Lords of Creation

**Fuzzy Math** · 2023-10-19, 09:55 AM (ISO 8601)

Quid hodie fieri potest, etiam cras fieri potest.
What can be done today, can also be done tomorrow.

With gentle snoring, laid back in his plush chaise lounge, Rel stirs slightly in his dreamless sleep while the drink in his hand stays perfectly undisturbed. His unconscious mind was giving way to the subconscious, feeling a temperature difference in the surroundings as the light and warmth from the Sun that pervaded the cosmos, causing condensation to form on his glass. As the sweat from the glass rolls over his fingers, they elicit a thoughtless grunt as his fingers twitch, a vivid dream of a single droplet crashing at an angle into the warm open ocean fifty miles west of the southern end of The Triangular Chain.

In this dream, the crashing droplet causes no waves rushing outward towards neighboring shores, only a great swirling blob of whitish-tan mist reaching high into the stratosphere. As the mist begins to dissipate it reveals a lush tropical landmass that looks like a geological beanbag chair, with snow-capped mountains that break the clouds forming the "headrest" that gradually slope down into the main "seat" of a verdant humanoid butt-shaped caldera on one side and down into the ocean on the other. The caldera cliffs extend half a mile above sea level, bulging down and outward as if a colossal backside was pressing into the landmass, with two great rivers flowing down from the mountains along the edges of the caldera and off the cliffs as if they were the exposed bits of an untied robe belt. The plant life, mainly jungle brush, begins at the bulge of the cliffs and extends halfway up the mountains, with a rainforest supporting all manner of animal life within the caldera. (A large island approximately five hundred miles in diameter.)

At the foothills of the mountain within the caldera rests a humble looking wooden jungle bungalow, with two windows on the three sides not facing the mountain, and a sturdy door between the south-facing windows. What looks to be a stove pipe extends from a woven thatch roof with a large skylight looking up the mountain slope. Surrounding the bungalow was a wide wraparound deck that held a workbench and forge, beyond that a moderately maintained garden that was fenced in by high-rising tropical hedges with a single gated opening. As the dream continues, Rel's consciousness shifts perspective in the dream state as if he were resting on his chaise within the bungalow, cozy and warm as if it were his private domacile. Inside the home covered all the basic necessities; large clay oven between the east facing windows, a simple kitchen with ample counterspace, storage, and a deep spring-fed waterbasin to the west, and a privy closet encompassing the north wall facing the mountain. Rel's lounger rested in the middle, placed on a nice woven rug that really tied the whole place together. Soon, he could see his body resting comfortably, a ghost of a smile on his face before dreamshifting to the outside again.

Running along the caldera floor and among the branches of the trees were small and tiny humanoid hippo-like creatures of various colors; shades of blue, green, red, purple, yellow, and gray. Rel's slumbering self, and his dream-self's, smile deepened. Of all the creatures he dreamed of, these were the ones he held closest to his heart. They instinctively understood how to just be; when not looking for sustenance or scampering away from larger predators, they could spend hours just observing the world around them. Not thinking about the hows or the whys of things, accepting that things just were, until there was a need for the knowing. Occasionally they would perch on the hedges near the bungalow, intially not understanding what they were seeing, until a few of the braver ones would pass through the gate. Sometimes the little ones would be gone for quarter suns, sometimes multiple full suns, but they would return speaking of a large hip-elder named Rel the Unburdened in the mountains with a big bushy grey beard who would teach them hunting/trapping and rudimentary hut building. He smiled upon them once they understood those concepts, telling them that is all he can show them for now. "Once you have enough food to fill your bellies, you will need a place to rest, little ones. Know that you are loved and Rel blesses all of you hiplings with excellent health." With that, the large elder would gather them all up in a tight hug before carrying them outside the gate. "Off ya get, little ones, and remember to share with the others what you've learned!"

From the brave little hiplings, the other hiplings would learn and form small villages up in the trees, sharing their resources for the betterment of all. When they would get hurt or gravely wounded, they would be right as rain after a quick bite and a nap. They talked amongst themselves of the elder in the mountain and gave their thanks and praise, making crude idols and tree carvings of his countenance as best they could. They would gather together in small to large groups in front of these, sharing food and dreams with each other and the "hipling elder", parting after strong communal hugs that they called a "Pile". Those offerings would reach Rel's dreamings, providing him a great comfort and satisfaction that his favorite little ones were doing well.

With this particular dream coming to an end, Rel opened his eyes and sat up, taking a drink from his glass with a contented smile. "Damn, that was nice." Once his faculties started rolling back in, he took a look around and noticed his surroundings for the first time. "Kitchen over there... Oven over here..." he muttered to himself, wiping the sleep from his eyes. Turning, he walked to the privy closet to do his business when he looked up through the skylight up at the mountains towering above him. "Wait a second, what the ever-loving...? This was real?!" He quickly finished up, ran to the south windows, and looked out over the deck to see the workbench and greenery. He shook his head in wide-eyed bewilderment and staggered back, tripped over his rug only to land back on the chaise, not spilling a drop of his drink. "Right, right, I'm still dreaming. A couple more sips, a quick nap, and it'll all be back to normal." He took a few more sips, kicked his feet up, and closed his eyes to hopefully wait this one out.

- Minor Edit: Forgot a hipling color. Minor Edit: Corrected unnoticed mistake regarding continent classification of Rel's Pocket. -

Spoiler: AP Spending

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Gamestart AP: 16

Create Land (2AP) - Rel's Pocket: A large island, providing natural barriers and protection from physical interlopers due to the high cliffs and mountains. Filled with sustainable numbers of varied smaller life (plants and critters) to provide sustenance for the hiplings. [Creation (Bounty) 2/10]

Weave Plane{Hedge/Bungalow Interior} (3AP) - Rel's Bungalow: Metaphysical structure; provides Rel a place to teach the hiplings and generally putter about until he needs/wants to do something. [Craft (Creation) 3/10]

Create Portal{Hedge & Gate} (2AP) - Physical structure; connects the First World to Rel's Bungalow and provides Rel a way to view the immediate area past the hedge gate. [Craft (Creation) 5/10]

Create Race (2AP) - Hiplings: Think humanoid pygmy hippos, but even smaller, more adorable, and with thumbs! With Rel's guidance they've progressed from simple "eat what you can catch" to active hunter/gatherers and village builders. [Dream (Inspiration) 2/10]

Create Mundane Concept (2AP) - Hunting/trapping and basic shelter building: They've got the thumbs and they're learning how to put them to use! [Craft (Creation) 7/10]

Bless (1AP) - Fast Healing Hiplings: Accidents happen when you're learning how to do new things or running in the trees; take a moment to breathe, nibble on something, sleep it off! [Healing (Healing) 1/10]

Racial Society (2AP) - The Hopeful: By passing along the teachings of Rel to other Hiplings and learning that having others look out and after you, the hiplings are forming rudimentary villages for protection and communal well-being. Not to mention, the hipling piles strengthen bonds by providing assurance and comfort. [Community (Family) 2/10]

2AP Left

Progress:
[Creation (Bounty) 2/10]
[Craft (Creation) 7/10]
[Dream (Inspiration) 2/10]
[Healing (Repairs) 1/10]
[Community (Family) 2/10]

**Zelphas** · 2023-10-19, 01:48 PM (ISO 8601)

Flowers for Healing

Floating above the First World, Salet notices that it can reach in directly one more time; it had miscalculated, a lovely little surprise. Glancing over the world once more (and chuckling merrily as it blew through the new civilization of hiplings and their lackadaisical maker), Salet zeroes in on the Empire once again, for another push. A group, named after a flower... not that uncommon, but this one works within the Empire to weed out dissenters. And yet, their flower namesake is for healing, not harm. A curious contradiction. Salet sends a whisper into the minds of some to remind them of their name, before gusting back into the Void once again.

Spoiler: AP Actions

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1 AP

Bless (1 AP) - Healing Flowers: Some of the Crimson Bloom Champions have been affected by Remorse, working to protect and help the Empty Larder in secret while still remaining in their organization (and remaining devoted to Lilia). In public, this means they are also emphasizing their namesake's purpose as a flower of healing and help and turning towards those pursuits rather than the punishments and 'cleansing', though this is a slow process. [War (Mercy) 10/10: Domain Get! Lesser Deity Achieved!]

1 AP - 1 AP = 0 AP Remaining

**Omoikane13** · 2023-10-20, 07:08 AM (ISO 8601)

Originally Posted by MutantDragon

War Comes to the Faithful
Harkit communed with the Genius Locus at the heart of the Empire, a Locus long since driven to fanatical heights of holy madness, and he requested, no, demanded, a Kami. One of the great forest Kamis that the Empire's Locus had conquered in the recent past. And then Harkit channeled his magic and his malice into the tortured spirit. For thirteen days and thirteen nights Harkit filled the Kami with pain and hate and arcane magic. When at last Harkit was done, what remained was hardly a Kami at all, but rather a crown. A twisted crown of living, writhing flesh that whispered deranged ramblings into the minds of all who saw it. Harkit placed this crown upon his head and ascended the steps of the central pyramid. At the top, he turned towards the city and shouted with a voice that boomed like thunder, carrying the raw arcane power of his wrath. He was calling his people to war. And woe would befall any who stood in their way.

Green Eyes, Blazing

Hroad had tried to be somewhat impartial in their dealings. To create life that would protect and nurture, to create in ways that would protect and defend communities. To rarely take sides, and to not directly interfere too much in the dealings of the others unless they were truly offensive to the sensibilities. But this? This was too far. This Slintoch-driven bastardisation, this disgusting affront to beings that wanted naught but to protect and nurture. Here, thanks to this, the only true way to achieve some form of protection and nurturing was to come down, firmly, on the side that opposed the Empire of the Sun and their patron deity.

However, direct action was not in Hroad’s nature. There would be no empowering of a champion to stand on some hilltop and fight off hordes. No, all kami needed defending, all environments, against all those who would try and push and control them. Nature needed more fangs and tendrils.

Firstly, a trial of a new tool. The Fiat Quill twitched in Hroad’s metaphorical hand, and seemed to beg for an inkwell: Hroad could only oblige. Across the First World, springs of pitch-dark ink sprang up, bubbling to the surface, providing a potent magical ingredient. Wary, Hroad made sure that these were parts of the natural environment, and so wherever they arose came under the purview of the local kami. Definitely functional, and something that could hopefully be of use as either as a resource - to those who were friendly with the kami - or as a pit trap - to those who weren’t.

With the practice done, that first scratching with a new quill to ensure it works, it was savvy to get on to the proper work. It would be prudent to lay defenses around Kish-Eru, or at least in proximity, as it was the current target of Slintoch’s lot.
Water, and the swamplike nature of the surrounding environment, were a solid defence already, but they were also a fertile canvas to fill with further dangers - all able to be controlled by the local kami of course, to help keep things on a road that helped the less powerful and the environment.

====

Woven wicker, thick reeds that could wind together into a sturdy material and unwind again when needing to be slightly less solid, made for a base. For connective tissue, an injection of magic into the ink from the new wellsprings made for a fluid, flexible material. Then, the form of one of the larger aquatic reptiles, lengthy and well-toothed. And then, as suited for a weapon, Hroad made it larger. And then larger, comparable to the average Kish-Eru home. And this ambush predator would be well-suited to the forests, swamps, and lakes around the city, perhaps able to feed on the snacks that were so kindly wandering towards it. The natural construction and ability to fade back into its materials made it particularly easy to tie to the kami as well, incorporating the beast as a natural element.

====

Many unfortunates drowned in many bodies of water. If by the sea, drowning was perhaps a rather gentle end, compared to some of the alternatives. And it was this…quirk of the sea, so to speak, that Hroad was inspired by next. With a wave of a nonexistent hand, Hroad pulled away roughly a person’s worth of ink from one the newly formed wells. Not a precise measurement, yes, but that wasn’t important either. They formed it into a rough figure, sharpened the edges, and then threw the mass back into the ink fount.

Another fishing motion, and the same figure returned. Success. Now, like with all other beings, it needed a drive. Not nature, not civilization. Law.
Hroad made it so that these ink-forms would be repulsed and disgusted by chaos and destruction. They would hunt it down and end it, pursue adherence and calm and quiet. And the more of it nearby, the more that would bubble forth from the founts, to bring that black peace - an immune system tuned to an immutable concept. Not a swarm, not an immune system that would erase healthy flesh, but a well-cultivated one that would keep chaos controlled.

====

Another idea arose from Hroad’s peaceful watching of some of the more aquatic insects. In many of the swamps and bodies of water, small bugs would balance on the tension of the surface, dancing across it, often to then be eaten by some bird.

But these creations would not be prey to mere beasts.

Those unskilled with boats, those from places with sailing traditions unlike those of Kish-Eru, would sometimes wade through certain heights of water. This crisp plane dividing them, the border between water and air, was something that Hroad had been familiar with from their awakening. And it would be the death of those that sought to control the environs further.

These enhanced skates would be the size of a small boat, and wickedly sharp, with shells of murky, dark metal that let them blend into shadowy waters. And if they ran into something soft at the high speeds they could water-dance then, well…that thing would not live long. And the last sight that fish food would have would be a bright pair of eyes watching them from the rushes, watching as they sink into black depths.

====

Beasts and blades could be killed, parried, avoided. There needed to be something more insidious, something quieter. Many of Hroad’s creations had cleaved to their more natural aspects, and Hroad felt that they had recently been neglecting their other side - the law and the word. And what better place to hide a more secretive danger than in the written word, and in the mind of those who read it?

The word - the Wyrd - would look like any other word. A sentient being reading it would simply gloss over it, their reading organs ignoring it. But in doing so, the Wyrd would implant itself in that being’s mind. And it would drive, and whisper, and hint towards two things: whatever purpose that made up its very being, and reproduction. Hroad created two species of Wyrd, to begin with. One, to instill a respect for the law and a willingness to adhere to it. Another, to instill a respect for nature, and a drive to protect it. Hroad then scattered these seed Wyrds in the books and writings of any society that had them, and resolved to watch what would follow. Always watch.

====

As a final defense, something more active. Giving the Kami further tools to use was all well and good, but it was reactive, responsive. There needed to be an active agent who would help to defend the wilderness and the Kami within. And what better to choose than a Kami itself?

A small grove, unhealthy, dying, uncared for. Victim to the pollution and ignorance of industrialisation, its gourds slowly withering. The Kami equivalent of a malnourished child, and a worthy one to elevate. It would know how its suffering brethren would feel, would know why it did what it did. Hroad called to it using words that no sentient race had so far mastered, and tried to quell the further rage that bubbled up at the sight of the withered manifestation that matched its home and other self.

Hroad calmly reached under the grove, and folded it like papyrus over the grove’s manifestation. It would no longer be a grove and a Kami, linked. Now, they would be one, grove and Kami the same being. The usual control this exalt would have over their little pocket of the world would instead be had over themself, the usual Kami control becoming personal powers, improvements, and modifications. Hroad also made sure that it was literate, as literate as could be, enough to be able to act as an envoy between Kami and sapient, where needed. A person, a Kami, a grove, all the same.

It was also rather large, but that wouldn’t hurt.

====

With these creations, Hroad noticed a growing difficulty. It was becoming tougher to roam and observe the world as it had been before. Not impossible, but the difficulty was growing to enough of a degree that it would be prudent to create a new limb, a new form that would help aid this. And recent events had made it best to create a more…imposing avatar. Being the spryght or pixy of however many myths was pleasant, but there were too many who needed their rules enforced, who were far too uncontrolled.

A robed figure, a hint of something underneath in the shadows. But there would be nothing there, no person in the inky blackness under that hood no matter how hard someone looked. Those who looked too deep might see characters, letters, and words, but ccan never fix their eyes or focus on them.
Around one arm, a gauntlet of rolled, yellow-ish paper that never seemed to end. The other, what looked like a bristiling mass of reeds - though in fact it was a collection of quills and ink-pens.

====

Spoiler: AP Actions

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Bless: Deepworld Inkwells [0 AP, from Artifact]: Across the world, large pockets of ink form underground - or the local equivalent of underground. This then bubbles up to the surface, similar to small oil spouts. The ink produced from these seemingly never ending (but slow) spouts is thick, but perfect for writing and for use as a magical reagent where appropriate. These fountains are considered natural, and are under the control and/or purview of the Kami who environment they arise in.

Create Monstrous Life: Soottooth [1 AP]: Massive crocodile-like creatures made of woven reeds and magical ink-sinew that are able to disassemble and reassemble themselves at high speed. Currently, the only population that exists is in and around the city of Kish-Eru. Sootteeth are connected to local Kami as any normal creature would be, but then slightly more, and are able to be “piloted” more easily if a Kami desires.

Create Monstrous Life: Inkshade [1 AP]: Inkshades arise from Deepworld Inkwells in response to nearby chaos and destruction, or generally anything that could be considered anti-”law”. They are roughly shaped like the local population of sapients, but are not sapient themselves. Their primary, and possibly only drive is to remove anything that would cause chaos and to bring the “black peace”. They cannot be reasoned or argued with, but can be destroyed, collapsing into their constituent ink. Inkshades are considered, for the purposes of Kami control/purview, part of the fount they sprang from.

Clarifiying quotes from the Discord:

"If you're blatantly chaotic, such as incoming Empire forces (shakes fist), then you'll likely be targeted. Otherwise, whatever best suits a good story."
"They're not intended as Hroad's order of elite ninja shadow assassins, they're ink-themed antibodies of the metaphysical idea of "law""

Create Monstrous Life: Razor Skate [1 AP]: Razor Skates are roughly the size of a boat, and resemble somewhat of a cross between a water strider, a turtle, and a buzzsaw. Their chitin is flat, meal, murky, and extremely sharp. They are nimble for their size, comparable to smaller water striders, and sit low to the water surface. As an example of their danger, imagine a person wading through stomach-high, swampy water. A… negative encounter with a Razor Skate could easily result in them being cleanly bisected, if colliding at a high speed. The easy answer to avoiding this is a sturdy boat; even a weak boat will resist slashing and will provide awareness that the Skate is nearby.

Create Monstrous Life: Wyrd [1 AP]: Wyrds are a form of memetic life. It is easiest to identify two stages to their lifecycle - dormant, and implanted.

A dormant Wyrd is effectively a written word or words. It does not actually read anything though, and anyone reading it will have their eyes gloss over it, ignoring the word - nothing appears out of place. However, reading a Wyrd then implants an immature copy of it into that reader’s mind, and makes the read word inert for the purposes of Wyrd implantation.

An implanted Wyrd has been read, and exists in the mind of a sapient being. It drives the being to do two things. The first is the Wyrd’s concept. This could be a task, a drive, a predilection, anything that could be normally communicated. The first Wyrds. As described above, drive the host to a lawful nature, and an environmentally-caring nature. Others may evolve, be created, etc. The second drive of a Wyrd is to reproduce, driving the host to write the Wyrd somewhere, though typically only once (for now) - so for now, there’s no mass-spreading by writing it on a wall or something.

Raise Hero: Kalabash [2 AP]: Kalabash is the Kami of a dying gourd grove, rejuvenated and fused with the environment it embodies, and granted a more sapient perspective. It roams to help other Kami, to care for the natural world, and to spread bottle gourd seeds wherever they can survive. The typical power that a Kami would have over the environment it embodies is something that Kalabash instead has over their own form.

Create Avatar: Riali, Corpus of Laws [3 AP]: Riali is an avatar embodying Hroad’s more lawful side. Rather than the nature spirit that Hroad typically appears as, Riali is intended as an intimidating figure, a representation of a pure kind of law. Heartless, but also lacking cruelty. Simply there to enforce, to help define, codify, and implement rules.

Domains:

Water (Ink) +5/10 -> DOMAIN GAINED

Mind (Language) +4/10

With the gaining of Water (Ink), Hroad ascends to become a Lesser Deity.

Remaining AP: 6

**MutantDragon** · 2023-10-20, 03:17 PM (ISO 8601)

Evil Stalks the World

Along a secluded Ley Line of arcane power, there was an ordinary pile of glass and orichalcum. But today there was something different about this sun-tossed material and energy. There was something wrong. A kernel of divinity, a trace of hatred. It merged with the arcane, sending corruptions and perversions across the network before bursting into arcane fire. Around it, the orichalcum melted and twisted, forming a humanoid shape of molten metal, and the glass shattered and swirled, forming a jagged orbit about the power made manifest. And in its awakening mind it knew only two things: hate and the name of its distant creator. Slintoch. And a voice thrumming with hatred to match its own and power than dwarfed it spoke. It spoke only one word. But the arcane thing that was just born knew the meaning. Zargog. This would be the name of a new horror made manifest by way of fire and malice.

---

Helint was an ordinary member of the merchant guild. He worked in Port Tale, distributing the forged metal from the Empire to all the alchemists and buyers needed to turn the ultimate profit. Profit from a war that would soon claim untold numbers of live. Profiting from death. It's not something that ever bothered Helint, not really. He used to think there was something wrong with him; he never cried when someone died, he never shied away from doing an unsavory task, he was never disquieted by the depredations of the Empire. To the contrary, these things fascinated him. It wasn't until he first killed a man that he realized how good it felt. An alchemist named Lork. A man who was not properly checked or deceived before being brought in the work with the merchants. A man who found out just what they were doing, just where those weapons were coming from. He was angry, he was a threat. So Helint ended him. He picked up one of those daggers and stabbed Lork for what seemed like several minutes. It didn't take that long to kill the man, but doing it just felt so good. The scratching of an itch Helint didn't even know he had. But now he did know, and that would not do. There was no profit to be had in killing. To do so indiscriminately is just to eradicate potential customers. No, no, no, that would not do. That would not do one bit. Unless the act itself was a marketable service. There were many people in the world who would pay to be rid of others. The act of murder could prove quite lucrative. And, working out a small loophole in the exchange of soul coins, Helint found a way to make it more lucrative than his other options besides. Yes, this would be the beginning of a new avenue of profit, one far more satisfying and profitable than being a middle man in some larger trade scheme.

Spoiler: OOC

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9AP

Curse (Corrupted Ley Lines) 1AP: Ley lines have been touched by Slintoch's hate, twisting them into an agent for corruption, even beyond what arcane magic normally is. Anyone who is near them becomes increasingly filled with rage and hatred and arcane corruption from spell usage is amplified. [Emotions (Hatred) 4/10]

Create Avatar (Zargog) 3AP: Zargog is a living mass of arcane and divine energy wrapped in a featureless humanoid shell of molten orichalcum that stands about eight feet tall. Broken glass swirls around him, shifting to attack any who dares to approach. His mind is largely consumed by hate, and his power is definitively beyond what any mere mortal could dream of harnessing. [Emotions (Hatred) 7/10]

Creat Organization (Assassins Guild) 1AP: The Assassins Guild is a subservient offshoot of the larger Merchants Guild, taking murder contracts from anyone who will pay. The membership is currently small, at least when compared to the Merchants Guild as a whole, and they are abnormally focused on physical enhancements with their statgems, but their reputation for effectiveness cannot be denied, nor can the monetary benefits of getting paid twice for one job. [Emotions (Hatred) 8/10]

Create Mythic Subconcept (Soul Coins -> Assassination Contracts) 2AP: When a formal assassination contract is signed, the assassin's statgem records clearly the terms and target of the contract. When the target is slain in accordance with the terms of the contract, the statgem automatically converts the victim's soul into a soul coin. If the killing occurs without a contract or in a way that violates the terms of the contract, this process does not occur, nor does it work on any incidental murders in the pursuit of fulfilling a contract. [Emotions (Hatred) 10/10] New Domain Unlocked!

9AP - 7 AP = 2AP

**Mechalich** · 2023-10-20, 08:16 PM (ISO 8601)

Droplets

Ecie spun in the shadowy place behind the moon and considered strange thoughts glancing through her mind. The First World, far below, grew more connected, true, but in a fashion lacking restraint and measure. Violence grew more and more abundant, searing and savage, with all sides chewing at each other in endless quarrel rather than building in mutual support. It was…distasteful.

She did not desire to intervene in this conflict, not directly, not even should it spread north to trouble those sisters who had pleasantly conformed to her ideals. War was an act of tearing, and she was a binder. Fighting, no matter how well reasoned, would always be a measure of betrayal. It led her to consider, instead, alternatives.

The existence of inner worlds, these strange pockets within the soul of the sapient, represented an intriguing possibility. Few mortals had engaged with them much of yet, not even her studious Onna, being focused more upon the world around them and its many dangers. Despite this, the possibilities were boundless. Only the worlds themselves were bounded, isolated, limited.
Perhaps that could be changed.

Where before Ecie had grasped the base of the ocean and torn it upwards to build land, now she reached deeper, further, to wrap her hands around the fundamental fabric of reality itself, wrench free a new thing entirely, a new layer of existence. From this skein she spun a web of soul thread, a representation of the connections between the lives of mortals, and the worlds that lay within them. What was once isolated was not connected, albeit loosely, with the potential to grow into something far more in time.

