The Grey Dust

🦄 Duplicity - D&D Style Fantasy Rp Adventure (Completed)

@Lady Amalthea

Well I have no qualms about moving up a level.
And there's a terrible DND joke waiting to be made there.
:D

D&D 5e - High Seas and Tall Tales

Returned from the shadows as the darkness, the final Cerberus lay lifeless. The bisection of the jaws and throat split open revealing the oropharyngeal cavity of the central head. The amount of trauma caused by the Hexblade's darksaber was brutal, and the blood loss the ultimate demise as the two panicked heads tried their best to keep alive. The last moments of terror burned into the retinas, the darkness everlasting as it was pulled unwillingly to the shadowgloam. And even as short of a time it had spent there, no creature remained in the shadows so long without being touched. Anger, Confusion, Fear, and Despair, the four emotions warped and wrapt into a series of bursts until at last death came like a sweet angel to kiss those trembling lips. And alas, the silence of the beast which signaled the conclusion of the battle. Much to the disappointment of the umbramancer who had wanted to feel the bite of those teeth against his ribs, all three whelps were vanquished by the combined forces of the party.

Though his sadomasochistic bloodlust was quelled, it appeared Jill had other plans. Dispelling away the Darkness from Koan's maw, the shining light of dark like dawn rising with fury. The splendor of the heavens radiating through her, her fingertips like the very touch of the divines! And there his eyes could not peel themselves away from such ethereal wonder, the glamour like a shimmering wool over his burning gaze that watched as a young goddess approached him with the sway of her feathery wings that sprouted behind her corona. Her sweet golden voice like the very choir angelic, befitting of a cherubic bard as the meaning of her command became a haze. Perhaps he heard her not? Or did he just naturally fall down from the glory of being in her presence? His knees gave in, falling from grace once more, the retreating shadows fading to the power of Jill's illumination. Upon his knees the fallen aasimar knelt before the other aasimar, stricken with an undeniable urge to serve her. Gone was the sight of Koan who lurked behind him, gone were the shadows that surrounded him. For now, Jill commanded the warlock's attention, her words unwittingly laced with fey guile. He had no choice but to obey, stricken and smitten by her dominating charms.

The next time you banish an enemy I have brought low, I swear upon the heavens...

Words that chilled him, almost branded across his chest as 'Sauron' helpless watched the queen rebuke him. And yet the promise of her action sworn up on the heavens, an oath the aasimar should take with gravity lest they fall, was left unsaid as those glowing eyes blinked back to normal and the cheery girl returned with congratulations all around. Though the radiant one turned away and left him to rise from his trance, slowly feeling the strength return to his lower limbs, the enthrallment still present as his eyes sharpen to gaze at Jill. Indeed the haze in his mind iresome, as the whispers of the dark called back, slowly turning his head towards the once forgotten Koan. Caught between two mistresses, it seems and how he savored the fact that they would tear him apart limb from captured limb. Humbled and his resolve shaken, the sight certainly a display for the rest of the combatants there, it was a cold bath which cleared his thoughts, though still compelled to follow after Jill. The warlock felt the partial tug away from his senses, the subtle nuances of magic that made him obey her command.

"No need for spells if you want me on my knees before you." Tailing after his commander, the object of his want and will, bewitched by the song of the bard. How would Koan take this strange betrayal? Or all his attention lost from her and now directed at the shining Jill? Or would she understand that the bard had played a trick on his foggy mind, by the allure of both women and battle. Either way Noriam stood by Jill, his comment directed only to her as a casual aside, thrown into the mix as the enchanted man reached for his rod. Felt heavy in hand as the pulsating shaft was grasped and pulled free. Long as a wand but far thicker, the potency of the warlock's rod hidden beneath the mantle. Cold tarnished silver metal bore the appearance of a dark wing, yet a polished part bore the spiraling threads which snaked around the rod towards the other end. Tool in hand, his shadow blade sheathed in the darkness of the cloak, waiting to be drawn as if by magic. He would prepare himself for another battle if needed, though his shadow required rest from having pulled those creatures into the dark. For Jill perhaps he would milk one last spell from his rod, and muster up the performance he had given Koan in the darkness. Would Koan pull him back from the light and entice the hexed hexblade into the blinding dark? Or was it Jill who bore the light as blinding as the shadows themselves?

Either way, it seemed there was a lover's quarrel between the more monstrous amongst them. Namely the beholder and kobold, something of a dispute that 'Sauron' had no stake in or any interest in resolving. Thus just as he and Jill became a show for the other, so too did Dyn and Askia. Untill of course a huge tiger threw itself into the whirlpool washing machine like a blue stripped sock, and found itself caught in the beholder's spin cycle. To which their threesome ended with some exchange of tentacle waving. So the lizard followed the fish, and the tiger followed the octopus. Now, who was it that 'Sauron' should follow? The Angel or the Succubus?

Gods: Redux: a Deity RP (FULL)

The Vision of Imhotep

Cogs and wheels scattered across the floor. The winch stuck in the mainspring as a trembling hand turned the key. Once, twice, thrice, oh how great was the labor of love. For years he had poured over his books there in the great library of the greatest of all gods. All manners of education, every lecture attended, the notes he had complied! Oh for this moment of triumph he devoted himself to learning all that he could. Sure he was a lowly overseer within the grand order of the White Moths, but soon, soon! Four, five, six, mentally counting off the turns of the winch as the thoughts flew. With the success of this experiment they would have to promote him. They'd see what wonders he could bring to the order, the value there was in a non-wizard in the city. Those overly snobby mages, rubbing their noses in the books, they jeered at him behind his back, he was certain of it as certain as the simulated sun rises over the city of Akhkabaren. How dare they mocked his lack of spellcraft, an ability that he had no affinity towards. Not all where able to study the art, and wrap their minds around the nature of how reality is an illusion. Twelve, thirteen, fourteen...


The first lesson of magic it to learn what it is. The very fundamentals of the art. And while it seems basic, too many magi cast without this understanding. Magic is in its very essence all around you, not just because we are in Thethoth, but everywhere. The basis of all magic is simple, anyone can learn it in theory, yet practice, practice is another question. Begin by examining what magic is. As I have stated, it is everywhere around us, but what is it? When a sorcerer summons forth flames to boil his tea at the snap of his fingers, what is happening? The flames appear, and this is what we perceive as magic, perhaps one of the most simplest parlor tricks in mundane uses for magic many of us in Thethoth are accused of. And yet what is happening to conjure up those gentle flames is the very work of gods!

The work of gods, yes, the memory of the lecture clear. Long before he was hardly an Initiate in the Order he remembered the words precisely. The bold claims, the mysticism about the speaker, all of it was sophistry, but to a young boy wide-eyed in wonder this talk was like listening to the God of Knowledge himself speak directly into your ear. Everyone could learn magic, hah! What nonsense, if it were true then he would have had to prove himself worthy of the White Moths by writing his treatises on gear ratios. A simple academic challenge, a hoop to jump through, nothing more. By powers or publications, entry into the order was set in either scholarship or spellcraft, any one offering either was admitted entrance into their temples. It was the lowest of all ranks, Initiate, they who sought knowledge and would have to earn their keep by taking care of the tasks. Cleaning, cooking, copying, all the little roles to be played by the newest inductees. Those who had magic could conjure up servitors to do such duties, but those without had to struggle. But it was worth it, years of hardship endured to take up the mantle of acolyte, and from there overseer. Soon they would promote him to curator and he would have his own section within the grand library, or better yet his own satellite library to run. Yes, just keep turning the winch, twenty-six, twenty-seven, twenty-eight...


When our Lord plucked out his own eyes, the knowledge magic was granted to the first magi. They were inept at spells, but understood the nature of them. When you and I see the magical flames to light our kettles, we are blind to the wonder that where there was no fire, there is now. Yet, to the first magic users, the ability to morph reality to their desires was amazing. The Right Eye, one of the Paradoxes of our Lord allows those flames to exist, the exact mechanics of which is beyond mortal comprehension, but I know that without the Right Eye, all magic would cease to function. Magic redefines reality, it is to argue the universe that something should be that never was, or something should not be that truly was. Pause and consider the magnitude of my words, its meaning, the truth being that magic is a way where spellcasters can change the very firmament! The spells are nothing more than carefully constructed ways to convince the world around us to bend to our will, received by the eye and transmitted across to be amplified until the universe can reject us no more. In lieu of fighting our demands, the very fabric of being is rewritten to our will. This incredible cosmic event is what we cast as magic. And the most important rule of magic is...

The memory faded away as the sweat was wiped from his brow. His trembling hands strained at how tight the coils were. He could not stop here, not after thirty-six turns, there would not be enough stored energy to power his device. The great gear springs that needed to be turned, the series of cogs which must work in perfect unison, all relied on mainspring the winch will power. Months of research and even longer of commissioning artists from around Thethoth and beyond to construct each piece by hand. With the all the secrecy needed such that even they knew not what the parts were for. Sure it would have been easier to commission a single craftsman to create all the pieces, but then his would could be replicated. What a terrible thought that he could be copied, his ingenious designs stolen by those amateur clockworkers. He had poured his very soul into the work, it would be all for nothing now if some hack made it first. It was a stroke of paranoia and brilliance that he designed multiple automatra, common clockwork curiosities, that within concealed the true part that was necessary. The precious mainspring for example was form a large chronograph, designed to be sailor's time piece to keep track of the hours with daily winding. It was almost a sin to dismantle a thing of beauty, the golden accents pried apart as the empty shells lie somewhere in the pile. All for the precision mainspring that would wind his marvel up.


That no matter how much you will something to be, reality is an non-static function. Eventually, any spell cast will collapse, by exhaustion of the caster, the spell itself, or reality itself. Should the resolve of the caster fail to see what can be, instead of what is, the spell ends by the shortcomings of the magi. Else, if the spell in itself is flawed, such as by lacking the proper formulations to successfully alter reality, then this too shall fail. And finally, while experience can overcome the first two reasons, the final reason claims all magi alike. It is a well known event known as 'The Blink' which is felt throughout the cosmos, it signifies the Eye resetting itself. The over use of magic, on the world scale will eventually overload the Eye in a predictable cycle and all spells will cease to function for the few moments and need to be recast when the Eye is finished restore its purpose. These three things limit the use of magic to be considerably fleeting. However like our example, the fires produced by magic will have already made the tea water boil. And as such, even if a spell is quickly produced and extinguished. Thus the physical effects may still be retained, even long after the spell is complete, which is why magic is immortal.

Fifty. And not a turn more. It was all he could manage, the coil would no longer wind. It was tight enough already that he feared the winch would snap. Yet still it remained, bearing the pressure that he did, all the aspirations, hopes and dreams. He remembered it well the day he snuck into the lecture hall. A mere boy among the learned men, sitting in the back beneath his heavy robes. He saw them put on their airs, pretending to understand, amusingly lying to themselves as they listened to the speaker drone on and on about the fundamentals of magic. It was almost as if they took magic for granted, the work of the gods, the power of creation and destruction in the hands of mortals. His parents had warned him about meddling in such, it was forbidden for man to wield such blasphemy. Yet there he was, a desert nomad boy, disguised as one of them, observing in their midst and learning what magic was. A fragile tool that offered limited unlimited power at a whim, it was not, as the speaker claimed immortal. No, magic died with every rebirth of the Eye, and it was by the grace of the Grand Magus that it was allowed to continue. And what if someone slew him? The historical wars had proven it was possible to kill a god, and should Great Lord of the Knowledge fall, what should happen to magic?


No. That assement is incorrect. Magic is a mortal as humans are. For they too leave a mark upon the world as proof of their existence. X has given mortals magic as an experiment, it is a tool granted to a child. He watches and observes, from those findings he will draw a conclusion and one day magi will awaken to find themselves powerless. So study magic well, learn to wield it, earn the respect to use it.

The words that lashed out to rebuttal the haughty wizard. The moment where all in the room laughed as they turned towards the boy where the comment seemingly came from, and then were instantly silenced. For quietly sitting beside the boy was the greatest figure among all Magi, considered to be sorcerer supreme, considered a rightful heir by their Lord and bestowed a spark of divinity. How could they have known at the time? The Archmagus had entered as the boy had, quietly and quickly to avoid arousing attention. He remembered how the thinkers quieted, how the elder commanded respect and humbled the presenter. He did not know it at the time, but he had sat beside Atefir, the Fourth Hand, the mortal man who became divine. If anyone knew more about magic than anyone in the room, it was the chosen demigod. But those words left their impression on the boy, what enlightenment came as both his parents and the spellcasters philosophies merged into one in the wisdom of Atefir.


