I think we're approaching this the wrong way, guys.
Amartia has two cows. He turns one into a Dagon and feeds it the other.
Lifprasil has two cows that he grifted off a generous god. He gives them away to secure loyalty.
Teknall has two cows. He appears to some rovaick in the form of a tedar and teaches them how to milk them.
Ilunabar has two cows. Meimu has five cows she keeps in a meadow, all of which are named after flowers. Piena accepts the value of cattle but doesn't own any. Notte thinks cows are boring and make dumb sounds. When I asked Chronicle whether she has any cows, she just drew a picture of one with the caption 'I do now'.
Keriss has two cows. Sometimes she yells at them. Other times she gets sad and talks to them about her feelings. They don't help much.
Tauga has two cows and the hung body of their former owner.
Toun has two cows. One is an automaton clad in porcelain. The other is a normal dairy cow, but he painted her white because the uneven black spots were bothering him.
Chiral Phi has two cows. She sasses them.
Vowzra has two cows. Having escaped from an abattoir, they spend their days in Chronos, clad in spider-silk and meditating.
Logos has two cows. That's it. Just two cows. Nothing abnormal about them whatsoever.
Tira had two cows before the incident. Now Lakshmi doesn't let her visit the farms anymore.
Shaqmar has two cows. One of them is Ailin, pride of his heart. No cow of such beauty has ever trodden the earth. From hoof to horn-tip she is the image of bovine symmetry and, in being so, the image of God's holy wisdom. What a cow. Incredible.
Jvan has two unearthly abominations that may once have been cows.
Vestec has two cows. He keeps them in the Realm of Madness treats them with surprising affection. Also they have wings. And breathe fire. Vestec, are you sure those aren't demons? Vestec, please. Vestec. Stop that. Stop that right now.
Ull'Yang has two cows. He doesn't know how they got into his personal plane, but the dragons seem to like them.
Zos has two cows and 4,358,495 fanatical worshippers.
Y'Qar would have two cows if Heru hadn't been born first. Every night he curses Heru for his cows.
This needs to be apart of the opening post in the OOC. Like, immortalize this, people.
I can change the base of the right hand side to be the same base as the left hand side. I get
log2Cow(Moo)=logmoo(2Cow)/logmoo(Moo).
If we assume that moo=Moo, then it simplifies to
log2Cow(Moo)=logmoo(2Cow).
From inspection, we can see that your equation is only true if 2Cow=CowA*CowB. This is probably not the case, unless one of the cows is equal to 2. Unless cows are dimensionless, then this 'rule' fails to hold up to dimensional analysis.
I would recommend the amendment that, instead of 2Cow, you use Cow2. This then comes with the requirement that CowA*CowB=Cow2. This is trivially true for the case CowA=CowB, but is true in other cases too. And units are preserved.
@poog the pig Eh, it all does. Mostly because the eye cant catch all the nice details of things because its in motion.
@Cyclone You thought that was bad? Howabout Gerard Butler NEVER giving up that Scottish accent of his once throughout a Egyptian film. Like, all I thought was "This is Jaime Lannister vs Leonidas of Sparta".
Bells began to ring. Their tolling echoed throughout the Great City of Umu, calling people to finish up their activities and chores. Elysium’s chariot rumbled over the city’s cobbles, drawn by a pair of her faithful Honour Guards toward one of the grandest builidings in the city. The Great Chantry of Umu was a massive complex of warm sandstone and gleaming silver, its tall spires and graceful domes crowned with lance-like points, as though to guide the viewer’s eyes toward the stars above. The largest building in the city dedicated to the Enlightened Way predated even the palace itself, and indeed most of the city itself. Technically, at least. Repairs from centuries of wars and natural disasters had probably replaced every stone at least thrice over, with the exception of a few deep chambers and inner walls. Still, the spirit of the place flourished despite the ages.
The chariot pulled up in front of the Chantry’s grand doors, a massive but perfectly balanced pair of oaken gates, heavily carved with flowing, detailed geometric patterns. A portico held up by columns twisted to resemble ivy stretched out from the facade, flanked by a a pair of sandstone Realta standing rampant with their wings spread wide and faces raised in triumph.