Twisting through the paths of existence, she found a place in the center of this web from which to dwell and watch the rest of reality, peering upward through the worlds within each life.

Spoiler: AP Actions

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Weave Plane (3AP) – Droplet Web: Inner Worlds are now collected in a vast spiderweb, with each one a water droplet upon its endless threads. These threads represent the connections between people, and as those grow and shrink these bonds increase. Potentially a sufficiently strong bond could allow flow or even melding between inner worlds, though this has not happened yet. Ecie has adopted this plane as her home. [Protection (Shelter) 3/10]

Starting AP: 0 Rollover Gain: 5 Spent: 3 Remaining: 2

**Razade** · 2023-10-20, 10:20 PM (ISO 8601)

Flushing the System

Ley Lines are but natural things, rivers of power and magical energies that ebb and flow with the motions of the heavens. Like nature, it has corrective measures. As corruption and filth build within these living rivers and lakes, the power of the Arcane Magic within the system builds to a crescendo until it bleeds out into the world. This bleed spills the corruption forth, giving rise to Goblins and far worse creatures. We have documented towering monstrosities we have dubbed Trolls, cunning and far crueler than their smaller kin.

Along side the birth of these monsters, and far worse horrors we have only legends to account for, is a strange phenomena. While it was difficult to document in the short term, trends have become obvious. Children born near these lakes and rivers of power during purges exhibit startling strength over the Arcane Arts. As if the energy that purges the Ley Lines themselves have imbued in living things. Foliage and animals likewise see pronounced growth. Nothing close to the Giants of the Hands, but even my own son is several heads taller than I or his mother. Our family line is not particularly gifted with such heights, so it is strange to see our boy of only nine be almost six feet tall.

- Maximilian Oftstrandete, On The Ley Lines Vol. 2

Spoiler

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AP: 2 + 5 = 7

Curse (2AP) - Ley Line Purges: The Ley Lines are natural flows of Arcane Magic. Corruption and other altering effects on their flow are flushed out now and then. Particularly corrupted sections give rise to Goblin hordes, Trolls and other monsters. Those born living near Ley Lines when they purge this corruption are born with particularly strong magical power. Animals and plant life also grow larger.[Air ( Purity) 2/10]

Create Sub-Concept (-2AP) - Purifying Magic: Arcane Magic that is especially good at curing corruption and taking corruption into oneself. Oddly, those mages who bring corruption into themselves are better at utilizing this magic. Purifying Magic is potent against creatures born from the corruption of Arcane Magics such as Goblins and Trolls[Air (Purity) 4/10]

Create Monster (Artifact Charge) - Trolls: Advanced forms of Goblins, these creatures act as nodes for the Goblin Hive Mind. Trolls are far more intelligent but still not as intelligent as sentient races. They can utilize, but rarely create, tools created by sentient races. They are half the size of giants.

7AP - 2AP - 2AP = 3AP

**Demidos** · 2023-10-21, 03:46 AM (ISO 8601)

The new construction on the city has been completed, and war is on the horizon. In the last few weeks, four more skirmishes have occurred between the First City and the Empire, and the First City has won three, leveraging small teams of Inksworn with complementary Titles to devastating effect. However, the Empire’s soldiers are endless, and squads must be fully obliterated lest the survivors consume the dying and return with renewed vigor. Furthermore, even a single loss means the loss of precious soldiers and Inksworn. Even the least of the Empire’s soldiers is a match for the First City’s finest, with their knack for killing, complete lack of fear, and growing population of martial artists. Only the First City’s excellent small group team-work and concentrated population of Inksworn capable of hit-and-run tactics give them any sort of edge, as well as the knowledge of where their foes are. The location of First City is still hidden from their foes. Dangerous predators, many raised recently by the actions of Hroad, act as a deterrent to most uninvited guests, though they also have had a chilling effect on trade from the Guild of Merchants. Some enterprising First City residents have taken it upon themselves to construct a smaller, as yet unnamed satellite port town on the outskirts of the flooded marshes near the ocean, and have started to make large profits to guide or act as middlemen for the merchants. Beast taming techniques imported from other continents via word of mouth flourish in this new town, and the breeding of spear herons, a few of which were brought by wandering merchants, is extremely popular, as the herons thrive in the marshy conditions. None are yet brave enough to attempt to tame the dangerous Soottooths, but some few foolhardy souls are already preparing to make the attempt.

Sagmi watches the first few skirmishes with excitement – the First City is a clear underdog, the best kind of story. Direct divine interference might well spoil the story, but a little chaos always gives the chance for things to be shaken up a little. Reaching down, she plucks stories and songs from First City, and weaves them with the ink from Hroad’s ink pools into a book, wrapped in black ink but filled with the most incredible illustrations within. Swords, crowns, staves, and all other manner of magical objects fill the pages of the book. Her hand passes into a page, pulling forth what seems a simple kitchen cleaver, albeit nearly ten feet tall and light as a feather. With a small exertion of divine will, the cleaver sails up and out of sight, falling somewhere among the forest. Whispers will soon reach both First CIty and the Empire of this magical tool hidden within the forest, as well as anyone else who may be keeping their ears open at the right moment and the right time. Of course, First City is the first to hear of the tool – after all, she might not be interfering directly, but who says a goddess cannot play favorites?

One more thing happens in First City, but this even the gods have not yet noticed. A partnership between a Inksworn with a strange, perhaps useless Title, and a certain Alchemist of the Old Bloom. They are searching for something, that even they cannot quite verbalize yet, a tool and a new learning that might yet prove decisive in the upcoming war.

Spoiler: AP Actions

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1 AP Teach(Beast Taming): Through the power of music, songs and their soothing voice, the people of Kish-Eru have begun to tame the beasts of the swamps. Arts(Music) 7/10

5 AP Greater Utility Artifact (Tome of Wonders): The Tome of Wonders is a magical book which floats by Sagmi’s side at all times, containing the illustrated wondrous relics described in ten thousand stories. Sagmi can reach into the pages of the Tome to draw forth any sort of item contained therein. The Tome can only produce those items which have already spread as stories in the mortal world, thus it effectively can bring stories to life. Reduces the Create Artifact action by 1 AP. Creation(Relics) 5/10

2 AP (3-1 Tome of Wonders GUA Charge): Minor Utility Artifact, The Cleaver of Continents: Described in a children’s tale as the weapon of a bumbling Giant that accidentally destroyed and reshaped the lands of the normal folk with his cleaver while attempting to catch a flame tiger for his dinner. Reduces the Alter Land action by 1 AP. Creation(Relics) 7/10

0 AP (Song of Heroes GUA): Blessing of the Heroes: Those who find relics find themselves and wield them find themselves taking on the attributes of the character in the story upon which the relic is based. Someone wielding the Staff of the Vizier may grow a goatee and develop megalomanic tendencies, while even the cruelest being alive will begin to grow a conscience while wearing the Robe of Angels.

Accounting:
10 AP- 8 AP = 2 AP

**AlexanderML** · 2023-10-21, 10:58 AM (ISO 8601)

The Forest Between Kish-Eru and the Empire - The Blooming of Blood and Flame

The Maiden of Glamor was ready for war. To have a chance to cut down the strong instead of only the weak was a task that she had yearned for, and she would make herself a grand example of her ideals.

With every accomplishment there was a sacrifice, and a grand one would be needed for the blessing the Maiden of Glamor desired. Only the greatest sacrifice could fill the land with the flames and blood she would need- that of a dragon; one of the few equals she had in this world.

Bored at the usual spectacles the ant-like mortals presented it, great Bhal’s interest was peaked at the prospect of two of the barely noticeably less worthless group of humans fighting one another. Resting atop a hill that overlooked the forest it waited for the spectacle to come to it, and was bitterly annoyed when it saw another boring warrior clad in bronze carrying a gleaming spear walking up towards it.

“Stupid. All of you are so stupid. This is why I cannot stand humans.” Bhal spoke half-heartedly to the human, hoping to see it cower. The thing of course shook, but it proceeded on like so many others.

Something about its breathing was… off. The dragon’s senses could tell that some trickery was at play, even as they were fooled; irritating mighty Bhal to the point where the hill shook with his contained fury. “Hmph, do you think whatever tricks you have make you somehow above the others that have tried to kill me before? You're just a worthless human.” he smeared.

“Dragon Bhal, your blood shall make a fine sacrifice to the goddess.” the human said, their voice… off. No matter, Bhal was patient but he was no longer amused by the tiny human’s bravery.

With a swipe of his tail he crushed the human where they stood. Or… he should have. When he raised his tail all he saw there was crushed human - rock, it was just a rock there. Something was wrong.

Fire in his maw Bhal growled “What trickery is this… human?”

Then he heard the crack as something broke, then a sizzling noise on his lower stomach. Something was eating away at his scales. “You- YOU DARE YOU PUNY WORM?!” Bhal screamed, thrashing about in a prepared motion for removing numerous weaklings around him. He heard the human fall and hit the ground, yet it was hard for him to tell where for some reason.

It didn’t matter. With a simple exhaling of breath, Bhal turned the top of the hill red with his flames. The smell of burning flesh told him the annoying human had died.

“Grrr- how annoying.” Bhal said sitting back down, but then a bit of melted metal was thrown at his face, but it missed his eye by a large margin. He heard a collapse, and then saw the corpse of the human, barely more than a black skeleton at this point. It was hard to imagine, but it had apparently thrown that attack when it was dying… so stupid.

Bhal was alone again for a day, briefly taking the time to burn down a mortal village for some entertainment before returning to its now smoldering hill top. He hoped for something interesting to happen, which to its immense frustration occurred soon after.

He smelled that human again. In fact he smelled dozens. Looking down from his perch he saw that human approaching from all directions, shambling their way up the hill. The air shook at the bubbling rage “You live then, trickster? No matter, you are a greater fool than most humans if you decided to throw away your life after escaping once.”

Bhal tried for a moment to decide which one was the real one… before giving up and taking flight, circling the hill and bathing it with flames. The fakes, and maybe the real one, all burned away.

With a growl wondering if this would persist, the dragon once more sat atop its mound, huffing out a stream of deadly flame as it realized a smell was in the air… no; a feeling, a chill in its nostrils.

Reacting just in time, Bhal leaped into the air as a mighty amount of alchemical regents finished reacting beneath it, creating a gray goo that caught its back leg and foot.

“GRRRAAA! YOU PATHETIC WORM! YOU DARE TRY TO HOLD ME?!”

Yet the human refused to give up its location by speaking. Instead Bhal caught a glimpse of it to his side, and unleashed a furious river of flames down upon it. A moment later he felt something on his massive shoulders, running up his neck with unnatural speed.

But not fast enough, for Bhal twisted his neck to throw the human off of him with such force that the ground cracked beneath them. Yet as he went for a follow-up tail sweep it was slowed down too much by the goo, letting the human move away in a blur that surprised the dragon- even as he could keep up with it.

“What is this? Are you even a human?” Bhal asked, letting loose his fire once more to bathe the hill in flames “Die Trickster!”

Yet as the flames died down he felt that chill in his nostrils again, and had the feeling that the human had not perished from the flames. Was this something that cost it? Or was it simply immune to his flames? Likely the former, and Bhal’s pride did not let him dwell on the matter further.

The moment of contemplation cost him as a thin clay tube hit his face, exploding some foul smelling smoke across his face. “What is this?!” he roared, then was stunned in realization.

Taking this opportunity the mortal could be heard taking a leap forward, going for his eyes.

Bhal met the human with his jaws, clasping hard on them before throwing them to the ground; then stomping on them with his full body weight. “You… YOU, playing with ME? Trying to remove my senses one by one so you can slay me like a coward?” he let out a breath of frustration that made the hilltop glow.

Yet the black crushed pile weakly spoke “The viper is… as deadly as the tiger…” before expiring.

Bhal made sure to crush the body to dust and melt what remained before leaving to destroy another mortal village to vent its frustrations.

As great as the blessings of the goddess were in preventing her final death, the Maiden of Glamor could only continue to waste resources attacking the dragon if she believed she had learned enough.

Taking what she had learned, the Maiden left for the realm of the goddess.

The goddess, alone, was working her newest brews upon her cauldron. Larger than many buildings it stood, made of the finest siog stitched together, the sweet smell of the bubbling brew drifting far away.

The maiden asked for the right to use the cauldron, to which the goddess gave a nod and perhaps a smile towards. And so the maiden went to work, leaving only to gather the material needed for what she had in mind.

The mighty Bhal lay irritable for another three days, expecting that trickster to somehow escape death again. Its foul mood sullied the once luscious hill, now a black stain of smoldering flame that quaked with the irritation and bubbling rage of a dragon.

As night once more drew without sign of the trickster, the dragon decided to take flight and see if it could spot anything fun to destroy. When he returned to his hilltop, just before he laid down to rest, he decided to bathe it in fire again.

Several clay tubes were destroyed, their alchemical regents ruined before they could ensnare the dragon.

“AGAIN?! Trickster, your pathetic ruse is easy to see through! Trickery cannot defeat even the lowliest dragon; let alone I, mighty Bhal!”

Bhal landed then so that he could stand still and listen. He had learned that his most reliable senses against the human were his sense of smell and sound. Taking in a deep breath he could smell death around him, a floral scent too; but it was too strong to pinpoint. He tried to look around to see if he was being surrounded again but the most he caught a glimpse of was the blur of something larger than a human.

Was it the same human that kept attacking him? It had to be, there were not many who could irritate him so; his pride demanded no other answer.

Bhal tried to listen to his surroundings, but they were quiet…. In fact, they were unnaturally so.

“Grrr, what trickery is this!?” he shouted, spraying fire around haphazardly. He wasn’t stuck here like they wanted, he could just leave; but to flee from a pathetic huma-

Then he felt four large bodies jump atop him. Three of them were doing barely anything to him due to his scales, but one of them had lunged right at the weak point that was created during the first attack. For the first time in perhaps his entire life Bhal felt terrible, ripping pain as large claws tore into him.

“RAAAAA! You worms!” he said, whipping his head behind him, using his wings to start to gain altitude, not noticing the fifth one leap towards him with the human on its back. With a practiced throw the human stuck the hollow spear it carried into Bhal’s eye. A second later it exploded.

Bhal’s head reeled at the blow, forcing him to the ground as he tried to think past the white noise and pain. He was still mostly intact, even his eye could likely be recovered from even that blow.

Then the axe came down. Right upon his eye he felt a small metal attack him. He tried to weakly shake his head, and the human stayed there and continued cutting. He tried to lift his head, the human continued to cut even as he shook. He brought a claw to his face, the human would move out of the way in a blur then return, cutting again and again.

Quicker and quicker did the axe cut, the human moving closer to mighty Bhal’s brain; more frantic and panicked the dragon became as even covered in a river of blood the human refused to drown or slow down.

“You- YOU, I ahh, AHHH, RAAAAAA!” the mighty dragon Bhal wailed as the human continued their work.

When things were done, the sacrifice complete, She stood upon the heart of the beast and beheld the land around her so filled with love.

With the dragon’s blood did the forests grow larger, did the trees learn to bloom. Taking the flame of the dragon She gave it to the first buds of the forest. Her creations were let loose within, play and do as those who loved Her wished.

With a satisfied smile She let the forest take shape and began work for what was to come of all this.

Spoiler: OOC

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5/20 AP

-5 Create Greater Artifact (Create Monster) - The Delusion Cauldron: Made from the stitched together remains of the first Tuantha the Delusion Cauldron warps and distorts the flesh and souls of mortal creatures that touch the liquid inside. The goddess often lets her flower maidens come and use it with her assistance, but others would have to pay a heavy price. 10/10 Evil (Corruption)

(Artifact Charge) - Create Monster - Scream Eaters: Giant four legged abominations made through necromancy the Scream Eaters produce growls that destroy rather than produce sound. They are often used as scouts and surprise reinforcements, though they need some scent or supervision to work effectively as they only have animal intellects and are the size of elephants.

Spoiler: What a scream eater looks like.

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(Artifact Charge) - Alter Land - The flower fortress of Bhal'nabool: This flower forest stands between the lands of the Empire and Kish-Eru. Covered in year long red leaves and flame colored buds, many parasitic and bloodthirsty creatures live within like the giant wasp or blood vines. Creatures and especially the plantlife of Bhal’nabool are resilient to flame, with many flowers native to the region having the ability to produce fire for self defense or to attract insects.

Undead of both the beloved and more horrific descriptions make their lives here, coming out to harm those who go against the ways of the Maiden of Glamor.

(Empire folks are generally fine to pass through)

(Artifact Charge) - Create Organization - The War Host of the Crimson Champions: Putting together an army to fight Kish-Eru, the Crimson Champions assemble armies of goblins and skeletons; with Scream Eaters being the first abominations produced to act as scouts and calvary.

(Artifact Charge) - Curse - Wyrd Love: Those wyrd that come into contact with Lilia’s Love inside a person’s mind will often die and fail to reproduce, or are warped to become vectors of Lilia’s Love. Subtly removing a bit of distrust towards Lilia and her followers in those that are affected.

0/20 AP

**Fuzzy Math** · 2023-10-22, 11:02 PM (ISO 8601)

Opus crastinum bis plus est quam opus hodiernum.

Tomorrow's work is twice as much as today's work.

Rel's rest was lacking, his sleep light; every creak of the floorboards, every mating call of a macaw, every tink of the ice in his glass prevented him from dreaming. Frowning, he begrudgingly opened his eyes to stare at the ceiling, and spitefully did not a damn thing. After a few hours he sighed and rolled to an upright position with his feet on the floor. "Alright, fine. I'm either still dreaming, losing my mind, or this is my new reality. When faced with two impossibilities, let alone three, the only thing left to do is accept that 'impossible' is just uninspired creativity and shake what the Creator gave you!" He stood with a grunt and a trumpetous passing of wind before arching his back in all directions, then a few squats, arm stretches, and neck rolls before walking over to the kitchen to set his drink down on the counter. Grabbing a nectarine from the bowl next to his drink, he went about the bungalow, munching and observing the world outside his windows mindlessly. Occasionally, he has found, you get your bearings easier when you look at things without thoughts getting in the way. For example, the nectarine and the fruitbowl weren't there when he walked into the kitchen, but there was no wondering where it came from or why it only had nectarines. It just was; it existed because it did, and luckily for him, he liked the sweet and tart fruit. "Is-ness, man. Is-ness..." You can't stop something from happening, you can only redirect its course, hopefully into something useful.

Smacking his lips and wiping the nectarine juice off on a towel by the sink, he wandered out onto the deck, then the garden with its various berry bushes, then to the hedge gate. Peeping out, he took a couple sips from his drink again as it was in his hand, and watched the collected moisture roll from the trees to the ground below. "Go with the flow, enjoy the ride while it lasts." The words rolled out from within, as if Rel's subconcious was manning the wheel. More drops fell, this time getting buffeted by a gentle wind and changing into mist, bringing moisture to the moss on the trees. "Sometimes the journey changes you, forms you into something more beneficial for the world around you, letting it grow from your journey too." Nodding to himself, he felt good, like he was beginning to understand his center. "Yeah. Yeah, that resonates. A course correct here, minor touch up there, shrug off the little dents since they add character. Alright, man. I think I got this!"

Opening the gate, Rel stepped out into the First World quietly, not wanting to be seen. He was the one observing today, ready to learn from the world around him. Rather than head toward the hipling villages, he meandered further westward into the foothills, his slippered feet leaving behind no trails or depressions in the ground. Once he reached an area the hiplings have yet to explore, he held his glass up to gaze through its contents, watching the swirling of colors intermingle with the hills. His other hand raised of its own volition, tracing the dance in his glass, while the hills ahead of him flow with the motion. He smiles widely, setting his drink on a convenient outcropping that looks suspiciously like a tabletop, and closes his eyes while still being able to "see". Feeling the essence of the earth within his arms, he dapples his fingers which makes little arches of stone, then lays his hands flat causing the changes to stop. Swaying his outstretched arms to the left, the changes are undone, and he opens his again to see the world unchanged. "Good vibrations, indeed." Satisfied, he began the trek back to the bungalow, only now realizing how much distance his steps are taking him with each stride. It seemed that as long as he had a destination in mind, at least while here on the island, he could cover the expanse within steps. Coming up on the hedge made him pause, not quite grasping what he was seeing, or rather not seeing. His house was gone! No matter whether he looked through the gate or over the hedge, there was no bungalow, deck, or garden. Once he laid a hand on the gate however, all of it came back into view, then disappeared when no longer touching the gate. "No wonder the hiplings look at this place like they do; it's just weird square bushes surrounding hills. I'm going to have to give the gate-crashers some extra treats next time!" Chuckling to himself, he pushed the gate open and walked back inside, ready to lay down to dream again.

---The Mid-day Romp of Petrick the Hipling, observed within Rel's Dreaming---

Petrick awoke with first light, still cuddling the leaf and fur woven doll of Rel that his mother made him, curled up within his velvety leaf blanket that he cocooned himself in. He snugged the doll tighter for a bit, not quite ready to start the day, nor was he tired enough to slip back into the loving embrace of sleep. He snuzzled, he snerdled, he snoodged within the leafy confines, waiting for his tummy to rumble. After a few hours of half-dozing in and out, Petrick yawned and uncurled from under his blanket, rolling into a leg-splayed sit. Smacking his lips, he raised his arms in a big stretch with his li'l Rel dangling from his hand, and got up to walk to where the food was kept. With his hunger growing, he wandered over to the beetle-shell serving plate to grab a handful of nuts, berries, and sundried nectarines while his mother was busy sweeping the floor. He made sure to slip a couple pieces of each into his Rel's tummy pocket so it could "eat" when it got hungry too. When she turned and spotted him, he toddled over to give her a hug and grunted contentedly, getting a headscritch of affection. "Papa?" Petrick asked, looking and listening about in curiosity. "Gone to check the fish traps, baby." his mother explained. "Oh!" he exclaimed; having only just discovered the tastiness of fish a few weeks ago, he was excited to hear they would be filling his tummy again tonight! "Maybe I can help him!" he suggested as he loosened his grip and ran back to his room to grab his leaf-pack. It was a simple thing, just a large and sturdy waxleaf, bound together with dried vines to fashion a container with arm loops to carry the weight on ones back. Placing his doll into the pack, he remembered to grab a ten-foot coil of dried vine to tie around his waist and some of his favorite rocks, including the sun-rock his father found while hunting near the Rest. Arranging things so his Rel was on top of things, he rushed back to the food plate to find that his mother already prepared a small pack for him. "Please tell Papa to remember to eat, Petrick. You know how he gets lost in his daydreams when trapping," she said with a smile as she slipped the lunch pack next to the doll. Petrick gave her the biggest squeeze he could and nuzzled her hip before practically leaping out the door.

He barreled along the branch from his home to the vined trunk and began his descent to the forest floor with instinctual hipling assuredness in climbing ability mixed with the practiced wrecklessness of youth. Dropping the last few meters down and landing on his rear with an oof, he rubbed his butt, then scampered off towards the river. Ducking and dodging the roots of the trees and other hiplings, Petrick slowed his pace slightly, getting distracted by a flower petal dancing among the greenery. He watched it for a bit, then grinned at no one in particular as the light from the sun breached the canopy above and shimmered off the leaf. "I'mma getchu, air dancer!" He chased after it, not noticing there was no breeze to hold the petal aloft, his leaping grabs too slow to lay hands on it. It twirled just out of his grasp once he thought he had it, spinning in lazy circles as if teasing him, making its way in the direction of the river. (While Petrick did not know it, Rel could see in the dreaming that a kami was playfully directing him towards the exact spot where his father was watching the river flow, perhaps?) While he watched the petal slow, he narrowed his eyes and waited, readying a jump to catch ahead of it. Counting three breaths, he launched himself up and forward over a small hillock, missing the petal as it flitted to the left. He giggled, watching it meander ahead of him, beckoning him to follow. "Good dodge, air dancer, but I need to get to my fa-" Petrick paused, noticing the large pool of black something at the base of the small hill. He looked at it, tilting his head to the side, not seeing the petal reverse course to flutter into his leaf-pack. It looked like water, but he had never seen black water before. He moved closer, noticing the greenery around the pool had splotches of black staining it; maybe it was a lot of berry juice? Sometimes berry juice could look dark if the sun wasn't shining through it. "Dark, yes, but not that dark..." a think drifted hazily through his mind; it didn't sound like his thinks, but it felt familiar. He moved closer to the black, grabbing a stick so he could poke at it, wondering what it could be if it wasn't water or juice. He gently poked at the liquid causing a slight ripple, barely breaking the surface tension just in case there was something in it, like those spiders that launched themselves out of holes to grab their breakfast. Pulling the stick back, Petrick noticed it was stained black, with the substance trailing slowly down as he held it closer to his face to inspect it. He didn't know what would happen if it touched him, so he lowered it towards the ground, accidentally scraping it against a rock. His nostrils flared with excitement when the black water's trail remained stationary on the stone; it was like the berry juice drawings his father did on the walls of the big hunter house! Maybe it was juice! Sniffing at it, it did not smell like anything he knew, but it didn't smell bad. He brought the stick up to his eyes again, the liquid now semi-dry, then he gave an exploratory lick. "Not juice!" he exclaimed as his face crinkled up as the flavor did not meet hopeful expectation. He dropped the stick to quickly get some berries and a nectarine slice out of his lunch pack, trying to get the flavor out of his mouth; it was much too bitter for him certainly, even worse than some of the leafy greens the grownups ate! He wasn't paying enough attention and cut a finger on the sun-rock's sharp edge, drawing his hand back out quickly with a gasp, a few droplets of his blood arcing into the black pool as he stuffed his finger into his mouth to suck on it. A breeze stirred around him as he sat down, tears welling in his eyes though he did not whimper, as much as he wanted to. In Petrick's mind, it was a deep cut that was surely going to bleed forever; in reality it was only slightly worse than a getting stung by a bee. With his good hand, he brought his leaf-pack between his legs and slowly pulled out his lunch as he still held his finger in his mouth, the taste of the substance now being surpassed by the flavor of himself. He undid the leafwraps and replaced his finger with fruit, his mind having drifted from the pain as it focused on the tart sweetness of the nectarine, not noticing his finger was beginning to heal.

