Lords of Creation in the Playground: Verse 2

[Jeriah]

Teera, Mountain of Eternal Meditation, Amensi

Continuing her tireless mental exercises, Teera makes a decision. It is no longer enough that she meditate and take power from her worshipers. It is time that they follow her example and gain their own powers through meditation. To this end, Teera extends the powers of her mind into the mortal realm and warps the lone mountain sitting on Xiua. It grows taller and more imposing and a monastery forms out of the earth to house her mortal followers. Here, they will be able to meditate and seek out ultimate truth free from the cares of the world around them.


(AP 0 = 3 -1(Mold Land: Mountain of Meditation) -2(Gain Portfolio: Metaphysical Power) (again))

[Gwyn chan 'r Gwyll]

(Response to Xiau'Hi)


"Hello Father, I did not see you there. Sadly, I am not so well. You say I walk the Playground? No more, it may seem! The Playground rejects me! It is not so much the fact that I cannot walk it now, as the fact that I could have walked it earlier that bothers me..."

[Innis Cabal]

Xiua'hi shakes his head

"No, I spoke of your older sister who still lingers on in the Playground. But a question. Dark Child. Do your creations yet walk the world you once did? Still speak of you among them? Do they say "Our father was here, but has brought our memories and feelings into the realm of the gods"?

[Maerok]

Atrocity, Palace

The dreamwalkers fight with surprising grace but are overcome by the martial forces. Atrocity bounds forth, rending a few mortals with the dagger. He hamstrings one guard only to be caught in the chest with a sword as he twirls away. The blade sinks in as far as it will go, and the awakened desire that is Atrocity seeps up the blade and into the next host. He removes the weapon from the remains of a sheperd and flourishes the sword as he grins at Dalam.

The yellow cloaked figure tosses off its robe, revealing itself to be the ash slaad once assigned to stir up trouble between Magnus and Isul. Since then, it has paid the price for its failure as shown by a vast collection of scars it acquired in a slaad mutiny.

Elimanishon, Between Dreams and the Void

"Hmm. Such potential wasted in the First Dreamer..." As a trailing storm of dreams, the Bright One finds dreaming Tarini and swarms her. "Stagnation. Sad. Hmm." The trail becomes an intensified storm of energy and then a miniature plane of focused subconsciousness and dreams.

[Innis Cabal]

Dalam Tashal: Before Atrocity

Dalam readies her weapon, spinning it to the bladed head

"Know you fight Dalam Arwa Tashal little thing."

[Maerok]

Atrocity

"I know nothing. I am nothing. Nothing but a bad dream." He drops his latest weapon and palms his dagger.

[Innis Cabal]

Dalam Tashal

"There is no use in fighting nothing. Begone little thing"

[Maerok]

Atrocity

"Sorry, but I am on strict orders to defy authority, Dalam. The tyranny of existence will end first with Tyranny proper."

[Innis Cabal]

Dalam gives a short, barking laugh

"You simple thing. You serve order by spreading your chaos. How sad that you in your physical form, fall under that which I control. Your…orders are tyranny of a special kind. The Tyranny of Hypocrisy. If you wish to throw off authority, then first throw off the authority that commands you to do so, then I can take you seriously. The best thing to do when presented with Nothing, is to ignore it."

And with that, Dalam turns, walking back within her palace.

[Maerok]

"Every hypocrisy served makes the world chuckle a little. And then it burns over at the corners ever so gently. Repeat as necessary. And look at you. Some tyrantess you are. Demigod trying to be mortal. Before your rise, you were Nothing too. At least I am messed up enough to realize it." He pulls out a cigar as he stabs someone in the back.

[Gwyn chan 'r Gwyll]

Xiua'hi shakes his head

"No, I spoke of your older sister who still lingers on in the Playground. But a question. Dark Child. Do your creations yet walk the world you once did? Still speak of you among them? Do they say "Our father was here, but has brought our memories and feelings into the realm of the gods"?

"You have a point there. I may not be there personally, but I was there once, and they will remember the time when I walked among them, no matter how brief that time was...
Thank you father. You have eased my mind. Now I know what I must do. Thank you."

[Innis Cabal]

Dalam Tashal: To Atrocity

"Such simple creatures. Can they not understand the one desire to nuture their children in peace?"

