Goldeagle1221

Grisaille Genesis

I'm here to perform actions and suffer the dreadful consequences.

@DracoLunaris

A trooper.

Grisaille Genesis

We're on.

@Oraculum

I'm eager to see what sort of character you cook up this time, especially since unnameable horror is off the table.

Grisaille Genesis

I am absolutely interested. Would you like us to start working on CSes now or hold off?

@Lexicon

You can start working on them now if you'd like but there won't be too much of a rush until I get at least three more signing on before I make an official OP. Starting now might be a good idea though, since this will have limited space! Thanks for your interest!

Grisaille Genesis

@dracolunaris
@oraculum
@adorablesaucer

Grisaille Genesis

THIS IS AN INTEREST CHECK.

Grisaille Genesis

Credit

Grisaille Genesis is heavily inspired by the game “Kingdom” created by Noio and Rawfury games. Knowledge of the game is definitely not a prerequisite but merely an inspiration point.

The Gods of Pertovia were partially inspired by the Riyria Chronicles

This game will focus on several main characters and countless side characters all at the control of the players and your story telling whims -- but what is the game? Well, here is the hook.

You are an inhabitant of the island of Pertovia -- I would say island nation, but it hasn’t been a nation for as long as anyone could remember. It’s a large dark land filled with secrets and covered in temperate forests, with many a mossy ruin and ancient dwelling. Long ago any semblence of true civilization was mysteriously struck from existance and what you can only assume was its replacement took precident: The Filth.

The Filth is a collective term for all that is wrong with Pertovia. Rings of black stone shuttle strange portals into existance and every night, hordes of strange monsters spill out to collect from the people, bypassing those who learned to wallow in the dust, but breaking down the walls of the brave few attempting to restart civilization. The Filth has been known to kill leaders, smite those with ambition and otherwise keep humanity in the darkness.

Over the years many have tried to right this wrong, or to unlock the secrets of the past, but none have been successful. It is rare to find a written work catalogued by one of these heroes of the past, even rarer to find someone who can read them, but oral stories are strong, if not carefully guarded as secrets. Crowns used to denote the leaders of yore, and some say certain crowns have escaped the claws of the Filth. It is rumoured that whoever discovers these crowns and wears at least one on top of their head, the people will flock, and civilization can start anew… however it is also said that other… more terrible things will also flock to these upstarts. Who will be the kings and queens who lead us back into the light? Will it be you?

You better hope so, because your character has found a crown on their travels through the woods. Whether you wanted it or not, you are now in possession of one of the most coveted items in Pertovia. Is it magic, does it do anything? No idea, but it is a symbol, a symbol of hope, and a beacon to the weary. It is now your duty to either rebuild civilization and unlock the story of the past, or die trying.

This story will focus on your characters going through the drama of setting up a civilization while battling the Filth and studying the past. There will be drama, there will be dives into ancient dungeons, there will be ruins and strange artifacts, there will be seiges, and there will be many a conflict. This is all done through you, the player. While your main character will be the crowned one, you are allowed to use and make any side character you wish, while I play everything else, including the Filth. This is narrative based and collaboration is encouraged. Skies the limit, and if it helps any, your technology level is aesthetically the end of the 11th to early 12th century. OH! Also, rumors have it that the main land is much… much worse off than Pertovia. Start small.

While making and using extra (NPC level) characters is encouraged, you will start off with a single main character who is a cut above the rest. For that character, you are required to fill out a character sheet, and in the case of their death or leave from the story, you should fill out a new sheet for your new main character or replacement. Please check out the ‘stats’ hider in the CS before filling out anything else and write whether your character is selfish, altruistic, or some scale in between in their personality section to show that you have read this.

Character Sheet

If you want to use a photo, put it here!

Name: Person McName
Title: The Example
Age: Newborn Baby
Appearance:

Person is a male bipedal hominin with no defining characteristics and is completely broke

---

Personality and Background Information:

Person is jealous, easily angered, and is at a cross with his creator. His fury stems from his brief birth for the single purpose of being an example for actual players… etc Please include at least three personality traits to help you characterize your character (I.E Cheerful, Nihilist, Contrarian)

Stats and Skills(It’s not what you think!)

Six-by-Five tier stats. These stats do not define the personality of the character, nor will they have much room for change. They are simply the base psycho-physical attributes of the character, and will likely not play a large part in the story except in circumstances where we need to compare the character in a dubious situation or otherwise ensure the character is not breaking their mold. Zero is not an option. Write your character’s favorite food in their personality section to show that you have read this. Please note my use of ‘man’ in the following list is due to me not wanting to write out “Woman/Man” or “Person/Human” each time.

Points to spend: 15

Physical

Might: The output of the body, and how much strength it can deliver.

1. A child among men
2. A man among men
3. An athlete among men
4. An olympian among men
5. A legend among men

Coordination: The skill of the body, and how reflexive, accurate and precise it is.

1. Reflexes of a tree
2. Reflexes of a man
3. Reflexes of a cat
4. Reflexes of a mantis
5. Reflexes of a cobra

Fortitude: The input of the body, and how much stress it can withstand.

1. Skin of paper
2. Skin of skin
3. Skin of leather
4. Skin of bark
5. Skin of stone

Psycho

Intellect: The power of the mind, and how well it absorbs and recalls information.


1. The slow
2. The average
3. The quick
4. The smart
5. The scholar

Wisdom:The skill of the mind, and how well it applies all forms of knowledge to a solution.

1. Stumped
2. Straightforward
3. Insightful
4. Wise
5. Sage

Willpower: The truth of the mind, and how much stress it can withstand.

Weak of will
2. Will of will
3. Plenty of will
4. Strong of will
5. Paragon of will

Skills and Training:

Before he became an example, Person was actually a fletcher and thus is handy with the bow and arrow as well as with craftsman tools. Who knew?

A Travelers Guide to Pertovia

So you want to visit Pertovia, do you? Of course you don’t, you live there! -- but in case you’ve forgotten the key points about the dusky old island, let me remind you…

… it isn’t a well kept secret that while most of the land’s inhabitants had given up on building a proper civilization out of fear of the Filth, there is a few smatterings of what may be called ‘cities’ or at least glorified refuges that have historically either held off the Filth adequately enough or rebuilt themselves fast enough to still exist. The three most important to know is the refuge of Illistair -- City of high walls and angry people, Jornorston -- Refuge of questionable religion and a strange lack of Filth (The obvious kind), and Kendles -- The damned town, where life is short but as fulfilling as you may get in these dark times.

In case your forgot your manners after you left your mother’s camp, the Pertovians do have a set of dieties that have trickled down through the ages thanks to oral tradition and the rare leaflet. While there may be more, including regional dieties, the most common are The Four:

Teid the All: said to be the creator of the world and the other gods and the most contradicted in mythologies -- as some say they were slain by the other gods, others say they rule over the other gods, but most wonder what they did to deserve a world like this.

Parrel the Queen or Steward: depending on how you feel about Teid being dead (if anything at all), Parrel is either the Queen or the Steward, patron of health and care. She is said to look after your home and your family -- but the eagle eyed cynic may question this when observing the Filth. Self proclaimed practitioners of medicine often swear by her, and she is said to swear by their concoctions.

Ligdon the Wild: Ligdon is a mixed bag, just like the other gods of this pantheon. He is the caretaker of the wilds, as well as the proctor of virtue and other good moral qualities. He is the lord of the brave and right hand of the hunter. According to some, he and he alone is guiding the faithful through these most horrid times; often charms are made in his name to help fend off the filth or protect hidden caches… in some ways his name is a beacon in the dark. However there is a dark side to his coin: it is a resounding myth that during one drunken night after the largest hunt ever commissioned, he had become inebriated with lust and forced himself upon Parrel, bringing us to our last god.

Oorick the Hated: Pertovians are rather honest, and this Gods name says all. Oorick is the bastard spawn of Ligdon and Parrel as well as the harbinger of moral corruption and tragedies. Often depicted as a bubbling mass of everything that should never have been born, Oorick is often the target of everyone's hate.

As expected, having these four gods as your top of the line administration is rather depressing, but so is Pertovia right now -- I think that is the most important detail to keep in mind right there when visiting -- or rather living there.

Let’s cover one final thing regarding Pertovia: Law. There is none… but that doesn’t mean you can just do anything you want! While there is no official law, there are expectations and they are exactly what you think they are. That said, those large enduring settlements may have a thing or two to say if you break one of their expectations, so be mindful of where you are and look for bylaws -- which is a pain since most of you if not all of you can’t read, and hardly any of them are writing.

FAQ

Q: Wait, if there are four of us and four crowns, who is the main protagonist and who is the de jure ruler to be?
A: All of you are the protagonists and as far as government is concerned, you figure it out.

