AdorableSaucer

Divinus: The God RP, Mk. IV

Partners in Trade

Feat. @Zurajai

---

It was the first time Pepper got to join her father down to the docks. She’d usually be left back home to help mom and little Parfum manage the herbary, or she would be tending to Musky, their old baqualo cow. Today, however, was different, for she could finally join dad to the coast market to sell off their produce. She had saddled Musky with two large baskets, each filled to the brim with one of two types of herb. Their farm wasn’t large, but they did honest work for honest pay at the market, selling dried and fresh parsley and thyme to all who wished to buy. Although, today was different - they weren’t going to Fragrance this time, no; it was the docks!

“Hey, dad? Who’ll we meet at the docks?”

Her father, a small, field-savvy elf of eighty-four years by the name of Vinnigar, gave his chin a pensive rub. “Well, if we’re lucky, we’ll run into the Tama’Pele - they use a lot of parsley in their medicine against tooth aches, as well as a fair amount in a type of oil they put on their skin so it doesn’t get too dry in the sun.”

“Woah! Really? Will I get to meet one?”

Her father grinned. “Maybe, maybe.”

It took them one hour and twenty minutes from their herbary down to the coastal market, passing out through the Gates of Fragrance on the way, pulling Musky through the silent crowd of commuters from the outside forests bringing fruit and grains into the town to sell on the square before King Safron’s hut. Murmurs rumbled through the crowd occasionally, and Pepper marveled at the deafening sound of the town - in the distance, she heard unfamiliar ting-ting-tings. She tracked down the sound to somewhere beyond the river of flesh running in and out the gate and pointed.

“Dad, dad! What’s that light over there? The one with the weird noise?” She looked up and lost some of her enthusiasm, for she saw her father scowl at the flickering flame at the source of the sound.

“Those are whitesmiths, Pep. We don’t mingle with their sort.”

Pepper frowned. “Why’s that, daddy?”

“You hear that sound?”

Wooooossssh… Ting-ting-ting!

Pepper nodded.

“That sound’s way worse up close. We’re very far away right now, but up close, it’s way, way worse - so bad that it breaks the Great Peace.”

Pepper gasped. “What? But you’ve said you shouldn’t do that!”

Vinnigar nodded. “Yes, Pep, and it’s really important that you don’t. King Safron doesn’t like scheming little nelflings who make a ruckus, y’know.” He ruffled her hair. “Okay?”

Pepper giggled. “Yeah, okay.”

---

An hour later, they were at the coast. The market was small today: Rosey the buffalo hunter was there like always, selling her pemmican, suet and buffalo jerky, and Cumine the perfumer stood beckoning customers with small, uncorked flasks of oozing smells. There were also numerous akua of the Tama’Pele, selling stockfish, fresh fish, seaweed and many other bounties of the ocean. The market was terribly noisy and smelly in spite of its size, though - moreso than the Gates of Fragrance commuters could even hope to ever be. Vinnigar stuffed his hand into a skin pouch on his waist and pulled out a handful of raw cotton, handing it to Pepper. “Here.”

Pepper eyed the cotton curiously and gave it a sniff. It smelled a little musty. “What’s this for, daddy?” Vinnigar tapped on her shoulder to grab her attention. He pulled a handful of his own into two dots and stuffed them into his large ears. He gestured for Pepper to do the same. After giving the cotton a suspicious look, she did as instructed and put it in her ears. She looked up at her father and, for the first time, heard his dry, squeaky and untrained voice.

“These make the trip a little nicer on the ears. The Tama’Pele have a slightly different view on the Great Peace, see.”

“How so, daddy?”

“Well…” His sentence was interrupted by a loud call of an akua merchant selling clams and oysters from a basket she was carrying around. “... It’s different. Now help your old man get these baskets off ol’ Musky.”

“What?!” said Pepper back.

“I said--” The merchant once again shouted her wonderous offer of oysters and how amazing they were with a squeeze of fresh lemon. Vinnigar realised talking was out of the question and beckoned for Pepper to help him. Pepper quickened to action and soon, they had set up a blanket on the ground with samples of parsley and thyme, as well as some small samples of rosemary and sage, all poured out onto wicker plates. Vinnigar smirked down at Pepper and said, “Watch this, kid.” Pepper watched with bated breath as her father took a deep breath and, to her surprise, shouted, “Aroha, come one, come all! Vinnigar and daughter’ve brought fresh parsley and thyme for your remedies and cookeries!” He even clapped his hands, and even through the cotton, Pepper winced slightly at the offensive sound. There was almost something fascinating about breaking the laws like this - thank the gods that this was outside the Great Peace’ juristiction.

“Aroha, ruhe,” came the familiar voice of one of Vinnigar’s most frequent customers. Though they rarely met with one another, the pair had created quite a rapport between one another. The akua stepped forward, chest bare but for the straps from his fishing pack, while his bright blue, purple, and red-tinged scales shone in the light. Though he was clearly akuan by all accounts, it was obvious from his facial structure that his ancestors had been among the Night Elves taken beneath the sea.

“Good see you got da kolohe here, ah?” he said with a friendly smile crossing his visage, clearly lowering his voice intentionally after many dealings with his Night Elven kin while waving at the elven child, “I tell you, ruhe, you no know wha’ lolo kina guys you got coma down-down hiya, ruhe. Good havin’ truss’ with you down hiya, dats fo’ shoah. Nawh, what’cha got fo me an’ mine dis fine evenin’?”

The Akua nearly began perusing the wares out before catching himself, seemingly flabbergasted by a sudden realization! “Oh! Hooo, brah! Where mah manners? Likkle kolohe no know what kine she sayin’ an’ seeing. Best be calling me Uncle Taika, eh, likkle ruhe. Yo’ fadah an’ I go way-way back.”

With his honor appropriately sated, Taika seemed to move on with his focus. He tossed down his back from off his shoulders revealing all manner of ocean-borne goodies while simultaneously throwing a sidelong glance at everything Vinnigar had for trade. The Night Elf grinned, stood up and squeezed his hand.

“Aroha, Taika! You sure sound and smell lovely this morning. Come to grab some more parsley for old ma?” Pepper, meanwhile, sat on the carpet still and marvelled at what she could make out of Taika’s form and texture.

“Das’ right der on da money, ruhe, plusa few tings heya and dey. Nada mention how dem ruhe down watah-side real lolo fo’ land-weeds.”

Taika shoveled out a number of products from his woven sack, planting them down squarely in front of the Night Elf. Collected were a number of shelled molluscs, primarily large scallops, as well as a decent amount of pretty corals and other ocean bits. A few crabs came clacking out of the bag only for Taika to place a rock on top of each to keep them from scrabbling off. Content with his work, he turned back up towards Vinnigar.

“So, watcha thinkin’ heya on dis, ruhe? How much’a willin’ to part wit?”

“Hmm… I could part with two xhoich for two crabs and eight scallops. What do you say, ruhe?”

Taika seemed to bounce on the balls of his feet, a peculiar movement that many Akua often did when they were excited or pleased; in the water it seemed far more graceful. He grabbed up from his bag the correct amount of shellfish, having never been one to haggle with Vinnigar. Their trading relationship, after all, was built on a level of amicability and friendship that Taika had no interest in pressuring. Besides, it was just good business this way. With that he coiled up the collecting in a tight wrapped of seaweed twine and thumped it over towards the Night Elf.

“Aya, thata do it jus’ fine, ruhe; fill yo’ belly real good, eh? Fe’ mah little niece heya, I trow in one moa’ creb, real tasee’ n’ good fo’ yu’, yeh? Make you grow big n’ strong, like yo’ uncle Taika, eh, likkle kolohe ruhe.” Taika seemed to beam at the child, obviously taking to the Akuan concept of Uncle and Auntie very seriously. It was his job, after all, to treat the child right. What sort of uncle would he be if he didn’t give his ruhe’s kids free things, anyway? Satisfied, he bagged up his own goods and tossed them in his pack.

“Oh, whakawhetai, ruhe - whakawhetai,” thanked Vinnigar and handed the crustaceans and mollusks to little Pepper. “Peps, sweety, take the empty parsley sack, run over to the water and fill it up, would you? No, the other o-- yeah, that one.” The girl ran off through the market to fulfill her task. “So, ruhe, anything else you’d like? My wife just harvested the sage this morning - it’s fresh and would go wonderful with some fish, y’know.”

“Yeh, yeh, ruhe, whakawhetai, eh? Jus’ throw a little o’ dat sage thay into my beg an’ we’ll do it jus’ fine, call it even-hapa.”

Taika gladly took the sage and wrapped it up properly as well, making sure to not let it get wet just yet as he tightly bagged it. With that, he plopped the bundle into his knapsack and threw it back over his back. As always, Taika hit Vinnigar first on his surface runs to make sure the Night Elf had the best pick of his goods, but he still had more to trade. They bumped fists in traditional Akuan manner before Taika smacked Vinnigar on the shoulder in a friendly show of familiarity. Vinnigar returned the gesture.

“You got a good family up heah, ruhe. If you evah learn t’ hold yo’ breath long-long time, you come on down an’ have suppah with me an’ mine, eh? Till next time, ruhe; aroha!”

Vinnigar clicked his tongue twice in approval. “For sure, Taika - I’ll keep practicing for that time. Until next time; aroha!” With that, the two parted ways and Vinnigar turned his attention to his next customer.

Summary!

Two nelves head to the docks to sell herbs. They meet an Akua regular and exchange beautiful cultural traits. A fun little culture post.

Divinus: The God RP, Mk. IV

To Become a Druid

Part 1: Taken from Home

---

Kaal’zar’s eyes were overflowing with tears. Of course, that wasn’t uncommon for the kids her age who were taken from their parents by travelling druids. She had been curt in her request, the druid - knocked on the door of Kaal’zar’s house and said to her parents: “May the gods smile upon your blessed household. I am Cer Tess - the stars have guided us to your home in search of our new apprentice.” Few more words had been said before her parents had sent her off with her, as well as the three other equally sobbing children she already had collected. Kaal’zar didn’t understand why she had to leave, nor why her parents had been so quick to give her up. The morning had started off as any other - with Kaal’zar joining her older brother to tend the meagre corn patch her family owned. What happened?

She eyed a young boy next to her. He looked skinnier than even her, and about twice as filthy from travel. His breath was ragged and weak and Kaal’zar could understand why - it had been a while since their last break, and she hadn’t been walking for days like them. She shuffled a little closer as they walked. “H-hey. What’s your name?” she whispered. The look she received could have wilted flowers - a vocal response was far too much to ask. Kaal’zar turned discretely to look behind her - the other two children looked similar. With quicker steps, she reached Cer Tess leading the group and pulled at her robe. The druid stopped and turned around, looking first straight ahead before adjusting her view angle for children. “Yes, my daughter?”

Kaal’zar was only eight years old - she hadn’t had the chance to meet many druids yet. It thus stung a little when this complete stranger referred to her as her daughter. “You’re not my mommy,” she hissed back venomously. Cer Tess sighed.

“My child, it’s merely a form of address. What was your name again?” She knelt down, and the other children sat down to take a rest. The boy Kaal’zar had tried to talk to earlier kept a close eye on her every action.

“Kaal’zar,” she replied valiantly. The druid nodded.

“Do you know why you’ve been chosen?” she asked her. Kaal’zar grit her teeth.

“No! Why have I been chosen? Where’s mommy? Why did daddy and her just give me away? Where’s Kaal’bor?”

“All in due time, my child,” Cer Tess replied patiently. Her whole stance, voice and being indicated that she had done this more times than one could count. “You’re lucky - we’re close to our destination. All will be explained there.”

As she got up, Kaal’zar screamed, “No! I wanna know -now-! Where are we going?!” Some of the other children echoed the request, approaching the druid with impatient steps. Cer Tess sighed again.

“The stars guided us to you, our new apprentices - you have been chosen by the gods to become druids!”

The two children who hadn’t realised or heard this yet all gasped, more bepuzzled than relieved. One of them, a boy, raised his hands, looking a little more confused that the others. “B-but pa oh’ways said I was gon’ be a lumberjack like ‘iiiim!”

Cer Tess sighed. “The archdruid will be clearer in her explanation. She will answer your every question. Now come on.” As the lady began to walk, she found that Kaal’zar remained defiantly where she had stood. She sighed again, this one containing hints of a groan, and walked over. “What’s wrong, my child?”

“I’m not your child! I wanna go home! This isn’t fun!”

“My dear, your new home is just beyond the hill over there, now come on.”

“NOOOO! DON’T WANNAAA-uh? Urrrgh…” Kaal’zar dropped to the ground with a snore and rolled every so slightly down the slope before Cer Tess caught her and picked her up, carrying her in her arms as she returned to lead the group.

“That makes two this year… Kids these days...” The other children glared enviously at Kaal’zar being carried, but a one of them felt odd cases of déjà vu. “Will I be able to do that?” mumbled one of them as they went on.

The journey went on for another thirty to forty-five minutes, as the “hill” Cer Tess had described, turned out to be a little higher up than expected. On top was a large, grassy plateau, sporting a few tents and huts, even one made of stacked flat stones. The hamlet was humble in every sense of the word, with roughly ploughed patches of grain whisking on the plateau edges in the evening wind. At the centre of this small settlement, however, was a great, moss-grown dolmen, surrounded by white-robed humans and night elves. Next to the dolmen, specifically in its sunset shade, stood another group of four children. These were night elves, and their supervisor, a man of their own kind with thick locks of midnight hair, was handing out patches of moss for the children to put in their ears. The human children all cast sideways glances at the elves, who returned the gesture. While Kaal’zar still fumed over being taken from her home, the sight of these creatures momentarily pulled her attention from those thoughts. This was the first time Kaal’zar saw a night elf child, and only the second time she’d seen night elves at all - her father had once gotten in an argument with one of them during a stag hunt, but apart from that, she hadn’t seen any others. She approached and pulled at Cer Tess’ robe.

“Cer Tess? Why are those night elves here?”

“Why, they’re here for the same reason as you, my child - they’ve been chosen. Four elves, four humans - eight in all, as homage to the great gods.”

“But why? Why not just humans?”

“Or just elves?” came another remark.

Cer Tess pointed to the dolmen with her staff. “It’s to maintain a balance, see - nightkind and daykind haven’t always gotten along around here, so in order to ensure peace is upheld, we druids must ensure that we can always function as a diplomatic bridge between all peoples of the mountain - both for those who live on it and in it. This dolmen, the Gudlach, is a symbol of this cooperation.”

The four children stared at the monument, trying to see what was so special about it. None of them could ask any more questions, however, before an old crone raised her tree branch staff and shook it scoldingly. “Cer Tess! You’re late!”

Cer Tess stopped and bowed as deeply as she could. “Forgive me, Volv Eaoir - we were delayed.”

“Dang right, you were! By a day, almost! As always, Cer Cayn came ahead of you - why can’t you be more like him, huh?” The other druids around the old crone sighed their peace, while the night elf overseeing the elven children looked to be discomforted by the praise. Cer Tess was silent for a moment.

“I will do my best, Volv Eaoir.”

“Pweh. Sure you will. Alright, children, gather around now! Come on, come on, we haven’t got all evening.” While Cer Tess brought the human children over, Cer Cayn translated the message into what Kaal’zar could only presume was some kind of elvish. It had a wide selection of aspirated consonants, lots of hissing and only three vowels, from what she could hear. There was a very distinct lack of unaspirated consonants, though, save for the occasional d and g. The night elf had a funny voice, though, Kaal’zar thought - squeaky and weird. It was as if he had the voice of a baby. She couldn’t help but giggle.

The old crone cleared her throat with thunderous gargling, silencing the humans and shocking the elves. One of the nelflings started whimpering and begged whisperously for support from Cer Cayn. “Welcome, all, to Godlach, the centre of druidism here in Laychsomun. This is where you’ll be staying for the next sixteen years.” Protests among the human children, and the nelflings as soon as the message was translated, were immediately crushed by the old crone’s draconic glare. “You will all be assigned to a mentor, and they will be with you for the first ten years. You will also get to know your peers - both daykind and nightkind - and you will learn each other’s strengths, weaknesses, songs and truths.”

“Sach-ak hsii k’ee-ar’loch k’ho?!” squeaked one of the nelflings, seemingly outraged. Volv Eaoir sneered at the remark.

“You will learn to love and appreciate each other in time. From now on, your only difference is that your schedules will be divided into day and night - apart from that, you are druids. Not nelflings and children - druids. Is that clear?” The nelfling who had spoken up looked away. The old crone approached and lowered herself to his level. “Cha-ee k’ho?” The nelfling nodded facing the ground. The old crone scoffed and returned to her spot under the dolmen.

