Lords of Creation: A Time Forgotten IC

[Hatter]

A Day in the Life of an Ork
Orkish Childhood and Apprenticeship

Orks spend their first 10-12 months of their lives learning how to walk and how to talk along with other motor skills. They are raised by both parents with neither parent taking priority over the other.

By the age of 5, a young Orkling enters an apprenticeship with an older Ork. This apprenticeship is called a "Gogok". The path and/or trade itself is chosen by the druids through a series of examinations and star gazing. The parents then choose a teacher, the Orkling and the teacher exchange oaths of the Gogok and the Orkling begins his Gogok with his new master. However, this tradition is only present among the Southern Orks.

The Orks of Raelzun had a different way of the Gogok. The process was significantly less spiritual and instead relied on a combination of the child's natural talents and what a parent could afford. The Orkling would undergo the Gogok in mich tje same time period than the Southern Orks.

By age 10, most Orklings have learned and gained enough experience within their field and eventually leave their master, striking out on their own or take employment witj their reacj

[mystic1110]

Beyond the Norian Humps, Norian
Kaskazi Clan

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The antelopes slipped on the ice and the clan had moved much slowlier since they had crossed the mountains and hills. The cold had been bad for them, colder than a desert night the elves weren't used to deal with frostbite with such frequency. The darkest night had proved almost fatal, almost wholy cuting the clan down. Now, two wrongs make one right. Those that died both animal and elves were consumed by the clan, their meat partaken and their skins used to keep the cold at bay. They were so thinned now that they could outfit all. So garbed with the dead they advanced forward. Turning back from the unexplored wasn't breed on the free and proud.

The Kaskazi's Anghal who was the daughter from the Kaskazi's Anghal who had firstly embarked on the trip lead the march. She walked besides one of the last chariots (now repurposed as carts for the food, tools and seeds that the elves transported) and was the first to see them. The beasts were magnificent. Much bigger and stronger than the small elven antelope's the moose moved swift and sure with long legs. All the clan worked on seizing the animal and taming it. That was the Kaskazi's first moose, others would come. The clan decided to set there, at Anlorem's mountainside.

Some years later when the clan was definetively stablished Anghal Kaskazi felt the need to continue. Her chariot marched once again, and with hers came others, the most adventurous of her clan. They chariots had changed they were now pulled by strong mooses and with sharp wood sleds that allowed them to cut over the ice much faster.

Five such chariots rode up toward's the Glass Cathedral.

The Elven Chariots acquitted themselves well on the first leg on the journey up the Star's Spear, which was they have taken to calling Anlorem's mountain. After all, while they all have seen the glittering Glass Cathedral on a clear winter morning, none have had any guesses as to who or what lived there. Let alone that it itself was alive. It was merely the home of the stars in their legends - where the stars would rest during the day and emerge from at night.

As the Elves rested in their moose skin tents, the Aurora graced their sky - a portent of a auspicious journey.

But it was not a safe journey.

The next day they discovered that their Chariots would not be able to keep going as the mountain became steeper and the rocks sharper. They would have to be left behind. Another sacrifice that had to be made were the Moose - they couldn't be taken up further up the mountain, and they would not be able to make the journey home alone. And so they were butchered, and as much meat as the Elves could carry was wrapped up. The rest of the carcasses were left - quickly frozen - as an eternal memorial of this journey.

The elves had carved themselves tools to help climb the mountain - and they had woven rope to tie them together, in case one fell or was buffeted off Star's Spear.

The second leg was hard. They had to bivuoac multiple times when the blizzards closer to the peak became to strong to advance. Some of the elves undressed and died in hypothermia and delirium. Many lost fingers and toes. Others lost ears and noses. Those extremities turning black with frozen rot.

During one chasm crossing one of their party fell and dragged four other with her. Two managed to grab on to an outcropping and then make the terrible decision to cut the rope connecting them to the others and letting them fall and shatter against the rocks beyond.

Why climb the mountain? Do we need to know what that Crystal palace was? Aren't some secrets better off forever unknown? Aren't some secrets not worth their price?

But the truth was that they would have climbed this peak even without the promise of a question answered.

They would have climbed it because it was there.

The third leg of the journey was the hardest. The route that they had taken to the mountain led to to a shear ice wall. This was the side of the mountain were the wind blew hardest. Some of their party turned back and left - even though at this point to go down was to die - rather than face this wall.

Five Chariots had come to make the trip - but only five climbers remained.

They each climbed alone - and alone in their thoughts they thought of nothing but the climb, for thinking of anything else would have meant their deaths. Their loved ones, their enemies, their desires, their fears. . . . all that cut away like so much excess. There was only one thing. . . the climb.

Until they reached the top and saw the Glass Cathedral.

It stood like a star. The setting sun was completely visible behind it, and the structure seemed to glow from a light that came beneath it. They saw doors and turrets made of clear crystal ice. They walked up to it in shock, for the cold and the journey had numbed them. But they felt the embers of awe.

And then the glass doors opened and they walked inside into the empty halls.

[Razade]

Dead Contact Part2
Raelzun, Ash Lands, Norian
Al'Zarub Delegates, Banker Prince Mori and his Guards

The Banker Prince stared down at the Al'Zarub Speaker, his turban flopping a bit before he readjusted it and he finally spoke. "Good! You have some sense of Trade! Nothing is free! You can't just take without adding to the balance or you will create imbalance! Ha!"

The goblin pointed a finger at the Speaker "Bring goods! Trade! Barter! Mingle! Only then will you learn what it means to be an Ork of Raelzun!"

"This one will give knowledge for one of Brood Leader Mori's Hive for one cycle of the Bright Eye Above. Al'Zarub will then extend itself this way. Then it will come again." The Speaker offers, one of the Bone Weavers already moving to place a small cloak of woven spider silk on the ground. "Is this tolerable."

[Hatter]

"This one will give knowledge for one of Brood Leader Mori's Hive for one cycle of the Bright Eye Above. Al'Zarub will then extend itself this way. Then it will come again." The Speaker offers, one of the Bone Weavers already moving to place a small cloak of woven spider silk on the ground. "Is this tolerable."

