long enough to see the shadow of the Palanquin descending and then ripping right through its tar black pus boil of a head. Splattering against the grounds of the Ziggurat Enkidan flopped blindly about for a few seconds as its head slowly burbled back to its proper shape, and looked upwards at the path carved by the Palanquin's descent into the Ziggurat. A long stream of clear perfect water lazily flowed down from on high bridging the two planes together in the calmest and most lackadaisical waterfall in all reality. The water neatly flowed down to the tip of the ziggurat, dispersing throughout its many hundred grooves and eddies, and occasionally became flush with delicious wine. So enraptured was Enkidan by the display that it didn't even notice the immense white dragon slumbering behind it, with antler like horns, and beautiful gleaming silver eyes and spines.

Spoiler: AP Expenditure

Show

Starting Rollover AP 15
1 PAP

2 AP Create Bridge (Chalice/Ziggurat): "The Falls"

10/10 AP Sloth (Dragons) Domain

4 AP Create Mythical Concept: Oneiromancy

3 AP (Palanquin Charge) Create Avatar: Dankiren the Lost

0 AP Curse (Crown Charge): Those who do not pray to Enkidan before they rest find themselves with bad sleep, crusty eyes, and very odd dreams or vivid nightmares.

7/10 AP Sloth (Magic)

6 AP Remaining
1 PAP Remaining

[bc56]

SUMMUS - A NEW MISSION

"Summus, I have a new mission for you." "AFFIRMATIVE, SIR." The exchange isn't something you can hear, unless you know exactly how to tune into the divine communications frequencies used. "Tell the dwarves to go down to my lab and open the valves on experiments 39B through 40A to a half turn. They can do whatever they like with the byproducts. Then you're needed at the tower to take command of the machines." Summus relayed the message to the dwarves and then set off to the place which had been prepared for it in Turrim Autem.
The dwarves prepared a small party, twelve in all, plus a halfling they encountered along the way, and descended into the Tenebral Laboratories. They found the experiments and opened the valves, and a funny-smelling invisible gas leaked out. It burst into flame when exposed to their torches producing a rain of water, and when they bottled it for study, they made a shocking discovery. Bottles filled with the strange gas weighed less than those which were empty. The dwarves didn't take long to spread news of their discovery, and soon brightly colored balloons were hanging in the sky above the cities of the Scholars of Stone. Of course, however, it was their next invention which would truly change the world...

Spoiler: AP accounting

Show

Start: 2/24.
Rollover: +6.

Create Advanced Concept: Hydrogen Flight (Artifact charge) [??? 1/10]
As a byproduct, one of Tenebreon's experiments produces hydrogen. You know the stuff: lighter than air gas, highly inflammable, makes water when burned, etc etc. With the right fabrics, it can be used to make balloons and other objects which float above the ground without effort.

Create Organization: The Balloonists' League [??? 2/10]
A group of Dwarves and Halflings found the Balloonists' League. They work with hydrogen balloons, putting on performances and artistry with them, and testing the limits of what can be done with this new technology.

Teach Advanced Concept: Hydrogen Flight to the Scholars of Stone [??? 3/10]

End: 5/24.

[Nefarion Xid]

Selima & Mamona
The Glimmering Sands

"That is an inventive security measure. It's only ever evening or night in Chalice. That's a bit bright even for me, darling." Mamona dabbed at her eyes a moment before reaching to her amulet and plucking from the magic within a pair of gold framed spectacles with smoky quartz lenses. Despite Selima's blessing, a pair went to each lilim as well. Both chatted quietly about the new and practical fashion accessory their queen had just invented. Mamona meanwhile walked arm in rather lecherous arm with her friend.

"I wished to convey my sympathies in person, to you and Looloodi both. First Tafeita, and now Janika, succumbed to acedia." Ironic. The god of sloth was doing so well for himself.

"I should have come sooner, but I had been so busy preserving the sanctity and function of the afterlife," she lied. The whole process had been a breeze thanks to a few formerly obscure contractual obligations no one ever thought would need to be enacted. Really, Balepheron had done all the work. Plus no one cared. Nothing had really changed except for the small "convenience fee" attached to soul transfers.

"I thought you could use a friend!"

Spoiler: Dwarven Accounting

Show

0 AP Bless (Artifact Charge)
Dwarves - The dwarves are rewarded with visions of Mamona and the vast material wealth of Chalice. She becomes their muse and they are driven to excel in the craft of beautiful and precious things. They will become peerless goldsmiths and gem cutters.