Dalam then whirls on the beast, her weapon glowing with corrupt energies as it slices through the air

"Die in obscurity"

Xiua'hi: Shadow of the Playground

Xiua'hi simply bows

"I am glad to ease your mind, and that you know your path now that you have joined your family in the heavens. Perhaps you can convince your sister to return to where she belongs as well?

The Age of Mortals is fast approching."

[Maerok]

Atrocity

The fiend is swiftly cut in half with a wave of flickering red light. His essence crawls along the edge of the blade, but is not able to take root in the divine attacker. "Heh..." The swirling mist drifts into a crescent-shaped form as it fades away.

[Nefarion Xid]

*Celonechor*

Lossethir stands, the whole arena remains deathly silent.

"Vincent, you fought well. But you could bring me the head of Eul and I would not presume to grant you anything that is not mine to give. You seek my blessing? Hahaha! Seek it again in seventeen winters. We are creatures of the wind, our passions wax and wane without rhyme or reason. If she loves you still, then I will bless that you two be forever joined. And if her love is diminished...then I will have saved a great deal on catering and you on heartache." He chuckles and has another sip from his goblet.

He repeats, "Seventeen years, Vincent. If you do love her, then it shall seem an eternity. But, you will endure."

He looks out to the field, to his daughter who's finally found the strength to stand. She seethes with a multitude of emotions, rage, lust, fear...she looks like a wounded animal; totally unsure of herself and what she's feeling. Her eyes were heartbreaking.

Softly, "She may need that long to recover..."

[Shmee]

Celonechor, Vincent

"17 years?" Vincent tries to imagine how long 17 years will be, though in his state he is finding it oddly more and more difficult to even think straight. Odd, Amalthea's Word which is all over his body should have healed his concussion and the rest of his wounds, however it hadn't kicked in yet. Perhaps he had over-exerted himself. No matter, he could always heal himself the other way.

"Alright then, I'll write it down in my calander. In 17 years, wedding bells are going to ring."

Vincent throws a glance at Morgan still at the arena and says

"Trust me when I say either way, you love me, you hate me, you'll never forget me."

Still feeling weird, Vincent tells Lossethir

"Hold on, I'll be right back, I've got to uphold my promise." And with that Vincent flicks his fingers and walks through a portal.


Cornu Copiae

A newly appointed scribe is busy cleaning up papers and mopping up blood after the latest fist fight in the Theocratic Chamber of Congress. All of a sudden he feels a presence behind him. He turns around to see the representative of his goddess, standing behind him, bare-chested, bruised everywhere and extremly wobbly.

Vincent looks at the scribe and motions him to come close. Upon comming closer, Vincent tells the scribe

"You there, how would you like to go on a sacred mission?"

"You mean I am to be assigned a divine task like the heroes of old?"

"Ummm......yeah you can say that..."

"I can finally be a crusader!"

"Sure! Why not? Knock yourself out... now then... here is your mission..."

Vincent produces a peice of paper. The scribe reads carefuly the paper, and it turns out that it is a special petition signed by Vincent, which requests that a statue be erected in the market district of Cornu Copiae. The details of the statue is given. The scribe looks puzzled at Vincent and asks him

"What do you want me to do with this?"

"I want you to go and submit this petition to the Monument Committee of course! Now then! Remember, this is a divine mission. Don't fail me!"

The scribe happy to be sent on a mission by his goddess' representative, quickly runs out of the Chamber to commence what would turn out to be a long battle against the Theocratic beurocracy. Of course Vincent knew that it would take years to even get the statue approved, he knew that from the very begining. Vincent is a man of his word, however he will exploit every loop-hole he can find. Vincent knew from the moment that Mogan stated the stipulations that win or lose, he stood to gain a lot and to lose very little.

Several decades into the future, the giant marble statue of Morgan was finaly completed, and joined the several other statues of brave heros and kings which can be found looking down at the city's central boulevard which leads to the city's main temple. Inscribed on the base of the statue in the cyrillic language of Cornu Copiae it reads "To Victory's Vanquisher"

Back in Celonechor

Vincent returns to Lossethir, still feeling wobbly from his fight. Yet Vincent saw an opportunity to talk to Kakhom. All of a sudden, feeling very cold and realizing the reason why, Vincent proceeds to put on his cassock back on. Being fully dressed again he tells Lossethir

"Right, now then... "

But before he can even finish his sentence, Vincent feels a wave of great discomfort pass through his entire body. He tries to speak, but he finds that his mind could not process the words correctly. Looking at Lossethir with eyes wide open, Vincent can feel that his body is failing him as he struggles to keep himself conscious. However, no matter how hard he tried, he was still losing the battle. Just before he completly shut off he hears a familiar mocking voice in his mind

"...consider this... punishment for the anguish you have brought upon that poor girl..."

