Bay 12 Games Forum

Please login or register.

Login with username, password and session length
Advanced search  
Pages: 1 2 3 [4] 5

Author Topic: Godhood VIII: Quills and Mythology - IC Thread  (Read 9544 times)


  • Bay Watcher
  • Silence is the answer.
    • View Profile
Re: Godhood VIII: Quills and Mythology - IC Thread
« Reply #45 on: November 16, 2013, 12:05:14 pm »

Hakkaros waited for a few seconds, and put his hand over his heart. His gauntlet rasped against the breastplate for a few seconds, until the metal started turning white from a sudden heat. From his chest, he seemed to pull energy in massive quantities - a third of all the essence he had. He extended his arm and held in his hand a small orb of light before Wieland, but he did not reach for the mug.

"I hold in my hand some of my own essence. It represents a third of all the strength I have in this age. My interests are numerous, and I have made an enemy in the south - one who will require all of my attention. I do not have much power to spare. Despite all this, I will gladly sacrifice a third of it all for this cause, but I cannot offer it to you here and now.

You are a Smith. A creator, forger of great artifacts. I am a Warrior. I take, and what I cannot hold, I destroy. My power lies in men, like yours lies in metal. To give you this strength would not aid you in creating your artifact - it would merely taint the purity of your own essence, corrupt and reduce its effectiveness.

But I can be of use. This strength, I shall use to gather the men who will wield the weapons the Forge creates. This strength, I will spend to ensure that only the worthy shall use the fruits of your creation, and that the forge will be defended until those who use it spend their last breath. That, I can do better than any other deity of this world."

He closed his hand around the orb, seemingly crushing it. The essence was reabsorbed completely as he lowered his arm.

"I cannot aid you in making the artifact, Smith, but I can ensure that the arm that will wield it shall be a worthy one. I lack the power to do more."


Some time after the first message, a second voice reached Radiant Sarthisyn, powerful and harsh, though it hinted at no direct intention of violence. The message was only that - rather than starting a conversation, its instigator had merely chosen to send his voice through the void to the Golden Flame, uninterested in getting a response.

"Radiant One. I am Hakkaros, God of War, and I will be brief. Your faith has been expelled from Heleph by an enemy of mine, who was working through a powerful pawn.

Though I do not seek a true war with the god who sent the creature, one thing is certain. The lich will die.

That is inevitable. Heleph's tyrant shall perish, one way or another. Consider this to be an opportunity - if you wish to reinstate your faith's place in Heleph or to fight the lich, doing so now will weaken it and hasten its doom, as well as possibly winning the favor of the people of that city.

I seek no pact nor alliance, unless you desire to make one. I am merely inviting you to strike back at our common enemy while I will be keeping it occupied."

The message ended.


  • Bay Watcher
  • Can Improve, will give back better...
    • View Profile
Re: Godhood VIII: Quills and Mythology - IC Thread
« Reply #46 on: November 16, 2013, 01:23:29 pm »

The Smith leaned back took the mug and emptied it and sighed.

It is your Choice Warrior. I am just the Smith. I told you what i need for the weapons you request. I will still try to create what you request, but do not blame me if it your weapons break against the hides of daemons and the armours are pierced by magic arrows. Go now i have work to finish.

With that the smith rose and with a flick of his hand banished the other god from his abode. Wieland now turned around and went back to his forge where 4 spheres were awaiting him. Another worthy task for the smith to finish...


In the following days Lessi shook and black smoke rose in columns so thick that the people of Lessites feared the outbreak of the Volcanoe.

Inside Lessi the forge was drenched in furious bright light as the Smith unleashed the unholy power contained within the spheres. It took all his skill to harness the power to melt the metal.
With white hot fury the Blood of Earth subjugated the power of the spheres and molded them. It took weeks to forge the appropriate forms, to carve the runes which would hold the amounts of unholy essence which would make the rings powerful artifacts of divine power.

With the ever increasing heat the slopes of Lessi began to grow hot aswell and the scavengers who usually dotted it, did not dare ascend  seeing the very weapons and armors they gathered, glowing red hot and becoming slowly one with the ground.

