Lords of Creation in the Playground (IC2)

[Toxic Mind]

The Ocean - Fleet of Ulvin Siverblade, Puck and Sarra

As Ulvin's massive ships make their way across the ocean towards Krenko-Ka, it is not long after they lose sight of land that they spot the strange ships. They are far off, and their sails are unlike those of the fleet, as these new ships seems to have sails made of leaves. For a moment, the captains may have thought them an attack fleet from the goblins, but the crying of casters quickly give lie to that.

The crew is almost entirely human, save for a few elves, who wear furs and cloaks and carry staves, as well as one creature that looks like a dryad, yet half of its body is a carved skeleton, and the other a living dryad.

The lead ship approaches quickly. "Hail, sailors of Eldarond." says Puck as means of greeting. "You sail a mighty fleet across Orphaned King waters. For what purpose have you sent this war machine?"

[thethird]

Avalon, Eldarond - Wedding Reception/Aftermath

Ur shakes his head. The creature was inherently magical then, all artifacts where, but of course pointing that out might be linked to an insult.

"You misconceive magic, being lazy isn't inherent to magic. I've seen too many phisicians resort to the leaches and no more, even when they kill patient after patient. I once saw a judge who wouldn't even hear the accusate. Isn't that also laziness? They didn't have a mote of magic in them, even if you squeezed them hard. On the other hand I've seen magicians work like laborious ants. Now if you want a place to settle I don't fault you. If you don't want to fight I don't fault you. But you are at a wedding, at a party and celebration. You were attacked as a guest to such event. And the first thing you do is talk about looting, lands and retribution? To your hosts whose wedding was interrupted by their city being bombarded? While calling them lazy good for nothing not worth to fight besides? Creature I follow the god of commerce and prosperity, but you are over stretching it."

Ur listens to the conversation between the godess and the avatar and thoroughly decides to miss the part in which the twins took some of those seeds planting them later along the trees in the Bahosian forest.

Ocean

Four massive stingrays made of wraithwood fly above the boats. They are hard to see from the distance but their body appears to be made from polished wood that takes several metallic shades. From their surface spike several cannons made of the same material. Several smaller similar creatures flock around the giant contraptions and one like this falls to the floor on the Eldarond's flagship. It folds it's wings forward perching on the ships sail. Atop it's wings there are two big black seeds marking it's allegiance. The creature isn't defenseless, other than a powerful sting it has two guns potruding from the wings midsection and a threatening mandible. It's back unfolds like a blossoming flower and a voidgrel emerges from it. He is garbed in the formal void navy uniform, slightly wrinkled after the travel, and carries a copper rod.

The voidgrel jumps from the stingray to the ropes tied to the ship's sail and masterfully descends to the floor.

"Who is the captain of the ship?"

His common is perfect, it sounds finely human, perhaps if others couldn't see him he would have been taken for one. His guise though gave him away. He was wearing tight high boots, along with loose pantalons in dark blue, along with a white short sleeved shirt and a dark blue vest holding his chest tight. His scalp was plaited, only a string of hair in the middle, white as the first snow whiter even than his pale skin. His head was tattoed two pictographic representations of stingrays nesting over his temples.

As the voidgrel speaks another stingray playfully falls towards the living ship in front of them. This one though doesn't perch at the sail but stops besides the ship's head. The voidgrel that comes out is garbed like the other, but this one is a young female, her hair is only shaved at one side, giving her an asimetrical look, she bears tattoes too but hers are on the lower jaw, an unfolded stingray covers up to her lower lip.

She carefully pats the ship head, and caresses it. Then stepping into the ship she bows to those present, and speaks first in common and then in elvish, both masterfully spoken, bearing the same question and extending a coppery wraithwood rod.

[Toxic Mind]

Ocean - Voidgrel Ships, Puck, Eldarond Fleet

Puck steps forward, though he cannot contain the surprise at seeing the strange stingray creatures. "I am the captain of this ship, and by my strength and cunning, the leader of this fleet." He gestures behind him to the ships that stay a fair distance back from Puck's. He takes the rod.

[thethird]

Ocean - Voidgrel Ships, Puck, Eldarond Fleet

The rod you are holding is a comunication device. It allows you and I to speak directly. And once whoever is captaining the fellow fleet he, or she, too can join the mental conversation.

The voice hits Puck directly on his head, it is hard to tell that it is not his own inner voice. The voice feels old, really old, slightly tired and amused.

It's a pleasure to make you acquitance. And I'm glad there are still living ships around. I used to trade with your kind alot on my younger times. But I digress... Old people tend to do that I've been told. Now I'll remain silent and let you on the waters do the talking, after all this in't exactly my war.

[Toxic Mind]

Ocean - Voidgrel Ships, Puck, Eldarond Fleet

"Mine either, friend. But we are no fool, and a weapon capable of causing such devastation concerns us all." It might seem odd, but even within his mind, Puck seems utterly comfortable with mind-mind contact, in a way that no human should be.

[Shmee]

Krenko-Ka

There is a great commotion amongst the Goblins of Krenko-Ka. Following their several failed attempts before they were able to finally strike against the divine wedding, an announcement was made that the Trinity would address the worried people of Krenko-Ka regarding the recent events. A grand stage was erected within the overcrowded city, as Goblins begin to gather.

Suddenly a barrage of fireworks and explosions mark the arrival of the Trinity. Naturally several Goblins are killed or hurt, but its all acceptable considering that their great leaders where making an appearance.

"GREETINGS MY INSIGNIFICANT PEONS!" screams Skreechy "Now some of you might have heard some rumors that we authorized the use of Divine weapons of mass destruction against the pathetic godlings and their humans. WELL THE RUMORS ARE TRUE! MWHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!" cackles the insane Goblin as several in the crowd begin to imitate him as well "FURTHERMORE! They are so foolish that they returned our ambassador unharmed along with their insignificant declaration of war INSTEAD OF KILLING HIM THUS LOSING THE OPPORTUNITY OF A SURPRISE ATTACK! SERIOUSLY PEONS HOW ARE WE EXPECTED to LOSE TO THESE FOOLISH FOOLS OF A FOOL?" screams Skreechy to the people. Naturally his arguments made sense.

"NOW THEN! We are to prepare for war! HAVE FAITH PEONS! WE HAVE A PLAN THAT WILL TEACH THEM NOT TO MESS WITH US! HISTORY IS ON OUR SIDE! WE WILL BURY THEM!" declares Skreechy making clear that the Goblins of Krenko-Ka would meet the Humans and their allies head on.

As the Trinity walks way, Skreechy whispers to the other two "Have a rocket ready... just in case...."

================================================== ==========

Kryokoli, Temple of the Cosmic Mother

The goddess of Winter is still busy talking to the Aspect of Tiamat.

"So then daughter of Ignus, what is this important matter which you wish to discuss?" Asks the aspect.

"Allow me to ask this question first: What is the purpose of the goddess of Creation?"

The Aspect seems surprised "Any Cleric could answer this question." it snaps "She is old as Creation itself, formed by the Original Creator to save him from the clutches of Zalsaram."

"And what happened after that?" replies Kryokoli without missing a beat.

"Together with the Visionary, our Mother defeated Zalsaram, chained him for eternity. Now he is dead, and the Playground which you stand upon is safe."

"Dead? Are you absolutely sure about that?" is the goddess of Winter's answer.

"What are you talking about? Enough with the questions, get to the point." says the Aspect, narrowing its eyes at Kryokoli.

"It would seem that the gods of Creation and Destruction have been caught unawares, for right under their noses several gods plan to resurrect my Grandfather. In fact, they have already taken the first steps to do so. For you see, my so called 'father' is far more foolish than my mother, and wagged his loose tongue as he confided his secret and that he and those of the Pantheon of the Moon intend to resurrect this dead god. They have formed an alliance and have kept it a secret from everyone... until now. For they were foolish enough to trust me to join their cult. If I had the ability to laugh, I'd be doing so, for the irony is great. My 'father' made me who I am today, yet he believed that we could share some form bond based off of kinship. Therefore if he wishes to be my 'father' then he too must suffer the consequences of his choices, as I intend to pour upon him the exact same scorn I have shown my mother. I want him to experience betrayal from someone he trusted... but not any betrayal... the cruelest one of all, that of family."

