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

[Nefarion Xid]

"You mean to have dominion over her?" Mamona scowled and her eyes burned with defiance, but she dared not deny the fierce king his prize. "She is yours to take, though I would enjoy her much more unbound. What of this? You can have her, yes, but then you will never have me."

Her smile was almost coy. "I give willingly, eagerly. She would resent you, always. You cannot have us both."

[TheDarkDM]

Nemesis

His brow quirking at Mamona's ultimatum, Nemesis met her smile with one of his own.

"What you would give, dear sister, is far more than I desire of her. She has wronged me - wounded me - and I will have recompense. But do not imagine her your rival in her servitude."

He turned his smile, in all its terrible weight, to Looloodi.

"For all that she will be mine, she will remain yours to entice at your leisure. There is little virtue to a vassal lacking in their own will. Freedom makes their surrender all the sweeter."

[GSisco]

Nasigune in the Ruins with Janika

Reaper-Of-Souls fought his hardest but he was no match for the intruder. Nasigune began to lose patience. "If you cannot handle one intruder, then perhaps I have made a mistake."

Catching his breath, Reaper-Of-Souls began to realize who he was fighting. He dropped to a kneed and bowed before his creator. "Great Mother-Of-Goblins. Forgive me. I have been made new and must defend my new master.

"You treat this intruder with more respect than even I. Who is this person?"

[neriractor]

Daghir, and the sisters

Marah, Selima, Janika the neverfail, Nasigune.

A calm and somber wind raced in contrast behind the mightiest of waves, the chaos of the world seemingly not affecting it as what was likely the calmest breeze that had touched the constant storm that was the first land.

Then tempest broke out at his destination, the first speaker was there and he was nowhere near ready. His first conversation was a bust, one of his partners on a warpath and the other splattering the sky with distant cinders, he hid behind the wave and observed, his archons did not.

Drop they did, far from their master's attention and they approached the being they had been thought to study more than anyone else. With glistering colors they inclined their humanoid forms and uttered with a spine that their god currently (and always if you want to get technical) lacked "Words... To speak... Sound break through this listless silence!... Who got the inflections better, first speaker?" they asked, expectant of the godess who knew them not.

[LordArgon]

Tenebreon and the God of Flesh

Tenebreon is rather taken aback. This entity is clearly a fellow god, but whereas the Fortress of Moss had been reasonable, this one is clearly not so much. "Help? What... No! That's disgusting!" Tenebreon pokes at one of the wraiths. "Are these things meant to steal souls? What are you doing?"

"I am not stealing the souls, I am protecting them from those carrion crows that seem to delight in eating the souls of the freshly dead. Thankfully, it seems as if they have left for the time being. Now for your second question, I am creating a new body, one of flesh and blood, to interact with the world. Too long have I watched the others with their tangible bodies and physical creations. Too long have my works been treated as not being there, just because they are made of nothingness. Soon all will tremble before my new creation, and all will see my genius. All the God's will go "Oh Sololond, join my pantheon" "No join my pantheon, we need a strong, smart god like you". Now all of you will see my godly might. So floating cloak creature, will you play a part in the greatest creation in history, or will you tremble it the shadow of greatness?"

[mystic1110]

A Primer in Astrology

In the moment when Ilianthos closed its petals and turned off its light, when the God of Glares closed his eyes, the dawn fly went to sleep, when the torpid clouds and their dangling forests parted with soft squelches and the mortals took a rest from the encroaching moss they looked up to the sky and saw stars for the first time.

They were like jewels scattered by an angry lover in the void, like milk spilled by a petulant slave, like flower blossoms among the storm - in short, not only did mortals look up and know instinctively that there was someone, somewhere, that was looking out for them, they looked up and saw patterns. For the stars were like fertile soil for the artists, vivid inspiration for oracles, and for a secret code for lovers.

Of course, each society would interpret each sign differently. Of course, the signs themselves were different in Catan as they were for the Mer as they were for the Giants. But generally, a sort of consensus settled through cultural diffusion or chance (or perhaps Eniym simply decided that it should be so for some mercurial reason or another).

To practice astrology is to say which signs were visible at the place of birth. Clouds, Storm, and Light, mostly obscured all but one or two. But it's also to say how visible each sign was and what was the relation of each sign to which. In general, though let's go over the main signs - the sign that was the most visible in the sky upon birth - and their straight forward meanings.

The bone (although some cultures describe it as the club, or sword or spear, either way being three or sometimes seven stars in a long line) means strength, grudge-bearing, and courage. It is hard to tell when this sign means that a person would grow to become a bully or someone to defy destiny and protect others. The sign in either interpretation meant hardship - although it was hard to tell whether it was a hardship that one sought through ambition or hardship that one would diligently suffer through.

The fortress (oddly enough it was the same in each culture - a small cluster of five stars that if one could imagine a parapet one could barely see it) means Aloofness, hard-working, and intelligent. A coveted sign, however those born underneath it were said to be arrogant and obsessive. Many craftsmen and collecters were born underneath this sign.

The stone (also one of those symbols that were the same in each culture - it was three stars in a line all close together. It was easy to tell it apart from the bone) means: to be dreamy and mysterious. Some would call those born underneath unreliable or artists. Most future oracles were strangely born underneath this sign and it would be considered the cardinal sign.

The empty circle (although some cultures describe it as the square or octagon, either way, it is a simple shape of three or even ten starts that leaves a gaping window into the void between) means nothing - this sign was a cipher. Those born underneath it would be forced to rely on other methods to predict their lives - for example the elements (it was one thing to be born underneath the circle under spore, fire, water or lightning, as those elements helped point to other signs or lessen the effects of the circle, but being born under the circle and earth would be an ill omen as many sociopathic killers were born under those conditions).

The flower (although some cultures called it the angel, and others even called it the goddess (some darker ones called it the slave and others still called it the Mistress), was a loose configuration of twenty stars that could appear to look like a rose bloom) means: luxury-loving, sensitive, charismatic as well as family-minded. Those born underneath this sign were said to love beauty, but it was always a danger that one might love beauty too much.

The rat (with some cultures using the name of any small four-legged animal (some even calling it the insect) - the goblins even calling it the kobold and giants have been known to refer to it as almost any four-legged creature - sometimes different creatures in the same story, is a line made of four stars with four stars in random lengths and angles below it) means: survival, in all cultures - strangely the animal in question was always a prey animal, usually even a main food source, but the idea that the prey was always there year after year, always surviving despite the hunt meant those born underneath this sign would be said to have lucky lives. Another characteristic is that those born underneath may be dreamers or idealistic.

The fire ( this symbol is always known as some type of fire either the volcano or the hearth, the fire from the clouds or even a campfire. Some cultures call it the torch. It is a field of twelve stars that are arranged in a diagonal ladder): is a complex symbol - it could mean the fire of the home or the fire of war and the earth. All types of warriors - brawlers, soldiers, tyrants - were all born underneath this sign.

The Book (as it would come to be known, but most cultures called it something else entirely - some called it the fangs or even the Contract. Some at the time didn't even know what it was supposed to be so called it the window. It was a field of ten stars, four stars forming a square and the other stars in neat rows in between) means wisdom, reliable and fair. This was the sign of justice and scales, those born underneath it being said to be trustworthy people

The Spiral (sometimes called the storm or the whirlpool by the Mer, this was what it was clearly, a spiral of eight stars) means impulsive, tactless, dynamic. Those born underneath being untrustworthy and mercurial - almost mad. However, this sign had the other characteristic of being the sign of communication and language - almost as if madness and speaking were related. Many singers and politicians would be born under this sign (and what does that say about their mental health?)

There are other signs, but those are some of the main ones, and all we have time to discuss for today. The general science and art of astrology, however, were more complex (since Eniym was the goddess of relationships not meant, if she did have a hand in it she made it needlessly complex).

For example, depending on the visible sign an astrologer would even need to know what the storms were doing at the time - what element they rained down (the classical five elements of course: Earth, Fire, Lightning, Water, and Spores).

Earth weather meant that the sign was more stable, Fire meant that it was more mutable, Lighting meant that the main sign should be shared with the associations of the sign that the lighting pointed to, Water means that the sign was more gentle in its power over the person and Spores meant that the sign could evolve into another sign later in life.

There was, of course, the torpidity of the various storms to consider. The slower the storm the more the element mattered, for example, a quick shower of fire only meant a small mutability, while a curtain of aerial magma meant that the person would oscillate between their star sign's characteristics almost four times a day.

And it only gets more complex from here. But that will all be covered in advanced astrology next semester.

Spoiler: AP Bookkeeping

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9 AP
Create Mundane Concept 1 AP: Astrology.
8AP

[RolandDeschain]

Selima

The Desert Maiden approached Marah, spotting the delicate bracelet upon her wrist, "Promises made. Promises to be kept Sister." Reaching out, she placed her hand over the bracelet and smiled beatifically. When she loosed her grip, the bracelet now displayed many gems....a diamond, an imperial topaz, a turquoise cat's eye, and an enormous pearl. A perfect match of that bracelet materialized upon the right wrists of Selima, Looloodi, and Tafeita. With a slight bow to Marah, "Lead on Sister."

Catan

The caracan benefited greatly from their alliance with the Mer as trade between the two societies grew. The introduction of tools inevitably led to the acceptance of and application of agricultural practices and domestication. Within caracan society there grew much more formalized methods and practices to give thanks and praise to The Desert Maiden, Marah, and their sisters. Women who were married and with children came to be the leaders of spiritual matters among the caracan and adopted formal customs of rituals and hierarchical organization . They were known simply as the Matron Mothers within Settler society.

Spoiler: AP Accounting

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Beginning AP = 7AP+1 bonus AP
Form Pantheon(1AP) -Sororitas
Members: Marah, Tafeita, Looloodi, and Selima
Leader: Marah
Sphere: Life
Motto: There is beauty in all things that flow from the love of life.