Banker Prince Mori laughed "Not precisely what I meant but close enough!"

He held up a single finger "One cycle and no more! Any further requires that you bring more to trade, not just an entry price but you will be required to trade with the merchants and vendors within Raelzun."

[Razade]

Banker Prince Mori laughed "Not precisely what I meant but close enough!"

He held up a single finger "One cycle and no more! Any further requires that you bring more to trade, not just an entry price but you will be required to trade with the merchants and vendors within Raelzun."

"Knowledge is most important, Brood Leader Mori." The Speaker offers, a long spindly finger pointing out past the coast and off into the direction of the other continent as it's arm bent at inhuman levels. "Beyond the vast blue plane there is yet more Hives. Massive Beasts that fight in their Hive, slaying their Hive for joy. And yet another Hive like yours, the Pale Hive of Greylith ruled by Brood Leader Ramesh. This Hive glows with light not made of the land and they bend metals into shapes Brood Leader Mori's Hive has not seen. These Hives are not open to what Brood Leader Mori calls "trade."

[Hatter]

"Knowledge is most important, Brood Leader Mori." The Speaker offers, a long spindly finger pointing out past the coast and off into the direction of the other continent as it's arm bent at inhuman levels. "Beyond the vast blue plane there is yet more Hives. Massive Beasts that fight in their Hive, slaying their Hive for joy. And yet another Hive like yours, the Pale Hive of Greylith ruled by Brood Leader Ramesh. This Hive glows with light not made of the land and they bend metals into shapes Brood Leader Mori's Hive has not seen. These Hives are not open to what Brood Leader Mori calls "trade."

"To you, perhaps." said the Banker Prince "To us, Nature and it's Balance is the most important and that extends to our trade as well. I'm sure your lot, resorceful as you are can find more to trade." He grinned at them as he turned around. "Discover Trade, Al'Zarub or 1 Sun cycle is all you are getting."

"Open the gates!"

[mattsdelf]

Olohimn

Fine tuning
Silence.... the last act of creation had left Olohimn exausted. He/She could hear nothing, but his/her own breath, which now sounded like crushing waves.
Silence... until an almost unsignificant tone was heard... a sequence of notes, like a childish lullaby.
WHERE IS IT! Olohimn suddendly arose from his/her drowsiness
That voice seemed to come from nowhere.... ah! there it was. Right there, in the middle of an unpierceable darkness... a sweet, sad, voice. A Darkin female...singing. Nothing more than a simple "La...La... La...", but she was singing.
There was no darkness unpierceable for the Olohimn, nothing to be concealed from his ear, as he/she was everwhere, like the wind. He/she concentrated even more, and there she was. The darkin was holding the body of another one of her species. Dead. Probably during some kind of combat that are so welcome in their society. Next to her, a winged, diaphanous, male figure, was holding her hand. The girl could obviously not see nor touch Hostro behind her, but she could FEEL him...sharing her load... giving a purpose to her emotions... and with purpose a voice!

Far away, one of da Greenthumb Boys had aligned a row of some big fruit shells next to him. Each half shell had a leather covering, and thegreenthumb was rithmically hitting those tool and producing a captivating sound.
The other greenthumb were working in the fields cheerfully, pleased by this rythimc sound. Fathalnari was dancing in the grass, voluptuous, unseen but felt, only occasionally flying towards the drummer to correct the position of his hands and his rythm.

"... I'm not saying that our Leader is fat... he's just full of himself" The crowd in the tavern was laughing coarsely at the entrtainer's jokes. Hoth was fighting to catch his breath...and he was made of wind!
The guards of Holy Greyl broke suddendly in. "You have gone too far this time, with your hating, Dayn! you're coming with us.", They moved to snatch him, but a sudden burst of wind moved a chair, upon which the fisrt of the guards tripped, and made the other guards fall in a ridiculus domino effect.
The pople in the tavern were trying their best not to laugh, while Hoth couln't hide a satisfied smile on his invisible face.
"Hating huh?" Dayn had the time to reach a window "Hating the corrupt is a noble thing", he stated theatrically, before jumping out of reach.

The world was learning.
Maybe, the time had come to take a little step forward.
The wind of the world echoed with a call. Such a pich could be heard only by a firstborn god.
"Cereim, sister. I offer my greetings. May I have a word with you? "

Whatever Cereim was doing, she took a break.

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until I resolve with thethird what actually happened in my last post, I really don't know what she is doing. If she is with the clan, I would have her make camp for the group, and be in a private tent she summons with a spell when she hears Olohimn's call. She would then travel in the night to answer the Olohimn.

She goes to Olohimn, curious about what he/she might have called her for, and unaware of the incident in the tavern. "Olohimn! My dear sibling! What did you want to see me for? Would you care for a dance?"

[Markadelf]

After the T-Rex died, Tim and the others used their magic to have the vines transport the three they had captured all the way to the canopy where they had made their home. The T-Rexes saw their magnificent tree-forts with wooden bridges and multiple stories. The dinos were separated. "Don't look down, big guy." In fact, they had to be a dozen stories off of the ground. The speaker revealed himself to be Tim, who had come to check on Phil. With a stern expression, Tim declared, "You will fight for me. I will ride you into battle."

"Hahahaha," Phil laughed, "What a sight we'll be! I bet our foes will laugh themselves to death on the spot!"
Well, it's official. I have most certainly gone mad, Phil thought.
"You can call me Phil. What shall I call you, O' great squishy pink one?"

[Hatter]

Land and Sea
Sea of Raelzun, Ash Lands, Norian
Assistant Banker Jorgs

Jorgs was one of the larger Orks, a good bit larger than normal. He was overweight and beady-eyed, young and inexperienced.

He needed to let out some steam, so he strolled the shores of the Sea of Raelzun, skipping stones across it's surface with great big grunts.

Damned that idiot Banker Ragor. Who was he to think that he could just go ourt of his way to ensure that Jorgs could never rise up in the city's hierarchy?