The Aspect is now clearly agitated "Do you even realize the implications of what you are suggesting?" it hisses "It would be your word against all the gods of the Moon."

Kryokoli nods her head "Did you know I got married? A Human came stumbling at my doorstep, his leg was frostbitten. I had him cut it off in return for marrying a goddess. Now then, there were times that my Human would claim that he still feels his missing leg. Almost like its still there."

The goddess of Winter opens her mantle, showing her chest to the Aspect "Just like that, sometimes I think I still feel my heart..." she says as she digs her fingers into the scar "... which was stolen to me as a joke by my 'father'..." she begins to pull until her chest is wide open, her heart missing from where it should be "... which is being used to resurrect my grandfather. Sometimes I still believe it is within me. Even so, it may be separated from me, but it still a part of me." she says as she puts her hand where her heart should be. Then she squeezes.

As Kryokoli squeezes, her heart beats. Just a single beat that resonates amongst all the other sounds of the Playground and reaches the Void.

*Badump*

Spoiler

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AP6 + 1 Bonus=7
7=6-1: Pestilence Beat of Zalsaram. Kryokoli/Zaslaram's heart can now be heard beating by those who are listening for it.

The Cosmic Mother, the Void

The goddess of Creation continued her slumber. Deep within her consciousness she knew well that her time on this world was coming at an end. Yet it did not bother her, for she had served her purpose. Even when she would be gone, she had installed her children to watch over the Playground and guide it. She was not sad, for soon she would be able to seek her One Child, the one who had created her and whom she had let down. The Cosmic Mother was consent to depart from this world quietly, while sleeping and with as little as attention drawn to the event as possible. It would be for the better of the Playground that way.

*Badump*

The sound of Zalsaram's heartbeat travels through the Void it reaches the Cosmic Mother's ears. No... this was wrong. Zalsaram was supposed to be dead. Yet that sound... she had heard it before while she battled him during the birth of Creation. This is wrong... Zalsaram is no longer of this world. Yet even in her sleep the sound was unmistakably his. No... this is so wrong... Zalsaram is alive once more!

Her eyes snap open from aeons of sleep, in shock and horror as the Cosmic Mother first looks towards the Playground. Even while she slept, the Visionary surely would have dealt with any threat that her Children where unable to handle. Her gaze turns to the Visionary. To her horror she sees the Visionary in a ruined state. The Children were rebelling, and now the Cosmic Mother was awake.

It would fall to her to make things right once more.

Spoiler

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Use Oussia Charge: Summer on the Playground
Use Phos Charge: Winter on the Underplayground.

[Durmatagno]

Spoiler

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Realm of Dreams Rosian, Xelnirov, Simdred

A big bulky man emerges from the forest, he is wearing an armor not unlike the one worn by Simdred but his is dark blue, so dark to almost be black, he lacks the spidery ornaments at his back instead carrying furs and scales. The pelts are in many colors and give him an outlandish appearance. His face is uncovered, except for a black devilish mempo, and his head is bald as an egg sporting some scars with pride. In his hands there is a weapon, much simpler than the one carried by Simdred lacking a visor or any other complement. The gun though has seen good use, and is enveloped in fine black fur. He moves, every step taken carefully like a hunter approaching a wounded prey, a beast that may lash at any moment.

Sestra. He nods towards Simdred still keeping her eyes on Rosian. You vouch?

Simdred raises an eyebrow, looks at Xelnirov and Rosian alternatively and finally nods.

Say it. No trickery.

Yes brother, I vouch for Rosian.

Good enough. He turns towards Rosian and examines him warily. Will you share camp and break fast?

Godsfought - Bobby, Ur, Grim

Ur holds one of his guns on one hand in the other he carries the jarred brain. He nods towards Bobby and signals what appears to be an entrance to the mazelike tomb.

The Visionary - Eucle, Ask

Eucle shrugs the gods dying stertors his rusty armour whistling with intensity upon taking the laser's hit. He stands there upon the falling god and walks. He moves towards the place where his daughter was kept. The walls and gates holding her are destroyed with his touch, rusted away into dust. When he sees her he lets his anger be overcome by sorrow. Ask has been fully turned into metal. Changed by the Visionary's touch. She stands there immobile, with her hands raised towards him and a troubled smirk on her face. His daughter is gone.

He touches her and under his touch she is turned to dusty rust. Carefully he collects it encasing the redish substance on an hourglass he crafts from the Visionary's still uncorrored flesh. He studies the new contraption and makes it turn, time rippling as he does, he smiles there is still some of her daughter's unconcerned disorder in the thing. As the hourglass turns for a fleeting moment he stands in front of his daughter, the memory so vivid and real.

He walks away and stands where he impaled the god with the spear. He knows that once he pulls the fulcrum the Visionary's demise would be definitve. He does so. The spear is now chromed straight and shining. He levels it with his eye and looks through it's line. It beholds the promises of what is to come, sharing some of the Visionary's vision.

And so armed he let's the rest of the debris fall. He stands on the void for an instant. He tiredly smiles at his brother. Then he says.

"Hear me old fiend. Hear me well. You will never again attack me, my family or my creations. You will make sure to keep yourself out of my sight."

That said with gun, spear, hammer and tetsubo he goes to the judgement throne.

The Judgement Throne - Kethneciel, Ignus, Eucle

Eucle drops tiredly the hammer in front of him. Holding it still against the ground.

"I've just seen one of my daughter's die. Patience won't be my forte. Now. Ignus. You want the hammer. Good. Listen. Kethneciel's son is trapped by your daughter's hand. And you hold means and keys to free him. Help me help you do the right thing and take responsability for what your child has done. Do that and I'll believe you beyond what put you in the state that required the hammer to be taken. Don't do that and I won't believe you are worthy of it."

Spoiler

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Eucle 1 AP + 10 AP + 2 PAP
3 AP Create Battle Artifact: Hourglass of Time, at the hourglass turning the wielder can relieve the past. Eucle does this to gain better insight on others and to relieve those that have departed.
3 AP Create Battle Artifact: Spear of Entropy, the spear carries some of the Visionary's and Eucle's power being made of solidifed laser, bismuth, wraithwood, chrome and more importantly time. Those hit by the spear are sent to the future.

5 AP 2 PAP remaining

Realm of Dreams Rosian, Xelnirov, Simdred

"Breakfast sounds great, don't think I've actually eaten anything at all yet."

Rosian said, studying Xelnirov with an inexperienced, but keen eye. He wasn't so sure about Xelnirov, seemed a little....off, though Rosian couldn't quite put his finger on it. Shrugging it off mentally, he stretches, and continues to study the daemon before him, gleaming what he could from the thing.

[Hatter]

Ocean - Eldarond Fleet, Puck, Voidgrel Ships

Admiral LeVille recieved the communication rod and held it up. "I am Admiral LeVille of the Eldarond Fleet. A warm greeting to you, Orphaned Kings. We wish no tresspass through your waters. We go to war against Krenko-Ka in response to their attack against Eldarond and her Divine Monarchy."

Admiral LeVille stepped forward, leaning against the rails of his ship, his uniform white, pressed and orderly with many medals upon his chest and a large blue hat which bore the Eldarond Crest, a single prancing white horse. "We will have justice. Not simply for Eldarond but for Humanity. Will you join with us in coordination against the creatures which would insult Humanity?"

Krenko-Ka - Kerx, Goblin Engineers

The engineers within Krenko-Ka worked tirelessly against time as they struggled to prepare all manner of firearms and zepplins in response to the oncoming fleet.

Kerx walked among them with a long list, barking orders and directing goblins to where they needed to go. The goblins lacked any kind of order and that was a beautiful thing but it would be their downfall if left unchecked.

Instead, Kerx pulled on his master's power and blessed the goblins with skill and competence that allowed them to create and to repair better and faster. Those Chaotic souls not only managed to create and man an impressive fleet of Zepplins but also managed to develop light-weight and extremely durable armor and shields that would protect the goblins against common weapons.

Spoiler: Ahn Actions

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-1PAP Goblin (Better Goblins)Teach Populace, Mithril Armor.

