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Invading Eldar

STATUS: The only thing better than an elf is two elves. 4 mos ago
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4 mos ago
Current The only thing better than an elf is two elves.
4 mos ago
#ZygonPower
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5 yrs ago
I feel like I'm learning to write all over again.
5 yrs ago
Roleplaying is like a fine wine. I don't get enough of it, and most of the time I fail to appreciate it properly.
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6 yrs ago
Writing is work. The more of it you do, the more you feel like Steve in Accounting is out to get you.
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In Divinus: The Deity Roleplay Mk. VI → 3 yrs ago Forum: Casual Roleplay
Valley of the Shadow of Death




"I don't understand. If the Lady and the Laughing Man had such deep kinship as you say, why did they part?" A solitary voice broke into the respectful silence of the encampment. It belonged to a snub-nosed woman with gaunt features, sitting at the edge of the gathering. The woman next to her raised her hand to flick the snub-nose's ear in punishment for interrupting, something that had already begun to spread among the elvenfolk as a gesture of admonishment.

Masol, the muscular elf who had first dared to try his hand at using words and speaking to the Lady, halted the punishment with a raised hand. The motion rustled one of the women who laid draped along his side, who sighed with irritation. "It's a valid question," Masol offered, giving the snub-nosed elf a direct look that burrowed deep and set her cheeks alight. He straightened his back ever so slightly and pressed himself back against the smooth and warm obsidian monument around which they'd gathered. Only after his right-side companion had settled back to resting against his bicep did he deign to continue. "Not all of us were present when the Lady told her tales, after all, and what she gave us on waking are more like feelings. There is of course a simple explanation for your concern."

"Is there?" Another man broke in quickly, challenging Masol's hegemony of the conversation readily. His lip was already split from a similar altercation with another group a few days ago, and the man known as Serrat was already known as a troublemaker. That did not hamper his apparent popularity with both men and women. "I was in the second row for this tale and I cannot recall the Lady ever speaking of any such explanation."

The group of almost two dozen shifted their eyes between Serrat and Masol, some more tense and expectant than others. Even though there were less than five thousand of them in total, there had been plenty of fighting the last few days, especially after the Lady had departed. Masol however remained unbothered, clawing a strand of long grass from the ground nearby to rest between his lips. "Of course. The Lady trusts us to be clever enough to hear the words and the emotion, and understand what is not said."

"And what is that?" Another man cut in from the crowd, from his sedate resting place in the lap of a woman who played with his hair.

Masol presented a confident smirk. "Why, their kinship is so deep that being together would tear the land asunder! They parted because of their devotion to the world below." His bold claim coaxed out a wave of excited breaths from the crowd, a handful of them eagerly drinking in his words with big eyes.

Others seemed less convinced by the boastful elf, chief among them Serrat who looked outright irritated. Not wanting to be outdone, he interrupted the idle chatter that followed the claim with a sharp clearing of his throat. "Ah. You mean like that. Yes, of course, everyone could see that. What is more impressive is what the Lady truly meant in her tale of the man on top of the world."

His comment earned him the attention of the crowd and the burning gaze of Masol, who watched him with a set jaw. Serrat gave him a confident smirk before continuing, eyes flitting over the crowd as he spoke. "She referred to him as the most perfectly round shape. How his gentle spirit cradled all he created. It is obvious that even now, he watches over us." Serrat concluded with firm concentration, and gestured up above to the bright light of the moon sailing across the night sky. This entirely erroneous conclusion created a smattering of awed gasps in the crowd and lively but hushed chatter as the matter of theology kept the elves intrigued. Serrat smiled with smug ferocity at his chosen opponent, and Masol did his best to remain stone-faced in this onslaught.

"Wait," a woman burst out from the crowd, hushing nearby chatter and drawing the attention of the competing men. It was the snub-nosed elf again, bursting with questions as ever. "If the Father of the North is… the moon, as the Lady called it, and the Lady left to go visit the moon…"

There was a long silence in the crowd. Serrat looked taken aback, apparently not having considered this contradiction. He glanced around the crowd and found Masol smirking at him. Despite having a clear shot at defeating his opponent, Masol instead took the chance to stand up and gesture towards the moon, stealing the moment for himself. "Indeed, the Lady has gone to court the Father of the North himself. Or should I speak his true name; Father Moon!"

As the crowd gasped and cheered at this false revelation, the muscular elf met the gaze of the troublemaker. In that moment an alliance was forged, not of reason or respect, but of mutual benefit. The deal was sealed when Serrat pushed himself from his seat in the soil to join Masol standing above the others. "Indeed! Despite her eternal kinship with the Laughing Man, Father Moon has sung to her heart with his kindness and generosity. The tales are an intricate bush, with many hidden berries for those who know to look."

Masol nodded to Serrat firmly. Together they continued to spin a story for the captivated crowd that only existed in their unspoken bond, letting the moon quietly settle over the horizon unbothered by their outrageous interpretation.



Leaves rustled aggressively as two lithe shapes forced themselves through the underbrush at the far side of the valley, stepping further into the forest that divided one of the open meadows from the valley itself. The two white-haired stalkers cracked branches underfoot and disturbed every bird, even though they did their best at being careful. They stepped into a small clearing, where the first of them abruptly stopped to pinch her nose. "Urk. This smells worse than the last one. Over here, Wyte." She pushed out with maximal pitch in her voice to elevate her disgust, squatting down to examine the source of the stink; a massive pile of relatively fresh dung. Her companion came to squat down beside her, and without shifting his expression began to poke at the feces with a handy stick he'd brought with him. The mere action made her gag and she turned her head away before pushing back up to a stand and crossing her arms. "I still don't get what your obsession with animal excrement is."

The man sighed to accompany some internal thought, and furrowed his white brows as he focused on studying dung with his little stick. Eventually, he deigned to respond. "Remember Leephe from Faukons group?"

The woman narrowed her gaze in thought. "The one who died? Sad, I suppose. I heard he was trying to touch all the women under their yarene." She muttered with no shift in her disgusted expression, subtly moving her hands to adjust her sole piece of fabric and pull down the very short hem ending at her thighs.

"I-... yes, I heard that too. But that's not why he died. I asked around, and the last thing he did was eat flowers and berries." The elf called Wyte explained, continuing his restless attempt to analyze the pile of dung. Eventually he released a disappointed sigh and motioned onwards. The two of them trampled onwards soon after. "So I thought," he continued after a time of silence. "If we can see what the animals eat, that would give us an idea of what we can eat safely."

"That's why you dragged me out here? We have food already, remember? The Lady gave us more than we need." The woman concluded with a disappointed pitch shift, pulling hair from her eyes as she battled branches and saw blade-like leaves walking beside her companion.

"Ah, but that's where you're wrong, Koulde. How many of us are there?"

"I'm not going to guess if you're going to be a waterhead about it."

"Alright- well, there are many black pillars, right? And around each of those is at least ten of us. The celestial food will last us at least seven more passes of the sun. But we had to pick it up. There's no guarantee others have as much as us. They'll come asking, or demanding. Soon, if they haven't started already on the other side of the valley."

Koulde sniffed quietly, refusing to acknowledge his words until she'd considered it properly. As such, the pair crunched through the dense forest in awkward silence for a time, until she had thought of an adequate comeback. "You worry too much, Wyte. The Lady will give us more if it runs out." It was a reasonable assumption, at least according to Koulde, who had quickly reasserted her condescending frown.

"And where is the Lady now?" Wyte rapidly replied, raising a hand to stop their loud procession in another small clearing. He had found his next piece of dung, this time firmer and less deadly to the nose.

"She went to the orb in the sky, they say. But she'll be back to give us what we need."

"You're sure of that?" Wyte continued to press just as he pressed his stick into dung in the dirt. Koulde pinched the bridge of her nose in irritation. She dared not argue the point, and refused to give him the satisfaction of further discussion. When it became clear she was resolute in her silence, Wyte spoke again. "Maybe the Lady will have returned when we leave this forest. You could be right. But if she doesn't, I'm not going to go hungry."

"Waterhead," she admonished quietly in return, but squatted down beside him to pay just a little more attention to his work in the dung.



A bony knuckle rattled along Faukon’s cheekbone with a streak of pain that shot through his eye straight up into his brain. It blurred his vision and jellified his legs. Within seconds, the once-proud elf felt the soil of the earth rub into the back of his scalp as the world spun around him. He felt the warm liquid of saliva strike him in the face as his opponent spat on him where he lay. Stunned, he had no mind to do anything but raise his hands to try and shield his face.

"By my name as the Lady's most trusted, Masol, I declare you, Surain, the worst of the worst. Word of your despicable ways have reached all across the valley. Forcing your kin to wayward acts in return for a simple meal. Forcing yourself upon your fellow zenii. You have spread such anguish that it goes against all that the Lady imparted on us." the voice of his enemy boomed above. Pain spread from his cheek and formed itself into a deep fog at the front of his head, making it hard to distinguish words, or react properly. Maybe if he just laid there, it would be okay.

