The Birth of El’zadir and The Birth of Civilization
From the darkness of early primitive minds the world was dark and fearful. At first they broke stones to make spears and with it progress began. With the spreading of the races it became strong their chants as a call seemed to echo around the world. A collective echo calling for order, security, unity, prosperity and many other calls. As their calls began to collect divine energy seemed to dance around it, converging in the night as flames harvested from thunderstorms, illuminated tribes scattered in the dark. The divine power followed a will, a path straight into a desert; they soon all collided into the floor and the will of thousands of living beings coalesced in the dark as the winds blew the sand into a dust devil. But soon the energy faded as the sands settled again; it seemed like nothing had come until the sand shifted and an arm obsidian skinned as the dark sky lifted up, from the sands seeking air from below attempting to grasp like it just learned to move and grab. Lifting from the sands and falling off a pristine and beautiful body was a woman obsidian skinned. Silver haired and red eyes like star rubies as the sand cleared off her not being able to hold it self she took a breath, her first breath. As she turned around seeing the world around her godly vision could see far and wide. As she felt the cold wind in her lungs she lifted herself from the sand looking around seeing the arid land and the great lake in front of her. Standing up she looked up to the starry sky as winds shook her long straight hair. Her long pointy ears twitched the small amounts of sand in then twitching to hear every detail.
As she stood looking at the stars she felt a pull. A duty to complete, a clock could be heard beginning to tic and tack. As she wandered near the lake she could see a fire of a tribe looking from afar she could see the goblins in the land. The local tribe was just controlling a fire from a thunderstorm. They had stone tools and attempted to hunt the small animals in the area. The recent hunt wasn’t good as they tended the flame as one kept watch. The watch soon grabbed the stone spear pointing at the tall figure of 6 meters approaching from the dark. Once the light El’zadir dropped a large alligator as the tribe stared at her she soon said in their tongue. “ka iona ar eareio ni zas?” (So are we eating or no?) The group for some reason trusted her almost like something she radiated as she sat down; the others seemed to increase their trust on her after some light hearted talks. The arid lands around from the great lake to here would be changed a lot. As under the hand of civilizations things would begin to change.
tick
From her mind she had a drive her domain called for her to act. Even if she was a goddess her domain talked louder than her and so she began to act. She soon began to teach the tribe and neighboring clans how to manage and make fire. From the flames spreading through the many tribes across the region she labored for months and years. After a time as well she soon began fostering a level of cooperation between the tribes seeking to unite them in bigger and bigger groups around areas of interest. Either with large fertility or resources to bear for the future. Even as she labored, many of them saw her in awe, a woman rising and bringing many together in unity from nowhere. Solely focused on said goal, a goal that was just beginning she would tell many of them.
As time went on and years built upon with the stone tools they had she teached and guided them how to use their primitive tools to chop wood and stone in other workings they had. From pottery, carpentry, and stone working with tools. Used in the expanding of their tribes from simple huts into complex buildings guided by her will even from a distance. With time passing a new society began to arise.
tack
From the early starts of stone and wood, El would guide and teach many of the tribes into farming and agriculture. From planting plants to grow into wheat, barley, fruits and vegetables to be eaten. But at the same time how to plant trees and watch them grow over long months. The lands were arid and desert meaning trees were rare to use this gift, the many tribes began to grow in the back of agriculture into small towns and some into cities. From there she would then use those more available to search minerals in the land. From the dirt many would come to know how to use copper as a better metal to use as a tool instead of the always breaking stone or scarcity of wood.
Tick tack
As the cities would develop over time she would teach and guide many of the goblins into learning construction from not just houses but larger structures. From buildings meant to house many, to large edifications. Architecture that although very simplistic and even brutalistic in places would be allowed to grow past many generations into complexity. At the same time statues would be erected of El by the people she teached as respect and tribute for her gifts to them. From small towns they would grow into cities with many residents over the years that would pass and many still paid respect to who they would call the builder, even praise she cared not for or seemed to not acknowledge with only a smile.
Tick Tack Tick Tack Tick Tack
Soon she stood in the rooms of many leaders as the tribes grew large and fat that many systems of old could not sustain. So she helped the elders, clan leaders, chieftains and many others advised and guided them on how to rule. Setting up laws in accordance with each city's needs, what not to do, what to take, what should be a punishment to those that break said laws. Some of the divine, some of man at the same time she would set up those who would rule. Some would rule by councils, others would rule as kings and queens and as such the last of her gifts would be given in the last city she would meet putting a crown in a goblins head to the jubilation of a crown. She stared overlooking the horizon. She felt the pull again move forward and do it again and so she readied to do it. Grabbing only a staff and a cloth to cover her groin she would march in work.
Walking through the desert dunes she would stop for a moment. Thinking for a few moments she looked back through a city she passed through goblins fought in the distance on a battlefield, copper weapons and blood spilled for rivalries or slits some out of confusion as their goddess continued their work. Others out of greed she looked on and sighed such as the burden of civilization for war is one of its thorns, the bloodier it will become. Walking through the sand dunes leaving the lands of the Saleve’nios as the lands called themselves. she pondered why she did that, why not explore the world first? Why begin all with the duty she was born for? she pondered long as she wandered before saying. “This is my duty, this is the duty of a god… to serve their domain to work till the end…” She walked forward thinking soon enough “This is who i am…” She stopped for a moment thinking as the words lingered in her after the sun set and rose again she continued wandering.
El, awoke and her domain spoke to her immediatly go into the dark and make light it told her and she did as it commanded. After it was all done in her area her Domain then said go and repeat else where and she did but as she wandered her purpose and her dommain's command she thought is this all she is?
From the light she created she made the Saleve'nios a series of city states and petty nations south east of the great lake. A race of goblins uplifted into the copper age by her powers. Now their faith is on their hands and of the other gods.
He couldn't help but feel contentment at seeing his creations move around and explore the land he had chosen for them, with his place of worship in the middle of the largest cave. While he had chosen a name for his creations, the Fowlfolk. He felt that the land itself also needed a name. He closed his eyes for a moment before uttering it's name.
Harrowfane.
"I name your homeland, Harrowfane. Temple of the barrow birds. Fowlfolk you are, yet more you may become. Breed and spread out, learn what you can of the land. Trial and error. To err is mortal. Take my gift to you all... The pool of warding off hunger. From flesh and blood you are made, and flesh and blood will you consume."
Reverion created an artifact what could only be described to be a large fountain spewing meat and bloodlike liquid. The sight of the food and drink sent the Fowlfolk into a near feeding frenzy. "Remember my teachings and more shall be yours." He then left them, but he came to realize that his creations would need to be watched over, especially during this early stage of creation. He was a god who would see them become worthy of the gift of the gods eternal existance, undeath as far as he was concerned. But it also made him realize that he would have to branch out abit further.
He would have to become more than he was too, much like the mortals he would have to grow aswell.
"Come forth. Claim the understanding you need." He spoke out to the crowmen who were getting their fill of food and drinks, one big in particular tilted it's head and took a leap out of the fountain of gore and wandered up to his creation.
Reverion held out his taloned hand and summoned a tome. "Touch it and you shall become more akin to me." It didn't take the large Fowlfolk long to approach, stretching out it's own claws to take hold of the tome with it's bloodied talons. Then it opened it and looked, and within moments there was a change in the creature's eyes, as if it had awakened from a slumber. It was now looking around with newfound understanding and wit, to the point it would speak- and then caw to his fellow kin to come and look into the tome.
The large one had distinguished itself in it's initiative, it was the only sign the god needed. A distinguishing from the rest.
"You have shown yourself extra worthy. I name you Bloodbeak, you shall be the first to know how I feel. If you are willing, come forth and hold out your talons." The god waited patiently, and did not have to wait long for the large crowlike figure to jump forwards, it's eyes telling that it was intrigued albeit with some caution. Yet it did as it was asked. Then it was given the gift of undeath itself, it could feel as life was slipping away from it, being replaced by unlife. It's black eyes turning red, it's touch growing cold, it's need to breathe... gone. Replaced by a feeling of power aswell, as the creature was bestowed further power by it's god. Becoming a paragon of it's kind, and atop it's head a crown took shape. To mark it as their leader and guide.
"That'll do. Hear his words and heed them, for they shall be the same as mine. Now go forth my creations, claim what is yours. Claim it with kindness and kin."
Summary: Reverion further bestows some gifts to his creations, in the shape of a tome of knowledge, a pool of endless food and drink. And then giving the largest and most impressive among them undeath itself as a vampire, becoming a hero of his kind and ruler with a crown, to symbolize but also protect his kind. (Caw Bloodbeak)
MP:
- 1 Pool of warding off hunger. (Artifact) - 1 Tome of Tutorship (Basic knowledge of how to build simple huts/nests, forage, speak, read, write, create fires, cook etc) - 1 Hero (Caw Bloodbeak) - 1 Protection against life and death (Undead vampiric blessing) - 1 Crown of Fowlfolk protection (Artifact. May magically protect friendly nearby Fowlfolk)
The sun shone harshly upon a new world. Moisture fled the endless desert, sheltering in the wide crater punched into the face of Galbar. Day after day bleached the rock white and red and ivory-yellow, leaving dunes and mesas and vast salt pans where there could have been life.
There was... a lake.
High in the north of the planet, where the seasons stretched the days into long hours of twilight and the nights into maddening gloom, the mid-summer sun rolled over a great salt plain. The land stared up at the sky, and went blind, losing all solidity and distinction, melting into an endless puddle of mirage, like water. Winter came, and night, and the mirage froze solid, and when the sun rose again months later, there was nothing left but ice.
Ice, white and flat in every direction. It multiplied the light tenfold, and the land was as blinding to the eye as it was blind itself, an inescapable wash of cold sunlight that cut deep into the retina. Even when the chilling winds of death swept moisture over the surface of the ice, it came in an endless, shapeless mist of grey, such that a wanderer could be lost between the cold below him and the cold above, unable to tell the sky from the earth.
A lone crystal strider cracked itself out of the ice, and staggered starving through that place, its optic veins flooded with empty stimulus, yet unable to find so much as a single rock to ponder for its sustenance. Searching, searching, searching, it waited for the coming of night, when it would be able to subsist on meagre meals of astrology and aurorae until the coming of merciless Day.
No, not like this.
It was bright, bright, bright...
...But there WAS a lake.
Midsummer came again, and there was a second mirage, a little further south, connected to the first by a channel. Winter passed, and when the sun shone upon the ice, it melted.
Great floes wailed and screamed and groaned against one another as they broke apart. Wind and waves broke them into curious shapes, beautifully blue and dusted with snow, ready to roll and break at any moment, sending any would-be ice walker deep into the crushing darkness of the polar water. Pools of pure blue melt filled upon the white flats and froze solid again. Galbar turned, and the water became slush, then brash, then ice once more.
Currents of lethal freezing brine and life-giving oxygen circulated with the motions of the ice and the sea and the wind. Krill sifted food from the open waters while they could, and when the ice came again, their starved bodies were gnawed upon by starfish that starved in turn. Here and there, a seal eked out a living on cold-blooded fish, desperately packing on fat before the dark and the cold came again. Starving each winter, yet unable to leave the only source of water in the desert, the fish caught in this trap clung on from summer to summer. This world was ruled by the passage of the Sun.
There was... a hand.
Wavering rays of sunlight cut across the vast desert, like claws, like knives. They tore up the dry surface of Galbar, raising up a hot and angry cloud, and through this cloud the sun gouged and tore at the earth like a demented animal, ripping up stone and sand as if searching for a memory.
No, not that hand.
The solar gorges were deep, walled by hard bedrock that would not be eroded by wind. Their edges had been raised high, like welts of broken flesh under the scourge, blocking the dust storms that would have mercifully blocked the sun. At the bottom of each valley, air circled and circled, unable to escape, growing hotter, hotter, hotter, until at last night came and the earth was permitted to cool.
There was another.
A small, bright beam of light wandered the face of Galbar, flashing hither and thither until at last it came upon the Tree. There it shone, from the first break of dawn to the last moment of dusk, a straight, clear beam connecting the life of the earth with the light of the heavens above.
Everyone with eyes to see, saw; from the far west of the crater hemisphere to the east, from the crystalline ice-striders to the worshipful crow-people, from the goats to the goblins, they all saw the Guiding Ray, and knew that where it led was the center of all things, the birthplace of the universe, the seat of all gods, and it could not be hidden, come storm, come dust, until night.
The Tree of Life grew a bright and healthy green in the light of the Ray, and blossomed. And the blossoms blew on a gentle wind to the hollow heart of the Tree, where the sun gazed down into the Scroll and saw the name that was written upon it, as it had been, as it would always be: the Itzala.
Ah yes, thought the Sun. There I am.
Itzal wakes up, remembering almost nothing of the time when he was growing. He recalls a lake, and creates two polar seas in the far north, conjoined by a strait.
One half of the polar sea is permanently frozen and impossible to navigate by sight due to the lack of landmarks, featureless cold fog, and above all, sun-blindness. One of the Eidolon's crystal striders forms out of ice here, and the brightness frazzles its optic fibre nervous system a little, but it barely manages to survive by doing enough stargazing in winter to make it through the featureless summer.
The other half of the polar sea is 'ruled by the Sun'- it thaws seasonally, and is filled with polar sea life, heavily dependent on the summer melt. The winters are brutal, but there's nowhere for the sea life to escape to, so they cling on and wait for the sun.
Then Itzal recalls a hand, confusing the Hand of Mysteries with Misri's slashing claws, and slashes deep valleys into the desert of Galbar. Much like Death Valley in California, these valleys trap solar heat, becoming unlivable for any ordinary being- even more so than the rest of the desert.
Itzal then creates a holy site, the Guiding Ray, to shine upon the Khodex and remind himself of what his own name is. The Guiding Ray is a relatively innocuous sunbeam, but can be seen anywhere on Galbar's crater hemisphere, an unusually bright ray of sunlight that points directly to the Tree of Life and makes its location impossible to hide. It may one day be useful as a navigational tool, but it may also call unwanted attention to the Tree, even from space.
10 Might.
-1 Might to create the Blinding Sea, empowered by Curses to be worse. -1 Might to create the Solar Sea, empowered by Curses to be worse. -1 Might to create the Solar Gorges, empowered by Curses to be worse. -1 Might to create the Guiding Ray, a Holy Site co-located with the Tree of Life.
Take a basketful of good herbs - ideally thyme, rosemary and mint. Place these in a mortar and pound them gently. If you do not have a mortar and pestle, you may grind them with your hooves - just make sure they are clean before you do.
Once the herbs have been pounded, take good oil of either flax or olive. Rapeseed will do in a pinch, but if you do use it, add a fistful of dried mushroom powder for a deeper flavour. Steep the herbs in the oil and leave it to sit for a full day.
The following day, take twigs from a tree sapling - soft ones are preferred, but in a pinch, harder ones will do too. Do not use dry branches, for these have a dusty flavour. A rule of hoof is to take two twigs for each guest. Break them into pieces a little larger than bite-sized. Toss them in a bowl with fresh clover and chicory. Mix well and set aside.
Take pebbles of good quality shale - river-polished shale is preferred. For better flavour and presentation, use pebbles of varying colours. Pour your herbal oil with the herbs into a bowl. Dig the pebbles in the oil and put them briefly in a fire and let them get hot. While they roast, pour the oil over the twigs, clover and chicory salad.
Finally, place the hot rocks in a decorative pattern atop the salad. Season to taste. By Talyr’s graces, it will come out good.
Location:The Void, then Galbar. Interacting with: The surrounding environments of a particular locale on the north end of the impact crater. Mentions: Galbar in general, the Khodex & Veins.
After her encounter with the Khodex of Frustration, as she called it, Rúnaritari found herself laying upon her back on a platform of nothingness within the darkness of the void that made up the reality she had been born into. Holding up her corrupted arm, which she had grown quite comfortable with, Rúna idly traced runes into the nothingness, casually deriving shape and meaning from the Veins of the Cosmos where there was innately none. She briefly considered painting runes into the cosmos, following the random patterns that she found, but decided against it for right now. With how much the veins shifted about it wouldn’t be very exciting to have her work constantly erased.
Letting her arm flop down onto her stomach suddenly, Rúna frowned. She was… Admittedly bored. A thousand and more runes bristled within her mind, each of them capable of so many things… And yet there was nothing to use them on! How tedious. Rolling onto her stomach, Runa brought her hands together and set her chin upon them to rest. Watching from her corner of nothing as the Khodex of Frustration was hurled back, forth, up, and around by beings coming and going to and from it. What fun! What entertainment! To see everyone learn of their own accord just how frustrating that roll of paper was. And to think it was the only entertainment here. At least whatever force that placed it here could have placed enough for everyone to have one, though admittedly she would’ve preferred a book to write in.
But as Rúna pondered and wondered to herself as she watched the game of cosmic pseudo-tennis take place, something new entered into the scene. Something… Very new. And very unexpected. A stone, massive and blank, rolled into the void. Where exactly had that come from? Looking around the void, Rúna couldn’t determine anything that would’ve led her to identify whoever or whatever might’ve made it… But there wasn’t even the beginning of a hint towards its origin. How interesting… Looking back to the rock, Rúna blinked a few times before tilting her head. Would this too turn itself blank, if written upon? There was only one good way to find out. Reaching out her corrupted hand, Rúna nearly began the process of writing a simple rune into its surface. A simple task, even from this distance, but just before she could begin she saw the game of cosmic pseudo-tennis take an unexpected turn: The Khodex, briefly idle, was now hurled towards the rock…
And in a matter of moments a great deal of things happened all at once.
The cloud of smoke that broiled from the hole in the Veil Between Spaces caused Rúna no small amount of concern. At least she was far away, right? Squinting with concern at what was happening, Rúna brought her hands apart and moved to stand, but mere moments into the motion she was frozen by a sensation that she had never felt before, and hopefully would never feel again: Claws scratching against still-living vertebrae. This prompted a reaction so viscerally uncomfortable that Rúna was nearly made to heave, saved only by the fact that her divine form had consumed nothing and was blissfully unaware of the associated sensations. As seconds turned into minutes and minutes turned into time unknown yet compressed, Rúna found herself nearly swallowed by the smoke. Yet she found her discomfort released by the most unlikely of things: An explosion.
The explosion and its subsequent effects sent Rúna flying through the cosmos as the smoke was pushed away. Flung from her plot of nothingness like one might flick away a bothersome insect, Rúna, for the first time in her currently brief life, was beholden to a new emotion: Fear. Something fundamental had changed with existence. She could feel it almost immediately. Like being robbed of a coat on a cold winter’s day. This new sensation of enfeeblement and powerlessness was not one that Rúna found enjoyable in the slightest, and so after a few moments she was able to orient her mind towards a goal and found herself landing somewhat harshly on solid nothingness once more… At least, for a few moments.