Q:How do we start?
A: Well, you recently stumbled across an ancient crown, marking you for death by Filth or renown by creating a civilization and unlocking the past. Take that, run with it and if you get stuck -- there are three others running around with crowns, that’s a talking point. If you are still stuck, well there is always me.

Q’s the mood of these RP, you’re acting pretty silly in the OP
A: It’s a rather serious RP oddly enough, with a lot of underbelly themes and impacting points. That is not to say a little light heartedness or wholesomeness in the face of abyssal darkness isn’t appreciated, but try to keep it reasonable to the theme.

Q:Is there magic?
A: How about you start digging up the past and figure it out on your own? There is plenty of ancient ruins and structures -- artifacts aplenty.

Q:Okay, but can my character use magic?
A: Maybe, but definitely not right now.

Q: Wait, if reading is rare -- how do you expect us to do any studying about the past?
A: You’ll figure it out.

Q: Can characters die?
A: Yes, but hopefully this won’t be a character death fest. That said, it’s best not to suspend belief so plot smart.

Q:So what sort of player are you looking for?
A: One willing to write a story for quite some time, put in some good posts and to be interactive with the world around them. There is a lot to uncover and really our story can go anywhere from here. If you are reading this, please put your characters most memorable moment at the bottom of their CS.

Divinus: The God RP, Mk. III. Finished in Record Time™!

**wet noises**

Divinus: The God RP, Mk. III. Finished in Record Time™!

Rainy Noodles at Sundown

Starring Snake and Sleepman

Wooden wheels ground over wet cobble, creating a dull grinding sound that challenge the wash of the gentle rain. The night sky was inky and the air was thin but cool. Gentle lights flickered from glass covered torches, challenging the darkness and illuminating a small wooden shack. The shack wasn't much more than a single bar with five seats exposed to the elements on all sides except above, where a thin awning stretched over any would-be customers. The thick smell of broth seeped from behind the bar along with yellow light and sharp clangs of metal.

"Here go," an old lady with a wrinkled face unceremoniously placed a wide clay bowl in front of the River-God. He had been sitting there since -- actually he didn't know, he couldn't quite remember ever sitting down but here he was. He looked down into the bowl of noodles, buttery broth swimming around the yellow-stained egg noodles, dotted with quick chopped vegetables. He looked up, but the old lady had already left, her voice carrying from the back of the shack as she argued with what he hoped was her gruff husband.

Wooden chopsticks clicked together and Shengshi turned to the stool adjacent to his, a smiling face looking back at him. The smiling gentleman held a prize of noodles between two long chopsticks, a gentle hum in his voice, "I do love this place you know," his grainy voice ricocheted across the sound of the pattering rain.

Shengshi smiled and grabbed a pair of chopsticks for himself. “Well, in that case, I look forward to the taste test. Let us see if the noodles of dreams can measure up to the craft of servants.” He pinched a couple of strands between the sticks and slurped them up. He chewed for a moment and swallowed, nodding with an impressed expression all the while. “That is quite something, indeed. Incredible what the mind can convey to the tastebuds.” He grinned and reached out his hand to K’nell. “How have you been of late, my dear friend?”

Their hands clapped together in a clasp and then fell apart. K'nell swallowed his own bite and cleared his throat, "I've been well, and how have you fared? I would be lying if I didn't admit to hearing about the troubles settling on the southern continent." The old lady came out from behind a curtained door and placed two cups onto the table and then a carafe between them. She gave a gentle bow of her head and turned to leave.

"Ah thank you, dear Rosy," K'nell tipped the carafe over Shengshi's cup. The old lady simply gave a pinched smile and shuffled off. The cups were both quickly filled halfway with a clear liquid. K'nell lifted his to his chin and ushered Shengshi to continue.

The snake mouthed the name Rosy to himself and shrugged discreetly. His eyes then flicked back to K’nell and he pursed his lips. “Well, I cannot lie, the last fifty years have been something else. With everything from experimentation to figuring out the essence of agriculture, in addition to all the conflict before and after the Arrival of the Alma - everything has been less than harmonious.” He furrowed his brows. “Yes, you have no doubt heard about all that regardless, so I will spare you the rant, dear friend. Now, what have you yourself been doing?”

"Oh, what I've always been doing, I suppose," K'nell took a sip of his drink and placed it back down, opting for his soup. He slurped a pinch of noodles and nodded, "Ah but I'm sure you want details. I admit I rarely get visitors who simply want to chat." He swirled his chopsticks in his soup, his utensils suddenly pinching a large bundle of noodles. He held them over the bowl until they stopped dripping. His eyes flickered back to Shengshi, "If you don't mind, I would like to perform a quick exercise… have some of my soup."

The snake blinked and accepted the bowl with a nod of his head. “Well, I am not one to decline such an offer. May I inquire as to what this exercise is about?” He took the bowl with both hands and brought it to his lips to nip at the soup.

K'nell held up a finger, "First, how does it taste?"

The snake smacked his lips quietly. “Quite similar to my own, I confess.”

"What if I were to suggest that my soup is actually very different than your own, but your tongue, of course, is none the wiser. You see, both soups have a similar taste pattern and your own palate has already become accustomed to it through your own bowl." K'nell smiled, "Awfully thoughtful for a bowl of soup -- here." He suddenly produced a glass vial of black liquid. He let eight drips fall into the soup before Shengshi, the broth darkening.

"Now try."

The snake once more nipped at his bowl, smacked his lips and then had another sip. “My… What did you put in it?”

"Just something very different than the original flavour. To be honest, that spice you now taste has always been there, but hidden. Now it has something to contrast against and show itself," K'nell explained simply. He looked at his drink, "Such is the way of soups… and such is the way of dreams."

The snake took another sip and chuckled. “A similarity shared with wine, I suppose. By the way, how did you like your gift?”

"I enjoyed it very much, thank you," K'nell grinned, "Not a drop was wasted, I assure you."

“How marvellous,” the snake said with a grin. “Please, do not be afraid to ask for more. There will always be more for my dearest friends.” He slurped another mouthful of soup and hummed pensively. “On another note, may I ask what happened that night when all my servants suddenly woke up screaming? Were you testing something?”

K'nell gave Shengshi a knowing look and waved a hand over their noodles, a tiny grin tucked in the corner of his mouth, "I was simply making soup."

The snake wrinkled his nose. "Not a soup for the faint of heart, I reckon. Forgive my questioning, but I feel compelled to inquire as to why you felt the need to make such a… Particular recipe."
I
K'nell steepled his fingers over his now empty bowl, "Ah I see, you have some concerns." He paused with a hum, "Perhaps a quick look behind the curtain might appease your worry?" The god smiled as his fingers slipped between the unseen folds of reality, "Yes?"

The snake made a face and nodded. "Very well. Show me."

K'nell raised a brow and flicked a smile; then with a sudden resounding snap, everything changed.

K'nells boot crunched on autumn leaves as he walked, his elbows folded square behind his back. The two were on a leaf ridden path cut through beautiful red leaved maples that hung over their heads. An owl was crying somewhere and Shengshi wasn't sure if it was dusk or dawn. The leaves swished in tiny storms and K'nell sucked in a soil scented breath.

"So tell me, Shengshi," K'nell broke the tanquility with a charm, "What are you thinking, if you'd forgive my familiarity, what is the future in your eyes?"

"The future? Why, that is simple! The future is prosperous - unending lands of green filled with full-bellied beasts and pious mortals, webbed together by rivers of life." The snake made a playful smirk. "Or had you something else in mind?"

K'nell smiled but didn't take his eyes off the path before them, "That sounds almost like a paradise, no?"

The snake nodded. “Indeed, hence why I wish it for this world. Already, much of it has known destruction, and it deserves a calmer, safer future - one without worry and anxiety.”

"Have you created paradise, yet?" K'nell turned his head to look at Shengshi, his black eyes betrayed more than a simple question.

The snake made a frown. “W-well, obviously not. It is a future goal - a project-in-progress.”

"I suppose that would make sense," K'nell nodded and turned back to the path, "I have one more question on the topic, but I have to ask you not to take offense to it."

The snake pursed his lips. “Go on.”

"Do you know how?" K'nell asked simply, his words almost punctuated by him suddenly stopping on a particularly crunchy leaf. He turned to the snake, a single brow raised.

The snake’s face caught a slightly redder shade and he looked away. “... There is still some experimentation to be done in order to find the optimal path, I fear…”

"Ah," K'nell presented a tiny smile, "Then I won't pressure you further on paradise." He mused in silence for a second, "But since you clearly have had some thought of similar subjects, did you perhaps devise an end for your creations? Or perhaps a way to create perfection?" The God didn't wait for an answer before he started walking again.