Of... Of course Archmagus, your knowledge and wisdom is beyond our grasp. Forgive my ignorance and stupidity, I am but a dim candle to your sunlight illumination over the desert sands. A thousand pardons I beg of you, I was foolish to think I could understand what magic truly is.

Waving off the admonitions, the demigod had signaled the man to rise and finish. But of course the great master left and the crowds followed to share in his wisdom, and no longer could the boy bask in the brilliance that was discourse. Yet the point remains, what happens when the magic ends? Would they not need a new source of power to prevent a society that suckled on the very nipple of magic to exist crumble? A new age without magic, preparation to be made where mortals can still experience the conveniences they had grown accustom to. Clockwork mechanisms emulated magic enough, surprising ever the most learned spellcaster of how they appeared to move on their own accord. The machinations creating the illusion of unbelievable automation even in a world where servants were made out of stone and clay. Maybe it was the child-like wonder such tinkercraft could elicit, a promise of something new and wonderful, more captivating that actual magic. But alas as he released the tightened winch to watch the mechanism come to life, what would keep the giant gearsprings wound? What answer could parch his lips dry from exhaustion. How could he design a gift equal to magic that they would all know his name for ages to come? When shall he be called Imhotep the Innovator?

---

The Sight of Atefir

The kettle whistled.

The shrill call of a boiling waters, singing the rising note, first breathy and airy until eventually the cry could be ignored no longer. The turbulent bubbling heard within the iron vessel as the fires crackled over the burning coals. The slow roll of angry waters calming like the spring water drawn from the pleasant lake from whence it came. A world away, far from the desert sands, the connected threads interwoven between their thoughts. A reflection of a wizened face appeared as the hot water cascaded down into the stoneware pot like a gentle waterfall. Oh the paradoxes of this land, could perhaps match the ones of his desert home. Of how there could be such peace in a land governed by the goddess of war. This tranquility was to be admired, the blossoms in the gardens within view, the rolling hills of rice and flowering trees upon the scene ridge. A simple Hindoganian teahouse provided a small sanctuary to stop during his worldly travels, seeking out knowledge from lands afar rather than waiting for it to come to him. Admiring the simplicity of it all, the mountains in the far distance, the fragrant salted sea breeze that wafted in the air. Of all the cosmic splendors his journey had taken him, it was moments of leisure that suited his old soul best.

Reclining in his stellar robes he was at ease in the countryside of simple folk, rural farmers with a culture of their own. There was no need for such formalities of mortal, demigod, and god, beings were beings were beings. And he was no different than any other soul looking to purchase some time to relax in his travels. It was as if they had never encounter a demigod, or a foreign visitor at that, as he ventured across the archipelago cataloging the biodiversity there. Perhaps the other demigods ventured into the larger cities of the isles, Toshi no Hi was the place to be. The vibrant crimsons of the pillars and wood, like bloodstains befitting a goddess of war. Perhaps it was a symbol of the tumultuous times past, but erected overlooking the port of sea was the ivory castle perhaps a new metaphor for the purity that sought to rise above the past bloodshed. He had heard much of her father's story, recorded in the recounting of bards and books. It was almost funny that her castle should seek to soar above, like a white heron upon the waters. And yet there was no need to rush for formal audience with the goddess of this land, surely she has knowledge his arrival, he had sent a message in advance. He came not to study the art of war, but rather to study the art of culture and life.


葉が落ちる
緑の丘に
茶の中で

Written across a sheet of desert moth silk, the ink beautifully shimmering ebon black against the creamy white. A small poem to be gifted to the proprietors of the tea house. Maybe the couples were surprised the stranger used the brush so well, a scholar of all things who came upon a strange beast made of a living series of scrolls. They feared him and honored him, perhaps in another paradox, as something they did not understand, but found interesting to know. Was it not the same way for the gods? Such philosophy was for another caste, all they needed here was to farm the land for food and tea, and nothing sates more than a sip of fresh hot tea. Pouring the cups as his old fingers trembled to lift the light pot. Powerful but frail, his ancient bones could no longer bear much weight, requiring a surge of magic to assist his posture beneath the concealment of the robes. Yes they looked impressive, but remove them and all the was left was a skinny bag of skin and bones. Wrinkled as time passed on, each crease a new truth revealed in an epiphany. It was almost a badge of honor by now, a mark of distinction which marked his venerable age. The soothing bittersweet grassiness of steamed tea leaves, the warmth filling the core as Atefir slowly sipped in silence and soothing serendipity. This was a wise stop.

Tomorrow would bring a new sun come dawn, and were the sorcerer would be by then was a mystery to even himself. Perhaps he should pay respects to his... Aunt? Or where they technically contemporaries? The ascension of a god was a topic left untouched in their discussions between creator and created. X had instilled within Atefir a portion of his power, but nothing more came about it. A partial empowerment, neither god nor mortal, but somewhere in a state inbetween. The Archmagus knew the Grand Magus saw him as an experiment, a paradox which would resolve itself one way or another as all paradoxes do. Either he would ascend to godhood proper by his own means, or he would destroy himself as the divinity ate away the mortal vessel. Or perhaps there was another option left unsaid, as the divine tea was savored on the aged palate. Tomorrow, perhaps a visit to the Goddess of War, if only for a formality to demonstrate some filial piety to one's gracious host. But for now, there was tea in the teapot, and a half-dozen students eager to learn about the many adventures in far-away lands beyond the great seas.

"I had journeyed across the land of the eternal sun, they call such a land Solas, there the vast sky above is lit with the great eye of Telios, god of Sun and Sky, where no night dares set foot. The sunbeams danced upon the high mountains that rose the great cities the Sunfolk had made, their great buildings made of solid light itself. It was an experience to hold sunshine in your hand, solid as a brick that paved the roads to the lower city in the river plains. Only those that could fly could enjoy the majesty of the land, as the rivers sparkled like flowing jewelry out across the grassy meadows, but my travels did not end until I had reached the great capital city of Dawn..."

The narrative which began paused as the scholar took a moment to sip his tea.

"A city in the clouds, high above where to reach it you had to climb the highest mountain and bathe yourself in the light that would pull you up into the city. You had to be careful for the edge of the city is a far drop below, but to see those massive white pillars of light was breathtaking. A view of the accomplishments of the Sunfolk no less than the City of Fire. Its people were sunny of course, both in a literal sense, and humorous one, courtly though they were, there was a great friendliness they had extended to me during my visit, albeit I must say you all have treated me just as well, allowing me to reside here in your village and drink your tea for which I am grateful. But where was I? Oh yes, the great splendor of Dawn was not in its mere height above the land, towering over as you can see the very edges of the other nations around it, perhaps even in the distance you can see my city of Akhkabaren, or perhaps rather the inverted pyramid that contains it."

It has been quite some time since Atefir had felt the desert sands but less so another sip.

"But my city is a story for another visit. For in the splendid city of Dawn, in the clouds was the gathering of champions from all nations: The Sky Games. A spectacle of which I had the pleasure of viewing, and once had the honor of partaking in. Or at least in my youth, but now I fear I am far too old to compete against the younger athletes who seek to usurp my title, ah but I digress, forgive me. Where was I? Oh yes, the Sky Games, a show of all the great powers of man and god. All sorts of competitions, from gladiator fights to magical duels, shows of archery and creature riding, yes dragons, native pegasi, even the mighty phoenixes on the command of Telios himself. The clash of titans, fighting for victory and honor, the glory that is to return home champion of an event, it is a thrill which unites everyone watching to cheer on. In truth I can barely begin to describe the awe of watching these events, but perhaps one day people of all nations will see such games in the sky."


And how did you, most honored guest, partake in the games?

"Ah, well I suppose I can speak a little of my own past glory without sounding too narcissistic. But in those days, I was still young, barely beginning to understand the powers bestowed upon me. I sought to test my own abilities, what greater chance was there? While I was easily out matched in brute combat, and never had a knack for archery, I was among the champions of magic. I remember three among the other competitors that I could consider my equal. The lunar siblings, powerful sorcerers in their own right, and of course there was Astaros..."

---

The Eye of Astaros (by BCTheEntity)

For the past week or so, Astaros had been enshrined within his inner sanctum. Not that it was "his" sanctum, of course, but rather an empty room of significant size and, after some modification, immense ability to channel magical power in ways conducive to Astaros' further research into the true depths of his sorcerous might. In this room, he wondered that perhaps even he might be able to stand against a god... though of course, this was folly to so much as consider; if anything, any deities who had followed him here could well be able to use the room to their own ends anyway. Or destroy it with him inside. Still, it was nice to imagine, sometimes.

But not now. Now, he had come so close to fulfilling his latest goal... he had never dared risk trying to use the Left Eye of X himself, for he knew full-well its long-term effects. But, he had long toyed with the thought that perhaps its powers could be replicated on a smaller scale - no capacity to oversee the entirety of reality... but maybe the capacity to observe one particular entity within that reality.

And figuring out how to channel even a tiny portion of the Left Eye's abilities had been an unbelievably strenuous task, not just the channelling itself, but figuring out how to pull it off without dissolving whatever object was the focus of that effort into the fabric of space-time itself, essentially evaporating it into nothing. But at last, he thought he had it, and packed into a compass-like device that could be held in your hand no less!

The actual location protocol, frankly, was a simple case of triangulation: if you knew what your target was, where the target location was, or for instance the unique "signature" of a target's soul, then you could key that into the Compass along with any arbitrary location, say the entrance to X's library, and have the object triangulate between itself and the other two points. It would account for distance, provide gentle telepathic nudges to keep the user moving in the right direction, and even inform them when they reached the best point to teleport into the dimension the target was in, if that applied. It was wonderful.

And it had been a horrendous task to figure that and all the other logistics out just to start with. The week of actual channelling had been one of the hardest in his life, to boot: no breaks for any reason, power coursing through his body until it burned even to breathe, his magical prowess pushed close to its limits even for its might... all in pursuit of a goal that X could probably already achieve passively. Then again, what sort of demigod would Astaros be if he didn't push himself to prove he was worthy? What sort of future deity might he prove himself if he didn't, well, prove himself? And more to the point, an item he could carry around and retune would be far more helpful in the long run than just going to X every time he needed to find something in the wider world, rare as that need was.

But at last, the ritual came to its end. The final incants were spoken, the final gesticulations performed, one last burst of energy, and finally, Astaros was able to slump to his knees, catching his breath for what felt like hours before he regathered his strength. Drawing himself to his full ten foot height, and flexing his wings to stretch them back out, he stepped gingerly over to the Compass - visually very similar to the usual sort of compass save that its frame was largely a vivid purple colour, an item he could hold in one hand that would nonetheless require a normal human to use two, with instructions for its use scribed on the back side, just in case.

With this, he had decided long ago, he would sally forth, in search of the old man who he considered his rival in magic, the demigod called Atefir. He'd not been to X's library in a long time. There was a comparison to be made... and information to be discussed. He'd tell X he was leaving, but... well, he'd know

Three stories intertwined. Four of Three sets of eyes that see. How will they be written? How would they conclude? Such are the mysteries to be observed, life seen through the eyes of others. There floating beneath the branches of his tree, a tree held sacred by his white moth cultists as his tree of meditation, the God of Knowledge watched the world go by. Few times did he leave the sanctum of his library, for few things could pull the attention of X from his books. It was his task after all, directed as the last mandate of the creator: to study, seek, and scribe. All things in creation were to be cataloged, known, and labeled, from concepts to living beings, of which long since he had done. There was a time once where he harvested, in the early moments of creation there was more work to be done, volumes to be recorded, but now with his fanatic followers he can afford to remain within his chamber, watching the universe through the hundreds of eyes which reveal the world to his mind.