[Tychris1]

Down in the mortal lands, in the glorious civilized land of Akkraul, a method began to spread. This mental weed was a useful tool, the magic of the mind rendered base, and one incited by Enkidan’s tamperings with the subconscious of the divine. Its dark murky influence spread throughout the dreams of mortals everywhere, haunting the corners of their minds during daytime dozes, and in bright vivid colors displaying a powerful white dragon. This stranger visited the dreams of others to impart messages and warnings, it whispered dark secrets, and inspired within the Giants a study of Oneiromancy. Ogres and Trolls took particular interest and aptitude to the art for they were fit to slumber and lose track of their minds naturally. How gifted they were by their progenitors.

The Giants of the land however had a slightly more difficult time of it, though as with all things they took to it with a dedicated regimen, and began the process of battlefield application. More than simply soothsaying or mentally projecting oneself through the minds eye for reconnaissance the Giants weaved powerful spells for enchanting areas with defensive dreams and glorious aspirations that lingered in the material near where the practitioners slumbered. They were aided by a mysterious plant that festered within the outskirts of Karam-Kor, nurtured by the black blood of Enkidan carelessly spilled on plant life prior, and given new purpose under the Giants thoughtful tutelage. Burning the plant, which the Giants referred sacredly to as “The Herb”, and succumbing to its vapors placed the Giants in a malleable enough mental state that they more closely resembled their patron magical deity in mindset and consumption habits. They harvested this material and used it for ritual practice as reverentially and seriously as gold.

Spoiler: AP Expenditure

Show

1 PAP Create Organization (Smoke Walkers) Order Sphere: The Giants of Akkraul have taken to Oneiromancy fervently and have created a seperate caste of spellcasting practicioners divided amongst all the titanic races to harvest the Herb and use Enkidan’s magic to propel Giant society.

1 AP Create Mundane Concept The Herb: A simple hardy plant that reeks and glistens like its progenitor Enkidan. Giants have found many ways to imbibe it creatively but their most predominant and preferred method is to burn it in great braziers or pipes and inhale as such. May induce slumber, hunger, memory loss, and madness.

5 AP Remaining
0 PAP Remaining

5/10 Order Sphere
8/10 Sloth (Magic)

[mystic1110]

Spoiler: Previously

Show

The Iron Road[/B]

Pondering the proposition for the briefest of moments, the continental fanged monster growled in agreement, and begin to twist and grind against the vast catacomb of its home. Squirming about the molten passageway, the obsidian oligarch slowly dragged its razor sharp nails against bedrock, and elicited a high pitched irritating sound. "Let us both don more ignoble forms and approach these lost fleshlings. Whoever can persuade them to convert without revealing their true nature shall be the winner." She ground her long skull chin first alongside the Waxen Witch, ear holes cavernously agape and searching for response.

The Trial of the Road

The Witch smiled at and whispered into its ear, although such whisper into such a large ear was probably a tumultuous shout. She said:

Sounds like a fine game. And what form shall I take? What about . . . what about a fish?

And the white perfect goddess contorts, shrinks into a strange form. She looked now like a hagfish — a sinuous, tubular animal with pink-grey skin and a paddle-shaped tail. Her perfect white dress and her trail of perfect silk now gross tough skin and a trail of slime. She almost now looked like an eel, but not quite, her transformation left her with no jaw or any other bones to speak off.

The Witch in her new form spoke:

How ignoble is this form, and with . . brrlplop . . . it I shall take the first move of speaking with our mortal visitors my . . brrlplop . . .friend.

Her newly formed slime catching her lipless mouth as she spoke, causing bubbles to form. And thus, from the dragon she swam up the Iron Road until she spied Laughs-Without-Mirth and his companions. She swam over to them, and how shocked they must have been to see, not just a flying fish, but a flying fish upon the molten road. Clearly this was no mere fish, but . . .

And the fish spoke to the mortals, pleadingly.

Ah, well met upon the . . brrlplop . . . road! May I trouble you for some help? You see, I have been cursed by a cruel goddess . . brrlplop . . . and I cannot break the curse. May I rely on your . . brrlplop . . . help to set me free?

[neriractor]

Daghir* and Janika Caldera

Daghir's experience with enthropy came mostly offhand, from the way it permeated the world and the Lord's (some of them anyways) eternal fight against it. Then he found Many-as-one, in a home all could call their own, where those he did call that way resided, inert and dull-lighted, and soon would meet something perhaps closer still, but such things are not here.

Here was Daghir, a Detritus golem of adulatory tendencies, birthed once again for Janika. Unlike Daghir proper he was birthed with sincere care, and he rose to the purpose given, instead of plainly being it; so when Janika dissapeared he didn't destroy all in hand on a fit of emotion, he didn't even ponder the meaning of it all, perhaps falling into enthropy himself, he just worked as he did.