A firm foot struck him in the stomach, and crippling pain bloomed out from his abdomen like a gust of rolling wind. The foot came down again. And again. “Nothing to say to defend yourself, scum? How could you use the Lady’s advice in such a disgusting way?” Another voice demanded with enough venom to foretell of Faukon’s imminent death. A crushing foot struck him in the chest, stealing the air from his body and what little power he had to defend himself. No words would come out, no movement could be done beyond protecting his face. His body was frozen in rigid pain.

“That’s enough, Serrat,” Masol commanded and the beating let up before death came. “Disgusting as you may be, Faukon, it is not up to me or my comrade.” A wave of relief ran through Faukon, but it quickly turned to dread when he realized what that meant.

“W-Wait-..” he managed with a rattling breath. It was no use.

“I turn to you now, those of you who trusted Faukon to keep you safe and fed.” Masol’s voice boomed above him, drowning out his meagre plea. ”If you have been wronged by this man, then follow Serrat’s example and judge him the only way he will understand. If you are scared he will punish you, or that you will be judged by others, do not be. Our group is large and you may live with us. None shall be forced to live in a way that demeans us. This I swear upon the Lady herself.”

A shuffle of feet inexorably followed, though there was a certain caution pervasive in the air. Faukon awaited his doom, and when it did not immediately come, his chest filled with panic, hope and cloudy thoughts. Someone would speak on his behalf. Protect him from these blinded men shouting about virtue. He wanted to defend himself, clarify the truth. It wasn't just him. It was Ila's idea, Leephe who started it - though he choked on his own idiocy five nights ago - Uglee and Treytoar who found weak-willed zenii. Even Jem was in on it because she thought it was funny. The weak people they'd brought in had accepted their fate. Done whatever was asked of them or forced on them. It wasn't his fault they were without self-worth.

When none of his companions spoke up, Faukon hoped for salvation from the crowd. One of these worthle-... misguided kin would speak. Not in his favor, maybe. It would be enough to implicate someone else. If they pushed the blame on someone else, it'd be enough to spare him from further pain. To give him time to clear his head, to breathe without suffering. But no one spoke. The quiet shuffle continued. Masol and Serrat held a hushed exchange that he could barely make out. Faukon parted his lips in a daze, if no one would speak he would command the group to attack the two fools.

Then the pain returned. Someone kicked him firmly in the side with a vengeful foot, stealing the air out of his body once more with a splitting groan. Another hit him in the right shin. His leg felt like it would fall off. Then came three more. Countless blows from countless feet, stomping and kicking and shoving. The pain made it impossible to think. He begged them to stop but his words never came. "T-Thank you… We didn't dare challenge him…" he heard a woman's voice - Jem's voice - ingratiate herself, and Masol's following assurance that she was safe now. This was wrong. This was all wrong. He wanted to shout, to beat them, to scream them into subservience. But he couldn't feel his body, and his head roared in pain.

Someone stomped on his cheek, and his blurry vision went black. Little lights danced in front of him. He felt his body shift and tumble under a battery of feet, but did not feel the pain anymore. Or had he forgotten what it felt like to feel anything but pain?

He floated in that dreamlike realm, until he felt nothing and thought nothing more.




In Divinus: The Deity Roleplay Mk. VI → 3 yrs ago Forum: Casual Roleplay
Zenia


The planet was in pain. Deities and mortals alike suffered death and misery, the ground cracked, the oceans heaved. A buzzing nest in the north drew ever more attention and others caused cataclysmic change in the west. All about the Monarch-of-All's jail, chaos and strife saw a rejuvenation. It was impossible not to notice. To feel the wave of destruction or hear the calls of pain or warnings.

That is, unless your name was Zenia. The golden-haired goddess slid over the sea at what she would consider a sedate pace, taking in the scenery from afar with a dull smile on her face while carrying the load of dormant humans she'd received from Homura. She took her time, investigating each little dot in the landscape with the same eager curiosity as a newborn kit viewing the planet's secrets for the first time. Either unwittingly or by intentional focus, the goddess ignored the cries and alarm of strife to go on her own investigative journey.

That journey led her far east, until she spied a wild land of deep forests and untouched wilderness. She sped towards it like a golden bolt of light, precariously carrying her quarry all about her. Soon after she slammed into the ground in what she considered a good distance from the shoreline, leaving a small impact crater under her feet. Content with her own landing, she proceeded to gently set her dormant humans down on the untouched landscape. Only now that her journey was done did she look up towards the dark clouds in the sky, spurred to cover ever more by ash, battle and eruptions.

"Hm," the goddess mustered, summoning all of her available internal foresight. Her grin faltered momentarily. "A little cloudy today." Her statement carried the same serious matter-of-factly tone as Homura had when lecturing her on the nature of good and evil, in Zenia’s apparent attempt at imitation. Then the goddess shrugged and her smile reappeared as though nothing could faze her. Such distractions were short lived indeed, as Zenia immediately set to work preparing a mental list of all the things that her dormant mortals would need. After studying the wildlife she and Chailiss had created - and then the cute triplets Homura showcased during their meeting - she reasoned these new mortals would need water, flora and or fauna for food, and some kind of artificial covering to protect from the elements. She glanced down at herself speculatively and considered the white rags that remained of the original copy of Jiugui’s white robes. She had torn most of it off for better mobility, and the rest was in tatters due to her adventurous explorations (and crashing into things). The goddess hummed in idle appreciation, dreaming up improvements to her makeshift tunic as she tapped her chin, working her mind hard to consider all the possible designs and how the mortals would like them, based almost entirely on how Courage, Fear and Kindness had acted during their meeting. So deep was her thought that day turned to night and back to day again without the goddess noticing, before she finally broke out of her daze with a confident hum and a fist of determination clapping into her hand. She had - in her opinion - solved the equation of neolithic fashion. First however, she had to attend to the other matters surrounding the mortal awakening.

The golden-haired goddess skipped away from her collection of dormant humans to find herself a good high point in the land. Squaring her feet firmly in the soil and surveying the landscape of nascent greenery, she lifted her hands towards the sky and beckoned the hills and valleys to come alive with the same force she had called upon in the north. ”I know you’re, like, eager to shift and grow! It’s time to get going!” she coaxed the land smugly, and stomped her foot. The land beneath her groaned and shook as her divine might suffused itself in the dirt, and around her small buds and lean stalks of grass grew mighty and tall, warping to respectable trees and underbrush. The hills groaned and rocked, lifting the landscape to create new hills and mountains. Zenia impatiently stomped her foot again, and the ground beneath her splintered and cracked, giving way to a flood of water that rushed down from her perch to fill new valleys and flee outwards towards the faraway coast. Zenia pointed at random points in the landscape with an accusatory finger that silently suggested ‘shooting’ the place in question, and wherever she pointed, the ground cracked and erupted to give way for large lakes to form and rest.  

Content with the shifting landscape doing its own work after her cursory intervention, Zenia once more departed to leap far south. Rather than create animals out of thin air, she reasoned, she could just borrow some and let them adapt. So that’s what she did. She took scaly many-toothed reptiles as big as herself, furry things that looked super cute, long and thin wriggling ropes that bit her arms when she grabbed them, some birds that looked very pretty, and some kind of tiny rodent that somehow seemed the most powerful of them all. This journey of grand theft fauna was erratic and hasty, carried out with all the powerful genius of someone who makes things up as they go - which was exactly how Zenia operated. It took many trips of jumping back and forth, landing in different places each time, but eventually she was content she had displaced a sufficiently large amount of animals for them to adapt and survive - probably.

With her main goals mostly accomplished, Zenia finally returned to her dormant humans where she’d left them, now safely nestled in a gentle valley with a stream of water running through it, and cradled by a safe barrier of woodland and mountains. She clicked her fingers together, and shimmering cloth covered each of the sculpted mortals in their sleeping state, a perfected variant of her own homemade tunic that was made of a glittering warm fabric. Each got their own pattern in lieu of names, made up on the spot by Zenia from a mix of all the flowers she’d seen and could imagine on the fly. With that done, the golden-haired goddess took centre stage among the dormant mortals, raising her hands to feel the field of souls surrounding her, and taking it upon herself to awaken them. She’d make only light edits to Homura’s original design, she told herself, as she let her divine energy flow into the nearly four-thousand sleeping humans. The animals she’d permanently borrowed communicated in high-pitched frequencies and trills, so Zenia naturally concluded it would be very beneficial for these mortals to be able to hear such otherwise difficult-for-average-dull-minded-mortals to pick up. She altered their ears both for directionality, high-frequency reception, and physical shape to accommodate this new biological quirk. Further, due to her declaration of teaching them to fight for good, Zenia reckoned these mortals would need both the capability to perform great feats and the fortitude to remain able to perform the tasks required of them. Thus she imparted upon their form a natural aptitude for athleticism and the love for physicality that was deep-seated in herself. To give them fortitude she imbued them with a tinge of divine energy that would keep them youthful and hardy even beyond what would normally be their typical expiration date. Finally, she turned their hair white because it was pretty and it went well with her designed clothes.