Create Organization(1AP): Matron Mothers. Within Settler society, secular(government, law enforcement, economic affairs, etc...) matters are largely handled by the men along patriarchal lines. Matters of home, hearth, and faith fall under the sphere of female influence. From the tiniest village to the largest towns and cities, the women of child-bearing age meet weekly to discuss these matters. Maidens are unwed women of age and though they attend these organizational meetings they are only there to listen and learn. Married women of age are allowed to participate in discussions and debates, but may not vote. Married women with children are automatically granted full membership, and they vote for the leadership roles. One Matron Mother is chosen as the exemplar of each of The Sisters, and given titles. They are tasked with the implementation and enforcement of both formal and informal policy decisions of the Matron Mothers. They preside over the weekly meetings as well as the rituals and ceremonies of Settler society especially the Feast Day celebrations of the faith.
Leadership Positions

• Sister of Life - exemplar of Selima: First of The Sisters - Chosen from the wives of the nobility or governmental leaders, and as such acts as the liaison between matters of faith and secular governance
• Sister of Beauty - exemplar of Looloodi: Chosen from among the Matron Mothers as the embodiment of beauty and light, presides over most ceremonial functions
• Sister of Love - exemplar of Marah: Defaults to the longest married member; presides over wedding ceremonies and plays a critical role in arranging marriages among the nobility
• Sister of Fertility - exemplar of Tafeita: Often chosen from the women with the most children or the midwives, also presides over ceremonies blessing crops and good harvests
• Sister of Victory - exemplar of Janika: Chosen from the strongest and most skilled at arms as the embodiment of victory, presides over blessings of the hunt and war

Ending AP: 7AP +1 Bonus AP - 1AP - 1 Bonus AP = 6AP
Light(Dawn)8/10; Life(Caracan) 7/10

[Nefarion Xid]

Karam-Kor

Mamona trembled with indignation. She let Looloodi down to the beach gently, then recoiled, screaming, "Have your pride then! Heap your vainglory and recompense upon the scales. Weigh them against a pound of my flesh. Let them keep your bed warm!"

"Hurt her, mar her, and I will see that you never know pleasure," she warned, conjuring a crystal athame from her amulet. She made a swift, low cut with it in the air, then dashed it upon the rocks. As suddenly as her outburst came, she was gone, stepping backwards through a wreath of golden flames, vanishing to elsewhere in creation.

[ChaoticHarmony]

Looloodi: Between the Flaming Hot Gods

Pain flares once again through Looloodi's body as the piercing heat of her enemy's touch stitches her verdant form back to health. Noise fills the ears of the fallen beauty as the two siblings begin to speak, drowning out their voices and her own moans of distress. The brother, the hated one, seems to reach towards her. A sharp new pain introduces itself, and then, all is blissfully numb. He appears to be making something, turning shattered remains of her body into something new.....something.....beautiful..... On his completion, he holds out to her the most stunning necklace Looloodi has ever seen. Such a trinket could only have been made by the pieces of one as gorgeous as herself. A gift? Still deaf to his words, Looloodi is confused by the look he gives. Did Mamona tell him about his cruelty to her most precious tree? Perhaps he is sorry and wishes to make amends? She did attack him without explanation, of course he would defend himself if he didn't realize who she was. Maybe she could forgive him since he made such a wonderful gift for her. She reaches out slowly to accept the bejeweled band of gold, when a shining light surrounds her wrist before her fingertips could even brush her gift. A coral bracelet, decorated with 4 gems now dangles of her wrist, the life energy of 4 goddesses bursting from the jewelry. Looloodi pulls her arm back to take a closer look. A weak but knowing smile appears on her face. "My Sisters.......They're on their way......." she says just barely above a whisper. Then, Darkness overtakes her as she falls unconscious once more.

Spoiler: AP Usage

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Started with 1/16

Join Pantheon(1): Sororitas [Used towards Life(Rebirth)]

Domains:
Nature(Plants)
Earth(Gems)
Life(Beauty) 10/10
Nature(Poison) 3/10
Life(Rebirth) 7/10

Ended with 0/16

[mystic1110]

Spoiler: Previously

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A Whole Big Mess

The whole event had been invigorating to Eniym, on some level it reminded her that while she was the god of languid muck and goop she was also the goddess of the raging storms, infinite in their meaningless violence. In acknowledgment to Nemesis' attention, she raises a fin as if to say that she would wait her turn. Already she was trying to figure out how close this brother and sister were. Their connection was something that itched her skin as leathery as it was. Their connection was supposed to be. Familial and divine. Divinely familial. It was something that should be washed away and cut in half. But that all would have to wait, even in her own mercurial nature, impulsively selfish, naive and feckless, she knew that this moment demanded that she still her tongue and seal her lips with slime.

Mamona knelt, cradling the unconscious woman to her bosom. The gesture was perhaps more possessive than protective, but she did hate to see beautiful things spoiled by rough hands.

"Pillow talk," she explained. "The tree in the east is part of her. She said it had felt it singed. You are fire. That must be why she flew into a rage and attacked you. Was it you?" She gave him a pointed smirk.

A Trial, Collapsed

One-Of-Many darted off of Nemesis' shoulder as the combat began between the Reforged King and the Dawnbringer. It watched the goddess of beauty and light gain the initial advantage, battling the god of forging with her flora and poisons, watched the Cloudmother interfere in their own puzzling, unpredictable day, watched the King emerge victorious and demand his prize. It protested in a clear, deep voice, but even its ringing tones could not be heard over the din of battle and passion. "Fellows Lords of Creation, please," It protested, even knowing that its words would be lost in the chaos, "Remember what you are! Remember the debt we owe to each other!" But it was futility, and all of Many-As-One knew this.

Even now, the strands of the cosmos were plucking uncertainly across Many-As-One's borderline-omnipresent senses, informing them of conflicts emerging all over the world. Of the deaths wreaked by the Reforged King. Of the deaths still to come when the Tidecaller sought her vengeance. Of pantheons forming, gods coming together and drawing apart, of death and conflict, as First-Of-His-Name bore witness to each new atrocity as they claimed every lost soul. The Citadel glutted with new arrivals, the angels now joined by their seraphic counterparts and creatures of tar and moss. And then, the tree of light falls to gloom, and darkness descends.

In desperation, a god and a thousand gods divide, trying to hew order from chaos.

Birds of glass swarm the baths of Mamona, calling out in a dozen, a hundred voices at once, each lost to the next as the combined mind of Many-As-One attempt to formulate a coherent argument and fail, again and again and again. They splash through steaming water, tear whirls of petals from Looloodi's blossoms, scratch and bite at the form of Nemesis even though their beaks and talons pass through his body as if he weren't even there.

A flock traces the path of the Tidecaller across the First World, watches the destruction she wreaks in her wake, pluck the souls of mortals as seawater poisons their lungs and pressure crushes their bones. One-Of-Many, in the shape of a long-feathered robin, calls to Marah in attempts to reason, but its words are lost in the oncoming tide.

A dozen crystalline ravens swoop towards Sololond and his new project, screeching incoherently in desperation and rage. The horde of wraiths battle them away even as they desperately attempt to quell this horrific massacre of souls.

A single bird alights atop a roof in a Caracan settlement, watching in dismay as the residents fall to panic as night descends for perhaps the first time in their lives.

One and a thousand gods attempt to stop the destruction, and fail. Connected as one being, they converse across the world. They know they cannot stop this alone or together, they lack the power, Pride has convinced them that the Lords of Creation can see reason, will act in accord with the desires of Many-As-One. This is false, has always been false, and Many-As-One comprehend this only now. If this persists, the mortals will never survive in such a world. They need guidance that Many-As-One cannot provide alone or in one accord, not yet. And so, a thousand and one gods flap their wings in one accord, and leave the earth of the First Land behind.

They return to the infinite blackness of the Void, feel the power of their native domain surge through their one and thousand bodies. A single bird leaves the flock, and with a final chord, vanishes into the void, body fragmenting into a cloud of feathers which collapse back into themselves, become light, become a star. Many-As-One feel the loss as if it were all-encompassing. They would cry, but they are not mortal, and this single sacrifice must be repeated a thousandfold. Another bird detaches from the flock, sacrifices itself, becomes another star. It happens again, and again, and again. Until a thousand stars populate the canvas of the Void like blots from a master painter. A faint luminescence falls upon the First World, just sufficient to see in the darkness of night, but it is enough.

And then suddenly, everything living on the First World, mortal and deific, experiences a presence come upon them. Not quite mortal and not quite divine, but undeniably and certainly there. It is tied to the stars, and it is the remembrance and the presence of Many-As-One. It is light and hope and memory.

A single, final bird flutters weakly across the now-illuminated Void to the Citadel, where it enters the tallest palace and crumples into the outstretched arm of First-Of-His-Name. It waits there, to regain power. It waits for an opportunity.

Spoiler: AP Actions

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Starting AP: 5

Weave Plane- The Stars of the Void: The Void is now populated with a thousand stars, each the remembrance and final testimony of one member of Many-As-One's flock. Even in the darkest of nights on the First Land, they provide enough illumination to give the capacity to act and the willingness to move on for the mortal races. [4 AP] [Planes (Travel)]

Blessing- A Thousand Stars, A Thousand Eyes: Whenever a resident of the First Land gazes upon one of the stars created by Many-As-One, they know instinctively that there is someone, somewhere, that is looking out for them and is determined to provide them with a better life, somewhere in the future. [1 AP] [Law (Justice)]

Ending AP: 5 Starting - 5 = 0 AP

Domain Progress
4/10 Civilization (Heroes)
5/10 Planes (Travel)
1/10 Law (Justice)

Looloodi: Barely Conscious on a Bare Naked Lap

Light........there needs to be Light.......Light shines on the beauty of things......without her Light, the world can't become beautiful.......

Looloodi coughs violently in the lap of the fair Mamona, blood with spots of venom dripping from her lips. Oh what a sight she must be.......so weak......must regrow.......beauty is everything.......
"Unprovoked.......Pain.........Your Fault........*cough*......my baby.......hurt*cough*me.........hate..........." Jeweled stems begin to slowly grow on Looloodi's broken body, covering the worst of her wounds in glittering flora. And still the sky remains void of the Light of Ilianthos.

Nemesis

Understanding followed swiftly after Mamona's words, and as the goddess in her lap mutter feverish assent Nemesis' brow quirked. The world was his by right, but he had not intended any hurt upon the light of the world, and he saw now that the goddess' madness was born of ignorance. He placed a hand over her heart, fingers of black glass resting lightly against flawless skin.

"You need not hate me, Lady. My encounter with your shining child was no attack, but a youthful indiscretion. For in my search for glory beyond Karam-Kor, where else could I go? The fire of my touch was born of ardor, not hate. Still, you are owed recompense."

