Turn 2 has started everyone, please check the MP Spreadsheet for your updated MP counts. Please let me know if any number is off and I'll fix it when I can.

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In the corners of the Land of Origins and in the deepest recesses of the caves that bore into the earth hidden behind the occasional waterfall, there lived these strange, little green creatures. They stood, barely, on two legs and brandished tools that they held in their spindly arms. They were cowardly, for they only actively hunted things that were far smaller than them and even then, they did so in groups. They were weak, because over generations their bodies had degraded and deteriorated from a mix of incest and lack of sunlight. And most of all they were devious, because they didn’t just hunt their prey, they played with it, set traps in its path and often ate it alive.

These creatures - who did not know their own names and who had long lost the ability to communicate in anything other than grunts, whines, whimpers and laughter - stuck to the shadows and shied away from those they felt were smarter or stronger than them.

That is, until one of those larger and smarter things triggered one of their traps as soon as it walked into their cave, a trap which dropped a boulder on its head and killed it on the spot.

It was a goat, and yet it stood on two legs and had held onto some kind of long stick until it died. The body lay there alone and grew cold as the small green, hunched over creatures circled around it. First they watched, then with a huff one of them poked it with the heavy end of its club.

Silence.

Then after looking at each other and at the corpse one last time, one of them chuckled and that chuckle turned into full blown laughter, and the others joined in.

A cacophony of howling surrounded the dead, with many dropping to the floor with tears in their eyes and others striking the corpse with clubs and rocks in between bursts of laughter.

The laughter subsided when the corpse started to look more like a mound of fleshy refuse than a creature, and was replaced by growling and snarling. The little green creatures jumped onto the mound of flesh and ate with a ferocity they’d never felt before.

These tall, graceful things may be bigger, one of them thought after having its fill of red, lukewarm meat, but they were not smarter.

Weeks later, the entrance to their cave had been decorated with five horned skulls and several broken bones as well as a totem depicting a great boar, a cloud of spikes, and a goat with broken horns.

---

@Vel

MUNDANE QUEST #1: Curse of the Starless Night

Over time, small villages where hardworking Goatfolk and Goblins live together have formed around the Restaurant of the Gods. These villages are usually busy just surviving. They hunt and gather for food and perform monthly ceremonies in honour of the Celestial Chef, where every family must present a new take on one of their traditional dishes in the hopes of catching the attention of the Celestial Chef and bringing a blessing to their village in the process.

But recently, there has been a worrying development - The ceremonies have all but ceased, and the chatter amongst the mortals has gradually shifted from excitement about the upcoming ceremony, to nervousness and anxiety about the future. The villagers are an introverted sort so rumours aren’t really a thing, but even so the low ranks amongst Talyr’s kitchen staff - like the dishwashers and kitchen assistants - have started to whisper amongst themselves about the Curse of the Starless Night, and started to share tips on how to prevent their families from being attacked by the ‘demons’ during the upcoming Starless Night.

“SAVE your. PEOPLE from. THE green. DEMONS.” A particularly chatty spoon tells Talyr during her latest cooking session.

EXPECTED POSTS FOR QUEST COMPLETION: 1
DANGER LEVEL: LOW

---

@legion02 @Lord Zee

DIVINE QUEST #1: Divine Roots

Something is happening deep in the earth below the Tree of Life. The earth is shifting, grass is twitching and most worryingly, The Tree of Life is shedding its leaves way too soon and way too quickly. There is only one suspected cause - The Divinium deposit below the Tree. Upon reaching out to her ward the Watcher, Sylia received no response.

“Cannot feel your toy? Talk to the first Plant? Talk to the first Plant? Talk to It?” Sylia’s hand asked, and then fell silent.

“Soon, No Leaves On Tree. Soon, No Leaves on Trees. Soon, No Trees. Soon, No Plants. Soon, No Plant. Soon, Talk To Metal. Soon, Find Cause. Soon, Save Yourself.” A rose told Allianthe as she walked through a primordial forest.

EXPECTED POSTS FOR QUEST COMPLETION: 1-2 Collab
DANGER LEVEL: LOW

“What! Why! How! Why do the other gods keep doing this!?” the exasperated Maintainer threw up her hands and demanded to know, further scaring the assortment of humanoid creatures she had come across in the desert. Those that were not already boiling in their thick fur scattered into the desert, fleeing the furious goddess and causing her to snap out of her rage when she saw the consequences of it.

“No wait, come back! I didn’t mean to scare you! Please don’t run, you'll get hurt! You’ll die out there” she called after them desperately, and though some slowed, others just kept running.

Then all of them started running again when the motherly figure and her great crystal orb were replaced by a wizened form sat astride a machine of blades and death, one which immediately started cackling at the Maintainer's misfortune.

“EHEHEHEHEHEHEHE It never ends! It never ends! This is your curse, you stagnant goat! You care too much, and look where’s got you! Endless labor!” The Breaker mocked the third that had been keeping her from taking control, only for her to lose it as well just as soon as she had gotten it, and for the Maker to take over again.

Still, she was in agreement with her oldest self , complaining that “This is so booooooring! It’s time for something new! The cave was cool, let's go do more stuff like that!” only for the Maintainer to snap back in control.

“No! Someone has to do this, and that person has to be me!” she insisted, but the others were still having none of it

“Come on now dearie, we’ve been at this for ages. I think we deserve a break ehehehehe” the Breaker joked, while the Maker agreed with by saying “Yeah, let it be someone else’s problem!”

“No no no we have to- I have to …” the Maintainer insisted, before slowing in her speech, thinking for a moment and then realizing that “we can make it something else’s task” which got a “huh?” From the Breaker but an “ooooooh!” from the Maker before she clapped her hands and declared “one self sustaining solution coming right up!”

---

A nameless figure stumbled through the desert, fleeing from the strange shifting thing that was screaming at itself. The figure had no idea what it was, or who it was, all it knew was it had to run, to flee. Then, in its haste, it tripped.

It went tumbling down a sand dune, sand making an absolute mess of its shimmering black feathers as it fell, before its pointed beak got stuck in the sand. It struggled, grasped the ground with all four sets of talons and then heaved with all its might, freeing itself from the sand.

It shook itself, trying to get the grains out of its feathers and nostrils to little avail, before wondering if maybe it should have listened to whatever that screaming pointy headed creature was. This desert thing was not nice.

Then it heard a rumbling, and turned to find the source, only to see a massive wall of chitin coming straight at it. Or rather rolling, though the distinction was rather lost as it cried out in alarm and started to try and run again.

It was fruitless however, as all legs pale in comparison to the all mighty wheel.

The roly-poly of a woodlouse the size of a van bore down on the poor bird beast person, but rather than squish him it opened up its curled up body just enough that the gap rolled over its target, rather than its body. It didn’t leave its target behind however, and instead lots of little legs pulled the bird-person up into the center of its body.

The rather dizzy bird person only barely felt the bug stop spinning, and then was carefully inserted into some kind of translucent cylinder that the bug was wrapped around. As it was dropped in, the bird landed atop a creature who had long red hair, rounded ears, a moderate stature and with skin pale as the sands down to the waist, at which point the rest of its body was that of a red and black banded snake.

The two screamed at each other, struggled and scrambled to either side of the cylinder, from which they stared at each other for a few moments, both panting hard. They hadn’t come out of the struggle evenly however, and the now bleeding from claw wounds snake person shied away from the bird when it tried to communicate. So instead the bird sighed and looked away, only to gasp at what it saw.

Through the glass like exterior of the cylinder it could see the desert flying by as the bug that had captured them rotated around the glass, somehow keeping them completely level as it used its own body as a wheel. They were climbing an embankment of some kind, and from up there the bird could see more of them. So many more. A few were chasing after other humanoid creatures, but most were simply blazing forth into the desert, looking as if they might fill the world with their bodies.

Then their own bug turned, racing down the embankment and careening towards a half dozen green figures. They barely even tried to run, and soon enough they too had been scooped up and deposited inside the cylinder. The bird waved at them too, but the green things seemed too exhausted, dehydrated, or both too much else but lay there in defeat.

That was until they stopped rolling again a little while later, and a stream of little soft globs rained down atop them, stirring the goblins into wakefulness. One reached out a shaking hand and promptly shoved the foreign object into its mouth, chewing it with grim determination. Then it paused. Then its eyes lit up. It chewed barely enough to soften the orb up, swallowed, and then eagerly grabbed for another one, and then a third, before finally pausing its feasting, and passing the fourth to a fellow green thing.

Curious, the bird, who had left the goblin pile well alone after one weakly hissed at it when he’d poked them, reached for one of the orbs itself, only to have their hand slapped by the green thing who had eaten. Very weakly slapped.

The bird was shocked rather than hurt. Sat there for a few more moments, thinking, and then tried again. A hand tried to slap it away once more, but the bird was bigger and stronger and still full of the energy it had been created with, so it simply ignored the feeble attempt at violence and took what it wanted.

That rather set the tone for the rest of the journey. Having found that it could, the full blooded bird folk with its larger size, feathered armor, and sharp beak and talons came to dominate the other occupants, snake person included. It hoarded the lion’s share of the food orbs, leaving only a few for the others. They in turn stuck together, the snake joining the goblin tribe mainly because they had to share space with each other as the bird took over ⅔ of the chamber so it could control the food supply.

Then, out of the blue, the journey ended.

Sand was replaced by wetlands and, at their heart, a shimmering river of crystal blue waters that gave life to all around it.

The giant rolling bug promptly dumped them out onto the ground here, proceeded to devour several trees, and then rolled off into the desert again. It was not the only one to do so. Even as the people started around in wonderment, they saw other giant bugs rolling in to drop off people.

A lot of people.

Then all of a sudden all eyes went to the bird for a moment, then back to the open space before the goblins and snake-folk all collectively ran (or slithered) away from it, wanting to be as far away from the bully as possible.

It watched them go with disinterest, and though in time it would come to desire that power again, for now it instead approached the banks, and stared down into the waters, finally seeing its own face.

A thin beak, dark eyes, pointed ears and radiant black and dark blue feathers stared back at it, and then the kingfisher heeded the call of the waters, diving into their cool embrace. On instinct it snatched its head forwards, catching something in its beak, and then rising up to the water’s surface, wiggling juvenile carp in its beak.

The act of fishing fed some hunger it had not known it had had, bringing about a satisfaction that beat even that of the one brought by the taste of swallowing its catch.

Life, it decided, was good, and surely it had all been made for the king fisher’s benefit. Thus bloomed to fruition a deep seated ego, and only woe for those upon whom it was inflicted could follow.

Time passed and Galaxor’s cosmic energy returned to him. He watched in silence what the other divines had done, the blood rain, the astral realm, the dream realm and of course, the massive tree that grew where the Khodex fell on Galbar. What made Galaxor laugh, was the creation of the goblin states. It was impossible for him not to notice it and of course, have the Smilegma use all that information to evolve Maxima’s tribe.

He also watched with interest what heroes might rise and from where, he noticed the great Jaxx as the love survivor of his spark and his friend…Jaxxx. A thing he laughed out loud enough to shatter the ground and make craters everywhere in the near vicinity of his location at the time, the desert. Overall he had fun but it was time to get back to work.

Galaxor long proposed to himself to learn more, be more knowledgeable and it was time for him to work on that. He teleported himself inside Goblin Underground and watched, amazed at how it evolved since he left it.

The 50m cave expanded in all directions and in certain places of the tunnels the goblins have built, one could see extremely thick roots of the life tree. Buildings appeared in the cave, nothing too sophisticated but it was enough to give a decent living. The goblins themselves seemed more muscled up than the ones he saw on the outside, probably because of all the mining they’ve been doing but maybe a bit thin, even with all the muscles but not all of them. Some were round and fat while the rest…just thin. Galaxor looked a bit confused, the Cornucopia should’ve made sure they’ve all been fed.

And that’s when he saw her, Maxima. A litter of 40 baby goblins around her and many guards, strong looking soldiers armed with different tools and keeping all goblins away from her. Maxima was seated upon something resembling a throne and watched with interest all that’s going around. With a loud laugh that startled all the goblins in the cave, Galaxor approached Maxima who quickly stood up from her throne.

A simple look from her, all the goblins went on their knees.

“ha! Ha! HA! HA! HA! Look at you tiny mortal. I see you’re using the power I gave you to take control of your tribe, put them to work and all. ” said Galaxor with a big smile on his face. In truth, Galaxor didn’t care who’s taking control of the tribe or what they’d do. If they were evil, a hero would rise up to take care of them, if they were good, an evil hero would rise up to take control. In the end, both outcomes satisfied him.

“My creator. Welcome! Welcome! You haven’t graced us with your presence in a long time. I have done what I’ve been given, reproduction and command. Our tribe has over 800 members currently, most on the small size and we’ve expanded our territory as much as we could. Let me know if something is not to your liking and I’ll make it happen. The Goblin Underground is yours to do as you wish. ” said Maxima, while looking Galaxor straight into the eyes. Galaxor chose her exactly for this behaviour. Fearlessness in front of anything. Now that was the sign of a hero.

“If there were things not to my liking, Maxima, I would’ve fixed them myself. A hero never waits for handouts from their betters. They strive to BE better than their betters until they become their betters…and then, there will still be better than them even at that point and they’ll have to become even better until there won’t be anymore better for a while and then there will be someone better and better. It’s an endless cycle of bettering. With that said, there are some changes I’ll make to this place. First of all…GOBLINS COME OVER HERE! ” said Galaxor, putting on his thinking cap as he explained the theory of heroism and then shouted a command to all goblins in the vicinity which if they could’ve, they would’ve teleported to him but it was pretty close, speed wise.

As soon as the goblins gathered around him, Galaxor clapped his palms and a wave of cosmic power started to spread away from him into a wall, carving into it a room. The cave’s floor transformed into something akin to gold and statues of Galaxor rose from the ground in different heroic poses. Maybe it was a coincidence but the temple was raised exactly underneath the other temples from the tree. With an additional “umph” from Galaxor, anyone who was a hero would find themselves thinking more clearly and in depth while inside, thanks to the heroic ability of Calm Minds.

The goblins, initially on their knees out of fear, now were on their knees out of reverence for the power of their creature.

“PPPHHHEEEW! Now, this place is a holy temple dedicated to yours truly. Keep it clean, keep it safe. I will always know if something is happening to it and if it’s dirty. So…MAKE SURE IT AIN’T! ” said Galaxor with an exaggerated phew and tone.

“You heard him! We’ve been honoured to become the holy guardians of the temple! Oh’ Great One! We thank you for your faith in us. ”

“No faith, just a gamble. Now, onto the next order of business. I shall be teaching you some VERY important things. Look at me. ”

As the goblins lifted their heads to gaze upon their creator, Galaxor’s aura flared with divine power and the knowledge of writing, drawing and other forms of knowledge storage were suddenly in the minds of the goblins. The goblins looked at one another as the knowledge settled into their brains.

“You! You and you! Quickly act upon this. Get me those black stones we’ve found in the fire!” immediately shouted Maxima while pointing at a few goblins. While the knowledge was new to her too, her boost as a hero made it faster for her to understand it and make the necessary connections to figure out how to use it efficiently. A rock they found with a black coating around it inside a burnt fire. The first type of “ink” to be used to write.

“Anyways. I’m off. Make sure to keep this place clean and use the knowledge I taught you…OR ELSE! ” said Galaxor with a laugh and teleported away, leaving the goblins to their business. A library will soon be built by them, Galaxor was certain of that. Not that they needed it since the Smilegma would do that for them but maybe the goblins had different plans in their minds.

---

His first thoughts had been of running. The second had been a maelstrom of sand. Biting, blinding sand and there had been no direction to go. It was maddening. But he endured. He ran and ran and ran until the howling lessened and then ceased altogether. When this was done he let out a huff, shook himself off and took in his surroundings. A giant wall of dust and sand lay behind him, he had not outran the storm but had survived it. What stretched out before him was more sand, endless beyond the horizon.

The beast glowered and put his head into the air. He took a deep breath and then sniffed the air. The smell of earth was blatant and there was not even a hint of water. He swung his head, sniffing, trying to find some sense of direction. But what was there really to find? Perhaps not so much a direction but a way towards survival. Then he caught a whiff of something that could leave a scent. His head snapped its attention back towards the storm and there, a black dot, silhouetted amongst the dunes came a thing from the storm, just as he had.

His claws dug into the sand, his fur bristling, standing on end. Would it be friend or foe? There was only ever one way to find out and so he ran, marveling at his speed. Starting on all fours, he quickly realized running upright was far better. His legs were feeling the extent of the excursion by the time the figure came into sight. He could make out what it was- One of his own kind but not. A thing smaller than him, with brown creamy feathers, a full dark beak and darker eyes. It seemed to shrink as it saw him and came to a sudden stop as he approached.

“D-Don’t come any closer!” Came it’s high pitched voice. A female. Coming to a stop not fifteen feet away, he crouched and stared at the bird, taking her in. He immediately noticed why she wasn’t flying. Her broken wing, from the storm no doubt. He sniffed the air. Fear was palpable in the air and the bird knew it.

“S-Stay away!” She shrieked, covering her bad arm with the good. .

A deep shuddering thrill ran down his spine. The bird was so much smaller and his belly growled.

The bird looked as if she was going to break. Saliva dripped from her maw as his vision became transfixed. He was about to attack when fate had other ideas. A creature crested behind her, giant and clacking as it swooped between them and scooped them up. The world became darker, more constricting and brief panic set in. He realized he was trapped in some cage, the outside world streaking past.

And then the beast heard a whimper and turned to see that the cage was not so constrictive after all. His eyes went wide, for the bird was there and more. Another one of his kind, with gray fur and a long snout sat huddled across the room. More curious were the small green folk, huddled around piles of some sort of egg. Several in all and they looked at him as well. Fear swelled in the room and he only saw red.

---

When at last the giant bug reached the river and deposited its contents upon the river bank, those around(and there were a lot around), ran at the sight of half-eaten and bloody corpses and the large wildblood predator emerged, fur matted with dried blood.

He was given a name then, as he went down to drink from the cool waters. One that would forever mark the sin stained upon his face.

Maw Who Slew In Salvation.

Yumash found themselves roaming once more after their interaction with the goddess of fire. The sands of the desert having given way to the marshes and banks of a great river. Yumash didn’t entirely recall seeing this before, but they didn’t mind. The world was always changing as it should be, but there still needed to be more.

Just then, they felt a shift. They knew what had happened, their great vein had shifted and passed over the area, as it was want to do. The lands around them shifted and changed, the grass became a vibrant blue, and the river itself seemed to transform into a jelly-like substance. The change was not long, only lasting a few minutes before returning to its original state. But it delighted Yumash all the same.

But it wasn’t enough Chaos.

Sure, the vein was great, but really, how much Chaos could just one thing really cause? No, they needed more. Perhaps it was time for them to make some more permanent marks?

They turned away from the river, walking just a bit away to give them enough space to build whatever they were going to build. It needed to be able to move that was for sure, and it couldn’t be too big of a design so that it could fit anywhere it needed to go. Ah! They knew what needed to be made.

Raising their hands, Yumash summoned forth the energy of chaos. Unleashing bursts of their ever shifting and multicolored form that lashed out all around the area. Soon, four grand towers began to emerge, clipping through the floor of the world and rising upwards towards the sky. They quickly reached their full height, grand prismatic spires that spiraled upwards towards the sky, their bricks ever shifting their colours. But they weren’t done just yet, they took four of the coloured orbs from within their form, flicking them towards each of the towers. Allowing them to clip into the towers and fuse with their essence, providing more power.

But they knew this wouldn’t be enough, they couldn’t just leave these towers to their devices. They needed something to aid in the chaos. Their mind raced through ideas, wondering just what to create, then they remembered the strange jelly the river had become.