A distant look filled Shengshi’s eyes. “A way to create perfection, huh… Well, I have been refining my book of law that I will hand down to mortality. I believe firmly that the system outlined within them forms a most harmonious society, which can then be supported by bountiful harvests and great wealth. Only…” He shook his head in disappointment. “... Please do not tell anybody I said this, but I… Struggle to practice my preachings, so to speak - that does not exactly set a wonderful example for mortality.”

"Deviations are expected in most coded works; although by the creator…" K'nell paused, "I suppose that shows you that you have either created a code that is impossible to follow or one that is honest -- as so many creator of rules ensure the rules favor them first… If that was the case, in this greed you'd have no trouble, so take your struggle as a sign of potential and not failure." He looked intently at the snake, "As for the topic of privacy, you are in a dream. Only I and the dreamer know what transpires in dreams and as I've made clear to others, none of it shall be shared. I expect the same of you of course, we share delicate bits of information, such as this dream, or the secret demise of Vakk." His eyes flashed over the snake for a moment.

The snake blinked. He then sucked in a breath through the nose and placed his fist over his mouth. “... His death…” he began, “... I…” He squeezed his eyes shut in shame. “... I am afraid that is a secret no longer.”

"I know, Shengshi," K'nell stepped over a tiny puddle, "But hearing it from you ensures my faith in your honesty." He hummed for a moment, "However I must insist you keep this talk between us, yes?"

The snake nodded with a recovering smile. “Of course, my dearest brother. This is but a dream - little of note to share.” He winked playfully.

"And yet some of the best things happen in dreams," K'nell mused, "Ah, for example."

K'nell suddenly stopped and as if the trees were peeled away on command, there stood an endless field of green before the two gods. It held glistening blue brookes that cut the endless field into pieces. Idyllic homes crested each island, and a great many people went about various tasks, each with a feeling of bliss in their hearts and step. K'nell plucked a yellow flower from beside him and held it to his nose to appraise it.

The snake gaped in awe and breathed a hacking gasp. His eyes shone with the moisture of pride and love as he gazed out across the vast fields of green, listened to the warm buzz of farmers and heard the snaps and smacks of their work. He sniffed a single sniff and nodded. “Yes… Some of the best things, indeed.” He slithered forward among the tall, verdant stalks, his hands caressing the growing sprouts on top. He hummed to the sound of the becks and flight of the bees and revealed a grin than glistened in the light above - the same way everything around radiated with idyll.

"But of course," K'nells grainy voice piped up from behind Shengshi, the Lord of sleep not having moved from his spot, "Should you stare at this scene long enough, it will become bland despite that special spice that makes it so wonderful. It is not perfect, but it holds a piece of perfection." He paused, "Then again there is also the matter of perception."

The grass bent under his boots as he made his way to Shengshi's side, "No, I'm afraid this is not good enough. Mind you it isn't the lack of grandeur nor the dreams fault but those perceiving it. Tell me, Shengshi, what makes your most beloved creations happy?"

The snake furrowed his brow in thought and hummed. "Why, I reckon that would be the knowledge that their creator watches over them and ensures their bellies are filled and their throats are wetted." He gave K'nell a look. "Since you asked the question, what do you think?"

"Hm?" K'nell turned his head towards the snake, "Your creations? I suppose the answer is the same for any creation granted free will: they make themselves happy, or unhappy -- not to say external forces are not extremely important in determining one's mental state, but to rely solely on external stimuli is… well incorrect."

"There," K'nell pointed a finger at one of the farmers, "You can see the intricacies of this person's mind, yes? By all means they should be soaring with happiness as all their needs are met and they live in an idyllic paradise… but they are uneasy -- unsettled. They crave new experiences, new sights." K'nell chuckled to himself, "So let's say I give those to him, will he then be at ease? Sadly not, as they will eventually realize they want something else entirely. This is a man not yet ready for paradise, as he has yet to find it first in himself. That is not to say that a paradise shouldn't be much more than this, but if he were to be at paradise within, I dare say any scape I throw at him shall be paradise as well." K'nell smiled.

"Do you follow, dear Shengshi?"

"I do," Shengshi murmured. "He could be granted tools to humour himself with: a harp, a flute, clay, wood - paradise necessitates a culture for the arts, of course." He gestured outwards. "Everything such would be welcome in paradise, so long as it would remain harmonious and not infringe upon others' enjoyment of it."

"Oh but it would, dear Shengshi, if the mind is not prepared," K'nell looked out over the field, "It takes a single grain to disrupt such a gentle equation and when dealing with objects of free will… well that is to say perfection is not as simple as everyone plays nice and does nice. To need to enforce a rule dictates that it is a mere sham of a paradise, not quite there… so."

K'nell turned to Shengshi, "Physically a paradise needs to be infinite and infinitely varied, that much is easy… but the psychology of the denizens of paradise, not so easy. So how do you ensure that all parts of this paradise are in concordance with each other… well I suppose you learn all sides of the equation, and every motive possible for emotion… I suppose you add a contradicting flavour to the soup, to better understand the spice you seek to taste." K'nell folded his hands, "And that's just to make the soup, does this all make sense now, Shengshi?"

The snake nodded slowly. "Yes… Yes, it does… A Galbarian paradise is beginning to sound difficult."

"Then let me make it easy," K'nell smiled, "Or at least allow me to simplify it all to a few words: you cannot force someone to be at paradise." K'nell inhaled, "To answer a long ago asked question, a dream holds the seed of truth, but so does a nightmare. You cannot ignore negative experiences on the path to paradise, but let both dreams and nightmares foster a better way of thinking. Perfection exists, dear Shengshi, we just can't talk about it."

"I would like to disagree, but it was indeed a nightmare that brought to me the thought of forming Xiaoli." He chuckled to himself. "Yes, I am in agreement with the need for this balance of impulses - both good and evil can be necessary when deciding the proper paths ahead. Yet… I do hope there will be a spoonful more good in the lands to come."

K'nell looked at Shengshi for a moment before smiling, "But of course and on the topic of balance, I have come across an interesting case -- perhaps one that would be an excuse to allow this topic to rest and our minds with it."

The snake raised a brow. "A case?"

K'nell nodded and clapped his hands once. At the resounding vibration the sky suddenly rolled and thundered about the fields. The people were nowhere to be seen anymore as the sky suddenly sundered open and with it, a torrent of flame. The fire pounded to the earth below and engulfed all.

The flicker of blinding orange subsided and Shengshi stood on the steps of a dias, K'nell sitting on a throne far above. The intricately dressed room around them was well lit, and filled with a playful orchestra. Flitting orbs of emotion danced around them and in between the statues along the walls. Before Shengshi could comment, K'nell flicked his wrist and a person materialized between them.

The figure was nothing too impressive, save for the dark circles under his eyes and the beat up clothes of a gentleman he wore. The man was neither dreamer nor of K'nell.

"A man who has only (or at least mostly) experienced misery alone for the past five decades. Not even in sleep does he get a reprise, as it is flooded with nightmares, most of which have nothing to do with his particular journey through life. He is known as Karamir and unfortunately for him, he is friends with…" K'nell mulled over his words, "Well a divine being whose sole purpose is to spread misery."

The snake furrowed his brow and made a faint sneer. "With a name like that, he can only be the creation of Kalmar… My, what an utter lack of creativity." He turned to K'nell. "Why are you showing him to me?"

"Simply because I thought you might find this case as curious as I do," K'nell flicked his wrist and the figure fell to the floor, lumbering about mindlessly. K'nell cleared his throat, "A mortal who has for the better part of their existence having been removed from positive encounters. Of course, he has grown used to his current level of misery -- as expected. To be suddenly liberated from such misery, what do you suspect might happen?"

“... I imagine he would act like a beaten beast - joyous and ecstatic, yet perhaps even a little anxious. Free of chains, the slave is often without purpose, after all.” A pause. “Did you have a wish to free him hidden within this message?”

"You'll have to excuse me, I don't tend to deal in wishes -- he is on his way as we speak," K'nell leaned back in his throne, "Have you ever felt trapped?" The question was sudden, the God of Sleep reaching into his coat pocket.

Shengshi shook his head. “No, I cannot say I have.”

K'nell seemed to ponder the answer as he pulled a silver tin from his coat and opened it up. He presented the rolled cigarillos within to Shengshi, "Smoke?"

The snake peered intently at the cigarillo and hummed. “I have never tried, I confess. Lately, I have been a little wary of smoke and fire.”

"Oh yes of course," K'nell snapped the tin shut, "How insensitive of me." He hummed for a moment as he tucked it away.

“No, no, do not concern yourself with that. It has already been over fifty years, after all, and fire is a necessary, essential part of life for many mortals. As will pipeweed and other substances be, I reckon. Now, I imagine you wanted to tie the trapping to this Karamir?”

"Could you excuse me if I spoke rather liberally for a moment?" K'nell gestured a hand.