X had sacrificed his eyes, but in return gained millions more. Dozens of visions, seen through the compound eyes bearing a many faceted view. Emirs seeing their cities below from above their palaces, Viziers looking at their Emirs to manipulate them, Guards to foil such plots. Each series of captured images painting the tale, without words it was hard to see the silent film, but understanding became easy when the greatest secrets are revealed, the thoughts too many write down as a ward against the failing memory. Plans written like notes, clear as day to amuse the watching god. Only the blind could keep secrets from X, or those perhaps living in darkness eternal. One day he must visit the curious god beneath the ground to record its thoughts and views yet it like he preferred the solitude of being peerless. Despite the ever present White Moth Magistrates that study beneath him, waiting for X to bless them with a few words of knowledge. Yet his silence was hard to overcome, almost aloof to the praises and worships of his followers. X did not demand empty laud, he required they do as he: to seek, study, and scribe. Only a few spells and incantation broke the silence, else most of the Magistrates kept the eerie ambiance of a greater institution of learning, exclusive and cold, beyond the reach of commoners.

Alas, the visions of another god. And then darkness. So ends the series, the melodrama cut short as the sight faded and was replaced with another. It would be some time before the channel returned in the underworld, and until, then perhaps X sought to focus in sights on the three who would bring a new age about. Imhotep, a tinkerer, working on his machines for the future. What shall become of him? Should X nudge the mortal with divine inspiration? Or should he intercede and lock the secrets the man was so close to discovering away? Perhaps it would be wise to see how far the man can accomplish on his own before throwing the gods into an arms race. Fire was the first scrap of knowledge so casually given, and look what humans have made of it. Then there was Atefir and Astaros. Either a paradox in his own sense of the word. Two experiments ran side by side, a human turned into a demigod and a demigod of humans, which would complete the apotheosis first? Who shall cast off the mortal cocoon and transform himself? The allegory of a fluttering desert moth. Why One had fallen even now, shedding from the meditation tree the rare petal to gently float into the hand of a god.

With the stirring of a god's hands, the transformation began as wings folded out and legs began to crawl against the divine palm. The twitching antennae, the unsteady and uncertain flap of powdery wings. The new being finding itself in the presence of its creator, X the God of knowledge, secrets and magic. Uncertain, of its magical birth, the creature crept along, feasting on the abundance of divine magic until its wings were strong enough to lift itself off the palm. There without looking back the Moth began to take to the air.

Fly little moth.

5e D&D - Mines of Phandelver

And alas it was over, the spoils of battle won. To the victors the bountiful harvest of the experience, culminated thus so. They had ventured into the Inferno and returned prosperous ever more. Or at least those that survived. Picking through the bits of Bar that littered the floor, the psion mentally scoffed that he could not tell the difference between the bones the orc and those of his trophies. No one else had the will to get on their hands and knees to muck through the mess, bloody carnage swayed their stomachs to avoid the messy work. But for an orphan, digging through the piles of garbage was the very thing that kept you alive. Thus the mute was no stranger to the finer arts of corpse looting, picking up the undertaker's craft, checking for all the valuables left like a carrion crow (No offence to the Kenku). The hefty coinpurse for example dangling beneath the belt was appreciated and purloined so underhandedly out of sight from the rest of the Party. A sum of ten gold coins, that which was promised to them for the entire journey, to which the barbarian's death could have well ended the journey here for the orphanage manager. This small fortune could feed them for a month or more!

Yet he was a man of his word, and a sense of moral justice. Those ten coins belonged to the party now, and he'd need to claim his own pay later from either the dead corpse of the dwarf that hired them or the living man himself. A twist of the hand sprang the wrist-mounted blade which slashed through the discarded backpack. What small satchel of rations and waterskin Bar had carried along for the journey was also liberated from the pack, and a coil of rope that would perhaps be useful. There was a hunter's beartrap that the orc carried for some reason, at which given the human lacked the brutish muscles of the larger idiot, it would be left behind here along with the orc's camping gear that smelled of unwashed arse. They'd all thank him later for his essential grave robbing, the rope and provisions would probably aid in a rescue effort. The food and water for a living captive, and the rope to haul a dead body back to town.

The wolves on the other hand were another issue. They lacked pockets, well at least ones that the psion cared to stick his hands in, and thus there was little to offer but their meat and hides. The dire wolf fur would have been quite a nice cloak or duvet for the orphans after mending a few slashes, and the smaller wolves maybe a new pair of boots. Yet every moment wasted here was a greater chance of a patrol finding their guard dogs dead. This was no time to properly skin the bodies, even with all of Bar's sharps so readily available to skin. And they had topped off on rations and thus had little use for wolf meat to butcher. That and their resident butcher was butchered by them. It would be ridiculous to expect the lanky psion to lift Bar's greataxe to hack and chop the wolf bones apart. Even if a dire wolf head probably fetch a decent price as a decorative piece.

Casting thoughts of maximizing the spoils, there was a geologic curiousity in the back of the wolf den noticed as the silent one rose from the bodies. There was a crevice, small and narrow, tight enough for a single soul to just squeeze by. A pass that bore the pile of bitten bones, wmarks of scratches below, and stains of dried blood along the walls. A feeding pit it appeared, for these wolves though the clean-picked bones suggested they had no food come to them for so long. Maybe someone more athletic or acrobatic could scale the rock-face walls and venture to see what fed the beasts. Yet if there was indeed something that fed the mongrels, then, would it be so wise to venture up a pass where the master was?

As he returned to the group, the mute caught sight of the darkness deeper within the cave, going to the rippling rush of river water blind was ill-advised. They had been lucky so far no one detected their arrival, it was better to keep it in such a way and sneak about. Though the darkness was not suited for human eyes, the fact the goblins had no signs of light beyond the mouth of the cave suggested it would be a strange sight for them to see a torchlight within their cave. In fact, did any of the goblins they had killed carry torches as Bar had? The psion couldn't recall any, and what better way to signal the goblins they had guests than with a light in the darkness? So perhaps the perilous ledge would have been the best recourse after all.

Thus, it was settled and eyes gazed at Kiki & Adriane before looking down at the Kenku, they looked the sort to be limber enough to crawl through the crevice. Then there was Seethe who was probably not willing nor up to the challenge, similar to the psion himself who were men of the mind rather than outright muscle. Thus remaining was the stinky stone sorcerer, the one who spoke with his lisp and all the enthusiasm. Now he was a man of muscle, like Bar, bulky but biceps plentiful. Surely he, with his earthen affinity, could climb the stone cliff if anyone in the party. With his mental assessment calculated, and nose prepared for the stench, the mute beckoned the Goliath over with a hand. Another hand pointed over at the narrow pass as the game of charades began, sure it would have been easier to use telepathy to communicate, yet the less the others knew about his powers the better.

Ah now the rope would come in handy. All the sorcerer had to do was climb up with the rope, and the rest could use it to shimmy themselves up. Or better yet, if the sorcerer was smart enough in using his powers over earth demonstrated earlier in burying the dead. If indeed he had sway over stone like he had dirt, Brim could cut a ladder-way out of the rockface and save himself all the trouble of having to climb. Yet the rope was produced regardless and gestured at Brim before pointing upwards towards the food drop chute. Time for a test of Brim's ability, and more so how smart the sorcerer and party was in using their brains beyond their brawn. It could be easier if the psion made himself leader and directed everyone into doing what he willed them to, but that would be rude to do to newfound allies.

mechanics

Investigation Roll for Loots: 1d20+5 = (18)+5 = 23
Sleight of Hand Roll for Loots: 1d20+2 = (20)+2 = 22

D&D 5e - High Seas and Tall Tales

In the depths of the abyssal zone, deep beneath the ocean's waves the most curious creature swims. Here in where no light can hope to penetrate the miles of sea above into the eternal darkness below, the deep sea anglerfish makes her home. There in the starless midnight her unseen beauty remains unseen by feeble eyes, such horrific visage that awaits a promising suitor. Her eyes glass marbles uncaring and unseeing, her mouth always gaping to show unruly fangs against those fish lips. Her body little more than a curvaceous lump of flesh, her head far too large and hideous for the oblong parts that remain. A living stomach which thanks the shadows that may hide its ugly truth, as twisted and revolting as its mutated appearance may be. And yet in the darkness everlasting, a creature so foul to the eyes find herself so many eager mates. With her angelic light placed upon her misshapen brow, a taunting lure cast out in the darkness. Closer and closer still did he come to her, drawn in by the beauty of her light and terror of her jaws. A truly twisted attraction as her mate swims to her glowing charm. And then his teeth nip at her gob of chin or perhaps her backfat, what kinks they share together with his bite. Together they swim on, dancing in the darkness of the wettest night, their marriage completed as they mate. He who clings on to her, attracted by her light, devotes himself to her proper. His mind lost, his heart hers as his pulse synchronizes with her, and his self-destructive fate is sealed in this unholy union. He becomes nothing more than a slave to her needs to breed, a fleshy appendage of her own body as useless as the many other suitors that have fallen for her.

To swim away with taunting jest, to tease and deny him, oh how befitting of the anglerfish was Koan to the warlock. A dark allure that jaunted away from his watering jaws at the last moment. Their discourse in interplay was as intercourse on display if it were not for the sea-swept shadows that enfolded their forbidden tryst. They may hear perhaps the flirtatious exchange, but their eyes could not see into the magical darkness surrounding the playmates. Thus leaving what went on perhaps to the imagination with what actions the umbral one pursued. It all seemed a game perhaps, but was not love such a game? A dangerous one for the question of who bites who? And certainly all the ladies present would have made any man seek to throw himself at one of them. Jill with her youthful angelic beauty, contrasted by Koan's shades-of-grey fantasy. The huge tiger-fish of scales and skin and fur, contrasted by the wiry frame of the reptilian kobold. And of course there was the lightning bladed mer who in her city guard apparel, starkly contrasted the piratical male beholder. So who was there to contrast the shadowed one? Or was he an amalgam of two? Jill on his right, Koan on his left, the the angel and devil on the shoulders of man.

But alas, the lines were not quite clear cut as the lines slashed across the dogs by blades. Koan bore the light, and Jill too began to show her darker side. A dominating control that demanded the dog before her to kneel, despite the gentle touch she gave the tiger's paw. What pain it was to choose between them both, which to follow, which to obey? The dog knelt whimpering in fear and submission, alas this toy broke already too, the fun taken out by the mystic's use of illusion? There was no lick of bite left in those three jowls, no possibility of harm even as the Fallen stepped out of the netted darkness into the dimmer light of sea. In armor of darkness born of his own shadow, gripping his blade in both hands while swift gliding across the currents. The black ruffles of his manta cloak propelling the dark one across, swimming freely before being engulfed once more into shadows as he caught up with his femme fatale. Absorbed once more, but not as close as before, no at least a pace away as he slyly turned away with a tease of his own to give a smirking grin of a bloodthirsty killer to his playmate. It was time to show off, and give Koan and Jill quite the demonstration of just how good 'Sauron' was with his sword.

The upswing, both hands wrapt around the wispy ink, the cutting edge grazing across the surrounded beast's chest. A diagonal slash from lower right to upper left, the warlock drew the cut, light as a tickle with the precision of simply inflicting a minor gash. Scraping across as his arms pulled the darksaber through the waters from his hip, and swung the tip around to the zenith of the dog's central stare as it sat there and took it like the whelp it was. There was the moment of power, the total domination of the pup as it seemed to shrink in size before the powerful 'Sauron.' Those eyes that glanced at Koan and Jill now merely had eyes for the pathetic mutt, burning a gaze so terrifyingly malicious with the fires burning like the very black coals that stoked the devil's furnace when all hell froze over.

"Shadow Force."

The vertical slash. No more the flesh wound that barely scratched, but now a deeper cut straight down from the nose of the central head down its throat and chest. A mortal wound laced with the power of shadows that gathered from the surrounding darkness, swirling and dancing across the edge barely contained as the gathered energy crackled with blackness. A slice which parted through the beast's jaws, splitting them in twain as flesh ripped apart during the destructive wave of force emitted from the blade. Dispersing itself as the darkness was unleashed, tearing apart the muscle, bone and sinew easily as the swordsman bathed in a sadist's ecstasy. Even if Jill could not see, Koan could watch and perhaps admire how he dealt with their broken toy. A useless sniveling dog was no fun to seekers of torment, if it cared not to fight back and squirm like the worm it was.

"Shadows take You! Worthless Maggot."