Returning to the river, they grabbed a bit of the water, bringing it back towards the towers. They began to transform it into a strange, jelly-slime like substance, which they then grew in size, allowing them more to create with. The slime created, they began to shape sections of it into strange amorphous forms, they had no coherency, only vaguely looking like a humanoid figure. Then, once they were done and had more than enough of them readied, they took out more orbs, breaking them into smaller parts and placing the pieces into each creature, giving them life.

The slimes reacted immediately, the colours of their forms shifting and changing into various different shades and hues almost immediately. With a new semblance of thought, they began to look around, their focus eventually landing upon the godly form of Yumash, which they quickly drew towards, all eager to serve such a glorious Chaotic being.

“Hello Little Creatures!” The god spoke, gently squatting down to get closer to their new creations. “You Shall Be My Servitors! Gloriously Serving Chaos!” At that, the slimes let out various noises of joy, outstretching their tendrils in reverence.

“Good To See You All Excited! Now Then, What to Call You…How About Gloinks?” Another cry of joy confirmed their name, Gloinks. “Perfect! Now My Little Gloinks, Let's Get To Work!”

Yumash led the slimy creatures towards the towers, and began to get to work. Teaching the Gloinks on how to tend to and help protect the four towers. Showing them how to ensure that the stones did not crumble with basic tools and work, how to tend to the chaotic and prismatic flames that kept the towers functioning. And how to ensure that any who dared enter within with malicious intent would become lost and confused in the ever shifting and changing interiors.

Content with the teachings, and knowing the Gloinks would get the hang of it soon enough, they divided the large group into four small sections, ensuring there were 50 Gloinks to each of the towers. Ensuring they had a good starting population to expand if need be. Finishing up, they headed to the top of one of the towers, deciding to take a rest after all the work they had just done. Laying back on a chair of their own creation, they waved their hands one last time, forming a prismatic and ever shifting juicebox in their hands. Taking a sip, before the fours towers shifted and teleported across the world. Ready to spread Chaos where it was needed.

The storm whipped at the strider’s crystal skin, thin scratches splayed across its mass with every passing grain of sand. The sun, far above, may as well not have existed through the weight of the desert above. Entire dunes collapsed over from the gale that threatened to drag the strider with it. Their body rattled through it all, glowing eyes desperately swung around, looking for their companion.

There was some colossal moving structure vanishing into the sand on the north horizon, hazy through a hundred tons of sand dragged upon the air. There was blood here, quickly drying and quickly covered over where the goblin once sat. But there was no corpse, it was as though they had simply vanished. A harmonization, lost to the wind. Another, a desperate call hoping for a response. Nothing but the howling wind and the deep dark.

Nothing but the great breaking wheel on the north horizon. Faster than the strider could ever be, its trail obscured rapidly by the falling sands. Nothing but a direction to travel, and the hopes of escaping the hell of the desert. The hopes of finding companionship once more, as short-lived as it was, rested on that horizon. Now that the strider had been exposed to a world beyond its imagination, one of language and creatures and cooperation, its mind spun with possibilities beyond bare animal instinct.

It was enough to, at last, feel full. There was so much to study, so many concepts to consider purely within its own mind. The strider was freed from the trepidations of the sand, invigorated for a journey, and given a goal. Travel north, and never stop until all is well. It began to walk, step after step through the sandstorm as it considered the possibilities of language.

As the sun slowly emerged from the clouds of sand and the wind died down, it considered the utility of names. It named the fine grain on the ground, it named the wind, it named the sky and the sun and the stars that rose in the night. And then it considered what you could do with those names. It needed some way to string them together, something conjunctive. It needed active descriptors, ways to identify what the named substances were doing and names for those actions. It had never felt so full before in its life.

The formation of language spun around in its mind until suddenly, a drop of liquid impacted on the crest of their head. They stopped, suddenly confused, and they looked up at the sky. Nothing but the endless sandstorm; they lowered their head again and – once more, another drop, this time on their back. They spun around to see nothing, and looked up once more, and this time they could see the source.

Drop after drop of blood, like the strider had seen on the goblin, began to pour down and batter the sandstorm to a temporary halt. It sizzled into steam on the hot sand, the world filling with a deep hissing noise as the blood-storm began. The strider, confused, looked down at the sand and the residue left behind by each droplet. It wasn’t sure if this was real, but it felt real enough. It sat and pondered on this development as, in the divot between two dunes, blood began to collect.

It looked down at the pool, and for the first time, it saw its reflection. It startled back, terrified it had been ambushed by some other strider, but was surprised when the strider in the pool of blood jumped back as well. It tentatively approached once more, and poked at the expanding pool with its arm. The apparition poked back. It startled back once more, and the creature in the pool also jumped back.

Then, the strider began to realize what was going on. It tilted its head, and stretched out its arm to look at it. The reflection mirrored the action, and a single thought went through its head; that’s me?. It splashed an arm into the pool, and the reflection broke up into waves. Fascinated, it sat down and watched the blood until it stilled again. There was so much to study, and so little time to do so.

For that weary Rakshasaraja who lay upon a lilypad atop the golden lake, there was to be neither rest nor peace. When next he was disturbed, it was to the sound of one tremendously Big Bang. Never in the short span of creation before that point had there been any sound more offensive and insipid than that horrific tumult, just as it was impossible to imagine that anything in the future ever could be.

The last echoing notes of the Celestial Music were drowned out and shattered and silenced by the hideous racket; its clamor was more anathema to the great black ape-demon-king than that scraping of metal upon stone were to all cultured and noble beings.

It would have been enough to drive anyone mad, but remember, this was a most enlightened soul who fancied himself the Universe’s appointed Ear. That made the offense of the deafening sound all the worse. “SHHHHHHHH!” the Rakshasaraja hissed through his curled lips, and also through his gritted teeth, even as they ground upon one another with a force that could crush down tall mountains.

It was futile, that one first Rakshasa battling the Khodex and the whole of creation, but there was nothing to do but fight. Nothing to do but hush with all the vigor of his chest and lungs, loud enough to make the wretched universe hear and then quieten and redden in shame. So he hushed, furiously and incessantly, “SHHHHHHHHH–!” He made the sound that a waterfall makes, hushing the universe with a vigor that no cataract–no matter how mighty–could ever rival! But that sound was not enough to silence the raging Big Bang, just as the big fat fingers plugging his ears were not enough to spare the noble Rakshasaraja from the Big Bang’s sound and fury. As his mind throbbed and the entirety of his being reverberated, he was wracked with pain. The sound and the pain built up and up, like a great lake swelling from endless deluge until no dam could ever contain it. Finally, his shushing was split by a piercing cry, ”--EEEP!”

The universe itself seemingly wanted to silence him just as he’d sought to silence it, for he suddenly found his mouth filled with a whole flock of SHEEP. It was now impossible for him to make any sound but a garbled gagging! “Galbargalbargalbar,” one might imagine he sounded like, but fortunately he wasn’t so loud or passionate as to create another three Galbar-stones at that time. In any case, the sheeps’ wooly coats smothered his tongue and parched his lips, and their wretched bleating filled the inside of his mouth and head just as the thunderous bang roared on all around. The Rakshasaraja was stricken unconscious once again, thrown to-and-fro upon his lilypad and rolled this way and that by the furor of the Big Bang, until he found some semblance of peace.

Slowly, one ewe managed to wriggle through the Rakshasaraja’s lips in between his snores. A lamb followed, and then a great ram, and then the whole of the flock. They spilled forth and began grazing upon the warm lake of gold.

At that time, the vast gleaming surface stirred slightly, and the five lesser Rakshasas, those wrathfully cast words, rose up from it after having been toppled and submerged in the turmoil of creation. Corpse floated placidly about, no worse off for having drowned. Song spat streaks of light out from her mouths. Perfection and Preserver, the malcontent siblings, churned and wallowed a while before they could right themselves in a way that left them satisfied. Rage struck his way up with a persistent pounding like the drip of water on a sheet of ice.

They looked around, and saw the sheep.

Corpse said “Hum!,” then thought no more of it and went on floating. Song began to hum, but one of the sheep bleated, and she broke off confused. Perfection squinted, took up one of the sheep and stretched it out, then pushed in its legs, and stretched them again; it bleated terribly, and Song’s mouths just hung open.

Preserver threw up his hands as he watched, then sat and began to think.

“These sheep are plentiful,” he said.

“They are,” answered Song, speaking with one mouth while the others hummed, because her song had no words. Rage’s eyes bulged and he shook his fists and stamped in place.

“We can’t do away with all of them,” Preserver spoke, “but we have to. What if they eat the whole lake, and there truly is no more place left for us to stand?”

“We could find a better place than it,” said Perfection, but then she could think of none that she would gladly have gone to. Corpse blinked.

“We could eat the sheep ourselves,” proposed Song.

“I am full,” said Corpse.

“They won’t do,” frowned Perfection.

Rage twirled in his dance like a whirlwind and glared balefully every which way. If he heard something, he could not say it; the others did not seem to.

They looked to the Rakshasaraja, but as he was asleep they did not want to wake him.

“We should fetch someone,” concluded Preserver, “that is hungry enough to eat with us.”

“Good day,” said the sun.

Now the sun was all around them, and very bright. They had not noticed him among them, for his body was all of gold, like the lake was gold. “I have heard here that there are many sheep bleating. Now I am wondering, to whom do all these sheep belong which are grazing on the lake of warm gold? I would like to sit with that person, and be their guest and eat their sheep. For I have not eaten yet, and I am very hungry.”

One of the sheep looked up from its cud, which was brassy-tinted but still golden. “Mre-e-e-e-eh! Do not let the sun sit down with you and eat. His tongue is like fire, and his belly is very big and round. He will eat everything, even the lily pad. Mre-e-eh! He will eat you also, if you let him sit down with you and make him into your guest. He will drink the lake of warm gold and lick it all up.”

Preserver was pensive then, and said, “The sun lives alone inside the lake, and people do not approach him, for he is bright and burns all things. There are many sheep here, but certainly his hunger is very great. Truly he might eat us all if he does sit with us.”

But Song answered, “Still these sheep need to be eaten, and none of us can do it. Corpse has eaten already and is grown fat; my mouths will be full if I eat, and then I could not sing. Perfection will not eat, and Rage would burst if he did so try. Thus you would have to eat the sheep all alone if the sun does not sit with us, and I do not think you could do that.”

Then Preserver was quiet, but he took up and moved further away. Song spoke to the sun: “O sun, these sheep are Grandfather’s, but he is sleeping now; you see he is there. Come sit and help us eat them, for they are very many, and this troubles us.”

So the sun walked up to their gathering where they sat, licking up the sheep as he went. He stretched out his long straight arms from his body, going in every direction about him, and his arms were golden and very hot. When he sat down with the children of the Rakshasaraja they began to sweat with the heat, for his tongue was like fire as he ate. Only Preserver did not sweat, because he had gone further away.

Then the sun smiled, showing all his white teeth. He picked up the bleating sheep in his hands and ate them all up, filling his belly. The little lambs he ate, and the ewes and rams also, eating up their wool, their hooves, and their horns. He ate and ate and ate, and soon the air was all quiet from the bleating, for he had eaten the whole flock which belonged to their grandfather the Rakshasaraja.

Now the sun was round and heavy from all the sheep that he had eaten, and he walked very slowly, so that it would take a whole day and night to walk around the same way he had come. When the sun had stood up and walked a little closer, he ate Corpse, who had also become very slow and fat. But there were bones inside of Corpse, and the sun choked and coughed and grew very thirsty. The sun kneeled down and began to drink the lake of warm gold, gulping it down and becoming hotter and hotter. For though he had eaten and become round, his belly was not full.

Preserver looked on, and he stood up and went behind the Rakshasaraja’s lilypad. He called Perfection to him and said, “O sister, you see that the sun’s hunger is truly very great. He has eaten all the sheep, and Corpse also, and now he will drink the lake of gold. Then all of us will have no place to be but in his belly. Go and measure out the best piece of the lake, which we will hide somewhere until the sun is full.”

Then Perfection stooped over the lake, which was ebbing with the sun’s gulps, and began to trace a circle across it to measure out the best piece. But none seemed quite the best; as soon as she had traced one, she saw that it would be better if one end was cut away, and the other made a little wider, and so she began again. She traced out another piece, which seemed quite good, but as she was admiring it the sun took a great gulp, and the circle was unsettled as the lake of gold ebbed. So she began again, but try as she might she could not find the best piece again, and scowled furiously.

So Preserver wrapped himself in his hands and went to Song. Rage was dancing angrily before her, even though it was very hot because the sun was with them. Corpse was quiet, because he was in the sun’s belly. Preserver said, “O Song, you have called the sun to sit with us, and he has eaten all the sheep, and Corpse also. Now he will drink all the lake of gold, and we will have no place to be. What are we to do?”

Song answered, “I cannot give the sun anything else to eat, for he has devoured all of Grandfather’s sheep. But I will sing to him, because even though a song is not as good as a full belly, it can make you forget that you are hungry.”

So Song began to hum with all her mouths, and the sheep could not bleat as she did, so that it was smooth and warm and heavy like the golden lake. Rage listened and became drowsy, and did not dance and leap as fast as before, and Preserver went further away so he would not hear too much.

Now the sun's belly was very heavy with gold, and he had begun to stoop low. He stopped a little to listen to Song humming. Rage was stumbling as he danced there, and when he tripped for a moment, the sun lifted him up and ate him whole. But the taste of Rage was very bitter, and the sun went red in the face, as red as a dying coal.

Then the sun stopped and listened to Song's melodies, and found them very sweet. Finding them sweet in his ears, he thought, 'they must also be sweet in my belly, which is all upset now that I have swallowed Rage.' So he began to eat all of Song's melodies, licking them up like sweet fruits. But his tongue burned the sounds and they became harsh.

So the sun said to Song, "Sing now inside me, to calm my belly, so that I may hear you better. For I have grown ill with what I have eaten, and will soon die." Then he swallowed Song. And when he had done so the sun grew very drowsy with the sweetness of the music, and began to cool, stooping very low and looking very red and large.

"Now I am finished. I must have one last meal before I die. I will eat that herb that grows on the lake of gold, and I will eat the great ugly one who sleeps upon it, for he is the seasoning." So the Sun ate the lily-pad on which their grandfather the Rakshasaraja was sleeping, and him he also ate. And when he had done this he lay down, so that only the top half of him was showing, and grew very dim.

Then Preserver said, “See, the sun has eaten Grandfather, and Corpse, Song and Rage also. I said that perhaps we should not have him sit with us, and they did not listen; now they are in the sun’s belly. If he dies now, will they die with him? I want to take them out from his belly before then.”

But Perfection answered, “Is the sun not very great and round, and his tongue burning like fire? You cannot find them inside his belly, because all the things that were here are inside him now, and you will be scorched before you can take out Grandfather, or Corpse, or Song, or Rage.”

Preserver went close to the sun, who was no longer bright and hot, and put his hands inside his mouth. But when he touched the sun’s tongue, his hands were scorched, and he tumbled back.

He sat and blew on his hands, which were burning hot. Perfection said to him, “Did I not tell you that the sun’s tongue burns like fire? You cannot take them out from his belly through his mouth, because the sun is round and large, and they are lost inside him; but if his belly is flat, then it can be done.”

So she went close to the sun, and she stretched and squeezed his belly, so that it would be wide and flat and not rise so high. But the sun’s belly was full of many things, and so it rose up again when she did not hold it, as if it were hanging down to the ground. So Perfection stretched and squeezed it harder and harder, and still could not make it flat.

Now the sun groaned and rolled about as Perfection squeezed his belly, but he was too round and heavy to move. And he was very ill and weak and dim. When Perfection pressed down on him with all her strength, he burst like a blister, and died.

Out came the sheep which the sun had eaten, the ewes and rams alike.

Out came the warm gold he had drunk which filled up the lake on which the sheep had been grazing.

Out came Corpse, who was dead, like him.

Out came Rage, kicking and screaming.

Out came Song, and melodies came out of her.

Out came their grandfather the Rakshasaraja, still laying atop his lily-pad, of which he was the seasoning.

The sun burst open and all these things came out of his mouth. So quickly did he spit them out that they flew far over the air. They came down a very long way away, more than ten days walk. They landed in a puddle of warm gold that had soaked the sand, and made it into a land rich and hot. And it was night-time there, because the sun was dead.

Then there was nowhere left for Perfection and Preserver to be, because the lake of gold had been drunk up, and the sun was dead. So they went to live in another place, which was called the Indias.

---

Throughout all of that, the Rakshasaraja slept fitfully, for he’d dreamt of a defiled and most unclean world indeed. All was of night-black and ash-gray and haunting yellow, as though the whole of creation was some jaundiced hide stained here and there with black ink. The skies were naught but crumbling black ichor, the wind carried the aroma of necrosis, and the only sound was that of a discordant wailing; the world itself lamented its desolation, for the Sublime had all been reduced to ruin and its Ear had been powerless to spare it from the fury of its defilers.

The Ear could hardly even remember the purity of its true and original form!

The Rakshasaraja raged against this phantasmagorical hellscape, trying to rearrange the flakes of ash fallen from the sky into something beautiful. He tried to make a gargantuan mandala upon the ground, an icon whose concentric circles depicted a grander and far purer scene, but as he toiled in that artifice the ashes rain down, and he had not gone far before the black-snow had already undone all of his progress behind.

When all the world was ash and motes of dust, there was no way of transfiguring the ruin back into anything resembling wood, let alone an unblemished forest.

So the Rakshasaraja despaired and wept. Though his two lower eyes had their vision blurred by tears, the third eye upon his brow still saw clearly, and it beheld one marvelous sight upon the far horizon that he had somehow overlooked until now. It was a single white shaft, a Pillar that was Purity.

Perhaps, he had conjured that miraculous redoubt, that one tiny bastion of beauty, through sheer force of will. Or perhaps he had simply chanced to see it for a split moment before the blackened sky rained down upon it and smothered its grace forevermore. But that did not matter, for in that same moment, the Rakshasaraja awoke, and so exuberant were his thoughts, so tangible his awe, that in his dream he had brought a man to form. He had not even spoken this creature into existence, and yet here before him was a man and a son, beautifully and perfectly formed.

As he was not word-formed, this man had not been innately named upon his birth. Yet he did have a name, or perhaps would come to know it later, and that name was Stambh.

Though Stambh was a man of sorts, and certainly one by appearance, Stambh was also different. Though far too humble to ever proclaim himself greater than any other mortal, he was certainly of a different spirit; having been fully-formed even in the very moment of his nascence, poetry was the first thing to leave his lips rather than some shrill cry.

This being the case, it was only natural that he went on to become known as a great sage.

---

When Nawal came to the land of mountains, it was empty save for the howl of the wind between the slumbering bulks of the stone giants and the creaking of snow underfoot. It still bore the traces of the bloody rain that had swept as far as the eye could see, and the peaks were mantled with dirty red like so many fields of strange flowers. This was no more than the trick of a hopeful mind - few things seemed to truly grow there, some patches of dark trees on the lower slopes, hard and grey spiny bushes clinging to the rocks, pale flowers of strange shapes dangling from sparse and steely stalks. Odd, hairy butterflies flitted between the blossoms in places where the twisting rock gave respite from the elements.

Behind him, the mountain pass loomed, steep and forbidding. The journey to reach it had been long and arduous, full of strange turns and shadowed passages, and the last stretch of climbing it had made his bare feet sore. He sat down to rest where he was, cross-legged on the rocky ground, and breathed deeply of the crisp air. Now that he was at leisure to contemplate its every detail, the view ahead was more curious even than it had seemed at first, unlike any of the ranges he had crossed in his travels.