The lumberjack’s son raised his hand - Kaal’zar blinked at him. Volv Eaoir groaned. “I don’t recall saying any of you could ask questions…”

“Please, ma’am, it’s--”

“-Volv- Eaoir to you, mouse,” the old crone spat back and the boy and the other children all shrank by a head. With teary eyes, the boy repeated:

“S-sorry, Volv Eaoir, didn’t mean te…”

“Didn’t mean to what?!” the old crone continued. One of her colleagues placed a hand on her shoulder. “Volv Eaoir, please, he’s only--”

“I don’t care what he’s onlying! Druids don’t back down when met with resistance! How’ll boys like him stop the outbreak of clan feuds and tribal war if he cannot handle a simple old lady?!” She had to be held back by her colleagues as she tried to run at the boy, staff waving from side to side.

Cer Tess tried her best to shut out the chaos and kneeled next to the boy, who had fallen to his knees to cry. Kaal’zar, meanwhile, observed the nelflings grimacing and sneering at the loudness of the humans. “It’s okay, my son, it’s okay,” Cer Tess whispered to him and took him in an embrace. The boy, though initially reluctant, accepted her slowly, and the druid whispered to him, “There, there… What did you want to ask? I can ask it for you, if you’d like.”

“I-I-I jusht… Sniff! … I jusht wanted to ask when we guh-get those super powers… Oo-hoo…”

Cer Tess pecked a kiss on the top of his head. “Alright, let me ask for you.” She turned to Volv Eaoir while still holding the boy and asked. The old crone, who had just calmed down from her tantrum, scoffed with the pierce of an arrow.

“Alright, -one- question more before the rest of the initiation; this was coming up next anyway… Impatient brats… Listen carefully - and if any of you start something anew for this, you won’t get dinner for a week!” Motivation properly shattered, the children merely looked to the ground as a response. Volv Eaoir nodded her approval. “Know this - we will not spend hours and maybe even days in prayer to call forth Hir just to empower gullible little snifflings. No, no. You’ll have to -earn- it!” She pointed her staff at the sky. “When your training has reached its tenth year, and you are well-versed in the gospels of the Eight, the Worldsong of Mich-all, the geography of this land and the stories of the thousand peoples that inhabit it…” She leaned in, eyes narrow, serpentine slips. “... Only then will you be given your power.”

The plateau was silent, except for some crickets. After she felt the blanket of hopelessness had packed itself tightly enough around the initiates, Volv Eaoir tapped the butt of her staff against the mountainous ground underneath the dolmen. “Now, form a line, all, and you’ll be given your new names. Learn them well and forget your old ones - no one will remember you by them anymore.”

Kaal’zar raised her hand. The old crone drew a long, sharp breath. “... What?”

“Will we ever get to see mommy and daddy again?”

The old crone seemed to glare at Cer Tess as though she hoped she would catch fire. “... We are your family now. Starting tomorrow, you will learn this. Now form a line!” Kaal’zar and many of her peers knew not how to even process this concept, so they didn’t react much as they were lined up before the old crone. While the first child, a nelfling girl to be exact, as well as everyone else, half expected the old crone to name her ‘Garbage’ and toss her aside. However, Volv Eaoir sat down and began to drone a song that seemed to go on forever. Meanwhile, one of her companions who had held her back earlier turned to the stars, wagging his staff from side to side; another knelt down to the ground and placed her palms against it as she started to sing along with the old crone; a third stared into a puddle by the westmost foot of the dolmen - stared hard, too, as though he saw the secrets of the universe on the other side; a forth was sat tossing fish bones in a bowl; and finally, a fifth was running between the eastern edge and western edge of the plateau, as though chasing the setting sun and greeting the rising moon. Cer Tess and Cer Cayn gently pushed the first nelfling up to the crone, and she stood there shivering before the woman’s blind, nefarious glare.

“Fina,” was all she said.

“Sok?” replied the nelfling bepuzzled. The crone growled and Cer Cayn gently pulled her aside and whispered loudly through the moss her ears: “Hso ‘Fina’ chol’loch.” Before the nelfling could complain about her new name, she was pulled aside to make way for the next in line, the boy Kaal’zar had tried to speak to on the road.

“Gion,” said the crone through her song. The boy nodded and stepped aside. Next up was Kaal’zar, rubbing her hands together nervously.

“I don’t wanna--”

“Pia.”

Pia blinked. No, this wasn’t right. She was Kaal’zar! Daughter of Kaal’terk and Prol’zar, sister of Kaal’bor. She built up her protest, but Cer Tess pulled her aside with a knowing expression on her face. Pia felt the tears come back. It wasn’t fair, it wasn’t--

“Call.”

Pia looked over. Call was a tall nelfling, built well for one of their age. He had no doubt come from a hunter family. He didn’t seem particularly pleased with the arrangement, either, and stomped off to join the rest of the named.

“Tolk.” The lumberjack’s son.

“Chass.” A crying nelfling girl.

“Logo.” A pale, sickly-looking human girl.

“Iro.” A skinny nelfling, likely the youngest in a family of poor farmers.

The old crone finally opened her eyes again. Her companions came panting back to the dolmen, especially the runner. The children looked uncomfortably at one another and Volv Eaoir spoke, “You have been named in the presence of the Eight, as well as all the spirits of land, sea and sky. You will from now on only use these names - your old ones are forfeit, and to use them is considered a grave transgression of the rules atop Godlach. Starting tomorrow, you will begin your lessons.” She nodded. “Welcome, all, to your new life.”

Summary!

Kaal’zar the human kid on the hilltops of Hreelcii is given to the druids to become a druid. She don’t wanna. Her guide, Cer Tess, tries to say that she gotta. She still don’t wanna, so Tess puts her to sleep. They go to the toppest hill, to a dolmen called Godlach. Here, they meet Bitch the Rapper, who berates them for not being perfect druids out the door. This bitch, better known as Volv Eaoir, then proceeds to name the kids. They are named as follows and then starts the semester of My Druid Academia.

Apprentice Names and Summaries

• Pia: The PoV character in this post. 8 year old human girl who misses her family dearly.
• Fina: Nelfling (night elf child) who wasn’t happy with her name. 22 years of age (8 human years, roughly).
• Gion: Human boy tired of life. 8 years old.
• Call: Tall handsome nelfling. 23 years old.
• Tolk: Lumberjack’s son and has a hard time reading the room. 7 years old.
• Chass: Crying nelfling. 20 years old.
• Logo: Sickly human girl. 8 years old.
• Iro: Skinny nelfling from a poor farmer family. 22 years old.

Divinus: The God RP, Mk. IV

The Founding of Ha-Dûna

Fourteen years before the burning of Thyma, somewhere west in the Boreal Highlands.

Kaer Mirh rubbed his eyes intensely, as if trying to squeeze the exhaustion out of them. He hated watching the goats at night - not because he wasn’t fond of goats; in fact, he found them to be wonderful companions, giving wool, milk and, eventually, meat in exchange for protection and permission to nibble at the grass and hay. No, Kaer Mirh’s qualm was that watching the goats at night meant he wasn’t asleep, and he loathed the thought of disappointing the moon by not being asleep.

Of course, it was only fair that he’d watch them. His brother Hama had kept watch all day, after all, and he couldn’t very well ask his pregnant wife Tegan, who had been busy tending to their two daughters. He supposed he could’ve called in a favour from one of the six other families travelling with them, but they all had their own tasks to tend to, and that wouldn’t be solving the problem either way, since, in the end, someone would have to stay up during the night to watch the goats. At least he wasn’t without conversation partners, though…

A goat bleated a song to the grass, thanking it for a wonderful meal, while another was singing her kid a lullaby. The stones, including the one Kaer Mirh sat upon, all droned along with harmonically layered bass and baritone. In the distance, some owls tried their best to outperform their song. Tamed boreal stags droned a sombre blues about the qualms of being a pack animal. A beetle squeaked a high-pitched tune praising the flavour of goat dung. Kaer Mirh considered what it must be like to fall asleep without this constant flux of music buzzing in the background - he hadn’t know the sensation for many decades, and by now, he supposed a night without hearing the lovesong of the flora to the rain and morning dew would be a terrifying night indeed.

He yawned, waking up a nearby goat kid, which eyeballed him sourly. He rose up from his stone and did his round again, making certain all fifteen goats were present. A rush of wind brought the scent of salt and sea to his nostrils - he hadn’t been this far west before, and this smell was unfamiliar. He hadn’t smelt its likeness for decades, at least. He started counting, groggy eyes following an equally lazy finger pointing out the goats among the rocks atop the hill he stood.

Fourteen.

The dissonance in expectation fueled some quickness into his mind again and waking eyes jumped from goat to goat once more, verifying what they had just seen.

Fourteen again.

He sucked in a breath through the nose and sighed. They hadn’t had a single runaway goat for a week - of course there had to be one when it was finally his shift. Well, he could either spend all night looking for it… Or…

Been away for long, kid;
Momma miss ye so, kid;
Why won’t you come home, kid?
Home to mommy’s herd.

He stopped to listen. Some of the other goats woke up and sang to him:

Farseer, farseer, farseer kind -
Have we left a kid behind?

Kaer Mirh spun around and raised his hands in a calming manner.

Be not worried, goats of mine,
For I assure you: All is fine.
‘Left behind’ are words with strength;
He’s likely only skipped a length.
A blink or two and I’ll be back,
Regain whatever rest you lack.

With that, the goats slowly went back to sleep one by one. Kaer Mirh sighed his relief and continued down from the hilltop. He passed by some tents belonging to one of the other families travelling with him and then arrived at the border of a great forest. He looked over his shoulder at the tents and took a deep breath:

Little goat kid, are you here?
It’s your friend, the kind farseer -
I’ve come to bring you home to mom;
It’s past your bedtime, now come on.

Then, a faint, squeaking song replied:

Farseer kind, I’m over here!
I know I should be mother near,
But here I found this fancy stone -
I had to see it, ev’n alone!

Kaer Mirh took a deep breath and sighed. Then he entered into the woods, the trees humming a sleepy plea for them to quiet down. Advance was slow, as the druid had to tap around the ground with his staff to bypass the zig-zagging pattern of roots and rocks. An owl hooted curiously at him, and a porcupine spat curses from below as Kaer Mirh’s bark-shoed foot nearly stepped on it. The druid pondered for a moment whether to plead Gibbou for better eyes in the night, but he was already overstepping his welcome by walking around when he should be asleep. Last thing he should do would be to come over as insolent and ungrateful - especially on the road like this.

The forest was thickening and the trees grew taller. The scent of the sea, which by now grew rancid with rotting seaweed, was offensive to the nose. It was an aspect of Claroon, however, and thus had to be respected and loved. When he looked up through the canopy, he saw the moon’s wink grow clearer and clearer the deeper into the woods he came. Stepping over a few more roots, the stars peeked through, too, blinking and twinkling in a dance around the bright crescent moon.

You’re close now, farseer - I can hear!
Come now, come now, you must see!
This rock is godly essence near -
The Worldsong says just so to me!

Kaer Mirh stopped to listen. The thousand voices of trees, stones, stars and animals echoed the kid’s statement. They sang:

A stone a thousand ages old;
A wall of trees like World Tree mold;
A spot to gaze ‘pon every star;
The spray of oceans, never far;
Reflective puddles ‘round the stone,
The rose and white of moons do hone;
The Worldsong here is never done,
For here shines best the light of Sun.

As the verse came to a close, the spirits celebrated, and Kaer Mirh stepped into the clearing. He had seen the World Tree once, long, long ago - the trees weren’t even close to its height. Still, however, they were incredibly tall, taller than any tree he had ever seen in the highlands. Yet still, the stars and moon shone perfectly through the treetops - the whole night sky was visible above the clearing. Nearby, where he could see the foliage wasn’t as thick as the rest of the wall, he could hear the laps of the ocean licking at the beach not even two hundred paces away. Then, in the centre of the clearing, elevated on a slight rise and surrounded by spots of otherworldly clear water, was a large, sharp rock that arced towards the sky, upon which sat the goat kid, admiring the sky. Kaer Mirh approached, making certain not to step in any of the puddles along the way. He climbed onto the rock and sat himself down by the kid to join in on the stargazing. The kid bleated happily and drummed its cloven feet on the stone in excitement with a series of tak-tak-taks.

See, farseer - behold up high:
The finest plot of Galbar sky!

Certainly is, oh little goat.
From tallest tree to smallest mote,
All sights here are just divine!
Gods’ blessings, goat kid, what a find!

Kaer Mirh jumped to his feet, nearby tumbling forward as he hopped off the rock. He managed to skip over one of the tiny pools, but the hop finally made him lose his balance and roll down the small hill until his back crashed into a tree trunk. The kid skipped expertly down from the rock and hopped over, singing anxiously:

Farseer, farseer, are you alright?!
A fall like that, break bones, just might!

But Kaer Mirh only cackled, maniacally almost, waving his arms and legs around in the air as he tried to get back on his feet. Above, the moon was waning as the sun began to blink over the distant horizon. The druid finally regained his footing, kicking up mud and grass as his legs propelled him into a sprint back through the woods. The goat kid followed faithfully, and the songs of the woods followed the action with baited breath:

What now, what now?
The druid has run off!
With speed, his prow
T’wards camp just did blastoff!
Has he, this man,
Received a holy sign?
Perhaps this land
Has just become a shrine?

It took merely an hour for Kaer Mirh to return to camp, where the fourteen goats still laid peacefully, albeit now began to awaken from the ruckus. The kid bleated for its mother, who bleated back in a distracted manner as she eyed the druid run in full sprint from tent to tent, shouting for all to wake up. The kid hopped over to its mother and the two gently rammed heads in greeting. Eyeing the panting druid, the mother goat asked:

Pray tell, advent’rous son of mine -
Has this druid seen a sign?
He’s skipping ‘round like Creit the Ram
Waking every human, stag and lamb!

The kid skipped up and down in its excitement:

Mother dear, it’s quite the tale!
See, I heard the Worldsong’s hail,
And followed it to forests deep
Where stones of ages past did sleep.
I may be ‘llowing thoughts to run,
But I think our months-long journey’s done.

In the centre of the camp, groggy humans who had barely had time to put their clothes back on, rubbed their eyes as one. Morning mugs that believed they should’ve had at least an hour more of shut-eye affixed skeptical, even annoyed stares at Kaer Mirh, who was sporting a wicked mad grin in spite of his absolutely filthy, once-white robes. Being among his closest, his brother Hama stepped forth and spoke, “Mirh, what has you so worked up? We almost thought we were under attack when you came running, but we see neither any bandits nor bears to speak of. What is this about?”

“I have found it, my kinsmen!” He gestured to the surrounding highlands, elevations and flats of grass and stone, save for the forest behind him, appearing like an oasis in a desert. The coast below reddened in the light of dawn, and distant herds of wild highland deer skipped after their leading stag. Cool winds blew in from the north and made the children huddle closer to their mothers. “This will be our new home,” declared the druid.

The people looked around, some looking surprised, some skeptical; some satisfied, some outraged. “What’re we supposed to live off here? We know nothing of this place!” came a shout from the crowd. It wasn’t his own kin, but one of the other families.

“You said we were stopping here to rest before we continue!” came another shout. Kaer Mirh waved his hands calmingly.

“We wanted to travel west to escape Ketrefa’s expansion. We have travelled as far west as west goes - if we go further now, we will enter a land so different from what we know that we will likely be consumed by it.” He gestured to the surroudings again. “We are already almost a year’s journey from the Walled City. We are as safe here as we’ll ever be, once we get to know the lay of the land.” He pointed at the one who had shouted first. “Dairl, you and your clan used to work great fields out east, is that correct?”

Dairl, a man who could in every way be described as broad, was taken aback as he was pointed at. “W-well, yes, of course! We were gaardskarls for generations before those slavers burnt everything we had and took my cousin’s family! What about it?”

Kaer Mirh beckoned him up to the rise he stood on. Dairl followed, and as did the rest of the crowd, curious to see. Kaer Mirh pointed along the grasslain slope running down from the rise until it reached the sandy coast. It stretched as far as the eyes could see, containing both flatlands and highlands. The druid turned back to Dairl. “Could you and your kin work this soil, you think?”

The farmer’s temper subsided and he brought a ponderous hand to his brownbearded chin. “... Well… The slopes will be hard - it’s tough work to plow and sow in such stoney ground. The lowlands will be easier, though.”

“Can you do it?”

Dairl shot Kaer Mirh a glare. “What, you doubt the ability of a gaardskarl?! You better watch your tongue, or I’ll--”

“You’ll do what, exactly?” came a sharp snap from Hama behind Kaer Mirh, hand resting faithfully on his stone adze. Dairl’s sons saw the gesture and reached for their own tools, but Kaer Mirh raised his hands to them both.