Vincent is barely able to reply

"damn... you women... always sticking for each other..."

and with that Vincent collapses in the very spot he was once standing.

[Gwyn chan 'r Gwyll]

Xiua'hi: Shadow of the Playground

Xiua'hi simply bows

"I am glad to ease your mind, and that you know your path now that you have joined your family in the heavens. Perhaps you can convince your sister to return to where she belongs as well?

The Age of Mortals is fast approching."

Gwyn chan 'r Gwyll: Trueholme

"I can attest to the power of mortals myself. But, my memory fails me, what sister do you talk of? I think we have not yet met?"

[String]

*Near the Destroyer*

Crikkeshh left, returning to his creator.

*Celonechor*

As the Storm Elemental appeared beside him, Khakom grinned.

"Ah. Crikkeshh! I trust you've delivered my message and recieved a reply?"

The Herald rumbled in the affirmative, and delivered his reply.

"Hmm. Intriguing. To your own devices, then, Herald. Do what you wish until I summon you again."

Crikkeshh would have blinked if he had the required anatomy. As it were, the Herald simply turned once before leaving, returning to the Material Plane.

It was at that moment that Vincent collapsed. Khakom strode forward quickly, catching the god before he hit the floor. Holding him in his arms as he might a child, the Storm God turned to his father and quirked an eyebrow. His expression of confusion turned to one of frustration as the seawater dripping from his body fell upon the unconscious form of Vincent. He set the man down and stepped away, not wanting some bizzare godly form of hypothermia to inflict the god.

*Va'Tari Empire*

Crikkeshh appeared, and slowly flew towards the empire he had once held such emnity for. He now searched out the god-queen not for conversion, but for counsel. He had found new feelings welling within him. Resentment, pride, hubris...Anger. He found himself possessed by a lust for...more. More what, he did not know. Perhaps power. Perhaps respect. Perhaps Dalam, who had risen from lower than Crikkeshh to greater heights, could shed some light on this.

[Nefarion Xid]

*Celonechor: Dueling Field*

Lossethir can't help but chuckle a little at Vincent's misfortune; he is unconcerned.

"Almathea will not let our guest expire, I can assure you." To Khakom and onlookers. "Have him taken to the Palace, he only needs rest, and perhaps some peace and quiet." He waves his free hand and Helen and Phoebe transport Vincent to a lavish guestroom in the Sapphire Palace where he can recuperate.

Meanwhile, Morgan pushes her way through throngs of congratulatory sylphs and dwarves...somewhat violently. Then, when passage is denied again she gives an exasperated cry and simply vanishes in a crack of red light. She was exhausted herself and needed time to recover...and think.

[String]

Khakom adressed his father.

"So...Father...If you have nothing of more import to accomplish...I'm not busy." It was awkward, but it appeared as though the Raging Storm wanted to spend some time with his old man.

[Nefarion Xid]

He only nods.

"Morgan needs some time alone. And I suspect when she does want comfort she will seek her sisters first. Hmph...curious, I've never seen anyone fight so hard when they're clearly outmatched. A lesser being would have given up long ago. Vincent is either very much in love or very foolish...but the two are not mutually exclusive."

He removes the Cloudtool from his wrist (he wears it as a simple bangle when it's not in use) and tosses it to his son. "The weapon your father's father. Rightful possession of the god of air. You will be able to wield it masterfully. Should I ever be deposed...it will belong to you."

He shrugs off his coat and casts it aside to an attentive sylph servant. He was very seldom seen without his coat and so he made a starkly different impression with bare arms and a trim black shirt. His shoulders are exceptionally broad and his chest and arms thick like a dwarven warrior's. He strides towards the dueling field and the Godlance appears in his hand in a twinkling of blue light.

He turns and flicks his fingers twice, beckoning Khakom out to the battlefield. "Let us see if we can focus your strength and wild spirit..."

[String]

Spoiler

Show

1) What does the cloudtool do? If I use it wrong, tell me 2) I'm really sorry, but I'm just getting off the computer for the night. PM me or something and I'll get back to you tomorow if you want to plan out this in advance. 3)Oh, so that's how it is! Allright, pops!