As he was unfocused, he was surprised when something surfaced out of the black and looked around quickly. It looked like another hipling, only covered in the somewhat viscous gloop, before it dropped back down under the surface. Without thinking much beyond another hipling was in trouble, he untucked one end of his waist vine and threw it in the gloop, bracing himself against a rock to support both hiplings weight. After a few seconds with no tugging or any sort of movement, he drew the vine back to tie it around the rock, and hurled himself with closed eyes into the pool like his father did when Petrick fell into deeper water than he could handle. He blindly swung his arms around as he went under, trying to find the other hipling before anything bad happened, but found nothing other than pain as he smacked and scraped against the rocks on the sides. He sunk down to the maximum length the vine would let him, his hands feeling nothing but the walls of the well as his little lungs started to hurt, but he still pushed on. Maybe his feet could reach? He stretched his legs down as far as they could go, hoping the other would grab on, but there was no interaction other than him kicking at nothing. His thoughts started to get hazy, his need to breathe aching in his chest, as he started to realize he was down too long. He saw, in his mind, the the island from above; blurry and imperfect, smudgy little hiplings... He felt the vine vibrate and he drifted... Upwards, perhaps? Yes, he was being pulled up out of the black swiftly by strong arms that he no longer had. He breached the surface of the well, his limbs undetectably bloodied and battered underneath the thick goop, he dared not open his eyes. He felt the sponginess of moss being frantically swiped across his face, the last gasp of air exploding from him right as it was cleared from the dark substance, and he still dared not open his eyes. Petrick was taking in full gasps of air, just trying to fill his body with as much as it could, and only when he felt it was enough did he open his eyes. "Papa!" he shouted and began to cry, clearing trails down the sides of his face through the ink. "Whahow?" his words coming too quickly to separate. "I followed a pokbogbobobo. Nightbirds don't come out during the day unless it is important, so I went after it until I saw the vine tied to the rock," his father said while still wiping away as best he could. "Oh, my little Petrick, this was the most important thing of all important things! What, in Rel's teachings, were you doing?!" "There was another hipling in there, Papa! I was trying to save it, I was trying to be brave like you! I couldn't, I didn't... It went down too far..." Petrick whimpered and felt light-headed, "I tried..." was all he could get out before sleep took him. Right then, the hipling of the well emerged again, looking at them both sensing the curious mixture of chaos and innocence. Petrick's father stared at it, placing himself between it and his son, somehow knowing it wasn't one their own kind while looking enough like them for him to toss the vine close enough for it to grab in case he mistaken in his knowing. It watched motionlessly, until satisfied that this unruly feeling was just temporary wild emotion, and slowly sunk beneath the surface without so much as a ripple. No longer sure as to what to think, Petrick's father took half his lunch and tentatively lowered it into the black; if this was another kind of hipling, maybe it would be more talkative after food? Shakily, he picked up his son's belongings to put in his larger pack, gathered up his son into his arms, and began the trek home. How was he going to explain this to Rose?

Spoiler: Pokbogbobobo

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Spoiler: AP Spending

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AP Remaining at Rollover: 2
Rollover: 4
AP Spent: 0
New Total: 6

**DasIrrlicht** · 2023-10-26, 04:20 PM (ISO 8601)

Naury, while much happens, little of it is in common to form a headline for.

A disgruntled Alchemist, a dozen dead nobles. And a long time, nobody knew how they had done it. Traveling from city to city to seek employment under different nobles, they always just stuck around few days before parting again to work elsewhere. It was only as weeks later the ones they where employed under suddenly dropped dead that suspicion arose that anything could be wrong, and even after they have been caught the deaths continued for a while, only their latest employer having been lucky enough to apparently be spared that fate...

Of course, that noble investigated what killed so many of their kin, and alchemists from all over the chain where contacted to learn from the notes of the vigilante, to figure out what happened and develop counter measures... Instead, they found something much more valuable. A was to delay any alchemical reaction, no matter the kind. While combining it with a poison was as boring as it was harmful, this knowledge could be applied to many different creations instead. Soon, the dreaded 'Instant Explosion' that has claimed so many experimental alchemists could be tamed and the effects of cold flame could be extended from hours to weeks. Many applications would be found over time, but even the direct impact was shaking up the field.

Functionaries return to the Plane of Echos once their tasks are done. And retaining what they learned about the first world and posed with a taste for civilisation, it was only a question of time until the Echo-Servants started to organise. Instead of the odd group and general chaos of each doing their own thing, a vauge heirachy developed over time, its titles stolen from groups all over the first world and reused with a limited understanding of what they mean. Formally, Naury is at the top of the Heirachy, but the deity has become nervous, starting itself to distance from the stories of the souls, and dive more and more down with envoys just to live among the mortals a bit. However, they promised to always be there to solve disagreements as they come up.

Lets just hope that they manage to hold that promise...

Naury was getting more nervous for a while, a trait the Envoys do not seem to share as much as the original. They even seem to have taken up to pretend to rest, yet it does not fool the Echo-Servants witnessing that as the god obviously just gets lost in their own thought processes. One of the latest of such processes seemed to have ended with a need to find someone to talk to. And they knew just where to go, a place where always one person was, never really leaving it despite having made exist and entrances to it...

Yet when Naury entered the Great Library Akashic to seek out their 'brother', Mniminych, the place had a uncanny feeling about it. Large, ever filling shelves of books, piles and staples of research notes, and a dim, ambient light throwing inconsistent shadows around... Even the odd wall has been started to show scriblings on it, as one passes by. Any medium of writing that could be imagened would eventually show up... Even if the contents are often questionable.

So wearing a simple, dark robe, Naury wandered the place for a while, looking, searching for the divine entity at home in this plane...
Yet when they returned from from the Akashic to the Plane of Echos, weeks had passed. And they refuse to share who or what they saw in there, if anything. Or what became of Mniminych, if he even still exist or if something else is left behind then the god who was so engrossed with his task. What is certain is that Naury did not take it well.

While Naury is unwilling to share their experience, some of the Echo-Servants decided to travel the library themself. It was a hard task, being they can not survive without the energy given of by fading souls or other magical sources they had no access to in the Plane of Echos. However, their service as Functionaries came with the benefit of some access to things quite literally not from this world. Fragments of Orichalcum and only partly used Soul-Coins chief among them, some where able to brave the plane between.

Without the protection of the Functionary Deal, there was no life-line pulling them back as they run out of energy, and until they gained a better grasp on how much time they had many a Echo-Servant died trying to find something in Akashic to bring home to their own plane. But as the collection of their own grew, the Echo-Walkers soon came to find books seemingly holding some power to change reality... If ever so slight and fragile compared to the divine. Only the highest ranking of the groups where allowed to carry them and wield only as needed to better the life for them all.

And the first thing they did with the newfound power was quite simple yet carrying heavy weight of its own: A ambient energy in Akashic, enhancing magics performed there, and sustains the Echo-Servants as they wander the place. It is not the same as what they normally require, but it will suffice.

A stranger comes into a tavern. They pay in strange coin, buy a Lolipop from the merchant sitting next to them, and proceed to drown their worries in the mug. Later, after the stranger left, the merchant buys the coins of from the bartender at rates that can not be right for just some simple currency. Yet the bartender will not complain, for them its a good deal, the merchant probably was just drunk as they made the offer.

A stranger comes into inn, they sit in the corner, taking slow sips of their shine. They occasionally strike up conversation with some adventurers, sending them around to diverse places to fulfill some weird tasks, and they are always there when the adventurers return.

A stranger comes into a bar, the bottles are finely ordered along a shelf, and they make their order.

A patron enters a small little basement tavern in Dinas Penumbra. They order the usual, and talk with some of the other common guests. Nobody seems to know their name, and despite them being drinking and laughting with the others, nobody can quite remember having ever seen their face either. Regardless, it seems to raise their spirits to visit, and the pay is always good. They are not even the only regular who seems impossible to remember clearly, and the two seem to be friends...

Spoiler: Naury AP Spending

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5 AP ROUNDSTART
4 AP LEFT

2 AP - Create Sub-Concept (True Alchemy) [Society (Discovery) 6/10]

Alchemical Timing
When something is created in alchemy, its effects happen as soon as its conditions are fulfilled. That is true for every creation, and even the common potions in truth are only creating their final effect when coming in contact with a person. The discovery of a universal anti-condition... Name very much Pending, as Alchemists and Witches are likely will come up with their own each. This enabled the creation of many useful concoctions, from Mining Explosives, Fireworks and complex combinations of effects... To Regular Explosives, subtle Poisons that can go unnoticed for days and varied kinds of sabotage. It is no surprise that the 'negative' options found exploration first, yet positive applications quickly caught up.
Its intriguingly simple: Add it to a reaction just before its last step, and it will delay it until the substance is used up. It also has a distinctive smell of coal, which is its main ingredient of the most common ones. Some of the more complicated are able to release a consistent effect slowly until used up instead, or target specific reactions to form some sort of sequence.

2 AP - Create Racial Society [Law (Promises) 6/10]

The Echo-Walkers
Whats a society in a world that is unable to sustain change? Where your actions won't have a impact on anything around you? It can not possibly exist. But that is also the false premise, as there is something that stays in the Plane of Echos, acting and changing unlike how things are on the first world: The Echo-Servants themself.
They are a society build on Stories, Experiences, Promises, and things they managed to gather as Functionaries and bring back with them. One of the few physical things they managed to get a abundance from is books, which thanks to miss-transported soul coins they started to gather from the Akashic Library as Mniminych no longer keeps watch over the whole collection. They see every thinking being in the plane of echos as part of this larger group, which troublingly for Naury, seems to include the souls of the remembered and the Echos of the Flower Maidens (Who seem to live in both planes of existance at once as far as the Echo-Servants can grasp.)

2 AP - Blessing/Curse [Society (Discovery) 8/10]

A Library well Filled
Few knew who Mniminych was, has he only shown himself to the Bats and, if unintentionally, to the Gelatons. The few who knew he existed may think he died inside Akashic. Others may think he still walks his halls, writing down the history and knowledge of the world forever. The last who possibly saw him was Naury, or it was possibly an absence of him they found instead.
Regardless of the case, the Library will forever stay stocked with countless pages of knowledge, up to date and ancient alike, unknowable or common, it does not matter. As bats enter and leave this place, there will always be new books, plates, notes, writings... all showing up as nobody observes. In some cases, old bats who close in to the end of their natural lives have been witnessed to transform into books inside the library, yet there seem to always be more new pieces then the possible amount of bats that comes and goes.

3 AP - Create Minor Utility Artifact (Bless/Curse) [Law (Promises) 9/10]

The Walkers Collection
It is unclear how much of the power within the books is from 'The One Who Learns', how much was innate to the writings themself, and how much it is Naury who choose to help their flock. Whatever the case is, Echo-Servants with the books can perform small miracles, changing and influencing the rules of the worlds ever so slightly. There are however some limitations on it, as the effects are neigther instant, nor especially troubling for any higher being to just swat away.

0 AP - Blessing/Curse [MUA Charge]

Ambient Energies (Akashic)
The plane of The Great Library Akashic is filled with ambient magical energy. The ritual performed by the echo-servants was originally intended to make it easier to experiment with new magics or train ones still unknown, enhancing the abilities of anyone within to perform magics and learn. However, for the Echo-Servants, it is more important that it can serve as a way to sustain their bodies as they wander this place they where not made for.

0 AP - Mundane Concept [MUA Charge]

Alcohol
It can happen to everyone: Fruits age, and they develop a specific taste. Doing it on purpose to get a rush from, or use as a preservative or various other things, however, is something else. The Fools Potion. Bottled Bravery. Schnaps, Wiskey & Beer. The kinds and names are endless, every one being produced different. What they have in common is being made from plants (mostly) and makeing you drunk if you consume enough (Also mostly.) High enough doseage is lethal, and low enough plesant, and it varies for every individual. Some badly made one can even make you blind.

________
0 AP Left

Progress:
[Society (Discovery) 8/10]
[Law (Promises) 9/10]

**Zelphas** · 2023-10-27, 11:06 PM (ISO 8601)

In the Void, Above the Sky

Well, then, Salet is still here. What a lovely surprise. It had thought it would return as its counterpart did, but perhaps it had a bit more time...

Well. Time to do something with this world that had little to do with the rest of what was occurring.

Once again, a warm wind spread across the world, but this wind held no laughter--or, if it did, it was laughter from far away, lacking the closeness of Salet's earlier travels. This wind also remained, altering the currents and winds, centering especially in the empty triangle of water between the mountain chains. The warm wind drew the warmth up from the water, leaving a cold, cold sea, and shifted the currents to bring more, warmer air into the Triangular Gap. When cold water meets warm, wet air, you get clouds, and soon the center of the Triangular Chain was obscured in a dense bank of fluffy white, which eddied and shifted as the storm that prowled the Triangular Chain disrupted and restored the currents that fed it in a regular rhythm.

Deep within the white of the clouds, colors began to float; hazy blues, and faint oranges, and blushing pinks, and dark violets, and some brilliant golds--all the colors of a summer sunset over the endless ocean. These colors flocked and played, dove into the cold sea for fish and carried them up to their cloudy homes, shaped the clouds with their frolicking into fantastical shapes. They knew nothing of the outside world in the moment, their joy in each other.

The Third Feather

Another sharp shake of the Cloak of Many Feathers sent another of its namesake floating to the First World, this one a dazzling, shifting array of many different colors and shades. The feather drifted, drifted out towards the varied land of Adanat... and landed on a snake, where it remembered what it came from, and became.

Spoiler: OOC

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0 AP + 5 AP = 5 AP

Alter Land (1 AP) - Cumulernia: Due to very cold temperatures in its central ocean and several wind currents that funnel warm, wet air into it, the center of the Triangular Chain is now an eternal, massive cloudbank, which constantly shifts and changes forms due to the winds within it. Bits of cloud constantly break away and are carried off into the air and away from Cumulernia due to the storm in the Triangular Chain altering the currents, but these bits are replenished by the warm air without noticeably altering the size of the cloud. [Weather (Clouds) 1/10]

Create Race (2 AP) - Nimbi: The Nimbi are generally mammalian beings composed of a thin, hollow skeleton with long fingers, covered over by several sacs of fur and skin. Two special organs, one which is able to produce helium and another which produces heat, allow the Nimbi to inflate their sacs to float in the air or deflate and drop into the water, which is generally how they hunt for food. A Nimbus (individual term) only needs to eat once a month, subsisting upon sunlight and the water moisture absorbed by their thick fur and skin otherwise. Nimbi can be colored any color you can find in a vibrant sunset, and are generally playful, flighty, and short-sighted. [Weather (Clouds) 3/10]

Create Racial Society (2 AP) - Cumulonimbus: The Nimbi live in a simple collective; they share what they have as they have need, work with one another to help, and generally find peace and play whenever they can. The main focus of Cumulonimbus as a whole is discovering what has happened to those few of their number that have been carried away from Cumulernia by the shifting winds, and re-establishing contact if possible; they don't even conceive of other creatures than them and the fish, at least right now. [Weather (Clouds) 5/10]

Create Monstrous Life (0 AP, from CoMP) - Feathered Boa: Feathered Boas are ostentatious: their rainbow feathers are eye-catching, gaudy, and surprisingly tough, making them useful as mild protective gear as well as fashion statements. Feathered Boas hunt by mesmerizing their prey through their feathers and their eyes, then striking with potent poison in the distraction. They can slither through the air in an odd floating motion, making them far more evasive than one would first expect. Feathered Boas are intensely individualistic and hostile to nearly all life, though they will usually not kill non-prey unless they are forced to do so.

5 AP - 5 AP = 0 AP Remaining

**Mechalich** · 2023-10-28, 07:02 AM (ISO 8601)

Worlds Beneath and Within
The Sisterhood heard the news, the stories of war in faraway lands, the humans tearing at each other in conflicts of savagery to surpass even the wars of ants. Though they had superior crops to provide numbers, composite fabrics to provide defense, and deadly poisons as weapons, they nevertheless were uncertain if this was enough. Preparation could not be made piecemeal, it must be systemic, a united effort as they had committed in response to the horrible storms that tore the land or the arrival of the monstrous goblins.

And so they turned themselves not to the pursuit of construction or warfare, but to knowledge. Scholars who had once labored in isolation, pondering their observations beneath the hidden gaze of the kami for long years, now joined hands in correspondence, manipulation, and discourse. They debated, experimented, and reviewed each others understanding as only true sisters could, and formed in this way both a new methodology and a new branch of society.

They took, as always, inspiration from nature, translating ideas found into the myriad forms of living being into designs, methods, and tools. The world was part of them, and they were part of it, so this approach came to them intuitively. They even traded with the foreign for such knowledge and resources, drawings and specimens from faraway inland regions where the hands of the Sea Folk could not reach. From these small beginnings great forests would blossom.

Small beginnings indeed, for others among the Onna had turned their studies to the inorganic, especially the Yuki Onna of the frigid north where the spread of countless greenhouses linked directly to an explosion of their numbers. The play of light through glass, ice, snow, and water, and how it differed, fascinated them, and they devoted their ingenuity to mastering its possibilities. They learned to bend and twist light, to master reflections, to throw light from on mirror to another, and most profound, how to pass it through shaped glasses and unlock the power of magnification. Light bent through lenses unlocked a world of minute size, below the power of the eye to see.

This revelation, that whole worlds could be found in a single droplet of water, that life could be bound into tiny bubble-forms smaller than the point of the sharpest needle, exploded through the Onna. The world, already vast beyond imagining, multiplied in glory by orders of magnitude. That a world could exist with a droplet meant the worlds within them, worlds that had for so long considered simple and desolate, could be more, could be indeed, vast. In time, this too would grow into a focus of the sisterhood.

Spoiler: AP Actions

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Create Advanced Concept (2AP): Optics – The Onna have uncovered the properties of light and its manipulation. They can now produce mirrors, lenses, and optical timepieces. [Protection (Shelter) 5/10]
Create Advanced Sub-Concept (1AP): Microscopy – Onna glassblowers have created simple magnification lenses and bead microscopes. This has unlocked knowledge of the microscopic world for the first time. [Protection (Shelter) 6/10]

Create Advanced Concept (2AP): The Scientific Method – the Sisterhood has learned to organize observation, experimentation and review into a basic form of scientific process. Though still limited, it serves as the foundation for a high-level understanding of the world. [Protection (Shelter) 8/10]

Create Advanced Sub-Concept (1AP): Biomimicry - the Onna naturally draw inspiration from the world around them. What was once an informal observation process has now been tied to science and churns with active experimentation and deliberate study, unlocking endless possibilities. [Protection (Shelter) 9/10]

Create Organization (1AP): The Many-Handed Web – this grouping of scholars is the first scientific society. It begins among the Onna, but it would potentially permit membership by those of other species, if they could provide useful contributions. [Protection (Shelter) 10/10]

Domain Acquired: Protection (Shelter)
Starting AP: 2 Rollover Gain: 5 Spent:7 Remaining: 0

**Athedia** · 2023-10-28, 08:30 AM (ISO 8601)

Glikmora watched her children travel the land and wished she felt at peace. But the world felt like it had changed so much so fast since her wanderings. Her children were not safe on their wet island. The waters outside it teemed with danger and the lands even more. But her children deserved the right to explore, to take the chances.

So she set the Lolats to a Great Undertaking. Massive sledges were to be woven from the lightest materials they could find, grand ships. Silk was to be gathered and made into large sheets, many pocketed to fit the the sledges. And Glikmora reached out to the land.

There she found a small plant, un assuming in appearance but with a large capacity for converting the dead materials in the ground to gases that floated away. She enhanced the plant letting it expand its abilities and potential and then brought it back to her children.

The wisest of the Lolats knew what to do with this gift. In each sledge sat multiple light silk chimneys leading to a woven baskets that they had already started filling with the remains of food, local grasses and the insects that helped turn those into healthy soil. In each basket was planted one of the new plants named Tanal Dan by the Lolats.

The Dona built large tanks, some for the hydroponics that grew the plants for food but others as artificial ponds for their young. Only the Ota would board these ships, their bodies naturally built to protect them if they fell and hold to the decks. But the the nurseries would guarantee that future Lolats and Dona Lolats would be born.

Five great ships were built. Atodana (Growth Above Death), Telamol (Promise Searching), Adota (Land in Air), Mol At (Searching Growth), Lolatel (Lolat’s Promise). As their great balloons filled Glikmora joined the smallest of her children, making her form closer to their size. She would see where this adventure took them. She took with her a small horn which she handed to the Captain of the fleet. This horn she had imbued with some of her power, letting those who used to control the winds and weather around them.

The Captain took the gift in hand and with it the knowledge of their responsibility to their people. Lolat’s had traditionally organized with respect to generations and skill. But they were now the first true leader of their people. As they stood at the head of the great airship Lolatel they waited until all five ships were in the air. And then, facing to where Glikmora had told them the Triangle lay, they blew the horn.

Glikmora’s Wail stood with the remaining Lolats, fear and excitement filling the creatures eyes as the great balloons of the airships filled. It was to guide this land now, a creation born of Telas, destroyed and reformed by Glikmora twice over. And Glikmora’s Wail had plans.

Spoiler: AP Actions

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3 + 4 + 4 = 11 AP

Current Domains: Luck (Gambling), Amphibians (Bipeds), Fungus (Mold)

Bless (1 AP) Gas Plants (Tanal Dan): Specific to a plant from the Adanat swamplands, these plants produce excessive amounts of lighter than air gases when disturbed. [Water (Wetlands) 5/10]

Create Advanced Concept (2 AP) Airships: These massive floating structures use balloons made of silk to hold them aloft, the gas inside is produced by the Gas Plants, which in turn are fed decomposing material from the various stores the Lolat’s have. The Lolat’s small size is an advantage as they are less restricted by the cramped quarters. The Ota Lolats are the most common type to find on the ship, their stronger ability to grip and ability to glide on wind currents meaning the heights are less of a risk. Currently airships use silk sails and wind currents for propulsion, having no way of producing propulsion by themselves. Airships are vulnerable to fire, and any use of fire is closely watched and ready to be doused. [Travel (Air) 2/10]

Create Advanced Concept (2 AP) Lolat Nurseries: Specific to the Lolats, they have recreated the specific type of environment they need for hatching but in a form that will survive movement and travel. The types of Lolats made in each pond can be adjusted by changing the temperatures of the waters within. [Water (Wetlands) 7/10]

Raise Hero (2AP) Captain of the Fleet: The Lolat’s usually do not have true leaders, as in recent history Glikmora has directly filled that role. But as her need to depart soon grows she has started encouraging leaders to step up among the people. The Captain is the first, a title that can be passed to another as needed but who demands instant respect and authority among the Lolats. [Travel (Air) 4/10]

Minor Utility Artifact (3AP) Glikmora’s Call: Gifts the user the ability to control the weather (Blessing Action). It is an auroch horn gifted with Glikmora's power and is given to the Captain of the Fleet [Travel (Air) 7/10]

Artificat Use: Creating winds to get the airships moving toward the Triangle. (Bless Action)

AP = 11-10 = 1 AP

Water (Wetlands) 7/10
Weather (Rain) 2/10
Medicine (Toxins) 2/10
Truth (Deals) 5/10
Magic (Necromancy) 6/10
Travel (Air) 7/10

**AlexanderML** · 2023-10-28, 10:59 AM (ISO 8601)

The Chain, New Sights for Old Eyes

Even in the depths of Lilia’s Heart few besides the treior could say they have seen the wider blooming world of Desire Heart, full of dangerous blooms and tuatha willing to deceive, and come back whole. Yet many still found themselves wandering around aimlessly, those souls who yearned to be somewhere they ended up lost. The typical prey of tuatha such as Fairy Pond, Dawning Mountain Shrine, Demon Street, and others.