Finally the moment came: the forms were finished. The super-heated metal driving the inside of the volcanoe to temperatures that would simply melt a mortal man away in mere seconds. The hammer began to fall on the form releasing the form of the brass ring. Still glowing yellow. Mere water was not enough to cool it down. Cooling the ring in a tub of his own blood the temperature of the room fell rapidly as clouds of steam wafted to the heavens. It would rain for days in Lessi after that event, the very rain taking on a reddish tint. Continuing the Procedure with the Iron Ring the steam formed into an almost impenetrable fog making sight hard for Wieland as he began to hammer apart the form of the third ring.

The still moldable metal was hot enough in itself to set a man on fire should he had dared to venture too close to it. With swift and experienced hands the gems were pressed into the silver and hammer blows which unleashed crackling energy into the air fastened them in place.

The Thunder of the Hammerblows scared the people of Lessi. For never in their lives had they heard the hammer strike so hard and so loud. The optimists said that the smith was creating something truly great, while the pessimists countered that the smith had to be angry with them and that the sacrifices should be increased.

Finally the Smith set to work on the fourth ring. Freeing it from it's form its brightness was that of a small sun. Even the god eyes of the Crippled Smith were blinded by this light and he only continued his work after putting on goggles which protected him from its harsh glow. Cooling it down and engraving the mighty runes he was finally finished.

Tired and exhausted the God seemed to have shrunken in size. Yet he also seemed fulfilled. True masterworks he had created. More needed to be done.


Lessites was abust with the rumours about the recent activity around Lessi. The Volcanoe was shrouded in foreboding clouds and spewed ashes and steam into the sky like it had never before. Thunder had rolled from it and the Smith seemed to have worked hard on something. And as suddenly as it had begun, it stopped. Silence. the clouds slowly drifted apart and the Volcanoe came to peace.

And now this a man with a crippled foot who claimed to be a smith requested entry to the castle of King Testones. The guards, a superstitious lot, did not dare to stop the hobbling man. Now within the throne room the man did not kneel before the king. The court whispered in outraged voices. And how he stank! Like a savage. The smell of soot and sweat hang to him like a cloak.

Are you Testones?

What Insolence! The man dared to speak in such a way to the King? And he didnt even kneel!

I am Wieland. I have come here to make you an offer, King. Give me a hundred of the kingdoms best smiths. I know of your plight and thus in return i will help you, by granting you more time. Give me your sword Testones, and i will make sure that time does not run out before you have finished what you want to achieve.


Nessaiie was perfect. A Place, independent from the gods, favoured by none of them. Soon enough he found a mountain that pleased him. Unleashing his power, it would change as Lessi did, the Mountain awaking and like Lessi it would spew ashes into the heavens before calming down.

Inside, he carved out vast caverns and created a hundred forges, anvils and hammers made from steel but infused with his own essence to create tools able to create armors  which protected against magic and weapons which would be able to slay everything short from a god. Finally he lit the forges with his own essence, the magical flames in cooperation with the magma of the volcanoe creating forges of immense heat and power.

Wieland creates the Four Rings he was so "mysteriously" requested to create
Afterwards he appears at the Palace of Testones and offers to increase his lifespan if he is granted a hundred smiths.

Whether or not he is granted the smiths by Testones, he goes to Nesaiie where Wieland creates another Volcanoe and the Forge of the Apostate. Forges of Immense Power which can be used by a skilled smith to create weapons which are able to kill magical and divine beings (short from gods) and armour which protect from most kinds of magic.



  • Bay Watcher
  • /人 ◕ ‿‿ ◕人\
    • View Profile
Re: Godhood VIII: Quills and Mythology - IC Thread
« Reply #47 on: November 16, 2013, 04:21:38 pm »

Deep within the earth, within the beating heart of the world's magic, Magnus continues his work. Preparations must be made, the magic must be made ready for that which it was to do.

For weeks, or months, or perhaps only days, he works, ceaselessly, spinning the currents of magic to his desires.

Today, it had been made complete.

Today, his work would be made real.

With a whispered Word and a gesture, the magic roars forth, a coiled dragon within the skin of the world lashing out through the conduits and flows of the Lines, until it finds those points where they overlap, where magic is at its strongest, though not as strong as in the City... and there, it bursts from the ground, forming Pillars, pillars of magic so tightly attuned to a single universal force that they are indistinguishable. There would be but one for each, one of fire, one of ice, one of water and earth, one of magma, one of dark, and light, each one bursting forth from the ground simultaniously. It would take days from their formation for them to stabilize, and as they do, they would subside, leaving behind massive, sky-piercing towers, their summits visible from miles away.

