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  1. - Top - End - #241
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    Draken's Avatar

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

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    [QUOTE=Anubis Dread;23740042]
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    Quote Originally Posted by Draken View Post
    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?
    Quote Originally Posted by Draken View Post

    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."


    There is a click in the walls and the sounds of pulleys and great machinery, and the water begins steadily draining, it is still there, but Tafeita should be able to walk now.

    The Fortress has learned a trick or two from Tenebreon.

    I am what I am, and that is nothing too kind, nor particularly demanding of those around me. Selfish and selfless in equal measure. Moss is my tool, in this I am like Tenebreon who lives that way.

    There aren't really any directions given. But Tafeita can feel the presence shift in the direction of the Umbral Laboratories before returning to normal.

    I would think many of us who come from beneath are like this. Fond of things, fond of ideas, not really so keen on the lives of others. I mostly meddle when those lives end, to make it so that they will not be forgotten. And that if any ever wish, I will have their stories to tell, or their bones to show, ideally both. Maybe in an inscribed box, or ashes in an urn. A token of a time long gone. This land straddles on such things.

    The tunnel ends into a large cavern, bearing the ruins of some primitive society of halflings and kobolds, they must have died centuries ago, and their settlement was swallowed by an earthquake. Glowing moss illuminates it all in a fashion equally eerie and solemn.
    Last edited by Draken; 2019-02-28 at 03:28 PM.
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  2. - Top - End - #242
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    RedKnightGirl

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

    Tafeita: Tomb

    The world below was significantly more interesting than she'd imagined. Multiple gods dwelled within it, creations spread across it and in general it was lacking compared to the world above only in that the world above had had more divine attention. Even the irritants could be easily overcome, Tafeita mused as she shook herself dry. Perhaps she should spend more time down here herself? Ah, but then she could not spend the time spreading her children and taking back the Caldera. On the other hand dwelling on that particular subject had given her no end of worries and stress. Perhaps she needed something new to clear her mind before she could continue forward? And anything she created down here would be far safer than anything above, if only because they had to worry about earthquakes only rather than both earthquakes and storms, and nothing else lived making conflict with living things impossible.

    Then she was shown the dead village. And though her heart panged at the loss of her children, she understood why she was of above rather than beneath.

    "I don't think I could ever think like that," Tafeita admitted, slowly padding among the ruins of the village. "Life is the ends and means, the purpose and the way to achieve that purpose. A world without life, true life, is no world at all. Just a rock filled with baubles and old bones." The beast hopped onto an overturned vase, idly balancing on it as though it were a ball. "You see this village and you see something to preserve. Something of value. I do not. I feel loss at the sight of the dead, but their bodies? Their works? Their ideas? They hold no meaning to me, except that they may have passed onto the living somewhere else and made their lives better. If the entire world were to be destroyed this very instant I would be enraged beyond measure, and mourn for an age, but I would likely try something new rather than try to recreate or preserve the old. Once something no longer lives it's... well that's it, it's a thing then. And things only have value if you assign value to it, as opposed to thinking life that always have value because they can give it to themselves."

    The goddess sighed. Was she strange, for clinging to the past so loosely? Or was Fortress of Moss strange for holding it in such high regard? Was life itself worth upholding, or was it no more meaningful than the undead animated by moss? She knew what she felt, but thinking she was right wasn't the same as being it. "Despite how little I can value what you hold dear I can appreciate your efforts," she tried to assure the god. "It doesn't harm others, and you clearly try hard to do what you feel is right. I can respect that immensely."

  3. - Top - End - #243
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    Default Re: (IC) Lords of Creation: The Grateful and the Odious (LOC)

    [Tafeita and The Frotress of Moss]

    If we all had the same thoughts, some of us would be quite superfluous. I can't imagine I would enjoy it much if there were another god inching on my work, I can only see such a thing going poorly.

    The presence flows along the ruins, there are no bodies strewn about, the caretakers were true to their name and lined the bodies in well ordered alcoves somewhere. Where the presence flows, ahead of Tafeita, the moss lights up in a road, eventually leading to a tunnel that surely leads back up and out.

    You asked of Marah when you arrived, did you not? I can see her among the roots of the great tree Ilianthos, besides the desert maiden, Selima. This tunnel will lead you there, if you like. But be warned that conflict brews in their path, should you have no wish to partake.

    Has Tafeita truly walked so far underground that she has gone from the Caldera all the way undersea and to Ilianthos? Maybe The Fortress of Moss has learned a trick or two from a rat.
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  4. - Top - End - #244
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    RedKnightGirl

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

    Tafeita: The Broken Tree

    Ah, but to be as open minded as Fortress of Moss. Tafeita would very much like it if other gods thought the same way she did. Then again, Fortress was rather safe from interference down in the depths of the world. He might reconsider that opinion if the differences of the other gods caused them to meddle in his works.

    "Selima huh? That'd be everyone but Loolodi. Perhaps they're having a party," the Hearth Goddess chuckles, nerves in her voice. Truth be told if conflict awaited then it was far more likely they were girding themselves for war. Which despite her own feelings she'd be honor bound to participate in. She wasn't sure how she felt about that. She doubted any battle they waged would be unjust, and yet... a battle was unjust by virtue of simply existing. Sometimes it was less so than the alternative. That didn't mean she looked forward to it.

    Tafeita knelt down on her front paw. "Thank you for your help. Maybe I'll make something down here sometime to show you the true value life has," she offered, before racing up the tunnel.

    It was surprisingly short. Of course length held little sway when ones speed was 'as fast as one wished, reality be damned', but it was still something to note. It felt like barely an instant before the goddess emerged from the roots of the great tree, right by a pair of goddesses. Which she would have paid more attention to at least acknowledge who they were if the entire tree wasn't dark and twisted. "What."

    ...in retrospect, perhaps she should avoid spending quite so much time underground in the future.

  5. - Top - End - #245
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    Default Re: (IC) Lords of Creation: The Grateful and the Odious (LOC)

    Marah: Fury of the Deep
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    Quote Originally Posted by RolandDeschain View Post
    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.

    Marah places a hand on Selima's shoulder, or as near to it as she can get. "We cannot let suffering consume us - we cannot become like Him." She gently touches one of the roots of Ilianthos "even in darkness," a blue-green light shines faintly beneath her hand "life will always shine through". All across the first world, the plant life glows faintly - its life force shining as dim light. Underwater plants glow to guide the Mer, Halflings and Kobolds hopelessly lose in the forests find light to guide them free, even Giants find their nightly journeys less treacherous.

    "See sister? Together, we are stronger; together, we can make a difference in this world." She points to the moss path, now faintly illuminated even beneath the waves around Ilianthos. "Come, let us meet Him."

    It was at that moment that Tefeita emerged from the roots, and Marah, her fancy words spent, could only respond with the first greeting: Hello.
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    -1PAP: Blessing - When All Other Lights... - Living plants exhibit bio-luminescence. The stronger their life, the greater the light, though no plant ever shines above dim light. Sphere (Light) 1/10



    Of Mice and Mer
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    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?"

    Tamesis gestures to herself and to the Wandering Rat, then makes the motion for swimming, and moves the small creature to her shoulders. I will swim for both of us. It would not be difficult to stay on the surface - slower, perhaps, but not difficult. Even with the darkening, she could guide by the ocean currents and the stars above; all Mer scouts could. She gestures to herself, and breathes in. Then the Rat, and nods while pointing off on the horizon. You can breathe in my nest. She hoped in came across. The logistics hopefully decided, she points toward the horizon and raises a questioning brow-ridge. Time to go?
    Last edited by Toxic Mind; 2019-02-28 at 08:13 PM.