“Why, certainly - go ahead.”

"You are trapped, Shengshi," K'nell folded his fingers together, "Whether you know it or not, since the moment you fell asleep I've felt it. Karamir, the cigarillo, simple prods at your symptoms. Tell me, when seeing a curious case of damnation, why did you first focus on the name made by a rival and when presented a luxury item, your first thought was of the war? You have things eating at your subconscious, Shengshi, and plenty of things that need to find a bed."

The snake recoiled a little and blinked. “W-w-well! I-...” He cast a sideways glance into the distance and sneered. “They were mere remarks. Karamir’s name is awfully similar to his creator’s and I have indeed kept my distance from fire over the last few years. What, are you going to tell me that I am trapped by my experiences from the past?”

"Perhaps I misspoke," K'nell offered, "Then again, if I didn't, you would know before me."

Shengshi’s eyes flicked back and forth between K’nell and the fine curtains over the windows. He sighed a hot sigh and crossed his arms over his chest. “... I would not say I am trapped, but the past does haunt me at times.”

"Who can fault you for it," K'nell grinned, "I suppose the only judgement can come from what you do next."

“Yes… Speaking of, would you have any recommendations? Already, I have sworn to oppose Azura and, well… I would likely be a fool to think one of your crows did not catch my latest failure.”

"If I may be so bold," K'nell said after a small pause, "Perhaps it would be wise to sit for a while." He patted the arms of his throne, "And think. Think about the start of things, and the end of things. Figure out the path of each of your choices and only create when you know how to end it. But if I am to be honest, lecturing is not my strong suit, at least not this sort."

The snake smirked. "As usual, you are much too modest, my dearest brother. Your advice has been more than helpful, I assure you." He looked over his shoulder as if something was there and shrugged. "An itch and spine in my neck is telling me I have taken a rather funny position in the real realm… I must be waking up."

"Ah, that's what I was afraid of," K'nell said, "The former rather than the latter. Far be it from me to be directly involved in the choices of another -- in this case, I suppose for a friend." He smiled wide, "As for your waking arrangements, there you are."

As the last syllable sounded, Shengshi realized he was no longer asleep. He turned a lethargic neck to see that he had nearly twisted himself around inside his basket. He muttered to himself and quickly undid the knot that was his body and crawled out of the basket.

"Well… Time to see how close we can get to paradise."

Summarino

Two bros hangout at a noodle bar and talk about why K'nell made nightmares. They then discuss what is paradise and perfection and how to obtain it. They briefly muse over Karamirs shitty existence then K'nell tells Shengshi that he needs to relax. Shengshi is like no...kay. Then K'nell tells him to have a thoughtful vaca.

The end

No might spent

Divinus: The God RP, Mk. III. Finished in Record Time™!

MP:07 FP:08

The room pulsed. White light glimmered over the opaque shadows, dispelling them and revealing grey-blue stonework. Once again in five points K’nell had placed dream orbs, each hovering over a pedestal, whirring and pulsing their glow. In the center of the star, there was a great ripple of light, just as before, with K’nell standing in front of it. His fingers deftly slipped through the light, hooking ethereal threads and incorporeal strings. He pushed and pulled them, weaving them into a pattern hidden by the mind numbing light. The birth of Diana had pushed his project closer than he had expected, and he could feel things starting to fall into place.

A tiny smile cracked his lips and he began to hum a melody, the grain of his voice giving it a veneer of experience and mystery all in one. He tugged a particularly stubborn strand, and reality seemed to shimmer around him for a moment. He paused and the sparkle of light fell back into the rhythmic pulse of the orbs. As his fingers worked his mind idled on different things, his vast army of crows feeding him endless streams of information. He made a curious face at some of the images and sounds the crows relayed, smiled at a few others, and threw in a few frowns for good measure.

Snaking one hand out of the ripple of light, he waved it at nothing in particular and the images stopped flowing, leaving his mind alone with his own ponderings. There was so much to think about, and unlike eons ago, things happen much quicker than before, forcing him to prioritize his thoughts. He let his hands fall from the ripple of light and tapped his clean shaven chin, “Prioritization.” He gave a single humorless ‘ha’ and returned his hands to the ripple, the room suddenly blooming with spots of every bit of color imaginable, plus a few new ones.

“Such a word is hardly known on Galbar” He mused as he tinkered, “Then again, I’m hardly on Galbar.”

“Orvus,” He thought to himself, the images of his last encounter flashing by his mind. He nodded to himself, hoping that the god managed to figure out the true purpose of his gift, and not just the obvious one. His raised his brows and the image of Orvus shifted to that of Azura and her birds, images he knew very well despite never personally meeting her. His crows have heard many stories and opinions on the god… K’nell let his brow fall as he worked on a particularly hesitant thread of light.

“Oh, Azura,” he shook his head, “A heart of gold, but then again, find me a god who doesn’t think their soul is silver and ideas as solid as diamond.” He looked at a mirror that leaned against the wall and smirked.

“There’s a hypocrites’ smile,” He charmed before turning back to his work. He scrunched his brow as he worked; perhaps it was intrinsic to his sphere, a boon acquired from his specialty, but to him, there always seemed to be so many roads and so many strings --almost too many strings-- to only pull one and assume --He yanked a strand of wispy gold-- that it was the only or even the best string. He watched a cloud of glowing light pulse on the other side of the ripple, “Or that the effects of a choice be so simple and clear.”

“Or perhaps,” He thought on, “There is no other choice, or perhaps too few choices.” He thoughts turned to Ashalla, and then to Narzhak,“[i]That there is a certain complexity in the simplicity, or perhaps it really is all that simple.” He smiled, knowing very well that there buzzed a law that even a man of dreams knew to be true, that it is usually the simplest of answers that holds the answer. He cocked a brow, “But at what point do you fall from humility in your choice, and are just plain proud.”

“Then I suppose you could be too prudent as well, too invested in finding every option that you forget what you were talking about to begin with,” He said out loud to nothing at all. He pulled back from the ripple of light, the glowing sun a melody of color. He tucked a hand under his elbow and pinched his chin.

“So I suppose, the answer to this equation is simple,” He watched the ripple, “You cannot have one without the other, and I suppose you’d have to find a certain balance to make sure that you know exactly what is what. But that is the beauty of the dream,” He smiled, “You can have one without the other…”

“Unless…” His eyes flickered with the light.

“You want something else entirely…” A cheshire grin overtook his face.

WHOOM!

The ripple suddenly exploded with a rush, engulfing K’nell in all its splendor. As the flood of color overtook the palace, it grew dark and dim. Runes floated in its miasma as it curled into lines of wicked poetry. The great wonder of the dark tsunami shook the dreamscape…

---

Limbo began to shake and the weavers that floated around it suddenly turned a scarlet red. With an explosive blast, a dark pillar of miasma erupted from the stone platform, rocketing to the sky. It slammed into the heavens with a tremendous force, blasting the night sky with a unsettling shiver. All around Galbar, the sleeping suddenly began to jerk, and began to scream, and began to cry. The realm of the sleeping broke into a chorus of horror, fit with an orchestra of shrieks and a symphony of anxious whimpers.

… True nightmares have been born.

---

...The initial great wave of terror never seemed to touch those who bore the spiral…

---

Diana suddenly stood up. Her umbrella slid off of her and thunked into the wet grass below. Her boots scuffed and she turned every which way, surrounded by a grove of trees -- a gentle river babbling nearby. Her sickly eyes seemed enticed and a smile stretched over her jagged teeth. Slowly her gaze fell to Karamir, the sleeping mortal jerking in his sleep, sweat beading at his temples. A giddy grin and a single clap erupted from Diana, the avatar nearly hopping in place.

“Karamir!” She kicked the man out of his sleep, his eyes popping as they escaped horror.

Karamir shot up into a sitting position, his hand lunging for a branch that lay nearby, only to pause when he realized there was no actual danger. “Agh… wh-what!?” he demanded.

“What, what,” Diana mocked with a wave of her hand, “Can’t break you from that, can I?” She shook her head and waved her arms, “But no, don’t you feel it?” She smiled wide, eyes shifting over his face, looking for signs of his nightmare.

“Whatever do you mean?” Karamir asked, recalling the lessons he had been repeatedly nagged and pestered about.

“Oh dear, oh dear,” Diana scooted around Karamir, “Do mortals really not feel that? A new wing of the palace has been awakened. I can taste it in the air, I could feel it ‘oozing’ from you as you slept.” She closed her eyes as if picturing something, “The symphony was masterful, and you’re telling me you couldn’t even hear it?”

Karamir scratched his head in confusion. “That dream was the worst one yet, but you’ve been giving me nightmares ever since we met. There was something special about this one?”

Diana’s jaw hung in astonishment, “Karamir, that’s probably the sweetest thing you’ve ever said to me.” She hugged herself and smiled smugly, “To think you couldn’t even tell the difference.”