Within these towers, a series of challenges would be put forth, a test, some hideously difficult, some requiring sacrifices only a madman would make... for at the summit of these towers was a wondrous gift.

Should a mortal, and only a mortal, reach the summit of one of these towers, they would be gifted the magic that had created it, whether it be the magic of fire, or darkness, or time, or any of the other myriad elements which had been woven into the canvas of the world.

And so, all across the world, His presence would be felt.

And so, he subsides.

Now, to watch.

Now, to wait.

Magnus creates the Towers, edifices that suddenly erupt from the ground at places where the lines converge, drawing on their power in the form of a single, pure energy. Within these towers are certain tests, and those who can best them are given control of the tower and the powers therein.
Quote from: Wing, via Discord
I want a coat that doesn't make me look like a rear admiral from the East India Company


  • Bay Watcher
    • View Profile
Re: Godhood VIII: Quills and Mythology - IC Thread
« Reply #48 on: November 23, 2013, 06:34:46 pm »

How could the Helephians not have taken that opportunity?

How could they not have helped the Apprentice to finally defeat Ka'er Thul?

They knew now that if they had, they would have been free. They would have been able to finally
pick up their old lives again. Delatheia looked at the once prideful city of Heleph,not being able to do anything but pity
the poor souls living within its walls. When she watched the streets she saw people who walked quickly and silently,
their heads pointed downwards, so as to show they mean no trouble to their overlord.
Fear and uneasiness were the words to describe the atmosphere within the city.

She could feel the shame the people felt for letting the lich control them so easily, for being so powerless
against their overlord and for still not rising up against Ka'er Thul when they had the chance. If the city were to prosper and truly live
once more she knew that the lich had to die. For that to happen she had to make the people
want to fight against him, or at least do it out of necessity.

They needed a sign.

Something that told them it was time to dethrone the tyrant.

Delatheia lingered for a while, thinking, and then she acted. She knew what she had to do. Arriving at the harbor,
she looked at the ocean stretched out before her, its waves gently gliding towards the shore.
She could feel the abundance of fish underneath its surface, and it would be those fish
she would use to accomplish her goal.

Looking at the water, she gathered her power and began to speak an incantation:

''Until the dreaded Ka'er Thul dies, the people of Heleph will no longer find food from within the oceans.''

''Their harbors will fill with the dead and rotting fish from their seas.''

''Their waters will harbor only that which their master and its god are so enthralled by; Death.''

With a simple twist of her hand she released the gathered power into the water. For a moment it glowed a faint green,
and people looked in horror when hundreds of dead fishes began surfacing, spreading the unbearable smell
of rotting flesh into the nostrils of the city’s inhabitants…

Delatheia curses the Helephians; so long as their overlord, Ka'er Thul, stands alive,
the fish within their waters will die and float towards Heleph’s harbor where
they will quickly start rotting, but never entirely decompose.



  • Bay Watcher
  • Silence is the answer.
    • View Profile
Re: Godhood VIII: Quills and Mythology - IC Thread
« Reply #49 on: November 24, 2013, 04:38:12 pm »

In the backyard of a Nessaiian barrack, soldiers were drilling. They were berserkers, every last one of them; incredibly dangerous warriors, made to be killing machines. They howled and cried as they trained, and frequently some of them were wounded because of the carelessness of their partners. Amongst the soldiers, only one of them was silent as he fought. He was by far the best of them.

When the fights ended, the silent one - his name was Nathael - returned to his quarters, tired and sore but victorious. Outside his chamber, another man was waiting. He wore a curious looking armor - concealing his entire body with a red wolf emblazoned on its breastplate, it was nearly identical to common depictions of Hakkaros - but it did not have a trace of black. Instead, anything that was not red was white as snow, bright even in a relatively dim light. The man spoke, his tone strong and firm but polite nonetheless.

"I watched you fight. You are different from all of the others. You keep your cool when the rage overtakes you. The others let it use them, and follow it as though it had a will of its own, but when it comes to you, you control it like a warrior controls a sword. There are some few who do it like you, of course, but compared to them, you are as a blademaster standing before children with sticks."