    Marcus Caius, Astropath Trancendent by TheArchitect

  6. - Top - End - #246
    Firbolg in the Playground
     
    RedKnightGirl

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

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    [QUOTE=Toxic Mind;23742225]Marah: Fury of the Deep

    Marah places a hand on Selima's shoulder, or as near to it as she can get. "We cannot let suffering consume us - we cannot become like Him." She gently touches one of the roots of Ilianthos "even in darkness," a blue-green light shines faintly beneath her hand "life will always shine through". All across the first world, the plant life glows faintly - its life force shining as dim light. Underwater plants glow to guide the Mer, Halflings and Kobolds hopelessly lose in the forests find light to guide them free, even Giants find their nightly journeys less treacherous.

    "See sister? Together, we are stronger; together, we can make a difference in this world." She points to the moss path, now faintly illuminated even beneath the waves around Ilianthos. "Come, let us meet Him."

    It was at that moment that Tefeita emerged from the roots, and Marah, her fancy words spent, could only respond with the first greeting: Hello


    Tefaita: The Moss Road

    It was bizarre, seeing Marah for the first time. She was a complete stranger, yet the bracelet bound to her foreleg insisted she was a trusted friend. Not just a trusted friend, but one she could allow to rule her. Even if only in minor matters, and still leaving room for disagreement. It was creepy to say the least, but between her aura of friendliness and hear obvious actions to help whatever had happened to Loolodi's pride and joy it was an easy mental barrier to leap over.

    "Hello, Marah," Tafeita bowed her head, stepping towards the pair even as her neck craned back and forth to survey the damage to the tree. "I wish we could meet under better circumstances. What happened here? Wait, let's walk and talk," she amended, stepping forward onto the highway of moss. "Whatever happened it seems urgent to say the least."

  7. - Top - End - #247
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    Default Re: (IC) Lords of Creation: The Grateful and the Odious (LOC)

    Janika the Neverfail

    "So you finally see." Janika said in response, stopping just short of smearing Reaper-of-Souls against this place. "No need to bow to me. You proved your tenacity when we crossed fists." The big lumbering green gal was intrigued, which didn't happen often. "Made anew? This is the secret of that new power. You little pragmatist."

    "My own words that broke the silence? Now echoed back to me." Janika mused, pondering the new Archon creatures that had come up to her. This world was becoming more odd every day. Did these things come now that the light was missing? "Who are you? You who have plucked my words from space and carried them back to me to an unknown end."

    As the sisters departed, Janika watched after them, the race all but forgotten in the harsh darkness. Daghir appeared to her soon afterwards. "Greetings to you. Are you the master spoken about by this one, one whom has carried my words, or some other yet unknown beastie?" Greeny said, gesturing back to Reaper-of-Souls. "Curiosity demands that I find out the source of this darkness, tho it grows less every moment."

    Taking Selima's suggestion, Janika took off at a decent pace towards the Great Tree, Ilianthos, where light once lived. The sisters may be moving on along the path of moss but Janika could still see them as she approached the tree. She whistled in appreciation as the sight unveiled before her. Truly it was one of the greatest creations upon this world. It would take a legend to fell this tree. Perhaps that was why it was damaged and all now knew night. A new contender, trying to make a name for themself. The Queen of Games could respect that.

    They just made one mistake. This was her legend.

    Bonechewer Tribe, Darkest Simbani, The Darkest Day

    It had been a difficult hunting season even before the light left. The tribes leader or "Khan", Listens-to-the-Ocean, had been trying to keep moral up but the other tribes around had made things difficult. The Fleshspittle Clan had been slowly easing into their territory over the last few weeks at the behest of their Khan, Eats-Goblins, still fat over their victory over the Junglerunner Tribe. It was only this darkness that kept them back. Every clan considered it a bad omen.

    But for the Bonechewer Tribe this crisis brought a new hope. The tribe clung together out of desperation and were rewarded with a closeness few clans could achieve. In the long days since they had first acquired domestication from the slaves they conquered and the animals they took a new bond had formed. The local Hyenas were laughing and jittering scavengers but Listens-to-the-Ocean watched them and offered them stock from her meats. This seemingly insane action lead to a more permanent bond, and the Bonechewer tribe now relied on the Hyenas for their enhanced senses in tracking and hunting in the darkness.

    This proved to be a great advantage that allowed the Bonechewer Tribe to thrive and strike the Fleshspittle Clan at it's most weak. Friendship, it seemed, had made them stronger.

  8. - Top - End - #248
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    Default Re: (IC) Lords of Creation: The Grateful and the Odious (LOC)

    Selima, Marah, and Tafeita

    Marah's words and Tafeita's appearance did little to appease her ill-temper, and though she slowed to match their pace she spoke little. Her countenance remained one of genuine malice. She greeted Tafeita with a stilted nod, "Is good you've come."
    Last edited by RolandDeschain; 2019-03-01 at 10:55 AM.

  9. - Top - End - #249
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    Default Re: (IC) Lords of Creation: The Grateful and the Odious (LOC)

    Nasigune: The Great Tree


    Reaper-Of-Souls and Nasigune watch as the others pass the ruin by off to discover who had taken the light. "Follow them. We shall not be left in the dark." Together book and servant take off towards the great tree, only to realize that their path is blocked by water. After some quick searching of the coast, they discover a path underground which seems to lead under the ocean towards where the others had gone. Their journey was slowed greatly as they waded through masses of disgusting moss.

  10. - Top - End - #250
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    Default Re: (IC) Lords of Creation: The Grateful and the Odious (LOC)

    Atmospheric Mixology

    As the moss pervaded and paraded throughout the world mortals would constantly confuse it for the spores and fungi that rained down from the clouds. Moss though is not a mushroom of any type - not even a lichen - it is a flower. A very thin flower, but a flower - and one thing about flowers (not that the same could not be said about mushrooms, but alas) is that they wilt and die. But what happens when the flower dies, and another grows on top of it, and then that flower dies, and another grows on top of it, and then that flower dies, and another grows on top of it and so on and so on. The dead flowers get compacted into the soil, enriching it with their fallen blossoms. And this goes on and on until the soil becomes black as muddy as brown and brown and dark as black. In fact, this deposit pushes the soil down further taking its place like a changeling.

    And torpid storms push from the dangling mushroom forests below and touch ground in this waste of secret treasure - and the storms drag colonies of moss into the air and such turf with them, the very land being taken into the sky. The Cloudmires were an ideal place for the moss to thrive - but it wasn't alone. The Clouds were the domain of button caps and their court, it was the home of the angels. But in the swamps of the clouds were an ideal location for evolution - the same evolution that created the angels from the myriad of fungal species. The moss encouraged algae to bloom through the scum of the cloud mires and the algae and the mushrooms came to an agreement. And thus lichen spread. Lichen, regular old lichen, like the angels is an entity in cooperation. Whereas the angels were an amalgamation of thousands of mushrooms working towards the cause of consciousness, the lichen was the union of algae and two different fungal species working towards the goal of simply being. But enough about Lichen. the moss and the turf. . .

    And so the hurricanes and tornadoes of moss and soil, working backward from the deluges of fire and lightning that assaulted the first world deposited all this into the sky - and there it remained while lichen grew. There, however, quite seperatly, a miracle. Perhaps Eniym in her whims or perhaps chance, but the waters of the swamps filtered through some phlemy cloud and moss into some occasional pure streams. These streams, again, either through chance or Eniym's capricious actions, were mixed with mushrooms that resembled long reeds of wheat and barley, and the yeast in the air - cousin of Angels themselves - and then time. And thus pools of bubbling fermenting liquid developed among the cloudmires. These pools congregated within enclaves of the moss and turf that was brought into the sky - and then! The storms - lighting would race along the mushroom trails - sometime the dangling gardens would catch fire from the magma spewed by the angry clouds - and that fire would race along the lines of the mushrooms to surround these pools until the turf would catch fire.