Bringing herself upright from her crouched landing stance and looking down towards the rock, Rúna pondered on just what had happened when she found herself surrounded by the sensation of movement. That… Should not be happening. Yet it was. Attempting to will herself to stand on nothingness once more, Rúna found herself unable to accomplish her favorite trick and was then promptly struck by a new wave of panic. Flailing as she lost all stability, Rúna hurtled towards the rock at a pace that she would never be comfortable with. Screwing her eyes shut as she approached the never-ending sandstorm that engulfed most of the planet Rúna found herself engulfed in sand and tossed about chaotically by the strong winds raging around the rock. The sensation of thousands of grains of sand blasting at her skin every second was entirely unpleasant, and yet thankfully it only lasted a few moments.
Thrown through a wall of wind, Rúna felt an immense pain rocket from her head to her heels as she made impact with solid ground… And then a few moments later she noticed that she was otherwise fine, although unable to move. Reaching out, she laid hands upon the coarse rock that she had landed upon. Stability without effort. Interesting. Opening her eyes carefully, Rúna beheld a sky of tan and a land of blue before her… Wait…
Now realizing what exactly was wrong, Rúnaritari frowned. Taking a moment to roll her shoulders and crack her knuckles, Rúna proceeded to gently bend downwards until her toes could touch the ground. Placing her hands firmly upon the stone, she pushed firmly against the constraining earth with a grunt. Just a few moments later she was free as her antlers were pulled free from the embrace of the earth, although she kicked up a fairly robust cloud of dust to do so. Sinking to her knees with a sigh, Rúna shook her head vigorously to clear the remaining dirt from her antlers. Standing up and brushing herself off, Rúna elected to not deliberately walk back into a sandstorm and instead chose to investigate the clearing that she had been gracefully deposited into instead.
After walking for some time, Rúna found herself standing at the edge of a cliff overlooking a vast expanse of water and islands. In the middle of it all, so far away and yet so easy to see, was a jet black and glossy cocoon, suspending the Khodex (of Frustration) within. Letting out a hum, Rúna elected to go and see what might develop around that. But first, she wanted to write. Taking a step back from the cliff. Rúna knelt down and etched an oval into the stone before standing up and raising her corrupted hand high above her head. Spinning her arm in a circle before pointing fiercely at the etched oval. Rúna began softly chanting in a language that she both did and did not know, bidding the earth to rise.
As she continued to mutter to herself, the oval began to gradually rise from the ground. The stone continued to rise until it was eye-level with Rúna, leaving it ten feet tall to match her current stature. With this exertion done, Rúna stepped forward and brought her corrupted hand up to begin carving. With each rune she carved to detail her experiences with falling so far and being buffeted about by the sandstorm, and into each rune she poured the experiences and memories associated with the event. After a few minutes, she was finished. The stone was covered in runes detailing the story, and central among them were two runes of “Falling” and “Blowing sand”. Thus did the first Runestone come into existence, containing the runes that would protect someone from falls and the harsh blowing sands of the sandstorm that consumed the planet.
Stepping back, Rúna nodded to herself, satisfied. It wasn’t the easiest journal to keep, but it was better than doing nothing. After all, if it wasn’t written down: Did it really happen? Cleaning her talon off, Rúna noticed that a bit of gentle wind began to surround the stone, and within moments it had picked up a fair bit of sand from the surrounding area. It made its own sandstorm? Interesting. Tapping her talon to her chin, Rúna pondered if it was creating an environment reflective of the story. How interesting… But where then might be the fall?
Shrugging to herself, Rúna stepped around the stone and began to casually walk down a stairway of nothingness towards the bottom of the crater. It was after a few steps that she paused to look back at the stone, and then down. Scratching at her chin once more, she shrugged. Hopefully whoever attempted that method could survive it, or at least tried a smaller fall first. Turning back to her own descent, Rúna set her eyes on the cocoon once more.
It was worth checking out at least once.
Rúnaritari is goofing off in the void when the void gets deleted. She’s pulled to the planet along with everyone else and has a completely graceful landing that she totally planned out. Once she’s pulled herself free of this graceful landing, she elects to write down what all happened in a “journal” that she makes out of stone, creating the first Runestone. Then she sets off to take an up-close look at the cocoon the Khodex has been encased in.
Rúna begins with 10 might.
Rúna spends 1 Might to create a Runestone, a holy site engraved with two runes that maintains the environment required to fully bind to those runes.
The world of Galbar had one central area of life, where the khodex laid and a great tree grew over it amid an ocean of primordial water. Already, civilization had graced this pocket of life, even culinary delight had reared its curious head. However, as Tuuni observed the ways and wants of the world below, he couldn't help but feel the tug of inequality coming from the back of Galbar, wehre an arid wasteland stretched forever. With resolve, Tuuni journeyed through the desert, to the exact opposite side of the world. There he planted his feet in the ground for the first time and gave a wide grin. "Well, how do you like that?" He said to no one in particular. A dry wind answered him, the only companion along the beige sea of dust. Even as a god he could feel the peeling heat on the top of his hairy head and looking down to where his long beard brushed the ground, he couldn't help but find distaste as he noticed the droplets of moisture that hid inside evaporate before his eyes. Slowly, very slowly, a frown curled downward on his old face and for the first time in his brief life, he wasn't exactly too happy about this. He bit gnawed on his knuckle, though no one was to blame, really. "Very well," he resolved and looked up to the sky. He squinted and pointed a finger, thumb cocked and ready. "Bang! Pap! Pow! Pow! Bizat! Boom! Ralk!" He fired off little shots of divine power at the sky and as they collided with the atmosphere, something unexpected happened. The bolts cut through the fabric of reality, leaving large buzzing wounds in the sky and before the eye could see beyond the rend, large whiskered dragon heads erupted forward. The two closest wounds and thus closest dragons came out twirling together as if in love. Their eyes river pebbles, their tongues of lilies, and their water sparkling. As torrents of water they collided and rebounded until they slammed into the dry ground below, leaving dancing water falls in their wake that collided at random points, generating smaller temporary falls. From where they landed, rivulets and streams burst across the landscape, eager to find purchase. "You shall be the falls named..." Tuuni tugged his beard. "Hermes and Xiaoli, the river lovers." Another pair of dragons emerged from twin wounds. These ones were stoic but close as if old friends. They were strong currents and when they landed, great and strong brooks and streams ploughed through the land, colliding with the waters of the lovers. "You shall be," Tuuni started, "the falls of Shangshi and K'nell, the brothers." Two more dragons emerged, one small and wily, twisting through the air. With every twist it made, a larger dragon covered it from the sun, as if protecting it in a cloak of care. This strange dance made it so when they hit the ground, the waterfalls they left in their place fell at an angle that disrespected gravity, as if defiant incarnate. Tuuni chuckled. "What better a name than Apostate and his ward, Lorelei." Their waters like the others combined and thus, a great river started to form, cutting west and cutting east, but before it finished a final dragon came blazing from the final wound in the sky. It was larger than all the others combined, and caught the sun in such a way it seemed a jewel. When it hit the ground, it did not land on the arid dust, but chose the pooling water and the baby river and such when it landed, a great and mighty force sent the river both and west, splitting the world into a north and a south. Before Tuuni could even name this one, he was forced to run after the errant ends, a big smile on his face as he used his godly power to shape its path and to avoid crushing any emerging life with the twisting torrent. Even as he approached the mountains that lipped the oasis of life he quickly summoned a statue of a dragon an either side to split the rivers in twain so that they may curl around the oasis without harm and empty into it in such a way that it did not blast through the mountains proper. "That one was a lot of work," Tuuni said to himself as he watched the blue take over the arid. "I'll name it Benea, because that sounds like the name of a piece of work."
Silence, well silence except for the rushing water. Tuuni sat on the water between all his falls, their endless torrent of blue ever falling from the wounds of the sky. He didn't notice it before, but Benea had hit the ground so hard that there were now bits of land floating between the falls, connected by similarly floating rivers, creating a web of water and land amid the very sky. Tuuni nodded to himself and looked down at the riparian floor, now drenched. There was water, but not much else. Yet. He clicked his foot against the ground and up sprouted small dancing daffodils. Their pedals flapped as if to talk and all at once, they started to tell the story of this creation, all but one. This small flower seemed to regard Tuuni before asking, "Hey, won't all this water eventually fill up the basin?" Tuuni looked down at the flower and thought to himself. "No." "Why, or rather, why not?" Tuuni waved a sage hand. "Go spread your seeds along the banks of the world river, so that your kind may sprout along it and bring word the denizens of Galbar of a new paradise that shall be known as Shangshi La!" "Wait, that didn't answer my question at all..." Tuuni put his hands on his hips and sucked in a relieved breath, taking in the wild sights. "Gorgeous." The Daffotale sighed. "Seems a bit hammed, but whatever."
World river is now a thing. It gets its water from a central location on the opposite side of the planet to the basin of life. It is supplied by seven waterfalls that originate in ethereal wounds in the atmosphere. Sky islands and connecting sky rivers exist between these falls. Dancing flowers that speak and tell the story of the creation as well as whatever else they see now grow along the banks of the world river, telling people to go to the area with the falls for a good time. Tuuni named this spot Shangshi La.
A dragon statue in the east and in the west of the Khodex basin split the river to prevent it from going directly into the basin but rather curl around before emptying in gentle water falls. Check out the map below.
MP: 10 World River and Falls: 6 MP Daffotales: 1 MP Western Dragon Statue: 1MP Eastern Dragon Statue: 1MP
It had lasted for an eternity. It had lasted for a second. The mushroom had long since passed from the land of the living, and it had only just entered its hunger slumber. In the event of the Big Bang, time skipped millennia in all directions. Simultaneously, the mushroom was dead and alive; it was being stretched and squashed, bent and straightened. The only constant was a constant bombardment of energy; an amount that could be measured in neither joules nor degrees. Energy nearly smelted the surface; the cave channels dug by the bull that were not sheltered under at least several tens of meters of rock were shaken and boiled. Light like a supernova filled many of the caverns through brief cracks and left all sorts of marks behind, some burns, some living. Yes, living matter was beginning to infest the caves. Unrefined, wild matter, but it was alive nonetheless.
And sustenance had come at last.
The first victim was an unfortunate mold that spawned right next to the catatonic mushroom. One would think that it had not been sleeping, but prowling, for like a predator, a curtain of slime molds shot out of the biscuit-sized mushroom and consumed the hapless mold. Having tasted flesh, the fungus continued searching, finding spores, bacteria, plants, even small critters - none were safe from the ravenous creature. In a short while, the mushroom had covered its entire cavern in slime molds. Mycelium had begun to dig into the earth around the cave, finding the soil now rich in minerals and other fungi trying to establish itself. The temperature had warmed considerably, and the air was moist and dank: perfect for a growing mushroom. As the mycelium thickened and the slime molds expanded, the heart of the fungus at last shook off the last of its sleep.
It began to recollect. A memory rocked its mycelium, and across the planar barriers, the memory became movement.
The explosion of energy that had inundated the Material Realm, had caused the simultaneous initiation of multiple overflows in various points and locations across its counterpart.
Everywhere and all at once, the parallel dimension on the other side of reality was immediately awash with energy, the sheer potential of which was enough to, for a split second, form cracks in the barrier separating the two realms. Very quickly, however, the Astral recovered, with the very same essence that caused their appearance helping in mending them shut.
The force of the energy rebounded on the ethereal walls of the realm, turning in on itself and heading back towards the deepest recesses where the very first existences were just beginning to awaken.
“I… Think…” came a groggy voice, echoing out into the emptiness of the Astral Realm. “We… Think…”
One of the first to have gained even a semblance of awareness had, unsurprisingly, been that very same creature the overseer of the Astral Realm initially had thought of as an intruder. The fledgling fungal mind resonated with the ever-present astral energy suffusing its immediate surroundings; as blisteringly hot as it was frigid cold, the primordial essence called to it, and the consciousness obliged - the proverbial moth racing towards the flame.
Just as its material body would consume anything in its way in search of sustenance, so would its astral self open itself up to the vast expanse before it, taking everything in. The moment it did, a second, miniature Big Bang rippled through the entirety of its existence. A myriad thoughts and emotions that would never have had the chance to be thought of and felt, overtook the being, no, beings.
Like the crew of a small boat, the mycelium consciousness found itself stranded in the middle of a raging mindstorm, precariously teetering on the verge of capsizing. It retracted wordlessly - screaming was unknown to it. It felt fear at first, its forming essence tossed across the wild seas of the birth of thought, emotion and the mind. It felt confusion, which stuck together with fear, but searched for answers instead of places to hide. Confusion turned to curiosity, as patterns in the mindstorm began to show. A part of the mycelium mind chose to break out of the malleable consciousness and willingly jump into the storm.
“I fly!” it said.
“Come back!” said a section of the remaining consciousness. But the separatist had already soared above and beyond the tumultuous waters of cognition. It read the waves and the patterns like a text. It could never hope to overpower them, but it did not need to; with time and understanding, its movements could be learned and even harnessed. The separatist turned to the left and was swallowed by a current of rage and sorrow, but it was not harmed by its destructive nature. Instead, it surfed on the current, sailing it back to meet its fellows of the mycelium consciousness, which in itself was beginning to break apart as more saw the separatist’s mastery of the emotional storm.
“Teach us!” The cloud disintegrated further. “Teach us to master this realm as you do.” The separatist stood unharmed, but not untouched. The trip through the vast realm of the Astral had changed it, and it was no longer a cloud-like form, but a vaguely humanoid shape, hidden underneath a wide contour of a mushroom cap. It reached into the cloud and played with its malleable form. A thousand voices were still and attentive, gazing back at the capped one. Eventually, when a break in the storm stilled the emotions somewhat, the capped one spoke: “Now! Follow me!” With a powerful pull, the capped one pulled the incorporeal cloud into the storm. The capped one did as before and scouted out the patterns, yet with a need to divert so much focus to the cloud in its hands, its calculations were slower than usual.
A wrong step to the right led to one arm being pulled wide, flinging cloud spores into the storm, never to be seen again.
Two steps more than necessary led it to fling spores to the left. It persevered, but the buzz of the cloud betrayed fear and distrust of the capped one’s capabilities.
“You will doom us all if you cannot focus!” a section of the cloud shamed. The capped one felt a new sensation, one that stirred up the storm around them.
“Control yourself!” demanded another voice. The capped one felt its form ripple and rip - it had lost the pattern and was now trapped within the wicked winds.
“We’re dead! We’re all dead!” cried the cloud.
“N-no! Stay calm! You’ll only make it worse,” cautioned the capped one, but even it was losing hope. It pushed some more steps forward and then felt a sharp sting of pain. The winds had torn at its skin, threatening to undo its entire shape. In a last-ditch effort to survive, the capped one collected what it had left of the cloud and laid down on the astral ground, its cap functioning as a shield against the storm. The shield being part of itself, however, meant that the capped one felt every bite of rage, every cut of sorrow, every sting of fear, and the storms threatened to blow it away with every breath. As the capped one's essence began to fray, swirling torrents of grief and ecstasy intertwined with tendrils of loneliness and camaraderie. Colors with no name, beyond mortal comprehension, pulsated in violent harmony, the hues and shades representing the ever-shifting state the consciousness had found itself in.
Suddenly, the capped one, submerged in this maelstrom of sentiments, reached a point of utmost despair. "Is there no way out? Can anyone hear me?" it cried out, desperate and silent, into its mind. This elicited a renewed, mixed reaction as a chorus of voices from the cloud responded, some mocking, others in sheer disappointment.
"You! Our beacon of hope? Hah!" sneered one voice.
"Why did we ever trust you?" another lamented, dripping with regret.
Yet, outside its mind, this intense inner struggle manifested in a spectacle never before seen. The astral form of the capped one radiated an intense, blinding light, illuminating the dark corners of the astral realm. Its brilliance was so overpowering that it caused ripples throughout the dimension, momentarily pacifying the turbulent storm of astral energy that had been, unbeknownst to it, swirling around itself for quite some time.
The blinding radiance from the capped one didn't just ripple through the astral realm, it pierced through the layers of dimensions, reaching spaces far beyond the reach a mere mortal existence such as itself would ever try approaching. Obviously, this did not happen by virtue of its own power, no. The main culprit for this amazing feat had been none other than the mark the overlord of this realm had left on it in passing. This mark acted as a beacon, allowing the deity to keep an eye on the creature's evolution, even if only from the periphery of his attention.
The sudden burst of energy from the mark was impossible to ignore. It tugged at the deity's essence, almost as if calling out to him. As the waves of energy washed over him, he discerned the turbulence, the raw emotion, and the profound struggle of the fungus, now manifested as the capped one. Intrigued and somewhat concerned, the deity decided to move closer, his form gliding effortlessly through the astral plane, drawn inexorably to the source of this disturbance.
Emerging beside the capped one, the deity studied it, seeing beyond its glowing astral form and into its very essence. The change, the evolution, and the sheer potential of this being was evident. It was a peculiar amalgamation of mycelium thought, primal emotion, and something more, something nascent that even the deity had not foreseen. A smirk of satisfaction briefly played on the deity's faceless form. "Ah, I was correct with my foresight," he mused to himself. "This creature has grown... interesting."
Gently, almost tenderly, the deity extended a tendril of pure energy towards the capped one. It wasn't a physical touch, but rather a connection at a deeper, more intimate level. The deity intended to probe once again, yet this time sought to understand, to see what had led to this spectacular explosion of energy and emotion. As the tendril made contact, a jolt of understanding passed between the two beings. Raw memories, thoughts, feelings, and experiences from the capped one flooded into the deity's consciousness. Simultaneously, the deity’s sheer magnificence and awe inspiring, radiant aura pierced through the mycelium’s mindscape, acting like a counterforce to the fierce, metaphysical winds that plagued the inner world of the fungus.
In that brief, infinite moment, a connection was established, and the capped one realized the storm had stilled. The awesome sensation of the deity’s power left the creature weak in the knees and arms, and so it dropped the cloud, which sank gently towards the astral floor. The capped one did not know what to say or do in response, so it stood there dumbstruck, another whole new sensation. At its feet, the cloud disintegrated completely, and the ethereal ground sprouted with small, slimy red knobs and nibs that oozed a faint glow. As the slime expanded slowly outwards in search of sustenance, more central regions sprouted small, crimson, veiny baubles that seemed to pump and flex, nearly bursting with energy. Tendrils of astral mycelium spread out along the slime trail from these central regions, and the mushrooms kept growing. All along, the capped one gradually recovered its awareness and addressed the astral overlord: “Teacher! Mentor! Sage! How? How did you still the storm so easily? Who are you, great being?”