Nathael was stunned. None of his brothers-at-arms knew of his habit of controlling the rage rather than letting it overtake him; they merely thought he was naturally good with a sword, and that he did not scream because he was so concentrated. To them, the idea of resisting the fury would have seemed like madness, and so he had never uttered a word… But the stranger knew it all.

"You are amongst the best warriors of this city, Nathael, yet you fight with mere men and intend to die as a soldier instead of putting your skills to better use. I believe you are meant for greater things… And I am rarely wrong.

If you follow me, I will shown you ways to harness your ability, and to teach others to do so. I will give you a purpose and a legacy, through an Order and a Code - an Order to bear a sword into the dark where the bravest dare not step, and a Code to ensure the power you shall be granted will never be abused.

You are a warrior, but if you follow me, you will be a legend."

The soldier asked what the name of the man facing him was. The man told him he knew.

Nathael followed him.


Hakkaros appeared before the Council of Nessaiie, and he made no secret out of his identity upon doing so.

He materialized before them during a storm, becoming visible just as lightning blinded them. He towered above the tallest amongst them, and his hands rested on the hilt of his bared sword, which he held before himself. He spoke loudly, smothering their cries of surprise with his own voice.

"Sons of Nessaiie. It has been so very long since I visited this city. When I first ascended, this city was weak. A shame upon my name, one I did not wish to be associated with. But you endured. You survived. And you grew strong. Nessaiie, the only city in the world not to hold a god's favor, prospered through adversity.

I have not been idle. In Karestria, I am now recognized also recognized as a God. The war between your two cities has lasted long enough. Although I revel in destruction, this pitiful standstill benefits no one. So long as the two cities are separated, no empire can grow in this part of the world. The Lich in Heleph cannot fall. Our might cannot reach further shores. This war must end so that others, greater, can start in the years to come.

The Nessaiians and Karestrians worship me as a god, and are led by warriors. If an union there must be between these cities, it will be one founded in blood. Organize a meeting with the Karestrian king. Send the best fighter of this council to duel against him. The winner shall unite the two cities under the rule of either the Council, or the King. And the new nation that will be founded from this battle shall rise and conquer Heleph and all the lands that it can reach.

I have spoken. Make it so."

Again, a flash of lightning blinded all men present in the room, and when they looked again the Storm King was gone.

At the same time, in the city of Karestria, Daemos started hearing new whispers coming from his sword.


The creature was born a few months after Testones made his request to the god of war. It had the form of a human female, and it was created to look as though it was in its twenties. Although it knew perfectly well it was not human, it chose to identify itself as such, and even gave itself a name - Athia. It - or, perhaps, she - was formidably beautiful. She was also incredibly deadly.

She was located on an island to the southwest of Lessites, peopled mostly by barbarian tribes. She had leather armor on her, and a sword by her side. It made her smile. She had enough on her to take control of one tribe, after which it would only be a matter of time before she had her own little empire going.

She knew what her task was, of course. The king of Lessites had made a request, and Hakkaros would answer - but the god of war did not give freely. Athia's loyalty belonged only to one being, the one that had created her. She would do her duty, marry the arrogant king - if he proved fit - and bear him children, but she would raise them and advise their father as Hakkaros commanded.

All of that would have to wait for later, in any case. First, she had to get the king's attention. She started walking towards the direction of a few mumbled sounds which appeared to come from people talking. Her first conquest would take place that very day.

Hakkaros singles out a soldier in Nessaiie named Nathael for his ability to control the berserker rage. He urges Nathael to follow him and, through him, founds the Order of the Red Wolf, the world's first chivalric order.

Hakkaros appears before the Council of Nessaiie and urges them to challenge Daemos to a duel. The winner of that duel will unite Nessaiie and Karestria under one rule and found an empire capable of conquering Heleph and, eventually, all of the surrounding region, instead of keeping the two nations separated in a war fought to a standstill. Daemos' Sword warns him that the challenge is coming and urges him to accept, telling him it is an easy way to gain control of Nessaiie and get the manpower to conquer Heleph.

Hakkaros creates the Lady of War, a creature taking the form of an incredibly beautiful human female. It is formidably deadly and loyal only to him. If its mortal form dies, from old age or otherwise, it will eventually regenerate elsewhere in the world to serve her master's purpose.
For now, the Lady takes the name of Athia and is given the order to conquer tribes near Lessites, and to make it known she will marry the first man capable of defeating her.