Most of the mountains were not sloped, as it was wont to be, in the shape of sand dunes. They stood, straight and slender, like a wide forest of trees petrified by time. Their feet climbed gently up in a way that reminded Nawal of anthills, before abruptly breaking into sheer walls of stone that surged arrogantly towards the sky. Some of them were bare and impervious, forbidding to any but the most foolhardy climber. Most, however, were not as inaccessible as he had thought at first glance. There were sloping ridges on their sides where the red snow had gathered, some wide enough for a few trees to precariously cling on, winding their way upward at inconstant angles. With the trained eyes of the pilgrim, he thought he could spot the mouths of some natural caves over one of them. Enough determination, he considered, could see one to the very top of such strange peaks.

His ears caught a light rushing sound somewhere nearby. Rising to his feet, he looked to the side, where a cleft opened in the mountainside whose break he had crested. A clear stream of water rushed out from the gap, thin but gleaming with the purity that could only be born of the very ground. Nawal approached and stooped over the source. Further down, the rill was tinged with crimson where it dove into a drift of bloody snow, but here at the fount it was as clean as any water he had ever seen. Hands cupped, he drank of it, and the shivering cold that spread through him banished the last of his weariness.

The dust of the journey washed from his throat, he looked to the mountains again. The tall, straight pillars spoke to him of isolation, narrow as they were, their summits like so many tiny islands up in the boundless sea of the heavens. Up there, he thought, the air was clear and the eye unperturbed. All things would be open to one who dwelt there and had the patience to delve into the emptiness for the fruits of wisdom that grew in its depths. If one were just stubborn enough to reach so high a place.

Nawal wiped his beard, shook the cold water from his fingers, and walked on.

---

Hummus had gotten to work immediately. He had initially gathered up some straggling goblins that he hadn’t previously tilled over and tried to teach them to farm. Issues were twofold:

One, they didn’t have any horns, so how were they supposed to till? One or two tried with their hands, but the land was just too vast.

“Iz too much, Big Guy! We, we iz tired!”

The bull snorted angrily. “After a sloppy job like that? Put your backs into it!”

One of the goblins started crying. The bull rolled his eyes. “Oh please. The giants have toiled for weeks already and have you ever heard them cry?”

Two: The giants.

“AAAAAAAAH!”

“SLUPGLIP, NOOOO!” Three goblins ran over to a fourth goblin (or what remained) as a giant strolled off with a mouth full of goblin legs.

“P-p-pleaze… Tell my… Fam’hih… I…” Slupglip’s eyes rolled back. “... Luh… Bleh…”

Hacking, tearful blaring choired between the three remaining goblins. One of them grabbed a fistful of grass to blow her nose. “WHY?! He was so young - so full of hope!”

The bull was unamused. “His flesh will fertilise the soil. Now bury him!” The goblins looked on in horror.

“W-with our hands?”

The bull clapped his stalagtite club into his free palm. “... If you have alternatives, I’d find them fast…”

That was the final drop. With a harmonious scream, the three goblins got to their feet and ran off into the woods. The bull let out a groan and rolled his eyes. He slumped over the bank of a nearby river and picked up a nearby boulder. With an absent-minded toss, he skipped it across the surface, sending small tsunamis in all direction with each splat. The boulder finally crashed into the opposite bank a few hundred metres away. The bull sighed. Had he been too harsh? Had his didactics been lacking? Perhaps it was the tool issue, in the end? After thinking about it long and hard, he nodded. It had to be a tool issue.

Just as he reached that conclusion, a small group of beastmen staggered out of the woods, their fresh birth confusing them to the point of drunkenness. The bull didn’t care much for their shapes or phenotype; he already had a different one in mind. He rocketed to his feet, thundered over and grabbed one beastman by the face.

“H-hey, what th–HMMPH! MMMPH! MMMAAAAAAAAAH!” The screams were unbearable, enough to rip the remaining beastmen out of their trance. But they couldn’t run; their feet wouldn’t let them. A crimson, wicked light blasted from his palm and deep into the face of their comrade, casting a blood-like shadow over the minotaur’s form. The beastmen may be beasts, but before them stood The Beast, a veritable shaitan and the most gruesome being they had laid their eyes on. With time and morbid curiosity, their gazes shifted to their comrade again. His small body grew tall and fat; arms swelled with muscle; feet became cloven hooves; what hair had been on the head coalesced into a stiff, fuzzy mane that ran down the back; the shoulders swallowed the neck and pulled closer to the chest; finally, the face grew long and tusked. When the transformation was complete, the bull dropped the creature to the ground and admired his creation.

“Yes… You will till the soil well.”

What stood up from the ground horrified the onlookers. It stood almost two metres and was over half its height in width, bulging with muscle, fat and cartilage. A shovel-like snout with massive tusks grew out of its face like a trunk, and its main strutted with hormonal rage. Like a predator on the hunt, the beast immediately descended to all fours and charged at the soil behind the bull, using its powerful neck muscles as a lever for its snout plow. It fed on the roots and fungus underground and, almost instinctively, saved some for planting afterwards. The only beastfolk felt fear pump strength back into their legs, but escape was impossible – the bull had turned his gaze back to them again.

“... And now for the rest of you…”

---

Time passed, and the territorial snouters soon spread out across the whole of the Striped Lands and beyond. Sometimes they met other races and settled near them peacefully (for now); sometimes they came to blows. Sometimes these blows led to victory; other times, the snouters were whipped back to whence they came. Their expansion was a constant tug of war with internal power struggles and infighting, which would lead to blood feuds and raids between villages. As months became years, the snouters had gathered into tribes which had settled into farmsteads raising crops like yams, spelt, emmer, corn, roots and leafy greens. One tribe in particular, the Voots, had settled by the river they called the Lick. Here, the Voots had found a veritable eden. The river curled and curved in scenic slopes, and the land around it was fresh and fertile. Mineral-rich mud from the river could be extracted and mixed into the soil to boost vegetable growth further. The Voots grew to become a mighty tribe in the region, and the spring feasts of winter roots and vegetable sprouts were legendary in the area. There, raging, hormonal hesnouters would rip each other to shreds over the hands of the finest shesnouters.

“HEAR ME, ANAT’AA!” roared Drukpuul the Fat. He was an elephant of a hesnouter, standing nearly three metres tall and blocking the boiling sunlight for much of the crowd. He raised his arms to the sky and shook with seizuric movements, eyes rolling back in a berserking trance. “LIGHT MY FIRE – INFERNALISE MY SOUL! HELP ME SWALLOW LIFE AS YOU DO!”

“HEAR ME, MISRI!” bellowed his opponent, Four-Tooth Zkrooth, swinging his club around with reckless abandon. “BLOOD WILL BE SPILLED IN YOUR NAME TODAY! FILL ME WITH YOUR FURY SO I MAY FILL YOUR OCEAN! RAAAAAAARGH!”

From outside the ring, hundreds of hesnouters were squealing and beating their chests (and each other) in rabid support of their respective favourites. Curses and death-wishes were spat between crowd and gladiators in broad daylight like they were ragged breaths. As the gladiators unleashed their rage upon one another, the crowd collectively cheered their bloodlust to the blue-domed heavens, the hot wind of the coming summer rolling over them in a tide of sweat and temper.

It was a weakling among them that saw it. Spregk by name, he was the smallest of a litter of four brothers, almost a runt. Stupid and frail, the mob of grunting, squealing hesnouters was the only place he could ever let loose his rage at how he had been born, the injustice of his existence, without being walloped by his elders and juniors alike, and even shesnouters at times.

As his heart strained and his body heat climbed steadily over the point of no return, the violence of the crowd grew fuzzy in Spregk's flapping ears, the sound slowly subsumed by a singular ringing. He staggered. He felt drunk, as though he had eaten ten-day-old fruits. Everything blurred. He saw double.

Spregk's head lolled up to the sun above, and he saw its true face.

"HOW HOT AND PUNGENT YOU SNOUTERS ARE," said the smiling sun. "YOU CRY TO EVERY GOD BUT THE ONE WHO RISES BEFORE YOU. TODAY I WILL COOL YOUR BROW AND WASH YOU CLEAN. AND YOU WILL REMEMBER ME."

There was another sound, rising up behind them. It was hidden under the roar of the brawling crowd. In his delirium Spregk could no longer hear them, but he could feel this. It was coming close.

"YOU WILL REMEMBER ITZALA."

It was the Lick. The river was surging, rising up like a farm-canal overfilled, a great muddy rush. Spregk saw tall, big snouters waist-deep in the water. He saw them screaming but did not hear them. The masses didn't even look- their backs were turned to the river.

"I MELTED THIS ICE JUST FOR YOU, SPREGK. IT CAME A LONG WAY FROM THE POLAR SEA. YOU WERE LOOKING SO THIRSTY."

The first mud-brick hovel collapsed in the flood, reduced to wet straw and sludge. Spregk saw a nursing mother torn from her snoutlets by the force of the current.

"AREN'T YOU GRATEFUL?"

---

The bend in the river that had caught the corpses would later be called Blowfly Gulch, so many were the stinking cadavers heaped up by the flood. Rotting flesh sloughed from their bones and pooled together, seeping rancid greenish juice and maggots, polluting the Lick for a mile. In this bend alone lay hundreds, and thousands more were starving for want of unspoiled grain. Everything they had was rotten: their food, their clothes, their guts, their spirits. No tribe, storm, or giant had ever slain so many Voots, so quickly, as the First Great Flood.

And yet, despite the veritable calamity that had reduced the Voots from a dominant power in the region to a flea no bigger than the likes of the Dapps or the Quoms, this did not deter new settlers from claiming land by the Lick; in fact, with the Voots out of the way, more tribes poured into the valley like it was a flood all over. Tribes like the Pates, the Croopuls, the Nu-Voots and the Vlokks (to name a few) tilled and fought over the ruins of Vootland.

The bull, who had decided to pass the spring in the area, had heard about the calamity and journeyed across the rolling fields to the broken land. On his travels, he had encountered small Voot enclaves of vagabonds and ruffians, shadows of greatness who robbed hunters and farmers for a living. To him, they pleaded, begged - why had the calamity struck? What had been different? What in their traditions had upset Itzala so?

“Fools!” the bull had shouted to the cowering masses. “To think my powers conceived such mindless bumpkins!” He had slapped the nearest unfortunate soul so hard the boar fellow had crashed to the ground. “Have the shelves of fat you call a forehead blinded you completely?! Itzala obviously did this for one reason!”

The fearful onlookers had awaited the answer with baited breath. The bull had scowled them all into the soil and clenched his fist in front of him.

“You forsook farming for fighting!” With that, the bull had conjured forth his trusty stalactite, which since last time had acquired a shovel-like head fashioned from dense, broad bone. The snouters shuddered as one when they saw it. Its likeness had been quoted in stories whispered ominously by the riverside, tall tales spun by only the most tabloid of daffotales:

The Hoepebreaker.

The fear took stronger root. There were many snouter shoulders in that hoe head. The bull had then, with a single strike of his weapon, turned all but one of the refugees into black, fertile soil, the kind which would have taken centuries to cultivate. To the final survivor, a small and hapless shesnouter, he had given a message:

“Tell the valley to never give up the field for glory ever again. I will be watching.”

After sending her on the way screaming, the bull had turned his eyes to the sky. Raising his hoe to the heavens, he shouted, “ITZALA! I know you’re hiding in that burning lake! Show yourself!”

The day dimmed, as though under cloud, though there was none. The rich black earth dried and cracked, and the cracks spoke with the voices of the snouters that had died to produce it. "Ah, Hummusaharrqawatrr, you old cow… there is no lake. No glittering stellar pasture in heaven for you to return to. The dreams of infancy are far behind us now. I have found richer waters." The clay smiled, its cracks growing broader at his hooves, a ragged net with Hummus at its center. "They were having such fun, Hummus. How cruel of you to snatch that away!"

"Yeah? Well… Shut up!" started the bull and then paused. The pause overshot the rhythm of a good follow-up, but eventually he added. "Now listen here, you clod! They deserved it. Even a flood is just temporary - get up, shake off the water and go back to the field. If you can't do that, you have no place being a farmer." The bull gave a normative snort and patted the head of his hoe into his free palm.

"Indeed. A flood is merely a passing thing… for the survivors." The earth contorted in a drunken swirl, faces of the myriad dead rising and sinking under the mud.
"And there will always be survivors, a new generation to till the mud their mothers died in. To till and till and never escape the wrath of my capricious river… You have cursed these people far more terribly than I. Fret not, young ox! I come to congratulate you, not chastise you."

The bull snarled, but lowered his hoe. With a sharp glare, he raised a finger and stuck it in a nostril to dig around. "You have an odd manner of congratulations," he muttered. A booger the size of a grape stuck to his finger nail and was promptly smeared across his front teeth. "But thanks. I do try."

The words hung limply under a hot bright sun. Summer heat rose from the dry black soil. There was no one there but the bull. He looked around and blinked. With a disappointed huff, he shuffled off with a sneer on his lips.

"That damn sun…"

Among a myriad of twinkling stars, a deity drifted, his silhouette framed against the vast, inky expanse of the Material Realm. His gaze was fixed upon a far-off solar system where a star, its life extinguished in a brilliant burst of supernova, sprinkled stardust across the void.

"Ah… beautiful, yet bittersweet…” The deity murmured soft words, a blend of reverence and remembrance, as he witnessed the celestial dance of destruction and creation—the very essence of existence. The explosion echoed through the vast silence, a lonely yet magnificent spectacle; it was the divine paradox of endings paving the way for beginnings. The deity’s heart trembled with a sweet melancholy that resonated with the rhythm of the cosmos.

As the remnants of the star dispersed, his focus gently swiveled, drawn towards the core of another, yet equally fascinating, solar system—the very same realm where the other deities had chosen to cast their essence first. Among them, the sun god Itzala, whose brilliance lit the marbled spheres above, reigned luminous over one particular planet. Itzala’s presence within the host star of this system had not gone unnoticed by the deity, yet the radiance of The Sun failed to capture his attention at that very moment; the deity’s eyes narrowed as he beheld the peculiar desert planet the gods had chosen to seed with life, its orbit a slow dance between itself and Itzala’s radiant star.

With a thought, his vision tunneled through the cold void, descending through the veil of atmosphere that cloaked the nascent world. His sight pierced through swirling sands and rocky bedrock as though they were but mist, plunging into the depths to observe a peculiar mycelium lifeform extending its tendrils through the underworld in a quest for sustenance. At the sight, a slight smile of satisfaction softly etched itself across his ethereal features. “It is coming along nicely now.”

Then, with a slow exhale, his focus widened once again, soaring upwards through the crust and over the stark landscape. His gaze was drawn to a massive crater nestled at the planet’s equator, its heart filled with the crystal-clear essence of life—water. Amidst the serene liquid mirror, an island held dominion, crowned by a majestic tree of apparent divine origin. Its leaves whispered divine truths to the winds that caressed its boughs, its roots delved deep, merging with the very soul of the previously barren world. This same tree was something his gaze could not pierce through, yet the deity could feel a familiar resonance coming from deep within its bowels—the Khodex of Creation was hiding somewhere inside.

“I should take a closer look at this at some point,” he thought, making a mental note to visit Allianthe’s grove later. “However it is good to see others prioritizing the safety of the Khodex.” As the deity’s eyes traced the land, they followed a divine river that encircled the equator with purposeful grace; the flow of life-giving waters embraced the cradle of life in the middle with a tender caress, splitting to circle around the serene pool before reuniting in harmony on the other side. Two peculiar statues helped with this separation, undoubtedly an intervention of one of the other deities. “I wonder where this river originates from,” the deity thought, before promptly acting on said thought, sizing down and teleporting right on the planet’s surface.

As the deity materialized upon the arid lands, a swirl of dust heralded his arrival. The sky overhead was a tapestry of daylight, the Sun's rays casting long shadows over the dusty terrain. It was a quiet realm, the stillness only interrupted by the occasional whisper of the wind carrying the scent of a bountiful future. This place, though barren, bore a silent promise of vitality and potential—a canvas awaiting the divine stroke of creation.

With a gentle levitation, he ascended from the gritty sand, his form gliding smoothly over the calm, reflective surface of the river stretching out from the crater. The deity allowed himself to be drawn towards the river’s origin, his form casting a long, slender shadow over the water as he moved effortlessly against the wind, tracing the river's course as it meandered through the desolate landscape. The riverbanks were like veins of hope in an otherwise lifeless body, hosting a modest array of plant life that clung to the essence of existence the waters provided. The stark contrast of barren desert and the verdant banks was a testament to the transformative touch of divine essence.

The deity’s voyage led him across the face of the barren world, the sun god’s light diminishing as he approached the other hemisphere. The sight that awaited him was a stark contrast to the desolate landscape he had traversed. Here, upon the horizon, seven magnificent waterfalls cascaded from ethereal wounds in the atmosphere, their waters plunging into the world with a grace that seemed to defy the laws of the Material Realm. Above, sky islands floated with a gentle serenity, cradling rivers of their own that connected one fall to another. Below, whimsical blooms adorned the entirety of the riverland, banks and wetland alike, dancing flowers swaying to the divine rhythm of creation. Their petals seemed to narrate the lore of the land, a symphony of colors in a stark desert.

He descended amidst the blooms, their gentle swaying a silent greeting to the deity. The flowers, sentient in their divine essence, fluttered with a soft giggle, their whispers a playful melody.

"O traveler of the stars, bearer of ancient scars~" one began, its voice a tender ripple across the water.

"Our birth from celestial showers, in Tuuni’s tender hours~” another chimed in, its voice a melodious echo.

Amused and intrigued, the deity inquired, "Tell me, blooms of wonder, what name bears this land, where rivers from heaven meander?”

In a playful cadence, they sang, “Shangshi La, a realm so grand, where rivers by Tuuni’s hand, carve through desert’s golden sand~”

“And of these rivers, numbered seven, what names bear the breaths of heaven?”

With a graceful sway, they narrated the names, each flower taking a turn in a playful game, “Hermes, Xiaoli, Shangshi, they flow, K'nell, Apostate, with Lorelei in tow, and Benea’s gentle whisper, a celestial glow~"

It was then that the deity, aglow in the subtle, ethereal light his divine aura emitted, began to notice a fading color in the blooms around him. His presence held an, undoubtedly, corrosive effect, wilting the effervescent souls of the blossoms. Yet their song of Shangshi La carried on, their voices braiding through the air with a mystical charm.

Observing the withering petals, the deity spoke with a voice tinged with melancholy, "Oh blooms of innocence, my essence seems to corrode your tender being. Why don't you retreat to a safer haven?”

The flowers, in a symphony of harmonies, continued their lyrical tale, each note a blend of joy and eerie acceptance, “Shangshi La, a kingdom where dreams take flight, amidst the cosmic night~”

Intrigued yet troubled, the deity pressed further, "I see your sacrifice, yet why do you linger in my poisonous wake? Flee, and save our essence for the morrow.”

A blossom, its color almost drained yet voice clear as the heavenly river, replied, “O divine entity, we were birthed by Tuuni’s decree, to narrate the grace of Shangshi La to thee. Our existence is but a fleeting whisper, a ripple in the world river’s gleam~”

“And fear not,” another added, its petals drooping in humble submission, “For we are but few of the myriad blooms that line the banks of the world river, our voices will carry forth in a boundless quiver~”

“And though we wither in your midst,” a third chimed, its voice a ghostly mist, “Our duty we have not dismissed. The tale of Shangshi La, through ages will persist~”

With a soft hum of gratitude, the deity whispered to the blooms, “Your tale is a gentle stroke on the vast canvas of existence, yet your sacrifice makes your lives a poignant note in the symphony of the cosmos.” With those final words, he vanished from the face of Shangshi La, a faint trail of cosmic dust marking his departure.