Ruby light flowed from Nemesis' fingertips, flowing into the manifold wounds suffered by the light-giver. Suffused in crimson aurora, her wounds closed in moments, bound together by an infinitesimal line of glowing cinder. Across the world, every child of Looloodi scoured by fire glowed in kind, new leaves and branches budding forth, stronger somehow for having survived the crucible of creation.

"My gift, to you and your children. But as I repay my debt, so too must you."

He pulled back his hand, and it rose it trailed a stream of looloodite upon a golden vine. The bud slid from her body as if cut by a scalpel, coming to rest in Nemesis' palm as he closed his fingers tightly around it. At the heart of the great mountain, the Anvil of Creation flared to life, and the fragment of Looloodi dissolved in a stream of opal iridescence. His grip loosened, fingers playing along the molten radiance as it spun into a wide ring in the air. His other hand moved in a counter motion above it, weaving the alloy of jewel and divine essential into a thin collar of iridescent metal, a perfect sphere of crimson looloodite at its center. A star glowed from the gem's core, the eternal light of the goddess.

"Here is your punishment, the mark of your shame and proof of my supremacy."

The collar parted along an invisible seam, and he lowered it down to her hands, his voice rising with terrible compulsion.

"Accept it."

Spoiler: Actions

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Free AP: 4
Spent AP: 16

1 AP - Bless, The Crimson Embrace (Corruption (Ambition))
Channeling his divine power through the insensate Looloodi, Nemesis touches the plants of Creation that are her children. While they are not proof against fire or devastation, those that survive bounce back with surprising speed. If anything, these regenerative burns leave the local plant life more vital and robust than before. If, perhaps, a shade darker and more imposing.

2 AP + 2 AP (Looloodi) - Create Major Artifact, The Sunstone Chain (Utility: Curse) (Craft (Metalworking))
Forged in the shape of a collar for the defeated Looloodi, the Sunstone Chain is bound by ephemeral cord to Nemesis' hand. The Chain leaves her incapable of standing in opposition to Nemesis' will, and draws her inexorably to answer his summons.

Nemesis gains the Craft (Metalworking) Domain!
>2 AP - Create Land: Karam-Kor, The Mountain of Power (Craft (Metalworking))
>5 AP - Create Greater Artifact, The Anvil of Creation (Utility: Create Major Artifact) (Craft (Metalworking))
>1 AP - Create Basic Concept (Metalsmithing) (Craft (Metalworking))
>2 AP - Create Major Artifact, The Sunstone Chain (Utility, Curse) (Craft (Metalworking))

"You mean to have dominion over her?" Mamona scowled and her eyes burned with defiance, but she dared not deny the fierce king his prize. "She is yours to take, though I would enjoy her much more unbound. What of this? You can have her, yes, but then you will never have me."

Her smile was almost coy. "I give willingly, eagerly. She would resent you, always. You cannot have us both."

Nemesis

His brow quirking at Mamona's ultimatum, Nemesis met her smile with one of his own.

"What you would give, dear sister, is far more than I desire of her. She has wronged me - wounded me - and I will have recompense. But do not imagine her your rival in her servitude."

He turned his smile, in all its terrible weight, to Looloodi.

"For all that she will be mine, she will remain yours to entice at your leisure. There is little virtue to a vassal lacking in their own will. Freedom makes their surrender all the sweeter."

Karam-Kor

Mamona trembled with indignation. She let Looloodi down to the beach gently, then recoiled, screaming, "Have your pride then! Heap your vainglory and recompense upon the scales. Weigh them against a pound of my flesh. Let them keep your bed warm!"

"Hurt her, mar her, and I will see that you never know pleasure," she warned, conjuring a crystal athame from her amulet. She made a swift, low cut with it in the air, then dashed it upon the rocks. As suddenly as her outburst came, she was gone, stepping backwards through a wreath of golden flames, vanishing to elsewhere in creation.

Looloodi: Between the Flaming Hot Gods

Pain flares once again through Looloodi's body as the piercing heat of her enemy's touch stitches her verdant form back to health. Noise fills the ears of the fallen beauty as the two siblings begin to speak, drowning out their voices and her own moans of distress. The brother, the hated one, seems to reach towards her. A sharp new pain introduces itself, and then, all is blissfully numb. He appears to be making something, turning shattered remains of her body into something new.....something.....beautiful..... On his completion, he holds out to her the most stunning necklace Looloodi has ever seen. Such a trinket could only have been made by the pieces of one as gorgeous as herself. A gift? Still deaf to his words, Looloodi is confused by the look he gives. Did Mamona tell him about his cruelty to her most precious tree? Perhaps he is sorry and wishes to make amends? She did attack him without explanation, of course he would defend himself if he didn't realize who she was. Maybe she could forgive him since he made such a wonderful gift for her. She reaches out slowly to accept the bejeweled band of gold, when a shining light surrounds her wrist before her fingertips could even brush her gift. A coral bracelet, decorated with 4 gems now dangles of her wrist, the life energy of 4 goddesses bursting from the jewelry. Looloodi pulls her arm back to take a closer look. A weak but knowing smile appears on her face. "My Sisters.......They're on their way......." she says just barely above a whisper. Then, Darkness overtakes her as she falls unconscious once more.

Spoiler: AP Usage

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Started with 1/16

Join Pantheon(1): Sororitas

Ended with 0/16

A Whole Big Mess

Eniym continues to unenergetically, or even to some eyes, flaggingly, swim in the air, her congealed slime making a sort of hazy curtain so that the proceedings within could proceed with some sort of dignified privacy. She watches the avatar of many-of-one leave without a word or acknowledge of her false warning. Interestingly enough - her warning appeared to contain some truth - she wondered if a lie may be transmuted to truth or if it was always a lie.

She saw the connection between brother and sister seemingly sever without her doing and again that itch . . . she felt the compulsion to bring them back together in a union of siblings. Perhaps even incest? Unclear to her yet.

She saw this new strange bond being formed between the accuser and accused - victim and victor - and its chains and ties and also itched to break it. Freedom or reversal. Also unclear to hear yet.

She saw the bracelet made of her coral - a sisterhood symbolized and yearned to have those sisters scratch each other's faces. That at least was clear.

And yet, she still did nothing. A stone tossed to produce ripples needed a still pond and the situation too hectic - convulsing like one of her storms - evolving like a mushroom from one of her swamps. She kept silent waiting to see what relationship formed and broke apart so she would know what to try to stitch back together and what to unsew.

[Anubis Dread]

Tafeita: In a Hole

To say that Tafeita failed to understand the logic behind what she was investigating would be an understatement. She knew she had to understand the new threat that had ripped itself up from the underworld in order to combat it. She knew that not all divines though the same as Looloodi and herself - Janika was proof enough of that. Yet she could not even begin to comprehend the logic that went into the creation of this thrice damned moss.

Even as she mused yet another wave of plant collapsed from above, unable to cling to the stone under its own growing weight. The Hearth Goddess sighed, before smashing it back into place with a pillar of earth. There was nothing in this tunnel but the moss itself and the bodies it animated. What's more the moss sought to do nothing but spread itself an animate more corpses. It sought to make no children, did not build upon anywhere it spread and was nothing but an unthinking blight. It couldn't even be called alive really. It was a hazard, rather than a creature, and why would someone create a hazard that brought no form of value to the world? What's more it had been intentionally spread since it's inception. It was pure insanity.

Still despite being madness made manifest it was not the mad genius of an erratic mind, but the predictable madness of an insensate dullard. It would be easy enough to combat. It would even be possible to eradicate it completely if she were to invest enough of her energy into the matter. To do so would take more than she had to give right now though, and clearly SOMEONE cared for this nonsense enough that they would simply recreate it if she sought to eliminate it entirely. No, to do more than to cease it's spread as much as possible and turn it to better aims would bring her into a battle she couldn't win, if only because whatever god had done this clearly had little other aim than the spread of it's spawn while she had many other things vying for her attention.

A simple threat required a simple solution. Tearing a lump of moss from the wall, Tafeita squished it together to form a roundish lump. Then she merely changed it's affinity for the dead for an affinity for the living. In an instant the dark green moss became a bright blue ball of gelatin. Letting the ball splat to the ground, it immediately wriggled away to begin consuming the moss. A humble creature, but one perfect for the job. The slime would eat the moss, and other poisonous things aside, and purify the mass in its body to become a panacea for the living. The dead on the other hand, the primary form of defense the moss had, would be harmed by the purified toxins as though it were the most scorching of acids. A practically invincible predator that while unspeakably dangerous to its prey was little more than a treasure chest to be opened for her people.

Tafeita began to swish her tail, intent to send the slimes to her Caldera to see how they reacted to her numerous blessed plants, before pausing midmotion. That was right. Her Caldera was no longer her own. Instead being possessed by brigands and slavers. When facing the goddess who had caused her woes head on she'd been blasé, merely promising she would get her land back for her people. Yet now that she had to acknowledge what she had lost it was a pang in her heart. With a sigh, she instead limited the spreading of her creature to the outside of The Holes and the tunnels that lead to them. It was doubtful even they could survive the heart of this monstrosity after all.

Just as she was musing as to what to do next a blinding light cause the Beast Goddess to flinch back. Her paw was illuminated for a moment, before the light formed into a rather beautiful bracelet. Instantly she knew what it meant - it was a pledge of friendship and power. A mark of her bond with Looloodi, Marah and Selima. A part of her was taken aback by the gesture. Touched by the gift. A much larger part of her had a very important question she'd need to seek the answer to.

"Who the heck is Marah?"

Spoiler: AP Expenditure

Show

AP = 5

Create Monstrous Race (1AP) - Slimes: Small creatures that are little more than a nuisance for most races, they live in places with toxic plant matter. They eat the plants to sustain themselves, purifying within their membrane the substance and converting it into a healing elixir. When a slime grows large enough from feed it splits into a new slime. They tend to small, varying from one foot to three feet high and just as round depending on where in their life cycle they are. While having to resort to weak slamming against living things, against undead a slime can engulf them and burn them with their healing innards. [Civilization (Agriculture) 5/10

AP Spent

Create Race 1AP
1=1AP

5-1 = 4AP

[Civilization (Agriculture) 5/10]

[Feirgon]

Chryon and Ilianthos: True Night

A stillness filled the ever changing god of chaos. Though their light was not diminished, they could now see the world in a way they never had before.