    And this turf - made from dead flowers compacted over years was Peat - and the smoke - peat smoke - and the fermenting liquid would be arrested in its fermentation and would drain from one pool of the sticky cloud into another pool of such cloud, and develop into a dark honey colored clear liquid. This was the secret jewel of the clouds. Whiskey. Sometimes, in rare ocassions such whiskey would be freed from the clouds in a particluarly bad storm and the clouds would open with a sad squelch and rain this liquid gold upon the first land. Mortals would look into the sky and close their eyes and open their mouths for the smoky taste of this rare rain. They would go home happy that storm.

    Apart from this process, the lichen - like the mushrooms before them, developed and evolved and eventually contracted other mushrooms and lichen until it grew legs and arms. Unlike, its brother these creatures did not develop wings and were thus cloud-bound. They looked like human skeletons made of grass and moss - but instead of bones, it was lichen woven into helix structures that were as strong as iron. These were the lichen-liches. And while they could not fly like their angel kin they were sentient and intelligent like the wisest of mortals on the land below. Unlike angels that would only fully develop if they died and joined their kin the bureaucracy in heaven, the lichen-liches knew the world from the moment their sightless eyes (being made of lichen) first opened. While they could speak the language of the angels and the spores - if a mortal ever journey to the clouds they would find that the lichen liches would be able to speak their tongue.

    And as was said, the lichen-liches knew their purpose and that was to manage the treasure of the clouds. They became the keepers and brewmasters of the cloud-whiskey, ensuring the process continued, managed the fires of the peat, and even began to refine the flavor and taste of the various pools. As there was no such thing as a young or old lichen-lich they were all born equal and the same, each such entity was a master brewer and tender. They even began to organize, not rule (but certainly could seem that way) their brothers the angels and asked them to fly down to the ground below to grab more turf and moss if the clouds were lacking. And as such at least for some portions of the first land the onslaught of moss was moderately abated by scores of angels flying from the clouds with their hands forming into scythes and cutting down the moss to bring back into the sky for the lichen-liches to keep making their drams.

    Spoiler: AP Bookkeeping
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    8 AP

    2 AP - Create Sub Race: Lichen-Liches
    1 AP Curse - Moss over the First Land: to be sucked into the sky by the storms and converted into whiskey, in the complicated fantasy esque way described in the post. Angels too are coming down from clouds to essentially farm the moss.
    1 AP - Mundane Concept; Scotch/Whiskey

    4 AP
    Last edited by mystic1110; 2019-03-01 at 01:25 PM.

  11. - Top - End - #251
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    Default Re: (IC) Lords of Creation: The Grateful and the Odious (LOC)

    Marah: Fury of the Deep
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    Quote Originally Posted by Anubis Dread View Post
    Tefaita: The Moss Road

    It was bizarre, seeing Marah for the first time. She was a complete stranger, yet the bracelet bound to her foreleg insisted she was a trusted friend. Not just a trusted friend, but one she could allow to rule her. Even if only in minor matters, and still leaving room for disagreement. It was creepy to say the least, but between her aura of friendliness and hear obvious actions to help whatever had happened to Loolodi's pride and joy it was an easy mental barrier to leap over.

    "Hello, Marah," Tafeita bowed her head, stepping towards the pair even as her neck craned back and forth to survey the damage to the tree. "I wish we could meet under better circumstances. What happened here? Wait, let's walk and talk," she amended, stepping forward onto the highway of moss. "Whatever happened it seems urgent to say the least."

    Marah, Janika, Selima, Tafeita

    "One of our kin has taken it upon himself to destroy the creations of others, and attempts to supplant their will with his own." Marah says, with far more calm than she feels. "He has done something to Looloodi, and we are going to find out what, and punish those wrongs." Marah smiles, but it is a dark expression, without true joy and instead filled with the promise of vengeance. "I shall be a moment behind." she says, gesturing toward the moss pathway.

    Marah turns to Janika, having noticed the other goddess following. "You love conflict, yes? Join us in this, bring our wayward brother to heel. When it is done, perhaps you and I will talk; I have seen your creations from afar, and though we do not share much in philosophy, you create life, protect it in your own way, and do not seek to needlessly harm. These are tenants we hold dearly." Offer extended, Marah turns to her sisters and joins them upon the moss road. No more delays.




    Nemesis, Marah & Sisters

    Marah could have laughed. The Destroyer had clearly made no friends - one of the rodent creatures that her Mer had begun speaking to was here as well, this one with a spark of the divine to empower it. It was clearly outmatched, but it had kept Him here until they arrived, and for that Marah resolved she would thank its creator, when she found them.

    Marah announced her presence with some subtlety, for all her rage. With each pull of the tide, it receded
    more away from the shore. At first, it was barely noticeable, but quickly became obvious when many meters of the shore were suddenly dry and barren. It was then that Nemesis would notice the only water remaining, a single figure standing among the rapidly drying expanse of sand. "Destroyer. Anathema. Step away from Our sister, and perhaps you shall be shown mercy."

    Marcus Caius, Astropath Trancendent by TheArchitect

  12. - Top - End - #252
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    Default Re: (IC) Lords of Creation: The Grateful and the Odious (LOC)

    Looloodi: Unconscious Thoughts

    Dreams......Does a God dream? When one finally lays its head to rest, does it see visions of its past? Or flashes of the future? How does a Goddess knew she dreams when any fantasy she thinks can become a reality? Do they even realize they sleep until they wake? And who's to say that they weren't the dream? Some secret desire of a resting Kobold or dozing Goblin?

    Well, if she was dreaming, she would like a little more beauty than an an empty void. And if she was the dream, she would hope the silly mortal would dream a better dream. And so she waited, existing but not existing, unaware of the events happening so close. And she dreamed......
    Quote Originally Posted by Suzanne Collins
    Strange things did happen here, no stranger would it be if we met at midnight in the hanging tree


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

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    Quote Originally Posted by LordArgon View Post
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    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."

    "Some are mine." Tenebreon spikes another wraith on his blade, and the soul descends into the earth to be with other deceased Scholars of Stone. "Do they even want new bodies? You should really try asking first, before tormenting them with this half-existence. I will release them to their masters, as is right." Tenebreon opens his cloak, and a thicket of bladed clockwork arms burst out of it, slicing apart every wraith which did not worship Sololond in life and allowing their souls into the afterlife. "By the inner mechanisms of the land, I curse your servants, your thieves of souls. May weapons as mine cut them as surely as the river cuts the ground."

    Village of Silva Tenementum, in the darkness
    The Scholars of Stone have been spreading. Some distance from the capital city of Os Tenebris, Silva Tenementum is situated in a hardwood forest. Here, the Scholars harvested wood for their devices, and due to frequent Goblin raids, developed new and better weapons. When the cold and dark came, they retreated into the town. This was not like the blessed darkness beneath the ground, it was frigid and harsh rather than cool and welcoming.
    Then a new threat had arrived. The misty creatures carried off those Kobolds and Halflings who strayed off alone or in small groups. The militia rallied together, but their stone and wooden maces had no effect on the incorporeal wraiths, and they began to be dragged off as well. In desperation, the survivors retreated to the armory and armed themselves with the new, untested equipment. These were branches, bent and threaded with string, whose elasticity could be used to launch sticks bladed with obsidian shards. When the wraiths arrived, the Scholars opened fire. Their aim was miserable, but miraculously a few hit their marks, and even more miraculously, the obsidian glass arrowheads actually wounded the wraiths. Emboldened, the Scholars fired again, and again, and when the wraiths closed in, they lashed out with their arrows in melee. In the end, although a large portion of the village was taken by the wraiths, the Scholars of Stone drove off the undead menace.