  • Bay Watcher
  • if you must die, die spectacularly
    • View Profile
Re: Godhood VIII: Quills and Mythology - IC Thread
« Reply #50 on: November 24, 2013, 05:49:14 pm »

The Rikkit screeched inside its dirt cave carved from underneath the steppe. It could hear the dirt being taken from above it, the hunter getting closer and closer. It would kill it and it's children, it knew that much. The roof of the cave collapsed, and the hunter fell from the above. It screeched and withdrew. Even if it tried, it knew it could not even attempt to harm the hunter as his face was simply a mask. The hunter walked steadily closer as he drew back his bow.

Finally, the arrow fired, and one of the Rikkit was gone. Nambe looked at the ground, and saw that it was covered in some sort of an ectoplasm. He kneeled down and separated it, then saw what he feared the most. Eggs, with tiny Rikkit crawling around inside them. This one had already started reproducing. Immediately, he lit a ball of fire in his hand and dropped it within the egg clutch. However, as the fire spread, he saw one of the faces of the Rikkit looking at him. Without even knowing why he picked up the egg and returned to the surface while the Rikkit nest burned behind him.

The Kanskians abhorred violence. They would not stand for it in any case. Blood would infect the Earth, turning it evil and twisted, and it fed something else beyond the Earth. Nambe saw the world burn around him and knew he could do nothing for it, even as a literal god of war grew roses of blood and brambles of infection from the bodies of dead soldiers. Nambe was so tired, so tired of war. War had obliterated his tribe. He realized he could fix this. His domain only stretched so far, but when all you needed was a push it didn't matter.

But could he do something like what he thought of? Would it not be too harsh, even evil? The targets, however, loved to kill and would not be strayed from what they considered their holy duty. Honor never got you anywhere. Dishonor all too often got you places.

There was a common Kanskian saying. "Ilek Tash Veeko, Tek Leo" was the phonetic version of it: Kanskians did not tend to write things down.

Violence feeds Him. Punishment does not.

Nambe had a plan to punish those who fed the Earth with blood. He knew the most recent visiting ground of the one who brought war.


"What is this?" said Bran, kneeling down on the Karestian shores, which are infamously rainy in summer and infamously clear in winter, making enjoyment of it impossible due to the conflicting weather and temperature. The box was wooden, hand-carved. Very high quality. Steppe wood, which was rare around these parts. It didn't travel well in the water, but it traveled well enough not to fall apart. Something was carved on it.

"Just washed up a day ago. Something was moving inside it a few hours ago. It stopped after a while. The carving is in a weird language, couldn't read it." said Kell, the sailor. "Not really sure what to do here, so I brought one of you soldier types over."

"Easy. Open it and I'll kill the thing inside. Probably just a skitter crab or something." said Bran, taking out his warhammer.

"What's a skitter crab doing in a steppe wood crate?" asked Kell.

"Shut up and open the box." said Bran.

Kell did as he asked. Bran would later realize this was one of his worse orders. Inside the crate was a group of small, skittering insects. One of them looked up at him with human eyes. Bran muttered a confused curse then stepped back... Too late. It flew up and then barreled into his chest. A drill-like proboscis was unleashed from it's mouth which drilled into Bran's chest, making him scream loudly. He fell over and desperately tried to get the insect away from him, but it was no use. Eventually, the insect entered his chest, causing blood to pour out in liters. Bran died quickly but painfully. Kell stared at the horrific scene, then closed the box and then ran away. Who would want to stay?

Thirty minutes later, Bran stood up.

He opened the box, and the insects flew out.

Thus it began.

Nambe and his watchtowers begins to root out nests of Rikkit and burn their nests with fire.

He secures one egg and places it within a box of wood. It is pushed into the ocean towards Karestia and eventually lands there thanks to a magical charm within. A carved note on it says "This is your punishment".

Inside is a modified version of Rikkits. It is a small insect called a Soldier's Worry. Instead of targeting beautiful people to eat the faces of, this insect drills inside a beserker's chest and then controls them to make them wander around helping the other Soldier's Worries get to the other beserkers. There is a limited amount and they do not reproduce.