They had spent so much energy and focus on the dawnflies, to see the world from above and to record the mortal world below, they had gone blind to everything else. The interactions between the many deities was unnoticed but Ilianthos suddenly going dark was impossible not to head.

Having just watched Yrobios transfer from one dawnfly to the next, Chryon turned their attention to the unlit world. For the first time, they realized that they were only ever seeing half the world. Their attention was only ever half what it could be. Chryon approached the flower that once glowed continuously. Chryon reached out to touch it.

In that moment, the avatar of Looloodi revealed the pain that its goddess had experience. Chryon knew this pain, but had never felt it before. They had always been the one to share pain, never to have it shared with them. This was an all encompassing pain.

PAIN IS THE PORTAL TO UNDERSTANDING EXISTENCE.

As Chryon's words reverberated through the avatar, a silver drop began to form at the tip of the sleeping flower. It was a tear, born from pain and understanding. Chryon took the droplet and carried it into the sky.

THROUGH ILIANTHOS' PAIN WE HAVE DISCOVERED NEW LIGHT AND NEW UNDERSTANDING. THIS SHALL VIEW THE WORLD THAT YROBIOS CANNOT SEE.

With those words, the droplet increased in size a thousand fold to create a dimly lit floating bubble of water in the sky. The bubble then opens to reveal a green eye that shines a gently green light on the darkened world below.

Spoiler: AP Usage

Show

Starting
AP: 2+4
PAP: 0

Create Mythical Concept (4 AP) - The Evening Eye, Ilystear: A heavenly body of light that stays opposite the dawnflies. It provides nights with a gentle green light, even for those places that might not receive Ilianthos' light normally. It is also an observer that can see not just what happens at night, but even what happens below the ground and in the heavens above. Like Yrobios, it retains the knowledge of what it sees. [Light (Observation) - 8/10]

Ending
AP: 2
PAP: 0

[TheDarkDM]

Nemesis

Nonplussed by Mamona's fit of pique, Nemesis spent a long moment staring at the fading sparks of her departure. He sighed, and with him the entire island shook in confusion. Much of the nature of his fellow Lords of Creation remained a mystery to him, but he had at least seen the gleam in his conquest's eyes when she beheld her chain. Conscious of the weakness that burdened her limbs, the forge god was moved to an act of kindness, fitting the collar securely around the goddess' waiting neck. The seam at the back vanished as it found purchase on divine flesh, creating an unbroken band of metal so fine and singular it clung like taut silk, and as it closed a ring of fire snaked around the middle finger of Nemesis' right hand. He rose to his feet, and in his wake the glass crater around Looloodi reformed into a smooth divan to cradle her insensate form.

"Your patience is admirable, nameless one."

His face rose to meet Eniym's gaze.

"But now we may speak without interruption."

[Nefarion Xid]

The humans’ tales of creation were many, for they enjoyed themselves most of all.

As they had always worshiped Mamona, one story said they had been lovingly carved by her hand from stone or gold, or made of clay and given hearts of fire. They returned to the earth in death, so it seemed reasonable that they came from earth. They observed pottery and saw that bowls were vessels to be filled. Their purpose it seemed was to be filled too, with drink and food and with other humans. It was very likely that they too were clay.

Less popular accounts said they had been halflings once. They called the small folk as such for they were half their height and hadn’t been made whole. Mamona had found them lacking and took them to her breast until they were fully grown. The process was repeatable, they observed. At least it worked on small humans. Tiny, new humans grew to be full humans when nursed. It did not make halflings any taller, though clever and naughty halflings did encourage them to try.

Another telling claimed humans were born in the conventional way, more or less. After some tryst, Mamona had grown so gravid that she was forced to down on an island to rest and birthed the whole human race. Humans did not venture to guess who had fathered them. There was a devilish mystery in that. Perhaps they had many fathers. Or perhaps Mamona’s fecundity was so great that she needed no man. The proudest humans would go as far as to say Mamona had delivered the entire world. This was a childish notion, but it appealed to many more than the notion of the world crawling its way out of moss and stone.

In truth, Mamona had forgotten that she had made humans at all. To her knowledge, they were just another race that sprang up among the weeds on some distant island in the west. Admittedly, it had been the same island she’d chosen to drink herself into a stupor, but she fails to acknowledge the tenuous connection.

Spoiler: Actions

Show

Create Sapient Life (2AP) [Nobility (Decadence)- Humans: You are one of these.
Bless (Artifact Charge) Humans

Humans appear the most distant western island. For now, their lives are close to idyllic. They exist on fruit, wine, and the milk of their most sacred animal: the cow. They worship the golden idols left to them by Mamona, but lack the knowledge to extract gold from the earth and the ability to create jewelry. Should any race encounter them, humans are clever and eager traders, offering wine, pearls and ancient coin.

3/10 AP for Nobility Domain
7 AP remaining

[mystic1110]

Spoiler: Previously

Show

Nemesis

Nonplussed by Mamona's fit of pique, Nemesis spent a long moment staring at the fading sparks of her departure. He sighed, and with him the entire island shook in confusion. Much of the nature of his fellow Lords of Creation remained a mystery to him, but he had at least seen the gleam in his conquest's eyes when she beheld her chain. Conscious of the weakness that burdened her limbs, the forge god was moved to an act of kindness, fitting the collar securely around the goddess' waiting neck. The seam at the back vanished as it found purchase on divine flesh, creating an unbroken band of metal so fine and singular it clung like taut silk, and as it closed a ring of fire snaked around the middle finger of Nemesis' right hand. He rose to his feet, and in his wake the glass crater around Looloodi reformed into a smooth divan to cradle her insensate form.

"Your patience is admirable, nameless one."

His face rose to meet Eniym's gaze.

"But now we may speak without interruption."

Kings and Hags

The hagfish slowed her swim and twisted her eel-like shape to face the king and his new prisoner. She swam closer until Looloodi could perhaps almost feel the slime that Eniym wore like a second skin. Perhaps it even dripped down. Probably not an onslaught, but a tiny speck. Was it to remind her of her degradation or an accident - even Eniym was not sure. In any case, she addresses the King in Iron.

My name . . brrlplop . . . is Eniym

And in this instance, she had decided to don the trappings of royalty to gain the King's respect

I am the Queen of Storms.

Almost as if trumpets blaring but certainly by chance there was a thunderclap.

I had come to you with a message between Royals, but it seems that . . brrlplop . . . the message has now become moot. Instead, from the words of your new pet, I know that another is seeking you. When you burned the tree this one grew fearful and angry. And yet when you burned the ocean another grew aroused. Your sister . . brrlplop . . . said you would never know pleasure but it is not so, someone has fallen in love with you with such fiery passion that she has convinced herself that you are to be destroyed. She will hound you and try to crush you . . brrlplop . . . secretly hoping to submit.

At this point, Eniym looked at Looloodi

The one I speak of is the Queen of the Oceans and the Salt therein, she is the . . brrlplop . . . sister by the bond of this one, and she will come with the rest of them. She, however, will not try to rescue you - she will be jealous of your relationship with the King in Iron.

And she turned to Nemesis again

As Queen of the mercurial storms I wish to warn you . . brrlplop . . . that women are more unknowable than the skies. I have come to . . brrlplop . . . wish you fortune.

[bc56]

Tenebreon and the Thief of Souls

Tenebreon counts the wraiths, adding them up with his abacus, measuring their souls in order to judge what is going on. "Few of them even served you. Why would anyone appreciate you if you devour their servants to build your body and bind the souls of their worshippers as your slaves? No, I will not aid you." Tenebreon's cloak shifts, and an obsidian lance slides out of its folds. He grips it, and strikes out at the nearest wraith, shattering its chains and dispelling it to the afterlife. "Your actions are foul. I demand that you release these souls."

[Tychris1]

Akkraul, The First City

Dragged along Abil-Kkan’s cart, Enkidan observed the wonders of the First City, and gurgled in displeasure at what they saw. Giants toiled and hunted for food, chasing after massive beasts of varying shapes and sizes, and dragging them back beaten and skewered upon blades and spears of mythic proportion. Forges and homes were one and the same, each Giant carving a hole within the massive frame of Nemesis’ mountain. At the heart of each of these homes was an anvil. Carved meticulously to the proportion and design of their gods but each with their own unique personal flourishes or visual declaration of accomplishment or skill. Giants toiled endlessly on these large flat tools creating weapons, ate upon them, and placed offerings upon it of gold silver and iron whilst extolling praise to their vacant Tyrant. They screeched his praises, their voices ringing in harmony with the clamor of heavy hammers striking, and beseeched him for gifts and blessings of all kind. It was a machine, orderly, composed, and tirelessly working.

It was repulsive.

Enkidan felt themselves slam against the floor as Abil-Kkan emptied his cart within what was ostensibly his own forge, and without a moment of respite he began to sift through the refuse Enkidan had collected. Single hand groping for garbage the other wielded a hammer as Abil-Kkan knelt beside his anvil and whispered prayers.

”What are you doing?”
“Praying. What are these wonders you promised me, Enkidan?”

Craning its neck to behold the grand anvil the so called Nemesis used Enkidan scratched its temporarily exposed warty bark throat and croaked in displeasure.

“You say these things and do this work because you want something from your God?” It inquired.
“I do it because it is my place and my due to give upon him what he has given to us.”
“But not onto each other.”

The Giant paused at the unprompted thought. Its hand slowly withdrew itself from the garbage pile as the hammer ceased its precise tapping. He pulled the creature’s head around in an attempt to stare it in the eyes (Or dark rock and a gold coin it had somehow stolen whilst being carted along in this case). “What do you mean?” He asked.

“Why not take from your neighbor what it is you seek to make? Your Lord will be equally pleased with the product and you will gain the glory of two instead of one.” It stated plainly whilst clawing at its stomach pathetically. It’s distended gut rumbled and bubbled like the birth place it had escaped from not too long ago and all efforts of jamming further garbage or dirt in it proved fruitless. Abil-Kkan considered the theft for a long pregnant silence, examined his hammer, and glared at the Tarry Beast warily. “Were I to perish in this struggle or worse we both fall upon our hammers simultaneously my Lord will be most displeased by the depletion of his servants. He wishes us to make this home as great as he.”