    Spoiler: Actions
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    AP start 4/16
    Curse: Obsidian Vulnerability [Society (ingenuity) 7/10]
    Wraiths may be intangible, but they are no longer invulnerable to mortal weapons. Blades made from obsidian glass cut their bodies much more easily than they would cut creatures of flesh and blood.
    Create Advanced Concept: Archery (closed) [Society (ingenuity) 8/10]
    Teach Concept: Archery to the Scholars of Stone [Society (ingenuity) 9/10]
    The Scholars of Stone have developed the first missile weapons, giving them a distinct edge in both hunting and in war. Their defensive, creative mindset means that they aren't using them aggressively...
    Yet.

    End AP: 1/16
    Awesome avatar (Kothar, paladin of Tlacua) by Linkele!

    Quote Originally Posted by William Shakespeare, King Lear, IV.i.46
    'Tis the time's plague, when madmen lead the blind.
    My Nexus characters

  14. - Top - End - #254
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    Default Re: (IC) Lords of Creation: The Grateful and the Odious (LOC)

    Janika the Neverfail

    "It's who I am." Janika affirmed, and looked intrigued. A group of gods getting together, pooling power? Sounded like a cheap tactic for weak gods to get stronger.

    But if there existed no greater force than the gods than standing together would be more practical. The goddess of war remembered being outnumbered three-to-one and, though it may have been an equal fight, it would have been a scruffy win. In a world where she wasn't sure what would happen next if.. she did lose. What happened to a dissipated godspark?

    A god soul, a mortal soul. They didn't lie in the dirt.

    "Protecting life? Sure.. what else would I do with my time." The Lord of Murder chuckled darkly, allowing Marah and the rest of them to move along. She'd been surprised that the Ocean Goddess had come to speak to her. Janika wished to test the powers of the Ocean Goddess herself. Obvious power. It was immediately attractive to her. But it wasn't the time.

    Selima and Tafeita? So this was why they abandoned her contest. So many in one place. But if they had to stand together like this it meant an even greater force dwelt ahead. And Janika would only fight the strongest.
    Last edited by Deja Who?; 2019-03-01 at 04:17 PM.

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

    Quote Originally Posted by ChaoticHarmony View Post
    Looloodi: Unconscious Thoughts

    Dreams......Does a God dream? When one finally lays its head to rest, does it see visions of its past? Or flashes of the future? How does a Goddess knew she dreams when any fantasy she thinks can become a reality? Do they even realize they sleep until they wake? And who's to say that they weren't the dream? Some secret desire of a resting Kobold or dozing Goblin?

    Well, if she was dreaming, she would like a little more beauty than an an empty void. And if she was the dream, she would hope the silly mortal would dream a better dream. And so she waited, existing but not existing, unaware of the events happening so close. And she dreamed......
    Strange things indeed, a god and dreams but stranger still what rocks might fathom behind lidless, eyeless eyes.

    The dreamscape ripples and something very much like the presence of a God swells about the fallen Goddess of the Tree and with it the empty black void is filled with light. Tears fall from somewhere and nowhere and from them a world, vast and barren save water. The skies above turn as dark as lead and the waters freeze and rend and freeze once more until giant mountains and crags of dark ice pierce the skies. From their depths, skeletal spiders swarm, moving with mindless will too and fro and in the depths of the crystal clear ice vast tunnels filled with darker things can be seen. A dream, to be certain, but perhaps not a pleasant one.

    From the crags a palace forms, a vast glass cathedral that towers above all else and upon it a single figure. The source of that not quite Divine feeling, a body of stone worn and scrawled with graffiti by hands unmade. So too, does Looloodi find herself on the source of this blizzard nightmare. A factory of winter.

  16. - Top - End - #256
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    Default Re: (IC) Lords of Creation: The Grateful and the Odious (LOC)

    The Great Rat (featuring Nemesis, Marah)

    Of Mice and Murder

    It watched, hunched and ready to spring as the Destroyer moved away from the flower creature, all the while making strange, unintelligible noises. The Nameless Rat hissed, uncertain. The Destroyer was smaller than itself yet showed no signs of fear or rage, just a watchfulness. Why wasn't it fighting or fleeing? It didn't make sense!

    The Nameless Rat shook itself, trying to refocus and clear the doubts and frustrations from its mind. As it shook, something dislodged from the one of the clumps of fur from its back. The object tumbled down onto the black sand of the beach. It was the small body of a rat, charred and blackened, its paws twisted unnaturally as though they had been crushed. The Nameless Rat turned its gaze away from Nemesis and toward the small corpse. The rage slowly began to fade from its eyes, the fire on its tail flickering away to mere embers. Here on this strange, unknown land, the small body looked so isolated and insignificant, far from Tanglenest, far from the comforting light of The Great Tree. Alone. For the briefest moment, the eyes of The Nameless Rat glowed with a soft blue light and it reached out a paw to touch it – but the life had long fled the rat's body. It was dead. Burned. Killed. Murdered.

    Unfathomable rage flooded The Nameless Rat once more, the fire on the tip of its tail burning brighter and hotter than before, the red glow of its eyes shining like gateways to some otherwordly hell. It slammed into Nemesis and raked a taloned paw across his face, sending blood dripping into his eyes, blinding him. An obsidian foot drove into The Nameless Rat's underbelly, sending it flying across the beach and crashing into a rocky outcrop. Dazed, it returned to its feet in time to see a fist bearing down onto its skull.

    "You would seek to challenge me here, on the soil of MY land?"

    It was difficult to tell whether Nemesis was impressed with the creature's audacity or apoplectic with rage at the insult. Again and again he rammed his fist down onto The Nameless Rat, each blow yielding the sickening crunch of shattering bone.

    But The Nameless Rat had been watching carefully. With each blossom of pain, a pattern had begun to form.

    Slam...slam....sl-

    Its jaws snapped around, swifter than a lightning strike and fastened around The King of Iron's wrist. Obsidian cracked and began to shatter as the unholy material that comprised The Nameless Rat's jaws sunk deeper into Nemesis' arm. He bellowed in pain as an almighty twist of the rat's head severed his hand from his arm, sending both of them reeling backwards on to the dark and bloodstained sand. The hand fell from The Nameless Rat's mouth as it collapsed unconscious, its foe cradling his bleeding arm, when a voice echoed across the beach.

    "Destroyer. Anathema. Step away from Our sister, and perhaps you shall be shown mercy."

    Of Mice and Mer

    The Wandering Rat climbed on to the head of its new friend as the Mer waded into the ocean swell. The smell of the sea was strangely intoxicating, filling it with the urge to see all the ocean had to offer. Amazing new nests and creatures, new foods and scents to enjoy. It would have so many tales to tell when it returned.
    Last edited by The Succubus; 2019-03-24 at 07:38 AM.

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

    Nemesis

    Liquid iron dripping from the jagged stump of his right arm, Nemesis' pride was undiminished as he beheld the ocean goddess. The ceaseless glow of his heart began to spread towards the wound, divine blood congealing into the malformed suggestion of a hand as he made his reply.

    "Have none beyond these shores been blessed with courtesy? I am Nemesis, and you stand upon the shores of Karam-Kor. You name the Maiden of Light as Sister, but it was my strength that shielded her from this beast of the pit."

    A flare of embers rose from his injured arm as he gestured towards the insensate heap of the Nameless Rat, the creature's injuries near-indistinguishable upon its nightmarish bulk.

    "If you wish to make yourself a guest here, wave-rider, I would have your name."