With all her changes implemented, Zenia exhaled slowly, breathing life into the reshaped mortals. The first elves began to rise from their slumber, confused and wary. A grand awakening commenced, scores of waking mortals rising from the ground to examine their surroundings, themselves, and their compatriots. The goddess swelled with pride as her army of good began to take shape, the first step of fulfilling her promise. Opening her arms wide, she uttered a decree that could be heard for many miles. ”Arise, guardians of all that is good and valuable. Children of Homura, awaken now to, like, begin your fated purpose - to defend against evil and, uhm, you know, other bad things that are no good. Erh… So! Rise! Meet the dawn with pride, for under your lady’s care you shall know all-... things and learn to celebrate… uh, life!” Zenia pressed both hands against her hips, standing proud amidst her freshly awakened elves. She expected an uproarious cry of celebration, a clear ambition to face the world and begin the party of a lifetime - an appreciation of the act of being brought into the world. Instead there was mostly silence. Someone coughed, which started an epidemic of muffled coughs and sniffs. There was some awkward shuffling, with big eyes beholding the valley around them and Zenia in particular. Too impatient to wait, the goddess pointed at a particularly muscular zenit who had been peering at her, causing him to shuffle his white hair out of his face and tuck it behind his ears. ”Yes? Don’t be, like, afraid! I can see you have questions.” she coaxed, and the zenit cleared his throat and tugged at his slightly too small tunic. The simple act of being pointed at made other elves around him clear the space around him, big eyes watching the goddess and the man.

The man rubbed his ear and frowned, sizing up the goddess and his kin with some wariness, before finally making an attempt to talk. “...You are our lady.” He concluded crisply, and Zenia nodded eagerly. “Homura…?” 

”Oh! No,” Zenia immediately shot in to clarify. ”I am Zenia, the goddess of revelry! Homura is, uhm, the mother of mankind? And she, like, made you. And then I, you know, like, changed you and gave you a home - this valley and, like, everything around it, and a purpose.” Even though they were freshly awakened, newly shaped, the word goddess had been imparted with some small shard of Zenia’s power, and many of the gathered gasped in reverence. Some bowed their heads. Others knelt, or just sat down. The elven man nodded slowly.

“Zenia. Lady of the Valley. Do I have a name?” He questioned soon after. A few oohs and aahs came from those crowding around them.

"Oh. Well, like, Homura’s mortals had names like, courage, and kindness. You know, like, how you are as a person. So your name could be, uhm, Muscle?" Zenia pondered out loud.

"..You honor me, Lady of the Valley, but I'm not su-"

"Come on, Muscle! Stop hogging the goddess! Do me next!"

"No, me!"

"Can my name also be Muscle?!"

A hundred voices flooded over the conversation as more and more elves found their voice, and their confidence. Zenia laughed heartily, and answered each in turn by striding among her new people and touching each of them, giving them each a unique name almost as swiftly as word and basic language convention spread beyond what knowledge she had imparted upon sharing her essence. She begun with distinguishing features, but began to struggle with unique ones after twenty. At eight hundred and ninety she had exhausted body parts and color combinations and flowers and instead begun to craft elaborate combinations like Red Rose, Tall Nose, and Stinky Toes. When all the elves were named, there was only a single common denominator; all of them were dumb and crudely cobbled together by Zenia as she delved the depths of her imagination to mete out proper names. Fortunately, due to the massive crowding and Zenia's hasty and shoddy work, nearly noone heard their proper name, nor fully understood the context of the words, and instead interpreted their names in elven variants like Reyrose, Talnos, and Stientose. Those that heard their name, like the much maligned Muscle, simply lied and came up with something better as day turned to evening, or subtly twist it to fit the crowd. Before Zenia had returned to her starting point, Muscle had convinced the kin closest that what she actually said was Masol.

When nightfall came calling, Zenia taught the elven men and women to make fire, or at least she tried before she realized she also did not know how to make fire without divine power. Instead she relied on her divine essence and raised countless black obelisks for them to huddle around. These tall obsidian monuments shed enough heat to keep the valley comfortably warm in a sizeable radius around each of them, and Zenia diligently encouraged huddling together and cuddling as methods of socializing. She created food for each of them out of divine energy - she'd teach them to hunt later probably.

It took time, but the newly awoken mortals took to her ideas, and soon the elves were giddily discussing their own existence and the wild events of the day, most of which for them amounted to standing around or wandering off and almost drowning in the river. 

Zenia had founded a people. The reality of such a burden had yet to hit her, as she lay back in the grass and grinned lazily.

Jiugui would be super impressed. 







In Divinus: The Deity Roleplay Mk. VI → 3 yrs ago Forum: Casual Roleplay

Jiugui


&

Zenia




Cartwheels were the optimal mode of transportation, of this much Zenia was quite sure. It was fast, fun, and kept the breath going in an above middling pace. It's only drawback was that spinning heedlessly towards a distant planet made it difficult to count properly. Combining that initial need for focus with all the shouting and racket going on below and above, Zenia had found herself hesitant in her counting twice, and as a result she was no longer sure if she truly was at cartwheel number thirty-two thousand and four, or two numbers below or above. That was before she even added all the unknown number of cartwheels she did before she even decided to start counting.

When another shout about beholding this or that wonder of creation threw off her count for the third time, Zenia decided she'd had enough and halted midway to the prison-planet-waterball below to take a small break. Just in time too, as soon after a massive wave of light captured the orb in a dreamlike display of pulsing light that travelled over the surface before returning whence it came. The bright moving lights were almost enough to distract from the truly massive tree that was hard not to see from her vantage point in space. The easily distracted goddess lounged in place, starstruck by the magnificence of light, explosions and shifting mass that went on below, eyeing the warping orbscape with enthralled attention.

"Ish crazy, ishn' id?" came a blurt from her left followed by a burp and a slurp. A small man stood there, white robes flowing around his form except for over his orb of a belly, where it was tight as a stretched skin, and not without great amounts of dirt and dust to dull its colour. The man knocked down a cup's worth of clear liquid and bared a brief snarl of spotted teeth. "Makesh a man wanna drink, dunnit?"

"Oh, for sure!" Zenia agreed with enthusiasm after a brief startle at the man's sudden appearance, or possibly just his general appearance. That enthusiasm did not linger, as the goddess scrunched the scarred fake face she wore in growing confusion. The nascent goddess worked hard to spin the wheels of thought, but eventually she simply asked; "Drink what?"

"What else?" asked the man as though Zenia had just inquired as to whether water is wet. His little cup refilled itself seemingly from the bottom and he knocked down another shot. His face stiffened into a pensive frown and he spoke,

"Be I sad or stuffed with mirth,
No sight like this is matched on earth.
Set foot, I do, on duty's path;
To work, I go, with hearty laugh."


His frown became a grin and he slurred, "Sho wash yur name, misshey?"

Delighted by this display of philosophy and creation, Zenia beamed back at the drunken scholar with no sign of apprehension at his slurred mannerisms.

"Oh, totally! How rude of me. I'm-" she began, pointing at herself with a confident thumb, but then caught her by surprise and left her confused. She eyed the strange material covering her arm and realized she still wore the appearance of another deity. Clearing her throat, the goddess grabbed her face and pulled, and with a soft rip her entire appearance came loose like a torn sheet of fabric. Beneath was a golden-haired woman with striking eyes and unblemished gently tanned skin. She shook the dangling fabric that had been her previous appearance, and it evaporated into small particles of dust. Finally, she took inspiration from the drunken god himself and swept herself in a white cloth. Confident her true self was restored -though she'd never looked like that before- she pointed at herself again. "The name's Zenia! I'm like, so glad to meet you."

Jiugui eyed his cup skeptically after taking in the change of appearance. With a staggering movement, the little man spread his stance clumsily and, with effort, managed to bow forward without tipping over. His futou flopped sorrily as he nodded his head an inch deeper for that extra sign of respect before he catapulted his back up again with enough force to nearly send him tumbling off into the abyss. "Pleasshuret'meetyoo," he wheezed as he swung his arms around to regain balance. "My name!" Wheeze! "ISH!" Then silence. The man eyed her intensely with head bobbing along to the rest of his body still regaining it's footing. "... Jiugui." He held his cup up and affixed his stare to its rim, which slowly revealed a sheen of liquid, most of it spilling over the edge. "Whass you doon?" he asked to whomever was listening.