To a god, listening in on a mortal existence’s thoughts was as easy as water squeezing through a gap between two rocks. They had to, or else how would they be able to know their subject’s wants and needs, should they really care that much about their creations in the first place. This specific deity, however, hadn’t really bothered with such things, even before being brought into this Universe. There was one exception… but that being had long perished by now, probably.
The morbid thought soured the deity’s mood some, and for a split second the divine aura flickered, giving plenty a chance for the storm to return. Fierce psychic winds, razor sharp and biting, blew over the capped one. Nevertheless, it didn’t take much time for the aura to stabilize the place once more - serene quietness now only remained. Then, a voice, more akin to a whisper, replied.
“A being, sure. Great? Unsure. It takes a lot for someone to be labeled as great; I used to know someone that was great, yet I do not consider myself to be their equal…" The tone in the voice of the deity betrayed feelings of remorse and longing, and after a few moments of silence, it continued.
“You seek power over yourself, you seek to solve that which troubles you. I can certainly provide help, but you must first answer me this: who are you?”
The capped one hesitated, a fibrous hand lifting to touch its face with a gentle pat. “Who am I?” A stillness followed, and a weak waft of cool wind betrayed an aura of uneasiness within the creature. Around it, the glowing mushrooms and slime mould eyed it curiously. A cloud of crimson spores oozed slowly out of one mushroom and floated gently towards the capped one. “Who are you?” it repeated.
“Saviour? Saviour!” a mycelium vein burbled with excited pulsations.
“A fool with heart and no head, nothing more.” A fattening mushroom trunk twisted austerely.
Slime mould lapped at the capped one’s four foot-like appendages. “A guide, perhaps? A pilot, even?”
“A pilot?” replied the capped one.
“Pilot, pilot!” the mycelium cheered.
“Puh! It is hardly worthy of such a title, the coward. Had it not been for the Teacher, the capped one’s foolish attempt to–”
“Pilot! Pilot! Pilot!” the mycelium and slime mould coalesced into a pedestal beneath the capped one’s feet. Ghosts of spores morphed into currents on the wind, washing over the Pilot with red, glowing dust, painting beautiful patterns across its fibrous form. Looking down, the Pilot could see more mushrooms sprouting out of the astral ground, some growing pseudopods and even proper feet to move around. The spores spread across the nearby fields of emotions, drawing the colony to spread further into the astral realm. The capped one, now no longer alone in that title, looked up at the mighty visage of the god. “I am the Pilot.”
"Pilot, hmm... Pilot, pilot, pilot…" The deity mused, mulling over the word for some time. He looked down from above at the small existence that led the charge, before surveying the ever-expanding mycelium consciousness around it.
"An adequate title, if not admirable. Do you consider yourself the representative of the collective, or are you just one of the many pilots amongst your peers? You certainly have the support of many, but do you have the support of all?"
The Pilot looked around. “I-it is clear that not all believe that I am worthy of the title.” It exchanged glances with the non-existent, yet very perceivable stern expression of some of the larger mushrooms. “But I… I believe I speak for many here, at least.”
“We shall see for how long,” conceded a mushroom sharply. “Do not make a mistake again.”
“Then–”
“We object!” came a protest from a field of little red fungus knobs. One of them grew swiftly in size and pushed itself out of the ground. “We lost too many due to this one’s recklessness. We will choose a Pilot of our own - one who thinks and strategizes. We will not follow the guidance of this spontaneous dancer. We will grow our own path.”
“Oh… I see–”
“Then we withdraw, too!” proclaimed the large mushroom who had just promised their support. The capped one deflated. The mycelium and slime moulds connecting the colonies began to wilt and curl, eventually pulling away to see new lands to expand into. The Pilot sighed.
“Then I hope we should not come to blows in the future, friends.” To the sound of no response, the Pilot turned back to the deity, its mycelium throne wilting and separating as the support of the outer nodes faded away. “It seems my estimate was exaggerated.”
The deity nodded his assent; "Everything happens for a reason. Fate has ordained that you walk a different path than others, and it is up to you to prove that your path is the correct one…"
With that comment, the deity closed in on the, now, lonesome fungus. His solid, golden eyes forming iridescent, nebulaic colored swirls. "On that note, I believe a little competition never hurt anyone," he added and rose up from his crouched position. Suddenly, his eyes flashed, his aura gaining a domineering aspect that allowed no dissent; the Astral Realm quaked, bending to the deity's will in a bid to funnel astral energy into the entirety of the mortal existence before him - Pilot and non-pilots included.
"You shall lead and be led, for learning how to do the former assumes you have learned how to do the latter."
And with that, the deity returned to its previous, neutral disposition, before addressing the Pilot - and by extension every other bright and potential leader of the fungal colonies. "I will allow you all to make this realm your home, but make sure to treat it as such. I assume I don't have to explicitly say what will happen, should any danger come to it due to your actions, right?"
“Of course, Teacher,” replied the Pilot. It fidgeted briefly. “May we call you that? Teacher?”
The deity raised a proverbial eyebrow at the immediate response from the sentient tuber. "You… may, albeit teaching opportunities will be few and far between… Farewell, and good luck," the deity said as his visage vanished, merging into the astral backdrop.
The Pilot and its colony then set off on the path of discovery of what sentient life was all about. All the while, they sang praises to their Teacher who had show them how to still the storms of the Astral Realm. They did not know it then, but their affinity for songs of prayer would later earn them their name:
The Cantars.
The Big Bang wakes up the fungus biscuit in the caves under Galbar’s surface. It goes super saiyan and transcends into the Astral realm. It then begins to separate, first into two consciousnesses, then into several. Then the Astral realm erupts into an emotional storm as life all over Galbar begins to feel. A leader among the mushrooms tries to guide the spores safely through, but fails and almost dies. Big Ull comes to save the day and is impressed that the mushrooms still exist. He asks what they are and the leader contemplates on their behalf. Ull then asks if the leader has legitimacy, at which point it turns out that they only sorta have, and lots of spores and mushrooms break out of the colony to found their own. Post ends with Ull proclaiming that every elected leader of a mushroom colony may lead so long as they maintain the support of their fellows. This leader is known as the Pilot.
1MP (Ull'yang's expenditure) - Empower the mycelium colonies with the ability to elect a single heroic individual each from all the different voices within each colony. 2MP (Hummus’ expenditure) - Create the Cantars: A race of sapient myconids with a powerful and inherent connection to the Astral Realm. A colony may be composed of hundreds to thousands of square metres of mycelium strands that dig through the earth and pump nutrients back to one of several mental nodes. Depending on political and cultural affairs in the Astral Realm, certain nodes will hold power over the colony and choose how it develops in the Material Plane. While cantareps in the Astral Realm are sophisticated and elegant, they can be feeble-minded and drone-like in the Material Plane. Only the Pilot, the Material representative of the colony, maintains a level of sophistication on par with their Astral counterpart. Eating a cantarep weakens the barrier between the Astral and Material for the consumer. Cantars can also be called cappas, shroomers, fuzzers or [insert colour] fluff. Non-pilots in the Material Plane are referred to grunts or clumps.
A Pilot surrounded by cantar grunts in the Material Realm
The Goddess hummed as she worked. She ran her hands through the regolith and stone of the dead world bit by bit. Breaking and binding, molding and shaping- forming structure through sheer perseverance. The Khodex had not yet kept the promise she had foreseen but soon, soon it would. In the meantime, Sylia worked, flexing her mind so as it would not go dull. What had started as a simple stacked stone house with a simple door and one open window, had quickly become a small village and then unable to stop, had formed into a large town. Silent but for the steady clanking of stone upon stone and her ever present humming.
It had not been difficult to work the land's nonexistent substance into material suitable for house making. Though, Sylia knew no one else could probably have done it and certainly not any of lesser standing. Those also promised by the Khodex. Having used up her strength or having had it stolen from her, she was far too dilapidated to truly make anything last. All thanks to that scroll up above.
That scroll that- A sharp sense of impending doom flooded into the Goddess and she looked towards the Khodex. She stopped her working and stood as fear and elation began to well up inside of her, banshing the doom. The promise was at last going to be kept and she would bear witness to it. She would then be able to commence her great works. Delve for her contributions, create and create and create!
Sylia opened her arms towards the smoking world, tendrils of wrong washed over her as she dipped back her head and shut her eyes. Everything would be alright.
And then with a bang, the universe was at last born.
To even try to describe what she felt during that time would have been inadequate to how it made her feel. Like a blanket of rock comforting the earth that she was. What could be, what was going to be, what would never happen- the time blurred and she felt herself slipping into euphoria and then, quite suddenly, she was standing before the Khodex.
Awareness filtered down from her starstruck high a bit too quickly. A weight had attached itself to her and she wobbled, catching herself upon the blackened cocoon. Her eyes began to adjust and Sylia was taken aback at how everything had changed. A blue sky was overhead, the smell of water and salt was upon the breeze that ruffled her metallic hair and the ground beneath her feet- she wiggled her toes in the dirt and let out a relieved sigh.
The Khodex had done its task and now it could rest. She placed a hand upon it and said, "Thank you."
Eventually, she pulled her hand away and placed both on her hips. There was so much to do she didn't know where to start yet… Her attention became fixated upon the ground beneath the Khodex. Why had it picked this spot? Could it be… She listened and there it was, a soft hum.
She knelt on the ground and began to dig, the soil hanging in the air before she sighed and realized that spoiling the ground around the Khodex was akin to blasphemy, so she put back what she had upheaved and instead took a great leap into the waters surrounding the island. There she delved deep, fixated upon her search as she crushed rock and stone to reach the…
Chamber.
Or perhaps it was more of a massive network of caves. She could hear a faint hum all around, the voice of her Divinium. Yes, of course the Khodex would settle in this place. She wandered deeper, the hum growing ever louder. She began to see pockets of the shining ore, glittering in the dark like newborn stars. The scent of unmolested stone and new growth clung about in the air but there was also another scent, a smell of sweat and heroic ardor. She had sensed it before in the Khodex and knew the name, Galaxor. His additions to the Khodex were ones that Sylia found to be most interesting. At least that was a polite way of saying it. Maybe it would grow on her one day, the idea of heroics but not now. Now she was busy and could not be bothered by him.
So Sylia skirted the areas that swam with his essence and only from a distance did she spot his fledgling creations. Short, diminutive, green skinned and sweaty. Lit by magma and the Divinium, Sylia wondered why Galaxor had chosen such a spot. And then it hit her, what if he knew about Divinium? Or more importantly, what if he intended to use it? The goddess went rigid with thought. Was it her right to hoard such a gift? To not use it to create and craft wondrous things?
She idled more, touching her chin. What was this jealousy she felt in her chest? She let out a low whine and then kept going, past Galaxor’s chamber, past the small creatures and into the true abyss. There she found it, the hum a great song, the light a beacon. Warmth reached out and caressed her features, her skin prickled at the sensation, shimmering in turn. Upon the outcropping of a great ravine, she stood and looked over the edge to see the Divinium. Her eyes widened at the sheer magnificence of it. She reached out, the hum pulling her in, needing her to join.
Then the world shook and rocks began to fall, not a second later an enormous tree root broke through the top of the ravine and jut down into the abyss. The shaking continued for minutes and Sylia watched, captivated by the sudden turn of events, as more roots burst forth and the cave began to grow with rich moss and lichens. Where it touched Divinium, the ore began to hum a different tune, its white color turning a rich green. More foliage burst forth and the sound of dripping water that cascaded off rocks reverberated from the distance. Sylia turned back to the ravine and noticed that some pockets had turned green but not all of them. The different hums intertwined and played off each other. And it was then that Sylia knew she had to protect such a place. Or at least provide a suitable deterrent, for now. Her driving action was to create and by using the Divinium she could do that and in time, she would teach the mortals. Yet, if such a gift was just given away, it would lose all meaning. She knew then, in the spirit of Galaxor, that if any were to strike a pick into this vein, perhaps all veins, they would need to be challenged.
So Sylia dove into the ravine.
She returned to that same spot not long after, having removed three nuggets of pure Divinium and one of the green. The largest Divinium nugget, around the size of a boulder, she placed before her, whilst the others she placed to the side. Next she began to mold it into her desired shape and as she did it became her own alloy, Sylium. Just like the color of her own form, silvered and ever flowing. Two arms, jointed and with nimble fingers. Two lithe legs that ended at sharp points for feet. A feminine torso, curved and ornamented. She marveled at the versatility and textile strength as she kneaded the metal like dough, feeling every miniscule detail as she worked. Finally she addressed the head. She wanted nothing fancy and so, she made it a plain but reflective oval, polished to where she could see herself in its visage. Lastly, taking inspiration from all around her, she placed a floral crown on top of it and then followed suit around the arms and legs. When she was done, a very imposing automaton lay before her.
She clapped her hands together and it stirred, towering over the Goddess by a few feet. “You will be known as a Watcher. This task I give you, protect the Hum. Let none take from it, save the Divine. Do this duty until the end of time or when you can no longer function.”
It bowed to her and then stood deathly still. A moment later, its right hand curled and a cape came from its shoulder to obscure what lay beneath. From its left hand sprouted a lance. Sylia took note of this, cataloging the properties of Sylium for later. She became giddy with excitement and had to stop herself from having it perform tests. It would do its duty, this she knew and she had to go see whatever plant had roots that went so deep and were so large. So Sylia left after grabbing the nuggets.
Sylia witnesses the big bang after being bored for forever. She finds herself next to the Khodex when she comes down from the information and sensory overload and thanks it. Next she delves underground, sees some goblins and then finds a Divinium deposit. The big tree of life bursts its roots down into the depths and changes some of the Divinium into Allianthite. Fearing that such ore would be too easy to get, she creates an automaton named the Watcher, to safeguard the place until the end of time or death do it part.
Wanted to get a post out so this is like Part I of II
Starting 10 -1MP (towards Metal domain) To craft a metal automaton called the Watcher to safeguard the Divinium underneath the big ol tree.
Asheel mucked about drawing on the Khodex, met some bugs, and then drew on the Khodex again to make reincarnation.
“Woooooooooooow did you see that! It was all like, woosh boooom, kablooie and then now there’s all this stuff!” The Maker excitedly summarized what had just happened, namely the birthing of the universe. Had she been capable of being humbled, she might have been by that supreme act of creation, but as it stood she was just fangirling over the start of the, as she’d put it “biggest and bestest cycle ever!”
“Yes yes, well now we have to do something with it” the Maintainer said, rather looking forwards to it, before noting “and there they all go to do just that I see” as the other gods blasted off this way and that to leave their mark
“Yes, but, hmmm, I think there’s someone missing?” The Breaker, who had an eye for such things, noted as she looked around and saw not a hint of the essence of “that lazy looking fellow, the one who arrived here first and then never did anything?”
“Oh yeah, huh, um” The Maker replied, before she almost immediately got distracted by a big tree getting made. Yet in doing so she got another glance at the codex, and upon it saw a rather pointed line that had been written there.
“The Sloth is dead!” the Maker cried out as she read it, prompting the Maintainer to echo her with a mix of questioning and panic “The Sloth is dead?!”
“Correct” The Breaker replied without any of the alarm of her other two thirds, as if she had known this all along.
“Ah, how can you be so calm! I get it now! We can die! Things can kill us!” The Maker freaked out “But I don’t wanna die, I have so much left to live for!”
“And worst thing is, it could be any one of them” the Maintainer aid, glancing paranoidly around
“Now now, Its fine, we wrote in reincarnation after all, so he’ll just be reborn” The Breaker pointed out, only for the maker to reply that “Not for gods! We weren't in the book, just all that life stuff, and bugs”
There was a brief stunned silence, and then they really started freaking out with the Maintainer yelling that “We need to protect ourselves” while the breaker demanded that “no we need to arm ourselves” only for the Maker to overrule them and shout that “we need to be able to escape!” before doing just that.
The Maker just started running, and as she ran she built around her, forming the familiar shape of a great wheel. Feet that had been hitting sand instead hit metal as she formed a divine transport powered by the person running inside of it, which caused her to blaze around the world at ungodly speeds.
It was a machine for someone with everything to lose, and yet also for one who did not know that was the case, one that would get her both into and out of danger
This went well till the Maintainer took over and declared “no no no, this is too much, where did you get the energy to do this from” before she warped the machine, wrapping it around herself and making it larger till she was embraced by it, sealed within a great crystal ball, and sat atop a lovely room sized platform scattered with pillows.
It was a machine for someone for whom there where others she was responsible for, and a way to protect protect both them, and to ensure she herself would still be around to do so herself.
“Ahhh, much better” she declared as she lounged, at which point the Breaker took over again and called them both “Cowards!” before reshaping the machine again, causing it to grow even smaller till it was only slightly larger than her. Then she split the wheel in two and made a central hub out of which slicing blades sprung, chopping and slashing as the machine sped forwards.
It was a machine for someone at the end of their tether who really did have nothing to lose, and so feared not death, because it was coming for her either way.
“Give death unto death!” the old goblin cried to the winds before cackling maniacally as she tore across the sands.
Then the Maker’s machine returned, then the Maintainer's, and back to the Breaker’s as they blazed around the world in cycle after cycle, till they were sure they were safe.
And then a bit more just for fun, during which the Maker actually christened their new ride, naming it quite simply the Super Cycle.
Then all of a sudden their joy ride came to an end as the Breaker slammed on the brakes and skidded to a halt somewhere in the middle of the vast desert that still made up most of the world.
She had stopped because she had found something very strange and yet very familiar. Several things, in fact, as the three in one came face to face with 20 more somewhat like her.
Goblins. Made and then cast across the world with no concern for the fact that most of it was still uninhabitable.
The goddess and the mortals stared at each other for a moment, her with curiosity, they with fear and amazement. And then hope.
They rushed to her side, or rather tried to, but mostly shambled due to how desiccated, begging for salvation from the blistering sun and barren land.
“Why should we? All things end” the Breaker replied dismissively, despite having been the one to stop to see them, and the Maker, in her way, agreed “and then you’ll live again! Somewhere nicer where there’s new life and stuff” but the Maintainer was having none of it
“These lives have just been made, it is not time for them to end just yet!” she declared, and then did something they had not done before, and refused to swap over. Instead she invited the goblins into her sphere-like ride and spirited them away to “this lovely river someone made all the way around the world. Lovely work I must say. There’s plenty of shade, water and things to eat there”
The words she spoke were truth, and soon enough the goblins had been delivered from the desert and to the promised land, where they first rejoiced, and then sang the goddess’ praises, something she found she rather enjoyed. She had also enjoyed their company, having learned a bit about their limited time alive, and of their birth. Of the sparkles in the sky that had fallen around them.