Jorgs stopped to stare at hirs reflection in the water, his great big green form and massive tusks looking quite silly in the tan robes and dull turban of an Assistant Banker. He was meant for better and greater things.

[Mynxae]

Spoiler: Raxmos

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Shadow Isles
Raxmos liked his coliseum. Raxmos really liked his coliseum. So when he finally decided to investigate that shouting he heard before and found the Amphitheatre of Aptitude, he was pleasantly surprised. Hmm, not quite as colossal as my fighting arena down south, but rather nice. Wait, why did I come here again? Oh well, can't be too important, Raxmos thought as he waited excitedly for a match to start.

The Amphitheatre of Aptitude

Faelan appeared below in the Amphitheatre on a special podium that had been erected for himself and the Darkin Executor and shouted "Greetings to one and all on this most glorious night!" as the crowd of Darkin that lined the Amphitheatre cheered, some even so excited that small bursts of flame shot from their mouths. "We have a group of Darklings ready to prove their worth in society!" he roared as they filtered out of the gates on either side of the arena, some clutching rudimentary weapons, others just relying on tooth and claw. As soon as they were all inside and had spread out somewhat, the gates slammed shut behind them.

"BEGIN!"

Some of the Darklings began to roar and shriek in an attempt to intimidate their foes, while others pounced upon their adversary, tearing at them with their ferocious teeth and clawed hands, even going to the extent of breathing their inner flame to blind their enemy.

[mattsdelf]

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"Hahahaha," Phil laughed, "What a sight we'll be! I bet our foes will laugh themselves to death on the spot!"
Well, it's official. I have most certainly gone mad, Phil thought.
"You can call me Phil. What shall I call you, O' great squishy pink one?"

Tim squinted one eye, thinking to himself, Well that was easy. What an odd fellow.

"There are some who call me... Tim." said Tim, while staring very seriously at Phil. "Phil, we captured two of your komrads. Do you think they will be as willing to fight for us? Tim was very curious about how this T-Rex was socializing with its enemy. Perhaps it didn't see it that way.

[Elemental]

Illnara pondered for a moment, arms still crossed over her chest before she nodded. "Valid and acceptable. I would ask you one thing. Just talk to me first before you decide to make changes to my Children again."

"You've answered my sister's questions. Now would you be so kind as to explain yourself to me?"

"A reasonable request Honoured Sister. I will see to the concerns of the Young One now."
Namiranzul bowed respectfully as Illnara left before turning to face Karaziemia.
"I mean no offence, but your children have hardly tamed these lands. They move from place to place, taking from the Ashlands but never making a home out of it. I saw in these Orks a potential that your Elves lack. However, should you desire it, I can test them again?"


Later, on the Sun - An Uninvited Guest

From his vantage point on the Sun, Namiranzul watched the world as it grew and changed. The city of Raelzun was prosperous and rich, the Darkin were cowering behind their veil of shadow, the Sea Serpents were no concern of his and the glory of Summer had expanded. All in all, things were going well. The continent of Tixial was his next target, but that could wait. In the meantime there was a presence within his Hall.
"Dear Brother. I see you have made yourself at home. Nevertheless, allow me the courtesy of welcoming you to my Hall."

[AvocadoAvenger]

The Dreamlands: Myst

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Just for laughs

Cereim was overjoyed. "Great! Now they can use magic too! And perhaps they will find partners to dance with, and teach them their ways!" She didn't really consider how hostile the sea serpents usually are. She reached over to give Pisceanas a hug. "I've got to get going now, but I'll be sure to come visit!"

Have you ever hugged a wet, stiff piece of wood? Few have, and even fewer have hugged Piesceanas, but if anyone had ever had the odd yet distinct displeasure of having hugged both of them, they would tell you that the two experiences are quite similar. Pisceanas tensed as Cereim embraced her, and tolerated but did not return the hug. "Yes, I suppose I'll see you around," she said with obvious emphasis on the last word. Around meaning to her something along the lines of not in my lair. She didn't entirely mind Cereim, of course, she found her interesting and useful, she was just far too useful for her own good- for anyone's good, she thought. She wouldn't object if someone were to teach her a lesson, although the Sinister Mystery certainly wouldn't be the one to do it.

The Sinister Mystery had very little experience interacting with other gods, but the one time she had, it had ended with something that she found quite strange. Is that what he is expecting to happen here, Pisceanas wondered as she felt herself nearing what she knew was waking up. In an attempt to hug Morgorach goodbye, Pisceanas nearly tackled him and then stood in an embrace for a moment, not quite sure to do with her awkwardly positioned arms. This was a terrible idea, she thought to herself, or maybe whispered. Then she awoke.

Among The Stars

Nebulecron didn't like the stars. It wasn't even that he felt that it was too narrow, and that he wanted to experience endless new frontiers, it was just that this one wasn't for him. He knew it he wasn't happy as a part of the void, so he decided to leave it all behind, even the Archonic Congress to which he owed so much. He knew that if they ever called on him, he wold answer, but he wasn't going to serve them now without being happy himself. And so, he packed his horn and his best fitting clothing and took off. Nebulecron traveled the stars for some time before finding The Firstworld, saying a prayer for his luck, and then plummeting through the atmosphere into the ocean with his wings folded. In truth, the only place he really could have found was The Firstworld, and plummeting into the ocean was a likely outcome as it occupies much of the world's surface area.

The Bottom of the Ocean: The Mantle Throne

When Pisceanas awoke, she sat down, and the floor of the ocean rose to make her a suitable chair. This throne of mantle formed near the deepest trench in the ocean where she could watch the Sea Serpents. Her subjects gathered around her when they saw she had returned. She smiled, "Magnar," she said, addressing one of the most large and ancient Sea Serpents she saw gathered before her, "what news do you have to report from while I was gone?"

Magnar nodded and replied, "well, we had a day of darkness and a message from the god who made it so that it would be so monthly."

The Sinister Mystery looked inquisitive "Hm," she said, "I will have to thank him. This night and day cycle was such a bad idea, I'm glad someone has the salt to oppose it." Of course, she had no idea other than what was hear in the voice. "Anything else?"