Sometimes lost souls about to be tricked into giving up their souls before meeting a terrible fate would find a skeleton there, offering a helping hand to them and a stern talking to the tuatha. To those unfamiliar with the world of flowers he sometimes appeared almost as threatening as the things he’d save people from, but his demeanor would pull many towards at least accepting his help in escaping Desire Heart.

Oftentimes the skeleton, Chymes, would follow the wayward travelers leaving Desire Heart; if only to ensure they had arrived somewhere safe. Yet one time Chymes met a strange person, one composed of slime head to toe.

Following them lead the skeleton to seeing an alkaline lake for the first time. Considering some of Chymes’s actions afterwards was somewhat painful, but he pulled through and took notes on what he discovered on one of his bronze tablets.

With the gelaton becoming a companion at his side, Chymes wandered around the strange land with its people near the coast so far removed from the lands and people he knew. He wore the power of glamor to avoid people asking too many questions about a talking skeleton, yet he was nevertheless caught out as a stranger who had to rely on his companion to avoid misunderstandings on numerous occasions.

Assembling a book out of the paper he found here, Chymes took notes on every city, town, or village’s oddities as he passed on by. He dotted down notes he took from what he could recall from others before. It made for a strange book, one bloated with pages yet sized as a thin book a human could hold in one hand. When asked how he did it, Chymes gave a tilt of the head that gave the impression of a smile and explained that he had someone help him with the details.

Eventually Chymes did settle down to do proper alchemical research in this land, deciding to work in an area where the mountain flowers bloomed beautifully and the people made flower circles; he began to live as an alchemist among a small village community. The weird man in the woods who had cures and solutions to all sorts of problems sort of villager. He had to say goodbye to the gelaton companion here, but he gave them as many powerful flowers as he could before they left.

While his role in the community gave him ample enough resources to work with, time was an issue he needed to sort out. Taking on apprentices he taught them his tricks like he did with the people in Kish-Eru. Before he knew it the Meadow Bloom Witches had been formed, though he would admit if pressed that he did use Lilia’s Promise to help this along… just to save time! And it was a good thing too, because Chymes noticed that the tuatha grew ever more interested in the world of mortals, unwilling to wait for souls to come to them and instead took it upon themselves to hunt for them.

Spoiler: AP Actions

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5/20 AP

-3 AP Create Minor Utility Artifact (Create Mundane Concept) - Chymes’s Journal: This tome appears as a small book that could be held in one hand and feels as though it contains only a hundred pages within. Yet those who open it find that it contains an infinite number of pages, though many of them are blank as information has to be manually entered into it. Those who deeply read from the journal may find details of particular peoples customs or natural phenomenon that can be used as inspiration.

(Artifact Charge) - Create Organization - Meadow Bloom Witches: Starting from the apprentices of Chymes these witches practice alchemy for the mutual benefit of themselves and their communities. Unlike the witches of the old bloom who study arcane magic, Meadow Bloom Witches practice pact magic made with Tuatha; for whom Chymes has made them both weary of and respectful towards.

Meadow Bloom Witches reside in the Meadow Tower, a large institution where new witches are trained and research is conducted.

(Artifact Charge) - Alter Land - Meadow Tower: A large earthen construct in the mountains overlooking a meadow this spiraling construct of dirt and flowers acts as a meadow that enters the sky. It houses numerous minor buildings made with alchemical and magical oddities.

(Artifact Charge) - Bless - Meadow Dust Blooms: A ghostly white flower that when dried becomes a sugar. This substance is unusually appealing to Tuatha and Beloved. Only being near the flowers when they dry taints one with Lilia's Love, the simple act of consuming the sugar does not.

(Artifact Charge) - Create Mundane Concept - Tea: A habit that Chymes has picked up and made popular in the Chain and among Lilia’s cultists is that of being particular with tea. Ritual and complexity in tea drinking are things that spring up in the places he visits.

(Artifact Charge) - Create Monster - Terror Wings: These creatures act as vigil guards against scouting units, the terror they produce in others so great as to have them scream out in fear or otherwise stumble in such a way as to make their presence known. Sometimes used to find fleeing targets, Terror Wings are no more physically dangerous than a typical bird beyond the fear they induce.

Spoiler: What they look like.

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Community (Witches) 5/10

**Demidos** · 2023-11-02, 01:16 AM (ISO 8601)

The first sign that they are close are the floating mountains. Three at the moment, to be exact, though they endlessly rise, fall, and change. A shifting mosaic of earth, rearranging itself like a chessboard, biomes of all classifications wildly spinning in a beautiful dance. Wheeling firedrakes and bloodsucking insects native to Bhal’nabool, somehow grown to titanic size, glide between sections of moving terrain, moving from forest to mountain and back again. The two Inksworn look at each other, and then Lance that Leaps like Fire sighs deeply.

“Well this certainly wasn’t here last time I passed through here. I hope your Title took us to the right place. Because I don't fancy going into that without an army at our backs.”

Singer of Rumors nods jerkily as they watch a colossal millipede drag a writhing firedrake into its hungry maw, ashen face paling further at the thought of having to jump between shards of moving landscape while warding off the hungry predators. Although it seems that few of the undead that seem to permeate the forest are here, everything is large, larger than it has any right to be, and the undergrowth beneath the enormous trees is teeming with life. With a flash of flames Lance that Leaps like Fire is gone, leaving a smoking lance in his place. Singer of Rumors gingerly grabs hold of it, half a muffled scream escaping as he is yanked up into the air by the living spear as it darts towards the nearest island.

—-------
Sagmi, watching from afar, smiles gleefully to herself as she reaches into the pages of her book and draws forth an item shrouded in fabric, a faint multi-hued glow piercing the heavy material. Turning away from the two Inksworn, she hums as she walks with light steps that cross leagues at a time, moving towards the coast. A shifting of fabrics causes a beam of light to shoot forth from the shrouded object, briefly illuminating a small trade ship headed to Kish-Eru and almost causing a drowsy sentry to fall from his post into the sea. Sagmi steps into the humble cottage of an old Sea-Folk woman, fast asleep as the midnight hour draws near. With uncharacteristic gentleness, Sagmi tucks the object below the woman’s pillow before retreating into the shadows.

Spoiler: AP Actions

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1 AP Alter Land – Sagmi tweaks the nature of Bhal’nabool, making it sensitive, or morphic in the presence of objects and creatures with powerful enough stories. For example, this allows divine items such as relics/artifacts to alter their surroundings by their mere presence within the forest. A hero or avatar would have the same effect. For instance, the Fathomking might bring a tide with him that changes parts of the forest into an aquatic wonderland, or Harkit might bring a rain of blood. Typically the effect takes a few weeks to begin to happen, and will only affect a small area of the forest. Increased time or divine power spent in the same area of the forest will hasten and widen the effect (for example using an artifact charge or initiating a combat between heroes). Creation(Relics) 8/10

0 AP (Cleaver of Continents: Wielder ?????) – The Mosaic Lands: A shifting landscape the size of the Adriatic Sea consisting of chunks of earth that look carved up from the ground as if with an immense knife. These chunks of earth lift up, fall, and move independent from the constraints of gravity. Forests, mountains, lakes, and other biomes shift and rearrange constantly. Creatures living there are also much larger than usual, especially the insects which grow to hundreds of times larger than their original sizes. Life is adapted to the constant movement of the landscape.

0 AP Greater Utility Artifact Charge (Tome of Wonders): Reduce AP to create Lantern of Myriad Truths.

2 AP Create Artifact(Lantern of Myriad Truths): A prismatic lantern covered in slowly shifting runes of multicolored light. When this light falls upon written text it slowly shifts and alters the text to eliminate falsehoods. By constant trial and error, lies can be found out, secrets discovered, and new fields of research explored. However, prolonged exposure to the Lantern’s light causes most creatures acute terror and even mental damage as their many failings and shortcomings are indelibly laid bare before their eyes. 10/10 Creation(Relics)

0 AP Greater Utility Artifact Charge (Song of Heroes): Curse – Restlessness of the Worthy: In every species, in every society, those who would be villains or heroes grow restless and dissatisfied with the tedium of day to day life. Individuals across the world feel an emptiness, a need to find what's across the next mountain range, and wanderers and long-range travel become far more common.

10/10 Creation(Relics) Complete!

Accounting:
2 AP+4 Rollover AP -3 AP = 3 AP

**Athedia** · 2023-11-02, 08:52 AM (ISO 8601)

The Captain of the Fleet watched the mountains approaching, not believing their eyes. Glikmora had estimated the Triangle Chain as over a weeks travel but here this was, tall mountains bristling past the clouds on the horizon. Approaching to fast. The airships could not climb above the clouds, they had tried but the dampness made feet slip and even the grippy pads of the Ota could not hold them to the airships. The visibility also raised the risks of them crashing, flying so closely in formation as they were.

The Captain summoned one of the fastest Ota in the fleet and sent them to speak to their Goddess. She had been spending much of her days staring listlessly out at the ocean, lost in grief and thoughts. The Captain hoped the sight of the land she and Naury had spoken of would excite her.

The reaction was not as The Captain had hoped. One of confusion and strangely hope. But her message was understood. This was not the Triangle Chain, not the land of her circular wandering.
This was new land. And she would make it safe to pass.

Yet she did nothing as they came ever closer. The Ota muttered amongst themselves, trusting in Glikmora's words that all would be safe, but not knowing how to cope with the scale of the obstacle.

And then she folded her hands and focused, pushing them away from each other until the only parts touching were the base of her palms and her fingertips, forming and upside down triangle. And the mountains mimicked her actions, the earth inside them shifting out of the way to form a rough shape a kilometer long at the top, narrowing down to a point at the bottom. A passage through the mountains. A triangle, the Ota said, for this passage was a reminder of where they were to go.

The land on the other side of the path was strange, a bowl shaped depression, filled with trees and streams and everything the Lolats might desire. But the Captain saw the second passage, formed at the same time as the first and ordered the airships forward. Next journey the Land Between Triangles, Adcuton, could be explored. But not this time.

Spoiler: AP Actions

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Current Domains: Luck (Gambling), Amphibians (Bipeds), Fungus (Mold)

Alter Land (1AP) The Triangle Pass: The earth in the mountains on the southwest and northeast sides (along the line drawn from Adanat to the Chain) of the great mountains surrounding Rel's Pocket (Called Adcuton, Land Between Triangles by the Lolats) has been pushed aside to form two rough triangles a kilometer wide at the top, along a straight path. All the ores/minerals in that section have been shifted to the sides of the hole, creating dense pockets of ores/minerals. There is enough space for the multiple airships to travel through without issue. [Travel (Air) 8/10]

1-1= 0 AP

Water (Wetlands) 7/10
Weather (Rain) 2/10
Medicine (Toxins) 2/10
Truth (Deals) 5/10
Magic (Necromancy) 6/10
Travel (Air) 8/10

**DasIrrlicht** · 2023-11-02, 10:10 PM (ISO 8601)

People of the Chain, and off-the-chain, and so on...
'The Witches of the Old Bloom' where a hard nut to crack. The Merchant Guild had always had a bit of a troubled relationship with them, their attitudes as organizations very much contradict each other. However, they are united in being mostly peaceful in direct contact... Even if the arms trade truly makes some of the more dedicated pacifists of the Witches recoil, as it should if the city truly knew where the weapons come from. And since it was not possible to get their secrets the conventional ways of commerce, another approach was attempted.

Spying it out. The methods used by the guild tended to be a bit primitive, but bribery, blackmail and in more then one case subversion do in the end deliver results. Not the results the Guild had been looking for however: While the Witches where seemingly successfully underwanderd, at least for the time, the knowledge gained from them was mostly about local plants. Mirage Blooms and their apparent powers which yet seemed to be impossible to activate outside of some potions the Witches have come up with, a weird obsession with True Ice Flowers even more so then the alchemists on the chain... But the only truly useful discovery was that something kept slipping away.

There was some second group, surrounded by 'The Witches of the Old Bloom' but not actually part of it. It may even be closer to say that the Witches where unknowingly part of the hidden organization behind them. Getting into that circle however proofed to be seemingly impossible. Even getting hold of members turned out to be a fools errand, as every time the Guild believed they got them, they slipped away. Every time a Countermeasure was decived, a new way for them to flee was found... Abandoned Hideouts that where seemingly just in use hours earlier, groups of people that seemingly just vanished of the map, even the occasional missed merchant who turns out to never have been loyal to the guild in the first place...

At the very least, one could learn from the adversary. Every failure is still a step towards better methods, and mastering a art the Merchants before did not even know was truly a art.

The storm is right on time to pass along the east of the triangular chain. The Gelaton however was not.
The weather is troubling for the liquid creature, forcing it to hide and sit it out.
Normally, they would just stick to buildings, carry a umbrella whenever having to move between them, maybe hold themself to streets covered by market-stalls and their sail-coverings.
But they where late, and now stuck at a underhang waiting for it to pass in a few days.
Yet, waiting there turned out to be not as boring as it could have been, as the heavy winds carried in... something alike a person, in a way?
The being looked a bit like a cloud, yet they had a face and fingers stretching from what can only be assumed to be the head... Maybe their whole body is a head?
The winds nearly carried the Nimbi away again, out from under the hang. But the Gelaton could not let that happen. The fear was obvious on the cloud-face.
So they grabbed them by one of the fingers, leaving slight burn marks where the alkaline matter touched the soft skin and furs.
It was short, and painful, but the Nimbi was dragged deeper below the underhang until the winds no longer carried them away and the Gelaton could release their grip.
It sure was an akward first meeting, but it was a meeting non-the-less. Until the storm passes by the end of the week, and they can part ways again.

With as many foreign weapons as pass over the ocean every week, it was only a question of time until the nobles of the northern cities of the chain got curious where they come from. So first, they started investigating in the other cities. Afterall, if there was some master smiths on the chain, whoever was in control of them would have a reasonable advantage if there is another case of violent infighting, as it has happened sometimes over the years.

A easy claim would have been that they where made in Port Tale, but such would only delay the discovery, especially as the Starbirds keep improving communication. Another cover had to be found, and thankfully, a oppertunity arose. The guild has been keeping a eye on potential blacksmiths of the empire to rope into the weapon trade, ones that would not care to much what happens as long as they keep up their side of the deal. Thanks to some spying eyes, they managed to find some smiths that 'Failed the Cult of the Burning Sun' and sheduled to be 'Consumed' soon. The nature of their offense: Remorse.

Apparently, they have kept some children save after a village was raided, hid them below their workshop, where they performed some labour but where safe from the empires indoctrination. It was good enough for some souls to be paid around, have the assassins guild strike. Despite the Assassins glorifing murder just as much as the Empire, a deal was a deal, and most of the smiths could be freed before their ritual execution. Yes, even the children where collected. Apparently, the timing overlapped with a attack of another Organization , a 'Empty Larder' of some kind. Many of the prisoners that had been freed to hide the traces even have come to join the rebels afterwards, a circumstance very benefitial to the guild.

The Smiths and their 'Apprentices' where transported over to the Chain not long after being freed. From then, they started to spread their methods, while at the same time discovering the world of 'not everything has to be a weapon'. Its not surprising how fanatism had them blind to the options for so many years...

Fishers are not rare near 'The towering Island'. Its shadows proved to be a good fishing ground, as unlike near the hands, there where seemingly no spiders hanging below trying to fish out the fishers. Of course, the towering island has proven to somehow be even harder to climb then the hands outstreched. Sea air kept the outside wet and slick, and even the people that where able to climb it would have to resist the song of the ocean first. So any attempts made have been given up or failed quite a while ago...

Well, the fishermen where sure they have lost their mind when a hole opened up high, high in the towering islands... And boats came out. Not much bigger then the fishing boats they use. Above the boats where large spherical sails... Simply put, there was a lack of words to describe it otherwise as this... Skyboats turned with the wind towards the Triangular Chain. And curiosity does push the fishers to hurry back to their piers, if the wind stays as it is, they may manage to return home before the Skyboats reach the mountains.

The island of Talewako might as well not be part of Eresalay. The people living there are not allowed to enter the continent, and the local way of living is rather odd on its own. There is very few things they can trade with the locals, so as the Merchant Guild decided to settle there, Profits where initially Low. Of course, thanks to the import and export of weapons that where alchemical enhanced there have been made quite a few improvements. Yet it was a new product that finally gave them the smallest bit of a 'in' with the Onna.

Tea. And technically Alcohol, but the Onna seemed only to care for that one in its purest form for 'medical purposes'.

So a very small trade started: Luxury good for Luxury good. The locals get to enjoy tea and whatever they do with near-pure alcohol, and the People of Port Tale gain access to some Glassware, and other small, more advanced knick-knacks. However, there was no trust that this trade would hold up in the people of Port Tale. The Onna have proven to be exceptionally cold to them, cursing the humans as primitive savages and outsiders, and the Gelatons as freaks and little more then just slimes pretending to be people. The Onna may had enough compassion to share the Concrete with them as the sun has dammed the world once again, yet that was again the end of most interactions.

So the Lady gave the Merchant Guild approval when they came around with a simple plan. Using the minor in from the trade, and some of the more advanced potions they have managed to get from the Witches, a small group would sneak onto the main continent, hidden among the wares that had to be transported dry. They would quickly move inland to avoid the most watchful eyes and then spy out some of the more off-the-road locations where Masters perform their work. Glassblowing, meltingdown, reforming. It was studied from afar as long as their resources could keep them hidden.

Even the mandatory combat training the Onna now recived could be abused in the final days of their mission. The starting of a fire at the other end of the village dragged the attention away in the fear a tiger has come to close, so the theft of some of the glassmakers tools ended up with little difficulty. There was made a small attempt to frame goblins for the crime, essencially by just leaving some of the tools near a recently killed one to hopefully have the ones that where sure to follow up use them as improvised weapons.

In the cover of the last of their potions and a night of new moon, the tools and knowledge have been brought to Talewako. The next ship leaving the port did carry them off-continent. Even if the Onna guess right what had happened, the proof would be far away, on the Triangular Chain. Non of the new Glassmakers shall settle in Port Tale, to keep the Bloodsilk Order in the Dark about the happenings.

The Inksworn that lead the small group managed paied well. That is afterall why they followed that guy. Most of the Mercenaries could honestly not remember the title, what they knew was that their employer managed to get in trouble with the adventure guild, and decided to just get mercenaries to lead into battle instead. Some kind of self declared Grand Magician, that was. They themself where mostly your typical soldiers of fortune: Expensive Armours, well made, alchemical enhanced Swords and Bows, feathers in their caps and helmets denoting them as a group more so then as individuals.

They have been following that man for quite a while, and Bhal’nabool was a pain to cross. The odd conflict with the local insects usually ended with them burned to crisps, while the firedrakes have fallen mostly to the mercenaries as the employer refused to use any magic that does not burn the foes to crisps. It took them days to get further in until they finally hit what they where looking for: The Blood Fields. Blood Flower Forest. Whatever it calls itself, the place of bones and giant wasps and bloody vines and parasites and any other kind of pain one can imagen. Thank the divine the payment is good and the stories will be worth it if they survive the coming weeks.

The original plan of the Employer to just go in and burn it all down has quickly been stopped as they learned that most of the things where non-flamable. or if they did burn, they where supposed to burn anyways. Instead, something different had to be done. Hiding out in the more inaccessible parts just of the side, they left in small groups to kill of whatever kinds of enemies they could find that patrolled the area and then fall back again before they are found. While it took some of their alchemical flames to do it they managed to burn of the flowers of many a skeleton, and simply sliced appart goblins until there was no risk of them getting back up anymore.

Scream Eaters where however a more worrying encounter. Giant, deadly mangled piles of corpses fused into monsters with a flower like head. Going for the handlers turned out to be rather effective, yet the monsters themself needed a lot of extra work to go down. Trying to bait them into traps to cripple their limbs was the best option they managed to come up with, yet every single Scream Eater was a source of bad news...

Around the end of the second week, the size of the group has nearly halved, and the Inksworn suddenly vanished into the fields. They said something about 'The Reward they have been coming for, so they can burn the empire down to its walls.' before leaving, but the Mercs naturally did not know what to do with that info. Either way, even with the Employer gone, they still had a week left on their contracts. Maybe they can get down a little bit more devastation to the enemies numbers before returning home and letting someone else deal with it, or be re-hired with the new experience they have at a higher rate.

Except Old Jeremy of course. His wife was to soon have a child, so he decided to retire once the week is over. This paid enough that he could afterall.

Spoiler: Naury AP Spending

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5 AP ROUNDSTART
1 AP - Teach Advanced Concept [Law (Promises) 10/10]

Espionage
'The craft of spying and acting unseen.' It is a useful craft, and anyone can attempt it. But some groups mastered it, made it a form of art. The Merchant Guild learned from said artists, ironically because the performance outranked their own so much that they where able to study what and how it happened. The details are of course a secret of its own, but like with everything the guild does, its a service that is on sale. Soon, spies from the guild will be active where ever they work, sometimes even in the service of the local powers, such as the People of the Chains Nobility.
This knowledge does however help keeping their own secrets closer as well.

1 AP - Teach Mundane Concept [Society (Discovery) 9/10]

Metalworking
The Copper, The Bronze, even the impure Iron. Some form of smithing is easy to figure out and replicate once one has seen it. Being good at it however is a fully different situation. Finer details, more resilient casts, reliable qualities. With a bit of creativity, metal can be helpful in every situation. Weapons and Armour are the obvious examples, yet the Nail is what can keep a whole civilisation together. The conception of saws changed building forever. Bells can inform a far away person of a event at the speed of sound, regardless how they are occupied. Getting good at metalworking changes societies at fundamental levels.

1 AP - Teach Advanced Concept [Society (Discovery) 10/10]

Glassware
Glass was valuable, for its countless of uses and fragility making it more common in need of replacement. So every single piece had to be kept in more care. The Onna found many uses for glassware as they found ways to reuse shards, clean away flaws and create more consistent tools. But like nearly all of their advancements in fields the rest of the world straggles behind, they kept their secrets away from strangers. Alchemist in special found however great uses for the pieces they managed to obtain from minor trade, so soon the demand for glassware rose, and with it, acquiring the ways of the Onna had become rather important on its own.

0 AP - Mundane Concept [MUA Charge]

Mercenaries
People fight for survival. People fight for a cause. People fight for the feeling it gives them. But some people just figure out that they are good at fighting and decide to sell that. iven, there is a certain overlap at times, few choose the profession of a mercenary without wanting to get into a battle. While everywhere where there is warriors or soldiers, there is some whoes loyalty is bought, some places rely more on them then others, or have even a support system around it to enable them to use mercenaries better. Others in turn shun them for their line of work... But when their services become needed, few can resist the allure of having someone else fight your battles for you.

________
2 AP Left
1 MUA Charges

Progress:
[Society (Discovery) 10/10]
[Law (Promises) 10/10]

**Fuzzy Math** · 2023-11-03, 12:14 AM (ISO 8601)

In somnis, quaecumque sunt, somnia parum somnium mihi
In your dreams, whatever they be, dream a little dream for me

Rel twisted in his slumber, minor gasps escaping his lips as his features took on a horrified countenance, his dreaming was troubled indeed. It started out relatively jovial (though with moments of childlike intensity), with a light-hearted vision of one of the littler Hiplings, soon faded to a blackness that his divinity intrinsically knew to be the Void. This. This was not his, but he did not feel he was trespassing. The Void was filled with cosmically large creatures that were only slightly less black to his eyes, speckled with star-like emanations, this place was unlike anything he had ever encountered. Rel marveled at the things, his mind meandering to wonder if the Star Mantas knew the sheer pleasure of lazily drifting along empyrean currents, when he became aware of a feeling that was not his own. This was an emotion he had not felt in a long, long time; Suffering... His gaze was drawn downwards to the First World, the feeling intensifying the longer he looked, his focus shifting to only slightly below the Terra Whales. What his vision trailed across was the source of the suffering and his essense ached for them.