"Well," Zenia began, turning to sweep out a hand towards Galbar. She promptly turned silent as her hand caught inside her too-long garment, being a direct copy of Jiugui's, and spent a good minute and a half fussily trying to shake loose the long sleeve from her arm. Eventually she grew frustrated, and simply tore it at the shoulder, ripping the entire sleeve off in one swift motion. She stared at her arms for a second before tearing the other sleeve off as well. Finally content, the blonde goddess nodded firmly and repeated her dramatic sweep towards Galbar. "Well! Everyone else is doing all this like, exploding and creating and wave-making. I figured maybe I should also, you know, make something! But I don't know where to start. Or what to make. I don't think the big-timer gave me, like, one of those, uhm, you know, like something you got to do?"

"I gozza do things?" the drunkard blurted out like the inconceivable truth that it was. His beady eyes fixed on the world below, where land rose up from the abyssal seas and cosmic powers coalesced into magic storms all around. He blinked with worry and grimaced hard, trundling back towards the Sunlight Palace. "Oof, iz brighz…" he conceded. It was enough to have him turn back and furrow his bushy brow. "Zzzzo, uh…" He snorted sheepishly. "Whaz, uh, whazzit that the ozzers gozza, gozza do, then?" He cast out a pointing finger at the world below. "Issit like that?"

Zenia bought herself some time to answer by preening her hair and sliding a slew of it behind her ear. "Uh, yeah. I think so. Like, we have to, you know, go down there and fill it with fun things that the big-timer will, like, enjoy. I think. To be honest I didn't catch everything but that looks like what everyone else is doing!" she concluded with a quizzical lilt of her head, and took a few steps towards Jiuigui. Immediately on moving, she caught herself in the new fabric and stumbled, face-planting forwards - or she would have if there had been anything to plant into. Instead she spun nearly a full circle before righting herself and groaning. Another soft rip later, she'd torn off the lower half of her clothes to end just above the knees. With that done, she finally moved up to peer at Jiugui closer.

"What's the thing on your head for?"

The question fell flat as the creature was much too occupied laughing his holy tuckus off. He rolled around in the nothingness like a red-speckles white ball with limbs, spilling wine all over like a fountain. The goddess peered at the rolling catastrophe of wine and cloth with a bemused expression for a few moments, stewing in the moment with naught but quizzical embarrassment to hold on to. Then the dam burst and Zenia joined the laughing gremlin in a cheerful and boisterous guffaw, happily sharing in his mirth without any inclination of what had transpired prior or would in future. Just two gods laughing, like a freak festival exhibit of village idiots. After a good while and then some more, the drunk god could hardly breathe. He snailed sloppily into a sitting stance and had another slurp of his cup, unleashed a small pee-yew. "I roll in the duzt foyoo, funny lady," he gurled approvingly. "You'n me, we gozza host a parzy some day." He clapped. "Whadda show!"

Zenia broke from her own happy madness to gasp an exultation, "You're a genius, Jiugui! Of course!" Entranced by whatever sidetrack she spun into, the golden-haired goddess paced back and forth in front of the sedate Jiugui as her mind raced at breakneck speeds. Her own conclusions came soon after, and she clapped her hands together confidently to announce her new resolve. "I have a great idea! We, like, split up and look for the perfect place to have a party, and then we meet up to compare ideas! That way, we'll like, find a great place twice as fast."

The man grinned. "Yeah! Two thumbs way, way up." His thumbing hands pointed down to the world and made a groggy gesture towards the equatorial islands. "Okay, buzz that! is juzz divine. Exquizzide. Trropigal parzy for the whole crew'n whazznod…" He bumbled on with some incoherent mumbles. "I will heaz… Oi… I will HEADZ…" Urp… His beady eyes squinted at the world and blinked unevenly. His lips farting pensively on his tongue, he spoke, "I will head dhere."

"Great! Then I’ll, uhm…” Zenia began, idly pointing with her finger as Jiugui stumbled away, though none of the places she pointed at seemed particularly enticing, what with swirls of power, shifting landscapes and giant explosions. Was it so simple that Jiugui had chosen the best spot already? Her eyes transfixed on the far north of the planet, where an expanding swirl of energy was erupting in white and grey. "Uh! There! Yep! I’ll start my search from the top, obviously! Oh, wait. How will we like- Jiugui, wait! How will we find eachother again?” she called as she broke off from her idea to head after the drunken stumbler. It was too late, however: The man was already gone, and in the world below, the faintest speck of white could be seen falling towards the equator like a tiny, spinning meteor, a clear trail of wine droplets trailing him like a comet tail.

Zenia had to think fast. That was like her best trait, if you asked her. That, and coming up with fun ideas. Those two, and hosting amazing parties. Those three, and- She shook her head, trying to steer back to her original thought. She quickly grabbed hold of the discarded fabrics and molded them to become a hardened silvery metal in the shape of a circle with spokes shaped like her arms reaching out from the center. Molding the center, she added the inscription ‘Zenia awaits’, before throwing it after Jiugui as best she could. It would probably land close by, and he’d find it easily. Who else would ever find such a thing other than someone looking for it, after all? Surely no one else would ever pick it up and wonder what it meant. Especially not knowing that it would pulse with the same rhythm as her heart harder the closer it came to her. Jiugui was smart, he’d figure it out.

Nodding to herself, Zenia watched the hand-sized medallion fly after the drunken god as she sighed contentedly. Soon after, she sped away towards her own chosen destination, eager to find her ideal party place.





In Divinus: The Deity Roleplay Mk. VI → 3 yrs ago Forum: Casual Roleplay
Zenia


Among the chaotic emissions that was the Monarch of All’s grand expense of effort, as well as the building crescendo of nascent deities escaping the prisons of their previous non-existence, one shard among the many drifted silently through the void. It careened away from the bridge with the sort of heedless abandon that only inanimate objects could, threatening an existence wholly consumed by traveling the darkness of the beyond for all time.

Then, as if willfully rejecting this fate, or perhaps responding to the sounds of unfolding chaos of divine action, the shard vibrated. At first, it was but a simple tremble, the rustle of porcelain when someone bumps the table. It did not remain that way for long; the vibrations grew wild and intense with worrying speed. Soon it shook like an earthquake unto itself, and the edges of the shard grew blurry. The energies contained within dissipated from it like a roll of thread unrolling itself into the void of space, until the contours of the shard were so fuzzy and intangible that it now resembled a simple flurry of jagged, shifting shapes and expelled particles. It grew and grew until finally it expanded a final time, accompanied by a loud boom that rang through the void. Silence did not return - instead where once there had been quiet there was now an ever present buzzing, a hum, several melodies, the hint of laughter, concentrated deep within that shifting haze of colour and contours.

This jumble of contours whizzed and zipped erratically through space, changing direction almost at random with brief exception for heading towards the sounds of other divinities when next they made a sound. Eventually the shape seemed to decide upon the fixed placement of the Monarch-of-All as He orbited the watered prison. With a vibrant hum this unwound and vibrating ball of divine yarn sped towards its creator and those few gathered in His presence, making the journey in reality-breaking speeds.

The mess of color and sounds came to an unstable halt around the small congregation before the Monarch, and hummed a sequence of thoughtful but discordant melodies. It took in the gathering deities in a way that only a humming cloud of materia could, before beginning to vibrate profusely once more. The energy gathered and congealed quickly, taking form once more; not as a small shard, but as those gathered before the Monarch. First it appeared to take the silhouette of Aethel, only to warp into a half-proper image of the stoic Zelios, and finally turning into a near-perfect copy of Ruina, down to the mysterious scarring that marred the nascent goddess’ face. The copycat cooed and hummed, inspecting her own work and arms before grinning to the others.

Wearing Ruina’s face, she bowed deeply to the Monarch in a motion deep enough to be mocking the idea of bowing, before giggling with unbridled mirth and testing her new legs by spontaneously righting herself and kicking up in a spirited jump for joy. What followed was an unedited verbal stream of consciousness. ”Yes! Let’s go! This is gonna be, like, great. I’m so excited! I already have so many ideas that would be totally amazing. Bright things. Fluffy things. A shiny thing that goes ‘ting!’. Zenia is on the mission! ...Zenia? I think I’m Zenia!”

She lounged around expectantly for all of a second. When it sunk in that her display did not immediately spread cheer, the copycat Ruina shrugged her shoulders and took a running start - in space - towards the prison ball and escaped the congregation with a mirthful laugh. It took her about three paces to start trying to do cartwheels all the way down.

Either way, she left her creator and siblings in the dust, looking like someone else and trying to beat her own cartwheel record of zero.





In Divinus: The Deity Roleplay Mk. VI → 3 yrs ago Forum: Casual Roleplay
In Divinus: The Deity Roleplay Mk. VI → 3 yrs ago Forum: Casual Roleplay
In Divinus: The Deity Roleplay Mk. VI → 3 yrs ago Forum: Casual Interest Checks
Cool stuff. You have my blessing and my interest. <3
In Divinus: The God RP, Mk. IV → 3 yrs ago Forum: Advanced Roleplay
The Sundom Reborn I




”Climb Eesis, climb!” Lucia shouted, panic in her voice. She was chasing after the two furious avatars, whose battle rocked the heavens. The force waves from their blows were causing the wind to scream but Eesis, the giant Leon, was resolute in her charge. These were her winds, after all. Even now, as she climbed the winds grew less and less but they were nowhere near close to the two. They had shot off towards the distant mountains and Lucia was determined to reach them.