“I will not have animosity between us when we’re -this- close to finding a new home! Dairl, forgive me - I didn’t mean for it to come across that way. What I meant was whether you and your kin would be willing do work this land if we are to settle here.”

Dairl scoffed and looked back over the land. Glares of challenge were still being exchanged between Dairl’s sons and Hama, who was now being backed up by his and Kaer Mirh’s cousins. As tensions began to spark, Dairl stuck out his hand in Kaer Mirh’s direction.

“We’re not doing it for you. We’ll turn this land into a garden to prove, once and for all, that we gaardskarls cannot be outmatched.”

Kaer Mirh smirked and raised a brow as he squeezed the hand. “I’ll be looking forward to it.”

Dairl rolled his eyes and rumbled back down to his camp along with his kinsmen. Kaer Mirh felt a prick on his shoulder and turned to see Tegan, his wife, belly protruding slightly underneath her humble leather clothes. She offered him a worried expression, now clearly visible under the rising sun, and spoke, “Mirh, I’m certain this land is as good as any other, but… -Why- exactly here? You know what happened to Ragsam and his family, right? When they ventured south? We haven’t heard from them since. What if…” She paused. “What if we’re too close to the Prairie?”

Kaer Mirh shook his head and put a hand on her shoulder. “It must be here, my love. There is no other choice. The Song sang thusly.”

Tegan sighed. “Mirh, you know I love you and trust you in everything, but… None of us can hear it. None of us can hear this song you keep telling us about it. Are you sure you’re not…”

The druid placed a finger over her lips, inciting a confused blink from her. “I’m not,” he said curtly and smiled weakly. “Trust me.”

Tegan didn’t smile back, but pressed her lips together in a somewhat worried frown. “I do.”

“Good,” said the druid. “Franser, could you come here a bit?” Kaer Mirh continued over to a different man whose trade was builder and started discussing acquisition of building materials. Tegan sighed again and caressed her belly moreso to soothe herself than the baby inside. His judgment hadn’t been wrong before, but it was never easy just accepting the existence of this mysterious song, no matter how many times he tried to explain it. She looked over at one of the goats, which looked back with its odd, flat-pupiled eyes. Another one behind it bleated loudly.

No, these creatures definitely couldn’t sing.

---

A year passed, and the settlement had grown from a population of thirty-three to eighty-one. During the four month, all forty membres of the Circle of the Long Stride had arrived to behold the Dûna, the moot stone, guided to it by a blinking star that had shone brighter than all for the duration of a moon cycle. All the druids who had arrived agreed: The Dûna was a holy place, and it would serve as their meeting stone for all eternity. The growing settlement created work for those of neighbouring villages who had nothing to inherit, and bonds of allegiance formed between Ha-Dûna and its neighbours, as well as sparks of rivalry. Language barriers were hard to breach, but trade and favours spoke a thousand words. The druids of the Circle of the Long Stride decided the first year that the Dûna and Ha-Dûna by extension should serve as the centre of their circle, and should strive to be a core hub of druidism in the highlands. Whenever they would go out to other villages to spread the word of the gods and tend to the inhabitants’ qualms, they would also make sure to spread the message that Ha-Dûna was a haven for druids and those devoted to the gods, and would accept all who would be willing to work in the name of divinity. After that, the meeting adjourned, and the druids once more travelled out into the highlands to perform their tasks, eager to see their capital grow into a jewel the gods could be proud of.

A bastion to the glory of Fìrinn, Claroon, Gibbou, Reyia, Macsal, Seeros, Boris and the World Tree.

---

SummaREEEE!

Kaer Mirh and about 30 others are travelling from eastern BH to avoid Ketrefa. Mirh sits out watching the goats when a goat kid runs off. He tries to find it with spiritsinging, but it says it’s found something dope. Mirh follows it into the centre of the woods and finds the Dûna, a normal rock that just so happens to be in a very, very elementally significant spot (see Prestigios for summary). Mirh’s psyched af, runs back to his people and says, “yo, we gotta settle here”. After some bickering, they do. Ha-Dûna is now the druid capital of North Toraan.

Prestigios!

Circle of the Long Stride: 10.
18k+ characters = +5 prestigios.
-5: Found a settlement - Ha-Dûna, founded next to the Dûna, the moot stone, a pointed boulder in a forest clearing close by the sea, where the tree cover surrounding the clearing leaves the sun, the moons and the stars in perfect view. There are also reflective puddles around the stone, and the area is a hub of spiritsinging things. Also merely a month’s travel away from the Sunlit Temple.
-8: Cause a major cultural shift - Druid moots and the culture of moot grounds: Druids (on Northern Toraan for now), whether part of the Circle of the Long Stride or not, will find themselves non-consecrated holy sites (typically places of great significance to one or more of the Eight) where they will meet once a year to discuss the past year and plan the following year, a so-called moot. OOCly, this also serves as the time and area where druidic circles can spent prestige. Moot grounds also serve as recruitment grounds and schools for new druids if no other academic institution is present in the area.

End: 2 prestigios.

Divinus: The God RP, Mk. IV

Gibbou

---

Gibbou strolled triumphantly across the surface of her moon, looking giddily down at the planet below. As she had foreseen, the appearance of vampires had immensely reduced the number of people who killed their superiors and family for ambition. Her plan had succeeded. To celebrate, she conjured forth a fancy glass with a blue drink, which immediately froze. With a pout, she thawed it again and drank it as quickly as she could before it froze, gagging at the overwhelming presence of blue curaçao. A short moment passed, and then she made herself another.

Before long, the goddess was skipping across the moon, giggly, giddy and about as wasted as the satellite's surface. Maybe she finally had done it? The Circles, the vampires… Maybe the tides were turning for little Gibbou? Maybe Neiya’s poisonous words could finally leave her - Cadien’s statue, finally disappear? Maybe… Maybe she could finally be as good and amazing as her beloved sister?

A distant whisper made her lose her balance and faceplant into the rocky soil. She groggily forced herself back up, her sloppy hands somehow not managing to grab the ground properly. With a push that sent her five metres into the not-air, she managed to coerce her clumsy legs into a sitting stance and her eyes into a resemblance of a focused stare. She dove deep, deep inside her rum-sozzled brain, pulling forth the faint flicker of a voice that had tried to contact her. It was a prayer - a small child whose language sounded Lapite. Gibbou pulled at her nose and tried to make herself somewhat presentable before listening in once again. With messy hair, restless feet and a head that just couldn’t seem to stay still, she focused.

“Dear Yuemu...” The voice was crying, and Gibbou’s emotional centre and attention span were battling gruesome battle in the deep, unforgiving swamp that was her inebriated mind. “... A… A monster has been attacking us in the night. More and more people are disappearing, and, and, and… I’m so scared. I can’t sleep even if I want to. What if it gets us like the others? What, what if I’m next?”

This puzzled Gibbou, or at least she looked puzzled. Squinting eyes and pursed lips overtook her expression, and the goddess ran a hand over her chin. ”Mhm, mhm… I, uh-duh… I, I shee,” she mumbled to none in particular, and hopefully not to the frightened little girl back on Galbar. After what felt like an eternity, her senses conjured forth a proper response. ”Yuh-your mind ish unwell, my ssshild. Here, lemme help you.”

With a clumsy wave of her hand, she cast something (she wasn’t quite sure herself, even), and the sound of a slow sigh came from the other end. She summoned forth a moon dust mirage of the other side and saw the child soundly asleep next to her parents, who also appeared to be resting peacefully. When she expanded the mirage, she saw that that whole part of the warren that the child lived in had suddenly fallen into a deep, peaceful sleep - even the guards. Satisfied, she made herself another drink and blew the image away, just as a shadowed figured entered the view from a corner. After downing her drink, her eyes suddenly picked up a very peculiar fish east of Toraan. She focused her hazy eyes, and her heart skipping four beats. Immediately, she poured all her might into establishing a mental link with this individual, just as it was washing ashore on the Kylsar Isles.

”Hic! … Hey...”

”No,” answered Twilight on the other side, busily pulling seaweed out of his sandals.

”Boo, you suck,” moaned Gibbou disapprovingly. ”Enter--... Urrp… Entertain me.”

Twilight sighed. ”Isn’t part of being a goddess that you can do anything? Gibbou shrunk. ”Including making a playmate?”

”Nnnnnnno!” exclaimed Gibbou and nearly rolled backwards onto her back. Twilight winced at the background noise as the moon goddess got back up. ”I wan’ ssshat wishoo.”

Twilight placed a seawater-smelling palm in his face. ”Look, Gibs, could you not do this right now? I mean, I just made landfall, I’m tired--

”Ooo! Whashu, urp, doon? Tsell me, cuh-maaawn!” A moment passed. ”C’MAAAAAWN!

Twilight looked up and sighed from the bottom of his lungs. ”Y’know… Being doing stuff?”

”Kinda staff?”

”Stuff! Like, uhm… I met this troll-guy. He was… Really nice, actually. Kinda miss him. Tidemand was his name. Yeah… Him and Oscar sure are some sweet guys.” There was silence, during which Twilight hesitated to test whether the link was still open. Eventually, however, he said, ”Gibbou?”.

”MY TROLLSH AIN’T ALL BAAAAAAAD!” came a long, tearful scream followed by a sulking, guttural ”uuuuuuuuuuu-huuu-huuu!” Twilight felt a compulsive need to pat her politely on the back, but said nothing until the moon goddess eventually continued, ”Oo-hoo… Shanksh, Twi, hic! It helpsh that--... Ugh… That you tsell me theesh shings…”

”You’re-... Ahem, you’re welcome, Gibs. For a while, there was only sobbing and sulking on the other side. However, suddenly, something rustled in the bushes nearby. Twilight’s eyes focused on the spot with lightning quick accuracy, and he knelt down slight. ”Gibbou, listen, I know you’re sad, but--”

”You’re shad!” she accused back.

”Look, I can’t do this right now, Gibs, I can’t hear myself think with all your--” Then, out of the bushes came two cloaked and masked humanoids, each armed with bone spears. Immediately, one of them lunged at Twilight and shouted, “Bad luck, kid! Fork over the belongings and run, or we’ll take ‘em and leave you to rot in the swamp!” The avatar dodged away, only for another spear to appear from behind him and graze his hip as not even his godlike reflexes could properly avoid it. ”Crap, bandits!”

”Whashat?” Gibbou droned.

”Gibs, would, would you just shut up for a-- phew! -- for a moment?!” Twilight cursed back as he narrowly ducked out of the way of another spear attack, barely dancing away from yet another one. The three tried constantly to surround him, and while the avatar made it hard, three deftly stabbing spears was no easy foe to avoid. There came a sniff from the other side.

”You’re alwaysh sho mean to meeee…”

”I swear, if you start crying again-- hup!”

“Who’re you talking to, boy?! We’re the only ones here! Yargh!” One of the bandits jumped forward, adding some extra length to his thrust. The blow grazed Twilight’s arm, ripping through the fabric of his shirt. Twilight grit his teeth.

”Gibbou, are you gonna help, by sunlight?!”

”Oh, I’m sh-shorry! I thought you werr part godz! Can’t you, like, mayke stuff or shomshin’?” The pout on Gibbou’s face was audible.

”I can’t-- ugh! -- focus like this! Help me!”

There came a long sigh. ”Uuuugh! Fiiiiine!” There came a flash in the sky above, breaking through the clouds and crashing into Twilight’s hand like a lightning bolt. The three assailants stopped in awe and confusion as the avatar suddenly held a scabbarded blade, curved ever so slightly backwards to resemble somewhat a softer curve of the moon. Twilight blinked, and then a widening grin formed on his lips. The assailants blinked amongst themselves (not that that was possible to see through their masks) and slowly began to back off. Twilight’s grin turned to a malicious smirk as he unsheathed the sword, its blade a cold, white shade of steel; its edge, an ashen sheen that stood out in the night’s darkness. He weighed the sword in his hand, testing its balance.

”Now… -This- is a weapon. Thanks, Gibbou. At least you can do something right.”

”At leash you can do something right, bleh, bleh, bleh…” The bandits staggered backwards as Twilight approached.

”You thought you could pounce on me so easily? Heh… Well…” The bandits all tripped backwards and huddled together in sheer terror. Twilight snickered. ”You’ll be feeling it now… The wrath of myself, Twilight, and my trusty companion…” He paused to think of a name, looking upwards with a respectful nod. “... Tsukigami-no-Kokoro.”

From the other side of the mind-link, he heard Gibbou burst into laughter, which kind of ruined the moment for him, but at least the bandits couldn’t hear it. He approached the one who had taunted him to earlier and lifted the sword high above his head, the bandit’s companions crying for mercy for their boss. Twilight rolled his eyes. ”Mercy… Like the kind you wanted to show me?” He spat. ”Mercy’s too good for the likes of you.” Locking eyes with the leader, he said, ”... Tell the king of the underworld… Twilight sent ya.” Then he hacked his blade downwards.

DUNK!

“Ow!” shouted the leader and immediately brought his hands to the growing bump on his head. Twilight’s eyes widened in surprise and puzzlement, as did all the others’. Twilight immediately turned around and looked up to the sky. ”GIBBOU!”

”Hm? Wha?”

Twilight shook the sword around. ”What the hell is this?!”

”Why, it’sh the shword that you named Tsookeegahmee no--... Pfffahahahahaha! Ican’believeyounameditthaaat! Hahaha!”

Twilight tossed the sheath into the ground so hard it caused sand to splatter everyone around. Another audible pout. ”Hey, I made dat!”

”What the hell kinda sword -is- it, though?!”

”It can cut through anyshing when the moon shines on it! It’sh super-strong, y’know!”

”When the moon is out?! Gibbou - it’s OVERCAST!”

There was a long pause. Then Gibbou exploded into a snorting laughter once more. The bandits seized the opportunity to run and Twilight sat himself down in the sand with his face in his hands, suffering the taunting guffaw of his superior. ”Hoooo-hooo! Ican’tbreathe! I’mgonnapee!” came a few words wheezingly from the other side.

”Just leave me alone,” Twilight pleaded in embarrassment.

”Hehehehehehe, noway, thish is too good, oh, sister.” There was a long suction of breath, followed by an equally long side. ”Holy sunlight...”

”If my divine powers are good for anything, then please let them help me block you out of my head…”

”Oh, now you’re mean again, boo...” Gibbou moaned. ”Fine, I’m going… But not because you toldz me too! Hmph!” With that, the presence in his mind disappeared. Twilight sat there on the beach in shame, Tsukigami-no-Kokoro sheathed across his lap. He sat there, for a very long time.

Sumree

Gibs celebrates the, uh, SUCCess of her vampires by getting wasted to shit. She gets a prayer from a baby rabbit while rum-sozzled to kingdom fuck, asking her to help her sleep because some monstrous, definitely-not-vampire thing is roaming the warren. Gibbou, being drunk Gibbou now, grants her wish and puts her whole neighbourhood to sleep. She unlocks the respite port for this and celebrates with more drinks. She then drunk dials Twilight, who has just arrived in Kylsar. During their conversation, Twilight is attacked by Reshut bandits and asks Gibbou to help him. Gibbou makes him a legendary sword, which Twi names Naruto-Sasuke-no-omae-wa-mo-shinderu, causing Gibbou to burst out into a cackle. However, just as Twi’s about to kill the fuckers, he realises the blade is as blunt as a roll of weed. Turns out swords that can cut through anything in moonlight are useless when it’s overcast. The bandits run away unscathed (except for the leader who gets a bump on the head from the sword), and Twi sits on the beach to the mocked by drunk Gibs.

Em-Pee

Start 4MP/2DP
1DP - Bless (or possibly curse) some rabbits in a lower warren section of a Lapite warren to a very good night’s sleep. (5/5 for Respite port).
3MP - Snatch Respite port: Respite: Gibbou’s mastery of respite allows her to easier bless life with calmness and mental peace after traumatic experiences. While she cannot erase these memories, her blessings may instead help life cope with them, whether this is a terrible loss or a difficult childhood. The mental respite granted by Gibbou eases the mind to a state of tranquility, allowing the blessed to bypass emotions such as panic and anxiety for the duration of the blessing.

Respite isn’t permanent, however, and all must eventually rest again. The respite portfolio also grants power of rest in general, and can turn the strength gained from a 15 minute nap into what one would normally gain from sleeping through the night. However, respite doesn’t necessarily require sleep, and can be achieved simply by meditation or general rest.

3DP (discounted to 1DP with Moon portfolio): Create the legendary katana Tsukigami-no-Kokoro, blessed with the following title:

• Moonblade III: When the moon shines on the blade, it can cut through anything. Otherwise, it's blunt as a hammer.