The throng of citizens outside the Great Chantry parted as the Queen stepped out of her chariot, followed by the soft clatter of little handmaidens hopping down at her feet. It had taken only a little effort to overcome the little one's scepticism toward religion with the lure of a new experience, and that was all the opening Elysium, daughter of the One King, needed to introduce them to the Way. It had been considerably more difficult to convince herselfto wear a formal dress for the service. Even now, the Realta constantly shifted and plucked at the simple yellow silk outfit with her magic, grimacing at its unaccustomed bulk.
The milling throng gradually fell in behind them as the doors opened to the Queen. Before she crossed the threshold, she paused to exchange pleasantries with the people who would lead the service. Elysium knew each of them as pillars of the religious community of Urumu. A elderly man was dressed in robes of silvery-white embroidered with curling, abstract patterns. The brown trim on his robe indicated his status as the Chanter of the ceremony. Next to him was Hierophant. Her robes were similar, but trimmed with indigo, denoting her high status in the Enlightened Way. As this was not her temple, though, she would only assist in the night’s ceremonies. A maiden, with skin like coppers and hair of cinammon, would lead the ceremony. She wore robes of the same silk as the other two, but her patterns were picked out in golden thread. This was Alta, the Qarqaz of Umu. The rest of the small group of clergy wore similar robes, all with different trim and patterns signifying their positions and jobs.
“I am looking forward to tonight’s service, Your Reverence,” Elysium smiled at the woman with hair of liquid cinammon.
The Qarqaz bowed courteously, as did all her retinue. “I hope you will enjoy it, Your Majesty.” The woman stood again and smiled down at the wide-eyed children clinging close to Elysium's yellow dress. “Are these your new maidens?”
“Yes, they are.” Her wards offered an adorable bob of a curtsey. “They was quite reluctant to come at first; only Akasha is very religious, I think.” The Queen offered an apologetic look, which a few of the children had the decency mirrored with a blush. “But they are open to possibilities. I hope she will learn something of value from this service.”
The Qarqaz smiled politely. “Then I will ask the Ascended to touch them with their inspiration. Provided their minds are open, of course.”
“Of course, Reverence. Shall we?”
The woman nodded and led the way through the massive doors of the Chantry. The Queen of all the World walked forward with the careful, graceful strides and practised composure of a royal appearing in public. Every motion was calculated to exude calm, regal authority. Her wards hurried quietly and timidly next to her, looking painfully aware of the number of eyes on them.
Realising she was staring at her little maidens, Elysium pulled her eyes away from him and let them wander the interior of the Chantry instead. It was massive; so vast that it could likely swallow up a certain gargantuan palace her father had told her about with plenty of room to spare. Pillars, thick and grooved with spiralling lines, stretched skyward to support the domed ceiling. The walls and ceiling of the building were covered in geometric patterns wherever they weren't carved to depict mythical heroes and historical figures long since passed on to the Road. The stained glass windows boasted epic scenes; the Enlightenment and creation of the first Realta, the birth of the first generation of humans, and the ultimate Ascension of all but… well. The windows depicted all but one. Elysium’s gaze flicked quickly to the next tall, narrow window, where a myriad of creatures – humans, dragons, Realta, and all the beasts of the land and sky alike – held at bay a vast, ruby-eyed silhouette crowned with with a mask of myriad shapes and colors.
Just beyond the doors, a large, elegantly simple fountain bubbled water into a deep basin, which funnelled it into several low, wide fonts. Elysium stepped up to the largest and picked up one of the washcloths stacked in a nearby basket to begin her ablutions. She worked slowly for her father's benefit, knowing that even know his gaze was upon her.
She dipped the cloth into the water and ran the cloth down her forehead and nose, then stooped to wipe each of her feet. Beside her, a young child squeezed her eyes shut and vigorously scrubbed her face, but looked up quickly as if afraid she would miss something. The Queen flashed a smile to the little girl as she wet the cloth a second time, using it to moisten the top of her head, then her ears and finally the nape of her neck. She deposited the cloth in an empty tub as she stepped back, making way for others while she waited for the clergy to finish their purification.
The Queen led her group to the front of the Chantry, pausing just short of the dais that was the domain of the clergy. Above them, the main dome bulged out into an apse cupping a huge statue of her father. The giant sandstone god was a caricature, a fatherly human with a short beard and a stern gaze offset by his gentle smile. His wings stretched out to either side, nearly touching the edges of the vault, and his gilded hair, though cut short, were carved to suggest the shimmering, ethereal quality of the divine. One hand was raised to rest on a massive stone tablet, upon which many lines were written.