“So what does this mean, then?” he questioned.
“It means I can go home, dear” Diana smiled wide, “And that-- well.” She thought for a moment, “It’s hard to explain, but since you’ve known me… I’ve had a small piece of myself that seemed to be missing, but I think I found it again, oh yes.”

Well, that was concerning, for more reasons than one. “Wait… go home? You’re leaving?” he asked her. Karamir did not relish the idea of her gaining what sounded like more power, but for some strange reason he also did not want her to leave.

“Well leaving is a relative term,” Diana flicked her wrist about, “Leaving this boring slab of stone? Yes.” She closed her lips and hummed in thought, “Oh my, you’ll just love it. No more sunny days, or fluffy critters -- at least not the petting kind.” She shivered.

“Love what?”

Diana blinked, “Home, Karamir, home. My, you’re a dense one.”

Karamir raised an eyebrow. “Are you saying you’re taking me somewhere?”

“Of course,” Diana rolled her eyes, “We are friends, aren’t we? It would be strange to just… leave… you stranded.” She curled a finger and bit it in thought, as if tempted.

Karamir looked around. He had already seen his fair share of dangers on this continent. From giant winged lizards to abominations of filth and metal. If left alone, his odds of survival were not great. “This ‘home’ of yours… what is it?”

"I always forget that you're a simpleton," Diana mused, "Somehow." She shook her head, "I come from the land of dreams, of course." She did a slight twirl, “Couldn’t you tell?”

“I know that, but what is it?” Karamir pressed. “Is it just endless horrors and nightmares? Is being there any different from being asleep?”

“It’s whatever I want it to be, of course,” Diana stuck her chin up, “It’s really quite easy to understand when you think about it and yes, I’d say it’s much better actually being there rather than sleeping. Not from experience of course, but my own personal…” she mulled over her words and rotated her wrist, “I’m not sure, bias? Perhaps.”

“So what happens to me when I sleep - it would just be more of that?”

“Oh my dear Karamir,” Diana pinched her brow but betrayed a toothy grin, “Your lack of eloquence is somehow as sharp as it is dull, or rather it must be because that stung. It’s not just merely pictures floating around in your head, or some sleeping side show, or maybe that’s all it is to you?” Her statement inflected a question and her eyes dug into him with an awaiting glare.

“I’m just trying to learn more about it, that’s all.” he answered, shrugging to offset his defensive tone.

“Haven’t you learned anything from your dreams?” She asked with an almost sickening innocence that Karamir had grown to be cautious around.

Karamir sighed. Getting a straight answer from her had always been difficult - so why should he expect it to be easier now? “I’m trying to find out how it’s different from my dreams. If it’s just more nightmares, but far worse, or all the time, then that isn’t a life I want to live.”

“Oh no, it’s much much better,” Daina clapped once, “Besides, what sort of life are you trying to live anyways? You squat by trees and grunt half the time, I could only imagine what life would have been like if you hadn’t met the likes of me, you know. Look at you, dashing clothes, nearly intelligible diction, and a worn weary eye to boot. I’d say it can only get better for you.” She crossed her arms.

Karamir frowned. “I think your definition of ‘better’ is different from most creatures.”

“Oh foo, there you go with your nonsense again,” Diana folded her hands, “You can’t deny how great it has been having me around, and I’m just saying we can have much more fun, but in a much more civilized land.”

Karamir squinted. “More civilized? In what way?” After all, many of the things he witnessed in his dreams could hardly count as ‘civilized.’

“For one I can introduce you to the wonders of cleaning yourself regularly,” She kept her arms crossed, “Dances, orchestras, cooked food, all of that fun and fluff.”

Karamir ruminated on the offer. He distrusted it, of course, yet he knew that staying here alone was a death sentence. And at least going with Diana would offer some change of pace from the seemingly endless wandering they had been going through previously. He removed his hat and ran a hand through his hair. How long had they been wandering? Countless winters had come and gone. He had been told he would live long, but long was not forever, and he needed to feel like he was making some sort of progress.

He sighed. “I will go… on the condition that I am allowed to safely leave whenever I want.”

"Oh you silly man," Diana cackled, "Have I ever once said you can't leave?"

“I’ve never been in a position where I could safely leave,” Karamir pointed out. “When we first met it was at sea - there was nowhere else to go. And here… this land is dangerous, and you never gave me a weapon to defend myself.”

"I gave you the best weapon of all: style and good friends," She nodded, "Now hup to! We have a home to return to." She put her hands on her hips, "Now just to remember which way it was."

Karamir rose to his feet, and then his eyes widened in fear. “Are we going to have to take another umbrella ride across the sea?”

Diana tapped her chin, "Maybe! Oh I know how much you love those." She spun and spun as if looking for something, "But we do have a schedule to keep, somewhat." She knelt down and scooped up her umbrella. She stared at it for a while and tossed it idly in her hand.

"I suppose we could fly."

”Wait…” Karamir began, before breaking off into silence. For a few seconds, he could only stare at her with his mouth agape. He clenched a fist, then unclenched it, before clenching it again. His face reddened, and it looked as though he might explode, but then he took a deep breath and appeared to calm down - though his hand remained closed. ”That was an option?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

Diana blinked, "Oh my, yes." Her lips cracked into a toothy grin, "Although as you can imagine, space is a little limited."

Karamir opened his palm, and then slowly brought his hand up to meet his face. “Why didn’t you do that in the first place?” he asked, his voice still quiet.

"Oh I think you know me well enough by now," She said idly as she unfurled her umbrella with a whoosh! The brim of the umbrella seemed a lot wider than Karamir remembered and Diana flexed her fingers over the grip a few times, "Shall I be honest with you?"

Karamir dropped his hand. “Do you mean to imply that you have not been honest with me before?” he asked in an unusually dry tone. “I am shocked. But please go on.”

"Oh hush, I've never uttered a lie to you. I simply have a confession," She looked over at him and held out a hand.

Karamir stared at her outstretched hand for a moment, and then reached out to take it. Gripping her palm was cold and somehow, sweaty? Or was it so dry that it felt that way, either way the discomfort spread up his arm like a creeping spider as her fingers creaked over his. But Karamir had grown used to such sensations, and he was unphased.

"I've never flown before," She cackled as the two suddenly shot off of the ground, smashing through the canopy of the forest. Karamir’s grip tightened and his surprised yell was drowned out by the rushing wind, but this was not his first time flying, and after the initial surprise passed he was able to calm himself. As they jerked to a horizontal flight pattern, he saw a shimmer exit a hidden pocket of Diana's dress. The tiny orb slipped out, smacked him in the nose, and quickly disappeared as it plummeted to the ground.

”Agh!” he cried out, his voice suddenly nasally as drops of blood streamed from his fresh injury, landing in the forest below. Diana didn't seem to notice, or at least pretended not to as she started her little hum up again. This was going to be quite the journey.

Summary

Here we find a god (K'nell) musing over the choices of other gods while creating something in his arts and crafts room where he had made Diana. His solo convo goes on long enough that he forgets his topic and turns to explain the duality of dreams and nightmares and how you can have one without the other… that is if you just want dreams and nightmares (lol what. [Think about it]) So then he unleashes his new project upon Galbar… Nightmares.

The world screams. Nightmares are real now, find them occasionally (or perhaps often, maybe hardly) in your box of dreams.

Oh and then Diana is all like WOOHOO and wakes Karamir up from a horror of sleep and then he convinces him to come home with her (like stray dog) and then they decide to fly. The piggut orb is lost on DF.

[/hider]

Might Summary

Starting 7 MP 8 FP
5mp spent on obtaining the Nightmare port

Ending 2 MP 8 FP

Other ports
2 / 5 misery
1 / 5 polymorphism

Divinus: The God RP, Mk. III. Finished in Record Time™!

The Rise of The Sleepers -- Part 1

Please don’t skim this one.

A blood curdling scream broke the evening bird song. There was a flash of soft blue and the flourish of an elegant dress as a woman fell from the balcony, her body slamming into the garden walkway below with a loud crack. Screams clouded the gardens as guards came clunking over, dropping their polearms. An elderly servant came sprinting out from inside the palace, a ghastly horror in his eyes as he skidded over to the empress. Her scanned her still eyes, the look of betrayal frozen in her dead face, until finally his eyes snapped to her pregnant belly.

“Knife!” He yelled, his voice shaking with adrenaline, “kniiiiiiiiiiife!”

The guards seemed dumbstruck as the servant screamed, eventually wrenching a dagger from one of their belts. With an uncharacteristically steady hand he plunged the dagger into the side of the dead lady’s abdomen, summoning a gush of blood. Her pulled the blade down, creating a c-section before plunging his hands into the fresh gore. His eyes were blazed with determination as onlookers squealed and shouted and cried and vomited. He gingerly pulled his hands out of her ripped open stomach, a baby in his fingers.