Enkidan waved off the doubt with a dripping and rapidly collapsing hand “Fear not. I will handle your neighbor while you loot your conquest. You need only bring him to me and his rewards and craftsmanship shall be yours to claim.” Assured of his guests capabilities Abil-Kkan left his forge unattended and entered his neighbors forge. Enkidan, left to their own devices, began to examine the forge in greater detail. It was a simple spartan circular homestead. A slab of stone carved into the wall served as a bed, an anvil dominated the center with tools and varying metals strewn about it, and in the corner a peculiar golden statue with excessively round protrusions on it stared at the mossy and rotten God with what could for a fraction of a second be perceived as scorn.

Enkidan ceased thinking about it after devouring the statue whole.

Abil-Kkan spoke to his neighbor of the hunt, the new stars (That clearly their Tyrant had taken the sparks of his forge and discarded to the sky), and of their newest sacrificial anvils they worked upon to offer up for their god. He enticed his kin with a wondrous sight unlike any seen before and urged them to enter his forge. It was only a few steps and wonders awaited. Staring into the hole Abil-Kkan claimed as their own, the poor soul saw no wonders, and no forge at all. No all they saw was an endless gaping black pit that swallowed them whole. Whilst the Traitor Giant looted and plundered, Enkidan digested, and contemplated within the barren hole in a wall. That is until its stomach began to rumble and shake violently before disgorging its contents.

A river of garbage and vile refuse washed its way out of Enkidan’s toothless mouth. Lumps and clumps of flesh, metal, stone, blood, acid, and more rolled free upon the forge ground. Rubbing its gold eye clean Enkidan beheld that some of the clumps began to shift before scampering away skittishly. Lazily grabbing the closest one Enkidan began to eat it again and when examining it in closer detail for a moment spotted a horse of warts and bodily features upon the creature. Far too many to come from even one or two giants, the scrambling monstrosity had a host of mouths, fingers, and eyes with which to behold its final moments of newly found life. The other clumps scampered away and escaped from the Slothful god’s greedy reach which provoked not ire but apathy and remorse. Shrugging its bony shoulders Enkidan reclined in its throne of refuse and filth whilst watching with unmatched glee as Abil-Kkan returned to his forge with an extra anvil, weapons, and an assortment of treasures to the huge race. So great was their shared pleasure he paid no mind to the foul stench within his forge or the further scattered state it had come upon. Victory was easily ceased for him. And now, with newly claimed anvil set beside his bed, Abil-Kkan prepared himself dinner with a pile of food he had secreted away underneath the earth of his bed, and ate upon his new table.

Enkidan croaked in unamused surprise.

But from this forge a miasma began to spread throughout all of Akkraul. This scene played itself out over and over again, a shift was evident in the air itself, and the fetid haggard beasts spewed forth from Enkidan heralded this. A malevolent intelligence suffused the giants who inhaled a waft of Enkidan’s putrid work, spurring the darkest corners of the mind, and yet slugging the soul and the body.

Spoiler: AP Expenditure

Show

2 AP Create Mythic Subrace of Giants (Trolls): Trolls are slightly smaller than Giants proper but are no less their kin in nature. Massive to behold they are repulsive in ever sense of the word and are nearly impossible to kill save for the digestive processes of consumption common to the living races. Anything less than their total consumption will only result in the lazy and brutish creature willfully ignoring the wound and miraculously healing from it. Their minds are riddled with superstition and doubt, their thoughts far cruder and less capable then their kin, and as of such they understand in an almost instinctual sense that they are inferior to their Giant kin and must serve them. Unlike Giants Trolls are capable of sexual reproduction being blessed with occasional forms that evoke the same purposes Mamona’s statue would entail. Fire harms not only the flesh but the mind of Trolls and they fear it and revere it in equal measure. Continued exposure to flame will drive a Troll mad beyond their normal cruel disposition and as of such they are further useless within a Forge and thus cut low within Giant society. They reek of the swampy pits of Enkidan’s birth and lurk predominately on the outskirts of Akkraul where Enkidan was born as they can survive for extreme periods of time with no food or sustenance and merely consume swampy earth and dirty water disregarding edibility.

2 AP Create Mythic Subrace Giants (Ogres): Rotund and pudgy in disgusting measure Ogres morbid obesity is only matched by their profound stupidity or gluttonous obsession with consumption. Smaller than Giants they are still quite large in scale and easily reduce trees to splinters when accidentally leaning against them after tiring. Unlike Giants they are capable of reproduction blessed with occasional forms that accidentally mirror those of the statue Enkidan devoured and digested. Greedy and hungry little creatures, Ogres take whatever they can, and bash aside those who would get in the way of what they desire. These squabbles are normally purely contained within their own for as any casual observer could see that a Giant would quickly fell a single Ogre. Indeed they are often used as simple laborers, hunters, and attendants at the forge where their extensively flabby skin provides ample space for storing tools, sweat to cool the fire, and an extra pair of (albeit clumsy and untrained) hands in the case of precise work.

1 AP Bless Giants (Intelligence): The Giants are blessed with a cunning that goes beyond most mortals, a scheming mind of strategy, deception, philosophy, and iron discipline.

1 AP Curse Giants (Lazy Cruelty): The Giants are cruel and xenophobic, their hearts gripped by the toxic claws of Enkidan’s utter apathy, and often find themselves in deep extended mental plots or self absorbed glory seizing schemes of a time scale inconceivable to the races restricted by their mortal coils crumbling.

2 AP Create Advanced Concept: Forgery. Giants have evolved their forge craft to include the forging of deceptive offerings and tools. Mimicking others signatures and presenting gold filled with silver or lead instead of its purest contents.

Theft (Efficiency) Domain Claimed!

Ogres and Trolls contribute to new Domain of Consumption (Waste) 4/10.

2 AP Left

[LordArgon]

Spoiler: Previously

Show

Tenebreon and the Thief of Souls

Tenebreon counts the wraiths, adding them up with his abacus, measuring their souls in order to judge what is going on. "Few of them even served you. Why would anyone appreciate you if you devour their servants to build your body and bind the souls of their worshippers as your slaves? No, I will not aid you." Tenebreon's cloak shifts, and an obsidian lance slides out of its folds. He grips it, and strikes out at the nearest wraith, shattering its chains and dispelling it to the afterlife. "Your actions are foul. I demand that you release these souls."

Sololond laughed at the fashion accessory's outburst. "Who are you to make demands of me? You act as if these souls are yours. Where is your name written on them? Anyways, the souls are of little use to me, but I feel it is only right I keep them from being eaten by those foul flying fiends. I was planning on making bodies for them once this creation is complete. Now if you have a safe place to store them, I have no qualms with giving them to you, but I would like to give them new homes eventually, one's better than their old ones."

[Draken]

Spoiler

Show

Tafeita: In a Hole

To say that Tafeita failed to understand the logic behind what she was investigating would be an understatement. She knew she had to understand the new threat that had ripped itself up from the underworld in order to combat it. She knew that not all divines though the same as Looloodi and herself - Janika was proof enough of that. Yet she could not even begin to comprehend the logic that went into the creation of this thrice damned moss.

Even as she mused yet another wave of plant collapsed from above, unable to cling to the stone under its own growing weight. The Hearth Goddess sighed, before smashing it back into place with a pillar of earth. There was nothing in this tunnel but the moss itself and the bodies it animated. What's more the moss sought to do nothing but spread itself an animate more corpses. It sought to make no children, did not build upon anywhere it spread and was nothing but an unthinking blight. It couldn't even be called alive really. It was a hazard, rather than a creature, and why would someone create a hazard that brought no form of value to the world? What's more it had been intentionally spread since it's inception. It was pure insanity.

Still despite being madness made manifest it was not the mad genius of an erratic mind, but the predictable madness of an insensate dullard. It would be easy enough to combat. It would even be possible to eradicate it completely if she were to invest enough of her energy into the matter. To do so would take more than she had to give right now though, and clearly SOMEONE cared for this nonsense enough that they would simply recreate it if she sought to eliminate it entirely. No, to do more than to cease it's spread as much as possible and turn it to better aims would bring her into a battle she couldn't win, if only because whatever god had done this clearly had little other aim than the spread of it's spawn while she had many other things vying for her attention.

A simple threat required a simple solution. Tearing a lump of moss from the wall, Tafeita squished it together to form a roundish lump. Then she merely changed it's affinity for the dead for an affinity for the living. In an instant the dark green moss became a bright blue ball of gelatin. Letting the ball splat to the ground, it immediately wriggled away to begin consuming the moss. A humble creature, but one perfect for the job. The slime would eat the moss, and other poisonous things aside, and purify the mass in its body to become a panacea for the living. The dead on the other hand, the primary form of defense the moss had, would be harmed by the purified toxins as though it were the most scorching of acids. A practically invincible predator that while unspeakably dangerous to its prey was little more than a treasure chest to be opened for her people.

Tafeita began to swish her tail, intent to send the slimes to her Caldera to see how they reacted to her numerous blessed plants, before pausing midmotion. That was right. Her Caldera was no longer her own. Instead being possessed by brigands and slavers. When facing the goddess who had caused her woes head on she'd been blasé, merely promising she would get her land back for her people. Yet now that she had to acknowledge what she had lost it was a pang in her heart. With a sigh, she instead limited the spreading of her creature to the outside of The Holes and the tunnels that lead to them. It was doubtful even they could survive the heart of this monstrosity after all.

Just as she was musing as to what to do next a blinding light cause the Beast Goddess to flinch back. Her paw was illuminated for a moment, before the light formed into a rather beautiful bracelet. Instantly she knew what it meant - it was a pledge of friendship and power. A mark of her bond with Looloodi, Marah and Selima. A part of her was taken aback by the gesture. Touched by the gift. A much larger part of her had a very important question she'd need to seek the answer to.

"Who the heck is Marah?"

Spoiler: AP Expenditure

Show

AP = 5

Create Monstrous Race (1AP) - Slimes: Small creatures that are little more than a nuisance for most races, they live in places with toxic plant matter. They eat the plants to sustain themselves, purifying within their membrane the substance and converting it into a healing elixir. When a slime grows large enough from feed it splits into a new slime. They tend to small, varying from one foot to three feet high and just as round depending on where in their life cycle they are. While having to resort to weak slamming against living things, against undead a slime can engulf them and burn them with their healing innards. [Civilization (Agriculture) 5/10

AP Spent

Create Race 1AP
1=1AP

5-1 = 4AP

[Civilization (Agriculture) 5/10]

[Tafeita in the Underground]

A pile of moss falls away as a wall of stone shifts next to Tafeita, revealing an almost pristine tunnel. There is still moss there, that is certain, but much less, and the area is flooded with dark water up until a halfling's waist.