*Celonechor*

Khakom caught the Cloudtool, and slipped it around his wrist. It immediately took the form of a grey bracer around his forearm.

"Truly a masterful object.." he muttered, as he noticed his father beckoning. Grinning broadly, Khakom shook his hair and beard out, and cracked his knuckles, assuming a wide wrestlers stance across from his father.

[Xuincherguixe]

In an instant at night, without warning, suddenly many animals vanish. Well it would not be known for many years, they were transported to a Illumina. While full of many things, there was little to react to them. A shrub cannot scream when it's on fire. And a bush cannot write a poem about the screaming bush. Though, the thought did give The Destroyer ideas. Later, perhaps something to consider.

Most of the life had been placed in places that made sense for it's kind. But some were put in terrible places Polar Bears in desert. Squid in the Jungle. Things like that.

As it knew would happen, soon Dragons began forming lairs. It told them to. Not in so many words, but it was a thing beyond words. It didn't need to use them. Not for this. Visions, Hints, and Rumors.

But Ilumina needed more. These immigrants didn't really have this place in them. At least not yet. Something more fitting should be placed here. Rising from the ground, came eggs. Like Dragon Eggs, yet different. Soon, they would hatch....

Amongst the animals it brought, were mortals. Whole Villages in fact buildings and all suddenly were somewhere they were not a moment ago. All, were it's followers. As with the others, some were placed in completely unsuitable environments. The tops of mountains, in deserts, in glaciers. Almost all of these died. The majority however were placed inside the circle of mountains, where they were protected from the cruelty of the rest of the place. This was, of course intentionally ironic. Exactly how would not be understood until later.


A pebble bumps into Asherah's hand.
"This, will be my representative. "

OOC
-2 AP create Populous(Dinosaurs)
It's a savage, brutal irrational place. Only makes sense that one can be walking around and get a face full of Stegosaurus.

[Shmee]

Sapphire Palace, Vincent

All Vincent knew was the sweet caress that uncounciousness brought to him, but upon regaining counciousness, he finds that even when he opens his eyes, the only thing he can see is complete darkness. He tries to move his hands in order to rub his eyes, but he finds that he cannot move them either.

"Whats....going on?" he mutters to himself

"Why my dear Vincent, sadly it seems that you finaly succumbed to your wounds..."

"What? When did I die?" he replies in a shocked tone

"Just kidding.... you aren't dead, your gracious hosts were kind enough to give you a bed in order to recover... if I were in thier shoes, I'd have left you exactly where you dropped."

"My, my, not feeling very merciful today aren't we my Lady?" Responds Vincent in a sarcastic tone. Giving a grunt he asks

"Why can't I see?"

"Because some fool throught it would be a good idea to pour water all over his body in the coldest place of the coldest plane in existance. Seems that fool also developed a fever, so they have placed a cold towel over your face in the hope that the fever will recede."

"Couldn't you just make me better?"

"Yes... I could..."

"........aaaaaannnnd?" Replies Vincent slowly losing his patience

"And what?"

"Why don't you?"

"Because I don't want to..." Answers Amalthea in an obvious tone

"Still crossed at me?"

"Quite..."

*Sigh* "Fine, fine. I get it, I'll go apologize to Morgan..."

"You do that and in addition to your fever and bruises, you will be missing most of your teeth" warns Amalthea.

"So what would you have me do?"

"Why, nothing of course! Stay bed-ridden while you recuperate like normal people do! Enjoy your vacation!"

"No wait!" Cries Vincent as he realizes that his Lady was done talking to him.

Frustrated at the whole situation Vincent growls to himself

"Right, to the Abyss with all this! I'll get up by the sheer power of will!"

With that he attempts to get up from his bed, but is only able to roll around untill he unceremoniously drops from his bed onto the cold floor, face first. Finding that he still can't move he mumbles to hismelf

"...then again... maybe staying in bed for now would be a better choice..."

However seeing that he cannot move his body enough to crawl back onto his bed he cries out the words he never thought he would say

".... somebody fetch me a bedpan!"

and as an after-thought

"oh yes...and help.... help I tell you!"

as he enjoyed being part of the floor decoration, not knowing that the servents had gone away when they saw him as a crazy fevered man talking to himself.