She put that and an observation she’d made while riding around the world, and so put a name on the god responsible for their plight, and recognised that there were so many more goblins out there that might need transporting to safety.
Investing the former could wait, because the first was a rather time sensitive issue. As a result, the Maintainer spent the next few days riding her orb like machine all across the desert, collecting and transporting goblin group after goblin group, and in doing so making a bit of a name for herself as she swelled the riverside populations, as well as their devotion to her.
Asheel finds out sloth died, and that someone wrote that down, suggesting murder. She kinda freaks out about this potential mortality, and ends up doing laps of the world in a new form shifting Monowheel artifact called the Super Cycle.
After she works out some of the stress via this racing around, she does it a bit more for fun, and then runs into some poor goblins out in the desert. Her Maintainer/Mother personality takes pity on them, declaring that their cycle is too new to end now, and proceeds to use her variant of the Super Cycle to transport them to Tuuni ‘s cool new rivers.
Then she goes back into the desert, and finds more and more goblins, and brings as many as she can find back to said river, massively increasing the goblin population along those new rivers. Said goblins also rather like the Maintainer/Mother now, given the whole saving them from death thing.
The Super Cycle: 4 mp cycle enhanced artifact vehicle that cycles between 3 modes to match Ashee’s three forms. 1 mp to make each form, and 1 mp to tie them all to Asheel’s own changes. All 3 are made from a mix of green crystals and a brass colored metal.
The maiden’s ride is an oversized hamster wheel, and 1 bonus mp is used to make it powered by the people running in it, with its speed based on those doing the running. Naturally with a god (or two) at the helm it is supremely speedy, but heroes and mortals can help as well, and the wheel ensures they do not get whipped away by the pace the fastest runner sets.
The Mother’s ride is a massive enclosed crystalline sphere that can roll in any direction, with the comfortable riding section, which has space for many people, safely tucked away inside of it. 1 bonus mp is used to make this form extra durable.
The Crone’s ride is made of two half spheres attached to a central hub, with the riding section on the back (though raised enough for the rider to be able to see over the wheels). It is the smallest of the forms, functionally only usable with a single rider. 1 bonus mp is used to add a variety of extra stabby blades to the ride, and another to make it incredibly nimble.
(Yes the first and final forms are just a skaven doom wheel and a doom flayer respectively, and the middle a big version of one of those jurassic park bubble cars)
4mp towards wheels
4mp to gain the dominion of wheels: wheels are a means of conveyance, used to facilitate ease of transportation. This gives her dominion over all wheels, wheel-like objects, and things with wheels. On top of carts, cars, and such, this can also include water wheels, grind stones, paddle wheels, cogwheels, pillbugs and other rolling creatures, pizza cutters, saw blades, fly wheels etc. etc. allowing for a fair bit of niche diversity.
While the two gods were floating along the void Lareus wondered if they were the only gods that were created. While floating he noticed some strange-looking smoke that seemed to draw closer toward them, his body was flung by the sudden shockwave that seemed to come out of nowhere. He was utterly surprised by the sudden force that seemed to hit the other two gods. Quickly he recovered looking over at Yumash. “Do you know…..what that was?" He asked wondering what they knew.
Lareus felt a sudden rush of dreams that were and were to happen. All of them are more fascinating than the last. He could not place it but it was a feeling of immense pleasure. Being surprised that the two gods were not surrounded by an endless void. He took a moment to look at his surroundings, enjoying the new sight. It was admittedly more beautiful than he imagined. He wondered if this was because he had influenced dreams into the Khodex. “So many….dreams…to….explore…” He whispered before turning towards Yumash. “Wonderful…isn’t it? I can see…so many dreams… perhaps now…would be the right time…. to create the realm…of dreams?”
Yumash too was looking at their surroundings, their attention being pulled by every little thing. Before they suddenly jolted to look at Lareus. “No Clue What That Was. Something Powerful That's For Sure.” They took another look around, spinning around on the spot. “But That's Something To Deal With Later! You Said You’re Seeing Dreams? Well Sounds Like As Good A Time As Ever To Make Your Dream Realm Then! How Do We Start?”
Lareus thought for a moment about how he would be able to create the dream realm. The shockwave seemed to give him also a feeling of power. “I can…think of…a few ways.” And with that, he held his staff high up in the air. The surrounding area seemed to change and shift in what looked like a thick cloud. The place around them kept shifting and changing and it was hard hard to tell what was going on. Lareus uses his newfound powers to create the realm where dreamers would go. In front of them would be where he would reside. It was a castle surrounded by a dense forest. He did not know where he saw the design of this building, but he assumed he had seen it in a mortal’s dream. “This…is where i….will reside…” He said proudly looking at his creation.
The god of Chaos gave a whistle while peering at the dreamer’s castle. “Quite The Home, Fitting Honestly.” They looked around at the dense forest, the crackle of energy softly coming from their flame-like head. “You Have A Nice View Too. Nice To Stare Off Into. Hope Those Dreamers Don’t Get Too Lost. Or Maybe Hope They Do. Either Way, It Seems Like Fun.”
“Thank you…” Now thinking he would need subjects for his kingdom. Now waving his staff as the floor started to bubble and shake. Large bubbles start to form on the ground. The bubbles slowly float above the ground as a ball of flesh forms inside of it. The fleshy ball soon grows larger and larger soon popping the bubbles. The creature was a large-looking creature with multiple eyes and arms. The creatures soon stood upright and looked at Lareus with reverence. “These….will be my servants….obeying my every command. I will…name them…the Ya-gos. Is there…anything you would…like to add?” He said turning his head to look over at Yumash.
“Hmmm.” Yumash turned once more to the surrounding environment. “I Think It Just Needs A Bit More Of Fun.” They reached into their form, into the boundless jittering Chaotic energy that made them up. Pulling out one of the many prismatic dots that was within them. They flicked it away, launching it into the dreamscape. As it landed, it spread out in tendrils of pure chaos, seeping into the landscape and causing it to change and warp for a brief moment, before finally settling. “There We Go!” They exclaimed, clapping their hands. “That Should Ensure These Dreams And This Land Are A Bit More Chaotic. That Will Be Far More Fun!”
“Now…. the mortal's dreams will….be quite interesting….” Lareus spoke with what sounded like a distorted laugh. He was satisfied that the two gods were able to create something quite wonderful in his eyes. “Good..job…Yumash…god of chaos…We…have created something…quite beautiful…I wonder if the other gods…would be able to see this…I am sure they will when they close their eyes.” The god turned towards the chaotic god bowing in their direction as a sign of thanks.
Yumash gave a haphazard bow in return, not wanting to look rude. “Always A Pleasure To Help Out! I’m Sure The Others Will Enjoy It Just As Much.” They clapped their hands once more, before turning their attention beyond the dreamscape. “Alas. I Must Be Off. The Winds Of Change Are Ever Moving! And I Still Need My Pie! See You On The Flip Side!” With a wave, they were off. Transforming into a bolt of pure chaos that shot off from the dreamscape. Heading back into the material plane and towards whatever chaos was to be made.
Lareus waved the chaotic figure goodbye and floated towards his castle. Ordering his minions to maintain the dreamlands and to keep watch on any lucid dreamers. Those lucid dreamers will be brought by his minions to meet Lareus. Sitting on his wooden throne wondering what a pie would taste like. He wanted to meet with the other gods, so he decided to contact them by sending one of his minions. The fleshy creatures were sent through a portal to greet the other gods. The Ya-Gos spoke in a raspy and deep-sounding voice, bowing their head in a respectful manner. "Ggggreeetttings my master Lareus sends an invitation to come visit him in your dreams." The creature spoke studying the gods.
Lareus creates the dream world with Yumash. Lareus creates some minions to help him with work in the dreamland. Yumash then adds a bit of chaos to the dreamworlds and dreams in general. Yumash leaves for some pie while Lareus observes the mortal’s dreams. Larues sends his minions to greet the other gods.
-6MP: Lareus creating the dreamworld -1MP: Lareus creating his minions the Ya-gos. -2MP: Yumash adds a bit of chaos to the dreams.
In the wake of the Khodex’s momentous explosion, and subsequent pulling of the gods to Galbar, a blackened fog had descended. It grew angry once more, just as the sandstorms that it resided in buffeted through, worsening the haze. Her form would coalesce once more within those infernal sandstorms, her mouth spilling blood as clawed at the ground before her form towered over the deserts. She was alone for the time being, the roaring of the sand in her ears and her sight clouded by the infinite grains that tried to penetrate her form. Misri growled, wanting nothing more than to charge at the Khodex and rip her strength back - yet she felt more powerful than ever.
In the back of her mind, a crude and terrible idea would form. Misri would lay claim to the Khodex’s boundless power and take it for her own, the scroll would grant her strength untold and all of reality would suffer her terrible rule. This idea solidified as she raised her claws and slashed through the air, carving a path through the sandstorm unimpeded. An unnatural life filled the air as her body descended into fog once more and sped further into the desert - eager to use this newfound energy to dominate and control the world. Had mortals walked the planet, her form would have crushed their putrid bodies before they even comprehended what had happened.
Yet, there were no mortals. No one to savage but other gods, but she knew not how powerful they were, only knowing that they were not as strong as she.
Misri came to a halt, her form reknitting itself in an instant as her half-body lowered itself to the ground as a crouching tiger preparing to ambush its prey. However, there was no leap or pounce onto whatever would count as her prey. Instead, there was but merely the rumblings of the desert and the low hum of her labored breathing. There was stillness - peace.
Suddenly, a clawed hand stabbed into the sand on either side of Misri and grasped the very veins of Galbar. With a savage roar, the Goddess of Violence ripped the veins from the planet and blood shot from the ground and into the atmosphere. Dual towering geysers of blood extended into the air, traversing so high that as it came down it began to rain across the world. Only the northwest portion of the planet was truly safe from the devastating rainstorms, but the closer towards the geysers the more it became of a torrential downpour of ichor. Worse yet, it became a drowning tidal wave near the source.
The substance ushered forth, creating an ocean of lifeblood that extended across the south most portion of Galbar. Desert animals and plants were swept away, unable to escape the red wave that approached them. At its northernmost extent, it would come to a halt not even a quarter of the way towards the Khodex. Even still, the rain stained the planet red - and with it a sign of death as a roar sounded ever so distantly.
Triumphant, Misri roiled and coated her form in the great ichor ocean that she had created from the very blood of Galbar. Her claws had struck a mighty blow to the accursed planet and she would nightly roar to proclaim her creation - savage and unrelenting. She splashed in the ocean sending further torrents of blood to harass the newly formed beaches now seeing tides of blood roll across them. Only after this victory did she come to a stop again, gazing upon the endless horizon of red that she had created and looking far beyond. It would not be enough, Misri needed ever more power if she were to claim the accursed scroll for herself.
The goddess of violence looked down upon the blood that she had wrought to the surface, a rare moment of contemplation coming across her mind. Misri dipped her claws within the blood, coating the ever shifting wisps that made her form. Violently, she brought her claws deep within her chest and ripped open hole - a pain roar sounded before she buried herself in the blood ocean, sinking to the twin geysers that made its source. The blood forced its way into her wound but it did not drown her, no, it became a part of her.
Blood begets blood.
Misri became one with the substance in those depths, and when she arose coated in the ichor of Galbar itself, she would finally speak her first word.
“BLOOD!”
At the southern tip of the planet, Misri rips open a wound in Galbar that creates a temporary planet-wide blood rain that gets worse the further south one goes. Additionally, this creates the Cruel Ocean, a blood ocean that covers the southern pole.
Misri also takes a dip and becomes one with Blood.
10 MP
-4 to Create temporary blood rain and the Cruel Ocean -4 to claim the Blood Domain
Caught in the fires of the birth of the universe, borne along the uncontrollable winds of a million million futures, Anat'aa hurtled towards the surface of the planet. As she fell towards the once spat out stone, she laughed and twisted through the currents of the new reality. As she twisted she allowed her form to discorporate, becoming as streaks of fire that lanced through the skies of the world, as if several stars had already grown tired of their place in the sky. Far did they fall, so far that the speed at which they fell seemed to not matter as they seemed to hang in the sky like claw marks. Only a deep roar told of the speed at which they traveled.
This roar was soon drowned out by the resounding cacophony of the fiery lances meeting the ground. Like a summer storm Anat'aa landed upon Galbar, sudden and intense. But unlike a summer storm this rain tore apart the sand and rock. Carving deep gouges were torn into the desert's surface, each one radiating with the intense heat if the impacts. Thankfully for the desert the rain was short lived, ending minutes after it began. This reprieve, however, was very short lived.
With a blinding flash Anat'aa literally pulled herself together. Each part of her ripping the gouges longer as they all spiraled to a center crater. A final resounding boom echoed out, flowed swiftly but a large fox dripping in flame hops out of the crater. Sitting on the lip of the ripped earth, Anat'aa looked out upon the still glowing earth. She held but a moment to bask in its fiery heat before racing upwards to hang above the scars and craters. Looking down the fox tilted its head as she traced the swirling lines she had burned through the desert floor. As she looked upon her work the sand that had been burning the whole time began to cool. As it did it began to glimmer in the light of the remaining fires.
Anat'aa watched as a great spiral of glass formed from her landing. But while she undeniably found beauty in it, she found herself unsatisfied with it as it was. She descended to the dark glossy surface, her reflection being cast and reflected off of a thousand surfaces. Leaning down she touched the black glass with her nose and spoke to it softly "Remain not as you are. Burn, burn and change. And with your change, burn and change the world."
As she whispered to the glass in the fissures a fire shone deep within the glass. A fire that grew brighter and brighter by the whispered command. Soon the glass within the fissures began to glow with a light all their own. The fire within them burned hotter still and a deep crack split the middle of the central crater. Soon the hissing gargle of magma bubbled out of the crack and began to spill down the spiraling glass fissures. Still standing at the center of the now filling pool Anat'aa watched with newfound satisfaction. Around her a platform of black glass had formed, as the fire within the stone dared not approach the fox.
Allowing herself a vulpine smile at her progress, the fox walked forward towards the lip of the platform. As her first foot fell from the platform it met with glass once more, as did the second, and so on until she had once more reached the craters edge. Looking out over the flowing magma channels, which were already spilling out into various magma fields. The goddess of fire was happy with the beauty that she saw. She descended from the crater, bounding from one lava flow to the next. As she did more glassed platforms appeared behind her.
Turning to her creation when she reached the end of the largest of lava flows she issued one more request to it,
'There will be those born of this world, they will come to you. They will try to cross you. You will test them, test their cunning, test their will." Her vulpine smile growing broader as she spoke, Anat'aa finished "Don't make it easy"
A deep rumble answered her as the magma streams intensified, soon seemingly random waves of molten rock began to wash over the glass platforms Anat'aa had left in her wake.
Laughing to herself, Anat'aa bounded once more away into the world. She knew others had landed elsewhere, and she was determined to find them. She wanted dance with them, and share in this newfound freedom of creation. For as she was sure they had all been made to witness, infinity was before them.
No sense in letting it slip by.
Anat'aa willingly crash lands on Galbar as a meteor storm made of fire. After reforming she finds she her crash has made a spiral of glass made from the melted sands of her landing. Wanting to improve upon this she creates Galbar's first volcano within the spiral and floods its arms with magma to create the magma fields for the volcano. Thus finalizing her first holy place, The Glass Spiral. As she leaves to find other gods she issues it a blessing, the will to act as her trial for the mortals to come.
-1 for creation of holy place (modified to +2 for domain, bonus +1 spent on blessing for holy place)
Back on the surface, once again the world had changed. A giant tree had sprouted over the Khodex and its canopy felt like a never moving cloud. Animals strode about, flowers bloomed, the scents of nectar and life abounded in the air. Upon closer inspection of the Khodex, Sylia found that a great hall now resided around it and the Khodex itself was protected with vines. It looked as if each empty alcove were to be a spot for a God, twenty some in all. She wanted to kick herself for not having thought of it before she dove underground and now… She focused on the tree, Allianthé’s creation. The Life Goddess would get all the credit.
Well, credit where credit was due, Sylia supposed. Even better, she held out the nugget of Allianthite. What would a goddess of life fancy? She pondered for a time before an idea trickled into her mind and she went to work on the nugget of green. It became like liquid in her hands and she swirled her fingers, watching as the metal shimmered and reacted. She let her intent remain neutral, not wishing to change the nature of the Allianthite. She found this process most tedious as her mind buzzed with possibilities, not all of which were suitable. Eventually she settled upon a simple, yet elegant gift for one who had made such a place.
Sylia curved her fingers and began to shape the metal. Slowly the hum about it began to fade away, no longer intertwining with the pure Divinium until it was overpowered entirely. This did not bother her, for it was but a material to be used and in doing so, became far more useful. When she had gotten the shape into her liking she used her fingers to begin forming delicate petals. What would have taken a mortal a lifetime, she managed to complete in short order.
An emerald rose for the Goddess of the great tree, to remind her even the inorganic could be used for Life. She placed the rose beside the Khodex and in doing so, looked over the cocoon again.
"This form does not suit you." She said to it and another idea formed.
She took her second Divinium nugget and looked at it within her palm. It was the size of a small rock, humming with warmth. she returned the Hum and began to clear her mind. She also used her free hand to touch the Khodex. And it was then she knew what she wanted to make. How difficult could it be? So she became very still and closed her eyes and began to focus her intent upon the nugget. She did not will it to change. She did not want it to change. She wanted it to simply transform. It must be pure. Unalloyed. Perfect. It was for the Khodex. She felt a tingling in her hand that held the nugget. Something was happening. Her power coiled around the ore, pouring into it. Not for her but for the Khodex.
For the Khodex!
Light flared and then all grew quiet as the hum faded away. She opened her eyes and found that a crown of Divinium lay in her hands. Pure like starlight and shining with an ethereal glow. Weaves of Divinium interlaced, twining around to form the circular shape it had taken. The crown's simplicity was its beauty and Sylia beamed with satisfaction. She felt as if she had a new understanding of how metals worked. What made them. How they could be shaped. How they could transform.
She dipped her head before the Khodex and offered the crown to it. It, of course, did not respond and Sylia rose, placing the crown above the Khodex where it hovered like a halo of purest white.