And there are murals in the walls. Writen long ago.

Our lady Marah took a piece of coral from the shores of the dreaded continent, and with it she grew a forest to gift to our queen, and through her to us all.

Beneath the mural there is an alcove in which rests the body of a mer, decades dead but preserved by the moss.

There is a divine presence in this corridor.

[Anubis Dread]

Tafeita: The Fortress of Moss

Tafeita felt her fur rise as the divine presence washed over her. This was... different. Much, much different than any other divine she'd encounter. Even Janika, as much as she disagreed with her, was understandable. She was a physical being, she spoke, and she had a set of values that she could comprehend if not agree with. This being on the other hand... even if her burning heart continued to blaze, the rest of her felt chilled to the bone.

"...greetings," the beast spoke hesitantly, eyes darting around in a vain attempt to find a 'body' for the 'somebody' she spoke to. "Thank you for the information. It's... it's very helpful. I am Tafeita. Who am I speaking to?"

[Toxic Mind]

Marah: Fury of the Deep

Spoiler: Previously

Show

Selima

The Desert Maiden approached Marah, spotting the delicate bracelet upon her wrist, "Promises made. Promises to be kept Sister." Reaching out, she placed her hand over the bracelet and smiled beatifically. When she loosed he grip, the bracelet was now contained multiple gems....a diamond, a imperial topaz, a turquoise cat's eye, and an enormous pearl. A perfect match of that bracelet materialized upon the right wrists of Selima, Looloodi, and Tafeita. With a slight bow to Marah, "Lead on Sister."

Catan

The caracan benefited greatly from their alliance with the Mer as trade between the two societies grew. The introduction of tools inevitably led to the acceptance of and application of agricultural practices and domestication. Within caracan society there grew much more formalized methods and practices to give thanks and praise to The Desert Maiden, Marah, and their sisters. Women who were married, with children came to be the leaders of spiritual matters among the caracan and adopted formal customs of leadership and hierarchy. They were known simply as the Matron Mothers within Settler society.

Spoiler: AP Accounting

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Beginning AP = 7AP+1 bonus AP
Form Pantheon(1AP) -Sororitas
Members: Marah, Tafeita, Looloodi, and Selima
Leader: Marah
Sphere: Life
Motto: There is beauty in all things that flow from the love of life.

Create Organization(1AP): Matron Mothers....details to follow

Ending AP: 7AP +1 Bonus AP - 1AP - 1 Bonus AP = 6AP
Light(Dawn)8/10; Life(Caracan) 7/10

[/QUOTE]

Marah looked down for a moment at the bracelet with its many gems, feeling connections to goddesses she had never met, other sisters, and one who needed her most of all. "To the Tree, then. It darkened, perhaps it will provide some clue as to where She lies." In an effort to keep unnecessary destruction to a minimum, Marah releases the wave, allowing it to gently sink back into the ocean. She was the Tidecaller, she could summon another one when it was needed. Inundated in her own element, surrounding by the Ocean, she heads quickly towards the Tree, not truly heeding who follows, though she feels the energy of Selima close behind.

Ilianthos, Darkened
Marah despaired at the darkness upon the Flower-Tree. It was covered in burn scaring, sap ichor oozing from various wounds. Its roots were covered in moss, the very same that burst forth to threaten her Mer from the Destroyer's wounds in her land. If that was not damning enough, it seemed the path of moss led directly to the Destroyer's island-creation. It was all the proof she needed. She turns to Selima. "He is there. If he does not have our Sister, he knows where she is. We should crush him, bind him to tell us where she is and what he has done."

Spoiler: AP

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Starting AP: 4/16
-1AP Join Pantheon: Sororitas [Life (Nourishment 5/10]


Music (Song): 1/10
Life (Nourishment): 5/10

[Draken]

Tafeita: The Fortress of Moss

Tafeita felt her fur rise as the divine presence washed over her. This was... different. Much, much different than any other divine she'd encounter. Even Janika, as much as she disagreed with her, was understandable. She was a physical being, she spoke, and she had a set of values that she could comprehend if not agree with. This being on the other hand... even if her burning heart continued to blaze, the rest of her felt chilled to the bone.

"...greetings," the beast spoke hesitantly, eyes darting around in a vain attempt to find a 'body' for the 'somebody' she spoke to. "Thank you for the information. It's... it's very helpful. I am Tafeita. Who am I speaking to?"

The presence focuses on a wall, and it carves itself as if eroding over an epoch.

I don't have a name. Names discern who we are, but I am what I am. And what I am is The Fortress of Moss. You can call me that. I am these walls, and these halls. Everywhere beneath these stones. I keep old things so that they may one day be recalled.

How about you? Tell me. The halflings and kobolds say much of you, Tafeita. But mortals are prone to untruths. I have many a tale written in these walls that I ought to mark as fiction, before anyone misunderstands.

[Anubis Dread]

Spoiler

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The presence focuses on a wall, and it carves itself as if eroding over an epoch.

I don't have a name. Names discern who we are, but I am what I am. And what I am is The Fortress of Moss. You can call me that. I am these walls, and these halls. Everywhere beneath these stones. I keep old things so that they may one day be recalled.

How about you? Tell me. The halflings and kobolds say much of you, Tafeita. But mortals are prone to untruths. I have many a tale written in these walls that I ought to mark as fiction, before anyone misunderstands.

Tafeita: The Fortress of Moss

The Fortress of Moss... such a strange creature. Tafeita still couldn't help but feel flattered that her children and those they helped seemed to hold her in such esteem, even though she'd done so little for them. Though for some reason the idea of tales written about her filled her with an odd sense of foreboding. It was probably nothing.

"Whether it is your name or not I greet you, Fortress of Moss," the Hearth Goddess replied, stating it more as a name followed by a place rather than a title or an object. "I thank you for your kind words. I cannot say whether what they have said is true or not, but I gave life to the kobolds and sent them to aid the halflings. I taught them to sow seeds from the land, and build dens upon flat earth. I gave them the ability to bear great numbers of children and a desire to spread across the world. Beyond that I have done little for them. ...may I ask a question of my own?" she went on hesitantly. "You say that you keep hold of the old so that they can be returned. That seem admirable. Yet your moss seems only to consume the still new to spread itself further. How does that further your cause? I have done things that are frivolous or wasteful," she admitted. "Yet I could not imagine making something that is actively detrimental to furthering my view of this world."

[The Succubus]

The Great Rat (featuring Fortress of Moss, Marah, Looloodi, Enyim, Nemesis)

Of Mice and Moss

Darkness filled the tunnels and chambers of Tanglenest. The roots that once shone with their gentle light had first dimmed, then faded completely. What had happened? Had it been connected to the earthquakes and fires from earlier, or was this some new horror to be visited upon them? The Great Rat did not know. At the very least, the fires and rockfalls had ceased and in their place had come a strange rustling sound. Although they did not know it, the rustling heralded a huge change in the lives of the rats.

The rat slowly limped into the chamber, supported by its nest mate. Pain shot through it with every step - it was only through some minor miracle that the falling rocks had not crushed it but instead had "only" landed a blow on its hind quarters.

"Pain. Much pain. No help to make pain leave," it said, in the curious language the rats used.

Its nest mate looked downcast, sad that there was nothing it could really do. At least the floor of this cave looked soft, covered as it was in a strange green plant-like substance. "Rest, sleep, will heal with time," it squeaked, although it was secretly doubtful its friend would ever walk properly again.

Laying down on the moss, the rat closed its eyes and dreamed. It dreamed of a large cavern, bigger than anything it had ever seen. It dreamed of strange clusters of rocks, that seemed almost to have been carefully put into their places, as though laid out by a very tidy-minded cave in. Some of the rocks were covered in the same green moss it had seen in the cave. The rat had the feeling it was being watched.

There gaps in the rocks that led to tunnels. Tunnels wound and twisted, leading through open areas and chambers that smelled of dust and time. After some time, that may have been a few minutes or an eternity, the rat found itself in a large open courtyard. That watchful presence was at its strongest in this place.

"Why are you here?"

The voice came from everywhere and nowhere. It spoke with an air of curiosity, as if it had discovered something unexpected but not necessarily unwelcome. The rat thought for a while before it decided to settle on the truth.

"Do not know. Strange place. Talking without voice," the rat replied. "....would like to know."

The Fortress of Moss was ancient and inscrutable, yet those with divine senses might have picked up the faintest trace of amusement in the voice that echoed along the timeless ruins.

"You have chosen well. Return to this place in sleep and you might know many things in time. Wake, little one, with my blessing."

The rat started and looked around at the chamber it had fallen asleep in. The moss lining the floor felt reassuring and experimentally the rat flexed its muscles. The pain had gone! It rose up on its hind legs and in the gloom of the cavern, it looked down at itself. Its fur had changed, becoming shorter, thicker....greener? It looked almost the same as the moss it had slept on.

It would return here tomorrow and maybe find many new things to know.

Spoiler: AP Expenditure:

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Create Advanced Concept: Mosspeaker (2AP): The Mosspeakers are rats that have developed a close affinity with the moss now growing throughout the tunnels and caves of Tanglenest. The initial Mosspeakers were rats that were injured in Nemesis' attack on Ilainthos and after resting with the chambers where the moss grew, found that their dreams took them to the Fortress of Moss. As they walk through it, they listen to what it tells them of the past and the present. They learn about the world around them (in an easy to understand version, nothing overly complicated) and their communication is now close to that of an intelligent human. They serve as elders and guides for the other rats but at present lack any form of "magic". Their "fur" is very similar to the moss itself, feeling much like normal rat fur to the touch but in appearance and colour much more moss like. When a Mosspeaker reaches the end of its slightly lengthened life, it will travel to the physical embodiment of the Fortress of Moss and sleep for the final time amongst the ruins.

****

Of Mice and Mer

Tamesis understood, or at least thought she did, well enough. She places her free hand upon her chest. "Tamesis" Then, she mimics the motions for sleep, then points to the ocean. Then, she makes the motion for swimming. She points to the light overhead, and motions it going over the horizon. She repeats this three times. Then, the large gesture around herself. "Mer." Her explanation done, she looks back at the creature in her hand, and tilts her head inquisitively towards the ocean. Would it like to come visit?