-1Charge Dog-Stick, Nourishment, Chaotic Productivity - Those goblins of a Chaotic Alignment are blessed with a +2 bonus to any craft checks.

[Hatter]

Southern Eldarond - Knights of Silver, Shoglings

Word was first brought to the attention of the local baron by word of hunters who reported word of giant monsters roaming the lands late at night, devouring almost everything in sight.

The baron first sent scouts to scout out his lands and upon discovering that there were indeed such monsters, the scouts reported back and the baron did immediately contact the local Knights of Silver garrison.

In less than an hour from the time of notification, a unit of Knights were dispatched. Great and powerful mechs, designed to appear as silvery knights with powerful longswords and moved as if they were not machines at all but instead, armored giants. 30 such Knights were dispatched and they quickly located the Shoglings.

The Knights of Silver stood still and then upon a loudspeaker, a voice can be heard. "Creatures of Shog. You are in violation of the Borders of Eldarond and the immigration laws set forth by Ulvin Silverblade himself. You are not welcomed here. Submit and be peacefully deported from Eldarond Territory. Resist and force will be used against you."

[smashingBrawler]

The Grack - Vaguely near the center of Craast territory

The Grack shot in from the sky like a meteorite, but made no crater, slowing itself before landing. It looked around for what was near. Foreign things it did not recognize or understand. It waited like a statue for something or someone brave or foolish enough to approach.

Clora - The Void

More turbulence down in the world. This time, perhaps slightly too close to a few too many of Clora's favoured. she called Althia to bring Lum'ohs back to the Skeletons of the the forests. Cho'zak would rule the undead of the cold lands. Clora determined a course of action. The Vampiric creatures were likely to find in their own ranks a leader, if unable to find one among Clora's splinter. The others - the deathless, however, were moderately different. Clora required Althia to watch over all of her children, and so the deathless would be neglected more than the undead they were supposed to balance. The deathless clearly required an envoy of sorts - something to properly introduce them to the world.

Clora looked within herself. The voices became more prominent - the messy combination of souls and corpses was most visible when she allowed the others to become vocal. Her outward form began to change from shape to shape, bending and wrenching in ways far more unnatural than the god's standard form. She searched within. It took no time, and yet all time to find the soul for which Clora searched. She pulled it forth from the others, and held the light of the new shard in her hand. She sent the ball of light to the world, and as it descended towards Avalon, it began to take shape. First, red and golden armour that was broken and corroded in many places, followed by a matching shield and a blade. Finally, the body began to fill the space. A fleshy skeleton that would stand eye to eye with mortals, and that would lead the Deathless for eternity. He would simply be know as The Swordsman. Deathless warriors began to marshal towards the likely landing site - though causing as little trouble and aiding as many as possible along the way.

Finally, Clora aided the undead of Stoixia by creating a giant bone structure, a citadel. The four corners had towers which each took the form of a spine, stretching up and bending slightly, between each a solid layer of bone. Hard, frozen flesh filled any would-be empty spaces.

Spoiler: Clora AP

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Initial AP: [1]
AP Gain: [+5]
AP Expenditure:
Create Avatar [-3] - The Swordsman. The Swordsman exists to lead and fight for the deathless, and also to make them strong. As he begins to descend upon the land, many deathless are beginning to congregate to the general vicinity of Avalon.
Mold Land [-1] - The Citadel of Cho'zak as described above. Exists somewhere in frozen Stoixia, likely to the south east of the Palace.
Remaining AP: [2]
Utility Artifact Usages:
Nourishment (ToRL) - The Tendrils show the deathless the way to The Swordsman - whenever a deathless approaches a tendril, it points towards the Swordsman. (To the best of its ability, if the guy is underground or in the underplayground, it won't start digging)

Kealoharen - The Void

Kealoharen wished for a place for those who did not want such fighting - such confrontation. Marble began to rise in the center of the part of the world that Kealoharen knew. Very carefully. Kealoharen also dotted the Marble with orbs of light, so that none would fall victim in the darkness - but made the light not too bright, so that none would be harmed by it either. The marble was very open to the outside world from it's entrance, and spun inwards to its center. At the center, Kealoharen focused their divine energy. Someone would have to guide the people Kealoharen hoped would come to live in peace and harmony. Kealoharen decided that the best choice would be a pair of those who had joy - Kealoharen hoped others would see their joy, and find it as well.

And so, Kealoharen created The Joyous Duet. Two people, distinctly in the form of aasimar, though of otherwise indistinct origin. The genders of the two would change and be traded throughout time, though at their inception they were indistinct in their genders. The only facts of their personas were that they found joy within each other and, time allowing, that they would strive to find joy in everyone they would meet.

Unnoticed by Kealoharen, the peace token reacted to the turmoil elsewhere in the world, protecting those who did and intended no harm from the fallout of the altercations.

Spoiler: Kealoharen AP

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Initial AP: [0]
AP Gain: [+5]
AP Expenditure:
Create Avatar [-3] - The Joyous Duet. The Joyous duet take the form of two aasimar - though never staying exactly the same. They walk and talk with jubilation, and show kindness to those they meet. They are welcoming, smiley, and soft to the eyes and touch.
Mold Land [-1] - Halfway between Dawnwatch and Lake Kealo (which just east of the dark grove), Kealoharen has carefully created a city - making sure to damage nothing in it's raising. The city is a spiral made of shining marble, and is covered in glowing orbs of rosy light.
Remaining AP: [1]
Utility Artifact Usages:
Nourishment (Peace Token) - The Peace Token glows in response to the violence brewing elsewhere in the land. Those who wish and do no harm to others in these times find themselves protected from the indirect effects of the recent explosions (like radiation), as well as the oncoming... likely altercations.

[Gunhaven]

The Kixian Horde - Craast Dominus
The Kix entered a stalemate of evolution. When Xirmr'z cast its ring upon the Playground the Kix were slowed enough to be pushed back to the forest of northern Demiourgia. When H'vooz shined down and empowered the Kix while burning those who weren't photosynthetic they surged back and washed against the mountains that served as a barrier to the Dominus. As the battle dragged on the Kix grew stronger, relishing in the test of constant battle.

The Kixian Horde - The Complex(?)
Even amongst such teamwork there was conflict. The Kixian home was the ruins of Purity after all and the largest concentration of the fungoid orcs was still there, in the forest and hills. Thus it was little surprise that a horde of the pollen spewing monsters marched upon the budding community with chants of conquest in the orcish tongue. Walls served as distractions against their fists as the mass was directed to those who would be most likely to stop them in their trip.

The Kixian Horde - Parnetia
The Kingdom of Parnetia suffered the worst in the second wave of Kix. With the kingdom already in disarray due to a breakdown in relationships with their neighbors there was no one to stop the mass of warriors from crushing the village. The humans and huglins of the kingdom did what they could but it soon became clear that they couldn't hold back the ruthless horde and as the kingdom fell the remaining survivors fled by boat to Eldarond to start anew in a new land that they could be ignored by the land at large.

The Kixian Horde - Surface Neutral Ground
Normally the Bay wouldn't be affected by some minor squabble. Yet for some reason the trade relationships that the Rix Maadi had spent so long erecting became strained to nearly the breaking point. During the first day the Kix managed to crush the defenses at the wall while the Aram napped in the shade, outside the hateful gaze of the dual Suns. When H'vooz set they were able to stall the Kix long enough to find a solution to their problems. In the span of those precious twelve hours the warehouses of goods disappeared from Surface Neutral Grounds.
When the Kix surged forth again they found the city largely deserted. Northern Demiourgia would fall under the reign of Purity once more, under a different guise as the Kix began to breed within their conquests. Yet the Rix Maadi still served their clients; the hidden city of Iu'etten finally being the hub of trade it was meant to be. To insure that the follies of fragile bodies wouldn't be a problem any longer all trade was transferred to banks of brains in jars as they expertly transferred products directly to their destinations instead of depending on archaic technologies.

The Island - Lustria
The settlement remained busy, the monks and paladins keeping the populace pacified. The priest meanwhile moved through the streets, the subtle pull of the Thrallherders insuring the population remained passive as they finally ventured outside the walls and into the jungle proper. For a day they remained outside before they returned with the source of the roaring: a herd of beasts that they called the Tyrant Lizard and a nest of eggs. From this somewhat humble beginning the true power of Lustria could be felt as former mech riders tamed the Tyrannosaurus rex and claimed them as their paladin and ranger mounts.