"For whatever you are to become." Sylia mused, grabbing the Emerald Rose and walking over to an alcove. There she placed the last Divinium nugget and crafted into Sylium a lifelike replica of herself, one-hand holding a hammer and the other outstretched. A hand holding a planet was embossed into the background behind the statue's head. She looked rather indifferent, well the statue, that was. Within the outstretched hand she placed the Emerald Rose and stepped back. She admired her work for a few seconds and nodded.
Then Sylia vanished.
Sylia returns to the Khodex and finds a tree. Admonished that she didn't think of creating a site around it she gives credit to Alli and leaves her a gift, the Khodex a crown, claims the metal Domain, and makes a statue of herself in an alcove before departing.
Part 2 of yesterday's post and takes place shortly after the Tree is created when no one is around.
Starting 9 MP
-1MP (Towards Metal Domain 2/4) - To create an artifact of Allianthite, the Emerald Rose. A deeply rich green replica of a rose. Imbued with the power of Life and the unique properties of Metal, it is capable of growing common metals. Simply touch the stem to an ore and after some time passes, 'veins' of said ore will have sprouted.
-2MP (Towards Metal Domain 4/4) - To create an artifact of pure Divinium, the Divinium Crown. This interweaving and intertwining crown glows a soft white. Those that wear this crown can control metals around them telekinetically. It also can locate Divinium veins.
Galaxor left to make the Underground. Galaxor left to be heroic. Galaxor…is able to do anything. Galax…no, this is not a story about me. This is a story of my first creation, the Goblins. The specks of divine energy fell all around the world of Galbar, making hundreds of thousands of goblins appear everywhere which meant that some…wouldn’t survive. This is the story of one such speck and its lone survivor. As the speck landed on Galbar, twenty goblins materialised in the unforgiving heart of the desert on Galbar. These small, newly formed beings found themselves in a world of relentless sandstorms, with the parched and harsh landscape stretching in all directions. Among this diverse group of goblins, one stood out as the largest, a towering figure at 2 metres in height. His name was Jaxx, and his deep, black skin contrasted starkly with the sun-bleached sands. Jaxx's commanding presence made him a natural leader, even in this hostile environment. The desert offered no reprieve. The ceaseless sandstorms stripped moisture from their bodies and obscured the sky. With limited resources and no shelter, the smaller Goblins struggled to survive. As the days passed, one by one, they succumbed to the relentless conditions, their frail bodies unable to withstand the harshness of the desert. Only Jaxx, the lone survivor and the largest of them all, seemed to fare better. He ate his own kind to avoid starvation, he drank their blood and anything else he could find. He did whatever he had to in order to survive. Unfortunately for Jaxx, as he was about to reach more hospitable lands, he almost ran out of food and water supplies. He barely had one piece of meat left and some blood. That is, until he saw something shining in the distance, something very shiny.
It had been born in an endless dune, nothing but the sandstorm and the dim light of the sun for company. There was no stimuli to be found but the movements of the wind and the formation and collapse of the dunes. At night, the sky was shrouded in the endless sand, and by day it studied the movements of the wind. It had gotten quite good at it; it could not imagine the concept of a name, but it could reliably guess the direction the wind would turn.
Nonetheless, while it survived, it did not thrive. In silence it trudged the endless, lifeless sands, near starvation as it grasped at whatever it could find, at multiple points reduced to sucking the smallest morsels of meaning from grains of sand. It stood at an imposing twelve feet tall, and at first noticed not the creature that had found it. Its body reflected the sun in a breathtaking rainbow kaleidoscope, lighting up the sands in colours that perhaps were the first the goblin had ever seen. Jaxx was…amazed. He didn’t have the words to express what colours he saw but he knew that it was shiny and intriguing but Jaxx’s survival instinct took over his curiosity. Clutching the bone he took from a goblin, he approached slowly. Bone “weapon” not raised high above his head but near his body, he didn’t want to show that he’s a threat but still have enough time to club the thing if it proves dangerous.
“A! A! A! OOOO!” said Jaxx, not having the words to say what he meant but he smiled gently, as gentle as the face of a goblin allowed. The crystal being jerked their head around to bring all their glowing eyes to bear. Here, there was something new, and that meant something to ponder for sustenance. It harmonised, suddenly, each syllable from another portion of its body, “Wow,” and then it devolved into a similar gibberish. It sounded otherworldly, like an ethereal choir whose words could not be understood.
The kaleidoscope flitted rapidly as instinct struggled to respond to such a diminutive and odd-looking creature as a goblin, and it began to approach slowly, still harmonising.
Looking a bit confused at the sound the creature made, Jaxx was about to point his weapon at it before thinking better of it. The creature looked small at first but as it approached…Jaxx realised how big it actually was. Bigger than anything he saw. He was bigger than the rest of the goblins but this was bigger than the biggest goblin.
He threw the piece of meat he held in his hand towards the creature and nodded at it. Either it would’ve been dangerous and ate the meat then tried to attack him to eat him, at which Jaxx would defend himself or he’d run away, hoping his legs would be fast enough to carry him far from this shiny creature. The creature startled a moment, and then curiosity took over. It reached out with one crystal hand and prodded the meat. It picked it up and brought it close, looking it over. It studied how the meat flexed, how it desiccated in the sand.
And then it dropped the meat, and leaned down to take a closer look at the goblin, its first ever sight of such a thing. It harmonised again, mimicking the goblin’s original sounds in a lilting sing-song as it reached out, intent on poking the thing and seeing if it resembled the meat.
The goblin was…perplexed. He didn’t understand this creature. It didn’t want to eat. Meat. There’s nothing else to eat, why would it refuse meat? At that moment, the creature made the same sounds, albeit a bit like music, to him. He lifted his bone “weapon” and pointed it at the crystal creature and said, in the most “do not approach more, I don’t want to hurt you” tone:
“Ooo! OO!” while with the other hand, Jaxx made a pushing sign by having an open palm and approaching it to his body and then away from it. The strider suddenly straightened out, taking a defensive posture, spikes on the back of their arms presented as they backed away. The kaleidoscope of colours first darkened, and then, to the goblin, violently brightened; an instinctive reaction, all the reflected light pointed towards Jaxx.
Jaxx’s eyes burned from the sudden light and he put his hand up to cover them while also moving to the side, trying to avoid the creature’s light “attack”.
“A! A! A!” he shouted as ran around trying to circle the creature and then it clicked in his mind. The creature mimicked his sounds. Friendly. No danger.
He then stopped and did something that made his self-preservation instinct shout at him. Jaxx dropped his bone “weapon” and approached the creature slowly, one hand covering half covering his eyes while the other hand was open and pointed towards the creature. Though he could not see it, the creature remained ready to strike, warily watching as the goblin approached. It did not move away, but it remained dead silent and tense.
When Jaxx made contact, it was nothing like him. It was hard and unyielding, like solid rock; likely the first the goblin had ever felt of such material. The strider still stood there, silent and tense as it waited to see what the goblin would do.
Jaxx was, once more, very amazed at the material the creature was made of. Whatever it was, it felt durable and strong. Stronger than the bones of his people, stronger than the rocks and definitely stronger than his meat. It was amazing. Unknowingly, Jaxx was in tears, tears of joy of finding something so…perfect. He didn’t understand the feeling but he knew he met a creature truly wonderful.
“Ooo, Jaaaxxx!” he shouted while pointing at himself with a hand, while the other one was gently petting the creature. The creature, slowly and hesitantly, stretched one of its arms out and responded, “Jaaxxx,” in its songlike voice. It then repeated it several times for good measure. Then, it pointed the arm back at itself, and tilted its head as it stood there, towering over the goblin.
Jaxx nodded at the creature with a big smile on his face and while pointing at it, said “Jaxxx”, letting the x’s longer than when he said his name. He petted the creature gently on its crystalline body and motioned it to smell him. He didn’t know what the creature was or if it couldn’t even smell but that’s how it was in his tribe, they smell each other, smell nice, friend if not…not friend. Not that they have found any friends since they were created.
The strider’s head suddenly snapped away, to some distant point. The winds were changing; it had studied the sandstorm enough to recognize when it was due to whip up. It further recognized the frailty of the meat the goblin was made of, and how sand at such speed could strip it. There were seconds left to spare before the front came. The strider acted, and it acted quickly.
It grabbed the goblin with both of its manipulator hands, and held him in place as it wrapped its tail around the diminutive creature. Just as it did so, the front came and any noise was overwhelmed by the whipping of sand as the sun darkened. As the light left, so too did the reflection, and it was replaced by the dim glow of fibre optic veins. The light shimmered through the body, a criss-cross of veins like a dense symphony scattered across the goblin’s sight.
Jaxx was initially defensive when he got grabbed before realising what was happening. A sandstorm. Bigger than the one he encountered before. Stronger. Jaxxx was saving his life and not attacking him. Jaxx stopped trying to fight Jaxxx and let himself be covered up by Jaxxx…that is until the sandstorm was upon them. The wind and the sand slowly started to cut into his skin even as he was mostly covered up by Jaxxx and he let out a shout of pain. His vision started to dim and he felt his lifeforce being drained away but before he could close his eyes…he appeared somewhere else and saw goblins. Many, many goblins and someone else. Just a glimpse of a divine being.
Galaxor starts telling a story about himself before realising it ain’t about him. Anyways, one of Galaxor’s divine sparks falls in an uninhabitable desert and the group of goblins dies. All but one 2 metre tall goblin with gray skin called “Jaxx”. He ends up eating and drinking his tribe in order to survive. As he was just about to get out of the desert, he meets a crystal creature and while initially gets flashbanged by it, they befriend one another and he calls it Jaxxx.
A very strong sandstorm appears out of nowhere and Jaxx dies or would’ve if not for Asheel’s cycle saving him right before falling unconscious.
In the expansive blackness of the Astral Realm, the deity floated gracefully. The ebon curtain of Ir-Vaeri’s domain, which usually seemed like a boundless night sky, was now punctuated with streaks of luminous Astralis Lumen. One of his additions to the Khodex of Creation, Lumen moved in harmonious waves, painting the vast expanse with a soft, stary luminescent glow. Everywhere he looked, the deity could sense the undulating, rhythmic ebb and flow of Lumen—vibrant and ethereal, it was a living testament to the connection it held to both himself and the realm.
With a thought, the deity vanished, only to reappear moments later at another location within the Astral Realm. His movements were fluid, a series of rapid blinks through the vastness. One moment he would be in deep space, with nothing in his immediate surroundings, then the next he would be somewhere deep underground—the layer upon layer of rock making up the majority of the unknown planetoid posed no inherent difficulty to his immaterial form. At each stop, he would mark locations with a special, glowing sigil—a tracking mark, shimmering with divine energy. These locations were places of heightened Lumen concentration, areas where the astral energy was most potent. Taking note of these locations could prove to be useful in the long run.
As he moved, a particular location caught his attention, making him pause. Before him stood one of Mae-Alari's unique creations: a Vein of the Cosmos. This Vein had somehow pierced through the protective barrier separating the two realms, creating a true spectacle to behold. Its rich prismatic hue throbbed, the arcane energies cascading outwards, reaching into the Astral Realm, with tendrils of Lumen attempting to breach into the Material.
What intrigued him more, however, was the surrounding area. The deity's astute eyes observed an unusual crystalline ore structure having taken shape around the Vein. He had noticed a different but similar phenomenon elsewhere as well, but never to this extent. Much like dewdrops forming on the tip of a leaf during the cool early morning hours, Lumen, when amassed in significant quantities, naturally began to converge and condense. This transformation, evidently, was particularly strong—and so much more intricate—near the Veins.
Lumen, after having normally condensed into liquid form, intertwined, stitching together glowing patterns that danced with light and energy. Then a shift had seemingly taken place—from a liquid-like state to a solid. Additionally, this solid didn't just sprout as isolated, sporadic crystalline structures. Instead, it bore a striking resemblance to mineral "vines." These vines, resembling root structures, traversed outwards from the Vein, growing and branching organically. As they spread, they integrated seamlessly into the fabric of the Astral Realm, the natural currents of Lumen dictating their growth direction and patterns.
As the deity’s eyes followed one of the branches, he noted special nodes on the vine—places where the concentration of Lumen peaked. These nodes, much larger than their surrounding structures, stored vast quantities of Lumen, acting as reservoirs of this mystical energy. The entirety of the vine was sturdy, withstanding the constant fluctuations of the Lumen currents. Nevertheless, when he approached, touching one of them in the process, the node shattered into pieces, scattering and merging back into the astral currents. It seemed that, as resilient as they were, they weren't immune to strong disturbances, whether from the natural disruptions of the realm or deliberate interventions by powerful entities.
The deity, lost in contemplation, realized that these structures held potential far beyond what met the eye. To tap into one of these vines was to tap into raw power, and to meditate near a node was to embark on profound spiritual journeys. As the Vein of the Cosmos pulsed before him, he could do nothing but guess as to how many more of Mae-Alari’s veins would someday find their way into the Astral Realm—poking holes where they didn’t belong—interacting with Lumen and creating more crystalline structures like the one in front of him.
He knew how power could both help as well as corrupt, mortals and deities alike, and was under no illusions that this material, should it fall in the wrong hands, had the potential to break the careful balance between the Material and Astral Realms. But then, he was reminded of his encounter with one of the first ever astral consciousnesses; allowing the mycelium to remain as it had, had proved to be quite a fruitful decision on his part.
“I should not be hasty, they might prove to be use—”
As he made to fix the hole in the barrier around the Vein, he noticed the structure reacting to his divine essence; absorbing the foreign energy at a rapid pace, the crystal vine very quickly filled in the empty space on its own, forming a faux bush that effectively plugged the hole shut.
“Well, I’ll be damned.”
In the Astral Realm, Ull'yang observes the flowing Astralis Lumen, the inherent energy of the realm, and as he navigates through various locations, he marks areas with high Lumen concentration. Upon encountering a Vein of the Cosmos crafted by Mae-Alari, he's drawn to surrounding crystalline structures that resemble mineral "vines", born from Lumen's unique condensation process. While these structures hold potential, touching one reveals its delicate nature, disintegrating under his touch. As he contemplates their significance and remembers past decisions, Ull'yang hesitates in action; however, when he tries to mend a barrier breach, the crystalline structure unexpectedly self-heals, leaving him in awe.
None spent this post—9 remaining.
PS. The 1 MP used in the creation of The Capped Ones counts towards obtaining the Mind Domain. 1/8 MP currently spent towards this goal.
In characteristic fashion, the bull had maintained his tantrum at a surprisingly stable level. His path of destruction had not ended underground, nor on the surface. Even before the Big Bang, he had been on the surface of the planet that was to become Galbar, performing a new pastime. With his horns, he had dug up channels in the dead soil. When he had reached a sufficient distance and taken a small breather, he would turn and do the same thing in the opposite direction. All the while, he muttered a promise under his breath.
“Kill, kill, kill, kill, kill, kill…”
But as time went on, his mouth got tired and the consonants changed.
“... Gill, gill, gill, gill, gill, gill…”
Eventually, the vowels slipped, too.
“... Gull, gull, gull, guw… Guww…”
By now, he had plowed several kilometres of field. He let out a long, exhausted groan and turned to look at his work. The gray soil had become a little grayer, mostly resulting from shadows cast from the many new dirt heeps all around. He nodded in satisfaction and sat down to rest.
Then, an overwhelming, chaotic flash drowned the entire planet in colour and light. In seconds, his work was eradicated and then overgrown with grasses, ferns and forests. Animals began to awake and divine power flickered and crackled all over the horizon - a giant tree popped out of the ground, crystals rained from the sky, and cackling laughter came from the woods from tiny green menaces. The bull blinked and looked out over his field; in a second, it had become completely overgrown. It saw there agape for gods know how long; long enough to see an eternal sunbeam form over the massive tree on the horizon. The bull seethed and once again dug its horns into the regrown soil. As he snarled his way forward, pushing over stock and stone, tree and trunk, goblin and fowl, it spat out a new word, his anger twisting his tongue until consonants no longer fit the intent:
“TILL, TILL, TILL, TILL, TILL!”
And till, he did. He tilled so efficiently that by the end of the day, he had prepared hundreds of acres of soil for this new, untested phenomenon that he had yet to understand that he was supposed to teach people. Taking a small break, he pondered how he best could get revenge on the universe for never respecting him. It was then that a small, blackish red hexaped strolled past him with a bit of grey fuzz in its mouth. The bull eyed the creature curiously, for it had never seen its like. The creature, on the other hand, paid him no mind.
“You. What are you?” the bull demanded.
“Am ant,” replied the ant.
“Ant? What is ‘ant’?”
“Ant am ant,” answered the ant.
The bull furrowed his bushy brows, dry dirt breaking off his muddy forehead. “Are you like that smug-faced asshole who sucker-punched me in the jaw and deserves a shallow grave covered in cow dung?”
The ant stopped to ponder this. “No.” It moves on. The bull eyed it intently. The ant still paid him no mind.
“What’re you doing?” asked the bull.
“Collect and bring food for Queen,” replied the ant.
“What’s a Queen?”
“Queen am Queen.” The ant had the patience of a saint. “Am mom, too.”
“You are?”
“No, Queen am.”
The bull was now genuinely interested. The ant, meanwhile, was soon joined by other ants strolling by with fuzz in their mouth. The bull blinked. “There are more of you now!”
“Yes,” replied the ant. The others ignored him. Soon, the ants had formed a trail going back, presumably to their hive. The bull inspected the fuzz in their mandibles a bit closer. It looked fungal. He scratched his beard.
"What you've got there?"
"Mushroom," replied the ant. The bull raised a brow.
"So you eat mushrooms?"
"Yes. They grow all over forest. Lots, lots, lots." It had stopped to converse with the bull, stalling the whole trail behind it. The bull hummed in amusement.
"So you prey upon it?"
"Yes. It grows everywhere, so can prey. Not like insect; insect die if preyed; mushroom endless."
The bull nodded. "Thank you for telling me. Say, where can I find these mushrooms? It sounds like you have a lot to spare, and I am quite hungry."
The ant pointed an antenna back the way it had come, which by now was pretty much a mapped out route thanks to all the ants waiting to move on. The bull nodded its thanks and followed the ant trail into the forest. After a walk that took hours for an ant, but about five minutes for the bull, he had arrived at a small hole under a tree. Ants walked into the hole emptimouthed and came out with bits and pieces of mycelium in their mandibles. The bull pursed his lips and stuck his hand into the hole. Feeling around gently, he eventually struck a vein of mycelium. Whispering, he asked, "Anyone there?"