She knew not how long it had been now, but the red glow on the horizon was a tell tale sign they would not reach their destination before the sun set but she had to try. She had to-

The horizon erupted beyond the mountains. Lucia shielded her eyes and felt Eesis give a rare mewl as she turned her head, veering to the left. Her heart began to beat fast and Lucia looked out on the horizon as the glow resided. She felt only horror now. Something had happened, something terribly wrong.

She instinctively reached out to her mother. "Mother! Did you see that!"

Lucia expected a reply but none came for a long time. She began to worry again before she was assaulted by intense emotions. Those of anger, pain and regret. It was enough to make her audibly gasps and clutch Eesis tighter. As quickly as the emotions came, they were gone.

"Mother!" she screamed raw, tears welling in her eyes. She tried to send positive energy to Oraelia, not knowing if it would reach her. She felt useless.

It was in that moment however, that Lucia began to put things together. The two avatars were fighting. The bright flash had to be a giant explosion. Could they kill one another? Was it even possible? And then her mother would not reply to her, in fact, all she received were negative emotions. Lucia shivered as her heart dropped.

Solus had been killed, hadn't he?



It was Sanya and Tevuri who met her in the courtyard as Eesis landed. Nisin also sprang towards his mate as Lucia slid off and to the ground. Sanya was by her side in an instant, wrapping her arms around her in a bear hug. She melted in that embrace, returning it in kind even when she knew what would be said next.

"Don't ever do that again." Sanya growled with brimming anger in her voice.

Lucia could have protested, could have said it was to protect her but in this case, she would admit defeat. "Okay, I'm sorry my love. I was caught up in the moment. It won't happen again." she nuzzled her face into Sanya's neck. She heard her warrior sigh, grip loosening but still tight.

Sanya leaned her own head on Lucia's and moved her arm up to caress the back of her head. Lucia shut her eyes and let the rhythm of Sanya's fingers relax her. "Good." she said in a quiet voice.

Tevuri cleared his throat and then said, "Forgive me Lucia, Sanya, for disrupting your moment but we have a problem." Lucia reluctantly pulled back from Sanya, still be held tight by her partner, and looked up at Tevuri. "What's wrong?"

The Cardinal frowned, a rare sight from even him. "When the flash subsided, several of the Oraeliari heard cracks. Upon further investigation we found, in several places, that there were cracks in the stone of the Castiel, and the light… It is fading. What… What happened?" He asked.

Lucia took a breath, looked to Sanya and then back to Tevuri. "The flash of light, I think it was Solus. I believe he was killed."

Tevuri seemed to deflate, going pale. "By Oraeliara… No…"

"Worse, I tried contacting my mother and the only thing I felt in return was pain, sorrow and anger. Solus has died and it has hurt my mother." her voice broke and she felt Sanya pull her closer. Lucia did not resist.

"What do we… What will we do now?" Tevuri asked, looking to the ground.

"I… If the Castiel is fading then we will have to leave. We should go east, towards the mountains to make sure the land is safe. There is no telling what other damage they wrought." Lucia said in a sullen voice.

Tevuri looked at them. "What of the Dunan conflict?"

Sanya's grip tightened in a brief squeeze, enough to signal her affection and decision to butt in before Lucia spoke. With a sharp sigh, the typically quiet warrioress spoke. "Humans will always war, Cardinal. It is what they do when the tribe grows large enough. Helping the people left behind by the conflict is the best we can do unless we are keen to choose a side. As for the Dunans.. they were blind three decades ago. Nothing has changed." As customary lately she looked the taller Oraeliari straight in the eyes as she talked to give some dauntless weight to her words. Lucia knew she was a divisive figure - a few winged allies found her abrasive. Just like every other place, Sanya made herself the outsider in time. "Going east will mean walking into the heartlands of the dunans' enemy. Wherever we go, I doubt we can rely on rulers."

"We still have to try. Solus is… He was part of my mother and so am I, so are the Oraeliari. We have to make sure his demise did not spawn any other unfortunate events." she leaned her head against Sanya's neck again. "Please?" she whispered to her warrior.

Sanya exhaled sharply and raised her hand to hold Lucia's head close to her in an attempt to offer some meager comfort. "No doubt people are going to be fleeing raiders, bandits, forgotten beasts even before we take this new event into account. The people will need help. Just because we leave does not mean we need to turn the disaffected away. Do you agree, Cardinal?"

Tevuri nodded. "Of course. We should strive to help any in need, regardless of their circumstances. We shall need to find a new place to call home though. To Shepard this lost flock."

"He is right." Lucia murmured. "We will have to find some new place to go. But for now, we should depart at once." she squeezed Sanya again and then pulled away but not before planting a kiss on her cheek. She then looked to the Cardinal, hands on her waist. "Cardinal Tevuri, we need to take what we can from the Castiel. If you could instruct your Oraeliari to do this, I would be grateful. Only what we can carry for a long journey. Sanya and I will see to the artifacts, the pilgrams and the Joyfs."

The Cardinal nodded once more and departed at once with a flap of his wings. Lucia then looked back at Sanya and outstretched her hand. "Shall we get started my love?" she said with a smirk and wink. Sanya scoffed quietly and offered a mere twitch of her lips. It was enough, when one knew how to read the ancient fighter. Without a word, she moved to take Lucia's hand and squeeze it.



It took a day to get things in order. The Oraeliari worked quickly and with efficiency, gathering everything that could be taken and storing it large rucksacks. Much of what was being built at the Castiel would have to be left behind as try as they might, they could not take everything. Sanya and Lucia had the much harder task of persuading the pilgrims to leave. Much of them were distraught at the fact the Statuette was going to be taken. Most called it a betrayal of the deal and try as they might to show reason, the hearts of men and the hopes of women were not so easily dissuaded. Most left the Castiel proclaiming that the Dunalands and Westfold and everything in between would hear of this. A few chose to follow them wherever they might go.

Sanya assured Lucia that if anything came of it, they would deal with it then and there. Their next task was gathering the Joyfs who had not left with their queen and giving them owners so they could be looked after. There were many happy people despite the looming dread.

That morning the two donned their armor, had their belongings on their backs and the artifacts in hiding on their persons, they were ready to see what the east had in store. As Eesis and Nisin flew up above, Lucia had decided to walk, much to the relief of Sanya. It was also good news for the few non-Oraeliari among them, who also needed to walk. As a procession formed, it became clear that many winged mortals chose the same venture in support of the Sun’s Daughter, while others followed from the sky, acting as scouts and guides.

With the Casteil mainly picked clean, the long caravan of pilgrims, Oraeliari and supplies set forth towards the east. A solemn and uncertain affair, kept together by the stern determination of the Cardinals, and the unflappable readiness to face the known openly displayed by Lucia and supported by Sanya, The once grand keep was left quiet and hollow, with cracked and faded stones where Solus once mighty influence had now faded - a mournful monument to the vanquished giant - and was left to be used by those in need of shelter, both human and beast, eventually to be reclaimed by nature.

The path east followed the natural outcroppings and cliffs of the dense dunan landscape, where cleared valleys of beautiful meadows interchanged freely with difficult terrain - thorny bushes, sharp rocks and steep cliffs. The same terrain that had made the Casteil a strategic centrepiece now worked against the caravan travelling by foot, the path forward not always clear. The Oraeliari were superior in this regard, and between their capability to trace a path from above, and help bypass particularly dangerous areas, they still managed to keep a good pace. Few hints of predators like hydras and wolves were seen as well - even those animals who had been reported to be more ferocious and bloodthirsty of late made themselves scarce when Eesis and Nisin patrolled the sky above.

Even with a clear sky, flying scouts and a steady pace, it took just under a day to negotiate the landscape and reach Conmeadh, the nearest peasant community on their journey east. For them, sightings and interactions with Oraeliari had become a part of daily life, and both Lucia and Sanya had personally visited the village before. When they learned that the entire host was travelling east, never to return, the approximately four dozen villagers and farmers packed up their households and joined the caravan. There was no option - they made it clear they desired to follow Lucia, and those few wary among them quickly closed ranks when they realized the birth idol was still in their possession. So the whole caravan settled for the night, helping scavenge the supplies and tools of Conmeadh to make place for them among the travellers. Humans and Oraeliari working together with a unified purpose.