    Lying forgotten on the beach, the fingers of Nemesis' severed hand spasmed in answer to his anger. And as the bleeding from his arm slowed, molten slag began to leak of its own accord from the hand itself. All too quickly, it began to take on a shape all its own.
    Last edited by TheDarkDM; 2019-03-01 at 06:26 PM.

    I was old when the pharaohs first mounted
    The jewel-decked throne by the Nile;
    I was old in those epochs uncounted
    When I, and I only, was vile;

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    Quote Originally Posted by apocalypsePast2 View Post
    ...one could possibly refer to you guys' elaborate dance of allies-to-enemies-to-suicide-of-the-universe as some sort of weird art form.

    If one were on drugs.
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    Behold, the mighty slayer of strangely coloured mutant equines! The thwarter of forum woes! The! Dark! DM!

  18. - Top - End - #258
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    Default Re: (IC) Lords of Creation: The Grateful and the Odious (LOC)

    - Selima -

    While her sister drew upon the coastal waters of Karam-Kor, Selima seethed - waves of acrimonious desolation roiling out from her and across the once beautiful shoreline. I will make of this place a destitute wasteland....

    Yet, she did not, nor did she speak. She stood silently next to Marah her gown of liquid amber fire and auburn hair fluttering lightly on sirocco winds.

    Catan

    Blizzards and freezing rain pounded the island continent of Catan, burying the great western forest and the dividing range. It was a winter unlike anything anyone had seen before, and the Settlers were ill-prepared....the crops that had been hastily harvested weren't nearly enough to sustain them for an extended time. The glacial cold weather soon took its toll on the livestock as well. The herds were decimated to the point that the Settlers were forced to bring what remaining stock they had into their houses least they all freeze to death.

    In villages and towns across Catan the Matron Mothers gathered in conclave, offering prayers and desperate pleas to the Desert Maiden. Though there was little relief from the cold and snow, deliverance from hunger and starvation came from an unexpected place.....mushrooms from the sky.

    Spoiler: AP Accounting
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    Beginning AP = 6AP
    Bless(1AP) - The mushroom rain of the Cloud Mires is a boon to all caracan. Mushrooms regardless of origin or toxicity to other species are considered a delicacy and are miraculously life-sustaining among the Caracan. When the storms pass over Settler society, caracan come from miles around to follow it and gather up all the spore and mushrooms in carts and wagons. Angels are particularly highly prized. Nary a mushroom grows upon Catan without drawing mushroom hunters from far and wide.

    Ending AP 6AP - 1AP = 5AP
    Light(Dawn) 8/10
    Life(Caracan) 8/10
    Last edited by RolandDeschain; 2019-03-01 at 09:51 PM.

  19. - Top - End - #259
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    Default Re: (IC) Lords of Creation: The Grateful and the Odious (LOC)

    Spoiler: Previously on LOC
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    Quote Originally Posted by bc56 View Post
    "Some are mine." Tenebreon spikes another wraith on his blade, and the soul descends into the earth to be with other deceased Scholars of Stone. "Do they even want new bodies? You should really try asking first, before tormenting them with this half-existence. I will release them to their masters, as is right." Tenebreon opens his cloak, and a thicket of bladed clockwork arms burst out of it, slicing apart every wraith which did not worship Sololond in life and allowing their souls into the afterlife. "By the inner mechanisms of the land, I curse your servants, your thieves of souls. May weapons as mine cut them as surely as the river cuts the ground."


    "You did not stop to ask them if they wanted to free either, you hypocritical headscarf. But as I had said before, the souls were of little concern. The bodies were what I needed and now I have enough. Behold my new body, my pathway to greater creations!" With a sickening squelch, the flesh and bones of the corpses flowed together into a new form. The massive creature stood at 360 feet tall. Its skin had the appearance of being one massive bruise. It stood upon two massive legs that ended at four clawed feet. Out from its body four arms jutted out. One pair of arms came from the shoulders, while the smaller set came from the middle of its back. On its head two curved, black horns jutted back at a 45 degree angle. Its three eyes opened, two beady, black ones where they would be found on a human, and one made of the abyss itself on its forehead. The new titan opened its toothy maw a spoke, "I am Mefthil, conduit of Sololonds divine will. Now tremble you moronic mantle, for I will pay you back for your curses and insults, just you wait." Mefthil then tears a hole in reality itself and heads to parts unknown.

    Spoiler: AP actions
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    AP: 0 + 4 rollover
    Actions:
    Create Avatar: (4AP) Mefthil, the Void Made Real
    [Chaos(Deformation)]
    New Total: 0 AP

  20. - Top - End - #260
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    Default Re: (IC) Lords of Creation: The Grateful and the Odious (LOC)

    Marah: Fury of the Deep

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    Quote Originally Posted by TheDarkDM View Post
    Nemesis

    Liquid iron dripping from the jagged stump of his right arm, Nemesis' pride was undiminished as he beheld the ocean goddess. The ceaseless glow of his heart began to spread towards the wound, divine blood congealing into the malformed suggestion of a hand as he made his reply.

    "Have none beyond these shores been blessed with courtesy? I am Nemesis, and you stand upon the shores of Karam-Kor. You name the Maiden of Light as Sister, but it was my strength that shielded her from this beast of the pit."

    A flare of embers rose from his injured arm as he gestured towards the insensate heap of the Nameless Rat, the creature's injuries near-indistinguishable upon its nightmarish bulk.

    "If you wish to make yourself a guest here, wave-rider, I would have your name."

    Lying forgotten on the beach, the fingers of Nemesis' severed hand spasmed in answer to his anger. And as the bleeding from his arm slowed, molten slag began to leak of its own accord from the hand itself. All too quickly, it began to take on a shape all its own.

    She laughs, a sound filled with derision, hatred, and scorn. "Courtesy? Did you show courtesy when you slaughtered my people on a whim, and ripped their knowledge from their desecrated souls? Did you show courtesy when you shattered the wards I grew myself beneath their land, allowing the cursed Moss to defile their kingdom? Did you show Courtesy when you burned Ilianthos; when you harmed its creator so greatly that it falters to this very moment? You have earned no courtesy, Destroyer." The waves that are Marah's form lash angrily, carving deep furrows in the sand with each angry gesticulation.

    "I am Marah, Tidecaller, Fury of the Deep, The Binding Embrace, and I will not speak it again: step aside from Our Sister, or you and your Karam-Kor will see the true wrath of the seas." Behind Marah, the horizon line has risen to a level that, where there a true source of light, its shadow would cover them all. As it was, the stars behind Marah were lost in an inky blackness. The wave held, impossibly still well past the point that it should have come thundering down, wreaking havoc across all in its path. The seas obey their mistress when she calls upon them.

    Marcus Caius, Astropath Trancendent by TheArchitect

  21. - Top - End - #261
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    Default Re: (IC) Lords of Creation: The Grateful and the Odious (LOC)

    Spoiler: Previously
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    Strange things indeed, a god and dreams but stranger still what rocks might fathom behind lidless, eyeless eyes.

    The dreamscape ripples and something very much like the presence of a God swells about the fallen Goddess of the Tree and with it the empty black void is filled with light. Tears fall from somewhere and nowhere and from them a world, vast and barren save water. The skies above turn as dark as lead and the waters freeze and rend and freeze once more until giant mountains and crags of dark ice pierce the skies. From their depths, skeletal spiders swarm, moving with mindless will too and fro and in the depths of the crystal clear ice vast tunnels filled with darker things can be seen. A dream, to be certain, but perhaps not a pleasant one.

    From the crags a palace forms, a vast glass cathedral that towers above all else and upon it a single figure. The source of that not quite Divine feeling, a body of stone worn and scrawled with graffiti by hands unmade. So too, does Looloodi find herself on the source of this blizzard nightmare. A factory of winter.