Once more amidst the cosmos, the deity found himself drifting in the silent expanse, the desert planet a distant gleam against the backdrop of the stars. In his mind, the fleetingness of the blooms’ existence, their ephemeral dance with destiny, mirrored the fragile yet resilient spirit of mortality. The deity mused upon the grand tapestry of existence, where each thread of life, however frail, contributed to the cosmic narrative. He found a strange kinship with the fleeting blossoms, their essence a brief, beautiful note in the timeless melody of the Universe.

As the deity’s thoughts entwined with the stars’ distant glow, a profound realization blossomed within his ethereal heart. Each life held a spark of the divine, a soft glimmer in the endless night, and yet, the vastness of creation often left them adrift in the cosmic seas. It was then that his heart swayed with a newfound resolve; a guiding light was essential, a shepherd amidst the stars to lead the way in a potential divine absence. And what better luminous entities to assume this role than the stars themselves—the suns that illuminated the realms of existence.

It was perfect, really; a network of guardians to watch over said realms, to nurture, guide, teach, and maybe even punish. The stars, the suns of myriad solar systems, appeared as the perfect sentinels. They were the constant companions of planets, the silent witnesses to the unfolding array of life. He stood still and silent for a few moments, his mind racing through a myriad calculations, making sure every aspect of this vision, slowly crystallizing within his divine mind, could be brought into reality without any mistakes. Then, with a breath imbued with divine intent, the deity extended his essence into the Astral Realm, his will weaving through the celestial veil. As his thoughts resonated through the boundless expanse, the astral fabric quivered, ready to embrace change.

His will flowed like a silken thread, weaving through the very foundation of the Astral, embroidering the laws of—what he would eventually come to call—the Luminary System into the cosmic expanse. The deity meticulously crafted the pathways of awakening; each stroke of intent detailed the process through which a star, with its passive interaction with the Astral Realm’s own energy, could transcend its physical existence, birthing a consciousness that resonated with the lives it nurtured. Painting the astral with delicate strokes, he went on to establish the symbiotic bond that would exist between the so-called Luminary and the beings of its domain. He envisioned a grand network, an astral web through which Luminaries could share wisdom, experiences, and perhaps even the whispers of love that bloomed on the planets they safeguarded. This network would echo with the collective aspirations, hopes, and fears of the Universe, a grand narrative shared amongst the stars.

The deity did not forget to include ways through which Luminaries could communicate with the beings of their domains, such as dreams, visions, or perhaps the gentle caress of a breeze carrying whispers of guidance. He saw Luminaries altering planetary conditions, orchestrating favorable environments for life to flourish, their consciousness a gentle tide that could sway the destinies of worlds. He also intricately wove the mechanism of a Luminary’s rebirth. As he threaded this rule into the astral fabric, he envisioned the Luminary's consciousness, upon the physical star’s demise, ascending within the Astral Realm, embarking on a cosmic voyage to infuse its essence into a dormant seed—that of a star hosting life within its system—and thus birthing a fresh cycle of guardianship.

With a flourish of cosmic intent, the deity laid down the final strokes of this new edict into the astral weave. Each rule, each amendment, had been meticulously crafted, a testament to his divine foresight. As the last filaments of his new design intertwined with the astral fabric, a profound stillness enveloped the Astral Realm—a moment of silent anticipation, as if the cosmos held its breath, awaiting the dawn of a new order. Then, like the gentle beat of a cosmic heart, a powerful ripple emanated from the core of his being, cascading through the boundless expanse of the Astral Realm. It was a pulse of divine essence, a herald of change that reverberated through the very core of the Astral. As the ripple coursed through the astral fabric, a profound transformation unfolded.

Amidst the shadowy veils of the Astral Realm, nascent stars began to manifest, appearing like tender buds in a celestial garden awaiting the dawn. Each star was but an echo, a silent promise of the luminous guardians that would one day emerge. Yet, for now, they remained dormant, their light a soft whisper in the parallel void. These astral echoes were the silent testament to the deity's vision—a network of guardians ready to awaken with the stir of consciousness.

The deity gazed upon the ethereal stars, a soft glow of satisfaction radiating from his visage. The Luminary System was now sewn into the fabric of existence, its potential a silent hum in the cosmic harmony. As the deity beheld the slowly forming astral constellations before him, he knew that a grand chapter in the cosmic narrative had been forever etched.

El’zadir finally stepped out of the tree life she sighed looking back at the elfs she helped uplift for life was a task already done. Her instinct new drew to the gift she received in the form of the dwarfs. She soon began to walk down the large vines that covered the tree of life so large that were more like wooden trunks.

Reverion had spent most of the time underground amidst his creations, watching the creatures gradually become less thick headed through trial and error. But this had been fine, his attention soon however was set upon exploring the large piece of dirt. If that was the right way to describe the world of Galbar.

His eyes wandered, and it didn't wander long, for sticking out like a sore thumb was a gigantic tree.

"Oh? What manner of thing is this? Someone else is spreading their wings. Well then. I'd better go and say hello." He mused as he allowed his large blackened wings to spread as he took flight very quickly towards the tree, using his initial jump to propel him through the air like a cannonball. He had wrapped his wings around him to further amplify the speed and when he touched down on the little landing plateau of the tree of life it was done with a crashing sound. Various black feathers would softly dangle down towards the ground towards the figure which was now wrapped fully in his dark feathery wings.

He opened his glowing eyes and scanned what was before him. This thing was... incomplete. This large construct. It was like many of his creations, flawed. Abit of unlife would do it well, but such would have to wait until later. For someone else who was present.

"My my, what have we here then? You do not appear to be a mortal, are you the one who raised this... construct? I must say you are less... concealed than I thought one would be." Reverion's eyes wandered over El'Zadir's form, taking in every detail of it.

"Not that I complain about the sight, it is simply... otherworldly." He stepped forwards, his taloned toes clicking on the wooden 'floor', his wings gradually spreading to reveal his entire form, with one of his wings reaching out to almost attempt to wrap around El'Zadir. "Such beauty should not be for mortal eyes to behold, lest they prove themselves worthy. What is your name? I am Reverion, he whom reveres all things which grow into greater things..." He softly mused and formed a smile.

El’zadir stood in place seeing Reverion, the wind being quite strong for her. As she stepped back looking back again she could see the deity in front of her. She stood for several moments thinking before saying. “Hello… well i am El’zadir goddess of civilization and order.” She seemed quite stunning as the wind’s parted.

"Pleasure is all mine~ El'zadir, as a token from one like yourself, here take this as a gift from me to you..." He reached for the finest feather on his wings and plucked it, holding it up with just two of his fingers, before twirling it around abit, creating a mantle of black feathers.

"While this cannot compare to the obsidian hue of your precious shell, perhaps it shall nonetheless the eyes of the unworthy quell." He softly mused as he stepped forwards, circling around her as he attempted to put the cloak over her shoulders and carefully tie it with a strand taken from his own hair.

The god of undeath smiled faintly. "I am the god of mortals which seek to exist as long as we gods can. To give them the gift of... not facing oblivion. For to have something, will always be better than to have nothing... isn't that so?" He softly walked around her and reached out with his taloned finger, seeking to place one of his fingers under her chin to lift it up abit.

"There's beauty even in flawed things, but you are no such thing. You are indeed perfect, let us find those which are not and see what can be done to improve on it hm? If you seek to build this world up, allow me to be your closest companion. My talons may be sharp, but wouldn't you say it's better to have things which are sharp, rather than things which are dull and blunted? I can imagine there has to be some amongst our kind whose not been blessed with such refined... capabilities." He softly said as his eyes stared into El'Zadir's.

As he looked back he soon froze noticing El’Zadir’s face seemed to blush extremely to even steam seemed to leave as she was quite flustered in her mind she thought. “He is courting me? God's court for each other?” She opened her mouth only saying. “Mhmm…” Continuing to blush this was rather not normal; she knew the concept of love and as such. Leaving generally for mortals to figure out the rituals around it. But in her mind gods were more tied to their duties meeting life and death this seemed like a case. There was an oddity in them but undeath the opposite of death but not the same as life wouldn’t behave as such she thought. At the same time she didn’t expect gods to also have romantic feelings for eachother as her domain seemed to take more hold into her to just work. She kept on hold of the feathered coat Reverion gave to her the only words she could say blushing and with a much more meak voice. “Thank… you…”

The blackwinged god allowed himself a soft upturn at the corner of his mouth.

"You are most welcome.I think red suits you well too, El'Zadir, It makes me wonder what is on your mind... go on.. tell me..." He gave a smug smirk, reaching out with his taloned finger, trying to twirl her hair abit. "How about you and I working a bit together? Think of the great things one may accomplish? The world could use more order and become less... primal. To become more like you and I. How about you accompany me to the place where my mortal creations dwell? They would surely serve your designs as well as mine..." He walked up and blew some air into El'Zadir's ear, reaching out to try to trace the smooth back of his taloned finger along her neck.

"But I think you also could answer a few questions of mine, have you met others akin to us? And what do you know of this... vast... construct?" Reverion stretched out one of his wings to point towards the large tree.

"The more we know the more it affects our judgements, to delve too deeply for knowledge may corrupt you, yet find yourself lacking in too much as you'll be foolish. So.. how about we both experience things together hm? In an orderly and civilized manner? To better predict the future of this... world and all things within and outside of it. Whatever there may be." He stepped up and attempted to pick up her hand, with his taloned hand.

“i… i… i… i…” She replied first before shaking her head, her cheeks still blushing heavily. “Oh this place was made by Allianthé goddess of life.” She replied in quite speed after her question she then continued. “But its also the home of the god of death and no besides they and you i haven’t met anyone else…” Her blush continued the same after his offerings of going with her she then said. “I… I… I… I might be inexperienced a lot but i don’t think i need to give so much trouble to you… he~ he~” She continued blushing heavily averting gaze hoping that such would die down the feelings she felt. It was quite shameful but also interesting and exciting to feel this for the first time. But she also didn’t felt like she should be feeling like this.

"Goddess of life hm? Life is the birth, but it isn't the final form of existing. Death is the end, the oblivion beyond and should be avoided if possible. For whom would ever chose to be nothing compared to be something? To protect and serve life, one must.. evolve it into undeath. To avoid simply becoming nothing. I am sure it must be as frightening for the mortals as it would be for the gods, to think of returning to which was before us." Reverion spoke softly as he pondered on the existence of the two other gods, that they would somehow be working together? How could such be when one stood as desiring the opposite of the other?

"Thank you, El'Zadir for telling me these things... how may I return such a favor hm?" He leaned in closer, his eyes wandering over her obsidian skin and looking into her eyes. "Your mouth seems to be having some... difficulties. It is slipping. Perhaps I can help you with that?" He gave a soft smile, slightly amused as he reached out again to try cup her chin. "Inexperience hm? Well, sometimes trial and error is a way of learning, no? At least that is what I have learnt by watching my creations, alongside others.. vivid yet orderly things. But one thing at a time, let me see if I can help you with the trembling... perhaps this will do the trick." He leaned in and attempted to kiss her directly on her divine lips, his blackened wings rising and almost engulfing the area around the duo.

The immediate approach and attempt at kissing sended shivers but also froze her in place as the lips began to get extremely close. She soon snapped and soon Raverion could feel the impact of an extreme punch sending him flying by her as she was still blushing. After the impact and as he flew in the sky she then shouted. “I’m sorry!” She didn’t want to punch him just to not do it.

Bloodbeak was busy investigating his fellow fowlfolk in Harrowfane when all of a sudden a section of the large cave gave in and their god, praised by his unholy self, came crashing... crashing? He had landed.

"My lord! Our lord has come! Kneel and praise him! Give us your divine command!" Bloodbeak cawed out to the flocking fowlfolk.

Reverion sat up as the smoke settled, his taloned finger reaching up to his face. "Hm. Not bad." He said to himself, the goddess had indeed some physical strength. "Impressive. Bloodbeak. Fix the ceiling. I am having some... civilized differences with another of my kind." Reverion brushed off his feathers and then leapt back out through the hole in the cave, up into the air and landed back at the tree again.

"That wasn't very orderly of you, El'Zadir. You might have harmed one of the mortals by relocating my body across the skies. Your strength is impressive however, perhaps it may be enough to keep your lips from being all shaky." He smiled softly and wiped off some dust from his feathered wings and attire. "I did get abit dusty however. Perhaps a bath would be useful, care to join me?" The blackwinged figure asked, with a smug smile.

El’Zadir took a second look, surprised he returned quite fast. She was still blushing but once he offered the bath she soon after taking a quite long breath said. “No…” She stood still for a few moments before breathing out again after holding for a moment she then said. “You are sweet… but you are going fast…”

"Sweet hm? How would you know, when you eluded me so well?" He softly chuckled as he wandered up closer again, his clawed feet tapping the floor.

"But as you wish. I shall be... slower with you. But afraid I cannot give the luxury to the rest of the world. Who knows how many more of our ilk that came to be? And just what are they up to at this very moment? I am convinced there's some out there who would like nothing more than to see everything... gone. Much to the appease of this god of death no doubt. Ahh, but you can aid in stopping much of the plans of these others if you aid the mortals and yourself ofcourse. Ward yourself well, there are those who would try to use your divine power for their own wicked ambitions, not to worry. I will not let them have their way. So if you are not in for a bath, then tell me, what is it that you would do instead?" He softly smiled, tilting his head to the side slightly, very crow-like.

She tilted her head hearing what he said was a possibility of being used due to her powers. What would people even use her for? she was the goddess of civilization and by that extent order she brought to the primal world. That was mostly it but he had gave her a bit of a warning she kept on looking to the horizon she then said. “Well i was gonna go continue my duty as my dominion demands of me”

"Well then, why don't we work together hm? Surely you wouldn't mind that right? And what your dominion demand? Have you no will of your own? Look out there, the world and all of existence as we know it... are ours for grasp. Much like the mortals will grasp for something, so must we. How about you come with me to my creations? Perhaps you find it to your liking. It would be a good experience at the very least..."

He offered a sly smile as he stepped up next to her. "Shall I carry you there?" He made a dramatic spread of his wings, like a male bird displaying it's many colors to it's mate. But in his case. There were no colors.

She felt odd and awkward being bombarded by questions that he proposed to her and she felt strange as well. Many of then were rather interesting as view points especially since he seemed to barely resemble his dominion’s personality or at least what she imagined. But his request about helping him with his creation his people need a bit of help she soon said. “Sure?” It was the closest she could get to an answer especially with how she felt in the moment.

Reverion leaned down briefly and swept El'Zadir up in a princess carry. "Best hold on tight, don't want you slipping. You can do that right?" His glowing eyes looked to hers and then he leapt up into the air, his wings spreading wide as he began to fly towards the claimed land of the fowlfolk. Harrowfane.

Upon seeing the vast cave and it's various entrances, he noticed that the hole, in which he had ungracefully flown through earlier, was not fully repaired. It would serve as a swifter point of entry than the usual entrance. The god and the goddess he carried in his arms crashed through the ceiling.

The fowlfolk began to rush back and forth, cawing and screeching until their leader would take notice and shush them, calling out. "It's our lord! He has come back! With a mate! Praise the lord of Neverdust!" Bloodbeak raised his taloned hand and chanted, and was soon followed by the others.

"Bloodbeak." Reverion said in a stern tone, his voice echoing.

"We shall prepare for your mate, master! Your great chamber shall be expanded!" Bloodbeak explained in an eccentric and eager tone.

"Bloodbeak! This is not my mate." He said sternly, then gave El'Zadir a look. "At least not yet.” Then his gaze fell back to Bloodbeak. "You may resume repairs. And inform everyone that none is to bother this goddess. She is free to go as she pleases." Reverion explained as he softly let El'Zadir down to the ground.

"Y-yes my lord! You heard our master! Go and repair it! Shut your beaks and move those feet!" Bloodbeak yelled out to the other fowlfolk.

"Welcome, El'Zadir. Welcome to Harrowfane, home to the barrow-birds, the fowlfolk. I made them in my image, not fully so. If I had seen you before, I may have made them in yours. Would have been fair no?" He smiled.

“They seem very similar to you indeed…” She said to him looking courteous even after staring at him when hearing the words mate. She then took a look around walking towards the fowl folk exhibiting a few friendly gestures they seem to take her as quite a friend almost immediately. She seemed to have a large charisma as his people seemed to like her already being curious about her.

"You seem to have a fine hand with younger beings, perhaps you've ought to bear offspring of your own." He softly mused. "A mother of civilization, of order and therefor... existence as a whole. For what good can there be in complete and utter chaos? And without civilization, beings would be unable to proceed onwards towards the place of their longing. Bloodbeak, the one bearing the crown is the first of the undying. He is similar to us, not a god however. But his existence is between life and death itself. The others have yet to be given such a boon, however some of them are displaying... talents for various things, and talent must always be rewarded. For it is the reward which many things crave is it not? Not the journey, but the destination. What is your destination, El'Zadir? In my own case, I seek to ward this world, our... sphere of influence if you so wish, from those which seek to destroy it. That is my primary desire and purpose. So it comes naturally for me to want to protect such a wonderful beauty like yourself from others whose designs are far more vile." Reverion explained and motioned with his taloned hand, inspecting the somewhat crude artwork the fowlfolk had drawn on the cave walls of him. But it wasn't the result that mattered in this case, it was the effort.

"I have put in a fountain which nourishes them, to save them from having to go and kill things. Death is not the solution, it's more akin to a resolution. To simply... dissolve." He motioned to the meat and blood spewing fountain which many fowlfolk were grabbing food from happily.

"I trust you will not reveal to any other of our kind the location of these mortals, they must be warded til they are stronger. Others may otherwise try influence, defile and corrupt these... peaceful things." Reverion said as he watched a young fowlfolk draw a drawing on the cave wall of what could only be described as Bloodbeak holding a spoon of bonding and acting as a communer between two non-descript gods. Would he have had a more keen eye for art, he may have believed it to actually be himself and El'Zadir being depicted.

"Mostly peaceful." He added.

“It's close to where I was…” She said out loud looking in the direction she remembered this area. She has been close by planning something for this region before being whisked away by death.

“Where you were? Go on.” Reverion motioned with his taloned hand for El'Zadir to continue. "Tell me more..." His eyes latched on to Bloodbeak momentarily who was gathering what looked like a regiment of Fowlfolk in a line. Things were starting to take shape. The god of undeath was pleased.

She seemed to ignore his question as she soon shouted. “I need 200 strong men, women tanning and already there is work to be done.” The fowlfolk all bowed to her following her command. As she began to work her duty cracking her fists heading to start working with Reverion reneging to watching as she began to intrust and seemingly take over the entire society with barely any resistance.

She didn’t just stop at the place where he landed with her as she seemed to influence even those further away as her work began. A clock moving forward in tick and tack, she soon teaches them how to tame the animals of the greenery that formed upon the new rivers sprouting around the land. The animals were large but easy to be domesticated with a few of their children taken and raised by then. At the same time she began teaching them how to carve the stone of their underground homes into more complex ways at the same time helping them rise up from the ground. Into towns and cities in the wastes as the people grew, helping them also organize in the lands from living in small groups into living large groups.

As time grew on she also taught what she teached to the southern goblins she helped to find copper veins underground to take the copper, smelt it and turn into new tools and materials using the copper. At the same time the race was very dependent on meat and flesh so she trained then using better tactics a race of hunters and warriors they would become over time. A culture dedicated to the hunting and worship of their father god while hiding in the darkness in more dense towns on the surface while some of their homes were underground. But also people that had buildings that were more shut in.

Reversion sat on a stone throne ornate with copper decorations as El’zadir wrote a series of laws asking his advice since he ruled over his people together with blood beak. The transformation was quite fast for him as it seemed like a blink of an eye had passed. At least things were more interesting as some of Harrowfane now fought with copper weapons below she soon said. “Stealing of the imperial crown jewels as you describe your throne is punished by death then…”

"Ahh.. you've certainly brought change... well.. I thought you said I was too hasty? And then.. I look at.. this. Not that I am complaining. Speaking of the crown jewels, suffice to say I think that would be fine in your care. But you should take a little time off now, just briefly. How may I show my appreciation to your hard work hm?" Reverion said softly, leaning in over El'Zadir's shoulder.