End: 1MP/0DP

Divinus: The God RP, Mk. IV

Letters from the Duke of Zhou 1 - The Tale of Chu and Ba

---

To the respected duke of the Song warrens,

Allow me first to express my most gracious greeting to a fellow, worthy duke - many difficulties plague our lands and lives, so pleasures such as these are too few and too far in between. It has come to my attention that the lightfurs of the Lower Warrens under Your esteemed leadership have grown rowdy and rebellious of late, yet nothing your peacekeepers do seems to mend the situation. As such, our mutual friend, the venerable duke of Qin, made contact with me on your behalf so I may offer my counsel in this matter.

It is in times like these that I remember what happened in the warrens of Chu and Ba. As I’m certain you know, the warren of Chu once had a wealthy gentleman named Sima Wen, and he was beloved by all of Chu. Likewise, the warren of Ba had a virtuous huntress named Zeng Yun, and she, too, was beloved in all of Ba. The day then came when the warrens of Chu and Ba both fell into unrest, darkfurs and lightfurs, warrens high and low - all in a great rumble. So the lords of Chu sent word to Sima Wen, while the lords of Ba sent word to Zeng Yun. Sima Wen and Zeng Yun were both tasked with bringing peace to the Warrens, for theirs was great love and respect among the people; however, Sima Wen could only convince the high warrens to settle down, while Zeng Yun only calmed the low warrens. Thusly fell the great warrens of Chu and Ba into decline.

For you see, respected duke - the wealthy gentleman Sima Wen, while beloved in all the warrens shafts and tunnels, knew not the squalls and hardships of the lightfurs, and thus could not relate to them; likewise, while the virtuous huntress Zeng Yun was beloved in all the warren’s caves and holes, she knew not the rituals and customs of the darkfurs, and thus could not speak to them. The lesson we as scholar-gentlemen - as proper junzi - must take away from stories such as these, is that we cannot expect those of great fame and renown to simply bypass our societal customs. In order to reach out to our warrenmen - all of them - we cannot rely on status alone; a leader with titles and no charisma cannot even lead the bees to nectar.

My proposal to you, respected duke, is therefore to recall your peacekeepers - funnel instead your resources into understanding and learning from your lightfurs. Gain their trust, their respect, their love, but make certain that you do not lose the support of your darkfurs in the process. Do this, and the warrens of Song will no doubt last longer than any hare can live.

I wish you the best of luck in your endeavours, and may the gods forever grant you fortune.

With great respect,

Duke Kong Rui of Zhou.

SummaREE!

Kong Rui the rabbit duke offers advice to the duke of Song, telling him that if he can get to know his peasants better, they won’t rebel as badly.

Divinus: The God RP, Mk. IV

“No, no, no - you have to hold it in, my man. Come on.”

Twilight held his breath, the smoke burning like embers in his throat. Eventually, he couldn’t bear it anymore and coughed it back out. Oscar the thumbling laughed so hard he nearly fell off the flycap he sat on. “Oh, you’re such a sissy, Twi!”

”Easy for you to say! Your pipe’s so small!” replied the man coarse as he pounded his chest with his fist. The thumbling eyed its own pipe, fashioned from a tree splinter, then the long, curved, carven masterpiece which Twilight had seemingly conjured out of thin air. He gave a little shrug and repositioned himself on the flycap as he took another drag.

“I’d say they’re about proportional,” he conceded. Twilight smacked his lips to taste the smoke, bobbing his head from side to side to demonstrate his opinion.

”It’s decent, though. Where’d you say this pipeweed came from?” With a divine finger, he poked out a smouldering bit of grass and eyed it carefully. Oscar sucked thoughtfully on a tooth.

“Plucked it over by berry farmer Larson’s stead. He keeps a patch for when the nights get long and the kids get rowdy, y’know.” He gave the pipe a few smacking sucks and unleashed a plume of smoke the size of his head - or roughly the size of Twilight’s pinky nail.

”Y’don’t say… Any idea who made this?” Twilight mumbled and gave it a sniff in search of divine origin. It smelled, unsurprisingly, of smouldering grass. Oscar shrugged.

“Couldn’t say. Always been, from what I’ve heard.”

”That right…” Twilight mused and clapped his teeth passively over the mouthpiece of his long pipe. A snicker suddenly overtook him. ”Hope you didn’t snatch all of farmer Larson’s grass just for me, now.” Oscar waved a dismissive hand.

“I’m sure he’s got enough. Man smokes like a chimney, so he keeps a stash. Besides, I reckon he’d have no issue sharing with a kind-hearted vagabond. It’s not like we get a lot of strangers passing by.” He gave off a light-hearted chuckle. “Ain’t often people see our humble village for more than hollow stumps and mushrooms.”

Twilight sighed softly. ”Life here’s pretty peaceful, huh?” Oscar puffed out a series of tiny smoke rings that could’ve easily been mistaken for snowflakes defying gravity.

“By Saint Adrian, it’s downright idyllic,” he agreed, pulling the rim of his round straw hat down over his eyes to meet the setting sun. He tapped his tree splinter pipe on the cap of the flycap to dump out the ashes before he started squeezing in a new bowlful. Twilight, meanwhile, was getting used to the soft burn in his lungs, and though the effect of the plant was much too weak to affect him considerably, there was something comforting about a hobby like this. Something to share with others. A moment of silence followed, during which the only sounds where inhales, lip smacking and heavy exhales. Eventually, though, Oscar gave the horizon a squint and asked, “So, where you headin’ off to, anyway? Heard you’ve been talking with ol’ Dick about packing up.”

”Oh, y’know…” Twilight clicked his tongue. ”Got places to see, people to meet… World’s a lot bigger than the horizon, after all - and I’m planning on seeing it all.”

“Heh, is that right? You tall folk sure don’t let nothin’ stop ya, that’s for sure.” Oscar offered him a grin with his pipe firmly held between his jaws. Twilight returned the expression.

”I take it your kind’s not the adventuring sort?”

“Oh, now, quite the contrary, mister.” Oscar raised an objecting finger. “Thumblings are pretty well-traveled if I may say so.” Twilight snickered, but Oscar nodded still. “It’s true! Why, my uncle Roger over in Mossheap spent his youth hiking the continent around - in true Adriannic fashion, mind you! He was no quitter - no, siree. Didn’t lose his grip once, he didn’t. Whether it was elk or a pant leg, he held on like it was about life and death.”

”Your kind sure holds this ‘Saint Adrian’ in high regard, huh,” remarked Twilight with another suck of his pipe.

“How could we not? The man’s a legend. Stories say he rode the moon across the seas and all the way into history. Fought a fully grown askeladd with nothin’ but a pine needle, they say. Every Thumbling knows about that crazy sumbitch.” A plume of smoke punctuated his sentence.

Twilight blew his own plume through pursed lips. ”Rode the moon, huh…” He sucked a deep breath through the nose and knocked the ashes out of his pipe bowl into a nearby patch of swampy, moist moss. ”Adventure ain’t nothing for you, though, huh?”

“Nah. My uncle’s the exception in my family, I’ll be honest - sure, we’re mighty proud of him, but… Us Bumbledrums,” he sucked on a tooth, “we ain’t need nothin’ more than a full belly and a warm hut to come home to after a day in the berry bushes.”

”Yeah, I understand.” With that, Twilight deposited his pipe on the inside of his belt, which was a length of rope simply tied about his waist, clapped his hands over his knees and rose up, stretching his hands over his head. ”Well, I think it’s about time I got back on the road.”

Oscar pushed the rim of his hat upwards a little with the mouthpiece of his pipe to eye the horizon. “Y’sure you wanna be travelling at night, friend? It’s not like that spot you’ve been sleeping in’ll disappear any time soon.”

Twilight pressed his palms into his lower back and bent backwards. ”Oh, I wouldn’t worry too much about that. I feel more at home in the night than I do in the day, I’ll be honest. But hey, thanks for letting me stay as long as ya did. Hope I didn’t, uh, eat -all- the berries in your stock.” Once more, Oscar waved dismissively.

“Oh, sure, you might eat for ten thumblings, but it ain’t like we’re starving.” He took off his hat and turned to Twilight with a smile. “You’ll have a good one now, Twi. Don’t be a stranger if you pass by lil’ ol’ Marshstead, now. I’ll tell Lotty to make ya a houllin pie when you get back.”

”Heh, that’d be great, Oscar. You stay out of trouble now.”

“Likewise,” replied Oscar with a tip of his hat. Twilight returned the gesture with a nod and moved eastward through the marshes. He moved ceaselessly through the whole night, except to stop and eat some houllin berries he’d brought along with him. He took his time crossing the swamplands, taking in the sights, smells and textures of the bog with gusto. He hadn’t felt anything in his sleep, but the only truth he knew now was how great it felt to be awake. The coolness of the murky water, the harshness of the air’s scent, the heaps and dips of moss and muck - this place was alive. Twilight adopted a little frog one day, keeping it on his shoulder for a good hour before it skipped off and disappeared into a large puddle. The avatar hadn’t even been sad nor angry - life was blossoming here, even in such dull-looking wetlands. The world of the gods sure was magnificent - and now -he- had that same power.

One night, a certain song overruled the squelshes and squashes of his steps in the boggy terrain. Twilight found himself entranced by its tunes, and he had to investigate closer. The voice was deep and baritone, siren-like in its attractiveness. As Twilight drew closer, the melody was complemented by the rhythm of the ocean waves. The sea came into view across the marshland meadow, reflecting as it was in the moons’ light. There, by a small fire, Twilight saw a colossal shadow dancing beside it. Its every step shook the earth, but there was nothing menacing about it - if anything, it was beautiful.

As I went down to the ocean to pray,
Studyin’ about them good, ol’ ways ‘n who shall wear
That moonlit crown.
O love, show me the way.

Oooh, lovelies,
Let’s go down, let’s go down, c’mon down.
Oooh, lovelies,
Let’s go down, down to the ocean to pray.

As I went down to the ocean to pray,
Studyin’ about them good, ol’ ways ‘n who shall wear
That starry crown.
O love, show me the way.

Oooh, my wife,
Let’s go down, let’s go down, c’mon down.
Oooh, wifey,
Let’s go down, down to the ocean to pray.

As I went down to the ocean to pray...

Twilight was smitten. He had never heard such music before - literally. It was as though his every sense focused sucked on the creature’s every note. He couldn’t help but be drawn closer and closer - he had to know what manner of creature was making this music. His feet felt the transition from sticky moss to cool sand, and the creature’s tremors reverberated through his bones. There was a foul smell on the air, souring the experience somewhat - Twilight surmised it had to be the rotting seaweed on the beach. As he reached a distance of merely three metres from him, he let out a sigh and said, ”You have the most beautiful voice I’ve ever heard.

The dancing giant stopped and turned, revealing a hollow-eyed, sinister grin as though made by a terrible amalgam of fish and man. Its skin sagged as though it had once been melting off its face and stiffened midway, and its teeth were vile and crooked. With a grateful nod, it spoke, “Why, thanks a bunch, mate. That’s awful kind o’ you.”

Twilight felt his heart nearly stop from the sight and he tossed himself down in the sand, burying his face in between the dunes in an effort to forget what he had just seen. Into the ground he screamed, ”BY THE GODS, WHAT’S WRONG WITH YOUR FACE?!”

The giant blinked and patted its face. “Oh, scentin’ seawaves! ‘Ang on, mate, pardon that.” There came some rustling from behind Twilight and the avatar allowed himself to sneak a peek of what was happening. The giant was facing away, looking to be digging through a large pack until it found a circular, shadowed object, which it put on its face. “A’roight, should be good!” The giant turned back and sat down, its face now covered by a large, white mask with two eye-holes, as well as a smiling mouth drawn on it with charcoal. “Again, sorrey ‘bout that. Wuz singin’ to my wife ‘n, y’know, she likes me better withou’ the mask, if ye catch my drift.”

Twilight gulped and clutched his chest instinctively as he turned back to face the giant head on. The shock within him had yet to subside, but at least it wasn’t reinforced now by a second exposure to that… That face. He was certain it would’ve killed him. The giant looked expectantly at him. “Must say, you’re farin’ much better than other ‘umies I’ve run into wivvout the mask. Most, uhm… Well… Must keel roight on ova’, to be honest. Hurts me to the bone, it does, but gods demanded I look like this, ‘n… Y’know… S’long’s wifey is happy, so am I.”

Twilight conjured forth a lemon and contemplated squeezing it into his eyes. ”Who exactly demanded you look like this?” he replied sourly.

“Why, that’d be Lady Moon, of course,” the giant replied faithfully. “I’m a troll, after all.”

Twilight curled tightly his fists. That useless goddess!

“Not bitter about it, though!” added the troll, as thought it could sense what Twilight was thinking. The avatar blinked curiously at it and the troll nodded. “That’s roight. Oh, sure, every now ‘n then, it really isn’t pleasant to scare people to deaff, but you eventually learn to git aroun’ that, y’know?” He pointed to his mask. “Wearin’ this makes it pretty nice to interact wiff people, actually. Some’re nicer than ovva’s, of course - ‘umies tend to be pretty bitter against my kind. Not wivvout reason, of course - my kinsmen’ve done some mean fhings. Makes me curious, though - why ‘aven’t you run for the hills yet? ‘Umies usually do.”

”That so?” replied Twilight somewhat sarcastically. The troll didn’t react much, though. The man cupped his face in a propped up hand and sighed. ”Well, let’s just say I’m not like most other humans.”

The troll nodded sagely. “Yeah, that’s about roight. Seen many ‘umies fall over like you did, but very few get back up. Whot’s your secret? Might be nice to share with the rest of my kinsmen.”

Twilight frowned as he contemplated his reply. As he did so, he pulled out his pipe and patted some of the pipeweed he brought along for the journey into the bowl. “It’s, uh… It’s -this-!” He held up the pipe. “This, uh, grass keeps me calm and focused.” The troll leaned down and eyed it thoroughly.

“Ain’t that somefhin’... Where’d you get that?”

Twilight thumbed westward. “The grass is from the bog. The pipe, I made myself. I could show you how, if you’d like.”

The troll smiled even behind the mask. “Why, I’d be ‘appy to learn!”

And so, Twilight and the troll sat down together - Twilight with a knife and a small log; the troll with a flat boulder and a tree trunk - and got to whittling. They whittled together for a day or two, moving back and forth between the beach and the troll’s cave in the night and day respectively. They shared stories and jokes, and the troll, who Twilight learned had been honoured with the name Tidemand, explained to Twilight the nature of his kin and why he would spend every night singing for his wife to come back to him.

“See… Draug wives, they like the seas a bit better than us lads. They go swimming for long periods of the years, or they move way, far away down the beach. Only way to guide ‘em home is to sing to ‘em.”

”Has it worked?”

Tidemand’s gaze had lowered somewhat at this. “My wife’s gone for a long swim this year… I pray to the gods every day that all is well wiv’ ‘er.” This left Twilight with a clump in his chest.

After four days, their projects were completed: Twilight had carved himself a wholly new pipe, this time from scratch, and Tidemand had fashioned himself a similar craft, only that it was longer than Twilight was tall. The avatar had conjured forth some pipeweed, pretending he’d harvested it himself, and the two had spent the fifth night admiring the sea to the sound of smouldering grass and exhaled smoke. Tidemand had carved a small hole in his mask for the mouth piece to slip through. After days of conversation and banter, they sat in complete silence, enjoying each other’s company.

”Say, Tidemand?” Twilight suddenly mumbled.

“Hmm?”

”I, uh… I heard you singing to the seagulls earlier. I mean, you know I always love hearing you sing, but… Are you doing alright?”

The troll gave him a curious frown, then burst out into a guffaw. Twilight was a little taken aback. ”Woah, hey, I’m just asking!”

Tidemand sniffed and wiped a tear away from underneath his mask. “Oh, Twilight, forgive my laughin’, but… ‘Aven’t you ever ‘eard of the Worldsong?”

Twilight frowned. “The what-song? Is this a troll thing?”

Tidemand chuckled again. “No, friend, it’s the gift o’ Macsal to the world! I can’t say I’m an expert at it, but, well… It helps with keepin’ the gulls out of my food.” With that, he started rumbling in his baritone voice, a fantastic hum that seemed to calm the oceans and the winds. Twilight watched in awe as seemingly godly feats slowed down the natural forces as though they were sung a lullaby for. Then he heard it, ever so faintly, a million small voices singing back. He looked around searchingly and Tidemand nodded sagely.

“Ah, it’d seem you, too, have the gift of spiritsong.”

”The gift of what?”

“Of spiritsong! Macsal’s gift’a music to all fhings, from rocks te birds. Takes some time t’ learn how te sing back, but… I’ve found that listenin’ in on it really takes the sorrow out of bein’ alone on this beach in the night.”

Twilight eyed the sand ponderously as he took in the words, as well as the seemingly omnidirectional music coming from everything from the ground underneath him to the clouds above. It carried with it the emotions of everything - every part of Galbar, divine and mundane. It truly was a world song.