The small child gurgled angrily, coated in blood but otherwise unharmed. A grim smile, more of one of stress than relief cracked the old man’s face. He mouthed the prince’s name and the world seemed to freeze. Colours of bile and gore all over, he gingerly placed the screaming baby into Hermes’ hands.

She was kneeling, her body stiff and frozen, her hands out and waiting as the weight was added to her shaking hands, her eyes wide with horror. She wanted to scream but her mouth was a straight line. Ahead the baby wriggled in her hands, but the scene was gone. She knelt in nothingness. It was just her, the baby, and the masked figure in the distance.

It stood there silently, just a speck on the empty horizon, and yet she could feel its terrible gaze through its blank mask. The baby screamed and her ears throbbed, her heart matching. Slowly the baby melted in her hands, leaving her in a pool of fear. She blinked.

The masked stranger was right in front of her. She could not move her head, but her eyes were stuck on its blank mask, a cold chill shocking her system. It felt as if a bottomless pit had replaced her stomach as it stared in supreme silence.

A lump formed in Hermes throat and she choked on a tear. Slowly the warm flow of blood began to dribble from her eyes, sobs echoing in the emptiness. Runes began to dance behind the masked figure, but she couldn’t make them out. She cried, and she cried, red rivulets contrasting her pale skin as it drained from her sobbing eyes.

---

Chagatai yelled, “Mom!?” His voice was a deep baritone as he came charging across the courtyard. His mother was kneeling in the center of the courtyard in complete silence, a gentle blue sky above. The man shook Hermes’ shoulder but she didn’t respond, her eyes wide with terror as she knelt, frozen. He could see the tears trapped behind her eyes and he bit his lip, “I’ll go get help.” He whispered to her before jumping to his feet and sprinting into one of the other buildings. In seconds he came bursting back out, his thick muscled arms pushing Xiaoli towards Hermes.

“I just got here and she was like-” Chagatai began to explain hastily, “This.”

“HERMES!” Xiaoli exclaimed and slid down next to her, quickly patting around on her body and face to inspect her for ailments with a desperate sheen in her eyes. “Hey, Hermes! Hermes, it’s me! It’s Xiaoli! Can you hear me? Hello?!” Like Chagatai had, Xiaoli began to shake her wife in an anxious attempt to stir life back into her, but she stayed frozen, her body bouncing back to its sitting position, eyes ever wide.

---

Bubbles formed around Hermes as she stared at the figure. Muffled sounds panged against them, as if she were underwater. She knelt in a pool of her crimson tears, the flow of blood unending as she stared at the figure. It held out a hand and a blast of wind dried her eyes. Her baby twins appeared behind the figure, then the rest of her children, and their children, and then so many faces she didn’t recognize. Pyramiding into the distant horizon the army of Dreamers stood staring at her lifelessly, mouthing an ancient word. Her heart began to seize.

---

“Mom!” Chagatai forced one of Hermes’ hands out of her lap, but it sprung back. He grabbed it again and held it close to his spun shirt, gripping it tight. He looked over at Xiaoli with worry and then suddenly Hermes sucked in a massive breath. Her fingers wrapped around his arm and she squeezed. She shut her eyes and blunk a few times, loose tears being pushed out from the blink. She looked over at Xiaoli, still in shock.

Her wife's face blurred into view, as did the colorful buildings behind her, the crooked trees, and the azure blue sky. And yet, there was still a hole in her stomach and a chill in her veins. She went to speak but only croaked a dry breath.

"Are you okay?" Chagatai slowly helped Hermes to her feet, "What happened?"

"Y-yeah," She wrapped her cloak around herself, shivering.

Xiaoli placed herself in front of her and grabbed her by the shoulders, pulling her into a tight embrace. “Oh, Hermes, my love, what happened?!” She squeezed nearly to the point of suffocation.

Hermes furrowed her brow, sinking into Xiaoli’s body in search of warmth, “I don’t know… is everyone okay?” A deep pang resounded in her chest and she shivered. Chagatai stared at his parents for a moment.

“Everyone is fine, mom,” He cocked his head, “Altan is home with the boys, all healthy and plump, just as Mother Xiaoli ordered.” He pushed a smile and Hermes forced one in return. Her hand found Xiaoli’s and she squeezed it.

“It’s probably just stress, I can feel it in my chest,” She rubbed her chest as if to punctuate her meaning, “I saw the masked man again.”

Xiaoli pulled away with a mouth like a line and a pair of worried eyebrows. “The one from before?”

“Yeah,” Hermes’ eyes turned serious.

“Masked man?” Chagatai asked.

“A figure I see in my dreams… well not usually. But off and on for decades now.” Hermes explained, “First when you and Wen-Wen were babies, again when you were little kids… and now. But these…” She looked at Chagatai’s worried expression and pushed his shoulder, “These you shouldn’t worry about, baby. It’s a dream, we are dreamers… it’s what we do.”

Chagatai gave her an unsure smile, and Hermes forced a wide grin, “What did you need?”

“Oh? Oh!” He looked over at the basket he had dropped when he ran over, “I was just getting some spices, Mother had already packed them and I was on my way out when I saw you-”

“It’s okay,” Hermes smiled, “I think I’ll just have some water and relax for the rest of the day-- get home with those spices before Altan takes it as permission to do the cooking herself.” Chagatai grimaced and looked over at Xiaoli, who gave him an approving nod. Sucking in a breath he nodded.

“Okay, but send Poppler the moment you need me.” He eyed both of them and Hermes shook her head.

“Don’t worry, Chaggie, please,” Hermes went on tiptoes and kissed his blue-streaked cheek, “Go get home now.” She paused, “Safely!”
“Now who’s worrying,” Chagatai smirked and backed away to his discarded basket of spices. He hooped it around his arm and pointed at his parents, “I’ll stop by tomorrow after the hunt, no more weird dreams!”

As he exited the mansion, Xiaoli shook her head. “He’s our son, you know. He’ll be worried sick for the whole night.” Xiaoli wrapped her arms around Hermes’ waist from behind and rested her head against her back. “You sure it’s not something you’re eating? We could get Wenbo - he might know.”

Hermes put her hands over Xiaoli’s and sighed, “For nearly forty years?” She shook her head, “They are getting worse, more vivid… I can still feel it. Almost like it-” She froze, a glimpse of white flickering outside the gate.

“Like it followed me home.”

Xiaoli sighed melancholically. “Is there no cause that you can think of? No mushrooms or anything?” She pulled away. “Is it a message from the Exalted Creators, you think?”

“I don’t know,” Hermes scrunched her nose, “But I don’t feel very good, I can tell you that much.”

Xiaoli leaned her face on a fist and huffed. “I’d tell you to go to sleep, but that probably wouldn’t do much… Have you tried to speak to Father K’nell?”

“I-- no,” She admitted and squirmed, “I could try, maybe tomorrow? I’m already exhausted plenty over this.” She snuck forward a bit, creeping towards the gate.

Xiaoli grabbed her hand and squeezed it. “H-hey, where are you going?”

“I thought I saw something,” Hermes whispered and tugged Xiaoli against the wall. She peeked out. “I wish I had my club,” She muttered as she poked her head through the portal.

Xiaoli furrowed her brow and sniffed. “Sweetgrass, your club is in your study - where you always put it.”

“I know,” Hermes affirmed and slipped through the gate. She stopped, her body dropped in a sort of offensive stance, but nothing was there. Her brow furrowed and she looked back and forth, eyes scanning the trees.

“Nothing.”

“Hermes.”

“What-” Hermes turned to face Xiaoli and yelped, a large masked face an inch from hers. She flung herself backwards to the ground, her heart pounding. She blinked, and Xiaoli was standing in front of her.

“You- you spooked me,” Hermes stammered.

Xiaoli recoiled a bit, too, then made a determined frown. “Alright, that’s it. You are -not- well. I don’t care what Father K’nell is doing. We are seeing him this instant.” She stormed towards Hermes and reached out to grab her hand.

Hermes snapped her hand back, “I’m fine, really. I’m just a little shaken up is all; If you saw something stalking outside the walls after a bad dream, you’d check too.”

“Hermes, you’re not fine - you just ran away from me as if I was a wild devil - me, your wife, a woman who loves you with all her heart and life.” She sniffed and cleared her throat. “No, no, we are going to see Him and I am -not- taking no for an answer.”

Hermes seemed stalwart, “We are going to see him? How?”

“W-well, prayer’s worked before, right? Let’s ask him to come over!” Xiaoli strolled in the direction of the northern side of the mansion, where they long ago had built a small shrine to K’nell. Hermes crossed her arms and followed Xiaoli reluctantly.