    Ugh....what a repulsively sad place, couldn't I have dreamed a better dream? Looloodi says.....thinks......dreams......She actually isn't quite sure what she is doing. She stares at the stone pillar sitting atop this strange, cold palace, somehow witnessing both as if far away and near at the same time. She knew instinctively that this......thing.....was Divine like her, yet unlike her in anyway. In every way at the moment really, as Looloodi didn't truly exist in this landscape. No body or form was made for her by the pillar of dreams, and she lacked the knowledge to make one for herself. Am I even still dreaming? Am I even still Alive? Was I ever Alive? Questions, spoken aloud in her head. She focuses herself, girding her mind to speak as she desired. Like, Who are you. What do you, like, want with me?
    Quote Originally Posted by Suzanne Collins
    Strange things did happen here, no stranger would it be if we met at midnight in the hanging tree


  22. - Top - End - #262
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    Default Re: (IC) Lords of Creation: The Grateful and the Odious (LOC)

    Daghir, and talking with gods

    Spoiler: Previously...
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    Quote Originally Posted by Deja Who? View Post
    Janika the Neverfail

    "So you finally see." Janika said in response, stopping just short of smearing Reaper-of-Souls against this place. "No need to bow to me. You proved your tenacity when we crossed fists." The big lumbering green gal was intrigued, which didn't happen often. "Made anew? This is the secret of that new power. You little pragmatist."

    "My own words that broke the silence? Now echoed back to me." Janika mused, pondering the new Archon creatures that had come up to her. This world was becoming more odd every day. Did these things come now that the light was missing? "Who are you? You who have plucked my words from space and carried them back to me to an unknown end."

    As the sisters departed, Janika watched after them, the race all but forgotten in the harsh darkness. Daghir appeared to her soon afterwards. "Greetings to you. Are you the master spoken about by this one, one whom has carried my words, or some other yet unknown beastie?" Greeny said, gesturing back to Reaper-of-Souls. "Curiosity demands that I find out the source of this darkness, tho it grows less every moment."

    Taking Selima's suggestion, Janika took off at a decent pace towards the Great Tree, Ilianthos, where light once lived. The sisters may be moving on along the path of moss but Janika could still see them as she approached the tree. She whistled in appreciation as the sight unveiled before her. Truly it was one of the greatest creations upon this world. It would take a legend to fell this tree. Perhaps that was why it was damaged and all now knew night. A new contender, trying to make a name for themself. The Queen of Games could respect that.

    They just made one mistake. This was her legend.


    The Archons flapped feebly, the gentle breezes of The Keep hardly straining as the first world did when their god dropped his attention for a minute. They pointedly ignored the whole mess with Reaper Of Souls save for the conversation being had. As much as the fungi scholars enjoyed the first-hand knowledge of a subject they only appreciated through grunts and theory, soon Dagloora-*magenta* and Pfft lrrr-*Azure* became interested in other less bloody business, the godess speaking to them for one thing...

    In a turn of the word that they overlooked, but some poet would one day recite triumphant: By touching earth for the first time, Angels had reached heaven. They replied as joyouss children, with haste and almost above eachother. The influence of Janika felt on their race for the first word "Dagloora *flashes color* First speaker""Pfft lrrr *flashes colour* Mistress Janika" , Pfft lrrr-*Azure* had lost but stood smug, The truename of Janika was almost never used amongst the keepers (or Daghir for that matter) and the Azure archon clearly thought the more personal adress would give it the upper hand. Yet satisfaction was lost soon as Dagloora-*magenta* took the following exchange on their hands and Pfft lrrr-*Azure* stood defeated, not willing to ruin the interaction through careless squabble and remained happy nonetheless, it was hardly everyday that it spoke with a deity who didn't create it for that purpose.

    "... We are master of echoes, Keepers of halls and pledged servants to Daghir, Sky whisperer. But most importantly, we are students of The sacred; of the word, as its own end. Your first words have served the same purpose for us as they did for the world. And as first speaker them and yourself are dearest to our god as they are to us as well, Will you give us deeper insight into them, or can we at least try to divine it as you increase the collection?"

    Daghir took some liberties when carrying Dagloora-*magenta*'s words, and his supposedly impressive display when increasing his body saw itself tampered by some oddly positioned pink leafs where his cheeks would be, which he quickly ran to the center. He scarcely had the mind for the gentle wind that carried his Archons to his side as he finally had a conversation with the first speaker. Didn't even cared that she had called him a beastie.

    "I am at least two of those, Though more importantly, as Dagloora and Pfft lrrr have said you may call me Daghir; I... already know your name, Janika" his body stared at the soil in pair with the last words before his attention was brought to the battered form of Reaper of Souls "We'll come with, if you don't mind the company." he had a slight idea of what caused the darkness, but knowing how all words fit in would be quite interesting at least he trusted the First speaker's instincts.

    And so the Archons and their master raced side by side with Janika, filled with a curiosity all their own as they explored the Brightest tree, the wordy angels taking mental notes of all phenomena they encountered as they continued talking, Daghir scarcely looked at the trick but to note the difference between the two divine forces within it. He picked up more moss along the way, with a smile, he could get behind conflict.
    Quote Originally Posted by Coidzor View Post
    Ah, yes, trolls, the monsters that are such wusses their primary means of reproduction is being eaten by other creatures.
    Quote Originally Posted by 5ColouredWalker View Post
    With all this talk of half dragon cohorts I may need to scrap riding a actual Dragon given how unoptimized it is.
    hey, order a gig here: https://www.fiverr.com/neriractor

    I would really appreciate it.


  23. - Top - End - #263
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    Default Re: (IC) Lords of Creation: The Grateful and the Odious (LOC)

    Janika the Neverfail and the Shores of Karam-Kor

    "Uhh.. what? Not really.. uh.." The goddess of stupidity replied dumbly and rubbed the back of her head to Daghir and his Archons inquires while they traveled, but they reached their destination before she could say much more.

    Janika whistled in genuine appreciation upon seeing the impressive form of the Nemesis. It was probably lost in the sound of waves and threats of justice. "Worth the trip." She had to add before doing a quick warm-up, flexing and stretching her muscles. "I have come far for this, and I think I should start by smashing that pretty face o' yours into that castle and see which one begs for mercy first. Probably you. You know what I mean? Fight me!"

    Spoiler
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    AP: 4

    Join Pantheon (1AP) - Sororitas
    Members: Marah, Tafeita, Looloodi, Selima, and Janika
    Leader: Marah
    Sphere: Life
    Motto: There is beauty in all things that flow from the love of life.
    [Loyalty (Family)]

    AP: 3
    Last edited by Deja Who?; 2019-03-02 at 11:49 PM.

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

    Selima

    As Marah summoned the unfathomable potency of the oceans Selima's gaze drifted from the enormous rat, the floating god-fish, and back to the iron defiler that named himself Nemesis. His malformed molten stump of a hand and the bloodied and broken rat-monstrosity told a tale of a great contest only recently ended. What's this about shielding Looloodi from this beast?

    Before she could call out for her sister, however, Janika strode upon the shores of Karam-Kor, her will made manifest not only by her challenge, but also by the dagger-shaped malachite stone that unexpectedly materialized on the Sisters' bracelets. One glance at The Neverfail revealed that she too was adorned in like fashion - pearl, diamond, imperial topaz, turquoise, and bladed malachite set upon coral links - in stark contrast to her leathers and furs.

    While Janika's intent was clear, and Marah's demand still rang in the air with latent fury, Selima silently seethed. Struggling to suppress her emotions she spoke plainly, "Marah, Tafeita, Janika and I...Selima, would know what goes on here. What harm has befallen our sister and were you the author of her pain?"
    Last edited by RolandDeschain; 2019-03-02 at 02:48 PM.

