WrongEndoftheRainbow — Roleplayer Guild

Level: 2
Might: 0
Worshippers: 126

The Slope of the World Mountain
 The dwarves had begun work immediately, hunting down alcohol as though their life depended on it. Basic brewing had begun, and while it was primitive at best, it provided just enough for excavation of the mountain to begin. They had struck the earth, and began tunneling. Work was proceeding fast, the dwarves at home with whatever tools they could find. Smelters had been set up within weeks, and bronze was being processed into picks.

The bleary-eyed dwarves scurried to and thro, small settlements being set up outside with the materials from the excavation. Though temporary, they proved to be rather high-quality constructions, much better than the dirt huts his subjects had used before. Many dwarves had begun to distinguish themselves, some hauling, others carving and constructing, even more mining, and a precious few specializing in brewing. The sound of hearty songs filled the air as the stout creatures improvised.

Much better than her old subjects and accommodations indeed. The shape of the mountainside entrance was quickly taking form, the natural affinity for the crafts showing. But the workmanship of the dwarves wouldn't be good enough. Lazarus, before her divine days, had learned the secrets of using divine energy. For the dwarves to thrive, they too would need to know. The hordes would only stay still so long, if at all.

For the next few days, she kept an eye out, watching the dwarves as they worked. It would be a tricky subject to select the proper dwarves, on one hand, she would want the most intelligent and capable among them, but on the other hand, if she took all the architects -- the ones that fit the bill the most -- the mountain hall would never be complete. She had to select the right amount from the right sections of the workforce.

Once her selection was complete, she brought them into the massive halls of the World Mountain, the rest of the dwarves having worked quickly to mine and carve them out. She began her teaching, connecting them magically to herself. They would draw upon her might, her divinity, for their powers. Lazarusian Magic had been born.

- Dwarves be workin'.
- Lazarus takes a select few and teaches them Lazarusian magic. 2 might invested into Knowledge(Divinity) to jumpstart the process.
- 1 might previously invested (Detection gem), Knowledge(Divinity) open for integration.

15 Khookies
6000 relevant characters, +6 Khookies.

Mesera stumbled onwards. Ever since the Realta had invaded, the tribes in the local area had been devastated. As far as the pair could tell, the Realta were hunting them. An aversion from what the both were used to. They had been forced to flee, Furem receding to hold back the pain from the Tounic Calligraphy, and Mesera continuing onwards in the physical world. The two always had an affinity for working together.

There had been little in the way of food and water in the savannahs, a relatively harsh land of steppes. Despite her natural affinity for healing, Mesera could not heal herself all the way through the journey. At this point, she wandered aimlessly, her only goal the mountains in the distance. Not that it mattered anyways, everything was getting blurrier and blurrier as the body weakened.

While Angels generally stayed in the Valley of Peace, ever since the battle against Grot, a small minority of Angels had decided to explore what lay beyond their home and fly into the surrounding areas. It was one such group that spotted something below. Curious, they descended closer to the ground. While they could not determine what sort of creature it was, even they could tell that it was not faring well. “You down there!” one of them called out. “Do you need some help?” 

Mesera looked up into the sky with bleary, masked eyes. Though the mask blocked sight of her eyes, she remained capable of vision. While she tracked the Angels with her dizzying eyes, her mask made it impossible to tell exactly what she was looking at. She briefly consulted with an also exhausted Furem in her mind, before responding. “Any help you could provide would be greatly appreciated!” Her voice was patchy and parched.

The Angels looked at each other, reaching a silent consensus, then descended to the ground to pick Mesera up in their arms. Together, they began making their way to the Valley of Peace. One Angel began using Purity magic, healing Mesera of any wounds she may have received. It would do little for things such as hunger or thirst, but it would certainly keep her alive for the time being.

It was a relatively short trip, thankfully, due to the speed at which the Angels could travel with flight. They brought her into a white wooden hut and brought her various small fruits, as well as a cup of water, in hopes that Mesera would recover.

Neatly stripping the fruits, she fed thin strips through the mouth slit of the mask, which too acted as a full facial cover. The cup of water went down in a similar manner. She sat there for a small while, satisfying her hunger and thirst before speaking. “Thank you,” she said to the Angels, directly after finishing off the last fruit.

The Angels watched as she ate, curious about their new guest. They had never seen someone like her before, and her mannerisms were completely foreign to them. At first they were at a loss for words, merely looking at each other for assistance. Eventually, however, one of them, a pink-haired male, spoke up, “So, who are you? What’s your name?”

“My name is Mesera. I’m a Kitsune of healing and mercy,” she calmly responded, mask still hiding her face. She swept her head about the room, the mask lingering at each Angel before continuing on. “May I ask the same of you?”

Mesera’s answer already raised more questions about her. The Angels definitely had not heard of a “Kitsune” before, but they knew now that they should answer her question first before asking more of their own. 

“I am Saniel,” the pink-haired one introduced himself, placing a hand on his chest as he gave a short bow. “These two are my friends, Haziel and Maro,” Saniel continued, gesturing to the two on his left. Haziel, a blue-haired female Angel, and Maro, a blue-haired male Angel with yellow eyes, gave a short bow to Mesera as well. “We are Angels, the children of Mother Niciel. Right now, you are inside the Valley of Peace, the birthplace of the Angels.” 