“I’m telling you,” She said, “He will say I’m just stressed too, really should we bother a god over something like this?” They stopped in front of the shrine and Xiaoli came to an abrupt halt. She took an agitated breath of air through the nose and crossed her arms over her bosom.

“What will do you if we don’t get help, hmm? Go back to sleep and experience the exact same thing? Hermes, this is like when Temüjin refused to get his foot checked because he could ‘just walk it off’. Thank the Gods we had wine to disinfect the wound…” She shook her head. “This is nothing to be stubborn about!”

“But I am stubborn,” Hermes gave Xiaoli a pleading face with big black eyes that suddenly grew sparkles of gold.

“I know you are and that’s not a good thing!” Another breath. Xiaoli leaned her head on her hand and closed her eyes. “Just… Can we at least ask Him? You know how much it pains me to see you like this.”

Hermes’ eyes switched back to their normal black and she sighed, “Fine… if it’ll help, then sure.”

Xiaoli’s smile slowly grew back and she squeezed one of Hermes’ hands. “Okay, then.” The two knelt down before the shrine and Xiaoli went down on her hands as well. “O Holiest of Being, great Sovereign of Sleep, K’nell, dear Father - if it does not inconvenience You, we are in need of Your counsel.”

A dark miasma seeped from the shrine and with a crack of thunder, a cloud formed over the pair. It’s rolling sheets of darkness turned white and plush, showering a certain favor down. A crow cawed in the distance and glided over to the shrine, landing on it with shadowy feathers. It cawed twice and as it went for a third, a grainy voice swirled instead.

“Your words will not go unheard, my dears. Please… speak your mind.”

Xiaoli let out a sigh of relief. “Oh, thank the Gods, You came. H-Hermes isn’t feeling well at all - she keeps talking about this masked man, and--... Well, it’s impacting her even when awake. Would you like to explain some more, dear?” Xiaoli squeezed Hermes’ shoulder affectionately.

“I’m having terrible dreams, of a masked man who wears feathers and beads. I see runes, and scenes I could never imagine… I wake up feeling terrible, and the emotions I feel in my dreams stay with me when I’m awake… even now I feel a hole in my belly filled with gushing anxiety and curling-- I’m not even sure, sadness?”

There was pause and the cloud dissipated into the sky, revealing nothing but the blue azure above. The crow cocked its head and pecked at the shrine, and just as they began to worry K’nell had left, his voice swirled around them.

“You have had these dreams for many years, I know this. I did not exactly make these dreams for you, and I cannot exactly tell you who has -- I know how and who, do not mistake my hesitation for ignorance. My dear Hermes, I am sorry this ailment has befallen you, but know that it is… simply because there is more to you than most realize, more to all the dreamers.”

The voice stopped for a moment, “With your permission, dears, I’d like to conduct a test-- to see if Hermes is ready to confront what has been growing alongside her all these years.”

Hermes’ brow furrowed and she looked at Xiaoli, “O-of course!”

Xiaoli frowned. “If-if I may ask, what does the test entail?”

“I am simply going to show Hermes and you an image of the sky… but feel free to comfort each other as you see fit.”

Hermes made a face, “Sounds easy enough.” But her hand betrayed her anxiety as it latched onto Xiaoli’s tightly. Xiaoli smiled reassuringly, but her hand was too sweaty to denote calmness.

The crow cawed four times and suddenly flew away, leaving the pair all alone by the shrine. The wind blew over the walls and dragged its crisp cloak over the two as they waited. The sky above remained a plain blue, but the familiar yet distant smell of an autumn’s night shook from the trees that surrounded the estate. The leaves rustled a song that had no words, yet was more than nostalgic. A strange feeling grappled Xiaoli, similar to the first time she had entered the forest, and a glance over to Hermes showed that she wasn’t alone. The dreamer clutched her chest, a cracking cold filling her heart and causing her legs to shiver.

The song of the leaves increased in volume, the wind adding its chorus, and then all at once the orchestra of the past clamored a great boom and the sky broke in half -- the dark black of a moonless midnight pushing the blue away. A nebula of stars winked down, covered only by the see-through winds and the chill of night. Hermes fingers crushed Xiaoli’s as her chest tightened and eyes widened. She stared upwards as if her very soul was threatening to spill from her eyes and be swallowed by the night sky above. Tears began to stain her cheek as she stared, mouth opened and muttering wordlessly. Slowly a strange accent broke from her throat.

“Kuranell.”

Her voice was shaky, threatening to scream.

“Kuranell.”

The fear radiating from her was palpable. Her voice pitched, about to crack.

“Kuranell.”

“H-hey, Hermes?” Xiaoli whispered and attempted to get closer to her and wrap her arms around her shoulders.

A push of wind exited Hermes’ mouth and she turned to Xiaoli, eyes scanning the sky behind her, “They’re all gone.” Her words were cryptic and accented, “The trees took them away.” She began to cry, “They have to bite their tongues.”

“Your Holiness, w-what is she saying?” Xiaoli demanded anxiously as she waved her hands in front of Hermes’ eyes.

The sky cracked and the blue took it back from the night. Groaning erupted over the forest as the trees halted their swaying and the wind quickly hid away. All that was left was the timid chirp of confused birds, the two lovers, and one swirling voice.

“I’m afraid she hasn’t said much of anything,” K’nells voice answered, “Much is happening inside of her as we speak, and if she is to do away with it all… she must venture to Limbo, enter it, and confront what is causing her ailment. I cannot reveal too much to her nor you but I will say: her mortal mind has crossed thresholds it was not meant to in the dreamscape, a trait inherent to all dreamers and thus her sickness is not exclusive to her. To ensure--”

“My children,” Hermes suddenly said, worry in her eyes as she seemed to snap from a trance. A sleeve came up to wipe her already drying tears, “They are in danger.”

There was a pregnant pause and then K’nell continued.

“Travel well into Limbo, and you will find all your answers and all your solutions… but it will not be easy, nor safe; however this is something that you must do. You have my favor, and I will be at the end of every one of your prayers, doing all I can without intervening too heavily in this delicate situation.”

Hermes held her head as she pondered the words. She pinched the bridge of her nose and looked over at Xiaoli, she went to say something but sucked in a stressed breath instead.” She looked back to where the voice had hung, “Will my children be safe while I do this?”

“They will be.” The voice answered.

Hermes let out a long breath, “Then I only have one thing to lose.”

“You won’t lose me, dear,” Xiaoli said with a wink. “I’m much more durable than you, after all. But… Limbo...”

Hermes put her hand on Xiaoli’s shoulder, “I meant… me.” She gave her a sad smile.

”POP!” A cloudling came rushing out of Hermes’ study’s window and crackled between the two.

“Oh, Hermes, I know you did. Don’t worry - death will not claim you while I still exist. I’ll keep you safe.” She leaned her head on Hermes’ chest and let out a soft sigh that pushed Poppler away. “Always.”

Hermes smiled and kissed the top of Xiaoli’s head, “I know, love.”

”Zzt!”

“I-- uh.. Know Poppler,” Hermes made a face and looked back at the shrine, “Thank you. For everything.”

“Do not thank me yet, dear.” The voice swirled, “A journey lays ahead of you, and while it may seem daunting, or even impossible at some turns, know that the goal is yours. Good luck, and do not despair at the mysteries of the gods, all will be made apparent.” With that, a certain weight seemed to leave the area, as if hinting at the absence of the god.

“So… Limbo again, then?” Xiaoli said carefully.

"There isn't much choice," Hermes tucked in her lower lip and chewed on it anxiously, staring into the distance, "I'll need my sandals, and my club. It's been a long time since I've been on such an adventure." She made a face, and Xiaoli could read the eagerness between her anxiety, "Very long time."

“Well,” Xiaoli began with a smile. “Do you feel like you could reawaken that wanderlust of old?”

"In the words of an old adventuring friend of mine," Hermes looked at Xiaoli sternly, optimism hidden in her eyes.

"Pop."

Prestigio

It 25 bitch

summary

A fuckin crazy dream grips Hermes and if you didn't read it then you should go back and read it because it's details are extremely important for this plot arc and you will not be able to follow it via summaries.

She is found paralyzed in the courtyard, gripped by visions of the masked man by an adult Chagatai who quickly gets Xiaoli for help.

After Hermes is freed from her mental prison Chagatai leaves and Xiaoli insists Hermes sees K'nell. She refuses and instead hunts a figure she swore she saw.

Xiaoli doubly insists and they talk to K'nell. He reveals stuff that again, would do you well to read for yourself. Stating she has to travel into Limbo to confront what has been growing alongside her or her kids and herself will be put in great danger.

They get the old adventure gang back together. Pop.

Poppler, Xiaoli, and Hermes head out.

Divinus: The God RP, Mk. III. Finished in Record Time™!