Elysium bowed her head before the statue while the clergy, stepping up onto the platform, prostrated themselves under its paternal stare. The Queen took her place on the lone extra-large prayer mat, kneeling down with her legs folded underneath her. She could feel the maidens filter in around her.
Starting from the back, the Chantry began to fill with masses of the City. Hundreds, then thousands of congregants seated themselves on prayer mats as neatly-folded washcloths dwindled and used ones heaped up by the fountain. At last, a low, bell-like tone reverberated in the air, the Chantry’s ancient spells alerting the clergy that the service was full. Two acolytes set their hands against the huge doors and slowly swung them closed.
Elysium and her small entourage sat at the front of the Chantry, where the mats were reserved by custom for the Chosen– political leaders, aristocrats, and wealthy and influential peoples of every stripe. None, however, wore their usual ostentatious outfits or gaudy jewellery. Here, beneath the stone gaze of One King Oroboro, all the affectations of the secular world were as meaningful as the glitter of a particularly shiny grain of sand on the beach.
Soon, the sound of shuffling people ceased and silence filled the hall. All attention fell on the apse, where the clergy had gathered around the altar, facing the congregation. Smiling, the Qarqaz stepped forward.
“Welcome all, to this Shortlight service. Please rise,” she said, her voice echoing through the halls with amplification. Everyone stood up. “May the light of the stars be ever with you.”
“To guide us on our path,” the gathered peoples chorused.
“May you find your way to inner peace.”
“And reach the heavens and beyond.”
The Hierophant picked up her hymn book and turned the page, prompting the congregation to do the same with the book that accompanied each mat. Elysium flipped open the book and held it open on one hand as the Heirophant began to sing.
Unaccompanied, voices rose to join the Hierophant’s. Soft and shaky at first, people soon fell into rhythm and their song grew more confident and cohesive. By the first chorus, there were no longer many voices. Instead, there was only a single, powerful voice. It was deep and high, nasal and brassy and melodic all at once. It sang of peace and cooperation, and of love and passion in all things. Together, the congregation made the music of faith, and for a few minutes, they were as one.
As the introductory hymn ended, the voice of All gradually crumbled back into individual sounds, and those sounds died away into echoes under the high dome. The Qarqaz lifted a hand, gently motioning for the congregation to lie back down. Silence reigned for a moment, until the man in the brown-trimmed robe stepped to the front of the dais, a book resting in his hands. The other white-draped men and women retreated to prayer mats of their own.
The Chanter reverently placed the book on the lectern, opened it to a bookmarked page, then closed his eyes, his face full of sombre passion. He breathed deeply several times, then started chanting. It was slow and deep, a throaty sound that was almost a hum; soft, but pervasive. The slow tones filled the room and poured into Elysium's ears, as if poetry had been melted down until it flowed like a liquid. The haunting, beautiful tones and the man’s deep voice resonated throughout the atrium. The Queen took a glance at her little ones, who listened with a rapt expression to the soft, impassioned chant.
The spellbinding recitation of the words written by the progenitor of the Realta, her father, was not performed in the common tongue. Instead, the Chanter spoke an ancient language developed by the people long, long ago– back when Elysium still kept watchful gaze over sea and forest, and Man kept to his caves. It had remained largely unchanged in all that time, though the Empress could detect the influence of a particularly old dialect of the poetic Ekanden language in the pronunciation. The rich tones of the chant told of what enlightenment entailed, and how Oroboro – He Who Walked The Road – gathered knowledge and power from all corners of the stars to bring to them, finding enlightenment soon after.
While most could not understand the words, their meaning was not important. The focus was on the song itself; the lilting of the voice and the emotion behind the Chant. The words might as well have been gibberish, as long as it helped to calm the soul and clear the mind. Elysium closed her eyes and let the Chant rock her like the gentle bobbing of a boat at sea.
The Chant came to an end all too soon. As the echoes of the mans’s resonant words faded, the clergy stood once more and drew together to begin another hymn. The Queen felt a smile tug at her lips. The song was one of her favourites; a paean to the beauty of the night sky and the stars – her kin, alseep in the Great Cold. It expressed the hope that the singer might one night follow in the path of the Realta, finding enlightenment and ultimately Ascending to light a star of their own.