  • Bay Watcher
    • View Profile
Re: Godhood VIII: Quills and Mythology - IC Thread
« Reply #51 on: November 29, 2013, 03:19:27 pm »

Ka'er Thul walked on the walls of his castle. Looking over the creatures and people down in the courtyards training for combat. He would hold this position as a stronghold for his lord, Yahkuz. The city of Heleph will be prepared for war and the armies of his god will soon enter this dimension. Other gods might try to destroy him, but Ka'er Thul will vanquish them.

As he was entering the castle he saw something in the sky, far away. He didn't know what it was, but he sensed his Lord in it.

Yahkuz went to the Lair. This forgotten place was home to beasts of destruction, tamed and untamed. They would cause creat chaos if ever released into the world. He needed something quite like this, but tamed. As he entered into a greater chamber he was saluted by a battalion of troops. Each one of them clad in red coloured scale armour and wielding different weapons. With their right hands they held helmets, great helmets forged into the shape of dragonheads. A lone soldier came forth to meet him.

"Ordo Dragonis at your service, milord!"

Yahkuz answered with a curt, but polite knod. These men would enter into the living realm and provide support for his agents there. He gave them orders to answer to Ka'er Thul, to wreak havoc to the people of Nessaiie and disturb the enemy, but not to do anything stupid. With that the battalion exited the hall with great energy and organization.

Yahkuz went to the window to his right and looked down at the exit. One by one great dragons of all colours and shapes exited, each with a rider on it. They gathered to a field and there in formation took off. He could see the muscles on these great beasts flex as powerful wings struck the air, lifting them up. The leader rose first, with the rest following him in formation, it was a grand formation, only used for ceremonious demonstrations. He watched till they became mere dots in the sky.

Yahkuz unleashes the Ordo Dragonis to the living realm and assigns them to Ka'er Thul

Spoiler: Ordo Dragonis (click to show/hide)
That last gobbo would stand there, missing an arm, punctured in a kidney, liver, and spleen, fading in and out of consciousness at the far end of where the drawbridge would go, and his last sight would be the drawbridge dropping down and smashing him like a bug.

God DAMN I love this game!


  • Bay Watcher
    • View Profile
Re: Godhood VIII: Quills and Mythology - IC Thread
« Reply #52 on: February 07, 2014, 07:32:17 pm »

Ode gives the Voice the ability to consume and grow off other (biological) matter. The Voice is commanded to only use this ability on the dead or on enemies of Ode. – 1 Essence
Ode gives the Voice the ability to create infertile offspring of various shapes and sizes from its own mass. – 1 Essence
Ode orders the first offspring of the Voice to find and observe the Rittik and then to test it in combat. – 0 essence

Wieland, in his Wanderer aspect, returns to Lessi and upon ascending the slopes of the volcano reverts to his Smith aspect. – 0 Essence

Hakkaros and Wieland strike a deal.

Radiant Sarthysin meets the Archspawn, who is disguised as Galadrin. They do not appear to take a liking to each other.

The Archspawn covertly sends four metallic spheres (imbued with his essence) to Wieland, along with a request for a set of artifacts. – 1 Essence
Wieland grants the (Archspawn's) mysterious request and forges the four rings of power, which are then discovered by four different men in Western Hiate. – 0 Essence (The Archspawn paid for these artifacts.)
Spoiler: The rings of power (click to show/hide)

The Archspawn sends visions of Galadres, the Holy City, to the slaves of Remestes in their sleep. He also sends visions of Remestes and the Arcane Council to Umeran and some of the most influential in the Empire, martyring Adagnites and stressing the plight of the non-magically apt citizens of Remestes. – 2 Essence
The Archspawn commands Umeran to construct a great fortress in the Vein, called the 'Morning's Bastion', a great House of Trade and a shipyard to the south of Galadres, and a great library in Delephia called the Seat of Knowledge. – 0 Essence
The Archspawn bargains with the Apprentice for his son and grants him the power to fulfill one of his wishes. The purer the intent, the more likely it is to go right. If his wish is for selfish reasons, however, the odds are great that it will cause negative consequences. – 1 Essence

Wieland increases Testones' lifespan in return for a hundred smiths. – 1 Essence
Wieland creates the Forge of the Apostate in Nessaiie. – 2 Essence

Magnus creates the Towers, edifices that suddenly erupt from the ground at places where the Dragon Lines converge, drawing on their power in the form of a single, pure energy. Within these towers are certain tests, and those who can best them are given control of the tower and the powers therein. – 3 Essence (They won't all appear at the same time. I'll raise one this turn, and you can raise one new tower for free every turn after if you give it flavor and a further description. Basically, you get a 'Tower Act' every turn to raise one of your towers. That way you will also feel as if they're really your creations. If there are finally enough, I'll let you know.)