”Could you… Could you teach it to me, Tidemand?”

The troll sighed. “No, my good friend. That, I can’t.”

”Wait, why?”

He shrugged. “‘Cuz I ‘ave no idea how! It’s a miracle that you can even ‘ear it after such a short exposure! My, you really are an oddball as far as ‘umies go, huh…” When he saw Twilight’s disappointed expression, he tapped the part of his mask that covered his chin. “Well… I might not be able to, but… I know this ovva’ lass ‘cross the pond.”

”Across the pond? Is it your wife?”

“Nah, more like a cousin. She ain’t draug, though - she’s drighina - my kin, but still a bit different. Much closer to Macsal’s Worldsong than me. Veslemoy, is her name.”

Twilight pursed his lips. ”Which pond’re we talking about, by the way?”

Tidemand pointed at the sea before them. Twilight blinked. ”That’s it?” Tidemand nodded. ”I have to swim across the ocean?” Tidemand nodded.

“It ain’t small pond, I’ll admit, but if you want the experts, you’ll find ‘em on distant Kobasar. That’s whot the land’s called.” Tidemand dumped a bucket’s worth of pipeweed ashes out of his pipe and smacked his lips. “Give ‘er my best if you find ‘er, a’roight? Ain’t seen ‘er for a few years, so I hope all’s good wiv’er.”

Twilight emptied out his own pipe and stood up, stretching his back. ”I’ll have to cross that on my own?” Tidemand shrugged.

“Dunno. Are ‘umies good swimmers?”

”I mean… I might be,” Twilight proposed with a shrug of his own. As he waded into the sea, he turned to Tidemand and bowed respectfully. ”Hey, Tidemand. It, it really was a joy to spend time with ya.

“Likewise, Twilight. Make sure you don’t drown now, alright? Oh, and thanks for the pipe. I’ll make sure to teach this craft to everyone I meet.”

Twilight grinned back and then started swimming eastwards to Kubrajzar.

SummaREEE!

Twilight smokes weed with a thumbling, then goes east from the Weeping Plains to find a draug on the eastern Toraan shore. He nearly has a heart attack from seeing the ugly sumbitch, but then realises draugs are hella nice. They carve weed pipes together and smoke. The draug, named Tidemand, then teaches Twilight about Worldsong and tells him to seek out a drighina to learn more. Twilight then gets swimming towards Kubrajzar.

MP SummaREEE!

Gibbou/Twilight 5MP/3DP
1MP: Teach technology - Twilight teaches draugs to carve pipes and smoke pipeweed. This knowledge will likely spread all over the eastern coast of Toraan with draug migrations.
Gibbou/Twilight 4MP/3DP

Divinus: The God RP, Mk. IV

“There! That should do it.”

“Oh, bless you, Kaer Mirh, bless you! Oli, say thank you to the kind druid.”

A boy, barely aged seven by the looks of it, stared down at the leg which, merely minutes ago, had been thoroughly broken under the debris of a collapsed mud hut. Now, it was splinted and healing, thanks to the aid of the white-robed, middle-aged man kneeling beside him and his mother with a warm smile. “Th-thank you, Kaer Mirh,” he repeated after his mother and the druid nodded.

“Oh, it was nothing, my son - just make sure it won’t happen again, alright? Next time, I might not be around anymore,” the druid replied and stood up. The boy’s mother dusted off her son’s tunic and helped him to his feet, the boy wincing as he planted his sore foot on the ground.

“Oh, must you leave, kind druid? You’ve done so much for us here - the fruits have never been plumper; the grains, never been larger. We hardly know what we’ll do without your aid.” The rest of the villagers, who had been eyeing the druid’s craft in a circle around them, all nodded and voiced their agreement.

“Even the wolves don’t come for our goats in the night! How do you do it, kind druid? How?” Kaer Mirh turned to the crowd, brandishing his long branch of a walking stick, upon which crown began to grow small flowers and scented leaves. The crowd gasped in awe at the display and clapped. Kaer Mirh bowed humbly.

“My magic is given by divine mandate, villagers of Lallybroch - it is merely a trade for mortal piety. Remember to be true to the gods and the land - if you treat nature as you would treat your fellow man, the land will reward your compassion with bounties unlike that which you’ve ever seen. After all - that is all I did.” He pointed to a forest border just south of the village. “The wolves attack your sheep for many reasons, friend - primarily, perhaps, because the hunters in your village hunt their ancestral grounds free of game.” He tapped the shell of his ear. “I hear them singing about it in the night - how empty their bellies are; how their teeth miss the taste of deer like that which their parents are.”

“But, but we need the deer to survive!” came another voice. Kaer Mirh nodded slowly.

“Oh yes, oh yes, I can understand why you would think so - when winter comes, you fear your larders will empty, so you stock up as much as you can. But I have kept close watch over your larders this past week - much of what you harvest, goes to waste - and when it comes to waste, much is already too much.” He shrugged. “I have made a deal with the wolves: They will no longer harm your goats if your hunters stay out of their woods for the rest of the year. That will allow the deer to return and rebuild the balance.”

“W-wait, what?” That was a voice Kaer Mirh recognised: There came rumbling a large, perhaps slightly too wide, man with mighty blonde horseshoe mustache complementing an otherwise rather well-shaven face. It was chief Vraendol, and his face had taken on a terribly red colour. Kaer Mirh nodded his greetings.

“Good afternoon, chieftain - what, pray tell, has you--”

“Don’t play coy with me, druid - you mean to say you made a deal with, with animals without consulting us first?” he exclaimed with a fat finger thrusted in the druid’s face. Kaer Mirh nodded.

“Absolutely, chieftain. The -wolves- were quite satisfied with the arrangement, too.”

“Oh, I’m sure they were, I’m sure they were - and what will out hunters do then, hmm? What will become of us when winter comes and our larders are short on meats, huh? What then, druid?”

Kaer Mirh nodded his head from side to side in a lethargic manner. The crowd had slowly begun to move away from the druid and behind their chieftain, who crossed his arms sternly across his chest. Eventually, the druid shrugged. “If you killed a stag tomorrow and brought it to the village, its meat, even when dried, would not last until winter. The plants are still growing and ripening as though it was spring. However, that stag could prove vital for the wolfmothers so they last until this winter’s rut. Kill that stag, and the wolfmothers will take your goats instead, which, in my humble opinion, would bereave you of more than some dry meat shanks.” He turned to the hunters, whose earlier awed expressions had turned to bitter scowls. “Let the hunters work the fields or gather the woods’ bounty instead - the more you harvest, the more goats you can feed through the winter. I, for one, prefer milk over blood.”

“Hah! A milkdrinker, I see!” the chieftain taunted. The hunters snickered. “And what makes you think we’ll keep your little deal after you’ve moved on, hmm?”

“Oh, I’m certain the second I’m past the horizon, your hunters will be out there looking for the largest, fattest stag there ever was - and that’ll be your choice to do. Just keep in mind that the World Song can be heard by many more, and those who break oaths have more to fear than wolves in the night, my friend.”

“The oath isn’t ours to break,” the chieftain hissed back. Kaer Mirh sighed.

“Very well, good chieftain.” With that, the druid knelt down to retrieve his back of herbal remedies and equipment, which he had left on the ground after helping little Oli. He turned back to the villagers and bowed. “I thank you for your hospitality this week. May the Eight forever hold you in their favour.” With that, he turned away once more and set course northwards.

“Thank you so much for your help!” one of the children, little Oli, most likely, burst out. The chieftain could be heard scolding him, but only briefly before another, this one a girl, joined in: “Thanks, kind druid!” Before long, many of the villagers ignored their chieftain’s orders to pipe down, shouting their appreciation for the druid’s help. Kaer Mirh didn’t turn back, but under a long, greying brown beard, a smile shone through despite his neutral appearance.

---

Gibbou had taken a moment to leave Genesis with Oraelia while she strolled around the Antiquity for a moment. Its facades were cold and a little too bright for her liking, but at least there were plenty of corners and crevices where shade was plentiful. She would occasionally settle down by one of these corners, pondering the state of mortality below. That was when she heard it:

Sweetest Lady on the Moon,
‘Tis I, your admirer -
I for none but you will swoon,
For you, no love is higher

Source of lighting in the night,
I reach with wanting in my heart.
Insolent, my wish be might,
My song, say sorry, will, for start.

Darkness hugs my every turn -
I have no shelter yet.
I rest tonight in moss and ferns -
Can sleep be granted without threat?

Lady Moon, you are perfect,
For you, my song’ll never end.
Please, oh Gibbou, come protect
This humble druid’s life, defend.

There was a pause in the song, through which Gibbou was uncertain of what had happened to the singer. She knew this voice well, for he had sung for her before - she conjured forth an image of the mortal, a white-robed man halfway through life, lying comfortably in the moss in the woods staring at the sky. Her heart jumped a little and she couldn’t help but smile - he looked so happy despite there being no roof above his head. From what she could see, his eyelids quickly grew heavier and heavier as he rolled onto his side.

Wond’rous Gibbou, be with me
As I rest… I’ll...

The rest of the verse seemed to be snoring, but Gibbou had already heard what she needed. The joy of such pious mortals - mortals like this, well… She didn’t know his name, actually, but she knew most things about him regardless! The spitting image of the druid she had imagined all those years ago!

She had to tell someone - anyone! Mortals like him needed to be taken care of by the gods, so that they may spread and multiply! She saw a portal open itself in the distance and walked towards it.

As she stepped through the portal, she immediately found herself standing upon what seemed to be an island made out of clouds, floating in the midst of an endless blue sky. She was standing on a cobblestone path, which led to a rather large and imposing fortress of black stone.

“Gibbou? Is that you?” Cadien’s voice spoke in her head. Just then, the sky suddenly darkened, as if transitioning from day to dusk - although there was no sun to be seen. This was not her doing; it was almost as if Cadien was trying to make his realm more welcoming to her. “Come in, come in! I’m in the keep!”

The moon goddess admired the surroundings as she skipped along the cobblestone path until she reached the fortress gates, taking in the sights in the shadow of the dark sky with glee. “I love what you’ve done with the place!” she praised as she entered. She found herself standing in a grassy courtyard, the path continuing onward past two fountains of pure sparkling water, and leading into the fortress’s main building. She went over to one of the fountains and marveled at the fizziness of its water. “Is this mineral water?”

“Pure water,” Cadien answered in her mind. “The sparkling is purely a visual effect, meant to make it more pleasing to the eye.”

“Oh,” cooed Gibbou in a somewhat let-down manner. “Anyway, Cadien, I’ve caught something and I just -had- to tell somebody. See, there’s this druid…”

“A druid? I think I’ve heard that term before. Remind me, what are they?”

Gibbou stepped inside the palace, a cup of sparkling normal water in her hand. “Well, see, druidism is this type of magic my sister and I thought up to help mortals protect themselves without our help, and-- Oh, sister, what are these?!” She gaped and looked at the statues all around.

Standing in the hallway, on either side of the velvety purple carpet, were anatomically correct statues of every single one of Galbar’s species; one for each gender, and in its idealized form. All of them were anatomically correct, and none of them were clothed. The statue of the Female Night Elf in particular happened to look very similar to Gibbou. “Oh, those? I sculpted them over the years. What do you think?”

Gibbou approached the Night Elves and looked them up and down through her fingers, plum-like cheeks flushing in hiding. She cleared her through unnecessarily thoroughly and swallowed before answering. “Uh-uhm… They’re, uh… Wow.” She sniffed once and pinched the bridge of her nose. “They’re nice - really nice, ahem.”

“I’m glad you think so! Anyhow, I’m in the next room. Sorry for not coming out to meet you; I wanted to get an honest reaction to what I’ve done with the place.”

“It’s fine!” she replied with a cracking voice. She corrected herself: “It’s fine. I’ll be right there.” She moved into the other room while burbling bubbles into her cup timidly. The doors to the next room opened on their own accord, and led into a vast open chamber that was unfurnished saved for a marble throne at the very end, a golden chandelier on the ceiling, and several side doors leading off to different rooms.

Cadien was seated on the throne, though unlike any other time she saw him, this time he was actually clothed. He was a clad in a set of shining golden armour, with muscles engraved on the chestplate. Upon his brow sat a golden circlet studded with amethysts, and on his back was a vibrant violet cape, which matched the colour of eyes.

Cadien rose to his feet and clapped his gauntleted hands together. “So!” he said, as she stepped into the room. “What do you think of my new look?”

Gibbou squinted somewhat. “It’s bright. A, a nice shade of it, though - since, y’know, it’s shady out.” She prodded her fingers together. “It suits you.”

“Oh, I see,” Cadien said, as realization dawned. He snapped his fingers, and the gold turned to black. “Is that better?” Without awaiting a response, he stepped forward and waved his hand. Two comfortable-looking armchairs materialized in the center of the room. Cadien sat down on one, and waited for Gibbou to take her seat on the other, which she did.

Gibbou’s squint turned to a frown. “Don’t get me wrong, but black isn’t, isn’t really your colour. You’re so bright and, and, and awesome - gold’s more your thing, y’know.” She punctuated the sentence with the sheepish suck of a tooth. “Sssssooo… Right, druidism! You wanted a reminder?”

Cadien nodded, as his armour once more morphed back into its familiar gold. “Yes. I’ve heard about this form of magic before, but I don’t know the specifics. Could you tell me more?”

“Right, so - like I was saying before - it’s a form of magic that allows mortals to perform miracles in our names in return for their pious behaviour and the spreading of such behaviour to the masses. It’s unlocked using this horn that me and a bunch’a others made, called Hir, which, uh, must’a been circulating a lot around the world, for the druids are praying away like they’ve realised the gods are coming back.” She tapped her chin. “Actually, that’s exactly what I came to talk to you about - the most pious of the druids!”

“And who would that be?” Cadien raised an eyebrow.

“... Okay, so I might not know him by name, buuut he’s a great guy - just making life for mortalkind around Toraan so, so swell! That’s why - hear me out - that’s why I think we should give him our blessing; y’know, so he can gather like-minded druids and form some kind of organisation and spread that wonderous piety all throughout the land!”

“Really? What sort of blessing did you have in mind, then?”

“Something… Something that’ll help them stay on the road in peace. People often depend on these druids to come heal their wounded, treat their sick, help the crops. I feel like we ought to help them do that job to the best of their abilities. Let them sleep in peace at night so they can move further on the road the next day; give them perhaps an aura to ward off brigands and beasts seeking an easy meal? Hmm?” She winked at Cadien. “Something like a perfect smile?”

Cadien replied with just such a smile. “Mmm yes, I see. I’m not sure what a smile will do to deter cannibalistic brigands, but I suppose it won’t hurt. Mayhaps I could also increase their strength, or their stamina. There’s an idea.”

“Stamina, perhaps, so they at least can outrun threats. I’d rather not turn my precious druids into fighters, Cadien,” mumbled the moon goddess. “But, uh, yeah, sounds good?”

“Sure! You did tell me how to create that moon, so I suppose I do owe you something. Hmm… I never did get to ask your opinion on that purple moon, actually. Did you like it?”

“It’s, uh…” She hummed. “It reminds me of you. Really, uh, stands out in the night sky. Anyway,” she cleared her throat and brought up an image of the druid in question, who seemed to currently be journeying over a hill along with a colleague, a human woman dressed in the same white robes. “Shall we get to it?”

“Very well,” Cadien nodded. “You start, and I shall follow your example.”

Gibbou nodded and drew some bright circles in the air with moonlight, filling in the spaces between the circles with runes. “All druids who follow this man, wherever you may be on the world below…” In the image, the cloud cover seemed to darken over the pair, and the mortals looked around with puzzled expressions. “... I hereby name you the Circle of the Long Stride, and yours shall be a unit devoted to helping villages all throughout the land.” In the image, flashes indicated the presence of thunder. “You will found a moot to meet once every year - there, you will lay your routes for which villages you are to aid every season. Go out - spread the good words of druidism to every corner of Galbar. For this, no beast, brigand nor bereavement shall befall you after nightfall - your every evening shall pass without issue. This is my blessing to you, Circle of the Long Stride…” With that, Gibbou passed the circle on to Cadien.

Cadien accepted the circle with a nod. “To the Circle of the Long Stride,” he said, in a serious tone. “To help you carry out these duties, I, Cadien, give you a blessing. I give you the gift of endurance. You will tire less quickly whilst walking or running, and you will be more resistant to any sicknesses you encounter in your travels.” Then, Cadien’s lips curled into a grin. “I also bless you with perfect smiles. Never again shall your teeth rot or decay.”

“Oh, that’ll in handy!” Gibbou remarked and looked into the image. The mortals seemed to already be noticing the visible parts of their blessing, pointing at each other faces. Before long, they were both laying themselves down in the grass to praise the gods. Gibbou clapped her hands excitedly as the image disappeared. “Oh, they look so happy! Thank you so much, Cadien!”