He saw other creatures not of his making; bipedal hominids that anguished against each other, that devoured each other, that bought and sold each other's bodies for simple and twisted pleasures. He saw divine sparks leaving their bodies, either to form into round trinkets, be consumed, or sidestep to a hazy place that vaguely resembled the world they just left only to fade away. His dreamings wouldn't form these unpleasant concepts; war, cannibalism, selling of flesh... No, there must be other dreamers like him, but not like him in the ways of creation. Even the plantlife in these areas were harsh and lethal, filled with a poison he could sense was not natural, created by another dreamer. He peered closer at that, sensing that it clouded the mind with- Love? It was unlike any sense of love, outside of certain points, he understood; there was an aspect of nurturing, of caring, of looking past mistakes, those he could comprehend, as a parent loves their child. Yet, it was subverted somehow, as if the child was expected and demanded to adore a parent that could do no wrong. More insidious, it was in just about every plant this other created, even the innocuous ones that seemed to provide minor benefit when consumed. There was something more, something buried... Like a child who desperately craved unconditional love, to be noticed, but not knowing how to... The thought left his mind as he saw creatures amongst the leaves, that had no spark in them, yet still moved; skeletons with flowers growing from their bones, dead flesh combined with plantlife that resonated silence around them to better stalk their prey. From the oceans surrounding the land he felt a certain madness and sense of superiority; extending his awareness slightly, Rel felt the enmity of the Sea-folk towards the peoples of the land of the First World. Driven to the point of warped perception by loneliness and grief, they had come to view what they once were as something to be reviled. He shook his head, suppressing a shudder, when he saw something that made his eyes begin to water with impotent anger and sadness. The slaying of the kami, as their natural habitat was overwhelmed by civilizations and dreamers that held them in little regard, if at all, the Loci of these people adopting their apathy and hunger. While unfortunate and disheartening, Rel could come to terms given the the kamis' resilience and that another dreamer intervened to have these kami instead be subsumed into the greater loci, letting them have a continued existence albeit one that was greatly diminished. No, the scene that truly disturbed him to his core was the twisted perversion of a kami that sat upon the head of one of the worst creatures he has witnessed so far. The ever-present drink in his hand trembled, the glass forming a crack as his grip tightened unconsciously, before his eyes closed. He had to look away from these things, not wanting these feelings to cloud his vision or hopes for this world. "No idea survives the first draft; there are always improvements that can be made." Rel muttered to no one in particular. He looked back up towards the Void, watching the Terra Whales glide through the sky while little clouds chased in their wake, waiting for the moment of furious melancholy to pass while he pushed the suffering out of focus.

As his thoughts emptied, another feeling came unbidden into his awareness. Struggle... He grunted, trying to hold on to the bliss of an empty mind, but it slipped away. "What is it now? It's always right when I'm about to relax." His gaze turned back to the First World, focusing on a large piece of marshy swampland, where it looked as if fresh water only came from seasonal rains. He moved closer and observed the life there, watching the industrious frog-folk adapt and overcome their hardships, marveling at their ingenuity as they built their skyships. There was another dreamer at work here, he realized, one that cared for their creation as Rel did the Hiplings. Perhaps he doted on them too much, but the world was going to be harsh enough to the species created by the other dreamers, that maybe preserving the curiosity and kindness of at least one group of First World creatures would be worth it. He smiled softly then, tucking that memory away for safekeeping, should everything go to pot there will at least be that little bit of hope still left for him to work with. "There must be more to explore here, the frog-folk can't be the only creatures that aren't malicious of spirit or focused on personal gain." Rel mused to himself as he let his senses drift. "Down. Under the ground." his dreaming mind lazily spoke to him. Quizzically, he went along with it, going deeply past the dirt and rock into a cavernous tunnel system under the marshland. In the darkness, he felt the many sparks of another dreamer, so he stayed there a moment for his vision to adjust. Once sight came slowly back to him, he saw worm-like entities with many tentacles and large mole-like creatures swimming through the rock. There were other variations of these wigglers that gave him pause simply because of their alienness; made of fleshy wiring that seemed to be able to wrap around and control the rock-swimmers. He blinked for a moment, trying to comprehend what he was seeing. A symbiotic creature perhaps? The furred beast did not seem to be suffering at least, so Rel mentally shrugged and just tried to get a feel about these sapient, wriggling, worm-people. Deciding they were not outwardly hostile, he nodded and drew himself back up. They too, like the froglings, were trying to make the best of the life they were given. There was a wary tug on his awareness, likeness or kinship, perhaps? Letting the pull take him, he stopped above a mixture of deciduous and coniferous forests, taking in the scent and sights. While these forests were certainly as voluminous as those in the Pocket, he didn't understand why he was drawn here, not at first anyway. While he watched below, he spotted what looked like a solid kami, with pine needles growing from a pale green scalp. Not sensing much in the way of innate magical ability like the other creatures he has seen, he wondered what it was that drew him here, maybe the slight spark of a kami? He watched the creature take in the world around it, then seem to consider something was of interest, and that's when Rel felt the kinship again. It was analyzing! It was studying the world around it and adapting it for the use of her people, mentally drawing schematics! Absolutely fascinating... True, his Hiplings weren't at this level yet, but he had hopes they will get there eventually. He wanted them to develop slowly, to not get ahead of themselves for fear of unintended consequences, but there was at least another dreamer the sheer joy of Making!

Maybe there were some creatures that wouldn't just demolish his little ones, maybe... "Soon enough, with proper preparations, a few of the braver ones will explore past the trees. But not yet, not yet; let them learn more of the world around them first before they truly begin to understand. There's time enough, I hope." Rel chuckled at the thought of a Hipling serving on one of those skyships, bringing a sense of mirth to the froglings as it would do its best to emulate their ways, but that was likely just wishful amusements. While in a more heartened state, he saw other creations, like the giant banyan trees dotting across certain sections of the world. The lotuses as large as his bungalow, with thick pliable petals that could be woven into protective clothes, and large edible leaves. Bags of feathers that seemed herbivorous that practically exploded with dust and feathers when threatened. Thrumming courses of magical power that teemed with infinite possibilty, but tainted by the shapings of others. He then saw something truly curious; a hominid that seemed to draw into their mind, their body vanishing along with what they held, then reappear minutes later in the same spot carrying foodstuffs instead of what they vanished with. "A mortal that can enter the Dream? Perhaps that will be the key..." His dreamself drifted back up into the Void, dodging a manta as it caught a solar wind, and for the briefest moment he thought he caught a glimmer of sentience from the Sun.

His eyes opened slowly, as he groggily wiped his face, waking from the dreams. He continued laying on the lounge, hearing the croaking of the frogs native to the Pocket mixed with the patter of a gentle rain. Rolling off into a standing position, he started to realize that perhaps his dreamings were just as real as to what he could do within this area, which made him shiver despite the relative warmth of his surroundings. If that's true, perhaps it would be time to start working on some of the ideas trickling into his thinking. Rel walked out of the bungalow to his workbench where he drew out some rough sketches of two large separate semi-circles of spiraling tubes, made of orichalcum mixed with wood to make a living metal that would be connected and intertwined amongst the roots of banyan trees encircling the island with two metaphysical openings next to each other on each end.

Spoiler: Writer's Note

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I'm trying to describe two spiraling Greek Omega symbols that mirror each other horizontally, and failing horribly.

The only spot bare of the banyans along the circle would be the mountains, with the tubes going through the stone, sending out dendritic tendrils to absorb the metals within. The roots of the banyans delve down deep into the island, drawing forth more orichalcum and other metals to be integrated into the system, connected to the massive roots of a truly colossal tree at the center of the island like spokes. This tree would dwarf all the others, piercing the canopy to gather the purifying light of the Sun in leaves made of hardened glass containing gold filament and chlorophyll, with roots, trunk, and limbs made of the living orichalcum enhanced wood. It would bear all the fruits, berries, and other vegetation native to the island amongst its branches, along with hollowed spaces for the little ones to reside in, a veritable Hipling metropolis at one with the nature around them. He sketched in the likeness of the Hipling elder's face they see when they speak with him into its massive trunk so they would always feel welcome amongst its embrace and so the next part of the design could take place.

Rolling up the sketches and placing them in one of the deep pockets of his robe, he walked through the hedge gate, his strides purposeful. He paused outside the gate when five massive shadows quickly crept over the ground. Looking up above the lowland foothills, where there trees did not block the sky, he saw the skyships of the froglings rushing towards the Rest. His eyes widened with alarm; they were going too fast and wouldn't be able to turn past the mountains in time. Reflexively, he raised his hands and felt his will rush towards his fingertips to make way for them, when he felt the presence of another Dreamer grabbing hold of the mountainside. The sound of the stone shifting echoed down and through the Pocket, certain to be noticed by the Hiplings and pique their curiosity, as a triangular opening a little more than half a mile wide formed in the Rest for the skyships to pass through. "Huh. Guess I'll have to send a fruit basket as way of apology for making the mountains too large. Once I know where to send it, anyway." he grunted with a shrug. Continuing on his way, Rel's perspective shifted while he was walking, getting closer to the ground as he took on his Hipling persona when entering their periphery. He warmly hugged each of them on his path to the nexus of their villages, listening to their adventures and little triumphs throughout, all while mentally pushing an urge for them to gather the others. He wanted to speak to their Loci, to share with it what he saw while dreaming, which would likely spread back to the Hiplings through the communal connection. "Is it possible to have a gentle unkindness?" he wondered to himself. "I know I wanted them to have time to advance slowly, but the world will come to them sooner than later. As much as I know this will cause them fear, maybe that fear will guide them to overcome and see that their kindness, their wonder, is needed to make this world something worth the dreaming." Once all of the Hiplings had gathered around him, row after row in a large crescent, he turned from them with arms raised and pushed his senses out to call to the Loci. There was a stirring of the air, as loose dirt, water, and plant matter coalesced into a giant Hipling with a copious mossy beard, sitting on a massive fallen tree. "You are Rel, the Unburdened." it gently rumbled in the tongue of the Hiplings. The little ones grew quiet; not afraid, but curious as to what they were seeing before them. "Though perhaps not so unburdened, if you seek words with us. What troubles you, does it concern the Hopeful?" it asked quizzically as it looked over him to the assembled Hiplings. The one Rel recognized as Petrick ran past him towards the Loci and stopped at its feet to stare up at it, then took out a nectarine and his sun-rock, only to place them on the ground in front of it before stepping back. "Many appreciations, youngling. We take great pleasure from the intentions of your gift, but those are for you." it said as a small tendril formed of leafy debris to give a firm embrace to the child and another tendril to lift the offering back into his hands.

Rel watched the interaction with a smile before looking back to the Loci with a more somber look to his features. "It does indeed concern them, moreso their future. I ask of you to call on the others of your kind, to bid them here to convene. What I have seen concerns them just as much as the Hopeful." he said, the images from his dream still fresh in his mind. It felt as if the ground rippled slightly as the Loci opened its arms. Soon, kami of all compositions materialized around the Loci, and he heard the collective surprise of the Hiplings. While they often unknowingly played and interacted with the Kami, they did not know of their existence. "Little ones, these are the Kami, spirits of nature. Water, earth, air, fire, and all things in between. The big one on the tree is a Loci, a spirit formed of your community and love of each other. They are all around you, watching you and playing with you as you try to catch gliding petals and bird feathers. They are joined with the world you take from, that you form to better fit your needs. What you do, remember this, you do to them. Treat them with the kindness, the respect, the love, that you treat yourselves with, as they are as special to this land as you are. They may choose to share with you, they may choose to help you, they may even choose to listen to the stories you tell them when you are just imaginging great things. Hold to your hearts, that this is their choice, to reveal themselves to you as they wish to and to respect that choice. As you continue to grow, as your numbers increase, to think of how your actions effect them." Rel spoke kindly, his words resonating with a bit of the Dreaming to give them more importance, and perhaps a little mental nudge to get across his meaning. After a few moments, the Hiplings' ears wiggled in understanding and they gave little chuffs of agreement.

With that settled he turned back to the Loci and gathered Kami, nodding. "I will not make you and yours watch over the Hopeful, your decisions are your own, and we will have to abide by that decision. We will continue to grow into your territories, doing our best to be mindful to build with you, not over you." Rel paused then, holding up a hand to request a moment. "Before you make any decisions, let me share with you what I saw of the world outside of this island; I do not wish to trouble you, that is not my intent, though they are not entirely pleasant. What I hope these visions will show you is the reason why I am giving you the choice and advising the Hiplings, the Hopeful, to treat you all with the same love they give to each other in order to build a future together. I will share once you are ready." The Loci conveyed Rel's words to the other Kami and once they all understood, the Loci lowered its hand for Rel to rest upon an open palm. "What you are about to see may cause you to clench your fist, Loci of the Hopeful. I ask that you remember I am in your hand." he said as he patted the spirit's rather large thumb. "We will do our best, Rel." it rumbled low, hesitation creeping into a single chuckle. Closing his eyes, he let his awareness meld with the Loci and the Kami, finding it somewhat difficult to be spread that thinly. Once he felt firmly connected and sure of his ability to share information this way, he opened his mind, to allow them to see everything he saw in his dreaming. Slowly at first, giving them time to explore his connection and comprehend the meaning of what he saw, easing them in with the pleasant discoveries first, then the more upsetting, then the visions that made his heart weep. The hand curled tightly around him, pressing him into an uncomfortable position, but he forced himself to not end the connection as he felt the amused curiosity turn to sadness and profound terror. "This is why I am giving you your own agency to decide. I will not force you, as others have done to your kind, bending to the will of other Dreamers as if you were nothing more than material to be shaped. To me, to the Hopeful, you are just as important as those who shape Creation. You are precious to me, your potential just as valid as any spirit housed in flesh." Rel thought to them, as he withdrew from the aching vision to finally show them his dreams for the future he hopes the First World would eventually come to be. "If you choose to withdraw from this island, from the Hopeful, we will understand and abide by it. We will continue in our future, with our respect to you and yours as best as we are able without your wisdom, but would it not be a wondrous world we could create together?" He gradually closed the door to his mind, letting them feel his presence leave their consciousness, so they would know he did not intend to influence them one way or another. Feeling the hand unclench slightly, he opened his eyes and placed his hand on the palm of the Loci, waiting to see if he was going to be juiced like a fruit. The creature's fingers trembled, as if weighing the options before it, before opening slowly to deposit Rel back on the ground. "We have an understanding, Not-so-Unburdened Dreamer. The others will aid as they see fit. We, as the collective will of the Hiplings, will watch over the little ones to guide them towards cooperation with the Kami on this island. Be warned, though. What you have shared with us, you have also shared with them through our bond." the Loci said with a tempered voice.

Rel turned to look at the Hiplings and paused with his head tilted to the side a bit; while some began playing with the Kami in full awareness of their presence, others were doing their best to recreate what they saw from his dreamsharing. Little legs trying to jump the distances of the frog-folk. Hiplings with branches that had many vines hanging from them, wiggling them about, as if trying to portray the worm-like creatures. Some pausing to look at the rocks and plants, rubbing their chins, then drawings shapes in the ground as if they making schematics. He could feel that their imitations were them learning about the other dreamers' creations; genuine interest in what they saw, not any attempt to make light of it. These were things they could easily comprehend, their reasoning determining that these actions did not cause pain. There were others though, the eldest among them, that looked somber if not afraid. These were the ones that understood the bigness of the creatures Out There, the harm that could come to the island and to those who ventured past its boundaries. Rel walked among these, gathering them away from the other Hiplings while they played, and spoke to them in hushed tones of Dreamwalking. "If my thinking is correct, this is easier the more you are attuned to your sense of self. As you've had more time to accept yourself in this world, your limitations, talents, the very Is-ness of who and what you are, this should be a quick study." He held their hands, guiding them with mental images, until most of them vanished and reappeared after a few minutes. "Of all my little Hiplings, you eldest understand the dangers of the Bigguns, the caution learned through experience of running from the more territorial creatures here. You must practice this ability until you can do it without thinking, until your minds can recognize danger before your eyes do. When you feel that you can do this with more ease, spread the knowledge amongst the other Hiplings, guiding them all until they are as skilled as you. With enough practice, you can bring food and shelter with you as you may have to hide for a hours if not days, if there's no food there. I cannot see into your dreamscapes, but hopefully they will be pleasant and have all that you need." Rel smiled as they did it again when he finished the sentence and reappearing moments later with handfuls of berries. "Good! Good! Soon you'll all be little Dreamers, making your own worlds for you to enjoy! One other thing, now that I think about it. Once you have taught the others, try teaching the Kami. I'm not sure if it will work for them, but it would certainly be interesting if it does!"

He stretched his arms and back, pleased with what he was able to accomplish today, but there was more to be done. There always was, but it could wait for a little while longer. He ate with the Hiplings, who left empty leaf piles at their large flat rocks that communal meals were served at. When he asked about it, he was told it was for any of the Kami who wished to join them for food or stories. Rel was thankful they they adapted and learned quickly; once the rest of the world opened up to them, those skills will serve them well. He joined in on their games of hide-and-seek, amused that the elders were playing as well, using their Dreamwalking to their advantage. "Smart," he thought to himself. "Gives them more experience with it and begins the teaching to the others from the ease of play, rather than having to learn through droll rote." The Sun was getting high in the sky now; he could see it at slightly to east-of-center above him through the canopy. It was close to the time for the mid-day Pile that usually resulted in a group nap and he was hoping to relax for a few hours, but something was nagging at the back of his mind. There were a few hours before the Hiplings would gather at the nexus. Ducking out of sight behind a tree, he willed his steps to carry him to the top of the Rest, barely noticing the chill of the air here compared to the warmth under the verdant blanket. Looking up in the direction of the Sun, he shrugged, not knowing if this was just his imagination at work or if there was indeed a sentience residing there. Sitting himself down in a cross-legged position, he closed his eyes, and reached out his awareness into the Void.

As his mind's eye took in the surroundings where he noticed for the first time, now that he was closer to it, that the Sun had a ring of orichalcum wrapping around it. Worlds of life arose from it, to be be quickly shunted to the First World in the blink of an eye; maybe it could only last so long when that close? His dreamself shrugged, still in the sitting position he was last in, before focusing in on why he was here. "Not sure how to begin this and maybe I'm just flapping my lips at the solar equivalent of a shower thought, so I'll just start talking until I'm done. Good with me if it is with you?" He grinned at the thought of someone at the center of the star, watching out their window, at a disheveled madman holding court with the birds. Or mantas, in this case. "Right, here goes. I want to start off by saying thank you. Thank you for the warmth and light you provide to us on the world. Thank you for the life that you help sustain and..." Rel gave a quick glance at the life being thrusted at the planet below, "...the life you are potentially creating. For all I know, you created ME; a wandering thought that wasn't all that coherent and just trailed off. Still not all that coherent, but you make do with what you've got, right? That's kind of the point to all this, maybe? Doing your best with nothing but your dreams and a bit to eat? Bah, I'm rambling." He paused for a moment to collect his thoughts as much as he could in this state. "I guess what I'm trying to get at is this; I don't think I'm the only Dreamer here, man. I saw some stuff down there I wouldn't even begin to think of dreaming. Stuff that would have you coronal mass ejecting brown dwarfs down your pant leg! Well, if you wore pants. Maybe you just have a pair I can't see and that ring is just a belt or something. Anyway, even with that all going on, I just wanted you to know that it's appreciated. A slim chance for a brighter existence is magnitudes better than no chance at all; all the choices and happenings begetting even more events diverging from there, the sheer thrill of uncertainty, the pleasure of just being, man. So yeah, thank you for all that!"

Rel watched a manta swoop down to catch a particle drift and glide further away. "Just fekkin look at that thing go! Damn, they're pretty! There was something else, always something else. Give me a minute, I'll chase the thought down any second now... Ah, that's it! I was kind of hoping to make something of an offering on behalf of myself, the Hiplings, the Kami, and all the other life in the Pocket. A cosmic mango, if you will. You probably keep on keeping on, not needing much of anything to refuel your solar engines, but that's got to get a little bland cycle after cycle. Dreaming up new life all the time, you'll be hitting the dregs after a while, and then things get stale and boring! Sure, there might be other Dreamers dreaming all sorts of new things, but even that gets old eventually as we run out of dreams. So..." He reached deep into a robe pocket until he felt what he was looking for. Pulling out a silvery mango that shone brightly in the Sun's radiance, yet still maintained its silver coloration. "...here you go! To be perfectly honest, I wasn't actually expecting this to be a mango as my dreams usually aren't this literal. Anyway, that is the collected amalgamation of little bits of experiences, faith, creativity, hopes, and dreams from all of the life in the Pocket. It is truly amazing what just that one little section of Creation can think up and do! I've seen creatures down there offering prayers to you, so maybe you've already had something like this, but I wonder if it tastes? like they're just asking for you to keep on shining. This does not taste like 'Thank you, but...', man. It's pure appreciation without expectation!" Not really knowing if he should just pitch it into the blaze or set it on the Forge, he simply let it go in the vicinity, figuring it would either make its way to where it needed to go or the Sun would have a very tiny (in comparison) moon to go along with THE Moon. So, that cosmic mango there got me to thinking. If that's what Life can offer us Dreamers from the material we create, what would it be like if they had just a sliver of our Dreaming? True, they already have the magics churning through the Lines, but that's still like asking them to make sense of fifth dimensional drawings of how to build a house. Some might be able to do it after years of study and practice, some just inherently grasp a portion of it, yet all that particular flavor does is unlock preconceived answers to convoluted questions. Those magic rivers down there have a similar vibe to this ring, so maybe they're your doing? I don't know, I think I may have lost the plot somewhere... I guess what I'm trying to get at is this. If they could be little Dreamers, making things on a smaller scale than we can, there wouldn't be any preconceived answers. Just new worlds for us to experience through them, new ideas for us to explore, new flavors for us to savor. That's what we could receive, if we could just let them in a little." Rel scratched at his beard, butting up against the last of what he wanted to say. He wasn't sure if there would be any response back or how long it would take if there was, so he just turned to putter on down back to his headspace when he stopped. "I'll just go ahead and get started on putting that into motion, man. It'll be weak at first; I don't think I have enough oomph by myself to get things spinning at equal level, but if you toss in as much Dreaming to this idea as you put calculations into the Lines, that should really make those wires hum! Just think about it, man..." He tilted his head, eyes squinting quizzically. "Huh, I'm this close to a stellar blast furnace and my butt's getting cold. You'd think that I'd be pretty toasty right n-" That fleeting thought trailed off as he opened his eyes again, sitting on the peak of the Rest, looking around. "Oh, yeah, that would explain the chilled cheeks..."

Making it back in time to join the Hiplings in the mid-day Pile, Rel let himself relax amongst the little ones for as long as it lasted; he was feeling worn, having done more this day than he has in a long while and there was still more to do, but he needed a moment to just be to center himself. He was uncharacteristically pushing himself, whether out of apprehension or excitement he didn't know. Things were moving too quickly for his liking, but he didn't want the denizens of the Pocket to be swept away through his predilection for inaction. The rhythm of all the heartbeats around him, the slowly syncronizing breathing as the little ones began to doze off, soothed his overactive mind and slowed his thoughts. "One thing at a time, Rel." he mused silently. As he found his center, he matched the tempo of the Hipling pile, feeling his awareness hit that sweet spot of mindful thoughtlessness. After a few hours, the Hiplings began to stir, indicating that his time for meditation was over. As the Pile gradually disbanded, he stretched his entire body, then cast his mind out to their Loci. "Hip-Loci, I am going to be building something very large here in the central clearing and I don't want anyone getting hurt; if you would please guide the little ones towards the Bungalow where they will find quite a large gift of mangoes, it would be most appreciated. You will know when I am done to let them come back." Sensing acknowledgement and agreement, Rel waited until he could feel the last of the Hiplings head away from the area he needed to work upon. He unrolled his sketchings, then placed them on the ground, so he could better control what happened next; his first conscious Making. Touching his hands to the parchment, he splayed out his fingers, exerting his will through the drawing and down into the depths. There was a low rumbling shake of the earth in front of him which subsided when a branch of orichalcum sprouted from the ground with a glass leaf. "Oh, come on! Just because I take my time with things doesn't me-" he was cutoff mid-frustration when the ground exploded outward with the rest of living orichalcum tree erupted towards the heavens, branches unfurling as it went, roots driving down and out as the trunk went further up. The branches of the surrounding trees curved and interlaced with each other, forming a promenade around the trunk and under his likeness carved into the massive orichal-tree, leaving the current Hipling shelters undamaged as they did. In his mind's eye view from above, he saw the roots of it extending towards the edges of the island, the ground raising in a gentle swell along their path, the banyan trees forming a tightly knit living pallisade as they sprung forth from the earth. As the orichal-tree's roots met the banyans, the spiraling split ring took shape within the roots of the banyan and spreading around the boundary of the island, going through the mountains, and coming to two "capped" ends to the East and West. Rel grunted as he felt the sudden surge of the Ley Line rushing into the left conduit, routed along the spiraling root system. The roots of the banyans and orichal-tree siphoned some of the power as it passed, seeming to spread themselves a little wider and stretch a little taller, until it came out the other end still spiraling. Closing his eyes, he pressed his hand against his chest while envisioning his fingers going past his flesh, and withdrew from himself a large silvery orb of his divine essence. Rel shivered, feeling slightly lessened after doing this, but to him the reciprocation of giving back a belief in the mortals as they believed in the Dreamers was the only way forward. "Dream a little dream for me..." Rel whispered. Before any second thoughts or doubts could creep in, he slammed the orb into the right conduit, feeling it elongate into a beam as it traveled along the twisting curves of the roots. As it passed the trees, they siphoned off some of the divine essence, giving off a muted scintillating glow like moonlight on the surface of a river. For a brief moment, it felt like everything stopped. Rel could feel something was off, something was overlooked in the plan. "There's nothing guiding it on the other end, ya dinkus! Once it comes torrenting out it will flow wherever it damn well pleases!" his subconcious self gruffly warned. "I'm taking over; you won't see the bigger picture until you're older..." With that, he was suddenly in the Void looking down at the First World, seeing the channels of the Ley Lines churning along slowly. To the East of the Pocket, it was all in straight lines. To the West, the Ley Lines were beginning to twist in a widening coil as it flowed out of the Pocket. Moving quickly, he willed the boundaries of the previous Ley Lines into a helical pattern, while simultaneously creating another spiraled channel that was separate but still traveled the same path across and through the First World; a double helix of arcane and divine. Right as his divine essence was about to spill forth, he made one last adjustment to fully connect the Lines to the ends on both sides of the Pocket, and slammed back into his earthly self with enough velocity to knock him into the Orichal-tree. His dreamself left him with one more bit of advice before handing control back, "Remember the six P's next time; proper planning prevents piss-poor performance!"