For the awe she inspired in the goblins with her stillness was appropiately awesome! and the way she lacked breath or life so others could have it was enormously altruistic! and that new sickly green that usually accompanied the death was at both times appropiate and not!

and soon he fell silent, when Janika's corpse was eaten by the ground, and finally, whatever the golem was showed once again he was not merely Daghir, for he wept the lost of purpose like he couldn't cry about the death of all meaning to it.

And with this careless of meaning he cared not for a name in hs solitude, still, the goblins would come to call him herald, for he had killed a godess (in their eyes) and death was alway implicit when it came to greenskins...

Queia, rejoice?

Spoiler: Previously

Show

Nemesis

Queia

The advance of Akkraul across the First Land had taken years. Many had been the nomad tribes that had fought against their annihilation, banding together in federations undreamed of by their forefathers, marshalling first hundreds, then thousands, then tens of thousands against their implacable doom. At first the war bands had been turned away, the Giants yet unaccustomed to this strange and meager land, but respite never lasted more than a season. The destroyers always returned, accompanied as time passed by new and terrible weapons. Rolling bows too large even for Gaints to lift, capable of piercing a dozen warriors. Stone throwers that rained fiery hail over walls and into hidden fastnesses. Nothing built of wood or unmortared stone could long endure, through the gaps poured the newest nightmare from the Wounded Mountain.

They could have been goblins - unbeknownst to all, they once were. But passage through the Iron Road had changed them, twisting them in the image of the Iron God. They had grown, nearly doubling in height, though their hunched posture belied their stature. Bands of ropy muscle were barely contained beneath ash-grey skin, bristling not with hair but with thin and needled barbs. Fangs and claws of black bone were their only weapons, and though some cunning yet remained in their crimson eyes it warred always with bestial madness. The Giants used them as if their lives were beneath consideration, sending hundreds to fall against shield wall and arrow barrage, only to strike the smallest opening in a battle line with the unrelenting fury of their iron core.

The Silvesay were the last to fall to this onslaught, and when they broke they fled farther and faster than any tribe before, bleeding prizes enough to satisfy a dozen raiding parties in slaves and booty. The war with Queia was the annihilation of the last of the great Tribes, and even as the Giants beheld their death throes from afar they marveled at the craft of the halfling empire. Here, at last, was a people worthy of greater consideration than degradation and defeat. For the gospel of Nemesis was one of conquest, not wanton barbarism. So it was that on the first day of a burning summer, a spear twenty-feet long landed in the dirt before the first of the Queian strongholds. A white flag fluttered from its quivering haft, and as the minutes passed its owner emerged from the horizon. She towered above all who saw her, as was the wont of Giants, her stature only strengthened by the great crest rising from her helm. The silken threads beneath her steel panoply were deep green mixed with slate grey, and the eyes that examined the waiting sentries burned golden in the sunlight.

”Soldiers of Queia, rejoice! You are the first chosen to receive the Word of Akkraul. Know me as Geshtina, chosen Champion of the House of Arkesh. By the grace of Nemesis, Lord of Creation, we are granted supremacy over this land. Rivers of blood have flowed in our wake, and rivers of flesh have ferried the blind and the ignorant to merciful enlightenment. But in your people we have found the first thing worth preserving. I would speak to your lord, to discuss the terms of your surrender!”

Spoiler: AP

Show

Free AP = 4
Free PAP = 0
Spent AP = 48

1 AP - Create Subrace, Ashling Goblins (Earth (Metal))

1 AP - Create Organization (House Arkesh) (Tyranny (Imperialism))

2 AP - Create Advanced Concept (Siege Weapons) (Destruction (Reclamation))

Domain Progress:
Craft (Metalworking) - 10/10 Complete
Life (Giants) - 10/10 Complete
Corruption (Ambition) - 10/10 Complete
Nobility (Sovereignty) - 10/10 Complete
Destruction (Reclamation) - 10/10 Complete
Earth (Metal) - 1/10
Tyranny (Imperialism) - 1/10

The first spear was almost met with returned fire and harrying wings from the peaks, truce in the first land (scarce as it was) was signalled by released prisoners, weak and frail often, little more than messages for their previous owners, the greenskins usually attacked serf tribes for this purpose, for the Queia warriors wouldn't suffer capture, and were quite good at escaping, then leading warbands back.

Yet it wasn't, for legends travelled, and the Queia's sphere meant that their gods of fire were in the eyes of the tribes not only real but walking the earth, and hushed whispers and trepidation were all the fortress would throw for now. Only increased by the voice of the giantess before them, that spoke foreign names and ultimatums. Yet again the warriors almost fought for that's what they knew, and no Queia god gave only mercy. But an evoy soon arived at the ramparts, the one who watched in silence from afar or used to, Ekko.