It was then in the quiet of camp, a chill breeze coming down from the north that Sanya found herself wrapped in a blanket with Lucia besides their fire. Sat in the middle of their growing procession day by day. Lucia was quiet, staring into the flame. Sanya knew that look of hers, it was one of deep contemplation. Of thoughts that she wrestled with. Sanya would not press it yet, for Lucia would confide in her eventually, as she always did. Still…

Lucia yawned and stretched her limbs as she got up, kissing Sanya on the cheek. She wandered off to bed, leaving Sanya next to the fire. The warrioress watched her slide off silently, before resolving to watch the fire. She wondered how many nights like this it would take.



A full week passed in their journey towards the mountains. Though they did their best to navigate and contact villages as they passed, sending Oraeliari scouts to speak with those they did not pass close to, fewer and fewer country folk were willing to pack up and leave. Between deeprooted druidic belief, old animosities, and promises of protection from the eastern tsardom, only a scattered few joined ranks, more akin to luck-seeking stragglers than villages keen to escape the natural disasters and war. The only guarantee was Lucia. Interacting with the daughter of Oraelia was a sure way to convince all but the most stubborn westfolder, and even a few whitecloak druids managed to slink into the growing caravan. There was a growing rank of violence-seekers as well, people wronged by Dunan grudges, or trampled by passing warriors, that pledged their service in transparent hope of conflict down the line. These scant few troublemakers found themselves under Sanya's command in all but name, as her stern promises to keep people safe at any cost seemed to both frighten and appeal to them.

Even with fliers in the air, news of their travels seemed to precede their presence, and a mere nine days after setting out the first advance scouts came from the northeast; two figures on boarback lined up on the horizon and followed them for nearly a full day before vanishing behind a hill. Still, the procession pushed eastward.

On the twelfth day, Oraeliari scouts began reporting a strange taste in the air, and ash clinging to their wings as they flew across the countryside. Indeed, the next village said the same. The eruption of the mountain in the far east had not affected them much, but it was noticeable even here. They learned of a great shockwave that had set trees ablaze and knocked down buildings. The villagers told them to turn back around. Yet Lucia was resolute in her decision. Stubborn even, and they pressed on still despite the warnings.

Beyond that ominous warning lay the grounds for doomsayers and panic. Animals grew increasingly wary, to the point that the following farmers started complaining when their pack beasts infrequently required several minutes of cajoling to keep going - it was a dark sign of what awaited closer to the devastating monument in the east, and the dark cloud that continued to grow around it like a festering wound in the sky. Its' dominion over the landscape soon became clear; oraeliari scouts reported a strange whitening of the ground, and flecks of grey and white gripping their wings.

The next village was empty. Structures were toppled or burnt down, and the homesteads had been ransacked of all worth. Whomever had once lived here had fled, been taken, or otherwise abandoned their homes. Soon after, the ground shifted from its green and brown untamed beauty to a pale sheen. A grey and white coat that silently fell from the sky to paint the land in hues without color. At first Sanya thought it looked like snow, a sentiment echoed by others in the procession - but she had seen ash before, just not in such an overpowering quantity. It covered everything, like an invasive and inescapable layer of dust. A blanket of death, heralding with it a growing difficulty of doing even mundane tasks to keep the procession going. Scouts could not fly for long before their wings were weighed down, grass and bushes were covered with flecks of ash, and even the paths once trampled for safety were becoming hidden beneath a layer of grey.

It turned to fateful evening when the dark became blackness before them that two scouts returned to the camp with news, a great band of lights was heading in their direction, like pinpricks in the dark. They would arrive by morning at their current pace. Lucia thanked them for the news and bid them eat something to keep their strength up. She said little else but returned to the confines of their tent where, with a few soft words, they went to bed awaiting the morning.



It turned out all those lights were people. Refugees leaving their dying lands, the fiery mountain sealing their fate the moment it had erupted. There were thousands of them, all lost and afraid. It broke Lucia’s heart to know what had befell them and she could not shake the feeling that she was in some way at fault. Perhaps if she had gotten to Solus faster or prevented him from leaving… Regardless, she now felt responsible for them. Here were people that had lost everything and they needed help.

Near midday Lucia called a meeting with all of those who retained some sort of leadership. Elders, wise men, matriarchs, and those who others believed in to do the right thing. Many came and many listened to Lucia with only a few outright refusing to acknowledge her. She told them of the calamity of the mountain and she heard their testament. As the ash piled ever on Lucia knew what she had to do. Get these people to safety in a new land. One that could be good to them and they to it. There were shouts and angry voices, many not wanting to leave their lands but the reality of the situation settled in. No one was safe anymore. Not here. Not in the Dunalands or even in the Westfold at large. It was time to return to a place Lucia knew in her heart as her first home. For home now was wherever she was with Sanya, who stood by her side constantly. By that night it was decided by the majority, while a few slinked off in great anguish never to return with their people, the time to move further west was at hand.

It was time to return to the Sunlit Temple.

Later that evening Lucia returned to the tent with Sanya and it was there she faltered.

She sat down on their bed and sighed, rubbing her chest. She stared off into the distance but spoke all the same. "I don't know if this is smart Sanya. I don't know… I… I feel as if there is a weight on my shoulders and in my chest. Like someone is pressing down and in. I feel so…" her voice faded to quiet as tears began to wet her face. "I'm scared." she looked at Sanya, eyes wide and trembling.

Sanya came to sit beside her then, arms wrapping around her trembling form with swift but respectful grace. "I do not claim to be smart, either, but I know what these people need. They need hope, a new chance at life, and someone who will lift them when they cannot. Wherever this path takes us, it will be better than here. To give them a perfect life is not your burden, but we can save them from damnation." Sanya sighed, and leaned sideways to place a soft kiss on Lucia's forehead as she pulled her in. "Wherever the road takes us, we will face the challenges together. Wherever we can, we will do right by the land. I am with you, my beloved Lucia."

Lucia melted into that embrace as silent tears fell down her cheeks. Sanya's warmth was like a beacon to her, a pillar of strength against uncertainty. With it she felt as if she could fly. "I love you, you know? More than anything else in this world, Sanya. You give me strength in times of doubt. You support me when I'm falling and keep me up. So thank you, my Sanya. My greatest and true love. I love you." Lucia whispered into her, before pulling away and kissing those lips that still made her heart beat fast. She could stay with them forever if she could but she knew better. "I'm glad you're here with me, I know I don't say it enough. It will be a daunting task before us but my worry fades, I have you to lean on after all." she smiled and went in for another kiss.



The journey took months with so many hungry mouths to feed and as word spread of a final pilgrimage to the Temple, led by Helgen Lucia herself, more and more joined them. Where once was a small band became thousands as they trekked across the dunalands, avoiding the war and only fighting when necessary. And when it did come to a fight, with the Oraeliari's help, many could be healed of sickness and injury. They took from the land when they had to and gave back in return, planting seeds from the Luminant and beckoning them to grow.

Lucia and Sanya leaned on one another as the daunting task of creating a nation lay before them, but together, they could accomplish anything. And they would.

When the trees and rock at last gave way to fields of tall grass populated by blazing stags and humble Leon's, anticipation began to well up in the host of followers. They were at last nearing their destination, where the golden grasses of the Prairie kissed the Highlands proper, merging and living in harmony. The Sunlit Temple was spotted at last by the Oraeliari scouts, who said it was sparsely populated, with a few villages here and there. The temple itself only had a small following still as many saw the place as sacred and it was left mostly untouched. Mostly.

By nightfall they arrived before her old home and Lucia felt a sense of calm wash over her. It was good to see it again, still as splendorous as it was the day upon her birth. Indeed, it remained intact and whole, only chipped here and there and in some places there were cracks, but the power invested into it by her mother lasted. A small band of elders and a couple cardinals approached the winding path that led up. Clothed in druidic white with golden tattoos on their faces was a small band of three men and two women. Their skin tones were darker then the average highlander and one was of prairie descent in entirety.

"Greetings travelers, what brings you to the sun kissed temple?" A man with a grey beard stepped forward, in the setting light she had a hard time seeing his details but she knew he was older.

Lucia stepped forward, having long cast aside her armor for simple garments and a traveling cloak. She put down her hood and the caretakers murmured. "I am Lucia, daughter of the sun and I have returned to my home, seeking a place for my people to settle down and live in peace from the horrors of war to the north."

They knew who she was, for with great awe in their eyes did they bow. The old man spoke quickly now, his regal voice full of warmth. “Lucia! Oh great Lucia! Welcome home!”

”Please, there is no need to bow. I insist you treat me as any other if you can. We have much to discuss and I need sound minds for the days to come.” Lucia said, standing a little straighter. Sanya walked up next to her and stood by her side.

The druids straightened themselves out and looked at her expectantly. It was the old man who spoke up first. “Humble Lucia, I am Tinero and behind me are Dalf, Katarina, Ugo, Ia and Mump. We have taken care of this temple for as long as anyone of us can remember, hoping that one day you would return again. And here you are.” Tinero smiled, “Come, come let us talk and eat. You must be hungry.”