"Erm, yes, one more thing. We found a strange creature in the ocean. He says he is from the stars and he looks nothing like anything we have seen before. He has wings and a great trumpet and he says he wishes to stay here."

Pisceanas frowned, "Surely he is just a new kind of dragon, or a..." she did not want to believe this, "A magical trick? Why did you not simply eat him outright?"

Magnar felt threatened and now tried to appease her and recover. "Yes, my queen, there was much talk, and perhaps we should have, but... He seems to share the same love for the sea that we have. We thought you should decide."

Pisceanas grinned again. "Very well. Take him with you on a few raids, see if he deserves our trust, but don't let him out of your sight. And don't hesitate to eat him. Tell him that his new queen demands his loyalty if he wishes to stay."

"Very well," Magnar said, and the Serpents swam away in search of prey and sport. And so it was decided that Nebulecron would join Pisceanas and the Sea Serpents and rediscover himself, at least for a short while.

Coast of Raelzun

After a short time, Jorgs began to hear a beautiful song coming from behind some rocks down the coast. It sounded like the voice of a young woman with a woodwind accompaniment; however, the song had scarcely started before it stopped. "Is someone there?" a voice called out. Then, two voices worth of feminine giggling could be heard from the spot where the singing was coming from.

Georgiana decided to spend the afternoon making music with her elder sister, Jeyne. They were both Merwoman youth of 15 and 17. They were both bare-chested, but Georgiana wore her goldenrod hair to her waist and lose, and her sister typically wore a necklace with fishbones strung from it. Many of these fishbones could be used as flutes, which she used to accompany Georgiana's singing. Jeyne had darker hair and wore it short, but she had the kind of face to not make that kind of haircut look altogether bad. The pair had only started their first song when Georgiana heard a rock splash into the water, so she stopped the song and called out. "Maybe it's a maan," Jeyne whispered to her sister, teasingly, then they both laughed girlishly.

[Razade]

"To you, perhaps." said the Banker Prince "To us, Nature and it's Balance is the most important and that extends to our trade as well. I'm sure your lot, resorceful as you are can find more to trade." He grinned at them as he turned around. "Discover Trade, Al'Zarub or 1 Sun cycle is all you are getting."

"Open the gates!"

The Dead say nothing, scuttling into the city. They abide by their day long grant though by morning as close to an approximation of a Goblin Building can be seen off into the hazey distance of the Ash Lands.


The Dead Return
[The City of Greylith]

On the second Shadowed Day the Dead return to the City Walls of Greylith, in much greater numbers than before though only the lone Speech Weaver walked with their larger mass of Bone Weavers. However unlike before they did not come empty handed, instead each of the spiderlike undead carried a large sack far larger than even a regular human. They stand in silence as before though make no move to further ascend the wall.

[Hatter]

Coast of Raelzun, Ash Lands, Norian
Assisstant Banker Jorgs, Jeyne, Georgiana

Jorgs followed the sound of the giggling, sounded like Elves. Ork girls didn't have that laugh, they snorted or in the case of the smaller Goblin Orks, they almost sounded like they were shrieking.

He rounded the corner and he stood dumbfounded. "Wha' in Da Mudda?" He muttered as he stood transfixed upon the sight, 2 girls whom almost looked like the elves but also looked like....fish?

He had heard the bedtime stories about the fish people like every other Orkling in Raelzun has but this? What's this? They are supposed to be a myth!

[AvocadoAvenger]

Coast of Raelzun

Georgiana twirled her hair on her finger and smiled, giggling lightly. She wasn't expecting to see Jorgs, either, though not as much as he wasn't expecting to see them.

"Don't act like you've never seen a Merwoman before," Jeyne said, making playful fun of his dumbfounded expression. "You know I bet we're practically neighbors."

[Hatter]

Coast of Raelzun

Georgiana twirled her hair on her finger and smiled, giggling lightly. She wasn't expecting to see Jorgs, either, though not as much as he wasn't expecting to see them.

"Don't act like you've never seen a Merwoman before," Jeyne said, making playful fun of his dumbfounded expression. "You know I bet we're practically neighbors."

"Huh? Neighbah? How joo gonna be Jorgs' neighbah? Jorg not living in sea. Sea be havin' big snakes dat don' like Orks." He grunted, still largely unable to remove his eyes from the merwomen. He could not understand why. They were even uglier than the elves but why then was he drawn to them? Were they using magic? Couldn't be... Could it?

[AvocadoAvenger]

"Huh? Neighbah? How joo gonna be Jorgs' neighbah? Jorg not living in sea. Sea be havin' big snakes dat don' like Orks." He grunted, still largely unable to remove his eyes from the merwomen. He could not understand why. They were even uglier than the elves but why then was he drawn to them? Were they using magic? Couldn't be... Could it?

The girls looked at each other, then back at him. "No, silly, of course you don't live in the sea, I think you'd know if you did," Jeyne said, "but we don't live with snakes that get to be all that big in the Sea of Raelzun." "None that I've ever seen, anyways," Georgiana chimed in. "And snakes aren't smart, besides. I've never known them to attack one creature over another."

Georgiana, feeling his gaze, folded her arms across her chest, leaned back against the nearby rock, and gave him a look. "Are you looking a something?"

[SpeedWitch]

On the second Shadowed Day the Dead return to the City Walls of Greylith, in much greater numbers than before though only the lone Speech Weaver walked with their larger mass of Bone Weavers. However unlike before they did not come empty handed, instead each of the spiderlike undead carried a large sack far larger than even a regular human. They stand in silence as before though make no move to further ascend the wall.

The Dead Return
[The City of Greylith]

This time, the city was ready for the dark. Large blazes of fire were lit all across the city, especially along the walls, and glowstone lay under every bridge and gate. Even the Godsword helped with the lighting, reflecting the glow of the city onto itself. Guards were patrolling the streets in larger numbers, and several mirrors have been placed along the walls to assist as spotlights in case of an attack at night. The strange stars moving through the night sky were a huge boon as well, even if they scared citizens a little bit. As a final precaution, torches were lit all along the road leading into the farms and wilds below, most abandoned for the double-night by those who counted themselves with Greylith.