The Wandering Rat squeaked approvingly. This "Mer" and itself were understanding one another. This creature lived in the water rather than tunnels and caves and it would certainly be very interesting to learn about this place where they had their nest. The rat turned to look at the ocean, the waves reaching out toward the beach they stood on. There was rather a lot of water and while rats could swim through the tiny stream and pools that occasionally flowed through Tanglenest, it was unsure if could swim as far as the Mer could.

"Squeak?"

****

Of Mice and Murder

The hagfish slowed her swim and twisted her eel-like shape to face the king and his new prisoner. She swam closer until Looloodi could perhaps almost feel the slime that Eniym wore like a second skin. Perhaps it even dripped down. Probably not an onslaught, but a tiny speck. Was it to remind her of her degradation or an accident - even Eniym was not sure. In any case, she addresses the King in Iron.

My name . . brrlplop . . . is Eniym

And in this instance, she had decided to don the trappings of royalty to gain the King's respect

I am the Queen of Storms.

Almost as if trumpets blaring but certainly by chance there was a thunderclap.

I had come to you with a message between Royals, but it seems that . . brrlplop . . . the message has now become moot. Instead, from the words of your new pet, I know that another is seeking you. When you burned the tree this one grew fearful and angry. And yet when you burned the ocean another grew aroused. Your sister . . brrlplop . . . said you would never know pleasure but it is not so, someone has fallen in love with you with such fiery passion that she has convinced herself that you are to be destroyed. She will hound you and try to crush you . . brrlplop . . . secretly hoping to submit.

At this point, Eniym looked at Looloodi

The one I speak of is the Queen of the Oceans and the Salt therein, she is the . . brrlplop . . . sister by the bond of this one, and she will come with the rest of them. She, however, will not try to rescue you - she will be jealous of your relationship with the King in Iron.

And she turned to Nemesis again

As Queen of the mercurial storms I wish to warn you . . brrlplop . . . that women are more unknowable than the skies. I have come to . . brrlplop . . . wish you fortune.

It was at this point that the black sand of the beach fountained up into the air, the hard volcanic stone beneath splitting into chunks and crashing down along the shoreline and into the pool of water the two goddesses had been enjoying only a short while earlier. A sandstorm obscured the crater for a few moments, before clearing just enough to reveal the crazed, nightmarish features of The Nameless Rat.

Blood streamed down its face and snout from where it had battered through the bedrock and the rat violently shook itself to clear the blood away from its eyes. It screamed the same terrifying cry it had made when it first caught the scent of the being that had attacked its home and slaughtered so many of its people. It sniffed the air, the beautiful rainbow scent of Looloodi meaning as little to it as the strange alien scent coming from the floating fish creature. There was only one scent it sought after and it slowly turned its head toward the source of it and the Nameless Rat's eyes bored into the King of Iron, the fires of murder burning deep within them.

[Draken]

Tafeita: The Fortress of Moss

The Fortress of Moss... such a strange creature. Tafeita still couldn't help but feel flattered that her children and those they helped seemed to hold her in such esteem, even though she'd done so little for them. Though for some reason the idea of tales written about her filled her with an odd sense of foreboding. It was probably nothing.

"Whether it is your name or not I greet you, Fortress of Moss," the Hearth Goddess replied, stating it more as a name followed by a place rather than a title or an object. "I thank you for your kind words. I cannot say whether what they have said is true or not, but I gave life to the kobolds and sent them to aid the halflings. I taught them to sow seeds from the land, and build dens upon flat earth. I gave them the ability to bear great numbers of children and a desire to spread across the world. Beyond that I have done little for them. ...may I ask a question of my own?" she went on hesitantly. "You say that you keep hold of the old so that they can be returned. That seem admirable. Yet your moss seems only to consume the still new to spread itself further. How does that further your cause? I have done things that are frivolous or wasteful," she admitted. "Yet I could not imagine making something that is actively detrimental to furthering my view of this world."

The presence shifts, Tafeita will have to move to follow the murals.

Moss is vegetation, a plant. Like grass it grows, like fungal storms it spreads its spores. I gave it the means to puppet the dead as it lacks the hands and feet with which to move, and it would have been cruel to puppet the living, and complex to puppet things that move by other means, that is a trick we have only learned recently.

As for the bloom, it is honestly not my doing. Stone blessed the moss after the flames came from the north and made it grow faster in the heat. But there was lava all over the deeper tunnels, and this followed. Although I will admit I do not regret expanding my reach. There is much out there beyond the First Land we raised and stretched.

Any thing that lives, given the means, will grow beyond control. Plant or animal, so it has happened. It is a lesson to recall. On the value of predators, perhaps, and more.

The Fortress appears to not mind the slimes then.

What is your view for the world?

----------

Murderous Rodents

Moss steadily follows the wake of the Nameless Rat.

[RolandDeschain]

Selima

With a simple gesture and inclination of her head Selima communicated with Janika that she should follow. The green goddess, however, was engaged with business of her own and the Desert Maiden did not tarry to ascertain as to whether or not her invitation had been accepted.

For the first time in her young existence Selima's heart knew despair for it wasn't merely that the light of Ilianthos had faded, but the great tree itself was wounded and scarred. The white-hot liquid fires of her gown dimmed, reduced to a pale flicker of feeble light as she searched for the nymph of the Dawnfly. In the distant night sky her eyes settled upon Ilystear, and though she knew not the story of its incarnation, she recognized her Sister's pain and her fires were rekindled.

Turning sharply at Marah's proclamation of woe upon this defiler, he who would lay hands upon their sister Looloodi, her visage grew fey and malevolent. Her gown burned a sickly and malignant amber-hue. She had no words, only a feral scream as she flamed across the darkened sky following the trail of moss.

Her heart overtaken by darkness, she neglected the Dawnfly nymph....her second careless betrayal. The poor creature withered and waned, but did not die, rather becoming a pale reflection of what it had once been - its life fire greatly diminished.

While The First Land grew cold during its first night, the rest of the world suffered worse still. Where the seasonal turns of the cycle of years had once been mild - autumn and winter a short respite of harvest and dormancy yielding ever to the vibrancy of spring and high summer - now the life-giving warmth of the world plunged precipitously and blankets of heavy snow were driven across the Shattered Lands on boreal winds.

[neriractor]

Daghir and the First speaker

Janika, Daghir and the archons.

His cover shed, he stood static, She had surely seen him. it was not the right time, and he couldn't run, thanks to his archons who so carelessly spoke ahead of him, his temper flared to the sound of razor leaves, he should unmake them. The thought hanged in the air before it actually elicited a response; surprise, shame and a hint of fear of what'd been if the words were made manifest as they often did.

A deep breath shook the sea around him, crashing waves seemingly fighting over usurping their fallen eldest; this must end

Ominous wind shattered the archon's wait for a reply from the godess, the elemental mayhem and jungle of the first land joining the tempestuous form of the Daghir until it was the size of Janika, renewed with leaves and mush and fire to its name. The swirling shape stoppping eye to eye to she who had never failed "Hi" it was more than he thought he'll muster.

Warlords in the Caldera

"It had been half a dozen generations..." Thus said the sages when teaching the myth of the Queila, and they pantomimed by the hearth fire. From the moment that Miwa was born he had heard this and others, the countless fights amidst the gods; those of fire, who made the moss grow strong and kept them warm, she who created them her mate and the prodigious family that ran straight to him; then the gods of their winding maze of a habitat, who kept them safe and lifted the beast's wind, yet chased the fire and instilled a cold that killed. This time the story was special, muweil was born, and he embraced the youngling as she slept through this tale for the first time.

"...A time, when our people were chased into the mountains, by the coiling devils. And the vigilant dead shattered our bonds as lighting on a mighty tree, trunk was intact..." The goblin looked in silence, disciplined as little of their race was, his skin showed the scars from before he was compliant. The siblings played merrily, building structures out of polished blocks, the awed Muweil trying to mimic Miwa's blessedly sturdy structures.

"... And we withered in the solitude, with families afraid of venturing for food if they lost the sight of home, but the great Tholtec came, and saw the paths that the wind and the dead had laid for us..." Miwa stared pointedly at the shades that flew past outside their lodgings, as he was prone to do. His father scolded him severely as well, as he was prone to do. The matters of administration was not something he wanted, but such was his call "even if you haven't heard it" as his father used to say. An unknown voice screamed for his father, and the elder halfling called enraged for her daughter with the thunderous voice reflecting many times along the house. A mounting falcon flew past the window and Milwa shared a brief smile with his sister. It was too bad his father had grown wary of her mimicry but at the very least it was a distraction.

"...and as the mountains gave to his might, he carved us homes and sought our strayed kin so they too may taste victory upon our foes..." The wind gnawed at her skin as the night took form, a single loolodite hung on her neck by thick strands, most would be overjoyed about such a gift but not her... Such was the sign of high priesthood, and she would wish it all upon her worst enemy is she had any, her father was almost senile, there was no other cause to condemn her to a life of looking at the stars and helping children to nod off with stories of unfathomable bore. She cursed the wind below her and patted her falcon, qui, to a shriek of approval. she heard the wind curse back as only it could.

"... Time and again he used cunning to eradicate the tide of fanged filth, luring them to the mounts we made ours and trouncing them most definitely, so that they learned their place. And our flock flourished as it never had before, our warriors chase the cowed enemies, trained our predators and the fire and storm blessed us at every turn, we are the Queila and you carry the flame of Tholtec in your heart child, honor his legacy""don't worry" Said Miwa, and Muweil stood for a moment, as she finished strapping their captive to qui, it was just like him; she smiled faintly and answered with a steady "sure".

The brothers flew into the night, the task was easy enough and completely out of bounds, had their father's mind not become muddied with age. A tribe of goblins had grown big and bold in the recent years, and the young warriors took it upon themselves to scare them off. Qui and Ahlit (Miwa's falcon) stood on a strong branch, silent as the night, the tribe was near enough, as they could tell by their fires but they weren't suicidal enough for a direct assault. They trailed four as they split further to their encroachment, then they threw the lure: Splats-gruesomely did as her parents predicted, and the split party couldn't help but search, the slings were a formality as rocks fell from the trees against them, they took a couple of pieces today and left the corpse pile for the goblins to see, may they fear the dark.