“Perhaps by offering some hard work of my own…” He gave a sly smirk to the dark skinned goddess.

She stopped for a moment thinking for several minutes before saying. “well i had that thing with…” She then shot up after stopping shouting. “CURSES!” drawing the attention of all in the room she sighed walking down the steps saying. “I forgot about the dwarfs… I need to go…”

"What... if I may ask... is a dwarf? Is it something edible?" Reverion asked with some surprise. “Also why don’t you make yourself at home here after your… dwarf business is concluded? There will be enough space, and besides.. wouldn’t you enjoy company that talks of similar things? And not hitting each other with wood? Not saying that my creations, with your aided guidance, are violent at all. They may however not be quite like the two of us, just yet. I expect to see you soon. Anew.”

“They are a gift given to me, a race of short people without a home to live and also because the entire planet is already very occupied and I am in charge of them.” She said as both left through the front door walking through the hallways of the town as he proposed living with him she then said. “Sounds good but I have a duty to uphold and my domain calls for me. My duty is not to sit in the things I build and wait, it is to spread the gift of civilization to progress to all corners of the planet.’

"A race without a home to exist in. I suppose they are not too different from us then? We too had no home, til this one came along. Yet even you must recuperate at times and enjoy existance, if there's something watching my fowlfolk has taught me is that life, or in this particular case, existance is meant to be cherished, for it is everything, and death is nothing. After all, why else exist at all hm? Think about it will you? We may teach the mortals plenty, but they in turn shall also teach us. Remember that El'Zadir, that you too may evolve. As may I." He smiled softly and then leaned in to whisper a few non-orderly things into her ear not meant for mortal ears. "Well, you know where to find me, goddess of beauty and order." He smirked.

She stopped as the doors of the palace opened and she stopped to think before saying. “Thank you…” she soon began to walk away as walking staff suddenly manifested as she headed northwest. The sands feeling fresh again as she wondered what she has learned well besides the sudden events that she was not ready to deal with something rather unique. Turning her head back she saw him getting distant saying. “A rather energetic god…”

@Timemaster

MUNDANE QUEST #2: Phantoms in the Dark

If Galaxor had been the one to create the chambers and tunnels where the goblins guided by the Smilegma lived, then why did they always discover new tunnels around the same time each year? Lately, some of the younger goblins have begun to murmur amongst themselves about the ‘Phantoms of the Lower Tunnels’. A set of triplets claimed they once encountered a ghostly apparition down near the end of the Tunnel of Uglagulg, and when they came back the next day to check on the ghost, found a new tunnel in its place instead. Everyone’s refused to go into any of the lower tunnels since they started spreading those rumours, where most of the tasty creepy-crawlies make their lives and where they harvest the plant fibres they use to make their clothes.

Safe to say, their shabby clothes and tools wouldn’t last long if they didn’t get any new materials for repairs, and with no clothes or tools a fate worse than death awaited them… That of not being able to comfortably sit on the gravelly, scratchy cave floors. Oh, and death by exposure or lack of means of defence against predators, too.

EXPECTED POSTS FOR QUEST COMPLETION: 1
DANGER LEVEL: LOW

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@AdorableSaucer

DIVINE QUEST #2: The Blood Swarm

Coming from the blood pools within the eternal sandstorms in the desert wastelands to the south of the Lick, Blood Locust swarms were an uncommon but not surprising event which usually happened at least once or twice each year, easily warded off by the burning of bonfires and trash heaps.

This last year, however, there have been six swarms. Each one featured larger, meatier locusts than the last. The second to last swarm that passed by didn’t even respond to the smoke and instead flew straight through it, eating every grain and every crop they could find and throwing the entire region into disarray. The week after yet another swarm came through and upon failing to find any crops to eat, they instead grabbed wild animals and some of the weakest Snooters and dragged them away into the wastes, never to be seen again.

There is widespread fear gripping the region. Tribes of Snooters blame and raid other tribes and each other for incurring the wrath of the Gods, and little by little the fear grows so much that Agriculture becomes impossible, for not a single day passes without fields being trampled and salted.

The shamans and prophets now believe that yet another swarm is coming… One that will dwarf the previous ones and spell the end of Snooter civilization around the Lick.

"Snooter. Pigs. Boars. Pork. Locust fears? Bloody bacon... To aid? Long tongues... Big stomachs... Hunger." Said a pile of his own dung to Hummus via a farty version of morse code.

EXPECTED POSTS FOR QUEST COMPLETION: 1-2
DANGER LEVEL: MEDIUM

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@Goldeagle1221

MUNDANE QUEST #3: Got Dam

The Great River is slowly drying up. A quick investigation shows the source to be a set of dams of massive proportions that are being built by a large group of beaverfolk in and around Shangshi-La. Several groups of people have asked them to stop, only to be met by a hail of rocks from above.

Rumours abound that these beaver-folk aren’t actually beastfolk, but demons from the other side who have come to take Galbar’s untainted waters for themselves, a hypothesis that seems to be supported by the dam-builders having what seems to be an endless supply of wood. Fact is, whatever they are, if they are allowed complete unregulated control over the world supply of fresh water then everyone could be in trouble.

“No flow? No daffotales? No lillypads? We dislike it? Fix things?” A passing cloud mouthed at Tuuni.

EXPECTED POSTS FOR QUEST COMPLETION: 1-3
DANGER LEVEL: HIGH

The vast breadth of the World River was immeasurable and indomitable. If one were to stand on the southern bank, you'd never see the northern, and if you stood on the northern, well you wouldn't see the south. Some settlements and some peoples never knew there even was another side to the river, and that was not to speak of how long it was... until the beavers came.
They had done the impossible and erected a hard wooden dam that spanned the width of the river, trapping its eastern flow and every time the river rose to match it, the beavers built it taller, even going so far as to block off any diversions the river could take with seemingly endless wood. This went on and on until finally, the small god known as Tuuni took notice and decided to visit the beaver people.
Their leader was something of an obvious individual, with a hat of reeds that were tall and painted with river stones. He stood on a wooden platform as the beavers turmoiled below, arms crossed over a vest woven of the same plants as his hat. He was known as Fohr-Mahn of the Dee-Pi-Dubyew peoples and he reined supreme. He chattered his teeth in triumph as he watched his people, he will be known forever as the man who conquered all the water. All of it.
Cracking a grin, Fohr-Mahn squatted, hands folding over one another as he watched his plans be executed. All was going just as he expected, save for the small bearded thing staring at him. Wait what?
"I am Tuuni, and I speak for the streams!" The tiny gnomish thing said from behind bushy brow, head and chin. Fohr slowly stood up and puffed out his chest. "I am Fohr-Mahn! Ruler of the waters!"
"Oh!" Tuuni seemed to pause for a moment. "Well I offer an accord, ruler of the waters, should you continue to stop my streams, I will stop yours."
Fohr-Man squiggled a brow, clearly confused. "Begone!"
And he was begone.

---

Fohr-Mahn stood standing over his once toiling crew, his face a strained red. In fact, everyone who looked u pat him looking up with the same strained face. No one wanted to be the first to say it, no one wanted to even admit it, but there might be more than one stream not moving anymore. A quiet rushed across the scene, everyone waiting for Fohr-Mahn to solve the problem with a quick speech, because blowing on it didn't seem to help as much as the tribe doctor said it would. Fohr-Mahn finally opened his toothy mouth and everyone leaned forward.
Quietly, infinitely so, Fohr-Mahn said, "I can't pee."
"Oh no!?" Tuuni popped up behind the beaver man.
Fohr-Mahn burst into tears and fell to his knees, his stomach full and bladder fuller. He slammed a fist into the wooden platform. "You win, little Tuuni, you win... but hear this... the Beaver People of Dee-Pi-Dubyew will never stop until we conquer a river. If not this one, then another!"
"Then, go catch this one!" Tuuni waved his staff and lo! A river broke off from the world river and cut into the desert beyond the riparian. And so, the Beaver men went to go do just that, only to find that the wandering river never quite stopped and always seemed to juke them whenever they finally set up to block off its head.

---

"Seems kinda hammed," The King of the Daffotales criticized. The scene was a sunny one by a babbling brook. The mighty king of the Daffotales only divisible from his kin by a tiny paper crown. He was surrounded by a swath of little flowers, one of which was dancing the dance equivalent of a frown.
"It was my first time telling a story," She defended.

By Hermes and her lover, that is where the people of the Silver Lands live. The land is known as such for its silver mists that often befall its lowlands, threading a glimmer through the endless meadows of daffotales and punctuating the creeks and brooks that veined the land and gave it life. In the distance, the great falls of Hermes and Xiaoli provided a constant thrumming of noise, their loving embrace casually creating smaller falls as they collided. But it was not in these lowlands that Temetalmat, son of Temet, found himself, but a land unlike these.
Temetalmat stood facing north. He stood tall, or as tall as a goblin could. His body was tight with muscle and fingers cut with the lacerations of fish spines. His eyes were tired, yet still young, and his lips were curled into an ever frown. Under his sandalled feet was a plush green grass, draped in a golden sunlight uncommon in the lower lands where he was born and up ahead the slope of whatever hill he found himself on simply droned upward and upward until it stopped as a thin green line against the blue sky. It was ethereal, as if he stood a mile from the edge of the world, or perhaps the gateway to another paradise. His fingers clenched and he turned away, turned to face the lowlands. What good was a wish, what good was a man who couldn’t turn it into reality.

---

The village of the silver people was as bustling as it always was, with nary a passerby bothering to look up from their work as Temetalmat made his way through the cloister of hide tents. People were tending to fires, smoking fish on various sticks and prodders, and weaving clothes of reeds and stone smashed fibers. Tememat himself was known as the best fisherman in the village, a fact that was clear as day when one walked into his tent. Inside, he was surrounded by nets of various sizes and bone hooks lined the fabric. His bed was nothing more than a pile of furs and just as he was leaning over them to find his misplaced filet knife, a short man wafted through the flaps of the tent.
“Te-me-tal-mat,” the man chided as he found himself front and center. He was a rotund man, with a crown of bone and a smile that split from ear to ear. Temetalmat stood up to turn to him and grunted.
“Pogatolgit.”
“Leader Pogatolgit,” Pogatolgit recalled.
Temetalmat was facing the man shoulder to shoulder now. “What do you want?”
“Alma is being rather shy, you know?”
A breeze ruffled through the tent, and Temetalmat narrowed his eyes. “I don’t wish to hear of this.”
“Well, perhaps we can talk about Yumi, instead?”
“What of her?”
“Alma is getting old,” Pogatolgit replied, “I was thinking maybe I…”
Temetalmat took a step forward, grabbing Pogatolgit by the throat and lifting him ever so much off his feet. The smaller man squirmed, grunting and ripping his hands against Temetalmat’s, but his soft fingers couldn’t budge the rock that were the fishermans. Pogatolgit spit up his breath. “What… what are you doing!?”
“What is a man who can’t make a wish a reality?” Temetalmat said between clenched teeth. Pogatolgit’s eyes widened, but not out of understanding, but out of pure instinctual fear. His chest was trying to heave, but all it could was compress and compress until Temetalmat’s fingers felt a pop and a crack, and then he shook the dead leader like a doll. Temetalmat felt little, his tired eyes staring at the dead man in his hands. He didn’t feel like he killed a man, but rather stepped on a bug that bit him. It felt fine, but it didn’t feel done.
Temetalmat let out a roar and threw the body through the flaps of the tent, the body landing with a great thud. The sounds of the village stopped as he exited, all eyes suddenly on him and his kill. Eyes were wide, but no one cried. Everyone felt Temetalmat’s presence, and everyone felt the same as him, he knew that to be true, he also knew they just weren’t brave enough to be the ones who did it. The fisherman had become the fisher of men.
“No longer will there be a single leader,” Temetalmat roared at his crowd. “From this day forward, you all will seize reality as I have.” He looked towards the largest tent, where his mother’s eyes peered out from the flaps of Pogatolgit’s tent, along with the eyes of others. Temetalmat curled a fang. “And I know our first decision as a village, to declare freedom for all.”

---

Death stared as those he was speaking to just left his dwarves, and he sighed a bit as he looked at his creation left there alone. “Dig… but I will find a place for you to be free without living with those around you. This place is something beautiful, but with time… I will be back, live here with the gifts of life, and remember her beauty, procreate and grow…”

He turned and left the tree, going back into darkness to where he had the few dwarves he kept for himself in the afterlife, and he brought them through his maze, through stone and life before he placed them upon the ground looking over a river, then he awoke them. “Live free my children, this place is strong with what you need… There will be one who comes soon, spread out… and live.”

With that to the rest of his children, he stepped back into the portal before he began to wander. He wandered for some time, but then he stepped out of his realm again, looking at a man.

“We are similar…” he said as he stared at the god of heroes, “I… believe you should meet someone, she seems to have a lot of need for someone like you. But, I wanted to come here, and see if you wished to make something… a creature full of ambition and freedom… something like us for her to use. While she wishes to create order, and you seemingly wish to do the same… but you feel free. I want to see how freedom breaks the cycles placed in with most creations here.”

Galaxor was…somewhere. The business concluded with the rivers, he was about to finally go to the tree of life. It’s been a wish that he had for a while. Ever since the tree appeared above the place he chose to place the Goblin Underground. ‘Alas, distractions kept appearing. First the holy temple setup and now Jaxx again. Something was going on at the river with him. Something interesting.
Annddd…right as he wanted to teleport ...a divine presence. A god. The smell of him reeked of death. A smell well known to Galaxor. A smell he made things smell of for aeons. Galaxor turned to the deadly divine and smiled. His muscles bulged, his hair straightened, the aura around him sharpened and even the sand beneath his feet turned golden.

“Similar you say? HA! HA! HA! There’s none like me, holy spectre. For I am Galaxor, The God Of Heroes, The Hero Maker, Divine Artisan of Heroes, Celestial Forger of Legendary Champions, Master of Heroic Destinies, Architect of Heroism and Valor, Weaver of Epic Tales, Cosmic Mentor of Heroic Prodigies, The Legendary Enabler of Greatness, Creator of Champions, The Mythweaver, The Cosmic Patron of Heroic Aspirations, The Celestial Architect of Legendary Deeds ” quickly said Galaxor while still laughing before eventually stopping.

“I don’t create, nor bring order, holy spectre. I simply give people the opportunity to choose for themselves. Order, chaos? Neither matter. Heroes can be born out of both. But…very well. As a personal favour, which I’ll come to collect eventually, I shall see this person you’re talking about. ” added Galaxor with a wink, letting himself get teleported whenever the divine being wished.

Death chuckled a bit, and stared at the man in front of him, and he slowly held his hand out, “Being able to teleport seems to be such a wonderful thing, but… since you are one of the reason I am around, I tend to have my own way to watch as everything happens in the world around. But, I was hoping to create a people, with willpower and freedom, who strive to be greater than they are. Those upon this plane now seemingly do not have such a thing, they seem to be made in a way that drives them in a single direction. Each one, elves have a love and fondness for the earth and life, those dwarves that I’ve scattered around the world just now are filled for industry and greed. Goblins will be easily swayed by evil, greed, and destruction, many others have a purpose, but what about a race that does not have a purpose. That has to find it’s own, one that forges it’s own path. That is something I believe we both wish to see.”

With that, death held his hand out towards him, and smiled softly, “We will be working well together, for I also have another idea, orders of warriors bound by the gods they follow… One that worships life, and sees death as sacred… One that honors protection, that honors glory and honor. Watch the world grow with fantastical and grand opportunities for our heroes and creations.”

“See? That’s where you’re getting wrong. While the elves might want what their goddess wants and the dwarves with their greed…they don’t hold a candle to my Goblins. You’re saying they’ll be swayed by evil, greed and destruction. What makes you think that? They are free to do whatever they wish. Heroes will be made either way. If they’re evil, a hero will rise to bring them down and if they’re good, a hero will rise to take over them. For me, it’s irrelevant. I care not about good or evil for they’re concepts that we divine define. Let me give you an example. ” said Galaxor before lifting some earth from the ground and making two goblins figurines out of it.

“One of them is you, the other is life. What’s good for you, is not good for life. What’s good for life is bad for rebirth and the cycles. If I throw a goblin in a box that you can’t see the inside of, is the goblin alive or is it dead? The answer is both. They’re dead and alive at the same time, depending on the observer and when they observe the goblin. All of this…it’s irrelevant. Heroes tho’? They’re eternal. Be they good, evil or something in the middle, they’re always there. You may take them to your realm, death but they’ll still be alive in the minds of everyone they saved and if they’re alive, they’d be wished dead by their enemies. ” explained Galaxor as the two earth-goblins moved to exemplify what he was explaining, similar to a movie.

“Nonetheless. If you want an order of warriors, I see nothing wrong with that. Heroes will be born out of them, after all. So, very well. I’ll lend you my power, holy spectre. ”

“I care for progress, for beauty and realisation. Many people see reincarnation as the true way, when in reality, it clogs everything, it spreads and decays many things when it comes down. Souls are an infinite thing, this plane is not. Everything we stand on has a spirit. It is more or less a choice, of if you wish to keep balance or not. I give back to life, because death is not the final step. It is the souls, it is the space. There is too much created. Your goblins may be created and formed by you, but others will put their own gifts upon them. They may have already had gifts placed upon them you don’t know, my creations have. But, something created, and forced into being free of mind. With some of the other divine, you have a place to create heroes. Not just champions, but warriors. Goblins can do so much, they are… frail, compared to those I’ve seen, but…”

In his hands he brought his hands out and moved the earth, and then he took it to a shadow, and out two figures that mimicked them both appeared, “Imagine… those who look like the divine, something based on us, and with your will, to live and create and be free. They will spread far, and be true to their purpose. A race that spreads far, and is of no purpose.” He took a step back and did it again, with two other figures both female.

“I just need to give them life, and you, true free will… true freedom to do as they need and wish. Let them be the equaliser in this world that this world needs.”

“We clearly see things differently, holy spectre. Very clearly. Anyone can place whatever gifts they may wish upon my goblins, I don’t have a problem with that. They’ll make more interesting stories that way. Heroic stories but I’d lie if I won’t say that you’ve made me curious about your vision. In fact, I’m very curious about what you’ll make. Let’s see what we can make together, Death. We two have worked against each other from before I was a divine after all, always chasing to take me and I always escaped you. Might as well see what happens…when we work together. ” replied the Heroic Aspect of Galaxor.

He took a step back from the now four figures and created man, an aging species. The four figures would die of age, they would live and be everything. He gave them life, and he would allow others to give them something. But he also gave them something, the ability to choose fate, and the ability to choose their mates. To interbreed with those species he has helped create so far. “All they need is free will to learn as they need. But I do not chase; I just walk, for I am inevitable for all, to meet all. I care more about balance, than I do watching things die. I would rather see things live. ”

Galaxor laughed as he saw the creatures the holy spectre created. They looked so feeble. Weak. Insignificant. Yet Galaxor knew that from weak creatures, heroes are made.

With a tap on each of their heads, an aura appeared on the creatures and they would find themselves having the knowledge of freedom, what it truly means to be free. This new race will experience true freedom or at least, have the knowledge of what it should look like. What they will do with it…that will be up to them.

"And done. Your new species knows freedom now. The true freedom. They shall never accept servitude. They shall never be slaves. They'll be free…if they want to be free. "

Death chuckled a bit, “they are their own, not driven by any god… I thank you.” he said smiling. “But, when they grow and produce themselves in the world… but with time, we will meet again for an idea I have with them… And with civilization as well.”