And yet the Bone Weavers weren't spotted until they were merely two-hundred feet away.

The Captain of the Wall Guard took out his Rex-horn and blew. Citizens fled back to their homes, and soldiers rushed to the gates clearing a path for their king in the crowded city streets (accidentally knocking a guard over, who released the grip of a criminal he had encountered and shouted "Damn you, Dayn!"). Once the weavers came into view, the Captain addressed them, praying backup would arrive quickly, and that the light would be good enough for the ballistas aim.

"Hold, Weavers! You stand once more before Greylith, in aggressively large numbers, and on the cursed Day of Darkness, in which no one is allowed entry. What is the reason for this intrusion?"

[Razade]

The Dead Return
[The City of Greylith]

The Speaker stops with a much more articulated bow than before, seeming much more alive and spry as it motions for one of the many Bone Weavers to step forward where it upends the bag in a shower of bright gems mostly covered in rock yet some still twinkled from the city's firelight and the light of the Archons that glimmered above. "This one comes to speak with Brood Leader Ramesh. It wishes to trade. It was not aware that the night caused this reaction, it will not forget. It will wait until the Bright Eye returns. Here."

[Messy Lamaniera]

The Waking World, The Sun

Later, on the Sun - An Uninvited Guest

From his vantage point on the Sun, Namiranzul watched the world as it grew and changed. The city of Raelzun was prosperous and rich, the Darkin were cowering behind their veil of shadow, the Sea Serpents were no concern of his and the glory of Summer had expanded. All in all, things were going well. The continent of Tixial was his next target, but that could wait. In the meantime there was a presence within his Hall.
"Dear Brother. I see you have made yourself at home. Nevertheless, allow me the courtesy of welcoming you to my Hall."

Out of the illuminated blindness of the sun's surface came a kaleidoscopic figure. Morgorach smiled at his brother's honest impatience. He spoke not with his voice, for it was too loud even besides the roaring furnace of the sun.

The voice came from a dreamed star so small it fit snugly into Morgorach's hand. "I found many of these. Small, stunted things that are the dreams of creatures that have never seen the sun or don't dare look directly at it. All they ever want to be, these small poor things, is to be just like your sun, brother."

The dream god handed out the small fragile thing to Namiranzul. It felt like dying embers, burning bright but not as bright as they could burn. "Careful" it said in his gargantuan fiery hands "It breaks easily."

Inside the minuscule star Namiranzul also saw a world without a sun, without stars. A world filled with mockeries and mimicries, but hardly the real deal. "It is a sad truth that people hardly dream of the sun as the sun should be; imperious, oppressive and ever present. They think of it as a natural annoyance and do not feel the adequate gratitude towards its presence. Even on the Darkest Day, all they do is hang up nightlights... Is that alright with you, brother? The greatest creation beside ourselves is misrepresented and underappreciated in the eyes of mortals."

"Of course, there is a smooth solution to this complicated problem. That's why I am here. Would you care for it?"

[SpeedWitch]

The Speaker stops with a much more articulated bow than before, seeming much more alive and spry as it motions for one of the many Bone Weavers to step forward where it upends the bag in a shower of bright gems mostly covered in rock yet some still twinkled from the city's firelight and the light of the Archons that glimmered above. "This one comes to speak with Brood Leader Ramesh. It wishes to trade. It was not aware that the night caused this reaction, it will not forget. It will wait until the Bright Eye returns. Here."

The Dead Return
[The City of Greylith]

Many guards were nervous as such a striking force, and the Captain of the Guard nearly called down an attack twice, but after Ramesh called for peace, things settled down. Well, settled down in that the Captain was no longer shouting at the undead like a starving T-rex during mating season.

"This is exactingly why you were demoted, Jakov," the king remarked as he passed him behind the gates.

Once the rim of the sun had started peeking over the horizon, the gates were momentarily opened, and the king appeared, followed by the royal guard. Two chairs and a table were set up halfway under the gate wall, with the king sitting in the shadows, gazing out at the rows and rows of spiderlike creatures before him.

The Captain of the Guard walked out from behind the king and steeped near the Weavers. "You may approach and discus. Just. You." He pointed to the Speech Weaver. A cough came behind him from the king, and Jakov sighed. "And at least two others... we observed your reliance on your, ahh, group, in the past."

"Or asked a loony king and his priests..." Jakov mumbled, waiting for the Weaver to approach.

[Chas Kramer]

Olohin

Fine Tuning

Whatever Cereim was doing, she took a break.

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until I resolve with thethird what actually happened in my last post, I really don't know what she is doing. If she is with the clan, I would have her make camp for the group, and be in a private tent she summons with a spell when she hears Olohimn's call. She would then travel in the night to answer the Olohimn.

She goes to Olohimn, curious about what he/she might have called her for, and unaware of the incident in the tavern. "Olohimn! My dear sibling! What did you want to see me for? Would you care for a dance?"

Spoiler: Gaming times OOC

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I'll post, but I'll gladly wait for your other storylines to resolve, bevore you can take decisions related to this one

As an answer to Cereim's question, a diaphanous shape started fading in, out of thin air. A moment later, a beautiful man, with delicate, almost femele traits, appeared in front of her sister. He was holding a lyre in his left hand, his eyes were sparkling with intelligence and power. Olohimn was rarely taking physical form, but when he/she did, he/she appeared to his/her interlocutor as an inspiring figure.

Without even speaking, Olohimn started playng a joyful, catchy tune to dance to. Well...it was no common melody...it was the meaning itself of cheerfulness. It was just a sequence of notes out of a single string instrument, but it seemed to give its listeners an insight, on how a woman in love should feel while dancing in a summer rain with her beloved one.
To think he'd learned this one from a mortal!

With his/her surprise, Olohimn saw that his/her sister was a more than fair dancer! She didn't even seem to be dancing alone. She was...waltzing with reality!
They had a lot of fun together.