And by his command the shadows did. Seeping out of the open wound, gushing out like black blood as the tendrils wove around its lacerated neck. Binding the broken sides together as the black collar entwined the dying head and around the panicked two yelping as they found themselves sinking back into the darkness. What struggles they had whimpering away for mercy as the shadow chain pulls them in, dragging them into the abyss headfirst until it was no more. Vanished once more just as the last to a realm of darkness. For now, only one remained to be dealt with, as infernal eyes returned to Koan and a hand extended to take his dancing partner. To join her once more, alas the anglerfish. Together may their dance of death, domination and darkness continue on with their next unworthy seadog.

mechanics

Move Action: Swim/Move 40 feet (manta cloak) to (10, -9) 5 feet east from Cerberus C, 10 feet North of Koan.
Attack Action 1:
Longsword Attack 1 vs Cerberus C with Flanking Advantage = 2d20k1+11 = (5+7)+11 = 18 -HIT!
Longsword Attack 1 vs Cerberus C Versatile Damage = 1d10+5+2 = (1)+5+2 = 8 Slashing
Bonus Action: Prepare Banishing Smite on Next Weapon Attack.
Attack Action 2:
Longsword Attack 2 vs Cerberus C with Flanking Advantage = 2d20k1+11 = (6+3)+11 = 17 -HIT!
Longsword Attack 2 vs Cerberus C Versatile Damage = 1d10+5+2 = (8)+5+2 = 15 Slashing
Banishing Smite Damage = 5d10 = (6+9+3+10+9) = 37 Force
Banish Condition Cerberus C <50 HP remaining? -MET!
Outcome: 23 Slashing + 37 Force damage to Cerberus C who is banished for 1 minute (10 rounds) or until concentration end.

🦄 Duplicity - D&D Style Fantasy Rp Adventure (Completed)

Not much to post sadly.
When the smoke settles I guess I can do more things XD
But taking an inaction action right now for Nor to finish stabby mcstabbing the pincushion.

🦄 Duplicity - D&D Style Fantasy Rp Adventure (Completed)

Thomas Richard Harrison

Location: Barad-dûr (The Tower).
Interacting with: None.

Everything was going along swimmingly. Which was strange to the young sorcerer. Given the nature of their last encounter, he had expected these guardians to be far more challenging. Tin clad undead? There was something that did not bode well, but alas Thomas could not put his finger on what was amiss. There was a nagging thought in the back of his mind that this was all too easy. An Ill-defended tower, of which the voice so tauntingly claimed to be an abode, such simple guardians taken down by a rag-tag group of rapscallions did not seem equivocal of a force that ravaged orc tribes. Was this a trap to lure them into a false sense of security? For when dealing with undead, they were never truly dead until their remains were ashes. Yet not all the armors had been animated, maybe it would do well to strike those down as well? Regardless it seemed Nor had the last undead down and taken care of. At which Leaves Thomas free to allow the dwarf to continue stabbing the ex-ex-person as the barber pleased.

Focusing on the stairway now instead, Thomas judged this battle to be over soon unless another enemy should make itself known. Either shambling down the stairway to taunt them or appearing otherwise somehow. After all, the necromancer was able to see and hear their arrival. There may be some scrying going on, but the boy was unable to detect such on faint traces. As such it was better to be on guard, and keep a spell ready to be cast should something suddenly appear. They should probably investigate the room when this was all over, and see if there was more to this floor than they originally saw before the battle. Or alternatively they could hurry up to the top while the momentum was hot. He had a few spells left from his preparation... With an ace up his sleeve that would be his final gambit.

D&D 5e - High Seas and Tall Tales

"How disappointing it broke already." The umbramancer's voice twinged with a combination of loss and invigoration. The battle surely aroused him, the shadows around him bolstering his strength as the essence of his hex-marked foe was breathed in like liquid ecstasy. There the defeated beast fell victim to the shadows, the fading curse upon its central head sapping what dying life it before growing cold. This mongrel was easy, being the enmity of the hexblade. Yet the other two would be more of a challenge for his skills. Thus with his eyes glancing about the victorious lot, he knew they could make short work of these mutts for the excess of pure obliteration had rendered the dogs undone. Tiger rending flesh, light like searing fire. Everything all in excess for the sheer part of flogging a dead horse, and as much as he loved flogging there was no fun when there was no response.

The shadows at his arm shifted once more, the tendril of darkness swirling around as it snaked around the caster's arm. Pulled by his will at last, the lash became a blade. The simplicity of it all, an edge with which to cut, a handle of which to grasp. A dark saber, the weapon of a hexblade. Not as clumsy or random as a blaster. An elegant weapon for a more civilized age. Still kept in the darkest darkness, twas perhaps impossible for others still to see save for the divine Koan. The mistress by his side, with eyes as manic as his was grim. A playdate to be made, for even if she bore the light and dark, so too did he. Or at least he once did, perhaps as dim as it may be now. Would they court? Or would Jill be the one to save him from his own inner black? Or was it that she was sent to bring him to her, this Koan? Grand schemes of heaven cast away the Fallen aasimar grabbed his eager sword, feeling the shadows shifting with anticipatory power. The whispering wisps urging, begging you to kill.

A whistle.
Mocking lips made clear across the sea.
A beckon for the dogs to return to their newfound master.
Rising from the shadows the hounds were regurgitated back.
To see the remains of its brethren dead and lying.
Submit or suffer the same fate.

= Mechanics

Triggers: Hexed Doggo B dies, restoring 15 HP to Noriam. HP 64/64.
Free Action: Dismiss Shadow Whip.
Action: Summon Shadow Blade.
Free Action: Stop Concentration, returning Doggos A and C back per Banish spell.
(The targets reappears in the space it left or in the nearest unoccupied space if that space is occupied.)

Full House

You're... You're alive D:!

And not a frankenzombie potato? D:!

Hurray! :D!
Uh... Hrm I'll have to see juggling quite a few rps right now.
I think we are waiting on Sil to confirm :P

Gods: Redux: a Deity RP (FULL)

X, God of Knowledge

X the God

Name: X (pronounced “ecks”), The Divine Scholar, Grand Magus, The Blind Teacher, Faceless One (and may other epithets according to which race refers him).

True Name: Apocrypha

Gender: Male

Symbols:

Symbol of Secrets

A circle with an X, representing something not only disallowed once, but twice over as something truly forbidden. It is also a reference to his namesake.

Symbol of Magic

A Moth with two pairs of wings, representing the mystical nature of magic, a metamorphosis of change from the natural state. They are also associated with the divine creations of X: the Ma'at. It is the emblem of the Order of the Moths, a group devoted to the knowledge and the magical arts as devotees and servitors of X.

Appearance:

The Faceless face of God:

Appearing to both Mortals and Gods in the same form, X does not differ his appearance to either party. There is nothing to hide from Mortals in his appearance, as it reveals scarcely anything. It is easy to discern X is a God by the otherworldly manifestation, and yet knowing X is a God is meaningless in itself for no one but X knows anything more. A flowing robe conceals his physical manifestation, dissolving the God to little more than a pair of long slender hands emerging from the sleeves and a partial face beyond the veil of eternal mystery. There is no face beyond the lower half of his visage, and in truth nothing beneath the robes.

Personality:

Divine Wisdom:

A mystic god who challenges the very idea of Omniscience. While it is possible to consider that X is a god of knowledge, that is a bringer of knowledge, he is also the force which obscures it. There are things which even the Gods themselves cannot answer perhaps of their own creation or the world before anything. X is the guardian of such forbidden knowledge, keeper of the arts of Magic and Mystery. It is he that conceals the musings of fate, it is he that knows the outcomes before it happens. It is he that governs the laws and functions of how the universe works for it is he that knows the inner workings. His thoughts cryptic and revealing, speaking directly and yet in metaphors and riddles of countless paradoxes. There is no better adviser than X for his insights existed long before the moment and the question was asked.

Created to be what he was, a watcher and recorder, X is a bureaucratize scientist, who's true dominion lies between the ears. Seeking to become more and more omniscient as he studies the world, recording all that is and was, and to be fated. Fulfilling his purpose and role in the divine cosmic order, seeking out the secrets and judging if they were too dangerous to fall into the hands of mortals. Or even gods. With many varied roles to play, X has becoming a prominent enough figure among his siblings, and most should consider his pursuit of purpose to remain within his assigned task. However, this begs the question if one as knowledgeable as X is sated with being a mere tool for a higher entity. There are suggestions of his desire to be the one commanding it all by birthright of intellect, and perhaps it is this reason why he remained so neutral in the wars.

Major Domain: Knowledge.

Minor Domains: Secrets, Magic

Weaknesses:

Bane of a God:

True Name: Those who call upon him by his true name, may gain the services of the God. As he is bound to serve the speaker of his name.

Logic: Those who can place a argument for or against an action to be done, will gain the services of the God to execute such action or inaction. To sway and manipulate him however, is difficult with his presage.

Blindness: Although restoring sight is an simple task, X chooses to remain blind and instead sees the world through the vision of others. Thus if one can cleverly use this lack of vision, it is possible to outwit a god.

Avatar:

Wadjet, The Magnum Opus

The made of the desert sands, born of the very cosmos,
The omniscience sleeps within the cocoon until awoken,
To wipe out that which X deems anathema and bury it forever.

A being of absolute power composed of magical sand, it is the wellspring of knowledge, able to fluidly change shape and reform at will. Instilled with its own sentience and reality-warping magic, it awaits its creator's command to rise. Its greatest power is not in its god-level magical abilities, but rather its evolving intellect, capable of rapidly adapting, learning and changing its resilience and tactics to fulfill the command of X. Physical attacks are sloughed off, while magical ones are counted with equal force, all with the ever shifting sands that compose it. It may take the appearance of a full colossus, or simply a large-half torso rising from the desert sand. Capable of great destruction to erase anything that offends X, the sleeping colossus rarely awakens due to X's neutral stance and general permissiveness. Thus it befittingly lies in secret, a sight few have seen in action, and fewer still survive to tell of its existence.

Stance:

Thoughts from Thought

Since the death of Fate, the entire world is left without purpose. The destruction of the Creator God and the ascension of a new Goddess of War marks the beginning of the end. The imbalance must be corrected, and a new King of the Gods must rise. Yet without anyone to act as Fate and guide the process, who shall be the one to restore balance to the cosmos? Who shall gather the cores of the surviving gods stop the cycle of destruction? The one King must be allied with all the gods. And yet... Perhaps it is right to seek out the body of the fathers to learn from.

Loyalty During the Rebellion:

Neutral

Knowledge came to the conclusion that neither side would be able to overpower the other. The feat of striking down the Allfather was impressive, but not without the certainty of mutual destruction. A powerplay done as an upheaval of the heavens, and X served as recorder of such events, and consul to whoever seeks what he had to offer. The many deaths of fellow gods recorded in his books, the first being Fate.

Center of Power:

The Tree of Knowledge

The living embodiment of collective sentience, the core of X's power is a microcosm of its own. Inside the crystal orb a tree that lives for as long as thoughts may occur. The more leaves it has the more minds to sustain the discourse, yet should it appear frail and dying, the more ignorance is upon the world. Kept in a massive tree which grew around it, within his chambers the core is guarded by X and his magics to require multiple Gods working in unison to render the world dim and dumb.

Relations:

The Librarian of Heaven

In accordance to his purpose, X maintains his neutrality. Few enemies he considers, the other gods are neutral or friendly, though perhaps he cannot see himself as an ally to anyone in particular due to his stance on keeping knowledge open for the gods. What favoritism would surely tarnish his impartial view on the fellow gods.
Yet that is not to say some views are more welcoming than others. Though each God or Goddess has a purpose, and no enmity should arise from such fulfillment of one's purpose.

Notes on the Gods

God of Darkness - Friendly: Darkness which brings meaning to light, he hides away his secrets as I.
God of Dragons - Neutral: Lord of the serpents, his children make for specimens of awe in eating my followers.
Gods of Fertility - Neutral: Populates the world, without them life fails to blossom in new iterations.
God of the Forge - Friendly: Progress past creation, he shall usher in a new age by steel and fire.
God of The Hunt - Neutral: To hunt for a sliver of information, without him all would remain hidden.
God of Knowledge - Self: Knowledge brings forth more Knowledge, we are one together in this.
Goddess of Life - Neutral: That which begins the experiment, she is the river that quenches thirst.
God of Lust - Neutral: A being true to desires, without him there is no motivation to act.
God of Mankind - Friendly: Lord of such curious creations, he is made for them truly.
God of Murder - Friendly: Silencer of Secrets, he is most useful to hold the spread of forbidden knowledge.
Goddess of Nature - Neutral: Tempered as the changing seasons, she is as beautiful as she is fierce.
God of Predators - Neutral: King of the beasts, he prides his untamed savagery.
God of The Sea - Neutral: A mind ever changing as the seas, he is the madness within lurking.
God of Sorrows - Friendly: The bringer of hope, he lights the path for the lost traveller.
Goddess of Storms - Neutral: Destroyer of civilizations, she erases what is built for new growth with her rain.
God of The Stars - Friendly: What stories are written among the stars, he is heavens own scribe.
God of the Sun - Friendly: The celestial eye, he bears the blinding truth of light.
God of Undeath - Friendly: An offer to mortals of false immortality, his methods are to be noted.
God of The Underworld - Friendly: The departed souls bear information, he is librarian of souls.
Goddess of War - Friendly: A third generation goddess, she has far surpassed her father.