Karamir and Diana

Best Friends Forever

The air was swampy and dense. The two had trekked for what was by Karamir’s standards, far too long -- but at least it had been in a straight line. Wide leaved ferns crushed underfoot as they made their way through a primordial jungle, a cacophony of birds and various tree dwellers taunting them. Diana seemed unmoved by it all, her eyes all but closed as she hummed a strange tune to herself. The hum was new, and to Karamir’s utmost surprise, actually catchy. For once, something that could not be described as unpleasant radiated from the woman, and if not for the itchiness of his own sweat and that uncomfortable feeling her very presence gave him, he may have called it unoffensive.

The hum stopped on a sour note and the mood seemed to sink. Her boot scuffed as she suddenly came to a stop, “That does it.” She suddenly announced, pivoting on her heel to face her companion.

The sudden turn caught him off guard, and he nearly collided into her before he came to a stop as well. ”What?” Karamir asked, in a confused tone.

“This,” She waved her hand as if presenting Karamir, “All of it -- It won’t do anymore. On an umbrella in the sea, maybe. In the forest meeting new people, hardly. Prolonged company with a lady, definitely not.” She crossed her arms, “You’re going to have to learn to be a gentleman and to--” She grimaced at his furs, “Dress like one.”

”What?” Karamir repeated. ”What’s wrong with this?”

“What?” Diana mimicked with a goofy baritone, “What, what.” She shook her head, “Even your confusion is unrefined.” She tapped her chin, “You want to improve, yes?”

”Yes…” Karamir answered with some hesitation, ”...but I don’t see what needs to be improved.”

“I know you don’t, dear,” She shook her head sadly, “You have an affliction known as ignorance, but for your unrefined tastes, let’s just call it stupid eyes.” She walked around him with such a look as if inspecting his very existence.

Karamir narrowed his eyes. ”My eyesight is fine,” he told her.

“So very simple,” She patronized and clasped her hands together, “Do you know what a puppy is?”

”No.”
“I thought not,” She waved the question away. She thought for a moment and then flourished her hand through the air, a round brimmed hat appearing in her grasp. It was a dark velvet with a stiff, flat top and a wide band around the base. She pushed it towards Karamir, “Here, try this on.”

With suspicion in his eyes, Karamir looked at the hat, then up at Diana, then back down at the hat again. Then, he reached forward to take it from her, and after looking inside it to make sure it was empty, he hesitantly put it on his head, anticipating some sort of trick -- but to his surprise, there was none.

“Do you like it?” Diana asked with a evil grin.

Karamir shrugged. ”It’s comfortable, I suppose.” Then his suspicion returned. ”Why? What else does it do?”

“Oh dear,” Diana’s eyes widened and she snapped her fingers, a sudden discomfort coming to his head, the hat sitting tight in some areas and loose in others “I’m so sorry about that. There, all better.”

”Stop that.”

“You’re too kind,” Diana gave him a polite smile, and snapped her fingers again. Karamir seemed to black out for a fraction of a second as reality warped around him, his mortal mind refusing to recognize the fabrics that were torn from Galbar. When it all stopped, he found himself standing extremely straight, his form densely clothed in a strange outfit. He wore slim grey trousers cuffed by sleek black boots, a long white shirt was tucked under it and a clasped belt. Pulled over that was a beige vest and draped over that was a long black jacket, punctuated by a puffy white ascot. In all it was strange, foreign, but not completely uncomfortable -- but he would never admit that.

Karamir took a step back as he glanced downward with a shocked expression. ”What…” he looked toward his new sleeves, then back down at his feet. ”What is this?”

“Real clothes,” Diana huffed and crossed her arms, “And now you look the part of a gentleman, mostly.”

Karamir furrowed his brow. ”Why? What purpose does any of this serve? What do these do that my old clothes didn’t?”

“Such a--” Diana bit her tongue and smiled wide, “Karamir, you just received a gift. A gift from your closest friend, may I add. A gentleman would thank the giver, hmm?”

”Thank you, but I want to know what these actually do.” Karamir said.

“Oh dear, you’re really intent on them serving some grand function, aren’t you?” Diana teased the question.

”I’m not, I just want to know if there is anything they are already capable of.”

“Making you look presentable,” Diana frowned, “It’s it obvious?”

Once again Karamir shrugged. ”I still don’t see what was wrong with my old clothes.”

“Fine,” Diana’s smile returned and she snapped her fingers, but nothing seemed to happen. She gave him a curt nod and smiled, “Now they serve a purpose that ousts your old clothes, can we continue working on your manners, please?”

At the sound of snapped fingers, Karamir flinched. When nothing happened, he looked back up at her. ”Manners? What do you mean?”

“You’re a bumbling fool in conversations and in company. It was amusing at first, but really its boring me.” She crossed her arms, “It’s time you learn to talk.”

”We are talking right now. What makes you think I’m incapable?”

“I say something that confuses you, and what do you usually bark at me?” Diana questioned, raising a finger.

”What, why, something like that. Why is that a problem?”

“It’s just… primitive. You don’t want to be primitive, do you?” Diana glared at him with her bloodshot eyes.

”And what do you mean by ‘primitive’?” he challenged.

Diana cackled, “Stupid, foolish, unbecoming, ignorant, and most importantly: inappropriate.” She mulled a thought and rolled her head on her neck, “Especially for someone with such big plans as yourself, hm?”

Karamir glared at her. ”And how would these ‘manners’ help me?”

“Oh my goodness,” Diana put her fists on her sides, “You’re just difficult every step of the way, aren’t you?”

”You’re the one refusing to answer my questions,” Karamir countered.

“Am I, or do you just never stop?” Diana gritted her teeth into a grin, “Listen to me, you need manners because a world without manners is hardly a world worth living in. You have big plans, and big aspirations, but will harbor absolutely no respect if you go about it with you knuckles dragging and your diction no better than a bunch of misplaced grunts.” She crossed her arms, “Besides the obvious, you’d think you’d want to learn some manners for yours and my own sake.”

Karamir sighed. ”I suppose I don’t have anything to lose. What do I need to know?”

“Oh too much,” Diana nodded solemnly, “This will take a while, but we have plenty of time. Besides, hardly a chore spending quality time with your dearest friends, hm?” She smiled wide.

”Let’s get on with it, then.”

“Mhm,” Diana gave a disappointed grunt, “Well I suppose we should start at your most glaring problem.” She walked around Karamir once more and stopped, “When I say something, and you don’t understand, you do not say ‘what,’ you should say ‘I’m sorry?’ or even ‘Excuse me?’ to show that you are apologetic for your misstep in the conversation. It isn’t their fault you don’t understand --and even when it is-- it is best to be apologetic when asking for clarification. Simply grunting ‘what’” She mimicked his baritone, “Makes you seem like a crude primitive. Do you understand?”

”Fine. What else?” Karamir asked.

“No no no,” Diana shook her head, “I asked you if you understand, you should either acknowledge that you do understand or let me know if you don’t.” She paused, “For instance, say “Yes, I understand’, or ‘No, not quite’-- and if it is the latter, a good gentleman would attempt to clear up any misunderstanding with a polite question, ‘I bet your forgiveness, but could you elaborate’ or in more casual situations a simple, ‘what-ever do you mean?’ could work.” She tapped her chin, “But you are already casual enough.”

Karamir sighed. All of those were just longer ways of saying what was essentially the same thing. ”Yes, I understand. What next?”

“What IS next,” Diana corrected, “Oh foo, this is going to take a while.” She smiled wide, “At least we are having fun, hm?”

Karamir frowned, but remained silent.

“Oh I can just feel your excitement,” Diana cackled, “Very good, very good. Hm…” She started walking away, “Well come on -- a gentleman always walks parallel with his company, a good two shoulders away usually.”

The frown deepened, but he followed, quickening his pace to walk alongside her. With a slight distance, of course. Every now and gain she would swerve a little close, putting his footing off and making the walk anything but pleasant. She didn’t seem to notice, the soft hum returning as she continued their walk. Every now and again she’d toss a hard to swallow piece of advice, or some rule he never thought to give mention to. In between those she’d correct him, and occasionally fix his posture with a commanding thwack to his back. Their walked continued in this way, all the way west.

Summary

On their way west, Diana hums a foreshadowing hum and then decides its time to make a Gentleman out of Karamir. Karamir isn’t very receptive but eventually capitulates. He then endures not only a makeover, but a barrage of grammar rules.

In the end they continue their walk, Karamir dressed as a Gentleman, and Diana buffeting him with pointers. She is happy to have a friend around.

Might

2 MP and 1 FP start

1fp used to curse Karamir, he will now only find gentlemanly duds comfortable, while all others are rash inducing and itchy.

2 / 5 Misery
5 / 5 Nightmares

2 MP and 0 FP remaining