After complimenting his/her sister, with a satisfied smile still on his/her face, Olohimn decided to waste Cereim's time no longer.
You have listened a piece of the Song, sister, as it is interpreted by mortals. Now, allow me to show you something.
Politely, Olohimn put his/her hend on his/her sister's shoulder, as he/she accompanied her consciousness to see some some important things in the world.

A goblin shaman wannabe, drunk as a drunk can be, was trying to impress his drinking companions with feats of magic. Nothing more than sparks were coming out of his hands, not enough to impress anyone but enough to painfully burn his own hands. His frustration grew, as the other goblins were, like, laughing themselves to death by making fun at him. Until he tapped into his emotions, and used them to fuel magic power. Arcane words came out of his mouth as poetry (...in the sense of goblin, of course..). Magic consumed him in a burst of flame, leaving behind nothing but charred bones. A puzzled expression on the other golbins' faces... "well, tha be impressive!"


A female ork of da greenthumb clan was singing at the plants she was growing, because she loved her so much. As a matter of fact, her plants were growing so luxuriant! They were flourishing more and more, the more she sang at them. The other orks were considering her a little bit "touch", beacuse she sang at things and seemd to care more about her plants than about her tribe-pals. But what did she care? She couldn't help it. Songs just came out of her mouth. She isolated herself more and more, and her plants grew higher and higher...until her house one day was simply overwhelmed by vegetation. No one saw her again...someone thought that she actually "merged" in her plants, alive.


See that? I have given the mortals the gift of art and music, but it's a gift they cannot always control. It can consume them. And it does it even more when they are attuned to your gift, sister. For my power is the stuff of emotions, and yours is where art and science converge.
The spark of curiosity was in Olohimn's smiling eyes... a little creepy, actually.
Think what it could be achieved if we worked together. Let's give the mortals a way to attune to magic via art and songs. Let's conecntrate and sort out this consuming force into gifted individuals, so that it doesn't run wild into the world and consume its wielders.
It will not be magic, nor art...it will be something new. People will be able to sense the emotions of the world, and pour down theirs ito reality. They will be able to change the course of weather and rally armies to victory with a song of theirs.... what do you say?

[Razade]

The Dead Return
[The City of Greylith]

Many guards were nervous as such a striking force, and the Captain of the Guard nearly called down an attack twice, but after Ramesh called for peace, things settled down. Well, settled down in that the Captain was no longer shouting at the undead like a starving T-rex during mating season.

"This is exactingly why you were demoted, Jakov," the king remarked as he passed him behind the gates.

Once the rim of the sun had started peeking over the horizon, the gates were momentarily opened, and the king appeared, followed by the royal guard. Two chairs and a table were set up halfway under the gate wall, with the king sitting in the shadows, gazing out at the rows and rows of spiderlike creatures before him.

The Captain of the Guard walked out from behind the king and steeped near the Weavers. "You may approach and discus. Just. You." He pointed to the Speech Weaver. A cough came behind him from the king, and Jakov sighed. "And at least two others... we observed your reliance on your, ahh, group, in the past."

"Or asked a loony king and his priests..." Jakov mumbled, waiting for the Weaver to approach.

The Undead make no move even if struck should anything be tossed over the side, merely standing motionless and silent as they said they would. At dawn the entire group move to stare at the gate as it turns, the Speaker moving though the rest remain behind. "This one does not understand." it motions to the Guard Captain. "There is only Al'Anzur. It is only a mouth and those ones are only hands. Does it understand? Does that one wish to see Al'Anzur?" it asks, tilting it's head slightly as a few flower petals drift from a seam in it's neck. "Al'Anzur has learned that the living do not do things for free. It has no need for these." The Speech Weaver offers up a crudely dug out hunk of geode. "But the Living does. Al'Anzur has many of these things and more. Does Brood Leader Ramesh want them."

[SpeedWitch]

The Undead make no move even if struck should anything be tossed over the side, merely standing motionless and silent as they said they would. At dawn the entire group move to stare at the gate as it turns, the Speaker moving though the rest remain behind. "This one does not understand." it motions to the Guard Captain. "There is only Al'Anzur. It is only a mouth and those ones are only hands. Does it understand? Does that one wish to see Al'Anzur?" it asks, tilting it's head slightly as a few flower petals drift from a seam in it's neck. "Al'Anzur has learned that the living do not do things for free. It has no need for these." The Speech Weaver offers up a crudely dug out hunk of geode. "But the Living does. Al'Anzur has many of these things and more. Does Brood Leader Ramesh want them."

The Dead Return
[The City of Greylith]

Jakov spent a moment trying to sputter out a response before the sound of wood sliding along stone was cut across the winds of the early morning. King Ramesh walked out from under the wall, passed the captain and stood in front of the Speaker. The guards watched from a distance, as well as two figures dressed in dark chainmail, their faces concealed by black cloth.

The king looked weary. Bags had grown under his eyes and new age-lines on his face and hands had appeared. His hair was greyer than steel, and when he blinked, a hollow stare flashed against the dawn like iron in the sun.

He raised his hand and took the geode from the Weaver's grasp, examining it. "What a curious little gemstone," he said. "Very pretty. Let's talk business. What do you call this? Where can it be found? What value do you expect us to derive from it? And what do you expect in return?"

The questions were thrown off one right after the other, in quick succesion. The king locked eyes with the weaver, then looked back at the gem, chuckling. "Sorry, perhaps I was too fast. I'm just so exited to see a friend..." His eyes shined red in the light of the gemstone. "I can restate that slower, if you like."

[Hatter]

The girls looked at each other, then back at him. "No, silly, of course you don't live in the sea, I think you'd know if you did," Jeyne said, "but we don't live with snakes that get to be all that big in the Sea of Raelzun." "None that I've ever seen, anyways," Georgiana chimed in. "And snakes aren't smart, besides. I've never known them to attack one creature over another."

Georgiana, feeling his gaze, folded her arms across her chest, leaned back against the nearby rock, and gave him a look. "Are you looking a something?"

"Jorgs be lookin' at joor's bodies." said the young Ork in a very blunt manner, subtlety definitely wasn't the Ork way. "Joo be... differnt from Ork girls."