Spoiler: AP

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Grenzo: 1; Chaos, Cultist, Divinities, Sin PAP; Cauldron, MIC Charge
Cauldron: The Rix Maadi no longer depend on fleshy bodies to do trade, using brains to expertly insure that products get to their proper destination.

Lustria: 7
5=7-2: Create Organization "The Priest of Lustria" with associated prestige class Psychic Theurge. The Priests are Telepaths/Clerics that maintain the tyranny of Lustria and the order that the peons need to not kill each other.
3=5-2: Create Organization "The Tyrant Knights" with associated prestige class Jungle Rider. The Knights serve as the military arm of Lustria as they maintain order outside the Ziggurat.
Jungle Rider is based on Halfling Outrider from Complete Warrior with following changes:
Patron: Lustria
Base Attack Bonus: +5.
Skills: Listen: 3 ranks, Ride 6 ranks, Spot 3 ranks
Feats: Devoted Tracker, Mounted Combat

Hlo: 3; Moon PAP

[Zelphas]

The Grack - Vaguely near the center of Craast territory

The Grack shot in from the sky like a meteorite, but made no crater, slowing itself before landing. It looked around for what was near. Foreign things it did not recognize or understand. It waited like a statue for something or someone brave or foolish enough to approach.

Before long, four Craast Brutes come to the sight of the Grack's descent, followed by a single Craast Maker. Two of the hulking Brutes stop approximately one hundred feet from the Grack, watching the avatar with brooding interest that could edge over to violence at any time. The other two Brutes flank the Maker, coming within speaking distance of the Grack before halting.

The diminuitive Maker peers at the Grack, its four arms twitching curiously. <"It is not one of the Brood, does not look like any other I have heard of before... Brute! Speak to Gradle. Tell him to inform Defends Homeland that Quortalhal may wish to observe this new being in our lands,"> it chitters in Craast. One of the Brutes that hung back bows deeply before turning and loping away.

"Friend...or foe?" the Maker says in oddly accented, halting Common, seeming to barely understand the words it is speaking.

[Hamste]

Southern Eldarond - Knights of Silver, Shoglings
The Shogling that seems to be bigger than the rest and drooling quite profusely answers back in the clicking tongue of the Shoglings.
What you say? Krix does not speak language. Krix only speak Shogling language. Shogling do you speak it? You understand Krix? Krix says in the Shogling language.DO...YOU...UNDERSTAND...KRIX? Krix yells talking in slow loud clicks as if by speaking slowly and loudly the knights would be able to understand better.

The rest of the group of Shoglings start grouping around to watch. It is an oddly orderly affair, the smaller drone Shoglings in the front with the larger warriors in the back just a few steps behind their leader. It allowed them all to look at at the knights and it served as a formation if this was a declaration of war. None of them seem to be understanding a word the knight is saying.

Spoiler

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When you say armored giants how large do you mean? Are they bigger than the Shoglings in the mechs if so how much bigger? Also it is safe to assume these guys are not magic users? The leader of the camp is one of the 4 mutated Shoglings (The one that got more charismatic plus powerful build but lost some intelligence bringing it down to 3 (it had dumped its int even before that))

So for reference what level do you put these guys at? I'm never sure how high class levels are supposed to be for "elite" troops. The drone Shoglings are probably that but one level lower and the warrior Shoglings just have a static 5 Aberration HD except maybe Krix who may have a level or 2 in forsaker. Until I submit another form of Forsaker I'm just going to use the 3.0 version.

Even if your characters do understand Shogling through magic or machine, Krix will still go through that spiel even if they try to interrupt.

[Toxic Mind]

The Undying Forest - Pernieth

The Cycle. A concept almost as old as the Elder gods themselves, yet so misunderstood by the mortals of the world. All the gods had their hands in death, whether it was the death of those not believing in them, preserving the lives of those who did, or preventing death from claiming souls at all. All of them took part in the Cycle, but few cared for it, none saw the wheels in motion, the need for balance. The Cosmic Mother, Clora, Pernieth.

The Cosmic Mother was life incarnate, and so watched over the birth of the Cycle, even through her slumber. Clora was unlife, endless existence. She was outside the cycle, and thus watched for its balance, that it's destruction might not also be her own. And Pernieth, by necessity, would be the end of the Cycle, the dying. Through brutal competition within Nature itself, he promoted the balancing of life and death.

Pernieth wraps this new aspect around himself, and his leg becomes withered, though it does not pain him, to reflect his new aspect. He looks to the stars, and sees the first stirrings of the Cosmic Mother.

For the first time in existence, Pernieth wastes a word. "Oh." He says. There are few indeed who remember when last the heaven's shuddered. Pernieth looks to Cassandra battling. He would need to deal with both. The Cosmic Mother would have to wait. Pernieth would hope that for now her hand would be stayed against the mortal realm.

The Fleet

"The people of Eldarond have ever been fair to us, and offered us safe harbor when we needed it. We will join you. If you have one who could speak for Eldarond, my wife would meet with them. She would speak to her sisters on their behalf, if their cause aligns." Puck turns his ship to fall in next to the lead, and extends a living gangplank over if one would join him. Either way, his ships fall in with those of Eldarond.

To the Voidgrel, he salutes with the rod of wood. Your turn he thinks cheerily.

---------------------

Flashback: Sarra and Mowillic (spelling?)

Sarra looks at the other within her mind. "The storm protects us from the pain. My people died. I felt their pain, their destruction. I cannot feel such again."

Spoiler

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7=10-3: Gain Domain: Death
5=7-2: Gain Portfolio: The Cycle
Raise AP 15-> 16 [Using Above Actions]

Pernieth is now a Greater God

[cubedancer]

The Ravenwood

When Reshy finally woke the next morning he felt as if an over-enthusiastic mech was beating its way out from inside his skull. He rolled from his bunk only to find that standing invited a legion of mechs to dutifully pound inside his head. He groaned. His tongue felt like grit, his legs were made of squishy plastic tubing and the rest of him was as stiff as rusted gears from sleeping in his leathers. As he made his slow, careful way towards the goblin's mess, however, he made a discovery that shook the weariness from his limbs, though his head continued to throb. His money pouch was missing.

Reshy found Skarz later once they had clocked off for the day. "How're you doing?" He asked.

"Awake, thought the foreman was going to feed me to the blast furnace, the time I turned up," Skarz gave a grin. "How's your head?"

"Maddening," Reshy, paused to sneeze, "got the mother of all hangovers and now I think I caught a chill from the storm last night."

"Yeah, the ol' juice wasn't even doing it for me today." Reshy thought of the black, inky substance the goblins had named "wake-up juice" and considered how much easier the day would have been if he had been able to afford some.

"You know," he began, sheepishly, "I could've sworn I had my money pouch with me when I got back to my bunk last night."

"Yeah, well, you were totally gone, so I thought I'd better take it."

"So you stole my pouch?" Reshy was bewildered, then angry, then his previous resentment returned, with a vengeance.

"Anyone could've taken it from you, you were drunk!" Skarz was protesting, "I'm your mate, I didn't want you to get robbed!"

"So you robbed me instead! You're always sticking your long, ugly nose in Skarz, always making me look weak and dumb!"

"You don't need me to look weak and dumb!" Skarz retorted, filled with sudden fury. "Take the gods-damned pouch, you probably don't even remember how much gold you had in it!" He flung the pouch towards Reshy so hard the bag hit the floor and split, gold coins scattering around the room.

"Lousy thief!" Reshy swung a fist at Skarz. Skarz ducked the punch and barreled into Reshy, knocking him to the floor. For a while they struggled and pummeled, raw hatred rushing through their veins. Then Skarz gained the upper hand, giving the smaller goblin a shove that had his head smash against the wall. Reshy slumped to the ground like a sack of tubers. Skarz, stepped back.

"What?" He was trembling. "Reshy?" He shook his friend by the shoulder but his head fell forward and would not rise. Blood pooled from a gash at the back of his head. "Damn it!" The goblin cursed. "Reshy!" He ran from the room.