Without further words, the group began their ascent. Lucia took Sanya’s hand as they walked side by side, waves of old feelings began to stir up inside her, as they usually did. It was so long ago that she arrived there, where she was born in a world so different then it was now. There were no great conflicts or people to worry about or wars to deal with… Just peace, happiness and love. Perhaps they could return to that, in time.

As they reached the temple proper another wave of nostalgia hit her and she squeezed Sanya’s hand, feeling it returned as Sanya briefly leaned into her. The interior was much the same, stark white with a pool of sparkling water. It was clean and smelled of citrus and fruits. Rooms had been constructed out of clothes and furs, where those that took care of the place dwelled. More furniture had been brought in, along with tables and things that brought comfort. The druids brought them to a quiet area and they all settled in for a long talk. With Sanya at her side, Lucia told their tale and her plans for the future. Elders and druids spoke alike about their concerns and ideas and it was well after the sun had come up that their moot was finished.

Lucia and Sanya found themselves overlooking the prairie from the temple. A warm breeze ruffled their hair and brought with it the smell of rain.
Lucia turned to Sanya and she turned to her. ”Are you ready for our greatest adventure yet?” Lucia asked.

Sanya pulled her in for an embrace and settled her forehead against hers. ”Of course my beloved. I wouldn’t want it any other way.”

There was silence as they gazed into each other's eyes and those old familiar feelings of peace and happiness returned to Lucia, as they always did when she was with Sanya. Her comfort and home. It was anywhere with her.

”Perfect.”







In Divinus: The Deity Roleplay, Mk. V → 4 yrs ago Forum: Casual Roleplay




Yaerna was bored. It wasn’t that she didn’t have things to do; the black sludge covering the landscape after her and Algrim’s battle with the extra-dimensional abomination still needed cleaning up, the realm could use a real push towards proper growth, she could create any number of species to seed new life and a full ecosystem. Furthermore, she needed to learn the ins and outs of her new perch at the top of the Pillar of Vines, the full maze of twisting vines that each led to their own outlooks and artificial branches. There was a lot of exploration and planning and hard work to do. Well, hard for a mortal, but it’d require some effort at least. The problem then, was that the restless flutter in her arms and legs didn’t make her jump at any of those. They all sounded boring. Like work. Like something that needed figuring out and adjusting and fine-tuning. No, the mere thought of it made her loathe the idea of getting to work fixing the world. It went against her nature, or at least her fickle interest in having fun.

The world should sort itself out, she had planted vines and seeds and roots, and they were spreading. She just had to wait for them to spread and for the forest to grow. That couldn’t take more than two-three decades. Four, maybe? Then it’d spread over the next.. several centuries.. and animals would migrate, eventually, when it was liveable and sustainable. Probably only a few dozen decades…

Yaerna groaned with frustration, kicking the air as she dangled her legs off of the side of the massive tree. Waiting sucked. Doing these things sucked. She wanted to see the fruits of labour now. Preferably without having to work for it. She sighed, leaning back to cast a forlorn gaze across the landscape. Once more, something shone in the north, stealing her vision towards the horizon. At once, Yaerna remembered her pledge to explore the world beyond her own bleak landscape, and drew a long breath. She waited for someone to bring up how she should probably finish what she was doing before heading off to see new sights, but since she was alone there was no one to offer such rational insight. Content with her freshly made choice to abandon Algrim’s specially constructed pillar, she pushed off from the massive ‘tree’ and into free-fall. Effortlessly her body shifted to that of a large bird of prey, and she flew north without a thought to her prior engagements.

From the air, such a journey took no more than a handful of hours, a pointless measurement for an immortal being, especially given her predilection for observing new things. Soon enough, the goddess touched down in a crystalline land where large gems and beautiful yet imposing crystals jutting out of the ground in incomprehensible patterns. Yaerna turned herself back to her humanoid form and walked the shining landscape for long enough to lose track of time, watching the strange and captivating crystals in their endlessly varied and chaotic patterns. It was so foreign to anything she had experienced before that it took her breath away, yet filled her with wonder. Not only that, but the land was unmarred by the folly of builders and homesteaders - the sign of a truly great place.
When the wanderlust again began to grow too great in the goddess again, she resolved to bless this empty land with a touch of life. She did not know or care whether sentient life could ever manage to make such a curious place their home, but it remained a wild place no matter how inhospitable. As such, Yaerna scooped up a selection of small crystals, dirt and salt. Consumed by the fickle urge to create, she shaped a set of crystals into small canines with long, crystalline tails and a reflective fur that would pick up salt and gem alike. She threw clusters of salt into the air and they took the shape of long eels that navigated the mystical properties thick in the air from the crystals to remain afloat. She made broad-pawed big cats, with thick claws to leap and burrow and a crystalline body that shifted colour to suit the landscape. Finally, she made scuttling crystalline shrimp that fed off of the salt and gemstones, and in turn would be hunted by others.

Satisfied with her first foray into creating something entirely fresh, the Queen of Thorns once more turned into a bird of prey and abandoned her creations to see more of the world.

She flew east, eager to take in the expressions of the world; she was not disappointed. It turned out much of the shard was already a marvel of creations, with spreading life and wonder taking root. She spied many a creature, countless new plants, and even some things that she made a mental note to hunt in the future. All in all, Yaerna took it upon herself to fly and explore, and let such a fulfilment of her curiosity take as much time as it required.

Eventually, on the far eastern side of the shard, she found herself hovering over a bleak patch of land amidst a green on each side (and red on one). When she lowered herself to the ground, she found it inhabited mainly by the resistant weed that seemed to be infecting most of the world, ripping up soil and digging itself into the ground, but even that seemed to struggle here, in a forgotten corner of the new world. Yaerna took it upon herself to adopt this struggling bit of land, deciding on her own authority that it needed her creative help and passion. Inspired by all that she had seen, and her own experience as ruler of the wilds, she planned a future for a place for the first time. Her hands rose as she gripped the cordgrass with her mind, and all around her the plant began to grow. She shaped it into massive vines and liana, the smallest of which was as thick as her arm and coiled far away in a chaotic mingle with its kin. The largest vines grew firm and hard as tree-trunks, as they erratically lifted and snaked over the landscape at such a size that a man would be able to walk on them. It was a literal jumble of vines, liana and underbrush, with no seeming rhyme or reason to a lesser creature, beyond the natural difficulties it would present for wildlife. Almost satisfied, Yaerna opened her fist quickly, and all at once the woodland grew spikes, thorns and prickly blades, all sized appropriate to their placement. The thorns on the largest of trunks were almost as big as Yaerna, the smallest no larger than a needle. Everything had them, though, from the smallest fruit plant to the largest walkable vine. They were sharp as well, specifically made to grievously harm the unprepared and the reckless. Content with this dangerous landscape, Yaerna filled it with animals. Fruit bats, climbing marsupials, snakes, mammals that scurried between the large thorns to hunt the other creatures. The only rule she followed was that all the wildlife was smaller than the largest blade of a plant. These creatures navigated the deadly wood unhindered by the large thorns, and those foolish enough to injure themselves on the smaller would be easy prey for others.

Content with her creation, Yaerna walked her new landscape for a time to watch her wildlife adapt to the new setting, a ‘forest’ she would come to call the Razorwood. She caught her cloak on thorns numerous times, adding to the tattered rips in her clothes. Eventually deciding the landscape was more or less perfect as it was, she once more turned towards the sky.

She did not know how long she had been away from the west, but maybe it was time to go back. The dread she felt about fixing the place up did not creep up on her this time. She had had her fun. It was time to get to work.




In Divinus: The Deity Roleplay, Mk. V → 4 yrs ago Forum: Casual Roleplay




The Falcon promised safety. Community, survival, order. Once, there were many sanctuaries, dedicated to one day returning the Falcon to its former glory. The legends say that each of these sanctuaries were hidden like this one, but that they cooperated and spake with one another across vast distances. Then the world began to tremble and crack, and the Falcon’s nests were lost. Only this nest was known to remain; the learned said the Canon of the Ancestors described their own nest as impenetrable, built to withstand an eternal and constant revival of the Falcon’s strength. It was the heart of the once powerful Falcon, a stone vault nestled deep into the world’s earth, with thousands of eggs from The Land that Was - countless people biding their time in returning the Falcon to its glory. So the stories went. The knowledge to interact with the shells had been lost long ago, and from the outside they appeared all but impenetrable. Over many generations, attempts had been made to open them both by force and by cleverness, but the Falcon’s eggs were unassailable.

Eventually, the shaking of the earth doused the lights and killed the crops. Though the land above was no better, it was enough to open the nest to keep the eternal watch going, and feed the wardens. Generations passed like this, struggling through cold, heat, upheaval and despair. When the dark times called for rationing and starvation, the gospel of Dr'Anya counseled who would live on, and whom to pair with whom. When there were disagreements, the commandments of the original watchers dictated all actions, to interpret and put into reality by the learned who still could read the ancient symbols. Most of the Canon had been lost when the lights died, but much of what had been lost was retold eternally between the learned.