“I will see you at the tree, or next time our paths meet, when they grow, and when all things grow… we will meet again.”

"Very well. 'Till we meet again, holy spectre. " replied Galaxor as he stepped into nothing, teleporting himself to Jaxx’s location.

With that Death took a step back, and brought some of his creations blindfolded back into the afterlife to bring them throughout the world, then he stopped back at the tree of life, and he walked back out with his newest creations so that these may see perfection.

MUNDANE QUEST #2: Phantoms in the Dark

“A strong return extended the whirlwind of time, where the west wind originated.”

If Galaxor had been the one to create the chambers and tunnels where the goblins guided by the Smilegma lived, then why did they always discover new tunnels around the same time each year? Lately, some of the younger goblins have begun to murmur amongst themselves about the ‘Phantoms of the Lower Tunnels’. A set of triplets claimed they once encountered a ghostly apparition down near the end of the Tunnel of Uglagulg, and when they came back the next day to check on the ghost, found a new tunnel in its place instead. Everyone’s refused to go into any of the lower tunnels since they started spreading those rumours, where most of the tasty creepy-crawlies make their lives and where they harvest the plant fibres they use to make their clothes.
Safe to say, their shabby clothes and tools wouldn’t last long if they didn’t get any new materials for repairs, and with no clothes or tools a fate worse than death awaited them… That of not being able to comfortably sit on the gravelly, scratchy cave floors. Oh, and death by exposure or lack of means of defence against predators, too.

EXPECTED POSTS FOR QUEST COMPLETION: 1
DANGER LEVEL: LOW

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Congrats. Half way through!

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@frettzo _{secret messageonlyforFrettzo, you have 10 points from me if you've read this.}

No one knew what happened but ghosts or divine powers were the words on everyone’s lips. Initially Maxima ignored the rumours but when the workers, one by one refused to go down the tunnels…something had to be done. Even with the Cornucopia, food would eventually run out if they didn’t have what to throw inside it. As with time, they noticed that the Cornucopia gave something of almost similar value of what they threw inside. A bad rock, will offer something edible but not good while a yellow stone of good quality, would offer them a full meal.

Materials were getting scarce too. The yellow stones they found would eventually run out after all, repairs, new tools and buildings used a lot of it after all. ‘Thus, Maxima had to go everyday and make the goblins do what was needed. ‘Alas, this was not a sustainable solution.

A group of warrior goblins was formed one day, 10 of them, each armed with long spears and mining equipment and led by Maxima herself and then they waited for the day when the ghost would appear. But, as Maxima suspected, nothing was there when they arrived. No ghost, no new tunnel. A plan was devised soon after.

Maxima stayed behind and commanded the warriors to go forward, only dressed up as miners and ‘lo and behold. The ghost appeared or better said, the goblins dressed as a ghost appeared. Not that the warriors knew that initially. They were afraid but under Maxima’s command, they couldn’t falter. They advanced towards the “ghost” and as soon as they approached it, Maxima revealed herself.

The goblins that used some sort of unidentified rock to make an eerie light combined with plant matter that they weaved to make clothes with, fell down to their knees as the command of Maxima overtook their will. Swiftly, the warrior goblins circled them and pointed their spears towards the necks of the “ghosts”

“Stay on your knees, gobbits*. What is the meaning of this? What is going on here? My people are starving because of you. Children going without food.” shouted Maxima, leaning heavily on her command. These goblins weren’t of her tribe, they were from the outside world yet as far as the Goblin Underground was aware, there was no exit to the surface from anywhere around here.

One of the smaller goblins started crying and was soon followed by another one. Only the third “ghost” , which looked considerably older than the other two, was looking serious and lifted his head to look Maxima in the eye.

“Better your children than mine, great Maxima. We meant no offence but it was the only thing we could do. A big earthquake trapped my tribe in these caves a few years ago. We’ve been dragged deep underground and found your spot where the food grows. We were…so hungry. Oh’ so hungry, didn't think of anything else but food, what we had were these glowing rocks. Nothing that can be given in exchange for food...and we were afraid of you. Goblins above…some started to eat each other, we were afraid you were the same. So, we hid. My mate found the rocks and I came up with the plan…she’s dead now but the children remain. ” said the older goblin with true sadness in his eyes. It was clear that they regretted their decision but from their perspective, it was the only thing to do.

Maxima stayed silent as the old goblin told his tale and somewhere half through, even she was moved by his words. Especially when he said that goblins ate each other. That made Maxima think. Why were they breaking the creator’s rules? Why did they kill one another and then eat one another? Is desperation so strong? These and many other questions raced through her mind but she shook her head.

“That is indeed sad, gobbit. Yet, you could’ve tried. You could’ve talked with us. Our creator himself told us not to kill one another. It was one of his first decrees. His first rule. I remember, I was there when it was created. Continue your tale, how did you open up the new tunnels? The “ghost” was indeed a smart move but you cannot tell me that those rocks allowed you to open up new tunnels. ”

“We could’ve tried and we should’ve but fear is stronger than anything else. How did we do it? We didn’t. There are some creatures in these caves, something like a worm. They crawl through the ground and make holes..then it comes crashing down. Hurting our younglings or yours. The worms move once every cycle to breed, every cycle they make a new tunnel.”

“You were protecting us and yourself at the same time? Where are these worms then?”

“That’s right. Probably deep in the ground, sleeping until the next breeding season. We’ve seen them ever since we arrived here. Now, I am more than happy to answer more questions but let’s get this over with. Are you going to kill us? Run us off? If so, please let the younglings go. They were only helping me..they don’t deserve death. ” said the old goblin, his eyes tearing for the first time as he begged for mercy…not for himself but for the children.

“The surface world sounds quite messed up if you think we’ll kill you. No, I’ll tell you what I’ll do. Gather your tribe. Bring them over to us. We’ll take care of them. ”

“And in exchange?”

“In exchange, your people will work for the food, clothes and everything they receive. They will also share their knowledge with us. But..there is a problem. I cannot let this go unpunished, ‘lest I’ll appear weak. ”

“I…I…we’re..are you…” started saying the old goblins, mirth clear on his face until he heard the last part. His face steeled itself for what was about to come and stood up.

“Very well. Please punish me then. I shall take the punishment for everyone. ”

“For everyone, you say? Very well, for each member of your tribe, you’ll act as my advisor for a cycle. I require cunning people in my retinue. Now, tell me your name. ”

“I will gladly serve you, my leader. They call me Rajesh. ”

Maxima held out her hand to him and as he took it, said “Welcome to the tribe, Rajesh. We’re about to do wonderful things together. ”

“Soon, No Leaves On Tree. Soon, No Leaves on Trees. Soon, No Trees. Soon, No Plants. Soon, No Plant. Soon, Talk To Metal. Soon, Find Cause. Soon, Save Yourself.”

Allianthé watched as the rose returned to its natural form. Seeing her creation used like that, in such an unnatural manner, it bothered her. Except that its message was far more disturbing. She looked up towards the heavens, where the canopy of her most sacred tree was still in view. What she saw shook her to her core. With her divine senses she saw some of the leaves, only a few, turn red and orange and yellow. The tree itself rejected them and soon the gentle leaves came falling from the sky. If a goddess like her could turn pale, she would.

The air billowed through the forest as the goddess of life rushed towards the Tree of Life, desperate and fearful for the center of her creation.

There she came face to face with another Goddess. Hands on her hips in an athletic form made of molten gold, more like a statue than a living being. The Goddesses’ eyes were narrowed as she looked over Allianthé. Then she shifted her leg, proof she was capable of movement and her voice burst forth in a low accusatory growl.

“What did you do?”

The accusation hit Allianthé straight in the heart. Did the metal goddess truly think this was her fault? How could she think she’d poison her own creation! For a second she wanted to lash out like only nature could but again she checked her temper. “I do not like to be accused too quickly.” She said as neutral as possible. “All I know is that the tree of life is dying. You are the goddess of metal, are you not? I was told to come talk to you.” Her eyes turned towards the great tree again. Worry gripped her heart as more leaves started falling. “What do you think is happening?”

The Goddess rolled her eyes and crossed her arms. “Goddess of Crafting. Goddess of Metal. Sylia is my name.” She retorted before adding, “And I don’t have a clue. My own hand told me to talk to you.” She pointed a finger at Allianthé. “So here I am.” She rubbed her temple and began to pace. “My Watcher has gone silent and your Tree think’s the seasons have changed.” She stopped pacing in front of Allianthé, shifting her form to be eye level. “We must venture below. Take my hand. I doubt you have seen the womb of the earth where the Divinium lies.” Sylia finished with a huff and out held her hand to the Life Goddess.

“It doesn’t know seasons.” Allianthé’s pride did not allow for this fellow goddess to be so unknowing about the Tree of Life, much like herself it was eternal. To believe that it could go through a cycle of renewal would suggest that it could perish to start with. “But no, I haven’t been far below ground.” Despite her fear for what she would find Allianthé took Sylia’s warm hand.

One moment the sun illuminated all and the next, it was as if night had fallen and the world was only lit by stars. In this case, bioluminescence of all sorts and teeming with moss and fungi. Brightest among them was the humming ore interwoven within the rocks. As soon as they arrived, Sylia had let go of Allianthé’s hand and had walked to a ledge that overlooked a deep ravine that radiated a mix of white and green light. A song of hums mingled together into a chorus of beauty.

“Curious. The Watcher is not seen but I can feel its presence further down.” Sylia said aloud. She pointed to a vast stretch of roots that were hanging into the ravine. “That was not here when I left.” She turned to Allianthé, her form shimmering. “This is not the work of Toil. It’s far too soon. We must investigate further, come.” She said, not waiting for an answer as she took a step off the ledge.

“No wait!” Allianthé reached out to Sylia. Too many questions came up. What was this ‘Watcher’ and why was it down here? Who was Toil? What was happening? She looked at the roots around her instead. Some of them looked dark and bloated. Like they were filled with something foul, stagnant and poisoning. She placed her hand on the root and felt a strange, copper taste in her mouth. “All will be well again. Just hold out a little longer, my dear.” She said and as life the tree could understand her without a doubt. Then, with a worried sigh she too leapt off the ledge into the ravine below.

They heard it before they saw it. A large crack, followed by the unmistakable sound of rock being broken. Sylia flew like an arrow to the spot, ahead of Allianthé, following the roots the Metal God had pointed to earlier. There, in a large flat cut of the rock, obscured from the main channel of the descent and now illuminated by pure green from the Allianthite ore, they found what they sought. A large figure of flowing silver metal, encased and seemingly melded within the roots of the Tree, motionless. Below it, fought a smaller version of the metal automaton. It was dodging the whip like vines and cutting into them with every lunge it could make.

Sylia said nothing as she watched, a hand upon her chin as if she was studying the encounter with pure interest.

“No!” Allianthé screamed as she landed and saw the scene unfolding. She reached for a small, inconsequential spider crawling along the roots. In her hand it transformed into a bow entwined with a black, spider-like carapace. Long, spindly legs reached out from the handle seemingly ready to hold something. Allianthé drew back the string and an arrow of white spider silk formed. The arrow flew straight for the smaller automaton and instantly wrapped it into a spider’s cocoon. “What is happening!?” She asked Sylia.

“Overreactions.” Sylia mused, leaping forward. She came to a stop before the smaller automaton, which shook violently in the web, but could not escape. Then Sylia looked up at what was left of the larger Automaton. “Fascinating.” She said, putting her hands behind her back. “It seems our creations were unable to coexist. I wonder who initiated such a conflict? I don’t see how my Watcher would have attacked the roots, without the roots having taken Divinium and I doubt they did that.” She turned to Allianthé and said, “Perhaps the voices we heard have something to do with it?”

“Perhaps.” Allianthé did not enjoy the almost uncaring musings. Clearly this Sylia did not understand the value of life. All life. For now though, Allianthé had to restore harmony. She did not enjoy the fact that this Watcher, this poisonous creation of metal, was placed here without her knowing. Then again, she wasn’t the tyrant of this realm. Others can come, create and go as they please of course. Still, a fair warning would’ve been appropriate, she felt.

Her divine senses told her that some other form of life was present here as well. It was small, and making every effort to hide from the automatons, the warring roots and now the two goddesses as well. It couldn’t hide from Allianthé of course. In a flash she appeared before it, crouching so it was looking it straight in the eyes at the same height. “Hi there little one.” She said with a friendly smile.

The creature, the goblin, jumped up in surprise and dropped the white ore.

Allianthé frowned. “Why are you holding that, little one?”

“T-T-The voices!” The little goblin exclaimed. “The voices said it was good. It was shiny!”

Before Allianthé could say anything else, or the goblin for that matter, Sylia appeared behind the goblin so that she was facing Allianthé and smacked the creature in the side of the head. Gore and brain matter coated the wall it had been hiding beside in a grotesque display. The goblin’s limp body fell to the ground, spurting blood at the feet of Allianthé. The ore lump rolled to a stop close by, the only sound in that small but giant room.

Sylia sighed as her attention turned to Allianthé, “A fitting fate for a thief. I do wonder how it even got down here in the first place.”

The goddess of life reached out towards the little goblin corpse. Tears pooled in her eyes as she cradled the body. She only felt pain. So much pain. Death, she had been introduced to it but to see it inflicted so callously. So unjustly. What was this little one’s crime? At worst he was a fool. Death was not the right penance for that. As the goddess of life, Allianthé would not stand for it. She held the body tight and used all the might necessary. The wound healed and the soul returned from the brink. There was no way she could do this for every creature that perished, but this one perished in part because of her. Rightfully the little resurrected goblin clung to Allianthé, fearful of the goddess that had just killed it.

“That was too far, Lady Sylia.” Allianthé said as she rose up. “Perhaps you should busy yourself with figuring out what is going wrong with your metallic creation.” Her voices were - for the first time in her existence - pointed. Yet the crafting goddess was no longer before Allianthé. Instead she was back over before the macabre sight of the metal and plant amalgamation, with seemingly no care for what she had just done.

“Yes, yes.” She chided back at the Life Goddess. She then placed a hand upon her Watcher and said, “Ah, it seems the diminutive creature, goaded into stealing by the voices, prompted the Watcher to attack it, which these vines prevented. A battle ensued, and the Watcher was assimilated? No… As the vines constricted, the Watcher began to leech itself into your tree. It was mutual destruction. Yet…” She let go and walked over to the smaller pinned Watcher. “This one was created to ensure the legacy of the Watcher would endure and it disobeyed directives. It was supposed to retrieve the Divinium and leave but it stayed and tried to free its maker. Remarkable.” She breathed.

“They will have to be removed.” Allianthé said rather matter of factly. “Or dismantled. Whichever you prefer.” They couldn’t be allowed to remain here for sure. At best a tentative peace would remain. At worst all of this was one foolish goblin away from another incident. She put the little goblin down and it scurried away. Probably to tell the others about its encounter and hopefully its miraculous resurrection. “Though I presume that you’d wish a replacement for its task down here?”

"You do not see the significance, that's fine." Sylia said, turning to her. "I shall acquiesce to the removal but yes, you must understand one thing about Divinium and its alloys; Mortals are not yet ready or capable of working it into usable objects. I placed the Watcher here as both a deterrent and a challenge. If we don't come up with a replacement, the Goblins of these caves would run amok. Like the one you saved." Sylia waved a hand over the Watchers and they liquefied completely, running like water from the vines and the spider silk, forming into two spinning orbs around her head. "There, the poison is drawn from the wound. Now what am I going to do?" She muttered to herself.

“Thank you.” Allianthé said with a gentle smile again. “And you are… quite right.” The goddess acquiesced without letting her pride fall. “Allow me to then make a proposal and a request. Would it be so much better if these poor goblins down here learned how to handle your precious gift? Instead of just… leaving it here? Hoping that someday they all figure it out for themselves.” Her eyes darted to the shadowy corners from where she was certain the little goblin was looking and listening. “I can create a shepherd for them, to teach them what they can do and cannot. In return I would ask that you create a space down here where they can learn and work the Divinium. What say you, lady of metal?”

Sylia looked at Allianthé for a brief moment and then looked at the Sylium orbs. “It is not a hope, Lady. That they figure it out. They will figure it out, if I or others teach them.” she let out a dissatisfied sigh. “The correct infrastructure must be set in place beforehand, or there would be only chaos and chaos, like toil, will only bring disaster for these peoples.” She looked the plant goddess in the eyes now, “I suppose, either way, my goals will be achieved now or in the future. Your request is adequate, I will create a forge for those that wish to learn. Your proposal however, I find qualms with. I instead propose that we create this shepard or shepherds, together. That way, they have both our knowledge and design made manifest. That way, we both get what we want with…” Her eyes darted to the hidden goblin, “No intentional loss of life.”

The last remark conjured a genuine smile on Allianthé’s face. She was most grateful that Sylia at least made an attempt to appease. Even if - quite clearly - she either did not care for it or didn’t understand it. The goddess clasped her hand together. Divine energy coursed through the roots surrounding them as branches and leaves rose up from them. The humanoid figures were empty though, quite literally and metaphorically. Their chest was open, as was most of where their face and hair would be. The hollows looked inviting though. As if something was expected to fill them. “They should have your knowledge and your unique touch for life, I think.” Allianthé stepped aside to let Sylia fill these new creations.

Sylia looked them over, silently digesting everything that they were composed of. She looked up at the Sylium orbiting above them and shook her head. Then she glanced around at the green ore and raised her hand. They began to break away from their rock cages, humming a note that energized with life. They began to whirl before her, more and more gathering. "Allianthite, alloy of Divinium in thy name." She said to the Life Goddess. "Attributes defined by the Khodex and your imprint upon it." She mused, the ore beginning to twirl faster and faster. Its humming reached a crescendo and then the ore became metal, the humming stopped from that which now flowed into the empty vessels. "One such attribute being its capability to bond with life."

The liquid Allianthite formed wove itself into the nascent beings, hardening and grafting to form a strange hybrid of plant and metal. Faces melded into shape, feminine and masculine. Smooth as stone, soft as flesh yet with the hardness akin to best any would be attacker. Sylia knelt before one, watching as its core took the form of a female. She seemed to scrunch her nose as breasts rose along the chest and the Goddess pressed her finger into the female's lower abdomen. She then looked over to see a male's reproductive organs form. The Goddess sighed, "It seems they will be capable of reproduction. I had not foreseen this in truth but it would seem fitting with your domain." Sylia stood again and placed her hands upon her hips. “I am not yet satisfied. What if…” She looked back up at the Sylium orbs and smiled. “Ahh and why should they not be attuned to my primary domain?” With a snap, the large Sylium orb shimmered and then from it came small slivers of metal that embedded themselves into the foreheads of the now sleeping mortals. With this done she faced Allianthé. "The Syllianth they should be named. Beings of Life, Metal and Craft. Formed for the balance of two worlds, and capable of bridging them together."

“Then Syllianth they are named!” Allianthé said, not bothering to hide her excitement. She wasn’t at all surprised at their capacity of procreation. Life, after all, was born and grew. A part of her wanted to stay here and talk with these new beings for a while. Maybe just a few years. Alas, there was the second part of the agreement. “The forge.” Allianthé said. “Down here it seems like that would be… difficult as I understand it.” The fire, the smoke, it would be horrendous for a while if it was placed down here. “Perhaps we could have it be placed in the sight of the sun, above? So mortals from across the world can flock to it?”

Sylia ran a hand through her golden hair. “I suppose.” And next the Crafting Goddess waved her hand, grabbed Allianthé’s and they were back at the surface, the sleeping Syllianth in tow. There she let go of the Life Goddesses hand and settled their sleeping people nearby on the floor level of the tree. Sylia next walked away from the tree and mused, “There are many Holy places within this Holy tree. Or there will be, this bastion of civilization. I can already feel them, living above and below. The others have been busy. It was good that they brought them here, instead of discarding them across the world like toys. It’s such a waste.” She sighed and then pointed to an area beyond the tree, next to a large cave. “I shall place my site there and the Syllianth will watch over it as custodians until they grow in number to look beyond the tree. I shall take some with me to the Atelier, in the northwest.”