Spoiler

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Mark Chosen (Reshy) 0 AP

[Holy-hunter]

Events of the past will always transgress on to affect those of the future. Regardless of reason you will never escape your actions. Never.
-'Valask Noir'-

While the events that had transpired should please the god of hatred, the assassin attempts nothing in half measures. Nothing left to chance.
From the start he favoured neither of the creatures, in fact hated them both with an equal deep disgust.
However Valask was after all also the god of vengeance, and a dead goblin could seek no revenge.

A silent prayer see's the dying creatures shadow leave its host and swirl into the shape of an eerie jesters mask.
Slowly, in a silent suspense the cold eerie darkness creeps it's way across the goblins face.

The assassin had the teachings to ensure the creatures body would survive, but this was a test to see if he had the will, the driving force, the desire for retribution, to carry on.

The ominous shadow mask upon the goblins face spoke silently to the assassin in heavy volumes that others would never understand, and in them the goblins fate was decided.

The goblin is suddenly carelessly hefted from his spot on the ground by the follower of Valask Noir, seemingly appearing from nowhere only to disappearing again taking the goblin with him.

---------

The injured goblin will awaken later, more of the god of hatred and vengeance's blood will have seeped into his own. The wound will be treated with undetectable means.
His shadow will be where it belongs and act accordingly. (Mostly)
But to add insult to his injury he will awaken buried and disposed of in the depths of a soiling pit. His last vision was Skars, and in his unconscious state, from the dark reaches of his memory, shadowy tendrils reach out in his mind toying with him as they replay every derogatory glance, wayward word or demeaning action that Skars ever played against him. Inventing them if they must.


Now the assassins work was done. The goblin would be left to his own accord. However, he would always be a little more then he was before, but also a little less.

The assassins god was the god of hatred, that was true, but for those that aren't as close to their own hatred as the assassin is, they imagine wrongly and offer him blood-fuelled rampages of aggression and torture as offerings.
While these may amuse him slightly, his true pleasure comes from his own manifestation of hatred which was that of cold calculated, well thought out and timed vengeance.

[thethird]

Ocean - Eldarond Fleet, Puck, Voidgrel Ships

Whoever is atop the Voidgrel ships, at the other end of the telepathic answers.

"The Ilargia Herri aren't humanity. We aren't human. But you can count on our aid. At least for now."

The stingrays keep going, flying atop the gathered fleet, while the two voidgrel that made the descent to the ships stand there arms crossed and looking around.

Realm of Dreams Rosian, Xelnirov, Simdred

Xelnirov leads his guests to a nearby cave. He carefully disarms to cable traps before entering and once inside whistles till light springs in front of him. Manouvering the source of light he leads the fellow daemon and god deeper inside. The cave forks and he takes a left, eventually leading them to a larger area where he lits a fire. There are several handcrafted wooden racks and hangers holding dry leaves and wildgame. At one corner there is the undistinguishable marks of a extinguished fire which is soon relit under Xelnirov's crafty attentions. He is using little to no magic, using flint and steel to light the home. He puts a kettle, that laid nearby, to it and pours some water from a skin flask along some herbs in it. Then satisfied he goes for some of the animals hanging and takes a rabit, which he begins to skin with his own hands.

Sit. Talk. Share.

Upon hearing the last word Simdred coils, hugging herself and more importantly her purse, as if protecting something. Her brother raises an eyebrow at her, the fire enhancing his daemonic appearance.

What's the problem sister?

Xelnirov stands and reaches towards her. He extends her hands as to get to the bag she is carrying and pulls hard taking it from her.

Give it back!

He doesn't seem to care he just fondles the bag and finally takes a bottle. Rainbow trapped inside it shimmering with prismatic hues. It holds power. Divine power that smells of dreams.

This is good prize sister, where you got it?

Simdred doesn't respond, she shudders. She whispers something to low to hear. Xelnirov uncorks the bottle with his tooth Ahn's smell filling the cave as he does.

You take god's dreams now sister?

Xelnirov sniffs the bottle and considers taking a sip. All his time he has wanted that. To take a god's dream for himself. To strengthen himself. To become more than he was. But alas this wasn't to be his dream. This wasn't a dream of unparalleled strength. And if he needed to compete with the upstart who had devoured the courage god whole he would need something stronger.

He turned towards Rosian

Where she got it?

[Hatter]

Ocean - Eldarond Fleet, Puck, Voidgrel Ships

Admiral LeVille nodded at his aide, Lieutenant Angel and the Lieutenant immediatetely walk across the plank.

Lieutenant Angel was a middle aged woman in the same type of uniform that the Admiral and the rest of the fleet wore. She was muscular and hardened but still bore a smile upon her face and a rapier hung from her waist. "Lieutenant Angel reporting in. It is suggested that we utilize a flanking manuever to lock the Krenko-Ka in a vice grip and teard them to shreds, sir." She addressed Puck as she would address any commanding officer.

Southern Demiourgia - Knights of Silver, Shoglings

Sitting in his cockpot, Captain Rocker never had any illusion of a peaceful resolution with these creatures, that would be too easy and the life of a Knight-Pilot was never an easy affair. He had heard the reports of the strange insect like creatures that offered aid to Eldarond in exchange for torture and destruction and that they were rejected and left, offended. To assume that they were here on peaceful terms was foolish. He grabbed hold of his controls and pulled a few levers.

"Alright boys, let's get em! For Eldarond! For the God-King!" The mechs moved into action, 18 feet tall of metal reaching out with great swords and charged into the Shoglings.

Blade and claw clashed together in a frenzy, knights lashed out against insect and the battle commenced.

It wasnt a long battle, nor was it fancy. Five of the Knight Mechs were destroyed and shattered but the Knights prevailed. Great pikes were erected and the insectoid bodies of the Shoglings were impaled upon the coastline as a warning against any future assaults upon Eldarond soil.

[Holy-hunter]

The Mad house

"SHOG!" Valask jr screams at the warrior, clutching his face with his over sized dangling sleeves.
His cold unchanging masks presses against Shogs skin as it's empty eyes stare into his.

"Oh my, did you see that!? There all dead" the little jesters exclaims. But his concern is soon washed away by a childish giggle as he rocks back on his spot.

"Why didn't you protect them? You have to go hurt the humans now" he says matter-of-factly.



"I want a suit of their armour! I'm gonna go get me one." he mumbles to himself while his bells jingle as he nods in agreement with his own words.

[cubedancer]

Equinox

Within the vast confines of the Point, Pyre reflected on the three who had played a game of chance one stormy night, only to experience the alteration of their fates in dramatic and unexpected ways, proving that from even the simplest of actions risk arose and change was wrought and even the least expected of figures could become significant. Had the strange, shadowy assassin not plied their trade and killed one of the creatures on that fateful night she might not have cast another glance at them.

Pyre turned her gaze upon the mortals amassing for battle and watched their ships sway in the currents of the ocean and the stingray-like vehicles gliding majestically above them. She saw the coming destruction of the Shoglings and thought to offer her aid to the strange, stubborn creatures. She saw only one way she might give them a chance. Time flowed at a spirited tempo upon her plane and she had intervened in the life of one apparently insignificant creature, perhaps the lives of the Shogs also deserved consideration.

Southern Demiourgia The beachhead

So it happened to be that some Shoglings were not all alike, though all Shoglings were alike. Some Shogs could sense the enemy more efficiently, more effectively than others and were capable of signalling the other Shogs to fight more efficiently, more effectively and the Shogs knew this, though they were not entirely sure how. In their own fashion, they loved these proto-leaders and looked up to them. It was still unlikely that the human mecha would falter against them, but there was a chance something could come of it.

Spoiler

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Create Sub-race - Shogling Alpha
8 = 9 - 1

[Hamste]

The Mad house

Why Shog have to act? Those shoglings realized the risk and it failed. If Shog aids them how is Shog any different then magical users? Shog could go on a rampage eating humans and calling curses down but Shog would make Shoglings weak and dependent on Shog. If the gods of those people start messing with Shoglings too much, Shog will fix it but Shog will not aid Shoglings and Shoglings not want Shog to aid Shoglings. The Shogling's enemies have to see hard work pays off if Shog ever wishes for them to give up their magic...or Shoglings kill them all. Either way work for Shog. Or Shoglings enemies win and Shog not sure Shoglings do then. Shog sure it is interesting at least. Shog says.