“You’re quite welcome,” Cadien said with a nod. “Was there anything else you needed assistance with?”

“Oh, uh…” she drummed her chin thoughtfully. “Can’t, uh… Can’t think of anything at the moment. Oh! Did you manage to replicate my, uh, my soul thing?”

“I did,” Cadien nodded, as his smile widened. “My new… avatar, I decided to call it, is wandering Galbar as we speak. As is Qael’s, and Illyd’s. Iternis should be making one soon as well. In fact, as we speak they should already be in the process of informing everyone. You’ve done a great favour for us, Gibbou.”

“Oh, pssshhh. It was nothing! Just gotta ask - are yours, uh… They aren’t, y’know…” She paused. “They’re loyal, right?”

“Mine should be,” Cadien said. “Instead of binding the fragment of my soul to one mortal, I’ve decided to have it move. It changes hosts every few years. If one of these hosts turns against my purpose, it will eventually move on to someone else. Then there’s Illyd’s… he basically just made himself, so I doubt he’ll have too many troubles. I’m not sure about Qael’naath’s - I didn’t ask him for specific details. Anyhow, I have high hopes.”

“Oh, that’s wonderful! Better to try a lot of solutions! After all, mine, uh… Mine didn’t work so well--Anyway! It was really nice of you to help out, Cadien. Will I be seeing you around?” She started moving towards the doorway.

“You will,” Cadien confirmed, as he rose to his feet, walked past her, and held the door open for her. “As for your own avatar, Gibbou… I wouldn’t worry too much, if I was you. I think that, eventually, he’ll come to realize that your gift to him far outweighs whatever you took away. Maybe one day he’ll forgive you, or perhaps even be grateful.”

Gibbou stood in the doorway, back facing Cadien. She snickered quietly, but it had a cold politeness to it. “Heh, yeah… Doubt it. See ya around, though, Cades. Was nice hanging out.” With that, she made her way towards the realm’s exit portal.

SummaREEEE!

A druid named Kaer Mirh helps people on Galbar, showing just how pious and awesome he is. Gibbou sees how awesome he is, so she goes to Cadien to tell him how awesome she thinks she is. Cadien agrees that this druid is awesome, and together they decide to make the druid and his colleagues on Toraan even more awesome by turning them into a holy order (deets in MP sum). They do so awesomely and then discuss avatars - Cadien says his turned out awesome. Then they part ways.

MP Summaree!

Gibbou: 5MP/5DP

2DP - Consecrate Holy Order The Circle of the Long Stride: A druidic circle primarily based in Northern Toraan. Druidic circles are sects of druidism that have been consecrated into an order. While Druidic circles gain prestige from its membres starring in posts, they must cannot spend said prestige outside of the Circle Moot, which takes place once a year. Receives the following title from Gibbou:

• Nightveil II: Membres of this holy order can sleep throughout the night in peace without fear of anyone or anything harming them regardless of where they choose to rest.

Gibbou end: 5MP/3DP, ⅘ for Respite portfolio.

Cadien: 5MP/5DP

• 1DP - grant The Circle of the Long Stride the “Endurance I” title, giving them increased stamina while travelling, as well as slightly more resistance to disease.
• 1DP (discounted to 0 via Glamour Portfolio) - to grant The Circle of the Long Stride the “Shining Smiles I” title, giving them flawless dental hygeine.

Cadien end: 5MP/4DP

Divinus: The God RP, Mk. IV

“Ugh…”

He twisted barely, feeling as though a layer of dust trickled off of his face. A foul flavour that seemed to have built up for ages coated the inside of his mouth like a stroke of gasoline. His body felt stiff as if frozen or petrified. He tried to move his fingers, but the nerves leading up to his hands seemed about as groggy as he was. It took a full minute before he could properly flex his digits, and even that was an exaggerated description of the controlled twitch it was making.

“Hnng…” he wheezed again through parched vocal cords. He tried to open his eyes, but found they’d been sealed shut by aeons of dried tears. Once he could move his arms, he sent his hands to his eyes’ rescue and had them wipe away the salt and stone petrifying shut his eyes. That’s when he realised the dust he had felt earlier had not been a mistake - according to his hands, which albeit were still prickling with numbness, his face was indeed covered in a thick layer of dust.

This kicked his survival instincts into gear, and ancient organs pumped him full of hormones to wake the rest of the corpse-like body up. Soon, nearly blind eyes were surveying the surroundings hopelessly, seeing nothing but darkness. He tried to sit up, but his core muscles had yet to awaken.

How could this have happened?! Had he been buried alive? For what?! He couldn’t remember anything at all from--...

The adrenaline disappeared and he calmed down uncannily fast. Remember… That’s right. He couldn’t remember a thing. His breathing intensified and he tried to sit up, the sound of what could be anything from grains to many pounds of dust and soil rolling off on him and down on, what he surmised to be, a flat rock floor. Nothing - he could remember absolutely nothing - where he came from, what he was, who he was - all was blank. He patted himself down - his hair was greasy and stiff, but he had hair, at least. His clothing was thin and fibrous of texture, rank and foul of scent. It covered a surprisingly fit form - bipedal, symmetrical on both sides of the middle. His skin was surprisingly soft, if not a little coarse from the remains of dust and stone. He tested the flexibility of his toes - they had awoken.

Alright. He would try to stand. With a sequence of movements that utilised ancient, untested musculature, he set his two feet down on the cold stone floor and instinctively pushed himself to stand. The action was too much for his groggy legs to carry and he tripped forward, catching himself on something warm and soft. He heard a low growl and instinctively tossed himself backwards onto the platform he had been laying down on. Then, he stepped forward again to touch the warm, soft spot. With some further probing and prodding, he concluded that whatever this surface was, it was not made of the same material as the floor. A short distance from the spot, there came another growl and a loud snore. He jumped backwards again, but collected himself faster this time. He approached the sound of the snore and reached out. His hands came into contact with something warm and wet, and he retracted them immediately. He gave them a sniff and recoiled - it stank of death and rot. He looked back in the general direction of where the snoring had come from. Whatever it was, its scent warned his every system that he should move on. He didn’t know where to go, though.

It was then that he raised his head and saw, high above what looked to be the shadow of an uneven wall, rising and falling as though it breathed, a light, faint enough to be invisible, yet so very evident in this utter darkness. He looked back down again and put two and two together - the wall was whatever was in front of him, and whatever was in front of him was likely no wall at all, but a living, breathing creature. He tried to move to the right, but met only a cold stone wall; he tried to move to the left, but the wall just kept going and going, and he didn’t feel comfortable fumbling around in the dark as he did. Eventually, he decided to climb over the creature.

It was difficult at first - its skin was soft and slippery - but his whole body was awake by now - instincts took him to the top eventually. There, from the top of whatever creature this was, he saw it: It was a distant, faint light of blueish white, patrolling between what appeared to be rows upon rows, columns upon columns, of platforms, upon which laid something or someone sleeping. The light kept intimate watch over every single one, stopping by every creature to inspect it thoroughly before moving on to the next. This gave him a chance to see what this room was: A vast, unending dormitory, filled with shelves upon shelves of life. A prison? Perhaps, but he wasn’t going to stay long enough to find out.

Keeping himself as hidden as possible, he descended from the creature he had been standing on and collapsed into a crawl. Snaking his way along the floor, he observed smaller and larger shadows all around him, cleared now as the light drew closer to his part of the hall. Some were bipedal like him, albeit shorter, taller, furrier or nuder. Some looked like they belonged in the sky or in the sea; some were so large as to take up whole sectors of the hall; others were small enough to share platforms with millions of others. What kind of purgatory was this?!

Something changed before him. A growing, black image formed on the floor ahead of him, and it didn’t take long before he realised it was his own shadow. He twisted onto his back and saw another orb of blue light, this one closing in on him while flaring ominously. He pushed himself back and up against a stone platform, and just as the night captured him, he shouted, “NOOOOOO!”

Poof!

He opened his eyes, then blinked instinctively on account of the lighting change. Around him was a serenely dim room, with jellyfish swimming lethargically around in the air. The atmosphere was uncannily different from what he was certain had been either a prison or a tomb just now. The roof and walls were made of clear glass, which allowed him to see into the vast emptiness of what he could only surmise was the night sky - except that it was everywhere.

“My child… You have awoken,” came a voice like silk from behind him. He turned to see the smiling face of a beautiful, plum-skinned woman, with hair like the midnight sky and eyes like two glistening moons. She was dressed in what looked to be a dress spun entirely from the night sky itself. She wore a peaceful, tranquil expression with a small, soft smile and had extended a hand in his direction, invitingly gesturing for him to approach. “Come, come closer, my child.”

He approached slowly, steadily, his experience in the tomb keeping him on his toes. With a slightly hunkered posture, he gestured at the surroundings and asked in as calm a voice, “What… Is this place?”

The woman giggled softly. “Oh, my dear… I have waited for so long for someone to ask me that question. You are in my sanctuary, a place no one will ever come to harm you.”

The man eyed the outside through the glass dome again. The stars twinkled in the distance; further away, a purple, round stone drifted slower than the eye could observe, as if suspended in thin air; if he really focused, he could just the a different shadow, unlike the one blocking out the outside light. It was almost as if… A different world was there below. He turned once again to the woman and asked, “Where exactly are we?”

The goddess smiled wider and closed her eyes peacefully as she gestured skywards. “We are somewhere between realities - a world where all is in our power, and where the light of the sun will never hurt us again. Suspended in the space between Galbar and the great beyond, we are safe from all danger. Welcome, my child, to the dark side of the moon.”

“The MOON?!” he shouted in reply and the woman recoiled a little, seemingly struggling to keep her calm appearance. He knelt down and clutched his head - yes, he didn’t remember anything about his past, but truths of the universe like the existence of the Sun, the Moons and the Stars came as easily to him as breathing - and to think that he currently was on one of these three celestial objects sabotaged what little sense he had made of his situation even further.

The woman waved her hand soothingly. “Do not worry, my child - I have already imbued you with the powers necessary to sustain your existence here for all eternity. Now, I am certain you have many questions, dear, so go ahead and a--”

“Who am I?!” shouted the man again and the woman frowned slightly.

“Your, your name, my child, is Twilight, champion of the moo--”

“Where did I just come from?! What was that place?!”

“Please, Twilight, don’t interrupt me. It was--”

“It was a tomb, wasn’t it?! Am I dead?! Is this the afterlife?!”

“Twilight!” The woman’s smile had faded for an instant, replaced by an annoyed glare. However, it quickly returned - though much too slowly for Twilight not to notice. The man returned a frown and crossed his hands over his chest.

“What was it?”

The woman sighed softly and stood up, gesturing to the right. A mirror of moon dust coalesced over her hand and she sent it floating towards Twilight. The man peered into the mirror’s image and saw an endlessly long set of tunnels going deep inside the moon, each tunnel ending in a chambre full of stone beds upon which slept both animate and inanimate life, sorted by species. The man drew a gasp and looked back at the woman and asked frightfully, “Are you some kind of, of death spirit? A jailor?”

The woman blinked and recoiled. “Uh--! What?!” She then instantly collected herself and cleared her throat. She put back on her soft smile and approached Twilight with slow, controlled steps. “No, my child… I am neither a death spirit nor a jailor. I am the protector of all life, the Lady on the Moon, and the Guardian in the Night.” She paused to see if Twilight could figure it out, but a skeptical frown was the only answer she got. With a slightly more frustrated sigh, she said, “I am Gibbou - goddess of the moon?” Twilight shook his head again, eliciting a groan in response. “Oh, that’s just great… I woke up an idiot.”

“Wait, woke up? What?”

“Yes, you’ve been asleep.”

“For how long?”

Gibbou shook her head and rolled her eyes, shrugging. “I don’t know - a while, I guess?”

“How. Long, Gibbou?”

The goddess shrunk before the scowling man. Sheepishly, she prodded together her index fingers and focused her gaze on anywhere but the man’s face. “W-well… Around, uh… Two, two thousand years?”

“Two thou--!” The man staggered back as if Gibbou had kicked him in the chest - though she may as well have. He supported himself against the ice cold glass wall, cupping a quivering palm over his mouth. “... I, I can’t believe this? What of my family? My friends?”

“Did you have any?” Gibbou asked before she could really analyse the contents of her question. She immediately tried to fix it by saying, “Look, if you did, I’m pretty sure they’re safely asleep in the Hall below!” She paused. “Or not, but that’s beside the point!”

“How is that ‘beside the point’, Gibbou?! Gods, I was kidnapped 2000 years ago and put inside a, a, a tomb with life from all over the world, wasn’t I?!”

Gibbou gulped, but didn’t respond. Twilight grit his teeth and repeated in a roar, “Wasn’t I?!”

“Technically, it’s a dormitory.”

Twilight threw his hands in the air. “You know what? No, I will not stay here with you. Where’s the exit?” Just as he took a step away from her, he felt something wrap itself around his leg, complemented by, “NONONONONO! PLEASEPLEASEPLEASEPLEEEEAAASE, DON’T GOOO-HO-HOOO!” The moon goddess laid weeping and rubbed her cheek against his left calf muscle. Twilight tried to pull his leg out of her arms, but Gibbou held on with titanic strength.

“Damn it, woman - let… Go!”

“Nnno! I don’t wanna be alone agaaaaiiin!” the moon goddess wept.

“Not my problem! Go wake up someone else or something!”

“I triiiieed! The others are so mean to meeee!”

“Yeah, well, that tends to happen when you kidnap someone off their damn planet - now let go!” The man eventually managed to pull his foot out of Gibbou’s grasp, who proceeded to rise to a kneeling position and point a quivering finger at Twilight’s back.

“Y-y-you can’t leave! It’s impossible!”

Twilight turned slowly, menacingly, and stared Gibbou down. “What was that?”

The moon goddess nodded rapidly. “Mhm! Yeah - all exits are sealed and, and, and if you step outside, you’ll die!”

Twilight frowned pitifully. “Didn’t you just tell me you gave me powers that can let me survive this environment?”

Gibbou made a sheepish expression. “No, I said, uh… I gave you powers thaaaaat, uhm… Let you… Revive thiiiis man-pyro-scent--No, come back!”

Twilight started to grow used to the weight of a goddess dragging along with his foot. Gibbou choked down some sobs and went on: “Two thousand years, Twilight - do you know what it’s like to be alone for two thousand years?!”

“Oh, I don’t know, Gibbou - do you know what it’s like to realise you’ve been -asleep- for two thousand years?” He dragged the goddess along with him down a staircase, Gibbou blurting out the occasional ‘owie!’

“You’re even worse than when I woke up that Vrool last millennia! And he ate a quarter of the aquatic section!”

“Well, that’s nice for him. Now where is the damn exit?” He took a left, and Gibbou nearly lost her grip as she slammed into the corner of the doorway.

“Then there was that night elf that I woke up four centuries ago - she was so, so mean! She even tried to attack me - several times! Why are you mortals like this?!”

“Why are you, a goddess, like this?!” He stopped and looked down at Gibbou with his hands on his hips, a stern frown on his face. Gibbou immediately sat up on her knees and looked down at the ground. “Don’t you have, like, other gods you can interact with?”

Gibbou gave a sad sniff. “W-well… I don’t feel like I have, have the right to.”

“Oh, no…”

“See, about two thousand years ago…”

“You’re gonna tell me your whole life story, aren’t you?”

“... Do you plan on letting me?”

“Not at all.”

“... Not even a summary?”

“Will you tell me where the exit is?”

“... No...”

“Well, guess we’re stuck here, huh?” With that, Twilight sat down with crossed legs opposite of Gibbou. He rested his chin on a balled-up knuckle. A moment or so went buy when the only sounds were Gibbou’s sniffing. Eventually, Twilight let out a sigh and said, “Alright… Give me the gist of it.”

The moon goddess’ face lit up and she took a deep breath, but saw Twilight raise his brows warningly and cleared her throat. “So, uh… Yeah, about two thousand years ago, I did some bad stuff, uh… Caused some deaths here and there and, well, I got a bit of a panic attack.”

“A panic attack as in?”

“As in let me finish, Twilight! So, I got a panic attack and decided that, in order to be, y’know, protector of all life, I should snatch up some of all life and keep it safe here, right?”

“Great plan, gotta say,” replied Twilight with a flat sneer.

“Weeell, it wasn’t--... Oh, right, sarcasm.” Gibbou hung her head a bit. “Anyway, I was confident in that plan for about, uh…” She scratched her head thoughtfully. “Three months, I think…”

Twilight smirked and Gibbou scowled back. “I’m a goddess, not flawless. I’m not my sister, okay?”

“Oh, wooow, you have a sister? What’re you lonely for, then? Can’t you just talk to her?”