With a flick of her wrists the two Sylium orbs whipped past the Goddesses like an arrow, finding their mark next to the mouth of the cave. There the earth trembled and stone was ripped up in a torrent of dirt and debris. Quickly the materials expanded, forming into large pillars of polished granite that formed an open circle next to the tree. There, a large silvered forge erupted from the larger orb and settled into the middle of the circle. Wide at the base and narrowing as it towered over the pillars. Ornate depictions of Sylia hammering and her sigil, a large hand holding the world, were etched across it. Directly in front of the Divinium forge the smaller orb hovered, splitting in half. One half sank to the now pristine floor and became a large circular anvil. The floating half, connected itself to this anvil and became a hammer. Sylia snapped her fingers and the hammer slammed into the anvil with a resounding boom.

She clapped her hands together and let out a high pitched whistle. “There you have it, Lady. I must be going now. Your people will awake in short order and know what to do. And,” Sylia glanced at Allianthé, “Don’t forget your flower.” Then the metal Goddess was gone, taking half of the Syllianth with her.

Days went by fast in the Goblin Underground. Well, day or night was a hard thing to determine when one lives deep underground with no access to the surface but it was day for Maxima’s people. Not that the GU ever slept. There was always more work to be done, more tablets to be written, more knowledge to be amassed.

If they weren’t mining and expanding their territory to sustain their ever increasing numbers. If they weren’t mining, they were mating, if they weren’t mating, they’d write on the tables. That’s how they spent their time. All of their time. Life was not dull for the GU.

It was a quiet day in the GU and the miners were working on a new corridor where they heard running water or something liquid at least. Water was scarce underground and most of what they drank came from the Cornucopia but that wasn’t sustainable for too long. The numbers would soon outweigh the usage of it. After all, it was never meant to be a permanent solution.

As the miners were breaking into the wall with their tools, an earthquake started and panic quickly spread between the miners. Each ran in a different direction as they saw the wall they were digging into cracking and with a loud “WHOOOFF” it crashed down, inundating the whole corridor with dust.

Soon after, warriors were sent in, just in case there was anything dangerous and they saw it. The river. A big underground cavern with a large river in the middle. Mirth could be seen on the faces of the goblins as they saw it and a few of the warriors dropped their weapons and quickly jumped into the river. Only to feel something in there. A sense of danger. A godly sense and they ran, they ran as fast as their legs allowed down.

A few hours later they returned with Maxima in tow. She was a hero blessed by Galaxor, surely she would’ve been the perfect candidate to communicate with a potential divine. Maxima approached the river cautiously, Rajesh a few steps behind her. With a bow to the river, she said, in the most friendly voice she could:

“Greetings O’ Great being! We are the Goblin Underground as decreed by our creator, Galaxor, the God of Heroes. I am Maxima Magna Mirificus, the leader of the Goblin Underground. Please accept my deepest apologies if this river is yours and my warriors defiled it. We’ve captured them and brought them to you to do as you wish but please, spare their lives as they didn’t know what they were doing. ”

"What's that now?" A small voice piped up. Floating lazily on a ring of woven branches was a small gnomish god. He laid in the center of the floating ring, his small sandled feet poking out from under his beard. He held a drink in one hand and a curled staff in the other. Dark eyes sparkled under bushy brow. "Why, hello there! No worries, come on in!"

Almost immediately, the goblins went on their knees to show reverence to the small divine. Even the four goblins that were over 1.9 metres tall. All the goblins, but Maxima who, as instructed by Tummi, approached him, walking into the water a few steps.

“O’ Great One! My warriors are terribly sorry for what they’ve done. Please spare them your wrath. I’ll gladly accept any punishment that you may have for them, but please, understand that rivers such as this are rare underground and our water supplies have run low. They merely sought to cool themselves down and drink their fill. With your permission, I’d like my people to bring some of this water back home. Our children are…suffering from the lack of it. Sure, us adults can survive on fruits alone but the children…” said Maxima before realising what she’s done, she directly asked a divine something, with no fear.

“I apologise for my insolence of speaking so bluntly, O’ Great One with long beautiful beard which us goblins cannot grow. ” quickly added Maxima, hoping this smoothed things over and it wouldn’t end in her death.

"Hm." Tuuni tugged at his beard in an almost exaggerated way, a clear blush on his cheeks. "You provide an excellent case." He paused and twirled his beard between his fingers. "Oh I got it! I'll let you have as much water as you'll ever need, in exchange for a promise!"

Maxima was flabbergasted to say the least. She wasn’t killed on the spot and the divine seemed…very calm, chill. Most divines would’ve surely killed her by now…twice.

“Of course, O’ Great One. As long as it isn’t something that goes against our Creator, we will be doing anything you may need. ”

"Oh, good!" Tuuni squirmed to stand up on his floating tube and leapt to shore. He landed right in front of Maxima with a puff of dust and rose up to her shins as he stood. "Please," he continued, "let us speak eye to eye."

Maxima nodded and went on one knee, looking at the divine, right in the eyes…an experience she’ll tell everyone about in the next coming days.

“Yes, great one? Also, may your greatness, tell us your name? We wish to write it down in our annals. ” said Maxima. Her plan was simple, if they’d die here, hopefully someone will find a tablet and pass it to Galaxor.

"My name is Tuuni," the gnomish imp of a god answered, "and I have a simple set of promises for us to consider together. Firstly, I will allow you and all else to drink and be happy by my river so long as you allow any and all to do the same, no matter the creature or person. Second, I would hope to see that no debris or destruction or taint comes to see this water, keep the land from desecration. Lastly, perhaps, maybe…" He gave her a blushing twinkle. "Maybe you guys could make a little statue of me here, a small one. Cup my hands so that you can put water in them, and I'll bless the statue as holy — so anyone may fill the palms with water and speak their prayer unto me." He seemed giddy at the idea.

As Tunni introduced himself and told Maxima what was required, she quickly turned to Rajesh to make sure he was writing everything down. Just to make sure that nothing is missed out from the deal.

“I can promise you, in the name of the GU, that none shall be persecuted at this spot. All shall drink their fill if so they wish. As for the second part, I’ll make sure to place guards around this cavern. No one shall taint this river with their foulness. As for the statue…That will definitely not be a problem. My crafters will have it created shortly. Rajesh, my advisor, has already sketched a liking of you for our library. It’ll be hard to match your greatness but we will do our best. ” replied Maxima.

The Cornucopia was brought over and food made for the divine and goblins while the crafting was done and in less than 2 hours, it was there. A statue made out of copper and a shiny crystal for eyes was brought from the GU.

“There. Great One Tunni. Our best crafters worked on it and this is the result. ”

Tuuni folded his arms behind his back and gave the statue a walk around. A smile grew behind his beard and with a happy squint, he looked up at Maxima. “Keep this place sacred and your promises clear, and this river will never dry. Should you need me once again, just pray at my likeness.” He gave Maxina a friendly pat on the back, which equated to more of a tap on the knee.

“As long as I live, our promise will be kept and I’ll do my best to teach the new leader to keep the promise too. But, one more thing, great one, if I may. A request. If it is within your power or you wish to help, is there a chance you could make our great artefact, Cornucopia capable of making water too? This way we will be able to spread water everywhere in the underground, rivers galore. Our Creator blessed it with the power to create food but water…” said Maxima, knowing full well what she asked and who she asked. It would be a favour from a divine being, a dangerous thing.

“Hm…” Tuuni once again fell into thought. He paced around Maxima, as if pondering the request with great sincerity. “It seems almost redundant to do such a thing, when there is such a wonderful spring of water here at this river… so instead, I’ll bless it with the flow of another drink, one which fulfils the ideals of your cornucopia to a higher degree. As if reaching out of nowhere, Tuuni lifted the drink he was sipping earlier. “I shall bless the Cornucopia to create this very drink which I sip, it is high in vitamins and calcium as well as proteins. It’s not milk, but it is indeed something which I call Ralk.”

“Ralk. It must be a truly divine drink if you’re offering it, are you sure we are worthy of such a treat? If so, that would work too. Our younglings require everything they can get to grow up strong and it will solve one issue with only water to drink, diversity. So, if you wish to, please do so and I’ll make sure all that we meet, shall know of RALK!” said Maxima as she bowed her head low, very low.

“Yes, I think so,” Tuuni answered simply. “Just remember fairness and generosity, for that is the way of the flow.” With little else, he tipped his drink, a stark white liquid spilling out over the cornucopia. “And with that, new friends, I must be off.” He backed up to the river and gave the GU a big grin. “Content?”

The Cornucopia shook as the powers of two divines combined to make something new. Another hole appeared on it, one that will allow Ralk to come out and the other would keep its original purpose.

“Yes, great one. We thank you greatly. Please visit the GU any time you want and if you haven’t met our Creator, you should. I’m sure he’ll be pleased to meet you. ” replied Maxima as she sent the Cornucopia back to the GU.

“Oh I’m sure I will, I’m a little bit of everywhere.” Tuuni winked before sinking into the flowing water.

Galaxor soon left his new holy temple before giving instructions to Maxima and her tribe to make sure they don’t cut into the tree’s roots…’lest they’ll attract the wrath of a different divine being. His destination? A place where he felt hundreds, if not more, goblins all at once and where Jaxx’s essence can be felt from.

Appearing above the giant river, Galaxor’s majestic form cast a large shadow over the goblins, who, out of a sense of fear and maybe recognizing their creator, went on their knees.

“Ha! HA! HA! Cute little goblins! You don’t need to fear me, I’ve created you. I am your creator, if I wanted you gone…I wouldn’t have made you. Ha! HA HA! Gods, you sure are cute on your knees. Isn’t there at least ONE of you standing up to me? One of you trying to show me who’s the big bad goblin, defender of his kind? A HERO?! ” shouted Galaxor with his usual happy but challenging tone.

Responding to his challenge, one goblin stood up. One goblin that was 2 metres tall and had grey skin. He pointed a hand at Galaxor and shouted at him…something as he charged Galaxor, who has since landed.

“Oh’ my. Jaxx! There you are and you’re attacking me? You remind me of myself a bit, y’know? HAHAHA! Little one, I shall only use my little finger on you. ” continued Galaxor as he easily evaded every single one of Jaxx's clumsy blows. As Jaxx became more and more winded, Galaxor decided to end the match. Lifting his little finger, he very gently tapped Jaxx’s chest sending him flying.

The goblin skipped like a stone across the waters of the river, and then began sinking down into it as the goblins wailed in dismay, and the Daffotales chattered, relaying this tale all along the river bank.

Then after a moment the goblin suddenly re-surfaced, and seemed to be standing atop the water. In actuality he was standing atop the back of a sea-turtle-goblin that had bailed him out, stoking its inner fire of helpfulness in the process, but only those close to him could see that. To the others it appeared to be a miracle. .

The goblins around were amazed, letting out cheers for Jaxx and Galaxor for saving Jaxx. Even if Jaxx lost the fight, he had the guts to do it and in Galaxor's eyes it was enough.

"Good fight, little one. You haven't backed down for 1 second! Very impressive but you lack a lot of skills. Like, a lot, a lot. You definitely need to train more but I guess you've earned something from me. First of all, here. " shouted Galaxor as he waved his hand and taught Jaxx the language of the Goblins. Nothing requiring even a smidgen of divine power, just a simple download of information.

But Jaxx wasn't done. He jumped from atop the turtle back on the shore and screamed at the top of his lungs:

"I'm not done! For what you've made me to, I'll take you down! No matter what!"

Galaxor lifted an eyebrow at him and let out a laugh that shook the ground and pinned down the goblins that were closer to him.

"You want to fight, little Jaxx? Very well. No magic, no divine power, no tricks. " said Galaxor when he finally managed to stop laughing.

At that, Galaxor's form shrunk and changed to match Jaxx’s. His muscles retracted, his aura diminished, everything that would scream "DIVINE!" was gone for a mortal at least.

Not that Jaxx cared, he started throwing blows at Galaxor. One by one, they'd be defected and he'd be hit back with the exact same strength that Jaxx put behind them. It was clear for everyone around that Galaxor, even reducing his powers to a mere mortal, would be the winner.

"It isn't about divine power. This is only pure skill. I'm using the same strength that he does, same speed, everything is mortal levels. Everything but my experience and skill. I've trained longer and I became stronger than anyone else. Even when I was a mortal I worked my way up and now I'm a God and so can you…if you train hard enough. I give you my word as a divine being. " said Galaxor while fighting without any interruption. For him this was nothing more than friendly sparring but for Jaxx…Jaxx took it more seriously. One could clearly see that Jaxx was giving it his all and that he was slowly improving as he was fighting.

For less than a nanosecond, Galaxor became distracted and felt something. But it was enough for Jaxx to strike him with a glancing blow. Closer than any other hit before. One could see Jaxx's pride when he managed to touch the God of Heroes and then the pain in his body, as Galaxor shook his head at Jaxx's pride that had no skill to match it.

"Very well. " it's all that Galaxor said. His Heroic Aspect awakened. The goblins around cowered in fear as every survival instinct they had screamed RUN. Even Jaxx, in his hatred, noticed it.

Galaxor caught both of Jaxx's arms and broke them and as Jaxx screamed, Galaxor lifted Jaxx in the air by the throat, looked him square in the eyes and uttered one word.
"Yield."

But Jaxx didn't, instead closing to strike at Galaxor with his feet. Kick, kick, kick…kic…ki…k……
"Yield. "

To the right, in the distance, sand exploded into the air in a line travelling along the outskirts of the river land, only for the twin showers of sand to turn into one blast as whatever was kicking it all up pulled a sharp turn straight towards them. The source, a wheel, came flying through the air, landing in the clearing the god and mortal had been fighting in, before it began to rapidly circle them.

As the wheel spun donuts around the pair, the pointy hatted goblin running like a madwoman inside the wheel pointed a finger at Galaxor and demanded he “put the guy down right now, miser!”

The Heroic Aspect of Galaxor didn't care about the sand exploding, nor the shockwave it made. For THA Galaxor, it was background noise.

He felt the divine essence around him and spared the divine a glance with one eye before returning to Jaxx.

"Yield. Now. " he said once more.

To which Jaxx eventually nodded and uttered a weak "yield…"

The moment the words were uttered, Jaxx’s arms and bruises healed but he fell unconscious on the ground.

Returning to his usual self, Galaxor turned to the other divine and offered her a bow as he returned to his size, his muscles bulging, smile wide and mesmerising.

"Ha! Ha! HA!! Greetings O Muse of mine. I thought I felt you earlier. Let me introduce myself, I am Galaxor! The God Of Heroes, The Hero Maker, Divine Artisan of Heroes, Celestial Forger of Legendary Champions, Master of Heroic Destinies, Architect of Heroism and Valor, Weaver of Epic Tales, Cosmic Mentor of Heroic Prodigies, The Legendary Enabler of Greatness, Creator of Champions, The Mythweaver, The Cosmic Patron of Heroic Aspirations, The Celestial Architect of Legendary Deeds" and this was a duel, no harm done. "

“Jeez that’s quite a mouthful” the small goblin goddess said, still spinning around, before deciding “I’ma call you Gax instead” before furrowing her brow furrowed as she rolled her mind back to the start of his words and repeated “muse?” right before shifting form.

Galaxor put a hand on his chest as if struck in the heart. "Gax? No, no, no! Gaxi. That's what maidens would call me. " said Galaxor before laughing it off.

He turned towards the goblins as Asheel told him off and looked at them inquisitively before turning back to Asheel.

"Yes, Muse. We haven't been properly introduced but I needed inspiration for my goblins and I gazed upon your form, one of them at least. I think it was…the youngest one and you’ve reminded me of something I forgot, a different life from before I raised myself to become the God of Heroes. I knew right then and there, I had to do something ‘lest I forget that memory again and I gave life to the goblins, all shaped like you with a bit of a personal spin. ”

“Gaxi huh? Call me a Maiden then because that’s a cute name” the goblin said with a mischievous grin, only to be cut off by and with a “No!”

In the blink of an eye, the wheel was replaced by a crystal sphere that slid to a halt, from within which a middle aged goblin woman, also wearing a pointy hat, glowered at him.

“We are Asheel, and you? You have something to answer for!” she declared from within her spherical chariot, before flicking a hand and causing sand swept skulls to spill out of the entrance of the orb to pile between them. “You really think I'll believe you’d do no harm when this is the care you have for your creations. Cast into the desert to die?! Created to suffer and perish if not for my helping hand?”

“I’ve got to answer? I don’t answer to anyone, my muse but I’ll set your record straight. I wouldn’t purposely kill any of my creations in a duel unless they’d agree with it. Any of the goblins around will agree to the fact that I’ve met Jaxx in battle as a mortal, not a divine being. I haven’t used anything divine. Just my skill. How else would he learn? How else would a hero grow to be a hero if not met with a stronger foe than they are? Jaxx here choosed the best foe he could, myself. His creator. If he wishes to defeat me, he’ll have to train and train until he becomes stronger than me…as for the others? Cast into the desert to die? What do you mean? Jaxx here was able to survive even without your help. He fought his fear and met the crystal creature, he knew he stood no chance against it…so, he befriended it. Quite…heroic I’d say. All the other ones could’ve done that. Any hero worth their salt will tell you that without struggle, they would’ve never become a true hero. The strong would’ve survived anywhere I would’ve thrown them, even in the ocean if they had the drive to do it. Also, they weren’t all in the desert. I threw them everywhere on the planet. If too many of them would’ve died, I would’ve saved them myself. Yet…I didn’t. That was by design, not a flaw. ” said Galaxor, his voice weirdly calm. Collected.

“Rather neatly leaving out the part where I pulled him out of the desert I see” the goblin noted “If you were the only god, he would still be dead, perseverance or no”

“Is this what passes for gods beyond the cycle?“ she then asked, before listing off his failings with the tone of a disappointed mother “Deceitful, irresponsibly from passing the care of your creations off on to others, and a complete lack of foresight when it comes to seeing the consequences of your actions. Given you’re not the only one to dump mortals in the desert it seems so” and then shaking her head at this sad state of affairs.

Galaxor looked hurt initially before shaking his head. “Maybe, just maybe you’ve got a point. I should thank you for saving the ones that would’ve died. The struggle they went through will forge them into greater heroes. ” replied Galaxor, suddenly calmer than before, all while bowing slightly to the goblin god.

“And yes, you’ve pulled Jaxx out of the desert but I’m sure you’ve seen that he wasn’t far from habitable lands. Lands which needed a hero to be. But I think I can see your point. To a degree. You don’t grasp the concept of heroism, out of no fault of your own. I’m sure I don’t understand your cycle any better. To make up for it, if you wish to guide the goblins here to the underground, they’ll have everything they need. Food, a leader our their own kind, shelter, protection from the elements and knowledge. ”

“Don’t mind her, she just doesn’t know how to let go” Asheel’s third form took over to say, the old goblin leaning casually on her spiky wheeled vehicle, before adding “Everything has to end, even your foolishness”

“And that just means something new can begin. It’s not like they're gone after all” the Maker who had named herself Maiden added, before pointing at a skull in the pile and then at a 3 day old goblin one in the arms of his mother and saying “see he’s over there now. Same soul, new turn of the cycle”

“And yet what a waste of the first” The Maintainer broke back in again to say “What can he learn from his past life? Nothing other than what it feels like to die of dehydration”

“He knows it can always be worse, and that we have made sure that death is nothing to fear” the Breaker insisted, before the Maiden quietly pointed out that “Or will. We still need to teach them how to actually get in touch with the past”

“This … is getting off topic” the Maintainer insisted, before getting back to the point “you want to take them underground? Why? Is this river not a lovely thing? A perfect place for living”

“Well it is getting a bit overcrowded,” one of the Daffotales interjected, before asking “What? It is!” When every creature with green skin looked at it with frank amazement that it had enough ego to butt into a conversation between gods.