Ezza was not one of the learned. His life was simple but hard. As one of the most physically able, he was limited to the upper levels, only brought down amidst the great Kollnel's sanctuary when the strange and terrifying creatures from below slipped through the cracks in the foundation and threatened the nest. His eyes were not fit for the holy texts, nor for reading. No, his life was to hunt, scavenge and scrounge whatever meagre gains could be found out in the waste-plains of the broken world. That was why he could never live below. The learned feared the vile blackness of the broken world would cling to Ezza's skin, and follow him into the nest and poison the others. It was a lonesome life, marred by despair. The only salvation were the others, equally banished to the surface to care for the colony. It would all be worth it one day, when the falcon's eggs hatched countless of his kin, and they restored the Falcon to its former glory. He kept that thought close in his mind; it was the only thing that kept him going after seeing the absolute chaos and derelict state of the world.

"Isn't this Kati's knife?" the voice of Mawk, his current hunting partner broke Ezza out of his daze. He glanced over to the blonde and dirty man to see a well-worn half-rusted blade. It looked like one of their makeshift combat blades, crafted by the learned after the Canon's instructions. It had the deep notches of Kati's approximation of her name. Sure enough, it was hers. Ezza looked around further.

"Tracks. Going towards the Great Beast site. Three days, I think," he noted, squatting down to touch at what were clearly human tracks. Preserved by the vast nothing and unpleasant chill.

"If she's gone past the Great Beast then chances are she froze to death," Mawk grunted, sealing the knife away.

"Think the beast bones would be enough to make shelter?"

"For this long? She'd be out of water by now, even if she could stay warm."

Ezra rubbed at his cheek before pulling old fabric back up over his face. "Still, it's what, half a day to the Great Beast. Cutting it close. We owe her to look, right?"

Mawk's face was covered with the rags of a falconet uniform, but even then his grimace was easy to tell. "...Yeah. To hell with Kollnel and his cynicism. He doesn't know what it's like up here."

The two men nodded at each other, and set off towards the bones of the Great Beast in the distance. The land was dark, hostile and prone to violent upheaval, but theirs was a life attuned to such. Each life lost was another life condemned to the surface. They were like a family. Ezza and Mawk wandered through the darkness for hours, spears kept close as they listened for cracking ground, rampant creatures, or falling stone. About halfway to the Great Beast, a mirage seemed to play for the two on the horizon. A splash of green in the midst of the bleak hellscape. Neither of them could make heads nor tails of it, and the two scavengers proceeded towards the strange sight with caution. Tall wooden beams rose from the ground, with vegetation spread around them like bubbles and shields. Thick green ropes twisted around each of the thick wood logs, and slowly crawled along the wasteland in a circle around the green glen, spreading vegetation at a slow but steady pace. Ezza had never seen anything like it. He had seen plants, mushrooms, but nothing on this level. Something took hold of him. A fascinated curiosity, and he hurried deep into the green wonderland to the distant objections of Mawk. To Ezza, it made sense to push deeper into this marvelous new place; surely Kati would have done the same if she had seen it from a distance. It was only logical that they look properly. Bramble, branch and root crumbled and snapped underfoot as he noisily made his way into the dense green land. Around him, he heard the rustle of life and saw hints of animals dancing away from his loud advance into the safety of the trees.

Then, all at once, the brambles and branches ended, and his foot hit soft moss that squished under his hunter garb. The centre of the green mirage was a large clearing, where a bubbling brook of brown transparent water poured away into unknown parts of the forest. Something moved, and Ezza stared straight ahead. A shape clad in a cape of moss, vines and tattered fabric shifted in place, raising pale arms towards their head - upon which was a skull not unlike that of the creatures they'd hunt, with great antlers stretching the sky. The skull shifted, proving to be naught more than a mask, and the humanoid lowered it off their head slowly. Blonde, stripy hair cascaded freely, and as the pale figure turned to glance at him, Ezza felt confusion bubble up inside him. Her pale face was familiar, but her eyes followed him with an expectant, almost predatory glance.

A rapid crack of branches followed as Mawk pushed through the green, and appeared beside Ezza, short of breath. He took one look at the pale woman in overgrown rags and burst out in disbelief. "Kati? What has happened to you? Where have you been?"

The woman looked at him instead, and moved her lips briefly. As if mimicking his method, practicing speech. Then, she responded. "I'm unfamiliar with that name. Are you looking for someone?"

Mawk began to protest, but Ezza raised his hand to his comrade's chest. There was a distinct likeness, but something was wrong. She was too tall, her features were slightly different - more regal. And she was more athletic, judging by her arms. Ezza took the opportunity to interject instead. "Who are you?"

The woman put the stagskull helmet aside on a rock beside her, and instead lifted a gnarled wooden circlet with brambles and small vines twisting around it. Neatly and with faux elegance she nestled it upon her hair, allowing them both a curt, thin smile. "My name is Yaerna. I am the Queen of Thorns."

"The queen of thorns?" Ezza replied, wracking his brain. It was some manner of title, but he didn't know any title like that. Only the titles of the holy came to him, like Sarjent and Majer. "What does that… entail? How long have you been here?" He chanced eventually.

The woman gently righted her wooden crown before extending a hand out towards the green. "I rule over my demesne, as any queen would. I have always been here. Ruling my territory."

"That's a lie," Mawk interjected swiftly, holding up his spear. "I come this way often, and this is new. You are on Falcon land. Your 'rule' threatens the nest."

"Falcon land? Curious," the woman professed in turn, and extended her arms. With but a feather taken from her tattered clothes, a bird winked into existence, flapping and spreading its wings as it settled on her arm. Though they had never seen one live before, there was no mistaking it, it was a falcon. "You misunderstand my words, noble protectors. My demesne is not limited to this patch. It extends beyond what your eyes could ever see. Deals in notions beyond your understanding. I rule the falcon, and the falcon rules the skies."

Ezza stood amazed, but Mawk seemed to take the act of miracle as a threat and launched into the clearing towards the mystical woman, his weapon raised. She waved her hand, and his hardwood spear twisted and turned slack, before releasing a sharp hiss that caused him to drop it. His spear slithered away, now a six-foot long snake with a speartip shape for a head. Ezza dropped his own spear before the same fate befell him.

"Young man, you are in the court of your better. You can kneel and introduce yourself properly, or you can suffer the consequences." the woman professed with curt tone, never quite losing her temper but appearing displeased all the same. Mawk looked dumbfounded, so Ezza took the chance to step in beside and kneel down properly. He waved for Mawk to do the same, and the man relented eventually, though kept his eyes on the alleged queen.

"I am Ezza of the Falcon," Ezza offered briefly.

"Mawk of the Falcon," his companion intoned gruffly.

"We are hunters for the nest. The others rely on us for food and safety. We watch, and wait for the day of return. We do not mean you harm, Queen of Thorns, but ah, you bear a likeness to one of our own.." Ezza explained further, hoping this meagre explanation would avoid more of whatever witchcraft she held power over.

"Hm. Protecting the roost, then? An admirable but defeatist goal. A bird of prey that sits idle waits only for death. Spread your wings. If you pledge yourself true hunters like your namesake, I shall teach you what it means to truly live as a hunter."

Possibilities rang through Ezza's mind, as he tried to decipher what she meant. "We… we cannot do such without the word from our leader, Kollnel. We do not make the rules."

The woman scoffed. "Disappointing. Very well," she pressed out between thin lips before reaching out with an arm towards them, holding out the large bird of prey for them. Mawk stared in disbelief, but eventually lifted his own arm and the live falcon scooted over to his arm. "Give my regards to your leader, then. Do not return unless you wish to join the hunt, and lead a life truly free."

Ezza stood up, just in time to feel something constricting his feet. Mawk cried out beside him, and Ezza looked down to see the moss and vines below rising to swallow them both whole, encircling them and the bird alike with breakneck speed. Ezza barely had time to struggle before it covered his chest, his eyes, his mouth. It was dark. Misty. Cold. Like a forced, unpleasant dream where nothing would ever change. And just as swiftly, he found himself on the hard dirt of the wasteland. He gasped for air and stumbled to his feet, and quickly turned to see Mawk do the same. His companion flailed his arm to brush himself down, and as soon as he lifted it, the brown and white falcon descended elegantly from above to sit back down on Mawk's arm. Ezza looked around and saw the green snarl of forest grow behind them. The vines on the ground just about reached them, as they continued to slowly tunnel forward. Still, the forest of green seemed larger than before.

The two men stared at each other for a long while, and the bird, before silently moving back towards their nest in the mountain. Confused, tired, and a little battered, they looked anxiously back towards the green oasis of tree and vine, and it seemed to follow them ever so slightly as it expanded behind them.




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