Powers:

Divine Arcana

Shared Sight: his elective blindness closes one door, but opens many more in return. Without eyes X borrows the sight of others anywhere he wills. Their vision becoming clear in his mind as a surrogate method to see the world. Such a feature can be extended to any number of individuals, as many as his mind cares to process and attend to creating a many faceted view. The seer is generally unaware of being used in such a manner, but astute observers can notice a shadowy figure of the god within the reflected in the used pupils. Such ability allows him to experience the life through the eyes of a mortal, while also allows him to keep watch over what occurs in the world around him.

Mind over Matters: Not a physical combatant amongst the gods, X is hardly capable in hand-to-hand combat. However his head-to-head prowess is beyond most gods. His mind is a mental bastion, incorruptible and unswayed by anything but logic. Most powerful however is his ability to presides over knowledge. With a touch he can bestow any amount of knowledge he desires into the mind, capable of suddenly enlightening even the most feral of creatures to cosmopolitan levels. However with the same touch done for a different purpose, X can perfectly erase the thoughts of others, absorbing them for his purposes as the memory is obliterated. A mind-crushing ability that can render lesser beings into a tabula rasa state. Allowing him to fill the mind with whatever he information chooses.

Divine Magic: Patron of magic and the granter of it upon mortals, X can warp reality to his will as it is his own eye which is being used as the conduit to do so, while another anchors reality to avoid its complete destruction. This reality warping is produced as magic, making mass appear and disappear, changing forms from one to another, opening holes in the fabric to summon things as necessary from far flung places. Anything one can imagine can be executed, produced within an area equal to how much strain the fabric of reality can hold. Of course when using magic to contest a gods own element, such a point is moot as even X's magic cannot supercede the authority of a god's own being. However, he can reproduce similar powers of other gods, albeit it to a lesser effect as magic merely bends reality not break it.

Incorporeality: Being little more than half a face and a pair of hands floating beneath a hooded robe, X is a difficult god to grasp, both mentally and physically. He floats defying natural laws, wispy and ethereal save for times he chooses to be solid. Curiously The robes are very much part of his body, suggesting his form is chosen in such a way. Which in turn, begs the question if he is able to change forms or if this is how he was created.

Godly Equipment:

Paradoxes of X

Collectively known as the Paradoxes of X, these are the instruments of the god though rarely found on his person. They are stored away elsewhere until recalled or summoned. The Ledger for example is stored within the grand temple of the Order of the Moth which resides in his capital city of Akhkabaren. While the Hand and Eyes are out of the reach of most mortals in the heavenly realm.

The Divine Ledger

One of the paradoxes of X. A mystical book of infinite pages, each turn does nothing to thin the amount of information contained. It is considered to be the god's Mind, for the Ledger contains everything, every possible scrap of knowledge that was or will be, contained within the ancient tome. Every book ever written, every manual, every guide, anything said by anyone at any point in existence, is recorded within the Ledger. And yet it is impossible for anyone to use without understanding how to use it to find what information they need, rather than what they want. Within the bindings the secrets to the universe and more, but should the book judge this knowledge is not pertinent to you, then it will allow a desperate fool to flip page after page trying to seek the answer they were unworthy to know. Such a book was used by X to create his great library, storing the innumerable amount information within a finite space.

The Third Hand

Another Paradox of X. A mystical weapon the size and appearance of a god's stone hand, a pulsating core of arcana embedded in its palm. Described as a Hand severed from his own divine body, the relic is linked with X. The god's will becoming its actions, able to move freely and create the same reality-warping effects of magic through the arcane essence it wields. The same core allows the hand to manifest various energy weapons to be used in combat should another god weapon be used, sending out the weapon without harm to the controller. It is a weapon that wields itself.

The Right Eye

Still another Paradox of X. A mystical tool the size and appearance of a massive stone orb, a cracks with arcana leaking through. It is the heart of magic, pulsating its power throughout the cosmos. Described as X's Right Eye, plucked out to bestow the knowledge of magic upon the mortal world. It blindly provides the source of all sorcery, without consideration for what purpose they are used for. However it does limit how much magic can be done, as its function serves as a basis to all magic. Any magic invoked is an argument against reality, it is to convince the universe that something should be where it was not, a flame appearing at your fingertips is the remaking of reality to accommodate your request for fire magic. This relic amplifies the ability of the argument, allowing those who control the massive object or even in its presence to shape reality with ease as the supreme magical being. However the more it is used, the more cracks shall appear on its shell, until finally the inner core is released and all magic shall be undone, every spell that was ever cast unwoven as true reality snaps back into place and the eye once more is encased.

The Left Eye

The last Paradox of X. A mystical device the size and appearance of a massive crystal orb containing an unstable core of energy, swirling the faint traces of particulates within the hollow sphere. It is the nexus, a singularity point connecting the cosmos through space and time. Described as X's Left Eye, plucked out and placed at the critical juncture in the universe such that his gaze sees all upon the mortal world. It serves as a junction between space and time, an anchor for reality which may change under the influence of magic. This stabilizes the fabric even while parts of it are being tailored and remade, while also allowing portals to be made and scrying to be done. Both are methods to fold the pieces of reality closer, swirling portals to teleport you from one gateway to another all use the singularity as a place in transit, while scrying works to bring images of the destination into view. This relic allows those who control the massive object or even in its presence to view and travel through any point reality with ease. However the more it is used, the more fractured the user will become, scattered throughout the fabric with every use, becoming blinder with each scry and less corporeal with every journey. Until eventually, the user becomes part of the fabric, part of the silent consciousness of the universe.

Kingdom of God:

Thethoth, Realm of Endless Sands

The southern desert was not always a desert. Thethoth was once known by another name, but such a name is long forgotten in the minds of mortals. It was here where X the god of Knowledge, Secrets and Magic plucked out his eyes and cast them to the heavens, granting the gift of magic to the world in exchange for his blindness. His hands touched the earth and from the earth raised his tower. A library where he gropingly planted the seed in fertile earth around the Core. And to conceal his tree, the blinded god decided to make an inhospitable desert. So all three were born, Magic, Tree, and Desert sand: thus Thethoth began.

Lands

Land of Sand and Stone

A desert, arid and hot, the jutting stones that dot the landscape break the monotony of flattened sand.
The sands are endless and expand indefinitely, to every side around you with no cooling oasis is sight.
The sweltering heat beats down and the towering pillars shadow the shifting sands, life thirsts and withers.
Armies would slow to a crawl between the heat, sandstorms and rough terrain, and ill prepared travelers die.
Generally an inhospitable place to survive without magic, and only passing birds pick at the sun-bleached bones.
Yet still it thrives, it manages, the touch of magic upon the land allowing some life to exist on the edges. Camels and horses for example, wander sands in search for the rare oasis, created by the magics of the beings that live there.

Thethothian Nights

The nightfall is cool, but ever dry, guided only by the celestial sky the desert moths emerge from the sands. These white moths flutter through the desert, an unbelievable sight as they fly in the air searching for a lush oasis to pollinate and lay their young before returning to their sandy burrows. These moths are for the most part harmless, though have an affinity to magic as normal moths may have to a flame. They are a symbol of the desert, and perhaps the only life native to it as the land.

People

Men of Thethoth

Of the people who do survive to find the pockets of life scattered across the endless lands, most are magically inclined or in the company of mages. Some settlers have managed to live within the cities that dot the central landscape, each protected by magical structures built long ago. The majority of the populace are humans, however other races can be found intermingling. As these meccas of life thrive at the foot of pyramids and monoliths which make the desert more bearable. People usually come seeking some information or magical trade goods that fall into the hands of this land, some however find the artificial living environments to be a very agreeable life style and become permanent residents. Ones that are still alive at least.

The Order of the Moths

Other Names: Moth Mages, White Moths, Mystic Moths.

White Moths

The mystical order of the White Moths. Ever concealed in their white robes, they are devotees of X, sourced from everywhere. Beings of all sorts, each seeking a life immersed in knowledge and magic. Like reclusive monks most reside within in his capital, maintaining the great library and with their task of cataloging all knowledge in existence itself by being granted access to The Ledger. From which their high-priests read from and dictate knowledge that is to be transcribed upon giant stone blocks. undertaking tasked by X to be completed, both parties well knowing it is an impossible task, though the rewards of dedication come in being more illuminated than most mortals can achieve after years of study. As such it they have become in large the curators of his realm. They create the desert sands by carving out the writings within X's collection into massive blocks of stone with eldritch powers, and then once a book has been fully transcribed the block is magically shrunk to the size of a grain of sand. Thus is X's realm able to record all that that was, is and possibly will be and conceal the endless knowledge outside the library the realm. And new streams of sand pour out from the floating city of scholars.

Some White Moths however do travel and establish satellite libraries outside of Thethoth wherever their presence is tolerated. And as such these emissaries are akin to missionaries, offering troves of information to those seeking knowledge regardless of their intent. As well as secretly regulating the flow of information within the local area, becoming the dominate library within the area despite what private collections exist, it is difficult to surpass the collection of the White Moths. The satellite libraries all have portals which link back to the grand temple at Akhkabaren, but the portals are usually magically locked and are one-way trips unless the grand temple allows trips from the satellite site to them.

White Moths at work.

White Moth Satellite Libraries

White Moth Grand Library

Culture

The Cultured Citizens

The Scholars of Thethoth

A land devoted to the God of Knowledge is rich in culture. Tolerant of many things most would find offensive, the residents of Thethoth are usually scholars, artisans, and magi. Distinguished by their olive-bronze skin tones, the ancestors of those living in Thethoth are well adapted to the climes using a tradition of magic and sorcery to survive the otherwise unbearable desert. But such is life in the dessert that even the subtleties of its life can be found throughout the cultural diaspora. For example, clothing mostly comes in robes for the intellectually inclined, or very little clothing for those residents who are seen as more boorish folk. Both keep the body cool, however a cultured citizen will wear the prestigious robes, the more eloquent and adorned the more impressive a symbol of status despite the ruling elite being the simple white robes of the Order of the Moth. White is a color reserved for the highest powers in the cities, the purity of such color symbolizing the rank by being able to wear white as the rare white silk-fibers come from the Moths themselves, and to wear white is to tempt fate to stain it. Hence why only those in a seat of honor traditionally wear white, while all others wear a multitude of colors. Of course this is the generality rather than the rule, as many outsiders come and go amongst the cities.

Despite the phelthora of magical items sold at the bazaars, Weaponry carried by non-public defenders is generally regarded with a wary eye within the cities, but tolerated for the sake of visitors and trade. A staff is perhaps the most welcome of these, especially of used as a walking stick, but to carry a sword is to rouse suspicion. Furthermore, residents of Thethoth usually wear unique enchanted gemstone jewelry in various forms, one that which easily mark an outsider for lacking one, this piece of jewelry is used in their burial rites, as the gemstone shall be used to carve the name and record of the dead upon the magical pyramid walls. The gem is then embedded into the wall above and used as a final tie to land of the living, such that their long-dead spirit may be summoned from the underworld to seek advise or testaments of past events. Their corporeal bodies are destroyed in the funerary rites, but some magi fear death and have chosen the path of undeath to continue their studies. But that is not to say there are no rules within the city, no there are a few regulations that attempt to keep order and balance in check, yet this does not stop the occasional murder or theft. That said, nothing is said to go on without X's knowledge of it. Hence if it has occurred, then it is argued to reason that the god of this realm has allowed it to occur. Such is the general philosophy of the citizens, leaving the events in the wisdom of the gods.