He continued to stare at the curiosity and confusion in his beady little red eyes more than anything else.

[thethird]

"A reasonable request Honoured Sister. I will see to the concerns of the Young One now."
Namiranzul bowed respectfully as Illnara left before turning to face Karaziemia.
"I mean no offence, but your children have hardly tamed these lands. They move from place to place, taking from the Ashlands but never making a home out of it. I saw in these Orks a potential that your Elves lack. However, should you desire it, I can test them again?"

"So your secret test of character was to not move? To stay put? In one place? And you reward the winner with prisons of stone and high walls around them? Really?"

She looks quite baffled as she hadn't even considered that a sane thought.

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The Elven Chariots acquitted themselves well on the first leg on the journey up the Star's Spear, which was they have taken to calling Anlorem's mountain. After all, while they all have seen the glittering Glass Cathedral on a clear winter morning, none have had any guesses as to who or what lived there. Let alone that it itself was alive. It was merely the home of the stars in their legends - where the stars would rest during the day and emerge from at night.

As the Elves rested in their moose skin tents, the Aurora graced their sky - a portent of a auspicious journey.

But it was not a safe journey.

The next day they discovered that their Chariots would not be able to keep going as the mountain became steeper and the rocks sharper. They would have to be left behind. Another sacrifice that had to be made were the Moose - they couldn't be taken up further up the mountain, and they would not be able to make the journey home alone. And so they were butchered, and as much meat as the Elves could carry was wrapped up. The rest of the carcasses were left - quickly frozen - as an eternal memorial of this journey.

The elves had carved themselves tools to help climb the mountain - and they had woven rope to tie them together, in case one fell or was buffeted off Star's Spear.

The second leg was hard. They had to bivuoac multiple times when the blizzards closer to the peak became to strong to advance. Some of the elves undressed and died in hypothermia and delirium. Many lost fingers and toes. Others lost ears and noses. Those extremities turning black with frozen rot.

During one chasm crossing one of their party fell and dragged four other with her. Two managed to grab on to an outcropping and then make the terrible decision to cut the rope connecting them to the others and letting them fall and shatter against the rocks beyond.

Why climb the mountain? Do we need to know what that Crystal palace was? Aren't some secrets better off forever unknown? Aren't some secrets not worth their price?

But the truth was that they would have climbed this peak even without the promise of a question answered.

They would have climbed it because it was there.

The third leg of the journey was the hardest. The route that they had taken to the mountain led to to a shear ice wall. This was the side of the mountain were the wind blew hardest. Some of their party turned back and left - even though at this point to go down was to die - rather than face this wall.

Five Chariots had come to make the trip - but only five climbers remained.

They each climbed alone - and alone in their thoughts they thought of nothing but the climb, for thinking of anything else would have meant their deaths. Their loved ones, their enemies, their desires, their fears. . . . all that cut away like so much excess. There was only one thing. . . the climb.

Until they reached the top and saw the Glass Cathedral.

It stood like a star. The setting sun was completely visible behind it, and the structure seemed to glow from a light that came beneath it. They saw doors and turrets made of clear crystal ice. They walked up to it in shock, for the cold and the journey had numbed them. But they felt the embers of awe.

And then the glass doors opened and they walked inside into the empty halls.

Anlorem, Glass Cathedral
Kaskazi Clan

The elves were broken and yet some more but they still stood. As the old saying went: "climb the mountain just a little bit to test that it's a mountain. From the top of the mountain, you cannot see the mountain." They had climbed too far. There was no mountain left. No cumber to crown. And for what? Many had fallen. Mighty had fallen. The chariots were broken, gone. The moose were just frozen waste so far from the carion beasts that they would remain for ages. So too were twice their number in elves. Five remained. And not even those where whole. Anghal Kaskazi had led her people to the mountain top. Their graves would have views.

But there was still some more to discover. Another place to reach. The Cathedral was magnificent, imposing, terrible. To the elves just another sight to behold. Anghal Kaskazi was little more than a skeleton wearing layers and layers of skin, the first elven skin her own, the second layer elven skin not her own but soft and warming, the third layer was moose her moose, the fourth layer was also moose but not her own. She had lost much, in men, beasts and equipment. She had also lost, little by comparison, her left hand's little finger, also half her left hand's ring finger, most of the skin in her lips, and her right foot was frozen into the boot. She had refused to cut it out, knowing full well that she wouldn't be able to make the climb with only one leg. She wouldn't be able to go down with it. At least if she tried to keep gravity from taking her toll rapidly. Not that it did matter much, if gravity's pull took her cold wouldn't let her go easily, she would freeze before crashing. That image, herself turn to icicles and then snowy dust, somehow made her limp forward.

The other four elves followed in different levels of death.

The Cathedral was real, tangible, somehow the elves had expected it to be a feverish dream of their own doing. A figment of their minds fleeting reality. They touched the structure relishing on the wall's solidity even as it bit their fingers with deadening cold. What is deadness to the numb?

The elven female, at one point it had been fair to call her a maiden now it would be either vile or bile, hobbled into the cathedral's antchambers. Her uneven steps drawing shorter as strenght feeleted her. She had reached the destination, at long last. Would she be allowed to stop? Perhaps some rest?

She fell. First she stood akwardly on one knee, her mind fighting to comprehend why her body had made a craking sound and not a thumping one. Then she was on both knees her arms pushed forward as to keep a semblance of balance. She crawled upon herself. Her body broken and beaten. Sleep, rest, die, it didn't matter to her flesh, just stop!

She looked down, she looked through the icey floor. Deep into the world. There was fire and flame there, yellows and reds mingling and mixing, an autumn's palette hiding under the flaming blue. But there was another thing. A thing that caught her eye. Something that made her cry frozen tears that bit hard on her checks. Something that made her remember, elves do not stop. Elves do move. It was a primeval concept. A core part of her. It was her essence. And it was what she was when she was alone in the dark with no one to see. Now in the dessert darkness it was what lit her.