The response came like morse code. A series of electrical signals skipped through the mycelium and into the bull's finger, then divine power deciphered them as easily as speech. "Who's there?" a million voices asked inquisitively.
"A friend," replied the bull. "I am here about the ant situation. Heard they were enjoying a bountiful harvest of mushrooms, so I came to see what the fuzz was about."
The mycelium's voices hummed. "Ant situation? Oh! You mean my porters."
The bull raised an eyebrow. "Your porters?"
"Oh yes. They bring food in heaps. All I have to do is sit here and snatch it up from the ground. Sure, every now and then they get a bit rowdy and bite a part or two of me, but honestly, I'm getting the better deal."
"You don't say…" mumbled the bull. "What do you think of the ants?"
"Bunch'a chumps if you ask me. It all started when a few just came in here and died. They were delicious! Then some came in and dumped a bunch of detritus. That was delicious too! I don't get it, how can they waste so much good food? Oh, oh, and get this: they've even gotten rid of all my parasites! I've actually never been better! I wish I could pinch myself, for I've been living a dream."
The bull hummed and looked over at one of the ants coming out of the cave with fungus in its mouth. "You there, ant. What do you think of the mushroom?"
"Big chump. Just sit there, get eat. Grow out of junk, become food. Even has other food grow on top. Is genius for us. Stupid mushroom." It clicked its mandibles in a tiny laugh. The bulk smirked. "Yeah. Funny how that works, isn't it?" He stood up and walked back to his field. Finally, after his tormenting, yet short existence in the Galbarverse, he understood his purpose. He would teach everyone the dance he had danced with the nebula in his previous world: the dance of domestication.
Behind him, plants were beginning to settle in his tilled fields. To keep them clean until he knew how to make proper use of them, he took a few of the ants and gave them shovel-like mandibles. He then grew them to the size of wolves and set them to till his field, as well as to graze on unwanted vegetation. Any and all waste was to be mulched and placed back on the fields to be broken down by detritus feeders, the funny mushroom among them.
Then, the bull sat down to admire his field and its toiling workers. At one point, the sky cracked open with blood and his fields filled with insects and parasites that immediately swarmed to suck it up. The aftermath of the rain proved fantastic for the fertility of the soil. There also showed up some emissary talking about dreams and whatnot. The bull waved him away and told him to come back later. This… Tilling thing - and the domestication - was the start of something big, he knew it, so now all he needed were students to learn the dance.
Hummus spent the rest of pre-Bang time tilling an enormous area of land using his horns in pure rage. Then the Bang happened and the entire mass he had tilled is immediately swallowed by thick overgrowth. Now quadruple angry, he tills it all away again.
When he's done tilling, he meets an ant who had some fungus in its mouth. It explains that it got it from the forest, so the bull goes to check it out. When it asks the mushroom how it feels about the ants, the mushroom is surprisingly completely convinced that the ants are slaving away on its behalf, bringing it food and warding off parasites. When Hummus asks the ants, they're convinced that they completely own the fungus and that they get free food from leaving garbage around that the mushroom for some reason seems to eat. This gives Hummus the idea of domestication and sets him off on the path to teach people the dance of mutually assured destruction through interreliance.
Oh, and he also makes wolf-sized ants that till the earth and eat weeds.
Hummus - 8MP 1MP: Create giants, huge ants with shovel-like mandibles that live off of weeds that grow near and on farm fields. They till the soil in search of parasitic growths and to mix the top soil. They also add detritus and waste as mulch to the farm soil to keep it from drying out. They are very territorial, though, so they make for poor farm animals. They are more of a wild animal that does the farmer a favour by eating weeds, but will run him down and beat him to death if he sees him. These also farm mushrooms on a large scale and build huge hives commonly confused for being hilltopd near farmland. 1MP: Made the Striped Lands, a huge flat area of land that is immensely fertile for agriculture, where the earth has already been preworked and prepared for the settlement of agriculteurs and their plants. Its fertility draws life of all kinds, so it's a competitive place to live. 6MP
"Ggggreeetttings! My master, Lareus, sends an invitation to come visit him in your dreams." Said the thing that had appeared before her. Much to Sylia’s credit, she had not been alarmed by the sudden intrusion of her personal space but was in fact, disgusted by the thing with too many eyes and too many arms. It looked like a sack of flesh that was too dim witted to realize that it should be screaming in pain. Not because it should have been in perpetual pain, but because of how ugly it was. If this was what awaited her in the dreaming world… Her lips curled into a frown. Though perhaps many arms would be beneficial in situations that demanded… She shook her head and filed that thought away for later.
“The invitation is received.” She stated to the thing, “Though I must confess, sleep is not something that has ever crossed my mind as being needed. Furthermore, Dreaming is a part of the immaterial and I have taken a personal vow to never allow myself to immaterial again. Do send your master my condolences. He may visit me if and when I find a place of permanent residence. Farewell.” She turned away from the thing and looked out over the ocean of origin.
Sylia felt as if the thing was about to speak again and flew up into the sky at a blinding speed.
“Ugh.” She groaned, massaging the bridge of her nose. “Such strange deities, these kin of mine.”
Sylia had come to a stop just on the edge of space and looked at the budding world in its entirety. An ocean on the south pole. Seas on the north pole. Cruel dispositions on both of them. Especially the one made entirely of blood but the north felt uniquely insidious. Both areas would have to be looked at, for she had a sense that one of her kin behind it was not a Divine of reasonable intellect. The other, she could only ponder for the same signature in the north hung around the Tree of Life. A sunbeam acting as a beacon for all time. She looked up at the fledgling light. Very curious.
To top it all off, splitting the world in half was a river the likes of which she had never imagined. Water falling pure from the very sky. It wrapped around the vast crater of the origin, like a snake wrapping around an egg. Truly there would be vast civilizations there, for they were already being made.
She did not understand why the short, diminutive, green-skinned creatures known as ‘Goblins’ were so widespread. She would chalk it up to Galaxor being more headstrong than logical and really, who was she to stop others from taking a fancy to them? If one lacked originality in their own designs, it was only natural to take from the existing pool. Sylia rubbed her chin in thought. Perhaps she could make them better? Enlighten the masses? Well, she wouldn’t go down to the fledgling civilization in the south, not yet anyways, since the uplifting there was already under way.
No, she would head north, not so far as the pole but where the blood rains had not touched the pristine land. Where the vast rivers would bring greenery and with it, an abundance of life. And there, in some unassuming place, she would show them all, mortal and divine alike, just how to create.
From the land of solemn trees and lush vales came a towering complex of Sylia's design. She had chosen the spot not because there was a Divinium pocket underneath, for there wasn’t but because of the location. Crafted from marbled gold and black obsidian, with inlays of silver. Three massive flat circles, acting like a giant's staircase, sat nestled into the hills overlooking a river. Her Atelier. The largest of circles was used as a base, or the first level, and it contained much verdant vegetation and trees. The suckle of craft. The first steps any could take in a new world would be made here.
The second level sat behind the first, with an overlook to take in the view below. Here many rocks and ores could be found, with great sources of heat and industry. Once a mastery for wood was achieved, those with apt minds could try their hand at shaping stone and molding metal.
The final circle sat above the second and here it had a great silver dome covering it, ornate and bejeweled with diamonds. At the height of the day, the sun would hit the dome and light would refract in wondrous beauty, as envisioned by the Goddess. Within that dome sat a personal residence and workshop of Sylia. A crafter’s dream, where the general advancement of the world could take place. Here the fabric of the universe could be unraveled, studied and put to use.
As a final flourish, a great metal work sprang forth from the land and settled over the second circle. A silver orb hung fixed in the middle of giant rings. One made of wood, one made of stone and one made of iron. These rings were in constant motion around the orb, never touching it or the other rings, defying gravity all the while.
When this was at last done, Sylia walked down the long steps that connected the three tiers, prodding her Holy Site with improvements like a fussing hen with her nest. Mainly, on either side of the stairs that started from the very top, she willed into existence two streams of water and watched as it cascaded down out into the distant river. And within such a gaze she saw what she had hoped for- Mortals.
Goblins. It seemed Galaxor had thrown these diminutive species everywhere, leaving them to their fates. As a dozen or so arrived at the first step of The Atelier, Sylia went down to meet them. All eyes were fixed upon her form and she realized, most of them were squinting. With but a thought her form shifted to that of the marble at her feet, her hair forming into obsidian curls before it ceased movement altogether. Now with wider eyes, most took a step back. A few even tripped in surprise.
She looked at them and saw beings of flesh, blood and bone. Bruises lay on most, with cuts, and scrapes. Dried blood and dirt mixed upon their unwashed and thin naked bodies. The smell of refuse and decay was among them, mixed with pheromones. Fear mainly and… She looked upon one female and two heartbeats greeted her. Already with child. Sylia sighed. Animals would be animals, she supposed.
She came to a stop before them and a command echoed from her voice, “Kneel.” And they did.
“Who is capable of speech?” She asked, walking down amongst them. “You may rise if you are.”
When none of them did, she sighed. She came to a stop in the middle, ideas buzzing in her mind.
“You are called Goblins. Your creator chose this name. He and I are kin but I am not him and not your creator. I am Sylia, Goddess of Crafting. Matron of Metals. You know what I am, for some part in those infant minds you can comprehend the magnitude of this being before you. There is no need to be afraid, I have been tasked with the uplifting of all species that desire it. And you desire it. This world will be changing but this place will remain as it is, for all time. Here you will learn and here you will grow.” she said. “Now, to be admitted you must tell me this- Who amongst your group have chosen violence upon another? Rise and point.” Sylia said, her eyes narrowing as she looked at their kneeling forms.
She waited, the air thick with growing anticipation. And then sprang up a shaking young male. He held his body close, as his right eye was beaten shut and his lips puffy. He pointed to another Goblin male, this one jumping up at the accusation. Not first to plead innocence to the God before him but to glower at the pointer. In one quick motion, Sylia was before the glowering goblin, who did not have time to register what happened next. Sylia simply laid a finger upon his brow and his flesh became ash, leaving only bones behind.
There came an audible shock from the Goblins, who were by this point, looking up and at her. The Goddess bent over and plucked a femur from the bone white pile before turning to them and saying with a smile, “First we shall go over bone and its many uses!”
Sylia responds to @eviledd1984 and declines the invitation on grounds of it being a place of the Immaterial, when she is rather pro-material. Next she muses on the going of the planet and decides to create a Holy Site in the north of the world, noting that it lacks any godly touch just yet. Some goblins show up at the end and she decides to teach them how to work bone first, after procuring the bone, of course.
2MP Starting
-1MP For a holy site, the Atelier(3MP). (2 Domains related(Crafting, Metal = x3 bonus) - Made of marble and obsidian with a lot of silver, this three tiered, large structure has been designed by Sylia, replenishing resources and providing a relatively safe place for those who just want to learn how to do live and provide for themselves. ~ The Blessing of the Crafter, Any who endeavor to learn and master a craft will find that it is easier to do so in this place and their projects become masterworks. ~ The Blessing of Metal, Any who learn and practice the art of metal working here will find that it is easier to do so and their projects become masterworks.
Asheel freaked out about sloth dying, made a triple form monowheel bike, zoomed about, found some goblins and then her Maintainer/Mother personality took the wheel to transport those goblins, and a load of other ones, to the new mega river that circles the world
It was quite the picturesque scene: goblins, recently saved from the desert, danced and played along the riverbanks they had been brought to, saved by its sweet hydration and lush plant life that covered its banks.
Admittedly it hadn’t all been sunshine and roses. Turns out drinking lots and then eating loads of random green things after having been close to dying of thirst had some ironic and unpleasant consequences on the digestive system. Plus they didn’t really know how to swim. Also the plants kept sassing them.
Still, for every group running headlong into tragedy there were ones who were having the time of their lives. Admittedly their lives had mostly consisted of gradually dying in a desert before that, and still, the river lands they had been dropped off in were beautiful. Clear blue waters filled with shimmering fish ran slowly but steadily by, flanked by wide zones of wetlands full of all sorts of pretty plants.
Those close to the central sea had it even better, because they could climb up the hills and cliffs surrounding the divot in the earth, and look down into it to see the seas, islands and, most glorious of all, the giant tree that defied all logic.
One particular group of goblins sat atop one of these picturesque cliffs, a pile of fruits, leaves, sticks, roots and other plant things resting on the bear rock which they were periodically munching on as they argued casually. Them and a Daffotale growing in a clod of mud that one of the goblins had adopted.
“Iz a big tree, just very far away. Bigger than anything else in world!” one goblin who considered themselves master of perspective insisted.
“Nonsense. Shangshi La has huge waterfalls I’ll have you know. They must be way bigger to be able to fill the river!” the Daffodate sat in another goblin’s lap insisted.
“Yeah, but you never saw em, did you? Meanwhile I saw a big big hill in the desert. Spent whole time there trying to walking around it! That must be bigger. You can see past that tree” a second goblin insisted, pointing vaguely at an island behind the tree.
“Desert make walking slow, bet could walk nice and fast down there” insisted a third, only for the first to needle them with “Wot, you can walk on water now?”
“Ya know what mean, dummy” they retorted, only for a fourth to derail the question by asking “Wonder what it tastes like” which got them all musing on that very important question.
“Trees blech. Hard. Plus you just scrape teeth on it and get nuffin” one posited at last which got several nods, only for another to retort “But the leafy things, maybe they good? Gotta be huuuuuge. Eat one all day”
“Then have to climb up all the way there. Fall and you go splat. I know, I seen it in desert” another said, which got several shudders, and a few confused looks from the ones lucky enough to have not witnessed a messy death yet.
“Splat how? How can goblin go splat?” one of those innocent ones asked, to which the one who had brought it up responded by demonstrating, which they did by picking up a mushy fruit and then tossing it off the cliff they were all hanging about on top of. The fruit fell down down down, and then promptly went splat down below.
“Like that. But with more red. Creepy kinda dark red, not like the flowers that are red. Bad red” she insisted, which caused one to point up and ask “dat red?” as he pointed up at the way the southern sky
“I… Yeah… Like dat…” the goblin agreed hesitantly, rather unnerved by what the sky was doing.
“Is dat bad? Did goblin go splat in sky?” the one who had asked about splatting asked again
“I dunno… but don’t like it” the splat explainer replied, before glancing at their flower companion and asking “is that place where water come from”
“I suppose. But That’s on the other side of the world though, and that certainly doesn’t look like water” the Daffotale replied, the plant tilting its flower to one side as it tried to figure out what was going on, before in straightened up all of a sudden was it realized “oh no wait is that getting closer!?”
That question rebooted the perspective argument up for a few moments before the rain was spotted hitting the south side of the crater, and by that point it was too late. The blood rain swept across the inhabited equator within moments, splattered down from on high causing the goblins to panic and flee in all directions. Some kept panicking till the rain ended, or worse, met their untimely end as a result of their panic. Some realized the rain didn’t hurt and stopped, and some of those happened to turn their maws up to the sky and drink it in, giving them their first taste for the stuff. Those that did so in the desert bought themselves more time to be rescued.
The goblins on the hill however, found their way to a cool cave they had found earlier, rushing inside and out of the bloody rain, each and every one soaked in red. The only one saved from this was the daffotale, who’s beautiful delicate form had been shielded by its bearer’s own body.
After they’d caught their breath, the brave among them then turned around to take a look at what they had been caught in, marvling in the awesome supernatural terror of it.
One of them leaned against the entrance of the cavern with one hand, and then happened to look at the spot after she pulled it away.
“Huh. Look. Hand on wall!” she called out, which freaked several out till they saw what she meant: namely that there was now a bloody handprint on the wall. Specifically “my hand!” the goblin marveled as she hovered it over the mark.
“Me try me try!” another insisted, before they slapped a hand against the wall, leaving more of a splotch than a hand, causing them to go “awww” in disappointment
“Maybe slow like” a third said as he more gently pressed a blood soaked hand to the wall, then pulled it back, revealing the first bit of intentional art the goblins had ever seen (made by mortal hands anyway).
This got several oos from the other goblins, except the first who insisted “me discover it, not him!” before slapping the wall a few times for emphasis. Then she had a look at the splats and made a few more, wiping her hand on her blood covered body and deliberately adding a few more splats before stepping back and revealing her “big tree!” made out of handprints.
That got even more ooo’s and then everyone wanted to have a go, resulting in a flurry of art that left the goblins so distracted that they didn’t even notice that the rain was gone till one of them ran out of blood and went to get more.
“Oh! It over!” the goblin called out to the others excitedly, before realizing that that meant “aw, no more blood for making wall shapes”
“Maybe pools?” Another suggested, which got them all excited again, goblins spilling out of the cave and then returning to it with fresh handfuls of blood, only for them all to get a proper look at what they had made in the light of day post blood rain.
A lot of it was just hands and nature, but several had made attempts to record other things, such as painting themselves or, in one big collaborative section, painting the goddess who had saved them, a goblin surrounded by a ring appearing before lots of smaller goblins.
“Oh, is that supposed to be me?” asked a voice from behind the goblins, causing them all to spin around and behold a figure wearing a wide brimmed pointed hat. Behind her were a collection of other goblins, their bodies still dusted with the sands of the desert, and behind that, parked on the river itself, the great crystal sphere that had brought them all here.
There was a little moment of stunned silence caused by the sudden appearance of the Maintainer in their midst lingered on for just enough time to get awkward, at which point one finally spoke up and confirmed that “yeah!” it was meant to be her, before the goblin asked, a little hesitantly “um, do you like it?”
“Oh I just love it my dears!” the goddess proclaimed with clear and genuine delight “such creativity, taking something that must have scared you so much and turning it into something beautiful,” before clarifying that “and I don’t just mean the part depicting me, naturally. It's all quite wonderful”
She swept into the cave to make a show of taking a proper look at everything, which left the goblins who had been huddled behind her exposed. They shied away from their fellows because they were, well, covered in blood while these goblins had clearly managed to avoid the storm inside.
Of all people it was the Daffotale who broke the silence with a call of “Hello hello! Welcome to the river-lands of the great Tuuni!” before it added apologetically “I swear it’s a lot nicer looking when its not drenched in blood”
Indeed, the lands were absolutely coated in it, and the river presently ran red, with all the blood that had fallen into it here and upstream.
“Not to worry, I’m sure that it will be cleaned up in no time” the Daffotale insisted.
“Yeah. Hope so. Blood is stinky, but there’s water and plant things to eat. Much better than desert” one of the blood covered goblins said, before offering to show the others about, and to get some grub in them.
Most eagerly agreed, but a few stayed behind, and asked about how they’d made the walls.