[Innis Cabal]

Dalam Tashal: Palace of Justified Hate

A page entered the power, bowing low

“My Lady, a storm….is approaching the palace…rather…different then…the standard it would seem.”

Dalam rose, taking to the air, rushing forth to meet the storm

“What god do you come here for little creature.”

Xiua’hi: Shadow of the Playground

Xiua’hi smiles slightly

“Your family is a long and varied one, Dark Child, but your elder sister’s name is Coberal, perhaps you should speak with her?”

[Maerok]

The Sunfire Hearth

Alchemical glass is now the primary 'flora' of the Sunfire Hearth. Its vast barren expanses now dotted by spiring towards of brilliant colors and wondrous design. The deeper into the territory one ventures, the more threatening the edges until the Citadel itself rises up like a gleaming urchin into the sky.

From the alchemical foundries of the province pour great billowing clouds of strange gas and the aftermath of formulations gone awry flash momentarily though almost translucent walls. It has been ages since the high priest Imak left to serve at Elimanishon's side and since then many have risen up to take his place as the spiritual leader of the Hearth. Rather than the typical claim to have met with a god, each of the candidates and many more have all been visited in dreams and hallucinations by the Bright One. His words boil over through the collective subconscious of the province and seep into the alchemical cauldrons below. Elimanishon was a god that dwelt as much within his people as in the divine realms.

With great haste, new plants and ingredients are sought out by daring fanatics hoping to provide some new creation to please the divine patron. One such exploring party came forth after disappearing for years. They spoke of a strange island and having to find to rid themselves of the strange landscape and its beasts. How they had arrived was beyond anyone's guess but they brought back with them the nectars of several strangling vines and their brilliant flowers that had reminded them of home. This crusade to unknown lands and the pilgrimage back was celebrated for an entire month.

The alchemical priests of the Sunfire Citadel began work immediately, however, and developed strange medicines and tonics that could bestow a range of effects on creatures but did nothing to inanimate objects. The plumes of smoke in the land took on a new hue, a seemingly redder hue, as these products were mass produced under the will of the Bright One.

(2 = 3 - 1 (Teach Populous - Narcotics; or poisons if Dirije has not done so yet))

[Draken]

(Elimanishon, god of being hiiigh dude?)

Illumina

New lands, new life for the Deadfather to feed upon.

A titan flew over the darkened night skyes of Illumina, a crystalline wyrm with a ghastly palor.

Orthos.

This new land was a violent place, full of mighty beings, shaped to fight, to kill.

Perfect.

The colossal deadborn dragon swept down upon the lands bellow, catching specimens on his claws, adults, infants, eggs, of all different kinds of the thundering lizards the destroyer made.

Specimens, to take to the deadlands, such powerful monsters would be useful to Eul.

The Dark Home

Hmm... Perhaps you are not useless after all... Red Light.

[String]

*Empire*

Crikkeshh growled.

"I come from no god. I come to you by my own power, for counsel. I need...more. I have an ever growing hunger, a lust, for more...power..You, who were once a mortal, now rule over this land. I, Crikkeshh, would no how you came to such power."

[Nefarion Xid]

*Celonechor*

"Well, don't just stand there. Hit me."

Lossethir calls across the field...then spins the Godlance and impales the marble slab with it. The temperature in the arena instantly drops to something intolerable to mortals (the last of the dwarf and sylph onlookers have fled by this point) and a radius of hazardous ice, like shards of broken glass creeps, out from the spear and covers the suface of the arena.

He folds his arms and simply glowers at his son.

[String]

As the shards of ice begin to cover the arena, Khakom smirks, and moves. He steps forward and leaps, the cloudtool blurring and becoming a cudgel in his hands. The Storm God roars and swings the bludgeon at his Father's skull as he falls towards the Winter Lord like a comet.

[Nefarion Xid]

Lossethir takes one step forward at the last instant, shrugs and dips slightly...stepping inside the swipe from Khakom and causing him to collide chest-first with his shoulder, then roll off a drop of water on glass.

"In ancient times, the elves had coming-of-age ritual where you would hunt a wolf with nothing to protect yourself but a spear. The key was to brace the spear on the ground and wait for the wolf to lunge...and impale himself. The lessons it not "Never take initiative" that would be foolish. The lessons is "Never commit your full strength and speed to any one strike."

Not supremely confident he could so effortlessly deflect another attack, he spins around and waves his hand...summoning up a gale blast of wind funneled towards Khakom.