She looked down, at what had reminded her of her essence. Of her being. It was a wheel, a circle, not unlike the one's the matron goddess had taught them. It wasn't alone with many other's coiling with them. As she herself wasn't alone, the other elves giving her support on their bodies. It was smiling showing teeth in many dented cogs. As now she was, bright white teeth in her mouth ready to bite down anything that might come.

Thus smiling the elves followed the cogs and gears in the floor, going deeper within the cathedral.

[Markadelf]

Spoiler: Last Time on Raxmos and Pals

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Tim squinted one eye, thinking to himself, Well that was easy. What an odd fellow.

"There are some who call me... Tim." said Tim, while staring very seriously at Phil. "Phil, we captured two of your komrads. Do you think they will be as willing to fight for us? Tim was very curious about how this T-Rex was socializing with its enemy. Perhaps it didn't see it that way.

The Amphitheatre of Aptitude

Faelan appeared below in the Amphitheatre on a special podium that had been erected for himself and the Darkin Executor and shouted "Greetings to one and all on this most glorious night!" as the crowd of Darkin that lined the Amphitheatre cheered, some even so excited that small bursts of flame shot from their mouths. "We have a group of Darklings ready to prove their worth in society!" he roared as they filtered out of the gates on either side of the arena, some clutching rudimentary weapons, others just relying on tooth and claw. As soon as they were all inside and had spread out somewhat, the gates slammed shut behind them.

"BEGIN!"

Some of the Darklings began to roar and shriek in an attempt to intimidate their foes, while others pounced upon their adversary, tearing at them with their ferocious teeth and clawed hands, even going to the extent of breathing their inner flame to blind their enemy.

The Tree Fort
Phil laughed, "Comrades? Comrades?! Haahahahaahaha. You know nothing, of us Tim! We have no comrades! Only fellow hunters, each one only wanting to steal the kill for himself. As for compliance, it really depends on whether or not they are part of the faction that thinks you squishy pink ones are all weaklings that cannot hope to defend themselves. Some of us are stupid like that. Others are like me, only wanting to fight. I honestly couldn't give a damn who I fight. It's just that fighting gives me a fuzzy, warm feeling in my soul. A few actually have vastly different views, but I never really paid attention to them. They always said things like, 'Raxmos is mad! He created us just to watch us drown! We should kill Raxmos! There are giant sea serpents in the ocean!' ya know crazy talk." Phil stopped, "Well, that last one might be credible. A few good rexes have said the same thing. I just haven't ever seen one myself; I'm a little bit skeptical of such claims."

The Amphitheatre of Aptitude
Raxmos watched the combat happily, This is pretty good. I wonder how T-Rax would do against these guys. The other T-Rexes prolly wouldn't stand a chance, but that T-Rax is a resourceful fellow. Hmmmm. Raxmos spoke, "Who is responsible for this glorious arena? I've taken a liking to it and would like to know who I should thank for this fabulous entertainment."

[mystic1110]

Thus smiling the elves followed the cogs and gears in the floor, going deeper within the cathedral.

All too often we treat Truth as a metaphysical construct. As an idea. That is unfortunate. For here on the top of the world is Truth. Solid and real.

And as the elves descended into the Cathedral the walls spoke to them. Telling them its truths.

Welcome to my halls Survivors. You have endured and you have grown strong.

They walked down endless staircases made of crystal ice, as if they were walking on nothing. Gears were behind the walls, and they circled seemingly endlessly into the tower. Down, down, down after climbing so high. It did not get colder, for it could not get colder. This was Winter. It seemed that Winter was all they ever known.

You have learned that Existence is Meaningless without Want. Want and Desire are all there are. But you know the Truth of those emotions. You know the Truth of emotion. That emotion is a meaningless illusion. A paradox. Meaning is derived from that which is Meaningless.

The Survivors felt their minds turn white - white as if scoured by snow. They didn't feel pain or disdain. They didn't even feel a need to survive anymore - there was no need to endure. Even their awe was slowly eroded away. There was no need for anything. Nothing. And in that blank winter of their minds they found peace.

Peace and the Cathedrals truth.

For a brief moment they had the ability to see through lies and see how the world really is. In COLD MONETARY LOGIC. Everything had a price. Everything had worth. No meaning, but a cost.

And then their emotions returned - for a mortal to think like this on their own power would require years of meditation and austerity.

You could learn.

Did they truly want to forfeit what they knew was just a meaningless illusion? There was comfort in their emotion. Their was comfort in them because it connected them to mortality. But the endless serene peace of a Winter's Mind spoke to them.

For a price.

But was it worth it?

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AP 9

AP 1: Create Class: Monks! I will expand on what these monks can do and what they think later (and if thethird has them pay the price that will be discussed) but suffice to say that their beliefs are a combination of Zen Buddhism and Capitalism.

[Markadelf]

Tixial right before Raxmos went to the Shadow Isles
Hmmmm, life here is getting pretty boring. I need to add something to spice up the jungle, Raxmos thought for a moment, I've got it!

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Start AP: 7
Create basic life: Juresh: -1
End AP: 6

The Juresh are big spiders. Females grow to be at most six feet in diameter. Males only grow to be about five feet in diameter. They grow to be about two feet and a half tall. They spin strong webs, have deadly poison and can jump about ten to fifteen feet forward. They are good climbers and make trees their home. They usually just sit in their webs waiting to eat whatever might get trapped, but hungry Juresh have been known to jump their prey and stick their fangs in. Their poison takes longer to effect large targets. The poison will slowly exhaust a victim until they finally fall asleep and never wake up. The process takes about a day to effect humans and about a week to effect T-Rexes. The poison flows through blood. A juresh will usually keep its web within a 15-foot cube of space. Any larger would be impossible for one Juresh to maintain. The webs are tough enough to hold humans, but they can be cut with proper applications of strength and a bladed tool. That said, take heed! For when one finds a juresh web a juresh is never far. They suck fluids out of their victims for sustenance and are immune to their own poison. If one makes the mistake of sleeping near a juresh's web he will likely be poisoned and tied up by morning. Juresh tend to build webs near each other, but do not share webs. Like some other breeds of spider, the mother eats the father after the act that results in the production offspring.