The Hub
The Alpha Shoglings are immediately rushed off to the queens to start breeding them in a larger mass. They wouldn't make it for the first wave of attacks but the second attack will include them once the queens are done breeding them into the groups. That wave would also probably include some other new additions to their troops that they have been working on.

Spoiler

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More Shoglings will be attacking in a bit but I figure I will wait until the fleet gets to the Goblins as it takes time for the Shoglings to get ready.

If it is all the same to you, I had them at the hub not the beach head as they wouldn't actually do anything if they came into being and then immediately died with out the chance to breed.

[Rainshine]

Realm of Dreams

They had heard that others were finding a murky way -- not the darkness feared, but clouds between them and their visions. For those that strode the colored ways though, for those that followed the Lady of Dreams, who might yet behold the eye; for them, it was as it ever was.


The Grand Circle

For all the travelling their kind did, Halflings were generally welcome around the fey; they were lovers of music and story, respectful, and paid homage to an aspect of the same goddess that the fey did. It was not uncommon for one to stay in the camp of another along the road. But that was there.
And this was a different place, a different time. This was a Grand Circle. Thousands gathered, satyr and minotaur and centaur, girron and all the rest, even the unicorns from their groves. Which was definitely one reason it was so unusual to see two figures, one short, one tall, neither horned striding out of the woods. The entire area was laced with alarms and illusions, but they seemed unphased, and no alarms had sounded. Grunts and snuffles came from the crowd as several of the fey worked their way towards the outside.
They were closer, now, close enough to see. Several fey had broken off from the circle, making their way out a little to intercept the approaching strangers. The short one resolved into the figure of a halfling woman, brown hair cascading down over her shoulders. Her clothes were a bit dusty and worn, but still retained the color that they were originally made with. A red and blue tasseled skirt, with waves of different shades of green creeping upwards. Bound about her waist was a wide braided belt, the buckle worked in silver to depict a scene with some creature cavorting about in the water. A light blouse flowed up from the belt, pointed stars of color making bursts on sea blue fabric. Backing the loose hair -- now seen to be woven with flowers -- was a darker blue shawl. Over her shoulder was a sling carrying a stringed instrument; pipes hung from the belt, and a strange jewel hung as pendant across her broad chest.
The taller companion was much less arrayed. Green scales shimmered with the sunlight. Her vest seemed simply woven, a shade darker of blue than the halfling’s blouse. More flesh bared above a red belt, holding up short brown pants. Beyond that, she bore little; no instruments, only a small gem set on gold chain that hung on her angular head, centered on her forehead. As the two neared the fey, the lizardfolk stepped forward, raising both hands and bowing at the waist.
“Greetings, fair tenders; guardians and providers of life. My name is Ennis, and we come bearing a gift.”
The small group of fey exchanged looks, then one of the centaur spoke. “Albereth isn’t going to like this.”
One of the minotaurs, stomping, “Hah. He doesn’t like anything, especially to do with outsiders.” He peered at the two unusual figures, tilting his head and sniffing. “He’s not on the council, anyways. And they smell fine. Powerful, but fine.”
Behind him, a satyr rolled his eyes. “However good your nose may be, , it can’t smell intent. She speaks our tongue! How would an outsider know… where would it learn?”
The pair stood silently, waiting as the group murmured at one another. A girron stomped forward, swiveling its squat body to let first one set of eyes, then another, peer at them curiously; then stomping back to the circle, muttering. Finally, the voices still hushed, the centaur who had spoken earlier pushed his way out, approaching the two. Tilting his upper body in an approximation of a bow, he bent his legs slightly to them. “My apologies for our manners. I am Skel Mata. May the song ever nurture both of you.” His eyes flicked at the halfling, then back. “We are… unused to having visitors approach the Great Circle, but I suspect you know that already. Or to speak our own tongue with such eloquence.” He paused, looking the speaker up and down. “I have not seen such before, but I have heard tell; you are one of the Emerald One’s, with eyes that can pierce the veil of time?”
Ennis’s mouth quirked in a small smile. “Nothing so grand. Say, instead, I can see what might be. A gift from our lady of the dream, and a small one, compared to our freedom.” Furred eyebrows of the centaur raised in astonishment -- or question -- and Ennis let out a sibilant laugh. “Free indeed. I can hear your question; yes, we serve in kingdoms not of our kind, alone and often ostracized. But we are together in.. ways. And we are free from that which still grips our former kin, slaves to their own nature.”
Skel inclined his head in a slight nod. Ennis continued, “What we bring for you is for all of your kind to hear and benefit from.” Skel glanced back over his shoulder at the still discussing group, then turned and waded back in.
On and on the discussion went, and the halfling pulled the pipes from her belt, setting them to her lips and starting a pair of tunes, the notes trilling up into the air, sweeping gently past the assembly. The beats began to come faster and faster; a tinkling sound filled the air, making an underlying current to the pipes, each burst of sound coming with a twitch of the halfling’s hips. One tune spiraled into another, weaving a complex pattern that caused many to turn and stare, conversations and murmurs disappearing. When the throbbing crescendo crashed down to a quiet, intricate finale, marked by the last few beats as nothing more than the ringing from her hips, all stared in a state akin to awe. A quick rush of words from the small group, and a satyr and minotaur stepped forward again to the pair, both bowing low and deeply.
“We apologize for the wait, honored guests. Thank you for sharing the blessing of the Fair One. If you would come with us?” They looked at the pair; the halfling smiling slightly and nodding at Ennis, stowing her pipes. Ennis broke into a toothy smile, nodding in turn at the fey, and following them as they led the way towards the whole assembly.

Standing atop the small mound, the halfling several paces down, Ennis took a deep breath, then raised her head high, spine straight, tail nearly curling up behind her. When she opened her mouth and began to speak, the gem set on her forehead began to blaze with an inner light.
“Loyal and true creatures, servants of life! I am Ennis, Oracle of the Emerald, Dreamer. I come bearing the end of an age!” Well, that set the voices back in motion again. Behind, the halfling unstrung her sitar, beginning to play a gentle melody. “You know of change in the seasons, change in the worlds. You know the strife and devastation that makes a path through time and space. Farms and fields and groves has been razed to the ground. Worse yet than this I have seen, fires that burn through time, the death of the creators themselves!” Around the mound, a faint thrum filled the air; the gem shining bright and the halfling’s instrument giving off its own glow. “Many paths burning bright, then going dark. You have protected the land, at risk of your own lives. Your protectors,” here a bow to several of the Horned Ones, “valiant, have done their finest to protect you, but your people have been cut down. And it will get worse, not better. But no, I am not saying to run and hide. You will do the job appointed you, I know. But it is the end of an age. The end of the peaceful coexistence that was so when you were first called from earth and air! The end of the fear and worry of being cut down as armies stride across the land! We bring a gift! There is a new land, teeming with life. A stronghold against the world, without raging armies traversing it, without fires scorching it. Held fast, by magics stronger than all this. We bring a way there, for you, and you alone. Not to disappear to, but to rest in. A grove, a field to lay your head without worry. A place to call your own.” She lifted hands in the air, taking another deep breath, exhaling with a whisper into the air, eyes closed, and the winds began to swirl around her; the outlines of a landmass beginning to show in the air, filled with the green of trees and deep blues of water. “The Viridi Insulis. The new land. Green and free.” When her lids lifted, she was breathing heavily, leaning forward as if exhausted, and her eyes… No longer bore her piercing gaze. Clouded completely, she swept a sightless gaze over the mass assembled, the mound throbbing with magic and power in the air. “This is for all of you. Not for the Council to decide, but the full Assembly. We would conduct some there now, that they might see it in person.” Her eyes fell down to the front line of the crowd, to several of those who had approached earlier. The halfling, returning the sitar to carrying position, gently guided Ennis to lean on her, descending the mound and linking hands with a small group, one of each of the fey. The pendant gem of the halfling began to shimmer and shine; head bowed, Ennis whispered something, and they vanished.