Mesera nodded. “Pleased to meet you, Saniel, Haziel, and Maro. You have very flowing names. In my home, names were usually very, well, gaunt. Guttural,” she responded to them, returning the short bow as a courtesy. “It sounds as though this valley is a rather kind place.”

“It is,” Haziel replied. “Mother Niciel has made sure of that. Causing harm to anyone is not allowed in the Valley of Peace.” Maro took this opportunity to interject. “We’re sorry we can’t get Commander Falas to see you. She’s gone to visit a place called ‘Alefpria’, the home of Lifprasil. I won’t bore you with those details, though. Perhaps we should start at the beginning. What happened to you? You were quite fatigued back there.”

“I had to flee after the metal beings came, they hunted me in particular. I’m not sure why. They killed everything around them, including the tribes I wandered between. Immediately, I didn’t have time to hunt, or to find water. Once I had gotten further out, it was simply too late to do both. I was on open savannah,” came the response, slow and deliberate. She continued to scan the room.

“Metal…. beings?” Saniel asked, confused. “What are they?” 

“Whatever they are, I hope they don’t come here,” Haziel said. “We’ve already fought one battle, and I really don’t want to be in another.” 

“I don’t know who they are,” responded Mesera, “I just know that they kill everything in their path. Why? I don’t know.”

“That is terrible news. I am sorry about your village.” Maro said, concerned. 

“Do you have anywhere to stay?” Haziel asked. “You could stay here, if you wish. I don’t think anyone would object.”

“I’d like that, thank you,” came the response.

-Mesera’s home has been f***ed by the Realta, and is forced to flee. She grows weaker as she travels.
-A small group of Angels find Mesera and bring her back to the Valley of Peace, where they nurse her back to health.
-The group exchange pleasantries, and Mesera explains how the Realta destroyed her village. 
-The Angels offer to let her stay in the Valley of Peace, and Mesera accepts.

Altair
Level: 1
Might: 4

Lazarus stood within in the rapidly carven halls of the citadel of Dundee. She crossed the main hall in a rush, dwarves respectfully ceding passage to her. Soon, she reached a small entryway in the stone wall, a side passage. Entering the shadowy corridor, her divine senses reached out to show her what lay in the black.

It was mostly her packed tools and experiments, everything from her old gem and blueprints to more recent artifacts of arcane function. She would need some of these instruments for what was to come. The dwarves already knew to leave the side passage alone, on threat of death by the psykers she had installed within their ranks. She picked up one tool in particular, a hammer inscribed with a variety of arcane runes.

With a whisper, and a tap on her chest, the magic was set into motion. The passage lit ablaze with divine energy, bringing forth light as it rebounded across the walls. She was forced to hold in her scream as the divinity stored within her began to crack and split.

Lazarus went limp, collapsing on the ground as she felt the unbearable pain of the sensation of being split in every direction, contained in the frail body she had wished for. It would kill her, she knew, if her physical being was any larger, if it were to use up just another ounce of energy. But it was working. Her soul visible in her mind, she could see everything that made her who she was, everything that was so desperately trying to contain itself, but there was something in the divine cluster that differed. Something that pulled away from the rest of her, something independant. This new entity would be the first of something never done before, created from the secret only Lazarus knew. This being would be tied to her by soul forever. It was no longer her, but someone else.

The light faded from the room.

A nameless figure lay in the room, disoriented and barely conscious, too exhausted to move. Lazarus stared at the figure with bleary eyes. She let a minute pass, then said to him, “Hello?”. “Hi,” was the entity’s simple reply. It closed its eye and took a deep breath. “What is this? Who am I? What am I?” It held its hand in front of its face, curiously. Everything in this world was new to him. 

“I’m Lazarus, and you’re an extension of me. That’s who and what you are.” responded Lazarus, slowly regaining her breath. She slowly climbed to her feet and wandered over to help the figure up. The figure attempted to sit up, albeit with not much success. “Do I have a name?”

Lazarus paused for a moment, thinking. “Your name is Altair,” she shot back, beady eyes struggling to stay open after the ordeal she had put herself through. “Altair,” he murmured, echoing the sound of his name. “Thank you. What happens now, Lazarus?”

“I’m not sure,” responded Lazarus rather simply, still holding out her hand to help Altair up. The dwarves could be heard working outside the small side chamber. Altair grasped her hand, pulling himself up, trying his best not to fall back down. “You created me, right? What was your purpose?”

“Purpose? I never had a single set purpose, and I never will,” came the response. “You had no reason for creating me? No reason at all?” asked Altair. “Nobody does anything without first having a reason. What was yours? Tell me.” He was already beginning to seem significantly livelier. “In a land of enemies, an ally is invaluable,” she motioned to him, “and you are that ally.”

Altair nodded. “Alright. What should we do next?”

“For now, we rest,” Lazarus said, before returning to the floor. Altair followed suite.

- Lazarus integrates Knowledge(Divinity) using 3 might. Total might is now 0.
- Lazarus installs psykers in the ranks of the dwarves to keep them in line.
- Lazarus goes into a side passage and uses a tool to split herself.
- Altair is born from the split in Lazarus' soul.
- They decide to sleep zzzzzzz.
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