Rubbing the back of his head, Rel stood up in a series of pauses, beaten and worn. One last thing, one last gift given, then he could hopefully rest without dreaming for once. The Sun was nearing the horizon now and the Hiplings would soon be bedding down for the night; he wasn't sure if the Loci had lessened awareness when the little ones were sleeping, but he didn't want to chance it. "Loci, I seek audience for one last time this day. I have an offering, a gift, I wish to bestow should you accept it." he called out to his surroundings. Some of the little ones looked down from above, already leaving little snacks in front of his likeness on the tree, and he smiled up them. Jungle detritus swirled about him and amassed in its previous at the base of the orichal-tree, the fallen tree having been pushed back by the sudden growth. "This new... Tree... is odd, Rel. We can feel it live, pulling the land into itself, but how is it stone-metal while also wood? There is also a thrumming of power from it, similar to yours and not, rippling through it. We sense it is a good thing, the Hopeful are making shelter within its trunk and branches, so we will tend to it as we would the little ones." Rel grinned as the Hipling tendency for both curiosity and acceptance was also present in the Loci, which was logical, given what it was. "This tree is part of the offering I am gifting you, friend. There are two more aspects as well, to complete the offering, should you accept it. I am growing in my understanding of the Dreaming, slowly but surely, and there will come a time I cannot be amongst the Hiplings as I am now so I'm planning towards the future. The first aspect is this orichal-tree; it shall be a body for you to inhabit to interact with the little ones and everything it touches. The second aspect is sharing a portion of my power with you; as I find some of my personality in the Hopeful, you are just as much an embodiment of myself as you are them. It is only fitting that you are given the status of my avatar on this realm, while still remaining the Loci of our people. You will be able to perceive the entirety of the island, shape and control the essense of it as you see fit as its guardian, draw from the knowledge of any native sentient that resides within. Though I provided you a physical body and some of my ability, it comes with a limitation; you are tied to the confines of the island, unable to see other shores. The little ones who eventually explore this world will have to return here for you to experience through them; I am sorry for that restriction, but I need you here to watch over those that do not choose an adventurous life. Given that you were already tied to the community here, this hopefully won't feel like too much of a constraint, but it may come to pass that you greet other avatars and feel it more keenly." Rel said softly as he frowned, feeling a sadness that they would be physically bound here, when a pondering look crossed his features. "Maybe we can devise a way, a workaround of sorts, but I may need to grow into myself more before that happens. Perhaps..." he trailed off, chasing the thought only to be unable to catch it. "That would not be much of an issue, we wouldn't want to leave the Hopeful unprotected, excepting those who choose to explore. We will accept this request and gift, Rel the Unburdened, regardless of the binds." it rumbled affably, before pausing thoughtfully. "You mentioned there was a third part to this gift. Would we have to accept that as well, to be your avatar?" Rel chuckled at the question. "No, not at all. The third aspect of the gift is more for the Hiplings, yourself, and I. It is perhaps the most important part, though! Genius Loci of the Hipling, Loci of the Hopeful, or Avatar of Rel the Unburdened, those titles and names are cumbersome, are they not? They focus on only that particular perception of the self. The last portion of my gift to you is a name, that when said aloud or said in thought, brings to mind all aspects that encompass your unique entirety. Truthfully, this is a gift you are giving to yourself, I'm just gifting the idea!"

The spirit squatted down on its haunches, contemplating what was said, trying to grasp the foreign concept. Kami, even the Loci, were spirits of the land. They had no need for a name. While the Loci were more individualistic than their smaller kin, they could be spoken to or summoned forth by thinking of a Loci; what Rel was offering was an elevation of the self, a gift of acknowledged personhood. It looked at Rel, then its surroundings, scratching its mossy beard as the Unburdened did when thinking. A word entered its thoughts, rolling around in its mouth like it was tasting the meaning; it felt right, encasing all aspects the Loci considered part of its being. For the first time in the existence of the Kami, one has given itself a name of its own choosing. "We are... No. I, am Relloc." With the word spoken aloud, it did indeed feel like the name resonated with its being. "So there it is, your actualized self. A pleasure to meet you, Relloc!" Rel said with a smile. "Now, for the bonding." He stepped towards the orichal-tree, placing his hands on the trunk, and visualized becoming one with it. The flows of the two magics mixing and surging within, endless impossibilities becoming possible, the patter of Hipling feet. He stepped away from the trunk while leaving a piece of his divinity within the tree and gestured towards it. "Your new existence awaits, Relloc." With no further words needed, Relloc's spirit stepped into the tree, the detritus it had gathered to form a loose corporeality dropped to the ground as one would shed clothing. The likeness that was Rel's face became animated, moving deliberately slow as Relloc was still getting used to the feeling of a truly solid body. Relloc soon discovered they were able to move their face all along the tree, down and across the roots, up and along the leafy canopy. There was a booming laughter of joy heard throughout the island, as Relloc exalted in the feeling of the Sun setting on their glassy leaves, of the magical energies mixing with their spirit. They could feel, hear, taste, smell, and see throughout the island, all at once or singular focus, at their choosing. Relloc could engage with the other Kami, the lesser animals, or the Hiplings whether it be conversation, play, or just peaceful watching. "Thank you, Rel! This... I feel... I do not know the right word." they now spoke with the softness of a breeze through leaves. "It's alright, Relloc. You will find that sometimes, there isn't a word for everything you are feeling. Happens to even myself on occasion! Just relax and focus on the sensation, absorb it into your being so even if the word never comes to your mind, you'll always have the feeling." Rel said, patting the base of Relloc's trunk. "Right now, after all the effort of today, I need to get back to the Bungalow to rest for a few days. You just keep on exploring your new reality and find your Is-ness, friend. As there's a little bit of me in there now, you should know what I mean." Relloc's face moved up and down once, then closed their eyes as their focus traveled all about the island, bringing new awareness into themselves.

Rel sighed contentedly once he passed through the gate to the Bungalow. He pushed himself harder today than he had in a long, long time, and while it felt good to get his hands busy with creating, he was exhausted. Heading into his home, we went straight to the privy closet to give himself a thorough washing with Sun-warmed water, trying to unwind the knots in his limbs. When finished, he puttered over to the kitchen, gathering some toasted bread, berry preserves, and a nectarine onto a wooden tray to bring over to a low table by his chaise lounge. Plopping down, he lazily munched on things while processing the day. "Today was a good day. Not sure what the future will hold, but thinking about that can wait; it will come no matter what, but that's a problem for tomorrow's Rel." he said to himself as he took a drink from his glass for the first time today. Tonight, it tasted better than it ever had; full of reverie and wonder. Bringing his feet up, setting the drink down, and grabbing another slice of jammed toast, he just let all of tension and meandering thoughts go. Rel drifted off into a quiet slumber to the songs of night birds, half eaten toast dropping onto his robe, and a satisfied smile on his face.

Spoiler: AP Spending

Show

AP Remaining at Rollover: 6
Rollover: 4
AP Total: 10

Create Mundane Concept (1AP) - Kami Reverence: Respect, veneration, and/or devotion of the Kami. [Community (Family) 3/10]

Create Mythical Sub-Concept (2AP) - Reflexive Dreamwalking (Inner Worlds): Currently locked to the Hiplings; by practicing often and extensively, the Hiplings have learned how to slip into their Inner Worlds within a half-breath when they feel threatened or sense something that would be dangerous for them. [Dream (Inspiration) 4/10]

Create Mythical Concept (2AP; shared with The Shattered Star) - Divine Magic: Divine Magic is a fraction of of godly essence/power gifted to those who offer reverence to deities, avatars, concepts of nature, and/or true devotion to a philosophical ideology(Law/Chaos/Good/Evil), enabling the gifted to perform actions similar to Gods but on a much smaller scale, while bearing the "signature" of their chosen belief structure(left up to the player/writer what their god's "signature" might look like). Anyone can tap into Divine Magic if their faith is strong enough for their god to notice, but the truly devoted can be granted a Domain themed ability suited to their chosen devotion, while Heroes can be granted two. [Dream (Inspiration) 6/10]

Alter Land (1AP) - Sanctus Aquaeductus: A sister network along the paths of the Ley Lines, these are channels for the flow of Divine Magic; entirely separate so those who do not wish to use the arcane magic can tap into divine power if they so choose. [Creation (Bounty) 3/10]

Alter Land (1AP) - Twisted Pair: The Ley Lines and the Sanctus Aquaeductus spiral along each other, contained within their own boundaries. [Creation (Bounty) 4/10]

Create Avatar (3AP) - Relloc, the Pocket Protector: The Genius Loci of the Hipling has accepted the status of an Avatar of Rel; granted a body of living orichalacum in the form of a tree (a mixture of the properties of the metal and wood with both Arcane and Divine Magic flowing through it) with root systems encompassing the entire island, with a canopy of hardened glass leaves containing gold filament and chlorophyll(trying for natural solar panels). While they cannot leave the island (yet!), Relloc's awareness extends to the boundaries of the island on all axes. Relloc is able to shape/interact with the island as they choose, for improvement or defensive purposes related themself or the Hiplings(minor actions that would not require AP, like tripping vines or making little fruit orchards). As long as a sentient creature is native to the Pocket AND within the boundaries of the island, Relloc can access their knowledge and experiences, to better care for the Hiplings. Relloc is loyal to Rel, but is of their own mind. [Craft (Creation) 10/10]

AP Spent: 10
AP Remaining: 0

Progress:
[Creation (Bounty) 4/10]
[Craft (Creation) 10/10 DOMAIN GET!]
[Dream (Inspiration) 6/10]
[Healing (Repairs) 1/10]
[Community (Family) 3/10]

**Mechalich** · 2023-11-03, 09:32 PM (ISO 8601)

Looking Inward
As understanding of the microscopic worlds beyond sight spread through the sisterhood, their knowledge of the surrounding world increased by leaps and bounds. Scientific experiments unlocked new theories, new possibilities. These were imperfect, of course, the hands of the divine and the mystic, even the broadly benevolent influence of the Kami, could shift and bend natural processes, change them from their base, but this too could be compensated for in all but the most extreme cases. And when they could not, a new method took their place.

The inner worlds of each sister were free of such extraneous influences. Once seeded with life, they would grow and adjust untouched by outsiders, natural microcosms tweaked only by the oversight of each soul. Observation and comparison of these processes, of the expansion that took place as a result, redoubled all insights. The very secrets of the divine, of the processes manipulated to create life and shift the land, drew near. They could, would, become the Kami of their own realms, and began to feel the first glimmers of others, nearby, twitching against the web that surrounded them all.

Slowly, in fits and starts but always shared and sustained, the Onna increased the size and complexity of their worlds as their knowledge grew and they sourced more and more of their attention to this problem. Patterns mirrored each other along critical pathways, something that only spurred further educational effort.

Spoiler: AP Actions

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Create Mystic Sub-Concept (2AP): Spirits Within – Regular utilization and observation of the Inner World allows that world to grow and develop, increasing both in size and the complexity of organisms and concepts it can host. These changes must be made slowly, as too much change too quickly can cause disaster and, in extreme cases, sunder the inner world. [Protection (Cleansing) 9/10]*

Create Mystic Sub-Concept (2AP): As Without, So Within – increased understanding of the processes controlling the First World (or, in theory, any other plane) produces increased understanding of the manipulation and creation of processes in inner worlds. Growing knowledge of one increases knowledge of the other. [Life (Evolution) 2/10]*

Create Advanced Sub-Concept (1AP): Geology – Onna science has broadened from the processes of life to include physical processes as well, as the contribution of this baseline to their inner worlds spurred recognition. [Protection (Cleansing) 10/10]

*- these mystic concepts apply to everyone with an Inner World, being functionally innate.

Domain Acquired: Protection (Cleansing)
Domains Possessed: Animal (Spiders), Animal (Transformation), Community (Sisterhood), Plant (Vines), Protection (Cleansing), Protection (Shelter), Water (Rivers). With 7 Domains Ecie ascends to Intermediate God.

Starting AP: 0 Rollover Gain: 5 Spent: 5 Remaining: 0

**Zelphas** · 2023-11-04, 12:09 AM (ISO 8601)

The Form of Clouds

For anyone watching the inside of the Triangular Chain, it would quickly become apparent that something much more than just simple weather patterns was going on. Fanciful shapes, structures like alien buildings or even forms that looked like fish, or like mountains, emerge and fade, more detailed than clouds usually form and lasting longer. These shapes were usually preceded by a riot of different colors converging on the spot; they would hold their shape for a time, then warp and shift, merging back into the greater cloud cover before emerging again in a new form.

The winds from these changes slowly began to leak out over the Chain and beyond; they are broken up by the eternal storm on the Chain, but their effect spreads farther outwards. After all, when you play with the weather, where does the effect end?

Feather Four

The fourth feather to fall from the Cloak encountered a storm as it drifted downwards; waterlogged, it fell into the ocean with a heavy splash, sinking deep.

On the shores of the Triangular Chain, a new nuisance and meal was found at the same time; large, oddly-feathered creatures, very round, which would occasionally rocket up on shore to steal drying fish or cause other nuisances before sinking beneath the waves once again. their flesh was blubbery, but otherwise not unpleasant, though it was work to find and kill them.

Spoiler: AP Actions

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0 AP + 5 AP = 5 AP

Create Mythical Concept (4 AP) - Weatherdancing: By following set steps and actions, a mortal can influence the weather in specific ways--mostly by altering the movement of the wind, but other steps can call moisture from the air or drop the temperature. The more mortals that follow the steps in tandem, the greater the effect. At the moment, all of the "dances" are designed for Nimbus bodies, but they could be adapted to other mortal forms through study and effort. [Weather (Clouds) 9/10]

Bless/Curse (1 AP) - Unstable Air: In their eagerness to begin using the new Weatherdancing, the Nimbi have somewhat unbalanced the weather. Places with long-standing weather effects (such as the eternal storm on the Chain) are generally still stable, but other places around the world can see sudden weather shifts as the air reacts to the somewhat chaotic changes placed down by the Nimbi. This effect is stronger the closer one gets to the Triangular Chain, meaning that the oceans near the Chain itself are rife with barometric anomalies. [Weather (Clouds) 10/10; Domain Get!]

Create Monstrous Life (0 AP, from CoMF) - Penguin Seals: Large (10-12 feet long), watermelon-shaped animals with the face and beak of a Potoo bird and small feathers in grey and black, Penguin Seals spend most of their lives on the surface of the deep ocean, diving for fish and stayign underwater for nearly an hour with their incredible lung strength. They possess an incredibly mischievous energy when they encounter mortal settlements, and are able to move on land using their back legs and wings as front legs for short periods of time; during this time, they gneerally make messes, eat anything edible, and chase domestic animals smaller than them, though there are very few stories of outright hostile or violent Penguin Seals.

5 AP - 5 AP = 0 AP Remaining

**MutantDragon** · 2023-11-04, 02:11 AM (ISO 8601)

On Suffering and Corruption

Harkit was annoyed. Earlier that day, he slaughtered nearly three dozen rebels. Of them, a dozen were once loyal warriors of the sun. He tasted on their flesh the poisonous sting of compassion, and, though too weak to affect him, its sickly sweet flavor annoyed him. The very existence of such a vile blasphemy annoyed him. And in the recesses of his mind, his crown vented its madness. One whispered scream caught his attention however. It spoke of pain. Of fear. Of torment. Of power. Harkit listened, and Harkit smiled. So he summoned forth a prisoner who was set for consumption and took the man into the city's central temple. Within the temple, Harkit prepared a ritual, with the prisoner bound in the middle of the bloody pentagrams. And when at last the preparations were complete, Harkit's smile widened to a grin as he unleashed the torments the crown supplied to his mind. The taint of kindness slowed its march across the city, and Harkit was pleased.

Spoiler: OOC

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Rollover x2! 2AP + 10AP = 12AP

Create Mundane Concept (Torture) MUA: Inspired by The Crown of the Twisted Kami, Harkit has learned the fine art of inflicting the maximum possible pain to a subject, a skill he has shared with others in the Empire.

Curse (Purge Through Pain - Counters Consuming an Empathic Soul) 3AP: A ritual exists that can drain part of a victim's soul and transmit an echo of said victim's pain to all other souls within a certain radius. While a normal living mortal would be unaware of this occurrence, this twists affected souls and closes them off to Salet's blessing of Consuming an Empathic Soul, though it is unable to undo the effects of its influence that are already present. The effectiveness and reach of this ritual varies depending on the number of victims and pain inflicted; a large city requires scores of victims to be tortured each day. [Trickery (Corruption) 3/10]

12AP - 3AP = 9AP
1MUA - 1MUA = 0MUA

**DasIrrlicht** · 2023-11-04, 09:13 AM (ISO 8601)

Naury, watching flowers bloom that should not exist.
One of the more common 'most important experiences' souls tend to show is the care of a flower garden. The Echo-Servants do not know why that is the case, but it had started to rub off on them, as some of them tried to carry together Echos of Flowers to form some of their own... However, this attempts get quickly ended by the painful reminder of what the plane of echos actually is. So the echos fade, and reappear where the flowers where in the first world.

That is usually the case, at least. However, Naury has during one of their many wanderings of the plane stumbled across a anomaly. A group of the Servants has apparently managed to raise a flower. Atop a stone roof even. A quick look revealed the plant to look pretty much as average as one could think of a flower. Some leaves, a small cluster of blossoms at the top, a bit of a orange tone, but that probably was more so coincidence then a rule. Most flowers seem to come in many colours afterall.

The Echo-Servants proudly told Naury that they managed it thanks to one of the books that the high-titled Echo-Walkers got from the library. However, they where also not quite sure how it worked... It was honestly of little matter to them why the flower was able to bloom, it only was important that it did. It, and soon its kind, was little bit of impact on the world they live in. Yet they could not even agree what it was called. It was the only kind of flower around that grew and lived seperate of the first worlds infulence, so the differing names where of basically no problem. It was the Flower. Whatever Title the Flower had besides that was of as little matter as what the titles of the Echo-Walkers actually meant.

Of course, it turned out the flowers were not 'just' pretty. When trying to show one around, they quickly learned that it shared some experiences with whoever picks it, just to then fade away again. Moving flowers once they came to be was hard, and leaving them unattended for some time just as much left them to wilt away and fade once they died. but with a bit of case, one could get more to sprout, or sprout them elsewhere on the plane of echos. Their own little change to the world around them.

Spoiler: Naury AP Spending

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2 AP LEFT

0 AP - Blessing/Curse [MUA Charge]

False Echo Flower/True Soul Flower/Servants Flower/Memory Flower/Just The Flower
Echo-Servants and Writings collected from Akashic are normally the only things in the Plane of Echos not a reflection of the first world in some way or another. Every plant there is in fact just a plant growing in that place in the first world, and as such refuses itself to be interacted with in any way that has permanence.
This specific kind of Flower however is a anomaly. Looking like an amalgam of different common flowers, it seems to be able to grow anywhere and on anything in the Plane of Echos as long as a Echo-Servant takes care of it. Picking one leaves you with a small feeling of Deja-Vu, as you relive a short memory of someone who died and their soul had already fully faded away. What the memory is and from whom it came seems random, trough it rarely seems to be of any importance. It is usually a somewhat pleasant memory, like the taste of a well made meal, the smell of the ocean air, or a hug from a parent after being scared of a storm as a child. Once Picked whatever sustained the flower fails to continue doing so, as it fades away like a displaced echo or a forgotten soul.

________
2 AP Left

Progress:
N/A

**AlexanderML** · 2023-11-04, 10:59 AM (ISO 8601)

Eresaly, a Shadow Beyond Sight

A land beyond that which it had seen before, the skeleton once bat hung upon Her shoulder as She traveled across the land. So close as to see the lands beyond yet so far away as to be unable to touch them; the only ones to see her being the souls of those already dead, who gasped at her fleeting presence… then forgot why.

Dead for quite some time now the bat could not understand why She was here, it barely registered that she was moving and observing others. Sometimes souls or the servants of this place that it could register, yet at other times She would reach out a shadow to try and touch something it could no see; only to have the world give a small hum of rejection.

Bitterly did She walk for some time after those moments, but She continued to try again and again. She would cry, beat at the unseeable, then walk some more. Eventually though this had to end, and the shadow that She was retreated back to the the colorful glade that had the humans deemed friendly to the skeleton bat.

Of Bloom in Decay

Glikmora's Wail still wandered into its previous home occasionally, watching the strange changes taking place. It was just a shortcut to lonelier places. A particular favorite was a lonely mountain somewhere in the Chain. Glikmora's Wail remembered the deals made here. Rare ones, but fascinating what the mortals would give up. Sometimes it cast its senses toward where one day Glikmora and the Fleet would appear, but that usually made it remember its responsibilities to the Lolats back on Adanat and caused it to retreat back to it.

Chymes for his part was exploring the mountain after hearing an interesting mix of rumors from the nearby villagers. Desperate fools, heart broken lovers who lost those they loved, and other such sad folk finding their way up the mountain's top where they either found what they sought or were simply... later found at the bottom of a cliff.

In particular the bottom of the cliff side was what attracted the skeleton there, for he heard the place held a number of ice flowers. If even one or two were real then he wanted to pick them. The false ones held some value, but Chymes wouldn't feel right taking those too.

He felt cold still, even as a skeleton, the bitter winds reaching into the flower vines that was his marrow. Luckily a crimson petal and a thick travelers coat was enough for him to wander up the mountain. It was a clear sunny day where the cold snow appeared as jewels as the wind's light howl echoed certain doom for those who make a fatal slip.

Taking two days Chymes found the spot that he was looking for near the peak of the mountain. The few scattered bones from what could not be brought back down were grim reminders of this. Chymes said a prayer before looking around to see if there were any ice flowers there. His keen eyes familiar with the true ice flowers did find many false ones among the sad site, but no true ones. With a sigh the skeleton decided to return back down the mountain.

Then he looked up.

He saw under the light a glittering flower at the very top of the peak swaying in the evening light; one that he had the strong suspicion was a real ice flower. It wouldn't take him more than half an hour to try, so he decided to he began to finish the last parts of this trail. His bones were starting to get real cold as he was rationing his crimson petals at this point.

"Now what do we have here?" he said as he approached the flower at the top, taking a moment to look at the horizon before leaning over to examine the flower.

Glikmora's Wail watched the figure approach, curious. It had seen the results of necromancy before, often accompanying a desperate fool to the peaks, carrying their loads. Scented of rot and slowly breaking down the humans often abandoned them. But this one had no master, had no guide and seemed to have no rot either. And the skeletons entire being emanated want.

Glikmora's Wail followed, much as it had before in Desire Heart. Something with this desire always struck bargains. Even if it was no longer what it had been, the memories and power lived on. It was just more now.

A flower. This creature wanted for a flower? What use is a flower?

"Boned One. What is it you desire?"

Chymes froze as he looked around still in his leaning forward position. "U-uh heLLOO-" Chymes catches himself as he notices who he was talking to. The shifting shape resembled a temptation... but he had an idea that it was something more. Perhaps a tuatha... no, this place was known for a very long time; he's not in a delusion landscape.

The skeleton then realized he was still frozen in a leaning forward position. Giving a fake cough he straightens himself up. "Greetings, um, fellow traveler? I'm just here looking for rare material for my various projects..." he looks down at the flower his tone getting a little softer and distant "Though finding a gift a woman like *her* would want is also on my mind."

Then with a clap Chymes forces himself to be cheerful again. "I'm Chymes, student of the mysteries of the world. I suppose you could call me a witch if that means anything to you, of both the Old and Meadow Blooms." he shrugs "Yet right now I'm just bloody cold, though I think I found something worth my effort!"

"Why a flower? She cares little for flowers beyond how they feed and draw from the land?" It leaned down to examine the flower, carefully not touching it. "Though this one is unfamiliar."