The windy maze had gotten colder as the world did, the threat of frostburn realm as the night went, they found a cave outside the Queia dominion, set a light and rested, or at least Miwa did. Muweil was as the dead vigilant yet silent, she didn't know how long she'll been staring at her brother with anger unconcealed, she tried to remember when last she had enjoyed his company, when last they has laughed and she was sincere but all she could find was bile and frustration; loved relinquished and injustice, betrayal and favor, and Miwa had to see as well, or either be ignorant of all plight, and that would not stand. She pondered through the night, and as the sun rose broke, along with her brother's skull.

It took but a rock upon it and it stood as strong as an egg would have,Ahlit woke and put up a fight but it was outnumbered and heartbroken, it didn't stand a chance.

She felt exalted for a moment, then nothing. As she rode Qui her legs trembled, and she second guessed for the first time. Memories she couldn't find were flowing freely through her and she threw up digested moss and bits of goblin. She stopped her flight without thinking and upon a familiar rock she stood, an Echo speaking as if her very presence had startled it "don't worry" she dropped to her knees and wept wildly for the last time, as she would not allow it, not anymore. It was her carrying the flame of Tholtec and she would honor his legacy, forged in bloodshed as it was.

Spoiler: AP

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-2AP create society, The Queia kingdom: A union of many halfling tribes making their living in the windy maze surrounding the caldera, masters of finding their way through the by design unintuitive landscape, power is as centralized as it can be, given the rough terrain and weird borders of their kingdom even if the taming of fast warhawks allows for fast arrival of messages; and state affairs are lead by a monarch chosen from the blood of their founder: Tholtec . The Queia avoid open conflicts, using superior mobility and natural defenses to assert dominance over the nearby tribes and fuel the servant caste, mainly for the rough work of excavating their mountain homes. A priestly caste covers the spiritual needs with a pantheonic religion formed on the two neutralish groups of gods related to fire and wind. Festivals include:

* the great hunt: in which children and adults both don masks and play hide and seek through the nearby maze in mimickry of Tholtecs earlier battles.

Da Fai's home: in attendance to the gods, people will Fast in their door's home until late night, generally guided by a local priest, when the morning is about to come a great heart is fed in every household, and a magnificent feast (by each houses' standard) and spent the next day replenishing energies in whatever way they may please. [War (skirmish) 3/10][War (skirmish) 3/10]

Pardon any mistakes, writing this sort of posts on my phone is hell

Edit: reminder to myself to actually edit it someday.

[Anubis Dread]

Spoiler

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[QUOTE=Draken;23739584]The presence shifts, Tafeita will have to move to follow the murals.

Moss is vegetation, a plant. Like grass it grows, like fungal storms it spreads its spores. I gave it the means to puppet the dead as it lacks the hands and feet with which to move, and it would have been cruel to puppet the living, and complex to puppet things that move by other means, that is a trick we have only learned recently.

As for the bloom, it is honestly not my doing. Stone blessed the moss after the flames came from the north and made it grow faster in the heat. But there was lava all over the deeper tunnels, and this followed. Although I will admit I do not regret expanding my reach. There is much out there beyond the First Land we raised and stretched.

Any thing that lives, given the means, will grow beyond control. Plant or animal, so it has happened. It is a lesson to recall. On the value of predators, perhaps, and more.

The Fortress appears to not mind the slimes then.

What is your view for the world?

Tafeita: The Fortress of Moss

Tafeita glared at the water, so shallow to some but so deep to her. She considered evaporating it for a moment, before reluctantly concluding that would be rude. So she plunged into the icy cold liquid, doggy paddling along to keep up with Fortress's words.

Which in all fairness may well have been worth the discomfort. Despite its unnerving aura and seemingly opposing elements they were fascinating in a way. She'd thought much the same at times, in her own way. The world was as it was. To change it overmuch would be wrong, and not just because it wound anger the other gods. She also sought to spread her children across the world, and longed to have them grow. Yet at the same time...

"I don't think growing is the important part," Tafeita mused, finding her stride enough to keep her muzzle above the water. "Nature expanding is a good thing, but only because it benefits the children of the world. Them growing is good too, but only if doing so would make them happy. That's what is truly important I think. To bring children to this world, teach them to care for themselves, and ensure they have the tools to make their own happiness. As well as jumping in when they need a stronger hand to shield them from the evils of the world," she admitted. "I suppose the part I find confusing and somewhat unnerving about your moss is not that I can't comprehend putting so much effort into something that..." she blushed, looking away for a moment "well for want of a better term something that cannot love you. Or itself, or anything else for that matter. People, thinking people who can speak and love and live, deserve to exist. And they deserve to have that existence be as safe as is reasonable, and as happy as they can make it. That's what I think."

[TheDarkDM]

Nemesis

The claims of the floating goddess were mad. That any of their number would be moved by the fates of a handful of mortals, much less to naked violence, seemed beyond the pale. And yet, his recent prize had reacted with violence first over a blind grievance. Perhaps this Marah was a simple creature, ruled by animal passions above all else. It would certainly explain the rest of Eniym's tale.

"Well met, Eniym, and welcome again to Karam-Kor. Your travels have clearly taken you far, and your insight is appreciated. However, you need not concern yourself - if she is sister to this blossom, then I have taken their measure. There is little to fear..."

He paused, eye drawn away from Eniym's languid gyrations and towards the midnight beach. The sand shuddered to a foreign heartbeat, and as he watched something furious and feral burst free of the earth's embrace. It was unlike anything Nemesis had yet encountered, but its mien was reminiscent of his own divinity.

"A moment, Eniym. It seems I have visitors without end."

He stepped between the hunched thing and Looloodi's bower, a hand raised in greeting.

"I would have your name, creature, if you are to set foot upon my land."

[Razade]

He'd promised.

It was a terrible idea, but he couldn't say no to her. Big, brown eyes like hot chocolate and lips that said words like a potter molds clay. He'd been a sucker for her since their professor introduced them over thirty years ago. He'd been younger then but age had a way of distilling things, crystallizing them, a crucible like the one that sat on his desk merrily bubbling away. She'd fallen sick, a consumption deep in her lungs gained from some far off island that floated in the sky.

Those islands hung outside his window now. They'd moved over those thirty years. Some said they were the curse of a God, some Fox Lord that dared to steal the Pantheon's ancestral land away. Some a Rabbit, born of bloody lust who trampled the long shattered continent in search of iron to make more weapons of war. Others still an owl, jealous of its brothers and sisters in the Pantheon, who took the land to make a roost before it was struck down. Whatever the reason, and he suspected it was no more divine than the planes or the various other old and distressed lands that dotted the globe, the lands were a blight. Nothing more. Storms raged upon them and the islands that floated in the sky...he dare not dwell on the venom they produced. All it did was remind him of those beautiful eyes, rheumy now from the infection.

But he'd promised.

He'd stayed by her side, the infection was slow. He'd watched for years as it ate away are her, replacing her milk white flesh with mottled green and brown, her eyes turning sallow and unfocused before filming over completely. The physical changes he could have handled, he'd worked with cadavers and worse in dark laboratories long before his studies with the infection, he'd seen the walking dead, he'd gazed upon the devils and demons from The Cacophony. He'd even had chance to walk in that realm of Elemental Chaos, the visions haunted him still. But none of it had prepared him for the worst of the infection. The voices. The dreams.

She wasn't the first to contract it. On the contrary there were races that willingly subjected themselves to the Green as so many called it. The goblins were the first, as far as their records showed but many and more fell to it. They'd cut contact with any race they felt had become too infested, burned their ships and bodies but that only helped the spread. The Green was insidious like that, the flames only made it grow stronger, faster. The coasts fell almost instantly after the first fires. Their airships were next, she'd been on the last of them, had a resistance to the Green or so he guessed. It was a full three years before she began showing the signs. Others followed suit. The Green had grown. Had become smart. They'd heard stories that the Green was more than just some bacteria or parasite but with its high infection rate few had documented its root cause. When she showed the first signs, he'd put her in quarantine. He'd promised her that he'd cure her.

"I know you will my love."

He'd contracted it too, with every cough more moss came forth. It was a race against the clock through sucking mud. He chronicled each stage as they overtook him, when he was able. He had taken to using the milk of the red moon to dull the pain that welled up inside him. To quite the voices. To silence the dreams. It had been years since he'd gone to her but he could always hear her voice. Taunting, pleading, cajoling. She was a demon and an angle. Ever mocking their promise, their life, their fate. But hers was not the only voice. There was something else within The Green. Something Divine. He'd come to know it, intimately. She'd been jealous but even this seemed an act by some grave mind deep within the infection. It had a name once but it had dropped it, The Rat and the Raven and so many others had come and together they were something new. Something different. Something powerful enough to unify the world. Before the milk, he'd heard all of their voices. Deafening, he'd almost lost himself.

It pushed him, that voice, dragging him to a cure he knew well enough he'd never reach. The last vial sat over a burner, the crucible burnt black from the heat. The Green could survive direct heat, it made it stronger, made it grow. A defense mechanism it had learned from the Raven. Fire was its fear once but no longer. Fire fed it forever now and the world would be engulfed first in flame and then in verdant forests when the ashes settled. He saw it clearly, dreamed it as his nose filled with smoke. There was no race, no time, no hate, no freedom in this evergreen world. There was only The Greenscape and it alone was whole. In the flames he saw her, dancing as she had all those years ago. She wore a green dress that hung to the floor and from her frame. Had she always been so frail? He could hardly recall, too many memories of too many men and too many dances that all vied for his attentions. They shared the memory together and with a jolt he was awake.

There was no window, no walls. He hung in a tree, a small goblin once but now merely one with the Green. He'd never had a woman with eyes like dark oak or a voice as clear as crystal glass. But it mattered not, for he was part and parcel with the Green and the memories belonged to him just as much as they had a doctor who lived and died seeking a cure when it had always been before him. In the end, the little goblin remembered. He'd walked up the stairs where he had once chained his beloved. She was frail like in the dream but the Green provided nourishment enough. He lay with her and let the Green wash over him.

He'd kept his promise. He'd cure her, with his own mind within the Green...she was cured. She was no longer as lonely as she had been, waiting all those years for him to come.