It was perhaps an hour before they returned, an hour of murmurings and arguments and discussions; an hour of the discussion of possibilities. The travellers returned as suddenly as they had left, there in but a flash of green. With them came a bevy of smells as well, and the fey were hustled off to speak, to share what they had seen.

The conclusion was foregone by the time it went to the whole assembly, and Ennis read from a very old and tattered book as the silent halfling played, the magic of the land coursing through all.


Deirdre

Eight months. That was how long it took for their travels to bring them to someone she thought she could finally convince. Eight months of trying to subtly lay the groundwork with her aunt and uncle for her proposal. They stopped with several groups that looked right at first, but one of the many things Deirdre had learned on the road was reading people, and the groups they met just… weren’t what she was after.
Then they set down in the forests, in the far south, west of the Solar Peaks. Routine; tying things down, setting out the colored lanterns, one of her cousins setting the Welcome Bell and letting it ring clear and proud. Soon after the stands were set and the kettles raised, the piping and drumming from the woods let them know the bell had been heard. Visitors for dinner.
It was quite the troop that arrived; bearing not only music, but their own share of the meal as well. Flowers and meats and vegetables they added to the nightly bounty, and the woods heard the sweet sounds of companionship. A minotaur was the one Deirdre picked out. Circumspection. Or, perhaps, not. The horned ones, for all that they were fey with their love of games, were fairly direct types. When the drinks were being passed around, Deirdre made sure to serve him last. Platter empty, she sat down by his feet, staring up until he glanced down at her. Direct. “I want to learn to fight.”
His voice was not quite what one might anticipate out of that massive, bestial frame. Soft, throaty, and almost gentle. “Not from my hand, little one. You are not the first to ask such, nor the last. What is it? Spurned by a lover? Jealousy? Anger?”
Chin up and out, her eyes flashed brilliantly with reflected light. “Am I so shallow as all that? No.” Direct. She stared up at him. “My people are being slaughtered. We have none such as you to shield us. You will teach me.”
As befitting that head, he managed quite the loud snort at that. “You, a little whip of a halfling girl, think you can do my job?”
“There is no other.”
“Battle is not some fireside dance. It is blood and sweat and fear. Run along.”
“We are dying. Broken caravans litter the ground. I will learn, and you will teach me. You will not abandon those in need.” Her eyes locked on his in the dusk. One minute. Two. He twitched his head and snorted.
“Stubborn fool.” She heard it then, and knew she had him.

She went to her uncle and aunt that night, carefully prepared reasons and arguments and logic laid out. Their wagon was warm and inviting, smelling faintly of glazes and dyes. She sat inside, as one of their own children, and told them of her decision. The first of her logical paths was on her tongue.
Her uncle shook his head ruefully. “Ach. The day has finally come. Well, it was well enough on its way. You’ll do as you will.”
The first words began tumbling out of her mouth, then she realized what he had said. Blinking, she stared up at him as he snaked his arm around his wife’s waist. He let out a loud laugh as he saw the look crossing her face. “Far be it from me to keep you from your path; not that I could. You’ve got Breiag’s blood, right and true. Why, I remember when he set foot against our parents and told them that he would… Well, never mind my reminisces.” Reaching down a hand, he placed a finger under her chin and gently lifted her gaze, closing her wide mouth in the process. “But we’ll have no shirking. You’ll do us proud, you hear? And write. I don’t want to be the one to tell Breiag -- and, sweet music -- Neacht, that I’ve lost their daughter to the fey. And I’ll have a proper talk with this minotaur -- what did you say his name was? -- to make sure he does things rightly.”
Her aunt stood up, swatting her husband’s hand away from slapping her on the rump, reaching down to pull Deirdre up into her embrace, and her uncle joined them. “We’ll have a right proper leavetaking meal for you, you hear?”

Spoiler

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AP 10 + 10 (Rollover) + 1 (Bonus) - 0 (Libram charge: Teach Populace: Green Stride) - 0 (Jewel charge: Mold Land, reforming the Salas) - 0 (Eye charge: Nourishment: Clarity of the Eye) = 21

The Salas are as they were prior to be excavated.

Green Stride is a racial supernatural ability; Transport via Plants, with the caveat that it only works going to or from the Zaudēja Salas.

Clarity of the Eye is countering Cassandra’s curse.

[smashingBrawler]

Before long, four Craast Brutes come to the sight of the Grack's descent, followed by a single Craast Maker. Two of the hulking Brutes stop approximately one hundred feet from the Grack, watching the avatar with brooding interest that could edge over to violence at any time. The other two Brutes flank the Maker, coming within speaking distance of the Grack before halting.

The diminuitive Maker peers at the Grack, its four arms twitching curiously. <"It is not one of the Brood, does not look like any other I have heard of before... Brute! Speak to Gradle. Tell him to inform Defends Homeland that Quortalhal may wish to observe this new being in our lands,"> it chitters in Craast. One of the Brutes that hung back bows deeply before turning and loping away.

"Friend...or foe?" the Maker says in oddly accented, halting Common, seeming to barely understand the words it is speaking.

The scent of long-forgotten carcasses filled the air.

The Grack looked upon the Maker with empty sockets wrapped in obsidian. Maw unmoving, a low grow began to emanate from somewhere deep within The Grack, and then the growl evolved, and became words that rumbled forth from that same unknowable place. "Answer me. Do you wish to become stronger?"

[thethird]

Ocean - Eldarond Fleet, Puck, Voidgrel Ships

A simple thought comes from above.

We will guard the skies so you can do your manouvering.

The Hub
A strange shogling joins the hub, his body is thick and boisterous, lustered with black chitin that somehow lusters with many colors when light strikes it. He is as big as the alphas and his big mouth seems capable of taking everything crushing anything from rubble to animals with his maws. After any such feast it would loudly belch redish dust clouds. For the rest it was just a big shogling following orders with more cunning than most.

[Hatter]

The Ocean- Eldarond Fleet, Puck, Voidgrel Ships

"It's settled then." came the Admiral's thought-voice. "Eldarond will be the main attack body from the East. The Orphaned Kings will double-time around the island and attack from the West. The Voidgrel ships will take to the sky and provide air support. As soon as Krenko-Ka's fleet is removed from the equation, Eldarond will make landfall with our mechs, soldiers and artillery. If our sources are correct, non-goblins will be unable to enter the city due to poisonous gas and that's perfectly fine. Taking the city is not our objective. We are to strike the Fear of Stoixia into the hearts of Krenko-Ka's leaders."

[Toxic Mind]

The Ocean- Eldarond Fleet, Puck, Voidgrel Ships

"It's settled then." came the Admiral's thought-voice. "Eldarond will be the main attack body from the East. The Orphaned Kings will double-time around the island and attack from the West. The Voidgrel ships will take to the sky and provide air support. As soon as Krenko-Ka's fleet is removed from the equation, Eldarond will make landfall with our mechs, soldiers and artillery. If our sources are correct, non-goblins will be unable to enter the city due to poisonous gas and that's perfectly fine. Taking the city is not our objective. We are to strike the Fear of Stoixia into the hearts of Krenko-Ka's leaders."

Puck nods at the lieutenant, and thought-projects his agreement with the plan, and motioning for his ships to move out.

Meanwhile, the dryad-like figure moves its way to Angel. On closer inspection, Angel would be surprised to see that the thing in front of her was not, strictly speaking, alive. It was a carved statue. "Human. Walk with me, and tell me of Eldarond. I wish to hear you speak of your own people. I wish to see their worth to my kin."

[Shmee]

Krenko-Ka

The preparations for the invasion was now in full swing. The Trinity had shared their responsibilities. Squeeks would deal with the air fleet, while Pegpatch would naturally get the armada. This would leave the ground defense to Skreechy who had elevated himself to Field Marshall "Bloodbath" Skreechy. And if everything went as expected, which was to assume the worst, then Squeeks and Pegpatch would fail, thus requiring Skreechy's military genius to thwart any and all enemies from Krenko-Ka.

"Try as they will... THEY WILL NEVER TAKE THIS CITY! MWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! THIS IS FOOLPROOF! FOOLPROOF I SAY!" cackles Field Marshall Skreechy as he doodles on a map. Meanwhile there is a great commotion within Krenko-Ka, as the Goblins begin the preparation in accordance to Skreechy's plans.