The remaining cave painters eagerly explained, but then lamented that “once blood is all gone, or dry, then no more painting”
“Maybe use own blood?” another suggested, which got mixed responses, along with one pointing out that “Not much space left either”
“Well, the blood will wear off in time unfortunately” the goddess told them as she stepped into their conversation “so there will be space then but ah, it would be a shame to lose it all. A real shame” before she gave a “hmmm” of a thought.
She held that thought for a moment, and then snapped her fingers as she had an “idea!” before she lightly tapped the cave wall. In an instant, it grew and grew, forming a great cathedral sized dome of stone, which then lit up as the walls began to softly glow.
The paintings that had been made were still there, but had been moved up to just above the height the goblins could reach, freeing up space below. If they looked closely at those paintings, they could see that they were slowly moving, rising up towards the ceiling. This caused one painting to bump into another due to the shape of the dome, causing both to disappear, much to the alarm of the painters, only for the Maintainer to quickly point out that they had re-appeared elsewhere on the dome.
“There we go, now there is space to paint more pictures, and the ones that have been made will cycle in and out of existence in such a way that everything gets a turn to reappear again and again and again” she told them getting many ooo’s and aaaahs of amazement from the goblins.
“Now then, as fun as this has been, I really should be off. There are still goblins to save out there, though i do hope all that blood has bought me some more time” she said before telling them “you all play nice now, and I look forwards to seeing what you end up filling this place with” and then stepping out the room in a flash, leaving the goblins to marvel at their gift for a few moments.
Then they all ran outside to get more blood to do even more painting.
Some goblins hang out on a hill overlooking the central seat. They chatter about this and that thanks to Asheel teaching them how to talk, only to be interrupted by the blood rain. They flee for the safety of a nearby cave, and within invent cave painting (using blood). One of the things they paint is the Maintainer rescuing them from the desert, which catches the goddess' eye as she is delivering more goblins to the area.
She appears, praises their work, and then does the goodly equivalent of pining it to the fridge by making a holy site dedicated to the preservation of the art, as well as providing space to add even more art to the site’s collection.
Then she runs off to go save more gobbos, of which there will be quite a few more still alive thanks to the blood rain providing both fluid and nutrients
1mp for Asheel to teach the goblins about gods, and how to communicate with them (and by extension, each other) 1mp for a cycle based holy site, the cave of painted memories: a large dome like chamber in the eastern cliffs surrounding the central sea. Lit bly glowing walls, the chamber will cause paintings to rise up from the painting spot at the base of its walls, and then swirl the artwork around its dome, paintings fading in and out of existence in such a way that all the art gets its time to shine. The holy site is maintained by the addition of new art, and will be lost to entropy as all things do should additions cease to be made to it.
A problem between Death, Life and Civilization stuck between then.
Death searched and searched each door, and he found one that seemingly could assist him, he took a deep breath and sighed looking down as he placed a hand over his heart, and he looked up as he reached forward through a door. He had done this once and it felt natural, but now it did not. He took a deep breath, and stepped through back into the realm of the living.
From a shadow a figure came out, cloaked in white a hooded figure appeared there ageless, sunken blue eyes with the tears of a lifetime upon their corners as he looked at the figure he saw in his mirror. He took a deep breath and reached out with his hand as he had tried once before with life. For death had come seeking something he could not do. He looked off in the distance to see a proud statue, and then back at the woman in front of him.
“When I saw the beginning of life, I was astonished by it’s beauty, and I tried to create my own but couldn’t. I need help…”
Turning to the woman he soon noticed she seemed fixated in a paper she wrote. He could notice she had divine energy but she seemed to not even have noticed him. The paper in question seemed like plans for the region involving the local tribes of the harrow.
Death took a deep breath, and marched forward, his hand reached out with only a few fingers pointed out as he stopped before touching the paper, he retracted his hand and sighed, repeating his original statement. “When I saw the beginning of life, I was astonished by it’s beauty, and I tried to create my own but couldn’t. I need help… and maybe, with that, I can help you with your plans.”
Turning back to the woman, she seemed to still stare at her paper, blankly like nothing had happened. In fact she seemed to barely even have a soul.
Death just looked at the blankly reached for her hand, and she would feel cold before he even touched her, his pointer and middle finger barely touching her as the cool skin touched the goddesses hand. “Hello there.”
Her eyes finally turned seeing him. A moment of respite at least until she jumped. Surprised and scared the goddess jumped back landing in the sand on her feet looking around in shock. Seeing she was alone with him she then said her first words since being born to a god. “HOW? You!? Where did you come from? when?”
“I just walked out from there.” Death said as he turned his head towards an empty spot as if there was something there, and then back at here. “I am sorry if I have offended you in any way, but you are the first I have spoken to. I tried to speak to another… but, I am afraid I offended her as well by destroying that which she created.”
She looked curious seeing things after realizing things. Her face and mind seemed to calm down as she returned to a light smile and look she then said. “So…” As she said that in a long form she seemed to examine him before saying. “You are like… me?” She soon stopped examining before saying. “Never met one of us before…” “There seems to be many of us… scattered, and spread apart. The one which I am a reaction to is that which created many beautiful things, she can do things that I cannot.” Death said as he reached forward once again, “I seemingly change things, I cannot truly create, only manipulate, or mimic something beautiful. But you seem to be in need of assistance, how may I be of service? Because I know that you may help me as well.”
“You are the manifestation of death?” She said in interest she pondered for a moment giving just a nod she then said. “It’s logical… life begets its opposite… what happened to life that seems to be the one you met before me to cause her to be offended?”
“Death… I would rather seek life.” he said quietly as he looked down, “Death is a word I have not heard until now. It is a fitting, it is a sad word, it is… the opposite of life. But when I left her sight, I touched her creations and watched them wilt, they broke down and were pitiful as I fled from her sight into the place that feels natural to me.”
“That sounds sad… but you are death…” She said confused thinking again of a god that disliked its own domain of responsibility that seemed wrong to her. After thinking she soon realized the sadness of him it felt she should say something at least anything she soon said bowing for a moment. “Forgive my lack of manners… i am El’zadir goddess of civilization…” She smiled softly to him; her eyes were red like ruby stars and her obsidian skin seemed to shine a bit, her silver hair being an interesting contrast.
There were eyes that went from blue, to red, but to gray, as his skin went through a few darkening shades but kept to a pale white beneath the sheets he wore. His smile was not as large as hers, but he looked at her, “I would rather seek life… seek something beautiful, death is so cold… I decided, I wanted to make it something else. I created a place for death it seems, and I want it to be joyous, I want it to be celebrated. But, I realize I have a purpose, and it is one that… is so… final, but needed.”
She looked confused for a moment at his remark after a pause she then said. “Maybe our gifts can be beautiful in their own ways?” She said looking quite confident but inside she didn’t know how to address him. She was, civilization and for all peoples death or the final door of existence was difficult to be seen as a good thing besides the life someone lived until ending.
He nodded and his hand reached out towards her, “I am a necessity, I can mimic, and while what I create might be, beautiful. But that does not mean it does not feel cold. It does not feel… like me.” Death whispered.
“But, for a civilization what do you need?” he asked looking down at her.
She looked at him for a few severe moments. She could use a hand but she noticed he seemed more needing help with life. For some reason both seemed close friends perhaps? or he saw them as friends and wanted to be in that relationship. But still his offer was an offer that she would have difficulty turning down since it was an offered hand turning it down seemed bad. She took a long breath and after a sigh she then said. “How about this… i make something for life… a portrait of her in the form of a race… in switch you make something for me to make a civilization for?” it made sense she could use more living space then just… looking around at the desert. Looking for a time and thinking she actually stopped for a moment thinking it was stupid the surface seemed very habitable she soon started saying. “Actually no that sounds st-” As thunder could be heard by both the sky, soon began to rain blood. As she stared up she then said. “No… that… ye do that please…”
“I will create you something to make a civilization for, and find others to do the same with. But, I must see you create this image. I must have a basis, something to mimc because then I can make something… it will not be perfect, but I will try to do right by you and what you wish to honor. But, she is similar to yourself, beautiful and fair, but her skin is white and her hair red. She seems bountiful to create something like you, but I will do my best to do right…” Death slowly lowered his hand as his white cloak became black with the blood that soaked it, and he looked down and up at her as he tried to smile but he felt cold. He felt frozen in that moment though he was not.
As El’zadir thought while soaked in the blood rain she then said. “So like me but fair skinned and red haired?” After thinking she gave a nod she then said. “Fine i will craft and let you see in time maybe you will find ways to not mimic.” She said with a smile. After trying to concentrate she sighed before saying. “One second.” She soon lifted a cover for the blood rain to not hit her as she drained her hair she said. “Who did this?” she asked confused before sighing.
With a deep breath she lifted the sand rising a large stone as the stone cracked and shaped as she moved her hands, her divine power crafting a being. She focused on what life might be, beautiful to the sight, fair, red haired, a connection to nature and magic. As the sculpting was done of the boulder a elf was made as El looked at him curiously as he awoke she then said. “Oh hey there…” from the sand below others suddenly awoke as well from below confused. El’zadir was confused for a moment before saying. “Oh i see… seems like i can’t just make one just influence a whole…”
Death just looked at the creations, and all he saw was beauty in the sands as he watched the Goddess created this by herself. He stared at them, they were beautiful, they came in pairs, a male, and female. He reached out towards them, his face covered by the dark cloak as his hand was all that could be seen reaching out towards them. They saw death, and he was coming for them, but not for the reason they thought. He saw them, and they ran from death. They would be long living he knew, they were perfect as a gift, but he knew that he could not do it himself.
He looked at the Goddess, and lowered his hand, “I will show you where she is, where a civilization can be built if you take these to her. For your creation, I will make it there before I leave… in shame for I cause fear in those that are beautiful.”
As they were panicking over death she soon whispered to herself. “Thank creation I also made then long lived…” To their panic she soon clapped as everyone around fainted. She soon sighs in relief before saying. “Sure I will help you take them to life… where is she?”
Death ripped the sleeves from his robes as he held them out towards her, “Blind fold your beautiful creation. Blindfold the elves and yourself for they are beauty, and I do not wish for them to see darkness before they reach the beauty of life. I will take you through my realm, and deposit you at the tree, where you will work best, where civilizations will be created.”
What?” El asked, confused dealing with his speech.
He held his sleeves out to her, “Blindfold yourselves and those you created… I will lead you to somewhere where you can create a beautiful civilization.”
“Ah sure?” She snapped fingers as all the unconscious elfs would be blindfolded she then grabbed the sleeves wrapping around her eyes saying. “I just hope this isn’t bad…”
Death took her hand, and made sure the elves were ready before he turned and he stepped through into his realm. His hand, went from cold to almost warm, it was much different than he is in the mortal realm. But, all around him, and those around him it felt as if there was only cold things. They would move by the trees, but then minutes later, they were back into the mortal realm.
“You make take them off…” he said quietly as they appeared beside the tree of life, under one of it’s mighty branches. He looked at her, and backed into the shadows so that he did not scare the elves, but his eyes still shined in the darkness. “I will make you something… go now… I will start.”
With that he stepped back into his realm, and started to form in his hands something in imitation, it was masterful but simple. A simple creature, from the things she created. Death created something stouter, something, shorter, and with something that she did not give. A life span, it was long, but it was nowhere near the almost ageless beings of the elves. He created the dwarves, and with the cold stony interior of where they were made, their love to craft.
Meanwhile El’zadir dried her hair off the blood that was still pouring outside. She looked above and soon thinked. “Who is making this?” as she was confused the elves were beside her. She put them to sleep again. It was easier than to have a lot of questions and chaos around the ongoing blood rain. She was already feeling the panic of sapient beings in the first civilization she sprouted in the world. Awaiting death she wondered what he was doing.
He stepped back out with twenty dwarves, all stout short, and strong. Ten males, and ten females, five pairs to begin her civilization. He smiled softly, “They will try to do what I cannot… But, they are yours, they will be strong. They will age, and be free with you showing them how to grow.”
“That’s good…” She said looking at the dwarfs she then said. “I am surprised you said you can only mimic it looks quite good and…” She soon also clapped making the dwarfs sleep as they soon seemed confused by the blood rain she then sighed saying. “Okay I just need to find a place to put them since the world is very occupied.”
Death smiled, “This is a small part of it, but, I can take you to a place once my gift is delivered.” he said as he smiled, “we will be awaiting your return, and I can take you anywhere you wish to begin your work.” “Um… sure I will wait outside here…” She said looking around the tree in the rain not knowing where even she was she then said. “Just be quick as I have a duty to uphold just my job you know.” She finished with a nod and a smile.
Death nodded softly, as he looked at her, “I was… hoping you might do it, I do not wish to damage them. Or, harm them in any way, that is why I had you hold my hand instead of them. ”
“Okay so you want me to go with you while walking hand in hand with the elfs? as you talk with life?” El’zadir asked death.
He shrugged and nodded as he looked at her, “I am just giving her a gift in reparation for ruining her creations. It is… something I guess I should do, yes. I will come with you instead.”
With that he stepped out leaving the dwarves in his realm surrounded by stone, and he started walking towards where he last saw the woman he named life.
Death took a step forward, his hand outstretched to the goddess beside him leading the train of those he would give as gifts. He looked back behind him, then forward once again, his clothing like a flag around him fitting to his form as he wore thin cloths of his home. This was not his home, it was something else. He stared up at the tree, and stared at how enormous it was, it was beyond what he had seen when he had one focus, when he decided to see something besides just life. But now, he was back to make amends for what he did wrong.
“Life… are you here?” he asked, “My opposite, I am here with a gift, something created just for you.”
Civilization, El’zadir walked behind death escorting the elfs with her looking around the giant tree she was wandering inside. This was a new experience for her especially as things in the past couple days were not rather strange. Meeting life was an interesting prospect especially as she was a product of sapient life she wondered if life was technically her mother.
“I am everywhere.”
The voice echoed from all around. From the grass on the ground below them. From the titanic tree before them. From the small shrubs next to them. Allianthé stepped forth from her tree to meet her fellow divine. She met them with clasped hands and a bright smile. “I’m sorry.” She said, her voice restrained now only to her form. “If I had known you would visit I would prepared a feast.” Then her eyes darted towards the elves and her smile became just a little bit brighter. But her attention quickly shifted back to the two gods.
“My name is Allianthé, goddess of life. And you are?”
El’zadir took a step back seeing Allianthé she soon said with a bow. “I am El’zadir, goddess of civilization, Allianthé.”
“I am Death.” Szukaj-Zycia said in a flat tone, “The one born in reaction to you, the one who turned these red flowers to nothing with just my touch when I wanted to gift one to you. I… am sorry for ruining your creations, I am envious of you, you do everything I cannot. So, in my hopes to give you something… I found one who can do what I cannot, and had her make something in your image… Something to repay you for what I have done. I have thought nothing of it, but to find a way to do this, thus I found her…”
For a few while now Allianthé felt that something had been amiss in the world. Something at the edges of her senses was plucking away at her creations. It put a stop to their growth forever. For a while she didn’t want to acknowledge that. Now that she was confronted with the truth, she couldn’t ignore it anymore.
“Death?” There was a quiver in her voice. Like it was about to crack. As she said it, she was filled with a realization of what it meant. The finality of it shook her. A tear fell from her eyes and she fought herself to stay composed. Who was this pale reflection? This cruel tyrant? Who dared to put a stop to her children? To life? To her? Death!? She would shove such an insignificant concept aside! Her thoughts reached out towards the Khodex. Yes, should could break open that stone. She could scratch out the very idea of death!
And then she caught her temper. It was eating away at her. Yes, she could be as spiteful and uncaring as the wilds but she did not have to be. Death apologized. He admitted to his sin. He saw the error of his own way and brought her creation, even going as far as bidding another goddess to help him out, to rectify his mistakes. “Forgive my temper.” Allianthé said, though there was still an edge in her voice that she was trying to suppress. Then her eyes turned towards the elves. She needed to fill her heart with something else than sorrow for the lost flowers. “They look beautiful.” She said to the two gods. “Come, be welcome to Arbor. Home of the Khodex!” She said, her cheerful and friendly demeanor returned as she motioned towards the Tree of Life and the Khore within.
Behind him, as a shadow came through, several blue lights appeared in the darkness as his flowers bloomed, but he did not know. He just took a step to the side, and smiled softly. “If my creations were doomed by the touch of something I too would likely have a temper with that touch. I am angry at myself for not knowing what I am… But, I do now. I envied the beauty of your creation and work. I could only mimic it in my own world. Your flowers I touched are safe there, along with branches of this tree, and it’s seeds. My own place mimics this, and is behind walls to confuse those that try to harm it. I just hope… that… you find beauty in her work, it is something… Your creations are as beautiful as you, and I hope that they enjoy this life given, they will live long as I have not touched them, likely as old as us. But, if you wish to see your flowers again, I would be glad to show them to you.”
His eyes looked back at the goddess that stood closest to him, “I thank you… again, for aiding me.”
El’zadir looked at him giving a nod with a smile looking at Allianthé on the other hand she seemed a bit less than happy to learn of death. At Least for a moment she then said. “It is always good to help someone…” She then turned to Life bowing again saying. “It is a pleasure to also meet you Mother of life.”
The goddess of Life led the other divine and the elves towards the Tree of Life, but she bid the elves to stay outside. The conversation the group of divine were about to have would weigh too much on their newly born psyches she reckoned. It was better to spare them. So she explained how they could pluck the fruits from trees and eat them without fear.
Once inside in the Khore, Allianthé spoke up first while walking towards the center where the Khodex was still held. “I believe there are a great many things to discuss. Some more important than others.” Her eyes turned towards Death. “But allow me first to make a small request. This is the Khore, it is where the venerable Khodex first landed. All around you can see the alcoves. I would love it each of you could chose one and place something that represents you. So mortals who visit this place can learn about the divine.”
“And then I would like to make a request of you, lady El’zadir. I am but a simple goddess. Omnipotence still elludes me. So I need mortal followers. I thank you, both of you, for your gift of sapient mortals but I fear I am ill suited to give them more than full bellies and safe places to sleep. Frankly speaking, I need your help to make Arbor into the prosperous center of harmony that I wish to spread across the world.”
Death smiled softly as he looked at her, “I was written in to existence besides you life… I did not know my purpose when I stood beside you as you made this beauty… I knew nothing of myself except for I was different from you. I found my purpose because of you, and I found a way to create something… It is not as beautiful, but, I was hoping that one day, you would wish to see it once it was full… Death… I found is, just the beginning of another journey. Another part of life, I saw your beauty, even in death.”