The Nomads of the Desert

There are also some nomadic tribes who scour the desert sands outside the cities. Compared to the city-folk, these nomads find a harsh life in the barren desert. They are tough, sinewy, and hardy survivalists who depend not on magic to live their day to day. In contrast to their urban counterparts, these citizens scavenge what they can find, and often robbing lost travelers before leaving them for dead. Safe passage can be bought however, with gifts and sustenance. Sometimes these nomads venture near settlements and cause concern, but the magical defenses usually keep them away. Goods are traded by leaving them just outside of either's comfort zone, wordless negotiations as things are offered in exchange for a fair price. Although be warned, negotiate a clearly terrible deal, and they may be very unreasonable.

They are a warrior culture, exceptional with bows and arrows to combat the shielding sorcery that would otherwise blast them with flashes of flame from afar. Their deadliest arrows are made from the remains of dead giants, the Senet, destroyed during the war of gods, sacred magebane arrows that pierce the power of magic ignoring the effects they may have. They revere the remains as sanctuaries against magic, and will defend the corpses with a fanatical fervor, more valued than a life-giving oasis or well.

The Court Politics

An Emir of Thethoth

Thethoth is a unified land, composed of far-flung cities that carve out the territorial lines in the desert. Each city is largely independent as individual city states, but are quite literally under the rule of the Capital city. Each city-state is ruled by an Emir as an executive head, protector and chief of the entire city administration. The Emir in turn has a vizier, who offers advice on governing, as well as a local council of White Moths Emissaries who represent the highest level of administration stemming from the Capital. Beneath the Emir come the nobles, mages and scholars of note, who generate wealth for the city or renown, who create an executive chamber that lobby the Emir regarding local laws within the unseen boundaries of the cities. The military forces however are far and few in number, but most problems in the desert tend to resolve themselves one way or another.

The Administrative Chambers

Laws are for the most part lax, going back to the philosophy that the gods control all aspects of life, all events being guided by their will. The basic tenets set standards which society ought to follow, however exceptions can be made for certain cases. Murder for example, is generally not permitted, unless there is proper evidence and paperwork decreeing the death has been sanctioned by another governmental force, either than of another city-state or another kingdom. These credentials must be surrendered either prior to or immediately after such a crime is committed to the Emir's administration who pass the information off to the White Moths, and as such up the chain of command. On the other hand, if an attempted murder occurs, then the target of the writ is permitted to defend themselves against the assailant so as long as no other individuals are harmed in the process as the Emir will not intercede in such an affair unless public damages are done and if so such damages are claimed for reimbursement to the surviving party. Another common sight to see is Undeath, as a few mages seek to escape the cold embrace of death, they and their thrall are generally allowed within the cities, however are asked to keep their profiles low, usually underground and in the dark in a less than literal sense. Vices are another common regulation, houses of ill-repute can be found, often a wide selection as even mages need to experience pleasures of flesh beyond the mind alone; exotic fantasies can occur with dream brothels and brocades. And finally slavery is completely illegal within the cities, although servants are allowed, they are expected to be treated with a degree of humanity. Which is not to say slavery does not exist, in reaches were the laws influence in thin...

The Great Pyramids

The Pyramids that rise from the desert sands are built long before the cities at their feet. Taking inspiration from the Inverted Pyramid that elevated the Capital, these lesser pyramids were originally built to store arcane power, conduits of energy to project wards against the desert sandstorms and heat. However, now they serve as a vault of knowledge past, as the names of the dead are inscribed within the jeweled walls. A gateway sits in the middle, a veil for the soul to pass directly into the underworld or for a mortal to visit such a dreary realm. However such a gate serves the purpose of being able to recall a long dead spirit from the afterlife, summoned by sorcery to walk against among the living for what moments they may have to impart some wisdom or recall history to whet the curiosity of the mind. This allows the knowledge of the ages to be stored as their linked gems serve as a final tie to the living. It is forbidden for mere mortals to enter such pyramids without the accompaniment of the local powers, however divine beings are free to enter and leave as they see fit.

Portal to the Underworld

The Pyramid Cities

Civilization Rises

Cites often are built at the foot of the pyramids, the greatest ones have multiple among their skyline. A large metropolis city will have two or three, while smaller towns will have one. City life is rather busy, vibrant with business and trade. Before the sun breaks the city awakens in the darkness, burning lamp oil to peddle their wares early or catch up on the local gossip. Food is produced in the communal city gardens, usually around a source of water magically maintained by the powers of the pyramids. The cities depend on attracting mages who pay a monthly tax and bolster the arcane energies available to maintain the pyramids, such mages also bring wares from the other cities and may pick up trinkets and crafts along their journey to the larger cities. Otherwise, life is spent in relative stability, with the comforts of life sated.

Some of the largest cities host magical bazaars where one can find all sorts of exotic objects at jaw-dropping prices. The influx of enchanters, smiths, alchemists and other artisans make such items common in Thethoth. Traders from kingdoms afar may brave the desert to find cheap magicial goods marketable for tens-to-hundredsfold more outside Thethoth. Rare books are also common here, although really nothing more than souvenirs for the uncultured masses, especially with most residents of the largest cities having exquisitely extensive private collections, even the lowest level of wealth manages to have a bookshelf or two in their modest homes. As such in the case of these cities, education is offered freely, a public offering of various lectures and topics to be discussed in various parts of the city by renown teachers, philosophers and magi. As such the literacy rate is exceptionally high in Thethoth, as with the basics of food, water, and shelter magically accounted for the city-folk have all the time to devote to leisure, entertainment and studies in the pursuit of one's interests.

City Gardens

The Magical Markets

Social Gossip

Technology:

The technology of Thethoth is some of the cutting edge the world has to offer. Bolstered by the extreme amount of magic commonly found, Thethoth sees some the greatest innovations in any kingdom. An example of magically developed technology includes Farming, capable of feeding the masses with only a small sector of land assigned to food production by magically accelerating plant growth. Animals, though rare, have been domesticated enough to be used as beasts of burden or for slaughter, most animals are birds who are trained to sing and warble for the entertainment of guests. Construction materials are usually made of stone or clay, with metal being reserved for more portable needs, all the while a small amount of wood is produced by either labor-intensive transmutation or rapidly growing trees. Fabrics include cotton, wool, and finest of all Moth Silk, reserved for the elites. Golems are also a common sight in larger cities, however the time, effort, and resources used to produce one means most will just prefer a common house servant. Gold and silver are used for common currency, however lesser denominations exist in fractional credits where a piece of a pre-produced silver coin is given, the factions being half, quarter, eight, and finally sixteenths. It was regarded as easier to price something against the weight of silver, with gold being equated to be worth ten times as much as silver and used in larger transactions.

Flying Carpets

The main form of transportation other than walking, the magic carpets of Thethoth can be used within the city given the operator is familiar with how to command and maneuver them. The air traffic is regulated to remain at least eighteen feet above the street level at all times, making those afraid of heights think otherwise when riding in a rather open vehicle. Repair of these carpets require magical thread, a task for a skilled weaver and enchanter. They are usually stored rolled up, and sold by vendors who promise their carpets are the fastest or the most luxurious in a bid for customers.

Clockwork Curiousites

Fine artisans, inventors and engineers are attracted to Thethoth, often by patronage of eccentric wizards who have little use for coin. That said, some of the most novel uses of clockwork mechanics can be found here. Wind-up toys to even complex devices used by lazy mages to scroll through scrolls. Such delicate machines are usually appreciated as objet d'art. The beauty in these works is how they seem to move like magic, which captivate the mind of even the most learned sorcerer.

The Finest Weapons and Armor

Metallurgy is augmented with magic often in the lands of Thethoth. Such items can bear enchantments ranging for mildly useful such as allowing the wearer of full-plate steel to float, or even as impressive as a sword that spouts flames. That said, staves and wands are also produced for the markets, but most magi prefer to fashion their own, personalizing them with ornate touches rather than commissioning one made from a senior magi.

Magical Alchemy Cures All

The Art of Alchemy begins to be married to the budding branches of medicine as science. Somewhere between chemistry, magic and physiology the alchemists of Thethoth manage to cure most common ailments, ranging from magical curses to regrowing a limb. Although the process of regrowing a limb is rather painful, and unfortunately shortens ones life expectancy as the regenerative abilities of the body are burned up as by the alchemical law of equivalent exchange, such is the price for a new limb

Capital City

Jibsheut, The Inverted Pyramid

The Desert within the desert. The Inverted Pyramid Jibsheut rises above the land of Thethoth as an imposing structure which casts its shadow across the land like a sundial. One part of the desert is covered in its massive shadow which sweeps across the sands during the day after which the moonlight continues the pattern and illuminates the rest of the arabian night. Such a cycle helps to cool areas of the desert off, though the shadow does not completely dominate the entire kingdom per say, most cities experience the effect once.

Inside the newest sands of the desert lay dormant, generated by the Order of the Moths daily. Outside its black stone walls the sands pour out from the shrinking and refilling hidden desert to expand the desert beneath the mega-structure. Like a giant hourglass the levels of sand rise and fall within the Inverted Pyramid, pouring out in ever growing numbers with the grains of sand like cascading waterfalls. It's true purpose however, is to harbor the capital city it was constructed around: Akhkabaren.

The walls dampen the effects of the elements around it and within it, magically simulating the sun and moon as both truly lay outside the enclosure, the skies of Jibsheut mimic the actual celestial spheres in astronomic projections, the surreal interiors immerse the land in a sense of floating in space, an attempt at creating heaven for mortals to ponder. The structure also serves to protect the city from the war zones, lifting it high above armies that would attempt to take it, entering the pyramid requires flight and great strength or magic to appear above the level of sands.

Akhkabaren, Capital of Thethoth

An ancient city lifted by a god, Akhkabaren lies within the protection of Jibsheut, hidden from the rest of the world in a desert within the desert. It was originally a city of scholars, magi from across the world seeking the wisdom of the gods. They made their ancient towers here, competing with their contemporaries in contests to establish supreme dominance over the arcane arts. So great was the concentration of arcane power found here that the rest of Thethoth trembled before the duels fought against the world's greatest wizards and champions. Thus in his infinite wisdom, X had intervened and enclosed the magical metropolis within an arcane barrier in an attempt to lessen the effects of such reality warping magic on the rest of the world.

But its reputation for being the greatest mecca of knowledge and the esoteric far exceeded the difficulty in relocating there, and Akhkabaren became the splendor of the magi. Golden towers to match those of X's single tower emerged from the sands, the Order of the Moth born from the most devout and their library built. From there it was merely time before the levels of magic within the city exceeded the strength of the barriers placed as the city developed into a sprawling city of magic. Universities, Wizard guilds, Laboratoriums, all appeared as mortals aspired to become gods, magic had allowed them to exceed the upper limits as they tested their god X. And he in turn allowed their pursuits to test the limits of their knowledge, how far their minds can go before succumbing to the mental breakdown form which the spiraled into with the whispers of his voice. Still they tried to grasp that which was forbidden to them: the apotheosis of mortals.

For They had their aspirations, to reach the heavens above and walk as gods amongst men. For this X found their paradoxical devotion to become his equal curious. And willed the black stone walls of Jibsheut to seal off Akhkabaren from the rest of the world below. Deemed too dangerous to leave on the surface, the god of knowledge lifted the city into the sky where it sits removed from the rest of Thethoth. With the skies painted to simulate the cosmos, a glimpse into the heavens above, they believed it to be their ascension. And X had his isolated experiment upon which perhaps he could grant a single mortal worthy of one day calling him brother...

Keyrings

Getting around a large magical city is somewhat difficult, especially in a city build by mages and not architects. That said, many buildings in Akhkabaren retain portals rather than doors for visitors to come and leave. This portal system essentially connects Akhkabaren together more than the sandy city streets. Even the gate out of the city is merely to allow larger parties to come and go bearing impossibly large goods. But for those first time visitors who are unfamiliar with how the city works, there is a kiosk at the gate which provides Keyrings, which activate the dormant intracity portals found throughout the city streets. Travelling is as simple as placing the signet sigil upon the gatestone and turning to a combination of twists and turns that correspond to a portal gate location in the city. That said knowing the combinations is the trick, and first time visitors are encourage to have set up a guide to the city. The main city gate is attuned to intercity connections, and serves as a hub for many other portal gates around the world.