What was he up to? All anyone knew, was the operation was named "Super Secret Master Plan to Kick Out All Foolish Fools of a Fool Who Would Dare Think of Touching Skreechy." or "S.S.M.P.K.O.A.F.F.F.W.W.D.T.T.S." for short.

All Skreechy had to do now... was wait.

[Zelphas]

The scent of long-forgotten carcasses filled the air.

The Grack looked upon the Maker with empty sockets wrapped in obsidian. Maw unmoving, a low grow began to emanate from somewhere deep within The Grack, and then the growl evolved, and became words that rumbled forth from that same unknowable place. "Answer me. Do you wish to become stronger?"

The Maker and the Brutes reel back as one from the stench. The Brutes recover faster than the Maker, the two flanking the diminutive Craast closing in front of him and flexing their claws, while the onefarther back rips a massive boulder out of the earth one-handed and hefts it, preparing to throw.

The Maker stills them with a word. Obediently, the two Brutes part and allow the Maker to once again stand before the Grack, though they keep their claws upraised. "Strength..." the Maker echoes, his bright eyes intent upon the Grack. "Many different...strength. What...type...strength you... offer?"

[smashingBrawler]

The Swordsman – Somewhere in the general area of Avalon

And so the Swordsman did land, and the Deathless did congregate around him. Clerics, Necromancers, and many varieties of battle-ready warriors made up the bulk of their ranks. The Swordsman stood at the center, and all the Deathless looked in his direction as he began to speak. "There is a great threat to this land and all those who inhabit it. Not only our kind, but all kinds are at risk! Something has caused great damage to this world, and it will surely do so again. I ask that any with information come forward, so that we may find this danger, and prevent it from further destruction!"

The Maker and the Brutes reel back as one from the stench. The Brutes recover faster than the Maker, the two flanking the diminutive Craast closing in front of him and flexing their claws, while the onefarther back rips a massive boulder out of the earth one-handed and hefts it, preparing to throw.

The Maker stills them with a word. Obediently, the two Brutes part and allow the Maker to once again stand before the Grack, though they keep their claws upraised. "Strength..." the Maker echoes, his bright eyes intent upon the Grack. "Many different...strength. What...type...strength you... offer?"

The Grack and the select Craast - Craast territory

The rumbling returned as The Grack spoke yet again. “Eternity. Growth. To forever take that which others have, but which you require.” The Grack raised a claw towards the maker, waiting for its response.

[Rainshine]

Keth’mai

The Ceremony of the Doors. It had been over two years. Two years of sweat, two years of building and money and people and arguments and choices. Some of those choices had been his own; while he had founded the Wardens, the work with getting the school built, getting supplies organized and teachers and everything else was too much. He had stepped down as the head Warden, and let another take that mantle. Gathzar of the dwarves now held those duties.
Finally, today, after those two long years of work, it was the day for the Ceremony. Much of their future was uncertain. Would students continue to come? Would it be valuable? There were rumors of armies sweeping across the land, approaching closer, a great war of devastation and mindless destruction. What would happen then?
Questions, though, for another day. Today was a day for celebration. Keth’mai tugged at his robes, eyeing them in the mirror. Arshish would normally be here to help him with it, but… Well, today was going to be a big day for her. Bigger for her than him, probably -- certainly more people anxious to hear here. He grinned to himself, leaving off the outfit and setting foot to steps. Soon now.

The sun was bright in the sky above, and there was quite the crowd. Many of the craftsman and laborers who had been so instrumental in building the college, financiers, parents of students, and some that, he imagined, were just curious. There was room for all. Throughout the assembled people, there were tables of refreshments. Keth’mai’s place… well, that was the front porch, if it could be called that. He did his best to make his way quietly there, but every few steps, there was another to congratulate him, to thank him, to share a drink or a pat on the back. It was a slow walk, to say the least. For the purposes of the ceremony, they had built a small lectern for him to stand behind. He stood. He gave a speech -- full of platitudes, and heartfelt thanks alike. He showed off some of the materials, to oohs and aahs. They applauded, the cheered, and he did his level best to keep it short. The best was yet to come.
“And now, the real reason we’re all here! I am delighted to present to you, one of the world’s finest voices, a beauty of the realm; my lady, Arshish-tek’mai!” He turned, leading the applause, and only just caught himself from stumbling right there. How would it look for him to crack his skull during the Ceremony?

He hadn’t seen her but for a moment that morning. Now, she was radiant, draped in in shades of light blue with blazes of crimson red. Her crest was polished and hung with gems; behind her sat and stood over a dozen musicians in a splendid array of garments. Drums and harps and lyres and pipes had they, and at her signal they began a slow and soft melody. Keth’mai hurriedly found his way to a seat so he could watch. He had never heard the tune before; Arshish had been working for several months on composing and arranging for today. Her first notes rang clear and pure in the silence of the anticipatory air. Keth’mai simply sat and basked in the outflow of music. He truly had married a remarkable woman.The band was not just locals to their settlement; several renowned players had come ahead of time to practice with Arshish. Their own radiance paled beside that of Arshish, as was proper though.

It was only as the song was in the final movement, her voice soft in the air, that Keth’mai glanced over his shoulder. There was something he heard… from further down the mountain. Latecomers to the party, doubtless. He turned back to the music with a smile.

The eyes, the gaze, that was what drew his attention away. The harpist was staring off in the same direction as the noises, further down the mountain. All the other musicians were intent upon their work, but not her. She was a halfling woman, stout, with a taste for colorful clothes, and only a few gems. Her hands were busy at work, fairly flying over the strings of her instruments as she sat, but she seemed to pay no attention to them. A sad smile creased her face, and she shook her head; only once, decisively. Then the strains of music began to build to the finale, and his attention turned back to Arshish.

Just before the final note, his eyes were drawn to the halfling again. She and her instrument were radiant as well… they appeared to be full on glowing! Then Arshish hit her final note, clear and high, a bell in the air, and suddenly a glow was everywhere. Keth’mai already knew their source -- two years of going over the grounds and designs, of being on-site. The crystal sculptures of the elves. Glowing that grew, until he could see nothing, nothing but white, immobilized in his seat, with only the last strident notes lingering in the air. Then darkness, nothingness, and his mind left.


Back tent, bazaar

There were seven halflings crammed into the small tent; besides the body aroma, flowers and various spiced drinks filled the air. Their clothes were all well-tailored, colorfully dyed, and artfully embroidered or otherwise decorated. The atmosphere was one of collegiality and joviality.
“So, we pulled in, crates full of freshly dyed fabrics, because Harvath went and DIED… And it turns out there’s a royal wedding the next week! The entire blasted shipment, 1500%, and we had fights over it at that price!”
“Had a terrible crossing over from Stoixia, nearly lost a couple wagons. Sell off what we can at half the prices we thought we’d get, because there’s no where else to move custom pieces like that. Trying to figure out how to make it back, and the Delgothian rep comes and finds me. Seems that their normal rail carrier had some sort of malfunction, again. They were sick and tired of dealing with the rails, and wanted an honest and reliable carrier. Full contract, right then and there.”
“Two full sets of sung wood, another of gems from down around the rim, and not a buyer to be found. Had a breakdown just short of the Mountain trade grounds; ended up having to force down. Found out they’ve got some big building project up there; school of some sort. Bought the whole thing, and my son is enrolled to boot. Going to be a musician!”

Stories like that filled the tent; great fortune had found the halfling people.


The Mind of A Living Ship - Moollilwc, Sarra

“But nor can you feel love or joy from here. No longer can you frolic in the waves with the spray in the air. Loss and pain come with being alive, but so do other, much more powerful gifts.”

Spoiler

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AP 21 - 3 (Create Plane: Collegium) - 2 (Open Portal: Collegium) - 2 (Create Organization: Bardic College) - 1 (Nourishment: Bountiful Trade)

The details of how access to the College is obtained, and how one gets there will come later.

The halfling caravans are doing exceptionally well, expanding their existing routes and connections to be the largest and most reliable traders, crafters, and carriers around.