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

    Nemesis

    The response to Marah's demand was perhaps the last thing the assembled goddesses would have expected - he stepped aside. Waving his remaining hand to present the glittering bower where Looloodi rested, his attention slipped from Marah to her compatriots as further demands emerged. He seemed unsure as to who deserved a response first, living desert or bloodstained hunter, but in the end he turned to Selima.

    "At last, a proper introduction. It is my pleasure, Selima. Not long ago, I received a visitation from another of our kin, a gemstone songbird who came to me speaking of a Hall of the Titans and some great commotion unfolding there. It was only the second Lord of Creation I had encountered, after my sister Mamona, and I rushed to her side to present the curiosity. You see, the Songbird was divine and yet not divine, and its Hall of the Titans meant little to me. However, upon entering Mamona's resting place I found her...entertaining your sister."

    He inclined his head towards the insensate Looloodi, and the malformed stump on his right arm twitched.

    "She saw fit to attack me on sight. An unfortunate misunderstanding regarding my admiration for the Tree of Light, I learned afterwards. In that moment, though, she was quite beyond reason and I was forced to subdue her with the help of Eniym."

    His stump rose towards the oil-soaked goddess floating above them.

    "I will admit, sensing her lethal intent I was less than gentle. I surmise it was her defeat that led to the bright tree's temporary hibernation. But as tempers cooled, Mamona enlightened me to your sister's grievance, and I healed her wounds to repay my unintended insult."

    He shrugged with a smile.

    "Perhaps you could tell me her name?"
    Last edited by TheDarkDM; 2019-03-02 at 02:35 AM.

    I was old when the pharaohs first mounted
    The jewel-decked throne by the Nile;
    I was old in those epochs uncounted
    When I, and I only, was vile;

    Spoiler
    Show
    Quote Originally Posted by apocalypsePast2 View Post
    ...one could possibly refer to you guys' elaborate dance of allies-to-enemies-to-suicide-of-the-universe as some sort of weird art form.

    If one were on drugs.
    Quote Originally Posted by VonDoom View Post
    Behold, the mighty slayer of strangely coloured mutant equines! The thwarter of forum woes! The! Dark! DM!

  26. - Top - End - #266
    Troll in the Playground
     
    Nefarion Xid's Avatar

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

    Mamona
    Elsewhere


    The world was sodden, fetid, and brutal. The life of a wanderer ill suited Mamona, and in her brief tour of creation, she had found it disgusting.

    In her travels, she had encountered two titanic elementals. The first had tried to eat her and the second to mate with her. An orc had attempted both, then made startling progress in the construction of crude rhyming couplets as a softer approach to woo her. He was put from her misery and incinerated when he rhymed ‘best’ with ‘all the rest’. She was aware of the effect her beauty had on simple minded creatures, but such palitudes could not go unpunished.

    She had been rained on thrice. The first was water, the second semi-animate fungal sludge, and the third was obviously just grain alcohol. Somehow, being drenched in whisky was worse than being slapped in the bum by a suicidal growth of mushrooms, and at least the orc had announced his intentions upfront. It was inconceivable what natural phenomenon had led to alcohol pouring from the sky and she refused to investigate or chastise whatever god had decided this was a good idea.

    Mamona endured only long enough to set eyes on Ilianthos. As promised, it was the third most beautiful thing in creation, but unfortunately it still occupied a plane with everything foul. It would only get worse. Weather it was the giants marching across the planes or the omnipresent bog of moss and fungus going unchecked, this world was a disaster that was eating itself. Perhaps Looloodi would set things right. If the world was lucky, there would be many gods like sweet, simple Looloodi to fill the world with flowers and hold back the tides of war and muck. They would have to introduces themselves later; Mamona’s patience for this place had worn thin.

    Roaring golden flames consumed her once again. This time she departed not to elsewhere in creation, but from it altogether. She thrust herself deep down through incipient, primeval space and the universe shuddered in her passing. There, in the great yawning abyss beneath all things, Mamona began her great work.
    Last edited by Nefarion Xid; 2019-03-02 at 02:50 AM.

  27. - Top - End - #267
    Titan in the Playground
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    Default Re: (IC) Lords of Creation: The Grateful and the Odious (LOC)

    Quote Originally Posted by ChaoticHarmony View Post

    Ugh....what a repulsively sad place, couldn't I have dreamed a better dream? Looloodi says.....thinks......dreams......She actually isn't quite sure what she is doing. She stares at the stone pillar sitting atop this strange, cold palace, somehow witnessing both as if far away and near at the same time. She knew instinctively that this......thing.....was Divine like her, yet unlike her in anyway. In every way at the moment really, as Looloodi didn't truly exist in this landscape. No body or form was made for her by the pillar of dreams, and she lacked the knowledge to make one for herself. Am I even still dreaming? Am I even still Alive? Was I ever Alive? Questions, spoken aloud in her head. She focuses herself, girding her mind to speak as she desired. Like, Who are you. What do you, like, want with me?
    The statue remains silent, vacant eye sockets gaze out into the screaming blizzard that all but drown out all but the Goddess's words. Eyes were there once, the signs of distress on the stone makes that clear, some work placed upon the basalt to mar it, to obscure it, to break it. The Divine feeling surrounds, the images waver like static as darkness wells beneath the ice. Vast rifts break and sludge as dark as the void spills forth. It devours all in its path until even the raging winds and driven snow are but grease like smears. The stone figure shifts and moves, grinding upon itself slowly and from the void a world new and fresh is born. Five vast beings of elemental fury war and rage in the darkness until much as before a single water covered stone is all that remains.

    As before, the world grows. Continents rise and empires fall, a bath house of immeasurable size pulls from forested groves. Food is laid upon tables and similar stone statues move like waiters and janitors and staff. "This is not your dream." a voice from nowhere and everywhere ripples, the bathhouse and its staff shaking as if the earth beneath it pitched and rolled. "It is the dream of all Creation, the rise and fall of worlds that never existed, could never exist, their fates all wrought with fury and strife. Their worlds fallen to darkness, to disease, to the best intentions of Gods never worshiped by tongues never moving. Still the Stone and the walls made into a Fortress remained in those places. One the foundation, where all things will go. The other the engine that churns ever onward, birthing and breaking and burying so new foundations may be made. We are old and unnamed. We have been here before your kind. We shall remain long after."

    The walls of the bathhouse rot and fall to disrepair and beyond them the world has been overtaken by lush greenery. The empires fallen but their peoples, strange and almost familiar, walk with a singular purpose. They speak to one another with the same voice. There is no laughter here, no art, no love, no beauty. There is only the greenery, there is only the profound sense of wrongness that such unity brings. Fields filled with butterflies burst into vermilion flames and the world is left a ball of ash. There is no laughter here, no art, no love, no beauty. Only ash and silence and the statue. Upon the statue, these words are written in some angry hand.

    "I dream, I promise.
    The Moss remembers.

    I am what will be, I am what never was.
    The Moss is all that will remain.

    We are old and worn, trust us.
    As rocks, we form the foundation of all, build your faith upon us.

    The Stone was the first, promises made before words were spoken.
    The Ruins are always last, the bones of a silent world.

    From the ash a single butterfly drifts, slow and lazy but as so many times before now, from the single insect the ash is blown aside to reveal another world. Fresh and new, where the earth itself is alive with divine energies, the oceans and the sky and the burning core within as well. An enigma, that flame, and from the butterfly a vast shadow stretches across the face of the world. There is hope there. Youth naivatiy in the gay flight of a single butterfly. There is growth, there is beauty and there is worship as nations rise once more from continents that lift high from the seas.

    "Would you like to return home?"
    Last edited by Razade; 2019-03-02 at 08:01 AM.