Ankhatem, Seat of Knowledge and Wisdom

Within Akhkabaren, lies Ankhatem the library of X. It is the central tower reaching the heavens as a finger of god, the seat of where X can be found day to day meditating upon the universe, watching through the eyes of mortals below glimpses of their life. It is his sanctum and his residence, where The Order of the Moth venerate him as servitors to a low-maintenance god. The highest ranks of the order reside in the tower, keeping the books in order, tending to the collection of knowledge gathered through the centuries by their divine patron. It is there were they may discover information otherwise withheld from the world, the secret knowledge bound within the books here fill the mind with a lifetime of learning. However their perfect enlightenment comes at a cost, for they cannot be allowed to speak of such insights, their minds erased the moment they attempt to disseminate such information to the common rabble.

Growth of Knowledge

Upon the highest floor, observing over all of Akhkabaren, the Tree of Knowledge is found within the false tree of knowledge which has grown around the library. The false tree grows far and spreads its white petals which occasionally magically turn into the white desert moths seen across Thethoth. The moths in turn are collected by the Order who raise them to spin their holy robes from. The God X himself spends time in mediation within the canopy, although from time to time he will provide a scrap of information in an open exchange of knowledge. Newly promoted members of the Order who are accepted to study within the halls are expected to present their own publication for ascension to be placed upon the filled shelves of the library.

Books of Magic and Magical Books

The books found within X's personal library are great, however the greatest of them are not the books of magic, written by great magi of old, but rather the magical books penned by X himself. These magical books are gateways into the mind, portals which seem to invite the reader to enter them as an illusion of a world appears from the pages. Like a simulation, readers of these books are actually experience everything within the minds theatre, placed in a deep consciousness as they explore the worlds the book create within their head. Escaping one requires the mental fortitude to want to escape the limitless imagination and return into reality. And some White Moths, no matter how powerful, have never returned from opening one of these books.

A Collection of Specimens

The Canopic Jars

A showcase of knowledge beyond books, scattered across the tower are the remains of various races, displayed openly for scholars to observe and take note as they float in magical preservation. They have been stripped to their components, in the soft glowing arcane canisters, with layers of reconstruction underneath, their organs and viscera able to be put back on piece by piece according to the needs of those who wish to study the macabre anatomy. Even X's own creations can be found, preserved only to be pulled apart in their destruction suggesting a darker side in the pursuit of knowledge.

The Prized Jewel

Greatest among these however is a fallen sister, yes even the gods of the realm are not beyond study as X hosts the decapitated head of the goddess of Love. Killed in the wars, as her face still captures the horror of her last moments, now captured forever for mortal eyes to behold what became of Love. A goddess he could never phantom, irrational and illogical, it was only fitting that the god of Knowledge preserve her head to find what went through her mind... Rather than her heart.

The Dark Sands

Beneath the tower lies the dungeons. A place of unspeakable horrors done in the name of understanding. It is here where X prepares the bodies, a White Moth shown the true lengths of which one must undertake to gain knowledge. Here the secrets of beings being studied, alive or dead to glean greater information to advance the field of knowledge. It is these dark experiments buried deep beneath the magical city that the sands may recall the most gruesome of discoveries...

Magical Beings:

There are a quite a number of magical beings that roam the sands of Thethoth. Some are benign to mortals, some are malicious, while others still are indifferent. Of those created by X, all a purpose, the first being the Sphinges which were an attempt to create companions and servitors. Yet X could not bring himself to dominate them as puppets, having chosen to instill within them the sentience of free will as part of his creation. They were free to do as they wish in their existence, such that perhaps a small part of him would be free from having to commit to the purpose for which he was made. All other things X has learned to limit such freedom, and force upon them a purpose to which they were created, a lesson he learned after the folly of the Sphinges.

The Sphinx

Race Name: The Sphinx
Other Names: Faceless Sphinx, Ghost Sphinx, Mirage Sphinx, Masked Sphinx.

A Faceless Sphinx

Race description: The Sphinx, or more aptly the Sphinges, was created by X, God of Knowledge, Secrets and Magic. Eternally connected to their creator, each is given a name, of which they are compelled conceal as they are bound to grant a single wish within their power to whoever calls them by their name. And yet they are also innately truthful, and must tell the truth. As such, they like their creator, speak in riddles. Offering a riddle in lieu of speaking their name to those seeking it to gain control over the Sphinx. And though they cannot lie and must grant a wish to those who call upon their hidden names, it does not mean they are without free agency to fulfill that wish in anyway they see fit. They are long-lived legendary lifeforms which may alter reality itself in ways a minor god can by using their innate connection to Magic. Yet they too are mortal and can be killed, albeit with their god-like abilities, it is very difficult.

Biology: The Sphinx's body itself is selectively immaterial, the blue eagle-feathered wings and powerful lion-like body is straddles between incorporeal and corporeal as their beautiful manes wistfully fade away. Retractable claws match the golden colour of the only definitely solid piece of its existence: A golden mask. They lack eyes, ears, noses and mouths, and yet still retain their senses by a telepathic ability, but lacking such physical features they do not need to eat or drink, nor breathe, although they are capable of resting appearing as nothing more than their blank mask as the dematerialize themselves. It is ill advised to attempt to wear one, or wake one. Despite the odd biology, or rather lack of biology, Sphinges are able to mate, although the exact process is a considered a mystery, yet remember these beings can change reality as they please, as such producing offspring is nothing to question. Each Sphinx can live indefinitely, but most seem to enter a fugue state after the first five or six millennia, a Sphinx that has yet to live a their first millennia is considered a mere child. Death usually comes by destruction of the mask which contains their consciousness, and it is said their consciousness return to X as the god absorbs all the knowledge and secrets it has learned over the course of the Sphinx's life time.

The Ushabti

Race Name: The Ushabti
Other Names: Silent Statue, Stone Sentries, City Guards.

A Silent Statue

Race description: The Ushabti, both plural and singular in use, was another creation by X, God of Knowledge, Secrets and Magic. Carved from the stone and imbued with limited basic sentience, these magical constructs serve to maintain order for their creator. Nameless masses which as their name suggests, are mute in their actions, often found stationed throughout as watchers. They are able to assume a still state, recording everything that occurs within their senses and make for ideal guards when they suddenly spring to life. They can be controlled by certain incantations, known by select individuals. In combat the Ushabti are able to channel the magics within them into blasts of arcane power and have basic martial training with their carried scepters. And finally, being constructs rather than organic beings, they are technically immortal for as long, but can fall into disrepair and be destroyed.

Construction: The Ushabti are made from sandstone blocks, their solid bodies animated by magic which articulate the hard material with limbs and joints. Inside their statue-esque forms is a scroll of magic which empowers the statue to move along with the spells they cast. The inscriptions on their bodies describe their functions, written in esoteric script. Creating one is a feat as even well-practiced magic users fail at being able to imbue sorcerous abilities to their golems, but the Ushabti are created by the Order of the Moths as personal protectors. The process is a well-guarded secret, and no one mortal knows the entire requirements to produce one, rather taking measures to portion out the creation to different individuals.

The Senet

Race Name: The Senet
Other Names: Moth Enforcer, Stone Destroyers, Temple Guards.

A Stone Destroyer

Race description: The Senet, both plural and singular in use, was another creation by X, God of Knowledge, Secrets and Magic. Created for the purposes of defending Thethoth from the armies of the warring gods. Like the Ushabti, they are carved from the stone and imbued with sentience to maintain order for their creator, bound to the will of X as part of his standing defenses. They are unable to use magic, however they are also unaffected by it in return, seemingly ignoring magical effects and attacks to tear into battle with their weapons. Yet in times of a tentative peace, these giants have little function and wander the endless sands searching for purpose. Some are find it by serving the Order of the Moths, as intimidating enforcers among the magical community. For the most part however, they are relics of another era, cursed with an immortality to exist on until their god whispers their orders once more.

Construction: The Senet are made from sandstone blocks, shaped into centaurian models for speed, strength, and skill, each personally sculpted by X and imbued with sentience. The stone joints articulate naturally, stone on sandanimated by magic which articulate the hard material with limbs and joints. A divine blessing protects them from magic, a ward nullifying the reality-bending effects magic has. They are few in number, but the fragments of one destroyed in the war still contain parts of X's protection, and are prized by collectors to create magic-proof objects. Scavengers roam the deserts trying to find a graveyard's trove of these ancient creations.

The Isfet

Race Name: The Isfet
Other Names: Desert Demons, Desert Elementals.

Race description: The Isfet, or more Isfets if mulitple, were creations of the Sphinges, themselves creations of X: God of Knowledge, Secrets and Magic. In an attempt to create life, just as their creator has, the Sphinges created the Isfet based on the humans they have seen, combining a magical ability and selective corporeality to them just like the Sphinges. However the Isfet rebelled against their creators, who had enslaved them with a similar cursed without true freedom. They freed themselves of their masters, and have been at odds ever since. Yet even still their united cause splintered from the original tribe, a rift among the Isfet caused birth of four factions, and four different subspecies each with their own personalities and affinities. They are long-lived legendary lifeforms with magical powers above those of most mortals, yet they too are mortal and can be killed, albeit with some difficulty.

Biology: The Isfet are modeled after humans, with upper bodies of man that fade into elemental smoke below the level of their waist. Their forms are selectively immaterial, the varied skin tones of their flesh straddle between incorporeal and corporeal as they please. While they do need to eat and drink, they do not need to sleep as they never tire. That said, they do sleep if they so choose to, by placing themselves in a magical trance state. Curiously, all Isfet are male, and how more are made is a subject scholars debate and argue. Some claim they interbreed with other humanoids beings they enslave, producing offspring with mixed features which then are bred to produce more pure offspring and so forth. Others question if the Isfet have found a means to magically transform genders and simply surrogate a female role, although this begs the question of intentional anatomy on behalf of their creators. Finally some speculate they prey on solitary Sphinges, forcing them to create more of their kin after battles of magic throughout the desert. In death, the Isfet dissolve into nothing, leaving no trace of their physical bodies as the magic of their creators wish them away.

Djinn

The Isfet connected to the Winds, they are perhaps the most agreeable in mortal view. Their communities travel across the desert, wandering nomads in magical caravans composed of sand-skiffs. ship-like vessels that float inches off the desert sands and are pushed by the winds. They are traders who lure travelers with food and drink, plying them with dance and music from their enslaved harems. Although should they offend a Djinn, they should be wary of the sudden changes in mood they will have. It is better to offer them a trade in their favour, while enjoying their entertainment, lest they wish to make some sporting entertainment out of you by watching your body be taken up in a desert twister.

Pt'Jib, Great Desert Sailing Ship

Jann

The Isfet connected to the Stones, they are perhaps the most primitive in mortal view. Their communities retain the tribal nature of their origin and are marked by small villages across the desert. They are raiders who terrorize travelers in ambushes, waiting beneath the desert sands or towering rock to strike. Captives are either brutally killed, or enslaved to be worked to death or sold to other Isfet. They sometimes align themselves with the nomadic peoples of Thethoth, and go on joint raiding ventures, attacking cities from time to time in looting skirmishes. Generally not done unless both parties are desperate, or if there is a particularly tempting target.

Dw'jib, A Jann village

Marid

The Isfet connected to the Waters, they are perhaps the most mercurial in mortal view. They are solitary, and reside near rare places of water. As such they are usually seen by cities or even within them, enjoy a local populace that fears and honors them with gifts. An Oasis is usually a sign of one, especially in cities without pyramids. However they are fickle creatures, capable of generating great fortunes to the people that appease them, or destroying them by various plots and schemes of vengeance. They are sometimes worshiped even by cults, though their existence is kept a secret by followers for concern of alerting the proper authorities to the presence of an Isfet within the city. For such reasons, these Isfet tend to be mavens who serve as high-status kingpins in the criminal underworld.

Nt'jib, A city with a Marid Patron

Ifrit

The Isfet connected to the Fires, they are perhaps the most attractive in mortal view. They are social creatures, having created a city of their own to match those in Thethoth. Built upon the back of a golem construct, the city moves and walks across the desert as a mobile wonder. They are fiery creatures, both in personality and temper, aggressive, passionate, and bold. They will broker deals with mortals, working their magics in trade for services to be rendered, becoming masters by pulling favours and contracts. They take well to flattery, giving themselves fanciful titles and preferring to be addressed in eloquent descriptions of their splendor. Yet, they are also very prideful beings, and insulting one is easy as not having serenaded them with at least three titles of how awesome they are. At which upon being insulted, they tend to destroy that which annoys them in an burning inferno.