Gibbou looked away, and for a moment, Twilight almost looked sympathetic. “Oh, damn, is, is she--? L-look, I didn’t mean it like that, I--”

“What, you think she’s dead?” Gibbou exclaimed. “No! What’re you, stupid? She’s a goddess! She can’t die!”

Twilight exaggerated a shrug. “Well, how am I supposed to know that?! I literally just woke up after two thousand years of sleep!”

“I dunno, maybe you remember at least -something- about the gods?”

“Well, I clearly don’t, so there!” There was a pause. “So… What happened to you then?” Gibbou shrunk together timidly again.

“And theeeen, well… You know what a hangover is?”

“I’ve forgotten memories, not words, Gibbou,” replied Twilight with a lopsided sneer.

“Okay, just checking, sheesh...” replied Gibbou with a roll of her eyes. “So yeah, I had a regret hangover for, like, a millennium - just kinda regretting the whole, y’know, ‘kidnapping a large percentage of the world’s life’-thing, and I got really, reeeaally lonely, and really, reeeeaally sad during that time.”

“Couldn’t you have just, y’know, put them back?”

“Remember how I said there’s no exit?”

“No…”

Gibbou nodded. “Though you can jump around on the moon as much as you want, there’s no way of getting down to Galbar. You can, uh, you can trust me on that. I’ve trink -numous- times.”

“So you mean I’m stuck here…”

“Yup.”

“With you?”

“That stings, Twilight.”

The man bent his head back and unleashed a pained scream while Gibbou sat there with a very insulted frown. As Twilight sat back down with a hung head, Gibbou opened her mouth, closed it again and then opened it once more to ask, “Do you want me to put you back to sleep?”

“Is that what you did with the others you woke up?”

“Most of them…” she replied with a sniff.

“What do you mean ‘most of them’?” asked Twilight with a suspicious frown.

“Some stayed around long enough to die of old age; others, uh… Found the backdoor.”

“You mean they--”

“They died horribly, yes.”

Twilight started hyperventilating again. She caved down so he was laying on his side, empty, whiteish blue eyes staring at nothing in particular. “... Well, guess I’ve got nothing better to do, huh.”

“Than to…?”

He rolled over so he was facing away from Gibbou and gave a wave with the hand not supporting his propped-up head. “Go on, finish your story.”

Gibbou, not quite sure what to feel anymore, wiped away a chalky tear and continued, “So, at the thousand year mark, I decided to wake up some people - y’know, so I wouldn’t be lonely anymore. I tried the Vrool first - we know how that went…”

“What -is- a Vrool, actually?”

“Real mean squids.”

“Are they supposed to be on land?”

“No, but I blessed them to be able to stay on land.”

Twilight rolled back over to face her. “So, lemme get this straight - you went through the trouble of waking up, blessing and explaining the situation to various mortals for a thousand years, and not once did it occur to you that you could just, I dunno, -make- a conversation partner?”

The scene stilled. Gibbou’s cheeks flushed with embarrassment as tears welled up in her eyes. Twilight rolled onto his back. “I can’t believe this…”

“Bad things happen when I create stuff! I didn’t want to accidentally create a giant fluffy dragon that would eat everything in the Hall of the Eclipse every Tuesday!”

“Why does it matter?! Can’t you just make more life if the old life gets eaten? Also, what’s Tuesday?!”

“You told me you know words!”

“Well, obviously not ones you’ve made up!”

“Ugh! Either way, I didn’t want to lose the life I’ve kidnapped because one - it’s life and it’s precious, and two - I don’t trust myself to remake it properly!”

The silence settled again. The time that passed before words were said again was just long enough to maximise the awkward tension brewing. “So,” Twilight mumbled eventually, “you have a confidence issue?”

Now it was Gibbou’s turn to turn around, collecting her knees at her chest and wrapping her arms around them. “I don’t wanna talk about it.”

“You’ve already talked about it plenty, so you don’t have to.” Twilight scooted a little closer until they sat back to back, Gibbou’s face dug deep in between her knees and Twilight’s face looking up at the ceiling. “... But I do think you’re being a bit harsh on yourself.”

Gibbou looked up slightly and the sobbing recommenced. “... R-... Really?”

“Yeah, I mean… You made all this; you, uh, managed to move all this life all the way to the moon…”

“Pushing it…”

“Got’cha. Anyway, I’m still alive, for one! You -can- do things properly, Gibbou! You just… Don’t get so hung up on the stuff that doesn’t work out the way you hoped, okay?”

Gibbou sniffed and turned her head around sideways, choking a sob. “Where’s all this coming from?”

“Well, y’know… I figured since we’ve got a long time together, we might just bury the hatchet right now, yeah? Maybe even become friends?”

Gibbou let out a weak chuckle, which grew into a genuine one. “Oh, Twilight… Now I almost don’t regret infusing you with my power.” She wiped away a joyful tear.

“Heh, yeah, I can be an ass sometimes… Say, what was that about infusion?”

“Oh, see, I put a part of my soul into you, blessing you with eternal life and divine abilities unlike that which any other mortal can receive,” replied Gibbou faithfully. Twilight blinked.

“Y-... Y’mean I can perform miracles?”

Gibbou nodded, still facing away from Twilight. “Oh yeah, yeah! Go nuts. Would be nice to get a fresh, artistic mind around here. I’m almost tired of making gargoyles everywhere - almost.”

There was no response, except for a gentle hum. Gibbou turned her head somewhat. “Twilight?” Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a bright light - it immediately made her turn fully to lay her quartz-coloured eyes upon something that took her breath away entirely.

There, not even four paces ahead, was a glowing, blue ring showing an image of the Boreal Highlands, unchanged as though she had seen them yesterday - and on the other side of the image stood Twilight, surveying the surroundings. Gibbou hastened forward, casting herself at the portal. However, a powerful force knocked her back and into the wall behind her. Quickly, she regained her stance and approached the portal again. “Twilight!”

The figure on the other side turned. “Oh, Gibbou! Heeeeyy…”

“Twilight, I know we got off on the wrong foot, but--”

“Yo, Gibbou, listen… Since, y’know, I’ve god part of your soul and all, I figured it might be wise to, y’know, go down to Galbar for a spell - test this divinity business, y'know!”

“Twilight, I swear on my sister, if you don’t--”

“Oh, I’m sorry, what’s that? I think the portal isn’t transmitting sound anymore.” On the other side, Gibbou started sobbing again.

“What about what you -just- said? About burying the hatchet? Becoming friends?”

Twilight stretched his hands over his head. “Yyyyeeeeaah, about that. I’m sure people say you’re nice once they get to know you, -but- you also trapped me in a prison for most of history. I’m not really sure mommy would approve of me having such a friend…”

“Your mom died two thousand years ago!”

“Proving my point, too, huh.” Gibbou slapped her palm over her mouth and Twilight smirked back. “Well, nice knowing you, Gibs - I’m off to relive some of those lost years.” With that, he started strolling away from the now-shrinking portal.

“No, Twilight - Twilight, come back!” Gibbou pleaded, but all she got back was a sloppy wave over Twilight’s back. The portal finally popped out of existence. Gibbou stared at the empty air for a long time, tears not even able to pour forth. Eventually, she keeled over and screamed her sorrow into the floor. She couldn’t stop bawling - it just hurt so badly. Finally - after two thousand years, she thought she had finally gotten a friend again.

She needed someone - anyone. She laid down flatly against the floor and whispered, “Orey… Orey, help me…” The pain too much to handle, she closed her eyes.

When she opened them again, there was a familiar, gentle hum on the air. Gibbou scrambled to her knees and eyed the phenomenon up ahead. It was a portal, similar to the one Twilight had made, but the image on the other side was different: it looked nothing like Galbar at all, and it oozed of divine essence.

Oraelia’s was among them.

With a explosive movement, Gibbou charged at the portal. She would no longer be alone; she would face the others regardless of what they would say about her. She needed them - she needed her.

“ORAELIA!” she shouted as she jumped through the portal and into the Antiquity.

---

SummaREEEEEEEEEE!

A man wakes up inside the Hall of the Eclipse. It’s hella dark and he feels as though he’s been asleep for 2000 years (spoiler alert). He tries to Metal Gear his way out, but is found by the sentries first. The sentries teleport him to Gibbou, who greets him like Gibbou wouldn’t greet people. The man is named Twilight and learns that he has to spend eternity with Gibbou. Hilarities ensue as he hates this idea and the two banter with each other until Gibbou explains what she has been doing for 2k years - long story short, she believed she could protect all life in the Hall of the Eclipse for roughly three months and spent the remaining 1999 years and nine months regretting everything. She tried waking up others before Twilight, but they either died or killed themselves, leaving Gibbou pretty sad and lonely. The two eventually reconcile and almost become friends before Gibbou tells Twilight he’s an avatar and can do godly stuff. Twilight immediately dabs off to Galbar and leaves Gibbou to cry. Gibbou then realises she can teleport to the Antiquity and immediately speeds off in search of her sister.

MP Spendage

Gibbou/Twilight: 5MP/5DP

• 0MP (first action): Make the human Twilight an avatar of Gibbou.
• 0MP (first action): Create a portal from the Dark Side of the Moon to Galbar.

Divinus: The God RP, Mk. IV

Gibbou

---

Of course! How could she have been so stupid?! She had been completely useless down here, causing so much despair and damage without even knowing about it. At least on the Moon, she would be able to keep everything under a watchful eye. Oh! What if… What if she put everything up there to sleep for eternity? Then it would be super easy to keep them safe! Hehehe, oh, Oraelia had been right in the end - she was so smart!

Yes, only Oraelia - only her sister knew how hard life could be. Nothing ever went as she hoped it would, but she knew Oraelia would be proud of her for this. Think of the lives saved! The thought made her giddy. She travelled westwards, picking up specimens of all life she saw on the way. She kept them floating safely behind her.

In the early evening, she landed in the middle of the village of Fragrance. She was eager to see Adrian and tell him of her plan. She called out, “Adrian? Adrian, I’m back!” and prayed she hadn’t been gone for too long. Night elves, awoken by the rudely loud calls, peeked out of their caves and huts with scowls aimed at the moon goddess.

"S'up, Toots," Adrian yawned from the mouth of a cave, a long strand of blue hair stuck to his wrinkled shirt and dragging behind him as he approached.

Gibbou squealed as she saw him and immediately picked him up. “Oh, Adrian, I’ve missed you so, so, so, soooo much! Have you been alright? Have the night elves been good to you?” Out from the cave approached Cilantra, Parslie and Bay among others, all armed with sharpened sticks and stone knives.

"For the most part," Adrian leaned to peep behind Gibbou and grimaced at the approaching weapons, "They are a bit superstitious and very much slaves to anxiety."

“Heh… Like maker, like, uh… Makees. Say, Adrian, wanna hear about my newest idea? Oh, I think you’re gonna like it!”

"I bet I will," He blinked, "But, uh, are they gonna like it." He tilted his chin at the armed envoy. On cue, Cilantra opened her mouth in the usual threatening whisper she usually employed:

“Moon goddess! You return to us once again, loud and squealing as ever. What do you say in your defense for the crime of breaking the Great Peace again?” Parslie and Bay folded their arms behind her and scowled all the same. Gibbou sighed.

“Sorry, sorry, I got so excited, is all!” Cilantra and the others motioned for her to lower her voice and Gibbou grimaced. “Sorry. I’ll be gone soon, okay?” She looked back down at Adrian. “So… The plan is… You know how I’m supposed to keep all life safe during the night, right?” Cilantra and the others, meanwhile, felt awfully ignored.

Adrian tucked a knuckle under his chin, "Yeah, I remember that. Whatcha thinkin', Blue?"

“So, turns out I suck at that - I let soooo much bad stuff happen without even knowing it. Did you know that the trolls I made are now actively eating people? It’s so awful I want to just stop existing right here and now--!”

“Wait, trolls that do what?!” came a call from Parslie.

“What’s a troll?” Bay added in her confusion.

“Please don’t interrupt. Anyway, so I got this great idea, right? Just bring as much life as I can up to the moon, where I can keep it safe forever! C’mon, what do you think? It’s good, right?”

"The moon, huh?" Adrian scratched the side of his face, "Seems kinda far, doesn't it?"

“Indeed! Far away from danger, horrors and, maybe even more importantly, other gods! Don’t worry, though, Adrian - you’ll get a front seat!” She placed him on her shoulder and giggled happily to herself.

"Well if you think it's a good idea..." Adrian seemed unsure, "We were all just starting to settle."

“Don’t worry - where we’re going, you won’t even need to settle!” With that, she added all the night elves she could see to the massive cloud above of various animals and mortals she had found along the way. Thanks to the darkness, the cloud had been hard to see, but now that it was visible, the majority of the night elves dove into hiding. Gibbou frowned. “C’mon, people - it’s totally safe! Life here’s pretty dull anyway, right? The moon’s where it’s at!”

"Well wait!"

The majority of Fragrance’s elves managed to escape, but Cilantra, Parslie and Bay were all taken away. To keep him safe, Gibbou also deposited Adrian in the cloud. Later that night, she had circumvented the rest of the world and gathered what animals and mortals she wanted. She then flew upwards through the atmosphere and out into space, bringing all the life she had collected safely with her. She brought them to her precious moon and found her favourite cave. In the blink of an eye, she twisted the stone and dust inside the cave into a great and wonderful barrow with tunnels going deep into the moon’s interior. She giggled to herself and turned to the cloud. “Welcome, all, to your new home - the Hall of the Eclipse! Here, you will all be safe for all eternity.

You have my word.”

SummaREEE!

Gibbou uses her fight money to buy two of every animal on Galbar; then, she herds them onto a boat; and then she beats the crap out of every single one.

Just kidding - she does snatch up a few of every species, though, and puts them to sleep forever in her new Hilton Hotel Luna, aka. the Hall of the Eclipse.

MP spendage

Gibbou: 1MP/0DP
1MP - Perform godly feat: Levitate thousands of animals and mortals across Galbar and to the moon safely.
2DP, discounted to 0DP with two free titles - Create holy site: The Hall of the Eclipse: Has the following title:

• Moonbound II: All non-divine life within this holy site is forever asleep unless awoken by Gibbou. Those asleep will neither age nor die, but they will also never wake up unless Gibbou explicitly awakens them. The holy site also provides breathable air, but non-divine creatures within the site's boundaries can never leave on their own accord. Once that happens, all biological processes will resume.

Gibbou after: 0MP/0DP!

Divinus: The God RP, Mk. IV

Gibbou and Neiya

---

Gibbou had traveled due south from the temple, but a temptation to check on the trolls she left around northern Toraan had veered her off eastwards. She was now in the Boreal Highlands, taking a small stroll across the endless grass plains. She really had to get back to Adrian soon - she still had no idea of how long she had been gone - and the thought of that calamity Firinn had mentioned began to itch terribly at the back of her skull now that the high of joy and love from earlier had begun to fade.

While passing through the land, she came upon an uncannily frozen lake at the foot of a mountain - uncanny in that nothing else than this very lake was frozen. She moved closer and focused on her reflection in the ice. It stared back at her, and she had the slightest feeling that something else also was staring at her through her mirror image. She pulled away and shivered uncomfortably. Something about this water, this whole area, woke to life those emotions poor Meghzaal and Lucia had spent so much time quelling. She couldn’t let herself be consumed by her anxieties and insecurities again. She had to remember her strengths, too, for their sakes. She turned away from the lake and kept moving. However, an approaching shape made her slow down and observe.

At first, the shape was but a blur, rocketing above the tree-line at a pace that was sure to shock mortals and birds alike, barrelling towards the lake from the east. For a moment, it seemed to slow down, and vanished down under the cover of trees in the distance. The sudden departure of a whole slew of colorful birds from the nearby trees tracked its position through the dense forest until finally; the mysterious shape broke through the foliage and revealed itself to the blue goddess.

It was a pale woman with blond-blue hair and horns sprouting from head and shoulders alike. Deep in thought and bearing an expression that expressed guilt and pain alike, she - despite moving quite a bit slower now - drifted through the air in a straight line towards the iced-over lake, listless feet barely brushing the longer grass and bushes as she moved at pace. If she had noticed the Moon Goddess, she had not yet made an effort to show it.

Gibbou made a frown and pondered momentarily whether to say hello - she really, really should get on with her quest. She then raised an eyebrow at that train of thought. What kind of philosophy was that? Of course she should say hello! Nothing like meeting new people, anyway, and she looked so sad! Maybe she could share a few of those kind words Megh and Lucia had shared with her? And so, Gibbou waved her hand and yelled a gleeful, “Hello there!”