It moved around Chymes, the heat of Telas's Promise and scent of the swamps wafting off it as it moved. "You aren't one of the dead ones. What are you?" It's voice was genuinely curious, more interested in learning about this new person than simply tempting them.

"Oh well, there's a lot of meaning in flowers. Which ones they are, the places they grow, and the condition they are in all can tell a tale. This one right here..." Chymes kneels down and fondly touches the flower "is a rare expression of Her, Lilia's, love. It can be used for powerful alchemy, but I like many others prefer to use it to express our everlasting love." there is some sorrow in his voice, but he allows his inner palace to begin feeding off the curiosity in the air and uses it to keep him on track

"As to what I am... well that's an interesting question right there! I like to think I am still the same me from when I was a boy, but I no longer have my pale skin or black hair now do I? I am what is termed a 'beloved', one who returns to this world by the love of the goddess and those she loves." he reaches over, not touching but still examining Gilkmora's Wail "And who might you be my dear ephemeral conversationalist? You appear to be a temptation or tuatha, but don't quite match either of them!"
"I am one who tempted a Goddess out of grief. Reborn from Hope and Ash. I carry promises in my being and her spores sing life into me. I fulfill her will when she can not. I mourn the past and dream of futures." The winds whipping around the creature grew as it increased in size, careful to not damage the flower or Chymes as it did so. As it did so a sound emanated from deep within, one of mourning and loss wordless in its agony. The whirlwind slowed and shrank returning to a shadowy humanoid form much closer to Chymes size. The sound from before faded, but brief moments of it can be hear when the wind blows toward Chymes. "You may call me Glikmora's Wail."

"I do not know who Lilia is. Another lost sibling perhaps? She has lost so many, all retreating from this land. Our concern is for her children, to prepare them for her absence." Glikmora's Wail sighed, a strangely human action from the creature, and looked westward over the ocean. "She travels this way with some, I had hoped to see her before she followed the call as well. Yet I dare not spend to long away from Adanat, the world is a harsh place and her children so small."

"Adanat you say? How intriguing, I don't know that place." Chymes tastes the unfamiliar word, trying to not let the concern seep into his inner palace, keeping what did held within for now .

"Well if you are so concerned why don't we head on over? I have some know-how on various things and find it hard to just leave numerous little ones unattended." he said trying to look dignified, yet he kept shivering in the cold; his bones and flowers brushing up against each other in a way that gave a strange mixed sound. "And having an excuse to quickly leave here would be appreciated. Do you have a means of getting us there quickly or should I provide us entrance to Lilia's Desire?"

"I do not know this Lilia's Desire but I can take you through Desire Heart to Telas' Promise. But stay close, much has changed in my fathers lands. I simply need you to walk with me." Glikmora's Wail wasn't feeling concern, but it's deeds were tied in a truthful promise. But this strange and somehow cold skeleton was interesting. And with the great project completed, interesting sounded like the perfect gift for the Lolats.

With that Glikmora's Wail started moving forward stepping into the plane that was Desire Heart but also changed.

"I believe we maybe talking about th- wait don't go without me! It'll take hours for me to cross on my own!" Chymes says reaching a hand out to grasp Glikmora's Wail as they crossed planes.

A low chuckle filled the changing space. "We were there once you desired it. I simply empowered that desire." Glikmora's Wail started moving through the plane, avoiding other creatures and strange growths there. "I do not understand why fathers lands changed. The smell and taste is wrong now."

"Ah well, I suppose I might know the answer to that mystery." Chymes says, trying to brush himself off and regain some dignity as he observed the flower glade the two were in, a comfortable looking pond with fairy looking creatures nearby which was certainly a tuatha not that far away "My lady Lilia has found her way here, I do not know the circumstances behind this; however... I am fairly certain that the power that constructed this place had left before then." he gives a sigh

"Yet for now I suppose we should just leave and head on over to the land you mentioned. I'm curious as to what it'll be like; should I be worried about anything in particular there?"

"Many aurochs are now tamed and the Flame Tigers fizzle in the damp. Avoid strange creatures covered in mud, they watch but then dissolve into the ground when approached. Avoid the moving rocks in deep caves."

Glikmora's Wail waited for the skeleton to start moving with it before continuing on, staying to the darkest sections. "She did mourn father, I was there. But this place no longer tastes of need, no longer feels like that of unbalanced despair. It hums with want, it demands. It is a place of transit only, no longer home."

"Interesting observation, yet its certainly the home of plenty others now; and I would add that it is a beautiful place. Especially near the heart of it all... well no matter! As interesting as the idea of learning more of what this place was before She came here, I do believe we shouldn't dawdle here. That tuatha's beginning to eye us somewhat, and while I'm sure you could deal with them effortlessly I'd rather avoid anyone being harmed here." Chymes notes with some urgency in his voice.

"We are almost there." And indeed they were, a dry wasteland stretching out before them, faint images of temptations staying at the periphery of their vision. About 2 miles before them lay the first hints of the swampland.

"I warn you now, do not enter any tree. You may be a skeleton, but they will return all to the earth."

The air here was warm but the wind blowing from the wetlands bordering the desolated land smelt of earth and wet. But not cold.

"You don't say...." Chymes says eyeing the swamps with trepidation "Well I did ask for this, lets go see some of the litte ones... eh, do they have a proper name for themselves?" he began to take off his jacket, hoping that things would go well.

Glikmora's Wail escorted the skeleton through Adanat, introducing him to the nomadic Lolats. They feared the visitor not, as they had been introduced in trust. The shape and bones drew curiousity from the Lolats as they wondered at this creature that the earth neither preserved nor ate.

The variety of wetlands was beyond imagination. From areas where reeds filtered salt from the ocean (Glikmora's Wail refused to allow Chymes to venture to close to the ocean. It was far to dangerous.) To near forests that showed signs of annual floods. To the vast plains, wet expanses where the aurochs hooves cut through a weave of vegetation as they picked their way through well trodden paths.

And everywhere they ventured small groups of Lolat's greated them. How many traveled in a group varied, sometimes only 5 or 6, an auroch pulling a simple sledge and nothing else. Sometimes in groups of 100s, everyone working at some job to repair or build up the caravan.

It was during these meetings one of the minor airships, barely more than a transport sledges converted to house a canopy and a Tanal Dan. A small fleet of these were towed by auroch, the Lolats climbing up and down woven ladders. The constructions were not perfect, having to be widely spaced to avoid collision, but the concept, even in miniature was sure to astound.

The tour was almost done, only two places left for a visit. In the first Glikmora's Wail reminded Chymes of the warning of the trees. They followed a small group of Lolat's their sledge carrying the remains of 3 dead. 2 of age, one from the rock creatures in a research forage. Inside the forest the bodies were laid inside hollow trees, unadorned in any way. Then the trees closed, sealing all access from the outside. Chymes was informed they would stay like this until the nutrients in the bodies were returned to the trees and earth.

Having witnessed death, Chymes was now introduced to birth. The Vernal Pools were an experience completely unlike the Dead Forest. Groups of Lolats congregated in forest and clearings around the Pools. There stories were exchanged, the Lolats found new groups to journey with and expertise was traded. The small airships were lashed to trees while the ground sledges sat among them. Once a group had its fill, they would disengage from the mass and continue their journey through Adanat. But soon another group would arrive and new exchanges would start.

It was not long before the first generation of the season emerged from the pools, mostly Ota Lolats and regular Lolats, with a few Dona Lolats presumably from a previous season.

"So. Have we taught you anything?"

Chymes was a skeleton who was easily moved by the sort of sights he saw. He greeted every fellow traveler with a smile in his voice, wanting to hear their stories by a campfire at night. He stared dumbstruck at the first airship he saw floating in the sky, asking away questions as he hurriedly wrote in his journal. The skeleton shivered and gave a prayer at the sight of what happens to the dead, hoping their souls have peace; and he was emotional at the sight of new life, his voice cracking a little as he gave a greeting to the little ones who could not understand him.

When asked if he was taught anything he could only chuckle. "Of course I have learned much in our travels, yet I would still consider myself a student. There is much I wish to learn about this land that will take detailed study. I hope to make a home for those like me as I have twice before, to help me in my endeavor as I help them start theirs." he shakes his head "Ah, where are my manners? Before that I should show you this my dear ephemeral friend." and pulls out a strange yellow flower from his robes, one that appeared comically too large to be contained within. Its petals were strangely arranged, and the thing began to rotate.

"Ever since I saw an airship I have been struck at the ingenuity of the lolat people. I searched for something that may add to them, and came across this flower who's wind grows strong under light." as he was speaking, the flower under the light of the sun was beginning to spin faster and faster, Chymes's flowers were fluttering in the wind as if he was in a storm at this point. He put a cloth over it and held on tight, letting the wind die down before it became too strong for him to hold onto. "Yet I regret I have nothing I can give you personally." Chymes says somewhat downcasted at the thought.

"Share what you can, learn what you do not know. More than just new life comes from these Pools." Taking pity on the skeleton, Glikmoras Wail pointed to the hard working Lolats, busy talking and working. "They gather here to share, but nothing is new. The stories will grow old and excitement fade. Yet you, you are new. Share your stories, your knowledge."

“Of course, now then where to start…”

Spoiler: AP Actions

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7/20

(Artifact Charge) - Bless - Zephyr Blooms: These yellow flower grow in a turbine blade shape, able to spin at supernaturally fast rates depending on how much light is given to them. If it were not for their roots and iron-like stems then Zeraph Blooms would uproot themselves under a clear sunny day. After a few years the stems produce soft buds reminiscent of dandelion seeds that are blown away by the flowers.

(Artifact Charge) - Alter Land - Zephyr’s Call: Made with a massive tree supernaturally buoyant at its center, Zephyr’s Call is an island floating in the sky. Around the same size as a sky whale it stands still in the air with numerous zephyr blooms keeping it balanced against even the harshest storms.

(Artifact Charge) - Create Mundane Concept - High Stakes Games: A form of gambling begins to develop on Zephyr’s Call and in much of Adanat where lolats use games of chance to make important decisions. Oftentimes there are aspects of skill involved, but ultimately chance is given responsibility in these cases.

(Artifact Charge) - Witches of the Zephyr Bloom: This lolat based organization is founded in large part by the curiosity Chymes has with airships and his continued preparation for mortals against tuatha trickery. While unable to study cultivary in this land, the witches of the zephyr bloom nevertheless are interested in the cultivation of the unique flora of Adanat; in addition they are properly trained on how to make pacts with tuatha without being tricked.

This latter part of their training has developed beyond what Chymes instructed, with the witches of the zephyr bloom regularly using games of chance in their pact making as a means to keep things fair.

Like other witches the witches of the zephyr bloom are defensive in their dealings and respectful towards the kami of the land, though zephyr witches have a strange respect for temptations as well. Regularly using them as devil figures to be respected and kept at bay.

The War Host

Amid the War Host there began to be a frightening development. As necromantic practices advanced and the users of the practice of death became more familiar with the aspects of conflict and war that were starting to emerge; a new kind of undead began to replace many of the old skeletons.

Born at first by a human bathed in the Delusion Cauldron, the results were able to be studied and replicated by mortal necromantic magics. By simply thrusting a live sapient creature into a pit of molten lava while necromantic power was channeled into them, a new advance warrior type of construct would emerge.

Knowing only war they were unsuited to any other task besides killing or guarding, but these Steel Skulls were an accomplishment that made many necromancers living in Bhal’nabool proud.

Spoiler: AP Action

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(Artifact Charge) - Create Monster - Steel Skulls: These abominations are entirely covered in hard steel, their heads appearing to be bone yet nevertheless supernaturally hardened by the forging process that created them. Each one created needs a live sapient creature being thrust into and being killed by molten iron as a necromancer works their magic.

Besides their greatly increased defensive capabilities compared to a standard skeleton Steel Skulls are more proficient fighters, programmed to be able to fight even without a necromancer giving them commands. They are however unable to do anything else but fight.

Due to the resource cost to produce them they cannot replace skeletons in the War Host entirely, but they act as elite infantry under their necromancer masters.

Spoiler: What one looks like.

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**MutantDragon** · 2023-11-05, 12:06 AM (ISO 8601)

From Life, Death.

It was an ordinary village far to the South of Yalasere. The residents heard stories and took in the occasional refugees, but they had never encountered Cultists of the Burning Sun, never witnessed steel swinging madmen swoop down atop the backs of firedrakes, and never felt the sting of true horror. They faced danger and felt loss, yes, but they had never truly experienced the worst of the world. And so, as the villagers went about another morning in their safe and quiet haven carved by the labor of their forbearers, they were unprepared for the chaos to follow.

It started with an explosion of fire in the village hall. All within were incinerated as flaming splinters of the building were blasted across town, stabbing and burning any unfortunates caught in their paths. As panic set in, some brave and steady individuals tried to organize an effort to control the fires now spreading across the small settlement. They were swiftly and suddenly cut down by a sweeping wave of jagged glass that moved and twisted according to some violent will. At last, when the bloody remains of those still outside were no longer recognizable, a figure materialized within the village. It slipped into reality with a palpable wrongness about its being and an aura of pure hate, appearing as a humanoid mass of molten metal. As it appeared, the glass shifted into an orbit of the being, lazily twisting about it as a red haze followed along behind the sharpened satellites. Those left cowering within what shelter they could find were filled with a sense of terror and dread they could not quite fathom. As the metal monster slipped towards the burning center of the village, its voice slithered into their minds. It spoke only one word. "Feast."

The villagers' minds were overwhelmed by the wright of the command and, with an intimate awareness of what they were doing, they turned on those huddled beside them and began to rip, tear, and eat. Friends ate friends. Brothers ate sisters. Husbands ate wives. Mothers ate sons. In a brutal contest of strength, those unlucky survivors shed their humanity to become something more vile. And when at last their senses returned, when only a handful of blood-drenched cannibals remained where mere minutes before there was a prosperous village, their minds were branded with a name. Zargog. And though their lord had vanished much as he appeared, they knew of his power and they knew the ultimate truth of their natures. And they would serve the Molten One until the cycle of death came for them as well.

Spoiler: OOC

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Rollover! 9AP + 5AP = 14AP

Create Organization (Zealots of Zargog) 1AP: The Zealots of Zargog, initially warped survivors of a brutal attack by the demigod they now serve, are, in many ways, similar to the Cult of the Burning Sun. The primary differences are the objects of worship and extents of their respective power. While the sun cultists have assembled an empire, the zealots are a new organization, currently just simple raiders on the South of the continent with no imminent signs of becoming something more. [Trickery (Corruption) 4/10]

14AP - 1AP = 13AP
MUA 1

**DasIrrlicht** · 2023-11-06, 06:04 PM (ISO 8601)

Naury, a case against themself
The Divine is not flawless. never was. Naury did not pretend it was either.
But recently, they have come to look for their flaws. Find their mistakes. Think about them.
Focus on them.

'Am I a good person?'
From the very beginning, they did things wrong. Souls which prolong life in a way that makes the final death seem preferable. Souls are People. There is no denying that anymore for Naury. The lakes of their lands where killing anything that came into contact with them instead of being sources of life as such waters are supposed to be... Nearly everything, for the Alkaline Water was not content to stay put and instead crawled out of its beds to hunt for prey itself.
Giving the humans the first step to the healing of their wounds soon after lead to spreading the Slimes they created. And as soon as they turned their back on that continent to perform some damage control back on the mountain chain, a cult had sprung up to which Naury just stood idly by.
The Gelatons, as good as they are, just are more proof for the carelessness Naury acts with. And as soon as human refugees arrived, they essencially gave them in each others care to instead just watch as things unfold.

'Just watching as things unfold...'
That is something they did a lot. So much that they created something to watch for them once they found it to much to just watch themself. Or rather, when they found it to painful to watch themself, as the doubt started nagging on them. Helping Lilia was something they came to regret. Not because it was the wrong thing to do, but because it opened their eyes to all the wrong they already had done. Instead of solving any of that, however, they just retreated away from their problems. They created the Envoy to put part of their mind on the first world, with people, mortal strangers. To take their mind of in the most literal way. Even now, that part of the mind is out there, mingling, thinking about other things and listening to stories of the mortals as they share in their customs.

'Mind Off...'
Visiting the great library was... a severe error. A sign of the future maybe, a show what obsession can do to even what is so far above the mortal. Maybe it only could because the divine is so far above everything. With the laws bending to them and 'needs' not truly being something they have, it is only oneself that keeps one together.

'...'

The end of Naury was not surprising to the few beings that where somewhat close to the god. But it was sudden. Only few where truly able to notice it happen however.
Firstly, the Echo-Servants. Maybe it was a instinctual thing, maybe they sensed the change of energies on the Plane of Echos. They knew Naury, as they knew them, was gone.
Secondly, the Souls themself. They never 'knew' Naury, and the name did mean nothing to most of them as the Echo-Servants explained them where and what they where. But the fact that they could learn what they where was enough. They where People.
Third, the Flower Maidens. There are only few in existence, but the slight changes of the Plane of Echos was clear to them in the instance it happened. A part of what made them is gone. The energies are still in them, of course, but they knew a part of their history was forever lost.
And finally: Someone who had been not forgotten, as much as they had been left behind. Possibly intentional. Possibly a last time Naury has botched things up.

Nau̶͙̓r̶̺̉y̶̙̐,̴ ̸s̴p̸e̷n̷d̵i̸n̷g̵ ̵t̴i̸m̵e̴ ̸w̵i̶t̸h̵ ̶a̴ ̷f̸r̶i̶e̷n̸d̵
A small, basement tavern had a regular. Always ordered two drinks to share with another guest, and always payed in rare and unusual coin. The mind of this patron was momentarily clouded, maybe the alcohol had for the first time catched up to the nameless regular with the hidden face? Yet no, that was not it. Something was missing. Someone was missing. The majority of a someone, yet not all of them.

And with someone missing, someone else was left behind. Now more a 'one' then ever before. "Dinas, can you tell the 'tend to put it on my tab? I gotta check on somethin'. Say its for Na-... Naseki? Really?" And the regular, not nameless, left the building into the night to find... Themself. Or what is left of themself.

Spoiler: Naury Funeral Rites

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2 AP LEFT
6 AP ROUNDSTART
30 AP Domain Sacrifice
~~Death (Souls), Creation (Alchemy), Life (Vitality), Society (Stories), Society (Discovery), Law (Promises)~~

2 AP - Create Race [Funeral Rites]

Soul (Souls)
In a last act, Naury removed themself as they gave the souls of the dead what they always should have had: Awareness. Life.
Any being with a Soul, so any being born on the First World, gets granted a Soul just as before. However, on death the soul that gets moved to the Plane of Echos stays sentient and sapient. The Soul takes the form of their own self-perception, if slightly translucent (Which means they are usually not exactly looking like they did when alive) and generally struggle with interacting with physical objects if not putting their full attention on it. (Not like that is exactly noticeable while on the Plane of Echos.) Retaining memories and most skills of their old life, they are argurably the same person as before. However, if a soul gets partially drained somehow in life, it reflects in death as partial or total memory and skill loss. Souls that are Coined stay inert.
However, just as much as the original creation, this act is a botched work. Most of the original flaws of the souls persist in their new form, in a way: Souls still suffer from incredible short 'lifespans', fading away after roughly a month, their mind fizzling out shortly after they lose the ability to interact with things in their final hours. However, individuals that are remembered for their actions, ideals or personality by the living of the first world stretch the usual month for as long as they are properly remembered.
Addendum: Souls can not access Inner Worlds on their own, or create one of their own. Any Inner World they had when alive suffers its normal fate as it does when the owner dies.

4 AP - Retaining [Funeral Rites]

True Alchemy
The process of some Divine Alchemy was one of the first things the original incarnation did, and so does Naseki keep the True Alchemy they Envoy came to give the People of the Chain close to themself as a integral part of who they are. A creator, and a result, of combining stuff to create more then the sum of their parts.

1 AP - Retaining [Funeral Rites]

Slimes
And one earliest mistakes, the first thing they made they stood unaware of for a time, now embraced.

2 AP - Retaining [Funeral Rites]

Gelaton (Gelatons)
There is a lot more they have in common with them now then when they where 'just' their first person to meet.

2 AP - Retaining [Funeral Rites]

The People of the Chain
In truth, they had founded themself. But as Naury tried to keep in touch with them, so does Naseki. One could say

3 AP - Retaining [Funeral Rites]

The City of the Shade, Dinas Penumbra
In a way, Naseki was already a friend of that Loci. A drinking buddy, even. Not like alcohol can truly affect a divine entity, but the company is what counts.

1 AP - Retaining [Funeral Rites]

Echo-Servant (Echo-Servants)
The first intentionally intelligent creation of Naury. Naseki is part Echo-Servant still, and they stay loyal to their creator deity.

2 AP - Retaining [Funeral Rites]

The Echo-Walkers
And like everything walking the plane of Echos, they are considered part of the Echo-Walkers by the Servants. The Walkers always saw the Souls as People, and that has been validated now.

3 AP - Retaining [Funeral Rites]

The Walkers Collection
Magic books stay magic books. Maybe more important to the walkers then ever before being how much less power Naseki has, and will ever have, then Naury.

2 AP - Retaining [Funeral Rites]

A Change of Managment
Old systems emplaced by the original owner, and the rewriting of Naury towards the own name, mean that Tirals Treasury still recognises Naseki as its master.

________
16 AP Left
2 MUA Charges Left

Progress:

Naseki
Player Name: DasIrrlicht

Domains (Portfolios): Ooze (Gelatons)
Alignment: Chaotic Good

Symbol: A alchemical flask, with an active reaction. Usually involving Coal and Ooze of some form.

Appearance: Like the Envoy before, Shapeshifting is in Naseki's nature. There is still a preference for a small statue and coverings appropriate to a Alchemist or Witch, depending on where they are. Their body however stays fluid on the inside, revealing a rainbow of colours if stabbed, sliced or in any other way broken up. Unlike Naury, Naseki does keep some facial features visible, usually a eye or the mouth.

Personality: As a combination of a fragment of Naury now left on its own & a Echo-Servant that had the misfortune of serving as the Envoy when the Deity broke themself, what once was a Avatar is now its own, permanent being. Naseki is more proactive and more direct in their involvement to whatever they put a interest in, while generally having a desire to better the world. However, possibly because of the nature of their creation they tend to be somewhat impulsive, and still lack the foresight their progenitor had.

**MutantDragon** · 2023-11-06, 08:44 PM (ISO 8601)

Exit Light

Timmy was afraid of the dark. The dark was where the monsters lived. He didn't like monsters. He didn't like monsters that soared across the skies spewing fire on little boys. He didn't like monsters who looked like men and chopped each other to bits for food. He didn't like monsters that sprang up from magic to turn people into other monsters. He didn't like monsters that made fishermen drown. He didn't like giant cats that burned everything in sight. He didn't like massive blobs of jelly that would eat people. Timothy didn't like monsters, and the dark was where they lived. So, as is natural, his pulse quickened with the onset of night. But however dark it got, he knew that his mama and papa would protect him. Of course they would; they were his parents, you see. They always knew what to do. So, one evening, as he came home from play, running as the sun started to get low in the sky, he expected he would return to a warm supper and a story. They were his parents, you see. They always knew what to do. So, when he walked into the little home his father built just before he was born, he was expecting a warm supper and a story. He didn't expect it to be oh so dreadfully dark.

"M-mama? Papa!"

"We're here, Timmy. Come join us."

That wasn't his mother's voice.

"M-m-mama...?"

"Come on Timmy. Don't be scared."

But Timmy was scared. It was dark. That was where the monsters lived.

"I-i-it's t-too dark! I can't see!"

"I know."

The voice was closer. It was wrong. That wasn't his mama. Timmy bolted for the door. He just had to get outside. The sun was still up outside. He could go to one of the neighbors' houses. He could get help. He could have them find mama and papa. They'd know what to do. They always knew what to do. But there was no door. There was no escape.

"Don't be scared, Timmy. Come eat with us. You don't want the meat I prepared to get cold, do you?"

"I want my mama! I want my mama!"

"Come, Timmy. Come with me. She's waiting for you at the table. You don't want to leave her waiting, do you?"

Timmy whimpered and cowered, but it was to no avail. A hand (or what Timmy thought was a hand), grabbed him gently by the shoulder and guided him deeper into what once was his home. Then, suddenly, he saw light. A dim firelight danced about the dining room. Wait. That's not right. They didn't't have a dining room. In the center of the spacious and dimly lit room-that-should-not-be, Timmy saw a massive wooden table surrounded by equally massive chairs cushioned with some kind of leather Timmy had never seen before. The leather seemed wrong somehow. At the far end of the table, a massive man-like figure made of a shiny metal liquid sat in the largest and grandest of chairs. Shards of glass hovered around its head in a cruel halo, while the walls on either side of it had dragon skulls mounted close to the ceiling. Whatever had led Timmy here was nowhere to be seen.