Kh'Jib, the Moving Ifrit City

The Ma'at

Race Name: The Ma'at
Other Names: Desert Angels, Pure Moths.

A Desert Angel

Race description: The Ma'at, both singular and plural, were created by X, God of Knowledge, Secrets and Magic to balance out the Isfet. Creating another race in response to the failings of his first creation, the sphinges, the Ma'at are made in his image. Mystic and otherworldly, present but distant as they fly gracefully through the desert sky upon four wings. They are sightless, just as their creator, lacking anything above the line of their hoods and instead sense the magic around them like a moth to pheromones in the air. Hence their affiliation with moths that often follow their wake. They were created for a singular purpose, and exist solely to fulfill it, though they are still under the direct command of X. Yet only so many were made for the problem, and the godly wars halted their creation and reduced their numbers as Isfet took sides with War, forcing the Ma'at to flock to the aid of the the King of the Gods indirectly. They are immortals granted magical powers on par with the sphinges, and are unrestrained in their purpose to destroy the Isfet. To destroy one requires a tremendous effort as they use their swords and sorcery to hunt down and rid the world of their polar opposites and once done, disappear by the will of X.

Biology: The Ma'at are modeled after X himself, albeit in female form with wings with which they fly on. They are ethereal beings, radiating an obvious mystic divinity to them. Their forms are graceful, but alien with long limbs and wispy bodies, seemingly delicate despite their prowess. The pale and pure white skin tones of their flesh are matched by the subtle pearly iridescence of their wings from which feathers make for prized quills by collectors despite not having any particular magical property save for unearthly beauty. Spiritual immortals, they do not need to eat, drink, or sleep and all Ma'at are female. White moths can be found following them, spinning the silken threads that they are clothed in as they flutter their dusky wings like magical diamond-dust powders. Despite their allure, seldom are mortals attracted to these beings the moment they see beyond the veil to find their fabled beauty shockingly missing half a face. Made without their eyes, they sense the magic and energies surrounding them to see, piercing past illusions and magical effects to hunt down their sworn enemies the Isfet. Finally, the Ma'at crumble away into a swarm of white moths, fluttering away should a critical strike destroy them, leaving no trace of their physical bodies save for a few feathers, sword, and hooded gown as the moths return to X to be reborn into another angelic warrior.

DemiGod

Name: Atefir the Archmagister, The Experiment, Reborn One, The Fourth Hand.

Gender: Male

Appearance:

Phenomenal Cosmic Powers

Wizened by his immortality, Atefir's eyes glow with his spark of divinity. The mysteries of the cosmos reflected in those pure electric blue orbs. His body weak beneath the starlight robes, frail as his mortal coil is taxed by the arcane energies bestowed upon it. But with silver beard and wrinkled brow, his bald crown hides beneath a scholar's cap as his arthritic hands tremble musing through his elder facial hair.

Equipment:

Was, Staff of Supremacy

A staff of arcane authority, its power far beyond lesser staffs. With crackling energies barely contained at one end while the mystic jewel glows unblinking at the other, the staff is an impressive symbol of sorcery. The personal staff presented to Atefir by X as a token of his demigodhood. It can easily create portals and wormholes without a gate or focus by burrowing through the fabric of space. With it in hand, it is possible to nullify incoming magical attacks, or redirect them using the portals. Hence the one who wields it has incredible powers over other magi.

Hekair, The Book of Eyes

Floating always within reach of Atefir, the Book of Eyes is his greatest scholarly work. Written along ago and presented to X, within it the secrets to the art of scrying, clairvoyance, and sight. Within it, spells and incantations related to seeing. Most curiously however are the otherworldly creatures summoned by the book. These grotesque entities of unknown origin, appearing from the aberrant worlds discarded as failed designs. No god created them, but rather through the eons, these strange monstrosities came to be.

Irseth

Little more than a mass of eyes dripping of flesh and sinew, the Irseth, or more commonly called 'Beholders' by non-Thethothians, are a race of gruesome creatures. They are as some claim 'spare parts of the universe' which grew sentience over the years. Others think them to be failed experiments of X in attempts to restore his sight hidden away for being such horrific messes. But their powers are great, capable of seeing everything with their ocular powers. Their unblinking eyes allow them to see in all directions at once, a complete view as they float absurdly through the air. With slime dripping tentacles they explore, horrifying those who would flinch at their many eyes capable of seeing invisible and hidden things even without light. This is due to the light-generating power of the central eye that emits a high energy light normally invisible through the dilated pupil it bears. The more unpleasant ability however is the eye ray, blasts of intensified light energy focused through the central eye. Their reproduction involves budding off the second largest eye along with some fleshy mass, which will become a central eye of the new Irseth. Fortunately the base intelligence of the Irseth is rather low, being just barely risen from the cosmic discard pile, they are little more than mindless jellyfish, floating and feeding on the absorbed eyeballs of other creatures to grow and thrive. They can be trained for rudimentary purposes, however rely on visual cues for basic orders such as pointing at objects to draw its attention and gaze there.

Heku, the Hieratic

Heku, the Servant

Heku, the Beast

Where X created the Ushabti, Atefir created Heku. Studied from the Ushabti and the Senet, Heku is a creature made from a written scroll. Just as the Ushabti and Senet were made of stone, and Wadjet out of sand, Heku is made of papyrus. The many reeds cut from the specifically grown garden, grown for six days in an abundance of magic in fertile earth. The squeezed fibers soaked for six days in the pure waters, before being woven and pressed together for six nights beneath the wind-swept moon. Then by six days in the burning sun upon the sands the perfect papyrus was made. A single scroll of seemingly endless length, the potential waiting to receive the living inscription that would animate it to a semblance of life. It took several attempts, years of preparation and research however in the end, the papyrus scroll rose and folded itself into a man. Seeing this Atefir smile, and called his creation: Heku.

Heku has been his personal servant and traveling mount ever since. More flexible than the stone statues, capable of shifting just as X's avatar Wadjet, albeit in less ways. Heku is capable of magic like the Ushabti, but can change its form to suit its purposes with ease. Should Atefir require a manservant, it takes the form of a humanoid, a hollow mummy-man of paper tending to the elderly wizard's care. Should Atefir require a transport, then Heku transforms into a beast pf burden, allowing the mage to ride it across the land in lieu of teleportation or taxing his aged body. All in all, Heku is merely a specialized Ushabti, more suited for the purposes of accompanying Atefir, and of course bringing the wonders of Thethoth to the rest of the world.

Personality:

A Gentleman and Scholar

While X exists in an uncaring void, detached from all mortal cares or affairs in the god's sanctum, Atefir remains true to his origins and understands the plight of mortals. Still distant from the common race, though not as far removed as his creator X. It is his partial humanity that makes the mage more grounded in mortal affairs. A memory of his past life, before the rise to demigodhood, still the remnants remain, clinging as the last autumn leaf in the chills of winter. Unlike X, Atefir is capable of feeling, understanding more than just understanding, but emotions. He knows the meaning of mortality, and the meaning behind it for he once was. In such a way perhaps, he is superior to his creator for love does not elude him.

Abilities:

Sorcery Supreme

Semi-Divine Magic: Perhaps renown as the greatest mage in history, if not of all time bar the gods, Atefir is able to do feats of magic that set him apart from the lesser mortal wizards. His understanding of magic far greater than the grasp of mortals, able to tap into both the arcane and the divine. While no match for a god at full power outright, mortals will wonder at the effortless negation of most spells with another. An ravaging inferno summoned by his rival quelled with a raging blizzard, a thunderous bolt of lightning countered with a impervious wall of stone. Few non-gods could claim to be his equal in terms of magic, and even then that could be contested as easily.

Insightful Analytics: With a simple glance Atefir dissects you, not in the way of his creator, but in the way an old man of experience gazes into wanton youth. With the powers of observation, he can read anyone like an open book, a few minutes is all he needs to find your inner workings. The subtle lies you wish to tell him, and even the ones you tell yourself, the Archmagister seems to know, by foresight or insight. Which perhaps in his advance age is how he can keep up with the younger upstart mages in countering their every spell with one of his own so quickly though his hands are far slower.

Fatal Flaw

Fragile Humanity: Among the demigods, Atefir is perhaps one of the physically weakest. His body still very much human even in immortality. There is no superior strength or speed, no senses or physical abilities granted to him outright save for what he already had. And now his advancing age has made it difficult for him to maintain a grasp on what divinity threatens to destroy his body. He requires daily meditations to refocus the part of X which seeks to claw itself out and return to the god.

History:

The Ascension

A mortal imbued with the forbidden. Divinity instilled within a mere human, made rather than born. Atefir is an artifical demigod, his mortality a relic of his human past, aged well as the divine infusion merely grants immortality but not youth eternal. His years long behind him, his own story begins as a mere child ends with his partial ascension. And yet history has buried his mortal name, stuck out from memory.

It began when X pondered an idea. For if a god could die, and if a god could live, could not a god be made? Not born of a birth, but created? And opportunity came at the gathering of the magi, for in the wars of gods, many powerful spellcasters declared their allegiances. Their grasp of the arcane arts, their dedication to the study was worthy for one amongst them to be the test subject. Amidst the great wars, X observed with curious interest, watching through the eyes of warriors taking part in battle. This was the first test, to notice the presence of the god of knowledge watching their victories. And those who took note were invited to partake, messages sent through a fluttering desert moth, the omen of X. The Moths led them, those survivors to the books scattered across the lands. Each an invitation to partake in a tourney. A promise of a reward far greater than bring glory to one's god and faction written clearly as the magical book became the portal. Those who resisted fought on in their petty squabbles, shunning the gracious gathering of great wizards only matched by the neutral city of Akhkabaren.

And of those who answered the call, He was among them. He who was him before his rise. A name he cannot recall, a name no one remembers. He had shown great prowess in battle against the armies, but now stood the greatest trial of all. The prize offered by X, described by the God of Knowledge, Secrets and magic was the secrets of divinity. That which they sought in their mastery of the magical arts, ways to become true gods even as they lived as gods among men. Yet as only one may be found worthy of such a secret to bear, the others must be removed. And not just removed, but destroyed, for hearing there exists a method to godhood itself was beyond what mortals were to know. X required them to be erased, not merely dead, but eradicated. This was the test of skill and faith, to whom will such knowledge be given? Who will gain the ultimate secret?

He would. For the sake of knowledge he destroyed them, the final few who lasted when the chaos erupted. Mages vaporizing mages, powerful magics cast bounding and rebound across the planar arena. All until the bitter end, and when the grey dust cleared, He knelt alone against the blind God. X had watched him, through the panicked sight of others falling to his magics, of how he wore his body out for victory. With a new proclaimation, X challenged the panting mage to battle. And it was as expected, what little energy left barely laughable as the source of arcanery itself brushed off all the final attempts. A comparison of divine magic against a mortal mastery, was as comparison to a single grain of sand to a vast desert of it! Try and try again, X the patient scholar allowed him to rest, for days on did their battle wage, though for every attack He had the mage could not penetrate the defensive wards X had erected, and barely did his own protections last against the pressure of facing a god.

And still he preserved, until finally he stopped. Thinking no longer to outmatch the god, but to outwit him. Knowing somehow X was watching him through his own eyes. He closed his own eyes, seeing naught but darkness and X would surely see the same. A wise move perhaps? Could he beat a god? There as his sightless eyes groped about to find the place to strike, his enlightenment came. He had already proven his skill to be noticed. He had demonstrated his devotion to knowledge to do what others may have failed. What now was more that X demanded of him before he could claim the secrets of immortality? This was not a contest to defeat X, for what mortal could defeat a god? It was impossible for a mortal to match a god. No this was a matter of impressing him.

Opening his eyes once more, He felt the touch of X upon his head, a finger of god anointing his brow. There the transfusion began as He watched in awe. His name escaping the recesses of his mind and instilled with a new identity. The hand of X transferred into him, absorbed the divine essence, the spark which blinded his eyes with the highest power. X deemed him worthy to rise at last, his ability to learn the lesson to be instilled, the final test.

And when He opened his eyes anew to gaze upon the creator X, he was Atefir the Reborn one.