With scarce action he broke the lull, reminding everyone of their proper positions, the monarch was asked for by godly kin, and they were not to interfere. An envoy was sent, may be a while to the capital, and even more for the sovereign to decide if it'll come.

on the first day, our ex-serf warrior delivered a message, calmly for the situation, and in the respectful gestures and bows he likely used all too frequently "Please wait".

In the following day food and water was brought as if to a particularly wealthy visitor and his retinue, war posponed for now...

Spoiler: AP expenditure

Show

16/16 AP left

- 4 AP create avatar (Herald): a wind based golem made in the likeness of Daghir and with size to match the Neverfail, he was created to communicate with her (in a very one sided manner, to be safe) while Daghir inspected the pleas of his followers and the value of their research. The death of Janika affected him in no small way, sundering the connection between him and Daghir to the point where he is not aware it has even happened, and herald himself for now just deals with his new orphan status the usual way, terrifying goblins away from their capital with his mere presence. [Resolution (Conflict) 9/10]

- 1 AP teach concept siege weapons- the queia): [Resolution (Conflict) 10/10]

- 0 AP blessing (artifact charge), Bountiful maze: the metal within the windy maze's mountains is of the most exceptional quality and valuable stones are minerals are almost commodities.

-2 create hero (Ekko): fluff to be filled [Society (protection) 7/10] (place holder name)

Resoultion (conflict):
-2 AP curse (counter curse the iron roads)
-3 AP Create sub-race (echoes-> Gennies)
- 4 AP create avatar (Herald)
- 1 AP teach concept (siege weapons-the queia)
- 10 AP, Conflict (resolution) obtained!
Daghir ascends to lesser deity!

11/16 AP left

@DarkDM: you can respond to this one if you want, but if not I'll get around to the nameless monarch and proper negotiation soon enough.

[RolandDeschain]

Kapet - Catan, The Faith Hall

A single chime rang through the soaring cathedral and Mater Ne'iu hustled to the main alter. Dutifully lifting the marble lid of the Beneficent Reliquary, she reached a hand into the pool of golden light and extracted a platinum sabre.

Spoiler

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Beginning AP = 2AP + 6AP +1PAP(rollover)
Create Minor Combat Artifact(1AP + 1PAP + Artifact Discount): Sabre of Brilliant Energy - Seemingly composed of pure holy light, this sabre grants it's owner the ability to inspire and rally the morale of troops; breaking enchantments, granting immunity to fear, and inspiring acts of courage/heroism in those that can see and hear the wielder of the sabre.

Remaining AP = 7AP

[Nefarion Xid]

Chalice/Ziggurat

Of all true devils, dreaming Cholmim are the only caste to inspire pity in mortals. Created for the singular purpose of exploiting Oneiromancy on an industrial scale, Dreamer devils are cursed with eternal sleep. Entire halls of Mamona's palace and the Ziggurat house hundreds of Cholmim in sinfully luxuriant beds. They rise only for an hour every day in a somnambulatory state to wash and take a meal in silence. They communicate with the aid of the Zophim, who seem to be the only ones capable of deciphering their disjointed whispers. Petitioner souls from Citadel are given preferential treatment if they chose to incarnate as Dreamer devils. A century of service guarantees promotion to one of the more desirable castes.

Sloth Devils resemble Zophim the most, though they are often not just slender but gaunt. It is common to mistake one for the other. The key difference is that Observer devils are not asleep, but merely ignoring you. Dreamers also have pure white eyes, lacking irises and pupils, if you were rude enough to pry their eyelids open.

Individually, Cholmim are feeble and incapable of defending themselves. When their dream magic is coordinated and focused, the results are devastating. Taken as a collective, they are the greatest defensive force in the lower planes, capable of warding areas the size of cities and directing surgical strikes by War Devils.

At the moment, their predictive efforts have been directed towards the systematic and quiet extermination of the Lichen.

Spoiler: Accounting

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-1 AP + Artifact Charge
Create Mythic Subrace: Cholim (Sloth Devils)
Described above. AP attributed for the Wrath domain.

New avatar and minor artifact tomorrow! Too sleepy now.

7 AP left.

[Tychris1]

Ziggurat

Between snacking slaughter and the crusty blurred visions of surreal reality Enkidan slowly noticed the increase of Devils in their realm. Many of them were just laying around sleeping. Some of them awoke briefly to perform mundane self maintenance and yet more would go about the process through attendants or nurse-maids assigned to these sleep wards. They struggled to fully come to grip with Enkidan’s magic, the natural slumbering witchcraft it had accidentally stumbled upon, and the Old God decided to do something about it.

It curled up in its Palanquin with two fistfuls of Cholmim and slumbered together in a massive pit.

Spoiler: Accounting

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3 AP Teach Mythic Concept (Oneiromancy) to Cholmim.

10/10 Sloth (Magic) Domain!

Enkidan ascends to Intermediate Deity

2 AP remaining