“It does… have a point” the Maintainer admitted “The beastfolk someone else also dumped everywhere have doubled the population and some of them are a bit … rowdy”

“So tell me more about this underground” she conceded, before adding caveats “is it safe? Is there space, food and water enough for all the goblins you would invite there? Is there adequate transportation in and out of this underground?” not at all trusting him to have thought this through.

Galaxor took a seat as the 3 aspects of the divine discussed between themselves. He summoned something in his right hand and eat with his left, from time to time. That something was invisible to the mortals.

"Beast folk? Is that what I saw down the river? Those sound interesting, must pay'em a visit but that's for later. But how are they rowdy? Have they attacked anyone? Killed goblins? If so…I think we have a task for Mr. Jaxx here. Anyways. Now. What was that? Underground. It's very safe, hidden from view, deep underground. Last I went there, they slowly started to dig upwards. I've created them an artefact that provides them air, one that gives them food and one that holds knowledge. They bring things to it and it shows them different usages of what they've brought it. Think of it like a recipe book. Transportation to the surface is, as I said, in progress by the goblins themselves. Again, this is by design. Above them, stands the Khodex and that big tree. If these goblins leave here now, they'll reach the underground exactly when the surface will be reached. Unless you're going to offer them a lift, of course. " said Galaxor, the jumble of words coming out of his mouth.

“Oh yeah, there’s some bad seeds among them for sure-” the Daffotale once again spoke up to reply to the question regarding the beastfolk “-and among the goblins too, sure, but the most bestial of the beast folk ones are way more capable of being a nuisance, if what I’ve been told is true. I heard of this one that’s called ‘Maw Who Slew In Salvation.’ Spooky title right? And then there’s the Fisher King, The Talons which Crave Prey, Birbarus the Dreadful, The Stalker of Scale and Tooth, Death Roller and-”

At that point the goblin goddess started to speak over the plant to summarise that “Yes, It seems there are a number of folk who have learned rather … poor lessons from the desert. To sadly be expected when the only edible thing around is other people”

“She wanted to handle each and every one of them herself, the coddler” the Breaker mocked the Maintainer's apparent position on that matter, before stating “but there’s power to be gained from breaking an impactful pattern like the regular spilling of blood, and the mortals deserve to claim that for themselves”

“And power in forming one too” the Maiden agreed “like a string of heroic victories against the odds! That sounds like a cool one”

“Yes, well, helping the mortals help themselves would be a boon to them I’m sure, should they wish to receive it” the Maintainer conceded, only to push back against his cave idea by pointing out a few flaws “as for your little cave, well I’m quite concerned by the apparent singular points of failure it has. A single artefact breaking, being stolen, or what have you, and the whole place turns into a death trap”

The Breaker shrugged at this fate, but the Maiden was interested, saying that “Well maybe we can make it more self sustaining? Add some cycles down there that can keep themselves running? You’d need some kinda power source like the sun. Only better than the sun, coz it's kinda a single point of failure too right? Same with the source of this river”

“I suppose” the Maintainer conceded again, before getting down to the crux of the issue, namly “you’ll have a hard time convincing them to go with you however, given your previous performance” she gestured to the pile of skulls that was still sitting between them, a reminder of both god’s position in the goblin’s eyes. Perhaps she should have not been quite so confident in her own higher standing in their eyes however, given the Daffotale was still listing off the nicknames of infamous beastfolk that she had delivered into their midst.

Galaxor only laughed as the three Asheels talked between themselves and to him.

“Let’s split your bits, shall we? First of all. Heroic victories is what I’m all about. Victory against all odds. That’s what Jaxx here was trying to achieve after all. Defeat me in single combat because I dropped him into the desert and he had to survive…by any means necessary. If these beastfolk cause issues, I’m sure Jaxx here will rise to the task and he’ll even get a boon from me if he does…to help me in his journey. ” said Galaxor as he raised 1 finger in the air.

“Second of all. There is no chance of failure. I’ve got something hidden in there as well. If something would happen, I’d know and I’ve got a plan for their food…soon. Just need to gather some more power to do so. You could say…I’m in the process of learning some new things. As for a power source, they’ve got magma, lots of it. Go and see if you don’t believe me. As soon as they learn how to use it, they’ll be very well off. ” as he raised another finger in the air.

“And last but not the least, I don’t need to convince anyone to do anything. They can do however they wish. They can stay here, go to the place where the Goblin Queen will rise from or they can go to the goblin states in the south east. It’s absolutely up to them. They can do whatever they want. It’ll be a journey either way. Here they’ll have to face the beastfolk, in the goblin states they’ll have to fight each other and the Goblin Underground? They’ll have to face Maxima. No matter what they choose, it’ll be a heroic journey. The weakest of them will either die or become strong. The strongest of them will become stronger, heroic. ”

“The little dears can’t exactly choose travel somewhere that isn’t accessible yet now can they?” the Breaker sardonically pointed out before the Maiden was more fixated on the fact that “The world was full of spinning hot goop?” which she thought was “So cool!” after which the Maintainer got back on topic and said “And even for these ‘goblin states’, whatever they are, it's quite a trek I imagine, especially for those further away from the sea”

“Oh, we’ve heard some stuff about them coming along the grapevine. They have this metal called copper they get by melting rocks! Neat isn’t it?” The fearless Daffotale broke off its recounting of the world's many villains to interject again, this time about tales that had come up from where the rivers flowed into the goblin states.

“That’s lovely dear” the Maintainer said dismissively before pausing and then actually addressing the flowers ”wait, what else do they have? Something to help people travel long distances perhaps?” to which the plant replied “yeah! They have these little things called boat for travelling on rivers”

“Fascinating” the Maintainer replied, before turning back to Galaxor and saying “Well that might solve that problem, if you give them some time to interrogate the flowers for all this information they’ve apparently been picking up. Enough time for these diggers to breach the surface I suppose”

“You’re misunderstanding me, I think. They can choose to travel to the Goblin Underground and by the time they reach it they will have reached the surface. How they get that isn’t my problem. They can find ways for themselves. For example, as your flowers have noticed, others have invented boats to travel up and down the river. If one is persistent enough, any problem that comes their way will be resolved. Creative thinking, strength of will, the power of their internal cycle if you want to call it like that. It is up to them. They’re free to do whatever they want, that’s why I created them after all. Heroes will rise wherever they are good, bad or somewhere in the middle or they can choose to stay here and do what they’re doing. They can do whatever they can and want. I threw them all over Galbar, a thing that I can understand that might’ve caused them pain, so that they’re everywhere and do something with this world. Others have created slaves tied only to their worship or to follow their commands or creatures with a specific purpose in mind. I didn’t. But, feel free to see for yourself. Come to the underground, see how the other goblins live. We can go as soon as I give Jaxx here, a gift for having the guts to face me in battle. ”

“You have been rather talking around each other, so how about we break that cycle and move on dearies” the Breaker suggested, to which the Maiden agreed “Yeah, I wanna see new stuff”

“Fine fine, gift away” the Maintainer conceded with a wave of her hand, before being replaced by the Breaker who cackled and joked that “she’s sulking”

“HA! HA! HA! You figured out what I was doing! HA! HA! Well played, Maintainer of the Breaking Maidens. Very well. Jaxx! Wake up! ” laughed Galaxor with a hand on his belly before turning to Jaxx, who stood up almost immediately. Something inside him stirred as his creator spoke to him.

Jaxx stood up and while initially prepared a punch to throw at Galaxor, stopped when he realised he wasn’t alone this time. The other divine. The goblin divine. She was present too. He stopped his plan and turned towards the lady.

“My saviour. I thank you for saving my life. ” said Jaxx with as much courtesy he could muster.

“You’ve got the wrong one of us deary” the Breaker, replied, before telling Jaxx that “You’ll have to wait till she’s not in a huff to tell her that yourself, looks like”

“Now, now. Jaxx, I understand you wish to defeat me. It’s a fine goal and one couldn’t find a better enemy but you’ve got to train a long time to reach my level and you’ll need to go many quests. You’re angry at me because you had to kill your tribe to survive, well, now there are others that are killing goblins. Many, many goblins and not because they don’t have any choice. I offer you this deal. Go on this quest, save your fellow goblins and if you win, I’ll offer you a rematch on equal footing. ”

Conflicted initially, Jaxx eventually nodded. He wished to save his kin and he wished to kill Galaxor and if doing quests for him are the only way for that to happen, then that’s what he’ll do.

“I agree to your terms. I shall save my kin and we will have our rematch. It’ll be to your death. ”

Galaxor laughed at the sudden seriosity of Jaxx then turned serious himself too. His aura blaring with power, pushing the goblins around to the ground, pinning them there.

“Ok. Sounds like a challenge. ” the Heroic Aspect of Galaxor said before the aura was reduced in size and the cheerful Galaxor “came” back.

“I shall offer you two blessings to help you in your quest. Be smart and use them. First, you’ll receive the hero's senses. They will act as an early danger system. If something’s coming your way, you’ll know about it a few seconds before.

You will, as well, receive the ability to sense if others that are part of your quest are near to you and their general direction. Use it to guide you wherever you need to go. These two are not making you a true hero. You’ll earn that yourself. ” said Galaxor as a wisp of divine power flew from him to Jaxx. As the wisp connected to Jaxx, his eyes turned a bright yellow. Soon he’d find out that his eyes will never change colours again, they’ll always be bright yellow and they’ll always shine in the dark.

Afterwards, Jaxx gathered whatever weapon he could find and went where his senses told him. Somehow he knew just where to go.

“Apologies it took so long, Maintainer of the Breaking Maidens. Business is concluded. Let us go. Permit me to teleport us. ” said Galaxor as he teleported both of them to the goblin underground.

“You really have an endless amount of breath, don’t you deary. Asheel will do just fine” the Breaker told him (not that it helped), before letting the Maiden take over again so she could get a look at all the new things there were to see down here.

While not much time passed since he was there last, it already looked different than before. There were many different stone tablets with information they gathered from the Smilegma written down, goblins were walking in every direction trying to write as much as they could about their closed-up world. Some were mining and talking with a goblin which wrote everything they could about the miners and their techniques. There was a very audible murmur of voices, of knowledge being shared all around the cave. Different types of furniture could be seen in the cave and clear delimited areas with built walls were made in the cave. It started to look more like a city than a cave.

As soon as the two divines appeared, it seemed like the whole cave just stopped. Maxima quickly stood up from her chair, goblins making her space to approach the two divines.

“Greeting creator and divine guest. We are greatly honoured to receive you in our home! Creator, we’ve followed your indication and have started learning new things, everything we know is being written down and the tablets have been stored into a newly dug out room. Smilegma called it a “library design”. We’ve stored everything there neatly on shelves. Progress is slow going more down unfortunately, the rocks seem harder to break than before and the tools of our miners are breaking faster than we can repair them. ” said Maxima with a bow.

“Thank you, Maxima. You’re following up on my plans, you’re learning more things. I appreciate it. Well, Maintainer of the Breaking Maidens. This is the Goblin Underground and that’s Maxima. The Queen. ”

“Super neat place you’ve got down here Gaxi” The Maiden, who had stepped out of her wheel and darted out to read the entirety of the library in the time it had taken for Maxima to give her status update, and particularly fixating on one rather new discovery that she found very funny as she read the tale bout them.

“ooo and glowing ‘spooky’ rocks. I want some!” she declared before in a flash she had returned to her wheel, sped off, and then returned with one which she looked rather more contemplative than entertained. She eyed the glowing rock. Polished it on her dress.Then bite it lightly.

“Hmmm. Tough. Super tough” she noted, before biting clean through it and then examining the two halves, the exposed cores of which revealed the entire thing to be a luminous diamond of some kind “buuuuut also kinda easy to cut. I mean not for you lot with the tech you got, but still. Hmmm”

She then proceeded to ‘peel’ one half of the diamond like an onion using her teeth, cutting it until she had fully exposed its shimmering centre. She examined her work for a moment, before sticking it into her mouth again, and chomping away. As she did she moved over to the goblin’s primitive copper forge, and made herself a disk of heated metal. She stuck the rim into her mouth as well, and began affixing a series of razor sharp thin slices of diamond onto the outside, till she had formed a circular saw with a diamond blade.

“And there, all done” she declared as she spun the saw around on one finger, before approaching the other uncut half of the diamond and telling them to “now watch this” before using her new saw to first cut that diamond, and then split it into more blade fragments.

“And just like that, you can make more of these without my help, and a bunch of other stuff with diamond tips too. Like drills. Trust me you wanna make those, it'll be great” she told them as she set down the blade next to the shards, and then gestured to offer both to the queen.

Galaxor continued talking with Maxima about what other events happened since he was last there, learning about Tunni and Ralk, the new tribe that joined and brought glowing diamonds with them. Lots of events.

Nonetheless, as he talked with Maxima, his senses were trained on Asheel. He noticed how she left to go to the library and potentially read everything inside and then she brought with her…the glowing diamond. Galaxor excused himself from Maxima and watched with great interest what Asheel was making.

A blade. A saw. Knowledge of tools above any others created in this world. Now that was interesting. Galaxor quietly motioned to Maxima to take the blade and the shards which she did, slowly, carefully and still managed to cut herself slightly.

“My, my. You’ve sure evolved my goblins quite a lot with diamond technology. This will propel their civilization a lot forward. Especially with the Smilegma now having access to diamonds and unlocking new technologies for them. Maintainer of Breaking Maiden, if I’m not mistaken, I’d say you like my people and…maybe changed your mind about this place, am I correct? ” said Galaxor with a laugh and a large smile.

“You know, I owe you a favour now. Tell me, what do you wish for? Maybe a hero? Someone to spread your ways? I’d take that, trust me, my heroes…they’re a bit different than your usual hero. Or maybe you require an upgrade to your wheel. ”

“Hey now I was always a fan” the Maiden insisted, before pointing out that “I mean you already gave me a hero to root for buuuuuut if you still wanna trick out my ride I ain’t gonna say no now am I?” the little goblin replied, stepping out of her wheel and gesturing to it “so tell, me, what did ya have in mind?”

“Do the others agree with the pimping of your ride? I’m more than happy to leave it as a favour for later but if they don’t have any issue…Do you wish your ride to sense danger to mortals, seeing that you like saving them? Maybe you want it to be able to inspire mortals to do heroic acts if they’re in the vicinity or maybe…I’ll leave you Jaxx. How does that sound? I’ll forever remove him from my plans. I still promised him a fight if he manages to save those goblins but after that, I’ll leave him alone forever. How does that sound? ”

“Deal” the Maintainer popped back in to accept that final offer, before leaving again almost immediately, being briefly replaced by a cackling Breaker who was very amused by that theft, and then finally cycling back to the Maiden again who threw her arms up in frustration, before sighing and huffy also agreeing to that with a “fine”

"Perfect! He's all yours. Make sure to let him know next time you meet him. Ha! HA! Haha! He'll hate me SO much more! He'll be a worthy adversary. I'm sure! Now, ladies, I think it's time for me to leave. The Goblin Underground has a lot of work to do ahead of them and not sure if you've noticed…but they're all staring at us. Godly presence and all that.

So, I wish you goodbye and thank you. It was truly a pleasure! " said Galaxor, turning on his charm and winking at, hopefully, the Maiden.

The Maiden was indeed there to be winked at, and she flushed just a little as a result, before nodding and swiftly agreeing “right up gotta be off things to do adventures to watch! See ya!” before hopping back into her wheel and spinning it around on the spot before vanishing in the blink of an eye.

@Vec



During the time after he had spoken to the god of Chaos, he was facilitating and managing the dreamlands. Lareus had tasked the Ya-Gos to help him maintain the dreamlands.. For a good while now Lareus has been moderating and observing the dreams of the mortals. He found most of it very interesting and wondered if they think of this kind of thing while awake. A similar commonality was the mortals dreaming about something called “cheese.” The dream god wondered what cheese was and how it would taste. Further notes will have to be made about this subject, but that is not really important to him right now. Lareus was intersted in watching the dream of a mortal woman. This woman was dreaming she was in a forest feeling anxious about something Lareus didn’t know about. She was moving through the thicket of trees towards a male voice calling her name. “Davinaaaaaaaaa.” The voice called in a sorrowful voice. The woman now running towards the voice desperately calling for the male. “Kelma, I’m coming.” There were tears running down her face. Lareus sported more trees but kept a clear path for her to venture. The sky above the mortal woman started to darken, voices behind her getting loud calling for her name. The branches of the trees moving and swaying as if they were trying to grab the woman. Before the woman could get through the rows of trees she awoke and disappeared from Lareus’s sight.

“HOW...INTERSTING...” He mused to himself while floating over towards another dream. This time it was someone with considerable power. Lareus watches as this male mortal dreams about him killing his enemies. Lareus didn’t care about what they were talking about he was interested in how he could manipulate him. Appearing as the male’s friend who had been long dead. “Romulus…it has been a long time. How are you?” He said with a smile holding out his arms for a hug. The mortal named Romulus smiled and reciprocated with his own hug.

“It is good to see you again Uta, I have missed you, my friend. I wish you were still with me, I still mourn your death. That bastard will pay for your death.” Romulus sneered as he moved away from Lareus.

“I know how you can avenge my death, dear friend.” Lareus could see that Romulus was curious about what he was going to say. “They have a weakness that their leader doesn’t know about. He does not know that you can use those he loves against him. I can convince his daughter to deliver the killing blow.”

Uta again looked confused about what his friend meant. “How would you be able to do that? You are dead.” He pointed a finger towards Romulus who smiled and shook his head. “You cannot speak to anyone if you are not with the living.” Romulus was in disbelief at what Uta was saying.

“I know a friend who can speak to her but in return for his help, he will need something from you." Lareus was disgusted as Uta pointed to the sky before looking over at Romulus.

“And what does your friend need in return for this favour?” He asked now looking superious of Uta.

“All he wants in return is for you and your tribe to worship him, in the waking world and when you are asleep..” Uta moved closer towards Romulus, placing his hands on the male’s shoulders.

Romulus thought for a moment about Uta’s words. Looking up at a friend before responding. “I will do that. Only if your friend can strike down my enemies. What is the name of your friend? “ He asked to which Uta smiled before again pointing at the sky.

“Whenever you need to speak to him. Just say the name Lareus and he will appear.” Uta/Lareus seemed to disappear in front of Romulus. Leaving the man alone among the piles of dead bodies.

Lareus was satisfied with what he had just done. Musing that perhaps he could manipulate the humans through their dreams to do his bidding. The reason was unknown to him but it would be entraining nevertheless. He was curious what the reactions of the mortals would be. Very thought of what their dreams now excited the god quite a bit.

Before doing anything else he started torturing Romulus' enemy. Doing so by making his enemy's daughter have terrible nightmares. Mostly involves the daughter dreaming of her father doing terrible things to her mother and then herself. Making it feel as if it was really happening. Lareus also made sure to keep her dreaming so the pain and suffering would last quite a while. Once he was satisfied he let her go. Saying to her that he would see her again the next night and for the next couple of nights.

From the corner of his eye, he could see a Ya-Go approaching him. The creature bowed its head respectfully towards Larues. “Mmmmmmmy apologies masterrrrrrr to bother you but i have news from the other gods. A fewwwwww have not decidededddddddd to visitttttt your kingdommmmm. But we have noteddddd what they haveeeeeeee been doinggggggggg.” The Ya-Go then told Lareus what the other gods had been up to. From what he was told they were creating and doing their own thing. He would need to learn more about everything about the gods. He then tasked his Ya-Gos to watch and tell him what the gods were doing.