  28. - Top - End - #268
    Ettin in the Playground
     
    The Succubus's Avatar

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

    The Great Rat (featuring Selima, Chyron)

    Exodus

    The Great Rat watched as the colony gathered in the central chamber. Their numbers had not yet recovered from the recent attacks and numerous as they were, the absence of the others was keenly felt. Tension crackled through the air like static electricity as the Mosspeakers chittered and squeaked to the group.

    One larger rat, a scar crossing through one of its eyes, squeaked and hissed in response.

    “Strange ones, not-rats, this nest is no longer safe for us. Fire scorches us. The earth crushes us. The light has left us and the green moss grows more and more each day. We will be lost if we stay here. We will die if we stay. Rats must survive. Rats will survive.”

    One of the Mosspeakers turned its head towards him, its lichen beard trailing on the floor. “The rats will survive and they will survive here. The moss does not seek to harm us, it helps, it teaches-”

    “Moss is FOOD. Moss should not be speaking to us. Moss should not be saying 'Rats do this, rats do that'” the scarred rat snarled, grabbing a clump of the moss and tearing it away. “Rats should have fur!”

    “We are safe here, we have food, where would you go?”

    “I DO NOT KNOW!” the scarred rat screamed. “But any place is better than here, as we wait for fire or for death or to be turned into moss!”

    It turned to the gathering. “I know many of you feel the same. Follow me. I do not give happiness. I do not give comfort. Path will be hard,” as it spoke, the scarred rat felt words stirring within it, as though another voice were prompting.

    “But we will find our own way.”

    The scarred rat stalked away and about a third of the rats followed it, leaving behind the dark chamber and the Mosspeakers. The leavers gathered supplies for their journey and set off down one of the tunnels that led north west out of Tanglenest. Lead by the scarred rat they journeyed further and further into the darkness. Soil and granite began to give way to sandstone and the tunnels began to narrow. The sandstone began to press in from every side and the rats struggled to make their way along.

    “This is the right way, this is the right way,” the scarred rat insisted, the voice inside leading it onwards. There was pain, the constricting tunnels of sandstone dug into the rats and they could feel their bodies being shaped and twisted by the long thin tunnels. Their food began to run low. Were they going to die down here?

    Rats must survive.

    Rats will survive.


    Sand blocked the end of the passage, which even now was beginning to squeeze the air from the scarred rats lungs. It dug, beginning to thrash around in a panic when a burst of light shone through a gap in the sand, flooding the tunnel with air.

    The creatures that had been the exiles emerged onto the red hot sands of the Chyronic Desert. To a being, every one of them heard the same two voices.

    “THROUGH HARDSHIP, THROUGH PAIN, WE SHOW OUR RESOLVE.”

    “There is sanctuary here. There is food and water among the oases. Make a home for yourselves amongst the dunes. Make a future.”

    Spoiler: AP Expenditure:
    Show
    Create Sapient Life: Mongoose (2 AP): Exiles from Tanglenest that have been reshaped through their difficult journey from their home under Ilianthos to the Chyronic Desert. Their forms are similar to that of an earth Mongoose, except they are fully sapient. Nomadic in nature, roaming from oasis to oasis, mongooses possess an incredible amount of resilience, embodying in the truest sense The Great Rat's will to survive. They tend to be mistrustful of outsiders but will be at least willing to hear someone out. They dislike their former brethren and in particular the Mosspeakers and the moss itself, viewing it as unnatural. They have a weaker connection to The Great Rat and in time may turn to worshipping other gods and goddesses...

    4 AP -2 = 2AP left.
    Last edited by The Succubus; 2019-03-24 at 07:40 AM.

  29. - Top - End - #269
    Firbolg in the Playground
     
    RedKnightGirl

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

    Tafeita: Confrontation

    The gods were not truly beings in most senses of the word. Rather they were more like metaphors. A reflection of a facet of reality given personification and power so it can spread into a barren world. Loolodi was not a beautiful plant maiden. Rather she was Beauty and Nature, the physical embodiment of natural beauty. As a result she was simple, for her aspects did not bestow particular intelligence nor cunning, but also pure and good, as unspoiled nature that is designed to be nothing more than pleasing to the eye is. Tafeita being older was if anything even more connected to the raw essence of the universe and let it shape her. She was Home and Family. She tended to others because that's what an older family member did to a younger, and she created safety and plenty because that's what a good home was.

    Yet despite not being true beings in most senses of the word, they were in others. To be a personification is to be like a humanoid, and to be like a humanoid was to have their own thoughts and feelings. They were not shackled to their role, doomed to be nothing but a powerful automaton that pretended at sapience. They were people. They felt things. They had limits.

    And Tafeita had just passed her own.

    Her little sister, the god she felt closest to in this world, was being held captive by some hulking brute of metal. A hulking brute of metal that had just admitted to damaging Loolodi's pride and joy. What had formally been her archnemesis and now was likely a mere nemesis before this new god had joined the pantheon she had just joined herself, despite sharing none of the good aspects of it and likely dragging it into the dirt with her savagery. And now that thrice damned armored devil was stating that he had done Loolodi a favor by taking her away, that she was being irrational and they were just helping. Tafeita was peace incarnate. She was a representative of the oasis in the storm, the slice of comfort and happiness in an otherwise cruel and uncaring world.

    And she was incredibly pissed off.

    Fire blazed up from her body, a golden pyre of heat and rage as her fur ignited. "Enough," Tafeita growled, teeth bared and her entire body tense for battle. "You dare lay a hand on her work, take her away, and claim to be in the right? How DARE you! Give her unto me, and release any tricks or bindings you have placed upon her. Or else you shall die."

  30. - Top - End - #270
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    NecromancerGuy

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

    [COLOR="#696969"]Daghir, party in Karan-Kor[/COLOR

    nemesis, the sisters of battle and the hagfish godess

    Quote Originally Posted by Deja Who? View Post
    Janika the Neverfail and the Shores of Karam-Kor

    "Uhh.. what? Not really.. uh.." The goddess of stupidity replied dumbly and rubbed the back of her head to Daghir and his Archons inquires while they traveled, but they reached their destination before she could say much more.

    Janika whistled in genuine appreciation upon seeing the impressive form of the Nemesis. It was probably lost in the sound of waves and threats of justice. "Worth the trip." She had to add before doing a quick warm-up, flexing and stretching her muscles. "I have come far for this, and I think I should start by smashing that pretty face o' yours into that castle and see which one begs for mercy first. Probably you. You know what I mean? Fight me!"

    Spoiler
    Show
    AP: 4

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

    AP: 3
    Daghir's entourage beamed or at least they did whatever counted for that in the strange features of a fungal collective "Splendid! after you"

    they followed in eerie silence only broken by the crushing of the earth under the hunter, and the walking storm that was Daghir. And so they made the rear guard for that most heavenly warpath.

    "it always is" replied Daghir cheerful, and introduced himself with a quick "greetings, her name would be Looloodi" and a small nod to the tyrant he had been intent on defending just a few timeframes ago. Then he stepped aside from the coming conflict, the Archons engaged on a small debate about the meaning and power of "o' " and why it lacked usage amongst their fellows if the first speaker favored it.

    The messenger was getting some great insight into threats and posturing.
    Last edited by neriractor; 2019-03-02 at 12:24 PM.
    Quote Originally Posted by Coidzor View Post
    Ah, yes, trolls, the monsters that are such wusses their primary means of reproduction is being eaten by other creatures.
    Quote Originally Posted by 5ColouredWalker View Post
    With all this talk of half dragon cohorts I may need to scrap riding a actual Dragon given how unoptimized it is.
    hey, order a gig here: https://www.fiverr.com/neriractor

    I would really appreciate it.


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