The two could feel or hear the equivalent of machinery moving the clanking of machines on the march. El’zadir seemed hyper focused again but snapped as the clanking stopped before saying. “Of course I will help you Allianthé but… could you help the dwarfs that lay at the roots of thy tree make a home for them as I work on helping the gift for you?” as she finished speaking the sound of clanking of old gears returned. As she drifted following the elfs only saying. “Come please there is much to do…”
“I dearly wish to believe that death is beautiful.” Allianthé said, now left alone with the one other deity presiding over a primordial function of the universe. Her voice was solemn. “But it is an end to life. Whatever dies cannot grow anymore. What comes after can be beautiful but in its own right.” She stepped up towards Death and reached to touch his cheek. “Death is no path that should be taken. When I envisioned life, it had no end. Will you help me restore that vision?”
Death smiled softly, and he slowly reached for her hand, it was likely cold, but sincere, “I love life, but that is not my path. I do not control how something dies, only once it does. I will give back to you what life needs to nourish itself. With what all is written, I can only do so much to assist you my opposite.”
His eyes closed as he looked down, “But, once it dies, it spirit goes to me, I give it back, or I take it to where it can grow… where it can see it’s past, and enjoy what it was. I am building it still, I built some, but it is new, and I already have several occupants to my home. They cannot come back without effort. But, I do not think they wish to either…”
“You and them can remain wrong for now I suppose. As long you do not stop me on my quest to restore the original vision, I’ll be happy.” Allianthé offered Death a faint smile. As long as he wouldn’t resist her. A part of her believed he might though. As much as he claimed to love life he seemed to enjoy making its mimicry. What would happen once the living stopped dying and thus stopped visiting. She took a step back, restoring the distance between the two. “Feel free to chose your alcove. Mortals should learn about even you.” With that and an small, apologetic bow she strode outside the Tree of Life.
The dwarves she found were small and stocky. Already they looked as if the green lands above were a both to them. Below was their home and Allianthé knew it in an instant. With nothing but a thought the very earth began to move and sink. Smaller roots of the Tree of Life curled around the tunnels below. Making sure that they’d be supported. The goddess’ tunnels soon reached deep enough to find the tunnels already made there by another, and populated by another sapient species.
This was not enough to Allianthé. These dwarves would not remain content with fruits and simple vegetables. She saw in their eyes a need, a desire, for something stronger. So she manifested that desire. Deep within the hallowed root halls, she bid a new plant to come forth. It was little more than a shrub growing on the ceiling of these great halls, fed by the Tree of Life’s influence. Of course, the shrub could be planted above ground as well, in the nourishing warmth of the sun. Allianthé smiled as she sensed the new life already flourishing and producing the soon to be sought after nuts. In her heart she hoped El’Zadir would enjoy love it.
El’zadir meanwhile dealt with the elfs above, her first experiment was with the Saleve'nios and with that experience she started working she had little energy as of the moment. But she knew that Allianthé would help them in the long run. So she worked in setting up a law system amongst the elves, teaching them and instructing them in ways of order. Creating a society focused around the sanctity of nature, the importance of family, and the veneration of life. At the same time she began to teach them to use the tools given by death to make arts in the walls. To make ink and craft beautiful items to be in their hands small wooden sculptures to grand paintings that would put awe to the eyes of many. She then teached then how to tame the animals of the wild and use then to their needs, riding to transportation to others. At the same time she used their skills to teach them and their curiosity on how to craft and create great tools and items from the little materials they could find around. She worked on following Allianthé’s request followed by her focused mind and fully guided by her domain.
Death just watched the others leave, and he looked for a small spot in the hall as he found the outcove across from life, and he slowly placed a hand to where it was as he moved a part of his cloak from his shoulder and tore it off before forming something to look like him pointing across the room. He sighed softly, and knew the other two were gone. He knew that life, likely did not trust him, and that was a fair statement, and thought. He was not of a domain to be trusted, he was death, a finality. But he believed it didn’t have to be, that you should cherish your life. He knew life did not think that way, and he only saw it as life, and death. Then, he thought of her words, a way to end it, there was a way. He smiled softly, and left the treet, touching it with his cloak instead of his hand.
He raced around to find the dwarves had left his world to enter this one again, well some of them, not all of them. He followed them down to where they were now going to live. “Allianthe, I may have a way… It… will not look good, but it is another necessity if, I wish to be like you, with how many things are in this world, there is one thing that can control it. It is a hard one, but if you trust me. I will forever be yours.”
Death after killing the flowers of Allianthé, went on seeking help of someone to deal with it. Finding El'zadir Civilization in her tasks in the lands of the Harrowfane, after finding she has a defficit of attention. He then went on to ask for El'zadir for a gift for life after having a small talk. El'zadir accepted that and she made the elfs and after so a blood rain began having to make then sleep after the planet had a blood wide rain and death itself scared then. From there he took El'zadir and the elfs into the tree of life were Allianthé lived. Soon after making dwarfs as a repayment towards her gift to life.
After entering her home and having a small tense moment for Allianthé after learning of death's existance. She and him had a small yet very similar to husband and wife debacle. With civilization dealing with it feeling confused as if it was either a friendship or something else atleast in her mind. Allianthé and Death soon after made a peace with Life asking for civilization to help with the elfs in making a home in the great tree of life. Which she did at the same time Life made for the dwarfs ale nut plans.
El'zadir=5mp - 3 Mp used to making a sapient race: Elves - 2 MP used for technological advancement x2 * 1 MP carving and laws. * 1 MP incredible arts and taming animals. El'zadir=0mp
Szukaj-życia=10mp - 3 MP used to making a sapient race: Dwarfs - 1 Mp crafting. - 1 Mp for the shrine. Szukaj-życia=5mp
Allianthé=9MP - 1mp used to move dirt around - 1mp (upped to 2) to make the ale nuts Allianthé=7mp
Following the howling winds of a massive sandstorm, Anat’aa bounded on the great empty plains alone. Far behind her the rumble of the glass spiral had faded into silence, day had become night and night had become day again. Or had it gone the other way, or several times? She couldn’t remember or even rightly tell, the only thing that had held her attention recently was the storm. Its constant motion, the currents and eddies of sand capturing her fiery eyes. Constantly darting in and out of the storm, the sparking fox laughed as she let her joy spill out into the storm with great jets of flame. Unfortunately this did not mean she was paying attention to where the storm was taking her. Or, more specifically, into whom.
It was a surprise for the God of Chaos that anyone else was around in the chaotic storm of sand. They had been wandering for quite some time now, easily getting lost amongst the scattered lands, their attention being drawn in every single direction that it could be pulled. That was until a sparking fox slammed into their side, sending them sprawling into the dust and sand. They laid there for a moment, taking in the sky that was still covered over them. Before they finally took note of the fox that was still reeling from the crash into their chaotic form.
“Hello There! Quite The Way To Introduce Yourself!” Yumash didn’t try to move up, instead still laying there.
Physical force was a new experience for Anat’aa, at least in the way that its resistance did not end with the breaking of the world’s skin. She pondered this as she fell end over end, coming to rest on the ground next to the mosaic form of the Chaos god with no small thud. With a rush the form of the fox dissolved, becoming a mass of fire that shot upwards into the standing humanoid form of the Fire Goddess. Turning, her burning hair swirling around her, Anat’aa bent down to look upon Yumash with her characteristic smile.
“A wonderful hello to you as well!” Her voice singing out like a bonfire “I am sorry for that! Got carried away in all this new wind and sand. Do you need any help up? My name is Anat’aa by the way, as I suppose I owe you a better introduction!”
With the last statement her smile broadened as she continued to look at the laying form of the Chaos God.
“Oh It's No Worry!” A sudden swarm of chaos erupted from the god, before it rapidly collected once more, becoming Yumash but just, standing now. “I Was Also Quite Caught Up In That Storm! I’m Yumash By The Way! God of Chaos!” The chaotic being held out their hand towards Anat’aa, a mimic of a smile forming on their watercolor-like head.
Straightening herself, Anat’aa reached her own hand out to accept Yumash’s offered one. Shaking it vigorously, her ember eyes watch the watercolor expressions of the Chaos God before as she continued speaking “A distinct pleasure to meet you Yumash God of Chaos! You have my name, but I am the Goddess of Fire.”
Releasing their hand, Anat’aa stepped around the form of Yumash, half looking at them and half returning her awareness to the surrounding world. “Now what brings you out into this wide open nothing? Into this wonderful teeming space of possibilities my wonderful Chaos?” Her question seems directed both at Yumash and the storm, perhaps neither, perhaps just Yumash.
Yumash gave a hearty laugh, letting their chaotic form shift and change, seemingly eager to show off in front of the fire goddess. “Well I Suppose There’s A Great Many Things. I’m Always Looking For The Next Bout Of Chaos I Can Cause!” They let their gaze shift around as well, towards the storm that continued to roar around them. “OH! Also Pie. I Keep Looking For Pie!”
They gave a chuckle at the storm, trying to grab some of the dust and sand that rocketed around. “And What Brings You Here Oh Shining Flame?” While asking the goddess of flame the question, they were clearly focused on trying to catch the rocks that just shot through their formless form.
For the first time in her existence, a sigh escapes from Anat’aa. Watching the rocks fall through Yumash, she quietly thought to herself. As the sand returned to the ground she collected some of it in her own hand and watched as it shifted in her hand. “That is a good question, a very good question. Maybe change something, i'm good at that!” as if to emphasize her point the dust in her hand begins to glow as it is heated by her very being “But there is so little to change here, so little to burn!”
Throwing the handful of glowing sand to emphasize her point, she watched as it glittered against the storm. Grinning again at this sight she lets her head loll back towards Yumash, admiring their ever shifting form with intense curiosity. “But I suppose that is the beauty of this place, to change the unchanged and to find that pie you mentioned! Honestly, I would love some pie…” Her voice trailed off as her attention once more drifted away, this time to thoughts of baked treats.
“Indeed!” Yumash gave another chuckle at the goddess’ musings. “Changing The Unchanged, Forging A World With Such A Blank Canvas!” They gestured to their surroundings, yelling ever so slightly louder as they proclaimed their words. “Writing The Path That Does Not Exist!” Yumash began to laugh, a cackle that echoed throughout the storm. They laughed, and laughed, and laughed. Their body flaring up with chaotic energy as it continued.
Suddenly, they stopped. Their body returning to a more manageable state, their gaze once more darting about. “I Could Go For Some Pie.” They let out a sigh. “If Only There Were Some Mortals Around. They Make The Best Pies.”
“Mortals…” Anat’aa repeated to herself, “Now that is a thought sweet Yumash. That is a thought. We would need something to start though.” Looking back around at the raging storm, her hand shot out into the howling sand and wind. As she pulled it back she was holding one of the glowing sand grains she had cast off. Its glow brightened as she held it once more.
Turning her gaze back to Yumash, she smiled with almost unrestrained glee “What form would they take though?”
“Hmmm, That Is A Good Question.” They spun around, trying to find any sort of inspiration within the endless storm. But there was nary but rock and sand. “Perhaps…They Have No Singular Form? Oh!” Yumash’s font of chaos for a head erupted suddenly, an idea forming in their mind. “What If They Don’t Have A Singular Form! We Give Them A Variety Of Forms! Oh! And! We Make Them All Animal Like! So No Two Will Be Alike!” The chaos god looked towards Anat’aa, trying to see her opinion on the idea.
Thinking of what Yumash had just proposed, Anat’aa broke into a peel of laughter as she rolled the glowing grain of sand in har hand. “I think that is a wonderful idea! Make them unique, even amongst themselves!”
Grabbing more sand from the storm, Anat’aa added it to her hand “Oh they will be wonderful! We can give them such a fire within them, as unique as them! Like any fire it will spread and grow, but theirs we give them resides in their soul. Each a unique flame that needs its own fuel to grow!”
Letting the sand grow to near melting point, Anat’aa began to whisper something else into it, more than simple heat, the touch of the divine energy that constituted her very being. Now waiting her turn for Yumash’s response, she smiled at the ever changing god as she toyed with the particulates.
“Perfection!” The god of chaos let out a joyful cackle as they clapped their hands together. The chaotic energy surging forward briefly in joy and excitement. “A Vibrant Soul And A Vibrant Form! A Truly Perfect Combination!” They leaned in towards Anat’aa, taking care to not disrupt the particulates in her hand. “I Believe We Have A Fine Idea On Our Hands Here! Shall We Begin?”
With a wry smile Anat’aa held out her hand that contained the shining and glowing particles that once were once sand caught in the storm. Touched by her divine essence they were oh so close to a new modality. They swirled on her palm and flitted about her fingers, as if looking for another “Only if you know how to dance oh good Yumash.”
Yumash placed a hand on their chest, feigning a scoff of insult. “My Dear Flame Of Course I Know How To Dance.” They took her hand, letting theirs cover the swirling particles resting within. Letting the divinity of chaos begin to wash over them. “I’d Think Of No Better Way To Bring These Beings To Life.”
Fully taking her hand, Yumash spun Anat’aa closer towards them, making sure to never let go of the particles. Now fully facing each other, they took her other hand, placing it on their waist before placing their hand on her shoulder. With a slow start, they began to lead Anat’aa in a mimicry of a waltz. One that didn’t bother to keep a pace or conform to its steps. Instead, much like the two who danced it, it was a chaotic and vibrant dance. Letting them both pour their own energies into it.
As they began to speed up, both of them becoming more comfortable in the divine dance, the storm around them too began to change. At first the sand around them began to heat up much like the particles in their hands. The fiery glow of the storm continued to grow in strength, before suddenly, it changed. Instead of sand, now the storm was a whirlwind of leaves that too quickly began to catch fire and burn with intensity. Once more it would change, beginning a chaotic cycle, where the storm would begin to heat up, before changing what it was.
By now the two gods had become a whirlwind, much like the storm itself. Their divine energy had continued to flow into the particles, changing and shifting them into the perfect beginnings of their creations. But the dance was not quite finished, chaos and fire continued to sway and weave together, both of them swapping the lead to each other with each step. The storm roared around them, now being made of strawberries that burned with an intense flame. With another grandiose laugh, Yumash moved Anat’aa into a dip, keeping her stable with one hand while they both let go of the particles with the other.
The glowing beads of divine energy shot forth from their hands. Quickly being taken up by the chaotic maelstrom, their forms rapidly taking shape as the beginnings of a mortal species. As they did, the storm took them from beyond its confines, sending them out throughout the wider world with a divine boost of energy. As they left the storm towards the lands they would settle within, the storm began to settle, the intense heat began to die off and slowly it returned to its original form of sand and rock.
Yumash brought Anat’aa back from the dip, another watercolor smile forming upon the font of chaos that was their head. “Now That Was A Dance! What A Wonderful Bout Of Creation! You’re Quite The Dance Partner, Very Vibrant As Well.”
“Oh give yourself some credit! You're not so bad a dance partner yourself.” Anat’aa laughed, her eyes looking past the surging chaos god’s head at the final winds of the storm. As part of her mind followed the last of the heat dissipate away, she returned her gaze back to Yumash. Returning their watercolor smile with one of her own which remained for a long moment. However Anat’aa soon showed she was not yet done.
Bringing her hand up, she looked down on one last remaining bead of divine energy that she had trapped before its departure. In a whisper she spoke to it “Oh little one, fear not your sibling the flame. See that it will not harm you as others are harmed. This is my gift to you and all those you will become. For like the fire that dances in your souls, you are yet mine.”
With that Anat’aa released the final spark with a rush of flame behind it, letting the divine fire split it into small fragments. Throwing each of its pieces along the wind with its kin, the fragments wove along the other beads of energy, bringing the gift of Anat’aa to the others. A simple gift of protection.
Looking back at Yumash, Anat’aa couldn't stop herself from grinning as she pulled herself into a bow. “Now I feel, dear Chaos, it is my turn to thank you for. How did you put it? Such a wonderful bout of creation.”
They returned the bow with a jovial laugh. “It Was My Pleasure To Assist Such A Sparkling Flame Such As Yourself. I Have No Doubt Our Dear Creations Here Will Be Quite The Wonder.” They returned up from their bow, looking off into the distance of the storm with a content sigh. Before returning their gaze towards Anat’aa. “Alas It Appears Our Storm Is Coming To An End. About Time For Me To Keep Moving, Chaos Never Stops After All.”
Anat’aa offers a short laugh “Indeed, I would not expect it to. Fire must move on as well after a time. Especially now that pie may yet grace the surface of Galbar somewhere.” She ended her statement with a broad grin as her form distorts the contorts back into that of the fox. Giving Yumash a vulpine smile “Until next time good Yumash, God of Chaos.”
“Until Next Time Dear Anat’aa, Goddess of Flame.” Yumash gave the goddess a final wave. Before the chaotic energy that composed them began to vibrate and jitter once more. Soon sending the god shooting off into the distance in a burst of energy. Off to cause more chaos wherever it was needed. Leaving Anat’aa to her own adventures, to spread her flames as well.
After her creation of the glass spiral, Anat’aa finds herself dancing around in a sand storm and enjoying her time. Until she, literally, runs into Yumash who was also vibing in the storm. The two introduce themselves and quickly become good buds with their shared liking of causing change. After mentioning pie, the two decide to create mortals to increase the rate of pie being created, ending up on creating Beastfolk with a mixture of their two domains. Gathering up some sand from the storm, the two dance together, imbuing the particles with their powers and creating the beginnings of the Beastfolk. Which are then scattered via the storm itself, with one group being extra blessed by Anat’aa. Creation done, the two depart, both eager to see what becomes of their mortals.
Yumash Start-8 -1Mp: Contribute to the creation of Beastfolk -1Mp(Gained from Domain Boost): Allow the Beastfolk to take a variety of forms from Mammals, Avians, and Reptiles alongside fusions and half-bloods. These forms do not restrict the Beastfolk’s ability to reproduce, and all combinations can make other unrelated combinations. Additionally they adapt and add variations as other human-like or mundane animal species are created. Yumash End-7
Anat’aa Start-9 -2Mp: Contribute to the creation of Beastfolk -2Mp(Gained from Domain Boost): The core and soul of the Beastfolk is fire. This makes them beings of indomable courage and will, as fire is hard to control. But in its natural state fire must also grow and spread. As such the Beastfolk must feed this internal fire through a metaphysical action, that differs from Beastfolk to beastfolk.Some may have to eat, some reading, some needing to experience an instance of fire physically and so on. Lastly every Beastfolk are given to a deep wanderlust. -1Mp: Give a select group of Beastfolk(Anat’aa’s chosen) protection against fire. Anat’aa End - 6