As the music died down, the Qarqaz returned to the front of the platform and gazed out at the uncountable throng that had gathered in the temple. The Qarqaz scanned the crowd for a few moments, locking eyes for an instant with Elysium herself.
'I wonder which tale she will recount tonight,' the Queen thought. She had heard them all innumerable times, of course, but the realta loved to hear them retold all the same. Even if they were but stories once told around the tribe's campfire, each one could be turned and examined to contemplate any of a thousand different facets. The Qarqaz focussed her gaze above the heads of the audience with a smile, then began the Inspiration.
“Long ago,” she began, her voice hushed yet ringing in the silence like a triumphant shout, “the great Oroboro was teaching his disciples by the shore of a lake. Arabus, father of Eskander, blessed be his name, said to him, ‘I am a powerful man, skilled in many tools, and yet I am bound to the earth. The Equgesh live in their mountains high above us, weaving rain and forging lightning. You say that our peoples should work together as one, but how could people so different from one another ever cooperate?’
“Oroboro pointed to the lake and told them a story. ‘A heron was attempting to catch fish in a lake much like this one. However, the fish were too crafty, and they knew not to go near the heron and hid deep under the water. The heron soon grew hungry and unhappy. His weeping was heard by a much larger fish, who asked him what was wrong. When he explained his problem, the large fish confessed that he, too, could not catch the smaller fish to eat; they were quicker than he, and fled to the shallows where he could not go. So they came to an agreement to work together and set about planning how to catch the fish.
“The large fish chased the others from the deeps into the shallows, where the heron could pluck them out with his beak. Together, they caught a great haul, and together they feasted; coming to an arrangement that evening, they agreed to help one another whenever either was hungry. If a fish and a heron can work together, how much more should two men?’” The Qarqaz smiled and continued. “Oroboro told his disciples that nature can yield examples of cooperation and harmony between many different animals; this is how all creatures should treat one another. All people, individuals and groups alike, can find balance and order no matter how different they seem. Cooperation and kinship can overcome any obstacle.”
The Qarqaz paused for effect, letting the story sink in. In the pause, Elysium noticed a movement in the corner of her eye. Akasha’s head began drooping downwards. Elysium nudged the chhild awake with her elbow shooting her a pointed frown. She flinched at the touch, a shamed blush springing up on her face as she met the Queen’s stern eyes. Elysium turned back to the cinammon-haired orator. The Inspiration continued on the themes of harmony and balance, with the God-Queen only slightly distracted by keeping an eye on Akasha. Finally, the Qarqaz gestured for the assembly to rise and began one final song. Like the sermon, the song was about tranquility and mutual good will, an oddly joyful tune compared to the solemnity of the ceremony.
The Qarqaz made one final address as the rest of the clergy retreated to their own mats. “As music evokes our outer emotions, let Silence and meditation bring forth our inner selves. Now is the time to pray, to think and to meditate.” Then she too knelt down.
An intense stillness filled the Chantry. Elysium settled back down on her mat like those around her, but Akasha was fidgeting and shuffling to her right, peaking at the people around her and trying to imitate their postures. The Elysium craned her head down to the girl.
“What is the matter, Akasha?” she whispered.
“I don’t know… how do I meditate?” the lavender foal asked.
Elysium briefly surveyed the sea of humanity around them, then smiled softly. “Just relax, clear your mind and focus on your breathing. Allow your spirit and mind to loosen and flow freely. Now, we must be quiet.”
Akasha nodded and finally relaxed into a comfortable posture, closing her eyes and breathing deeply in and out. Elysium, content that her maiden was using the Silence properly, turned her attention to her own devices.
At first, the realta tried to meditate. She looked inwardly, into her mind. She pictured it as a door, containing all her doubts, fears and worries. Elysium tentatively opened the door of her inner thoughts, but dared only the quickest of peeks. Closing it all off again, she pushed the feelings to the back of her mind, sighed, and started over relaxing herself.
Her meditations only went on for a short while until before she gave up on them, frustrated with her own inability to loosen up. Suppressing a loud another sigh, Elysium switched to her preferred alternative to alleviate her worries. Bowing her head, she instead focussed on picturing the stars. She imagined she could reach out and touch them; linking them, reach through them, to commune with the beings they were. Elysium slowly brought her fears to mind, and voiced them in prayer one by one.