"Sit"

The command carried a weight and power Timmy could not resist, so he clambered, almost comically, into a chair larger than he was. His head barely cleared to massive table even from this elevated vantage point, and he struggled to see the figure around large slabs of an unknown meat piled onto a shiny metal plate. Timmy stared at the figure for what seemed like years before daring to speak. "Where are mama and papa?"

The answer came not from the figure's non-existent mouth, but instead wormed its way into Timmy's mind. "They're here. Eat."

"I-i'm not h-hungry."

"Yes you are. Eat."

Timmy tried again and again to excuse himself, trying new tactics and excuses each time, but he was always met with the same reply: "Eat." When at last he could not formulate a thought beyond his fear and could not choke a word out between his tears, he lifted a shaky hand towards the meat and tore off a bite. And another. And other. Egged on by the silent stare of featureless metal, he ate more and more of the weird meat. Even when he wanted to throw up, he ate. Even when he wanted to try his luck at running away and out the door-that-should-exist. He ate for hours. Or perhaps minutes? He did not know and he did not care. He only wanted to be home, his real home, and safe in the arms of his parents. He didn't want to be here with this monster. But still, he ate as he was told, and, when his plate was clean, the lights died. He was left alone in the darkness for several moments before he heard the laugh. It was cruel laughter that came from all around. It surrounded him in that darkness. He felt something brush past his feet and yanked them onto the chair. He heard the scrape of the table as it was moved away from him. He felt hot breath on his neck. There was something breathing behind him. There were monsters in that darkness. Timmy screamed two names.

"Mama! Papa!"

"I told you Timmy," that head voice cooed "that they're here. They're with you right now."

And those were the last words Timmy ever heard before the darkness crept into his mind. Timmy was locked away beneath the darkness, screaming and crying for his parents. But Timmy screamed in vain, because dark is where the monsters live.

Spoiler: OOC

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Create Greater Utility Artifact (Darkness Weaver – Create Monster) 5AP: The Darkness Weaver is a child who was kidnapped by Zargog and made to eat his own parents. Following this, he was placed into a supernatural slumber and filled with a portion of Slintoch's power, allowing the nightmares of the dormant child to be given terrible life in the real world. The child currently resides within Inferni, rendered immune to the stresses of the locale by the power invested in him. [Trickery (Corruption) 9/10]

13AP - 5AP = 8AP
1MUA
1GUA

**DasIrrlicht** · 2023-11-07, 09:06 PM (ISO 8601)

Naseki, of Soul & Siege & Slime
The Plane of Echos was... Lively. In a stark contrast to how it was mostly occupied by the literal dead for the most part. The Echo-Walkers usually where able to quickly explain what happened to the dead, and what will happen to the Souls soon. But how people took 'being dead' differed a lot between people.
Some where accepting of it. Usually ones that lived either a rather good and fulfilled life, or a life they did not see much in to begin with.
Others fall deeply depressed since their life was cut short, but they now have the oppertunity to think about that fact.
There are always a few that attempt to bargin with the Echo-Servants, despite the fact that the Echo-Servants can not do anything to 'save' them. They are dead already, afterall.
Anger is a common reaction. Most of the time, it is the kind that already lashed out in life that react this way in death. However, the Souls can barley harm the more robust servants, or even each other, in a way that matters.
And some, of course, simply believe to dream, denying that they are dead.

A slightly weird thing for them to note was that something was missing. A lot of people for the first time in their life could not hear the song of the ocean, demanding their will to hold strong against its offers and demands.

"Was Naseki really the best we could come up with?" The person mumbled to themself. They have spend a bit of time traveling, and figuring out their circumstances, a their mind was still struggling to settle properly in one place. "Someone had to come up with something. We could have sticked to Naury you know? But we are not Naury, not totally. Yeah, Yeah..."

Their travels lead them to some far away lands. Lands both fantastical and deadly, as they for the moment present themself to as a Alchemist for hire. They where heading towards Bhal’nabool as part of a much larger group, a unusual mixture of Inksworn Adventurers, Mercenaries and more mundane people that took up arms to proactivley defend their home city. Their armarment was a bit of a mixed bag, usually representative to what group of Kish-Eru. Banners of varying colours and size, some groups even normally considered little more then street gangs. Even some attachments of Merchants and Witches where with them, one because they aimed to pick the field of battle clean afterwards, and until then offer some nice and welcome conviniences and luxuries to the people. The other because of their believes to preserve life, wishing to aid the wounded they would inevitably have.

Somewhat unusual for the groups from the first city was however the lack of a clear leader. Many saw themself as qualified, and until they manage to find themself a win to proof why they are better suited then the others, they will need to bide their time and cooperate in a more open command structure. For the moment, they travel below the mountains, soon to climb atop the one they belive closest to the bloody flower forest and its fortress. There they would set up their own camp, utilising the height advantage, and the presence of some mercenaries that where send before them.

The alchemists they had with them had plenty of time to whip up something new during their travels, and the command-structure was forced to spend their shared time by figuring out better strategies for the coming confrontations to proof each other who is more fit to lead. This two things collided as some 'new' weapons came into the mix to be united with the new tactics to use them.

Of course, many of the new weapons where simply solving the problem of scale. A Ballista is much like a crossbow given the right size, making them more precise and improving upon the ammonition however made them much more useful then before. Mantlets and their bigger sibling, the 'Cat' could provide some basic cover in most places, often it was simple aditons such as adding some wheels or adding a thin and crude metal plate to the large wooden surfaces that made them more practical. The Arrow Cart was one of few truly 'new' additions, but the varaiety of alchemical effects one could bind to what is essnecially a fireworks-launcher pointed at the enemy had many a Alchemist salivating.

As fire was proven ineffective for the most part, the obvious awnser would be to swing towards the total opposite: Ice. Freezing concoctions to be attached to arrows and explode into small clouds that lamed the foe and kills of insect and plant surprisingly well. The cooled metal is also easier to outright break then bend, and steel that is at freezing temperatures directly upon the skin leads to hides being ripped away by a persons own armour, in some rare cases allowing their own blood to freeze them in place, unable to move without breaking themself even more down until they become unrecoverable... Fighting Fire with Fire has failed, so the Freezing touch of both True and False Ice will brittle and break the foes instead...

Bhal’nabool did change a bit as that mixed army took position in the mountains, reading for the day they would attack the foes position for the first time. It became 'wetter' in a way. Alkaline Waters occasionally formed into small ponds and spawned the common slimes (Usually called Oozes by the locals in reference to the more gigantic ones in the jungels further inland), which to most intelligent creatures where a mere pest, and the more animalistic often misjudged as harmless until a feet was trapped and started to disolve.

But more noteworthy was one Slime. The largest of this alkaline ponds was more of a lake, and its banks where clean of grass, blood or life, and unnatural smooth. But most peculiary, it was not always in the same spot. Multiple empty lake beds closeby, just as devoid of life, could lead to one solving what the mystery of this lake below the mountains was.

One single, enormous creature. Grown to proportions that made it seem impossible to recognise as alive. The 'waters' of the river would swap out of the bed onto the bank when a animal or person came closer, near instantly disolving it as the 'wave' rolls back into the rest of the lake. After a few days, the whole creature would suddenly start to move, rolling over the land below until tiring itself out, at which point it would rest as its alkaline fluids dig it a new bed to rest in. Thankfully there is seemingly only one of them around, and it struggles with inclines.

Spoiler: Naseki AP Spending

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16 AP LEFT
0 AP - Blessing/Curse [MUA Charge]

Ambient Energies (Echos)
With the souls using most of the energy inside of them to sustain themself before releasing what is left it in a comparably short time span once they can not keep themself together anymore, one would think the Plane of Echos would have troubles still sustaining the Echo-Servants. However, they still exist. The Echo-Walkers tried to find awnsers in their books, but Naseki claims it is because what is left of Naury has permeated the plane.

5 AP - Greater Utility Artifact (Create Advanced Concept) [Creation(Alchemy) 5/10]

The Traveling Laboratory
The name may be a bit miss-leading, for it invokes the idea of a building or room being moved around. In truth, it is more a set of alchemical tools, notes and ingredients pulled forth by Naseki that each seem to be perfectly mundane on their own except for their origin. Demonstration, production, and making processes recreateable is its main function. Standartising it is mostly a convinience for the deity, so they need to spend less effort on the actual act performed.

1 AP - Advanced Concept [Creation(Alchemy) 6/10 & GUA Charge]

Siege
The strategies to break down a enemies fortification with time, usually by cutting of their supply lines and then witteling down their strength until they either give up or can be defeated in a final large-scale assault. And of course, the tactics to prevent the enemy of doing the same to oneself.
Siege is mainly defined by surrounding fortifications with ones own fortifications, and of course, the use of the kind of weapon you can hardly use in open field battles. Siege Engines. Catapult, Ballista, Mantlets, and of course many more advanced twist on these over time, such as the rare Trebuchet and Arrow-Carts... Someday to be replaced by even more powerful weapons, until eventually weaponry will outclass the oldest technology of them all: The Wall.
There is plenty more unusual tactics to be found in siege warfare as well. Catapulting rotting corpses to spread pestilence, redirecting or poisoning a river, simple but effective starvation. Potentially, there will never be a end to siege tactics.

1 AP - Sub-Monster (Of Slimes) [Creation(Alchemy) 7/10]

The Ooze Lake of Bhal’nabool
A giant slime creature grown to the proportions of a lake. It moves only once every few days, before camoflaging itself a a water feature in the ever-shifting landscape as it collects the energy needed to move again. While there is only one of it in existence, it seems near impossible to kill thanks to its enormous size. If somehow cut down enough that it feels itself threatened, it will split its mass into a cascade of smaller slimes. A new lake will form soon after, as a different slime, possibly one of the cascade, possibly a random wild one, grows to fill the niche left in the formers destruction.
Much like the (in comparison not so) Giant Yalasere Jungle Oozes, it can harden its membrane to resist water and weaponry better. This giant creature is able to do so in a way that allows it to become hydrophobic, making it all but immune to rain and even rivers.

________
9 AP Left
1 MUA Charge

Progress:
Creation(Alchemy) 7/10

**MutantDragon** · 2023-11-11, 02:09 AM (ISO 8601)

Monsters in the Forest

A large force from Kish-Eru entered the forest of Bhal'nabool seeking cultists from the empire. They were determined to win. They would return home, bringing riches, glory, and promises of safety to those who were left behind. Their families would not have to fear the monsters of the West. That was the plan. But, as they entered that dark, hot, unnatural forest, they felt a kernel of fear worm its way into their determined hearts. Still, they pressed on. They would destroy the cult.

---

It was midday when the first scream reached Jart's ears. Perhaps a score of the crazed cultists were ravaging the back ranks of the small army. They fought like crazed demons and the disorganized soldiers that routed before them were cut down with ease, but, as the rest of the army reoriented to smash the offending madmen through the sheer weight of numbers, a cultist blasted a hole through the closing lines with a wave of fire, and the the imperial savages quickly exploited this hole to vanish into the forest. To say this was unusual would be an understatement. Something was wrong, and even a rookie like Jart could see it. Worse, this was the first time most of them had ever seen combat, and twenty-two of their troops were dead and another twenty were injured without a single fallen cultist to show for it. The kernel of fear grew.

---

Not two hours later, three fireballs slammed into the few supply carts they were able to bring into the forest. A large force of one-hundred-and-thirty soldiers detached from the main army and charged into the trees where the fireballs came from. No sooner did they disappear from viewing did a dozen imperial cultists burst from the other side of the army and fall upon the injured and their caretakers, slaughtering all those who stood in their path. But, again, they were gone before any serious resistance could be mounted. Thirty men died and four more were wounded, though none of the casualties were from the fanatical empire. Twenty-four minutes later, less than eighty troops of the hundred-and-thirty who pushed the original attackers returned, the rest having been claimed by traps, "natural" hazards, and a devastating ambush. Apparently, five cultists were slain during the ensuing skirmish.

---

As night closed in, Jart's heart was filled with terror. After the fireball incident that destroyed a fifth of their supplies and so many of his friends, the flora and fauna took the lives of another dozen men. The lucky ones were killed immediately. The unlucky ones were merely hauled off into the forest by some giant insect and slowly butchered. Jart could still hear Barnabus's screams...

So, to say Jart was afraid would be an understatement. He comforted himself with the knowledge of the watch schedule. With the knowledge that not all his friends were dead. With the fact that...wait. He didn't remember bringing any livestock into the forest. Yet, as he entered his tent, he found a goat kid waiting for him. It was small, adorable, and innocent-looking. Some part of his mind screamed that something was wrong, but he was entranced by that adorable kid. It looked into his eyes with its own big black ones and his heart melted. He could have sworn it smiled at him. He reached out to pet it, that small part of his minds still screaming at him, still begging for him to escape, still sounding every danger alarm it knew. But that was a small part. Because the kid was cute. Too cute! Sweet. Innocent. In this forest?! Jart needed to pet it, to hold it, to protect it. Snap out of it! He would just reach out and...

---

"Jart?" Felk asked in confusion. "It's not your turn for watch duty. What are you doing up?"

No answer. Jart continued to move closer.

"Um, Jart...?"

A smile now. Felk was unnerved by his friend's behavior. By the whole forest, really. Also, perhaps, by the fact he saw so many comrades slaughtered not too long before. But, more immediately, it was Jart's turn to be unnerving. Beside him, Carn continued to watch the forest for signs of monsters, bipedal or otherwise. Jart was giggling now. Felk now saw blood flowing from his hand. That couldn't good. Especially not in this hellscape. As Felk moved to help Jart, a knife thrust itself into his side. His scream of pain alerted Carn to the danger and started to draw the others on guard duty over. Pity the cultists came from the other end of camp.

Spoiler: OOC

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Create Mundane Concept (Guerrilla Warfare) MUA: Learning the take advantage of Bhal'nabool's treacherous environment, the warriors of the Empire of the Sun have adopted hit and run tactics, targeted strikes, and simple traps to efficiently whittle away at much larger forces.

Create Monster (Ghikit) GUA: The ghikit are a species of monsters created by the Darkness weaver. On an external inspection, they appear to be ordinary goat kids. Scratch that, they appear to be the cutest goat kids in the entire history of goatkind. Supernaturally cute, in fact. They actually exert minor mental control over victims, drawing the weak of will in to their dooms. Once a victim is close enough, the ghikit bites them, infecting them with a magical infection that drives them murderously insane.

8AP
0MUA
0GUA

**Mechalich** · 2023-11-11, 06:27 AM (ISO 8601)

In The Web of Worlds
Ecie strode delicately across the Droplet Web, touching worlds with tendrils and spines as she passed. They were growing now, the Inner Worlds, strengthened by the insight of those in the First World who had begun to realize the connected nature of all things. Most of the standouts were Onna, for now, but she noticed developments elsewhere of great interest. In time, most of the other species would develop noteworthy worlds of their own, though it might take a long time indeed, and Ecie had her doubts about the long-term viability of the First World as a place capable of supporting sapient life. Too many distortions, too many discordant predators, and too many deities consumed by destructive impulses all combined to threat the viability of those who lived there.

They would need their inner worlds as refugia, until the storm passed or, failing that, other worlds entire might be made. Yet the worlds were incomplete and limited as there were. A sapient mind was so much less than a divine mind. Even the wisest and longest-lived could contain only a tiny fraction of the necessary knowledge to build more than a simplistic microcosm. Their strength came instead in numbers, and sharing.

Ecie determined to enable the inner worlds to do this. She created a new form of thread, tiny and hollow, and wrapped each inner world in a cocoon of the same. These threads were adjusted and tuned to respond to the signals from each sapient, allowing them to unwind and create links to other worlds that let knowledge, materials, and even beings pass between them. Innate understanding of this capability, and the strict mutual consent necessary to conduct the process was then introduced into the dreams of all sapients of the First World that they might know of this. Slowly, a network of linked worlds would grow, reinforcing each other's mutual evolution.

Spoiler: AP Actions

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Alter Land (1AP): Inner World Conjugation – Inner Worlds can now form links between each other, allowing for the passage of information and a small quantity of materials, with more possible as both worlds and links grow. In theory, this could eventually allow sapient beings found within such worlds to travel across a vast network. [Life (Evolution) 3/10]

Create Mystical Sub-concept (2AP): Inner World Links – the ability to produce linked inner worlds is made known. Such a link requires both sapients to know each other and the choice to produce a link must be mutually consensual. Links can be severed by either party at any time. [Life (Evolution) 5/10]

Starting AP: 0 Rollover Gain: 6 Spent: 3 Remaining: 3

**Demidos** · 2023-11-15, 03:15 AM (ISO 8601)

The Claiming of the First Relic

Three miserable days. Three days of diving from platform to platform, attempting to avoid the wost of the local Fauna. Unfortunately, it seemed that Bhal'nabool's creatures and even plants were resistant to flame, weakening the martial half of the Inksworn Duo as his flames had little effect against firedrakes or blood-sucking insects. But now the prize was in sight. The pair landed heavily on the last island. Ahead, something enormous was lurking in the underbrush.

"No. NO! There's no way we're fighting a gigantified Bloodhost Queen. Those things can kill humans in their regular size. This one must be at least a thousand times bigger!"

"Well, it explains the giant insects at least -- she must have been hatching a new Host when she arrived. And look -- there it is."

Lance that Leaps like Flame points to a glint of metal nestled between two massive plates on the bloated creature's exoskeleton. "She must have been affected when she brushed up against the blade. Look at the blade! It looks exactly like the illustration from the old childrens' book, down to the blue tassel on the hilt!"

The duo were not alone, they were accompanied by a 'harmless animal good to keep around to see when dangerous things may sneak up on us'. She had been informed of two suspicious crimson champions that had begun acting on their own and not reporting to their commanders for over a day, and then conflicting reports as to the champions location. Since then she had on and off again been watching the rogue pair closely to see what they may have been after. Now things made sense to her.

The giant Bloodhost Queen, seething with vile acids dripping down her maw looked over the pair as if they were not there. They were 'brood members' to the Queen after all. Yet it still examined its surroundings, its mind fooled but its senses still giving it an animals instinctual warning that smells were in the air that shouldn't be, that the sounds of intruders were nearby; yet it could do nothing but seethe for now.

The 'harmless animal' for its part kept itself hidden. She wanted to see who should be the aggressor here, all they had to do was touch what they came here for to start.

Lance that Leaps like Fire glances at the beautiful parakeet in the cage that had always been there -- still calm, or as calm as could be expected given the circumstances. Good thing they'd run into???.... found???....decided to bring that along.

"Something must be defective with her blood sense -- usually these things can sense blood in a huge radius, but she seems confused for some reason. See how she keeps turning her head back and forth? She's agitated but can't sense us. Must be these glamour flowers from those Alchemists. I guess they're really as effective as they claimed."

Singer of Rumors is shrinking back into the foliage, clearly interested in being anywhere but here.

"...I guess its up to me then. Stay here with the bird, I'll be back in a flash"

Lance that Leaps like Fire shimmers and vanishes into his namesake lance, which darts up and across the sky before falling like a lightning bolt on the Queen. Two quick slashes across her eyes blind the grotesque creature, and then he returns to human form and leaps towards the Cleaver, completely uninterested in continuing the fight, ready to grab the Cleaver and run.

The Queen hesitated, her face looking away from Lance that Leaps like Fire, as he heard a gasp from behind him as well. Quickly yanking the Cleaver free from the flesh of the behemoth he turned around to face what had caught the Queen's attention.

There they were, the enemy leader, bent on tracking him down and ending him. They looked at him with shock as she readied herself against him, but he knew why she was here and was not deceived.

Lance that Leaps like Flame moves with a speed almost too fast to follow. A flash of a wooden spear with a flaming tip hurtling through the air, and then he is in front of her, a swing from the Cleaver bisects the enemy and the hill behind her in a single fell swoop.
Lance that Leaps like Flame lets out a whoop. "That was amazing.....but....where is?" He pauses, seeming to struggle against a mental block. Something is terribly, terribly wrong.

Another flash, and the wooden spear is back, haft glimmering with the light of flames poured into glowing runes of fire. The cleaver dangles from one end, its tassel wrapped securely around the body of the spear. The spear spins, and then reorients, its tip quivering oddly as if confused, but still pointing loosely at the Maiden of Glamour, before shooting in her direction.

Movement, the sound of a leap, a body shoots up above the spear as a gust of wind with a sneering tone to its older feminine voice "You weaklings really are all fools." Land, shift, leap again next to... the spear's companion's corpse.

A moment's pause, taking in the scene, noticing that there was blood drawn from their foe, searching for where to strike next; just for the voice to chide them "You can only pay attention to one thing at a time, my children were more aware than you."

At that moment the large Queen's red hazy acidic breath sweeps across the field turning flesh into an ozzing mess and slowly eating away at all else that remains. The beast cries out with rage, all the seething aggression it held finally released. The sounds of small hollow rocks could be heard behind the cries as the voice that was not a voice which was... whatever continued to move.

If it were possible for wood to scream, the acid spraying across it wouldve prompted the reaction long ago. Proud glyphs of fire sagged and dissolved under the onslaught of acid, and the gloss on the lances' haft grew dim and opaque. The lance flipped back and forth, struggling to find again its great foe, but seeing only the massive bulk of the Queen it shot off in her direction again, glancing blows drawing blood and ichor. The queen's massive serrated foreleg sheared the back third of the lance from the rest with a whine of softened wood, but dodging and weaving, the lance found an opening and sunk itself up to its own full length into the empty eyesocket of the queen and piercing her brain. His power exhausted, Lance that Leaps like Flame reformed as his human self, weaving, bracing against a treetrunk, struggling to stand upright.

"Come here and taste my fists, monster. I know you're still there. Ive finished one monster, whats one more little monster?"

Halfway though his words become almost singsong, clearly overtaxed and barely able to stand with bloodloss, his right leg missing below the knee and angry red chemical burns crisscroassing his lean frame, the cleaver clutched in one blood-soaked hand. A seasoned warrior would know at a glance that even with no further injuries, he was not long for the world.

"You trusted your mind too much. Weakling." says a triumphant voice stepping out from behind the Queen's corpse, the Maiden of Glamor finally deciding to reveal herself, displaying her flower covered body, the thorny bundles of a multi-colored display that was dominated by blood red. Those red flowers emanated heat as they worked to close the wound that was left on her side, and three yellow ones shone briefly as with a sweep of her hand the flower maiden unleashes a vast gulf of wind to clear the remaining lingering acid between her and Lance that Leaps like Flame.

Pointing a steel spear who's tip was a curved blade the Maiden remarked as the man took a steady stance "You have proven yourself worthy enough to know me. I am the Maiden of Glamor, the beloved of the goddess, champion against the weak."

Lance that Leaps like Flame did not give a remark, guessing she was going to attack the moment he tried.

With a shrug suggesting he was correct the Maiden of Glamor kneeled down, had her yellow flowers glow again, and lunged forward spear first in a gust of wind and supernatural agility that made the air crack like a bullet set loose. The impact destroyed the tree Lance that Leaps like Flame was using to lean on, but he was able to dodge out of the way by leaning away from the tree and into a kick.

He connects, feeling an awful burning sensation from the touch, and uses his one good leg to push away from the Maiden in time before her spear turns around back on him. His foot was too burned to let him retreat far, and the spear connected with his foot, the long blade embedded right through it into the ground.

Not giving up he uses what is left of his strength to push back with his arms, aiming for the Maiden's head as she reached for something. The blade tears his foot in half, but he is able to get a grip on the fire-like Maiden's neck, ignoring the pain, and simply tries to snap her neck then and there.
.

With a sickening crack, Lance that Leaps like Flame does just that. He falls back down, breathing in a sense of victory just as the timed alchemical explosions go off and his life ends.

It takes hours for the buds to return to full blooms on the half-blasted body of the maiden, an hour for her flesh to return to her in full, and another few moments before she gathered the courage to place her neck back in its proper arrangement with a sickening series of cracks. But she is alive, her foes dead; with only their prize for her taking.

A cleaver, a powerful object who's shape felt right for the maiden who loved slaughter so. Yet how powerful it was she wished to discover.

Holding it in her hands for a moment, gauging its weight, she looked out towards the horizon. Her Terror Birds had reported the vague direction of her foes. Could this inspire fear into them?

Making sure she could see off into the horizon, using all the strength she could in a single blow the maiden swung the Cleaver.

At first it appeared as though nothing had happen... then from her perched position the maiden saw the earth split apart to the horizon.

This would do.

Spoiler: AP Actions

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Minor Artifact Charge (0 AP) -- Cleaver of Continents: Bhal'Nabool's Scarred Path -- A scar in the native landscape many tens of miles long, this path extends from the Mosaic Lands to the Kish Eruvian side of Bhal'Nabool, leaving travellers a straightforward path to avoid much of the local flora and fauna, which mostly (although not entirely) avoid the deep cut in the landscape. It is a convenient trail for traders and merchants, but is also an easy place to be ambushed, and is dangerous to traverse on foot during flooding seasons, during which it becomes a canal instead of a path suitable for wagons or carts.

11 AP remaining

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