The floating goddess came to an abrupt stop, shocked out of her internal distraction, and her attention turned entirely to the enthusiastic Gibbou. She seemed hesitant at first, a visible internal turmoil as she went through the exact same dilemma the Moon Goddess had - or at least that was to be assumed. It was a conflicted shyness - or perhaps apathy. Still, she watched Gibbou quietly from afar, and then peered back at the lake by which the two found themselves.

Some awkward few moments later, the goddess drifted over towards Gibbou with renewed determination, icy blue eyes settling on the equally blue goddess. Her first words were not a greeting; on approach she questioned with inquisitive distress in her tone. “Did you do this to my sanctuary?” as her arm lifted to point at the lake in a manner most befitting her accusation.

“So it’s -not- supposed to be like that? I knew the ice was fake!” She gave the frozen lake a disappointed frown before looking back at the woman with an apologetic shrug. “No, it was like this when I came, and I’m really sorry to say I don’t know who did this to it.” She shifted between the woman and the lake again. “Would you like some help breaking it apart?”

Another pause, as the horned goddess looked upon the lake and back to Gibbou once more. “...I-...” she offered with pursed lips, hesitation clear. Eventually, she simply nodded, finding words more troublesome than they were worth. With new direction she drifted closer towards the lake, eager to restore it to what it had once been. Her feet touched down by the lakeside, kneeling with uncertainty.

Gibbou nodded back and approached the lakebank with the woman beside her. She knelt down next to the ice and looked over at her with a supportive smile on her face as she raised her fist in the air. “On the count of three, okay? One…”

The pale woman looked back to Gibbou as she spoke, following her features and tracing each creasing line on her face with her eyes. It was as she hung on every word. “Two…” With the countdown imminent, she seemed to decide once more, and looked back to the lake with fresh intent. Tense and uncertain yet still determined, she seemed to hold her breath awaiting the final word.

On ‘three!’ their fists hammered the ice as one, sending a quake throughout the whole surface. The ice didn’t stand a chance - it was pulverised to slush, which melted away in the water below. While ripples trembled through the water itself, true to the lake’s qualities, the ripples faded in due time, leaving the serene pool as it had always been - tranquil and still. Gibbou blinked her wide, bright eyes at the water, whispering a quiet ‘woah’ before saying, “This is the most beautiful lake I’ve ever seen.” Her eyes stared skywards, then back to the lake. “It reflects the moon so perfectly!” She couldn’t help but squeeze out a gleeful squeal. “How’d you even find this place, miss--... Uh… Sorry, I forgot to ask your name.”

The woman righted herself slowly, lifting from the ground to resume her dubious hovering just barely above the grass. She too took in the beauty of the lake, lips parting to release an exultant breath - it wasn’t a smile, but somehow they had managed to bring some measure of peace to her previously conflicted features. When she finally turned to look at Gibbou, it was with a softer side than that insidious suspicion of before. “I-.. I followed the river. I liked it, so I made it this way.” she explained with a murmur. “I am Neiya, Goddess of Love,” there was a distinct pause, and the goddess once more managed to look conflicted. “...and loss. Thank you… for the help. You are only the third of our kind I have met.”

“Only the third? Oh, I’m sorry to hear that, Neiya - most are a nice, open bunch who’d be happy to meet you. I’m Gibbou, Goddess of the Moon and guardian of life in the night. You are most welcome for the help, by the way. Always happy to be of service.” She reached out to shake Neiya’s hand with a gleeful smile.

“Oh,” Neiya began with soft surprise. She glanced down at the offered hand, a little dumbstruck by the gesture. Still she lifted her own hand hesitantly, doubting herself each step along the way in completing the handshake. “Firinn told me of you, and something about birthing dr-.. hm.. drewdism?” Her slender hand finally accepted the handshake, cold to the touch and uncertain of the ritual involved. Drawing on previous experiences, instead of shaking Gibbou’s hand, she squeezed it gently. The ripple effect of emotions roiling within the goddess offered but a warning sensation, but other than that, it was mostly awkward.

The moon goddess felt the dissonant emotions and shrunk together somewhat. She sheepishly squeezed back, either too weakly or too roughly, before letting go. She immediately gripped her right arm with her left hand and let her eyes drop to their feet. “O-oh, he did, huh? Yeah, uh, he’s, good at… Talking. He told me some stuff too, lots of stuff that didn’t feel all that great to hear honestly. Came out of nowhere, too - like, who says that kind of stuff to someone you’ve just met, and--?” She awkwardly back at Neiya. “... Sorry, ramblings and, and that--uhm! Yeah, I’m making droodism--... Druitism--.. Bleh! Druidism a thing, yes. Did he tell you what it does?”

That seemed to throw Neiya for a loop. “...No. Like, ah, like you said. It said a great many things. I am not sure even the God of Truth understands all what it says. Only enough to push us where it,” she paused to consider, features darkening as she did. “...wants us to be? But it has a burden, just like all of us, I think. For all the beauty of the moon, I imagine not all is as you imagined it would be.” She didn’t smile, but she seemed to find a little confidence, at least. “And the moon is beautiful.”

“Heh, thanks,” came a timid reply, much of the earlier confidence lost like a needle in a haystack. “Y-you, too.” The words lingered in the air for a moment while Gibbou’s cheeks turned from plum to peach. “I-I mean… YEAH! Ahem, yeah, the God of Truth sure says a lot of stuff about the things and, and, woah! Would you look at the, uh, Moon! It’s almost… Midnight, damn it… Uh, uhm! Say, how’s the creation of Galbar going?” At the end of her sentence, she looked as though she had sprinted a mile.

The pale goddess tilted her head slowly, watching Gibbou suffer with a returning tranquility, almost as if she had rebuilt her confidence by sapping the poor moon goddess of hers. “Oh? I wouldn’t know. I spent most of my life watching the ocean, and listening to the emotions of mortals.” Her eyes once more followed the goddess with growing intensity, and her hand slowly raised once more, that unstoppable desire to touch returning. Fingers trailed towards Gibbou’s face slowly, hesitant and sedate. The moon goddess trembled slightly and seemed to look everywhere except for Neiya’s icy eyes. “Let me show you,” Neiya murmured with an enraptured tone, as her hand slid up to rest against Gibbou’s cheek, a gentle and guiding push to make her face the love goddess.

A whirlwind of emotion rushed from the simple connection, Neiya’s eyes seeming to roil with a strange storm as she shared a sliver of her experiences and feelings. The intense grief of the villagers at the riverbank, the joy of creation and the peace of the ocean - all whirling past in an instant. Finally, there was Sanya, Yaian, their loss. Their once still and happy life, torn to shreds. Their memories, and the pain that had transformed them forever. It was a maelstrom of shared emotion, memory, and context.

The moon goddess’ knees buckled under the weight of the emotions and didn’t seem to regain their strength right away. While one leg was submerged in the icy water of the lake and the other was kicking weakly against the shore soil in an effort to stand, Gibbou looked up at Neiya with squinting, leaking eyes, rivers of quartz pouring across her plum skin like a flood. She placed a trembling palm over the icy hand on her cheek and spoke in a squeaking voice choked up by tears: “Why? Why are you showing me all this?” She covered her mouth with her hand and looked back down. “Sanya, Yalan… A troll… It ate their families, their friends. It, it ate them, it--” Gibbou gagged multiple times until she keeled over completely, propping herself up on her elbows, one of which dipped into the lake. Hopeless eyes glared at the mixture of soil and water right underneath her face, half a reflection hatefully scowling back at her. “... My own creations - the ones I created to protect life on this continent… Are murderers… Mortal-eaters… And I saw none of it. Not even the raid on their village perpetrated by humans, did I see.” Finally, her elbows gave out, and Gibbou laid flat on her belly, halfway washed ashore the lakebank, her weeping painting the empty soundscape a deep blue.

Neiya followed her down at first, a paradoxically sorrow-filled fascination watching the moon goddess experience despair. The connection broken as Gibbou fell to the ground, the love goddess touched down on the wet ground beside Gibbou, flexing her hand slowly. A soft breath escaped her, and for a time she appeared lost in thought - she hadn’t expected such a reaction - but then she hadn’t known about the connection, either. With graceful motion, she leaned forward to grasp the crying goddess, and gently lift her head up against her own legs and lap, away from wet sand and icy water. She offered no words at first, allowing the air to fill with the goddess’ pain, but ran a gentle set of fingers over her hair in a serene show of comfort. Eventually, she simply murmured. “I’m sorry,” She sighed as she looked out over her lake, alternating between her vigil over Gibbou and her creation.

In her despair, it didn’t matter to Gibbou whose body she was in contact with - all that mattered was that she found solace in something - anything. The cold, shallow comfort she received from Neiya felt momentarily like that of her sister, but deeper, darker emotions stirred forth within her. She asked again, “why did you show me this?”, but her tone had lost its somberness, replaced instead by spiteful venom. “You knew it would hurt for me to see - why did you show me this?”

Neiya sat quiet for longer than what was acceptable for such a reasonable demand, hand stopping in its gentle comfort. Another sigh, bothered by their shared moment ending. “Because,” she began in answer, a confidence to her voice that made her words unfriendly. “Now you will appreciate happiness where you find it.” Another pause, as she ruminated on their shared words at the beginning of their meet. “How can you protect life, if you do not understand it? This pain is crushing, but it is also purposeful. Now you know.”

“You’re lying, aren’t you,” came a knife-like reply with a hopeless voice. “No one would extract purpose from this suffering - it’s just suffering. What motivation is there in seeing your greatest achievements bring death and ruin to mortal lives. How can I appreciate happiness knowing my creations one day will end it? No, you did this to hurt me, didn’t you?”

The pale goddess seemed to crease her lips into a thin, sad smile, though no one would ever see it. “Oh, my sweet. No,” she offered with a soft tone, “I know it hurts. It feels like it will twist your stomach out of your body. Like an itch in your bones that makes you want to scream and give up at the same time.” Her fingers began to run over and through Gibbou’s hair gently once more. “It feels like it will feel that way forever.”

She gazed down at the goddess listless in her lap, offering another gentle sigh. “But this pain is normal. It will fade - never entirely, perhaps, but you will always remember. And that will make you stronger than you were before.”

“How will it make me stronger? All I feel is weakness, uselessness… Meghzaal and Lucia, my draugs… Next you’ll probably tell me my night elves have slaughtered every living thing in Mydia and that the owlixes feast on human babies in the night, won’t you? Go on. I’m done as a goddess anyway. What good am I?” She dug her nails seethingly into Neiya’s lap. “... I’ve never been good for anything - why should that change just because you’ve proven this to me?”

The alleged love goddess lifted her other hand and gently laid it on Gibbou’s head as well, resting it gently as the other continued its gentle comfort. “You have opened your eyes, my love, and the pain has given you doubt. It hurts, and what you saw was awful. It does not need to stay that way.” Neiya bowed forward in a gentle lean, leaning over the sobbing goddess in her lap protectively. “If this pain makes you give up, how can you ever say you loved the world? Is this sorrow, this new knowledge, enough to stop fighting for what you want?”

“It’s enough to make me question what I want, that’s for sure.” There was an odd, twisted, uncanny comfort in the Love Goddess’ embrace - cruel, cold, unfeeling; and yet, it was so safe, so warm. Hatred and grief bubbled like hot grease atop a thick layer of loneliness and need for praise, love, anything to prove to Gibbou that she had some manner of worth. “You’re just like Firinn. You break me down for no reason and tell me that these feelings are supposed to make me better - stronger. Look, I’m trying, okay, but how can I achieve my highs when I’m always being pulled low by people who constantly remind me of all my mistakes?”

“I’m sorry it did that to you, Gibbou,” Neiya intoned with all the sedate comfort her sorrowful tone could muster. “Fìrinn does not-... did not experience emotion. It does not understand the impact its words will have until it has said them.” she explained, casually side-stepping her own part in the matter. “It can be tough. It can feel like the world is crashing down around you. But that does not mean you cannot find things to cherish. Moments of peace. Happiness cannot be killed, only tempered. If these things worry you so, you can find the drive to make them better. And until then, you can stay here with me. For as long as you want.”

“Give me one good reason not to get as far away from you and your, your words as I possibly can,” replied the moon goddess as a fresh flood of white tears dripped down onto Neiya’s lap.

“Because I feel what you feel. I feel it every turn of the sun. Every moment, a mortal weeps, a chorus sings inside me, of happiness, of guilt, of pain. I cannot take away your pain, my dearest, but I can help you fight through it,” Neiya righted herself slowly, lifting her gaze out over her reflective lakefront. Her hand abated it’s slow stroke of her hair, and moved to rest gently on Gibbou’s shoulder. “You don’t have to be alone in this. I am here for you always.”

Gibbou scowled up at Neiya’s face and pushed herself up slowly. She dusted as much soil and dirt off her clothes as she could, saying nothing.

Neiya parted her lips as if to speak, but seemed conflicted as Gibbou drew away. She extended her hand towards the goddess once more, hesitant. Pausing halfway, she lifted out of the dirt, slowly raising herself to hover over the ground once more. “...I want you to stay, Gibbou.” She pleaded after a time of silence, uncertainty returning to her voice.

“I can’t… I’ve been going about this all wrong. I think I understand now.” She looked down at Hir and pulled it from her belt. “No matter what I do, I always make things worse than they already were. But if I can’t safeguard life here on Galbar, I should just bring it closer to home!” She turned to Neiya with a smile - it was not a hopeful smile, but one of desperation. “I’ll bring as much of the world life with me as possible and set up a safe and tranquil home for them all…” She looked to the sky. “On the moon!”

Neiya lifted her gaze to the sky as well, narrowing her eyes as she peered at the large orb hanging there mockingly. When she looked back down to Gibbou, her serenity had begun to wash away from her features. Back came that bitter frown. That loneliness. “I’m certain you will care for them. Wherever you go. What you feel now will make sure of that, as it does me,” she breathed out sharply before snapping a last comment. “If that is what you want - then you should go. Go about your life with your new purpose.”

“I will,” came a reply. Gibbou looked down at Hir. “Everything else I’ve tried is useless, anyway.” She then tossed the horn into the lake, where it sank out of sight. She then turned her head sideways and regarded Neiya over her shoulder. “Oh, and Neiya…”

“...Yes, Gibbou?” The discarded horn was nothing but a novelty to the love goddess, who snapped her attention back to Gibbou the moment her name rang out.

“Never talk to me again.” With that, the moon goddess soared off, ready to enact her plan.

The horned goddess stared up towards the sky, trailing the moon goddess with her eyes as she rocketed away. A shaky breath left her lips, before the tears began to well up.

---

Later that day, on Whakarongo, Mydia…

“Oh, please, great World Tree, make the forest grow back,” came the nasal, squeaky prayer of Robgob the woodsgoblin. His grove had been taken by a flood, and now he was kneeling by the clear, still water where his precious trees once had grown. He opened his eyes and found, to a somber lack of surprise, that the trees hadn’t grown back. He let out a groan and pummeled the ground with a small fist.

Then something bumped into that fist. The goblin looked up and saw the oddest of things - a hollow horn, marked with tattoos and vines as if an artist had made it and left it outside to be reclaimed by nature. “What’s this,” he mumbled, “a horn of sorts?”

He shrugged. Maybe the village chieftain would like a closer look. He stood up and brought it back to the village.

---

SummaREEEE!

Gibs is happy schnappy. On her way back to her duties, though, she of course gets distracted thinking about how her trolls are doing. Strolling through Boreal Highlands, she comes across the Tearfall Lake, which she finds weirdly frozen. Enter Neiya, wondering if Gibbou froze her precious lake. Gibbou says she didn’t and offers to help her unfreeze it. The two do it together and the lake is unfrozen! They do a handshake to greet each other, and Neiya uses her emotion powers to make the situation hella awkward, which affects Gibbou, too. Gibbou then asks the worst of all questions to ask Neiya, which is ‘how are you’. Neiya responds by saying, “Lemme show you,” and then proceeds to show Gibbou all the terrible shit she’s been through, including meeting the two humans whose whole village was first eaten by trolls and then attacked by humans. Gibbou collapses knowing she made the trolls and was oblivious to the human assault, and Neiya nurses her sweetly like a psychotic… psycho. Gibbou asks what there is to be hopeful about now, to which Neiya says ‘oh, you know, now that you know the world’s shit, maybe those little happy moments will be better?’ Gibbou is not convinced and instead offers up that she’s done this whole protection business wrong. She needs to take as much life as she can to the moon to keep it under closer watch. The two of them then break up.

Oh, and Hir is tossed into the Tearfall Lake and pops up in Mydia in the hands of a goblin who was praying for its grove to grow back. Hir will now remain there for the timeskip.

MP SummaREEEEEEEE!

Wow so much no MP spent.

Prestigio

Tearfall Lake: 4 prestigios + 5 = 9 prestigios!
Hir: 5 prestige + 5 (over 10k) = 10 prestigios.