'Father, I pray that you may help me stay on the right path as I lead my children of this world. I hope that I can have the strength to make the right decisions… and that I have made the right decisions.' The Queen found her thoughts drifting to the children, young and old, that knealt around her. 'Grant guidance to me and to her as them as they learn and grows.' There was a lull in her prayer, and she found herself unwilling to say any more, even in the privacy of her own mind. The Queen shied away from the door in the back of her mind, pushed it away from even her prayers. Yet there was still one more thing she had to say, one last request for her Father which she never neglected. 'And may I one day be worthy enough to return to your side.'
"All will be well."
She opened her eyes again, her attempt at meditation as brief as usual, and simply watched the other people around her. Up on the dais, the Hierophant fairly trembled with zeal, her lips moving in silent prayer. She flicked her gaze to Akasha, who was squirming again under the heavy stillness of such a large congregation.
Just then, the Qarqaz's voice cut through the silence, a mere murmur filling the Chantry with echoes. “The doors will now open, but you are welcome to stay as long as you wish. Wherever your path leads, may you walk the Way.”
Akasha jolted, immediately beginning to rise to her feet, but stopped half-way and looked to Queen Elysium for approval. Smiling reassuringly, she nodded and also stood up. She paused to stretch her back, relishing the feeling of limbering up even a little after so long kneeling down. The realta noticed that a great many people were already pouring out. Once upon a time, before the Great City, they’d have waited for her to leave first. But everyonewas so busy these days, begrudging even the hour or so spent in the service. She sometimes wondered why they bothered to attend at all, if they weren't truly prepared to strive for enlightenment in the first place.
As she turned to the exit, out of the corner of her eye Queen spotted the Hierophant rise from her own mat and make her way towards her, followed by the Viziers of the satellite cities. 'Jvan's soggy tits, can I not have even a single minute of peace?' The Queen stifled a groan, praying the lot was just there to pay further homage to her father. Maybe if she walked fast enough she could get out before they caught up. Or she can teleport the little ones andherself out of here, or maybe–
“Your Holiness, may I have a word?”
Pushing away the sudden urge to see if a realta's voice could physically hurl someone against the wall if she screamed loud enough, Elysium turned and gave the viziers a smile as sincere as the their reasons for coming to the Chantry. The men either accepted the gesture at face value, or hand trained as actors before rising to their stations. She bowed deeply and returned a smile of frankly sickening adoration.
“What can I do for you?” the Queen prompted, her smile beginning to flake at the edges.
Logos spends 10 Might on the Holy Site: Chantry Additional Follower Worship to be determined by Mods
Remember: the current cap on Might is 50. If everyone starts making 10+ Might artefacts, we're going to start seeing the Might equivalent of inflation. Inflation and the Might equivalent to a fixed exchange rate is going to create problems - mainly the very swift depreciation of the relative value of high-Might artefacts. So please be careful - if there's no real plot reason behind the creation of such an artefact, reconsider. Let us maintain the awesome power and rarity of 10+ Might artefacts. (Remember: a 10 Might item can potentially kill a god, imagine what it can do to planets or planetary systems).
Singularity, in a sense, predates all other weapons. Though its initial appearance occurred BEFORE the Universe was forged and the codex still written, used the beat back the forces of chaos (see; Vestec) from the Codex. It carries with it still traces of that void. It also spent the majority of existence being reforged by the Citadel.
A man has been intrigued by the goings on of this game. A man can offer many things, especially with the Great City of Braavos woefully underrepresented. A man can be many characters.
@BBeast There lies a subtle theme there: the nature of Divine vs. Mortal. One (me) could argue that Elysium is the most divine of the Demigods. She is a tool of Logos's divine power, made, not born and serves as his proxy for ruling and maintaining Arcon. When she gave the bow, she was Elysium, uncrowned Queen of all the World. What need does a God have for clothes?
But now? She is Elysium, Queen of the city-state of Umu. Like Adam and Eve, by acknowledging her MORTAL side and their practices, she has lowered herself from Divinity, at least philosophically. Its a running theme with her and Logos.
Also, hey guys. Crazy last few days. Still working with incorporating these stones for a customer but I finally have some free time. What have I missed?
Vec
kapuchu