Delatheia curses the Helephians: so long as their overlord, Ka’er Thul, stands ‘alive’, the fish within their waters will die and float towards Heleph’s harbor where they will quickly start rotting, but never entirely decompose. – 3 Essence

Hakkaros singles out a soldier in Nessaiie named Nathael for his ability to control the berserker rage. He urges Nathael to follow him and, through him, he founds the Order of the Red Wolf, the world’s first chivalric order. – 0 Essence
(I like how you summarized your acts of this turn. Truly exemplary.)
Hakkaros appears before the council of Nessaiie and urges them to challenge Daemos to a duel. The winner of that duel will unite Nessaiie and Karestria under one rule and found an empire capable of conquering Heleph and, eventually, all of the surrounding region, instead of keeping the two nations separated in a war fought to a standstill. Daemos’ sword warns him that the challenge is coming and urges him to accept, telling him it is an easy way to gain control of Nessaiie and get the manpower to conquer Heleph. – 1 Essence
Hakkaros creates the Lady of War, a creature taking the form of an incredibly beautiful human female. It is formidably deadly and loyal only to him. If its mortal form dies, from old age or otherwise, it will eventually regenerate elsewhere in the world to serve her master’s purpose. She takes the name of Athia. – 3 Essence (I found this a really tough decision, but given her intelligence, abilities to choose her shape, almost complete immortality and innate loyalty I decided that she was indeed worth an investment of three acts. If you disagree, please let me know, as you may very well change my mind.)
Hakkaros orders the Lady of War to conquer tribes on the islands near Lessites, and to make it known that she will marry the first man capable of defeating her. – 0 Essence

Nambe and his watchtowers begin to root out nests of the Rittik’s offspring and burn their nests with fire. (I changed things slightly. Instead of the Rittik as a race, its offspring is weak compared to the original, so the original is still around, but at the same time it fits what everyone wrote perfectly. Plus, it justifies why Nambe and his watchtowers are so busy: The Rittik just lays nest after nest at an incredible pace, then leaves its infertile offspring to their devices, eluding even the watchtowers (for now)).[/b] – 0 Essence (Unlike most other Gods, Nambe does not sleep. He hunts spirits.)
Nambe secures one of the Rittik’s eggs and places it within a box of wood. He pushes it into the ocean toward Karestria and it eventually lands there thanks to a magical charm within. A carved note on it says “This is your punishment.” The box contains the Soldier’s Worry. – 1 Essence
Spoiler: Soldier’s Worry (click to show/hide)

Yahkuz unleashes the Ordo Dragonis to the living realm and assigns them to Ka’er Thul. (I felt obliged to ‘nerf’ the greatness of your great dragons a bit. They’re ‘drakes’ now. Imagine dragons, sized like horses. Their wings are still formidable and allow them to fly, and they are still extremely dangerous beings. You are fond of releasing groups of powerful magical beings on the world. Given that most Gods spend a lot of acts on even a single person, I can't help but make your acts expensive. I do take into account the flavor of your God, seeing how he 'releases' his warriors from the plane of the dead instead of creating them, but they are still expensive. If you think that this is an unreasonable decision on my part, please let me know!) - 5 Essence
Spoiler: Ordo Dragonis (click to show/hide)

Born from the Phoenix, son of a shaman; I walked among the Gods, and I was there when they made their decisions. I was there during the exodus, and I was there when history was written. When I found out that I was beyond the reach of time, I searched for an answer. I found this answer when the Gods started to fall, when I learned who my mother really was. The history that I had learned, that I had lived, appeared to be but a speck in all that was, is, and would be.

I am far from understanding the relationship between Essence and Void, but I have ascended to something beyond Godhood. I have become a walker of the Void, existing between the universes. I am not my mother, nor am I my father. I am not a God, but I am, and they are not. Sometimes it pains me to know that I am the last of my lineage, but then the timelessness of the Void washes over me like a never-ending tide, taking my pain, my happiness, my memories away. I think, therefore I am. Beyond that, I have let go of the concept of certainty.


Turn Three: Puppets

The Keeper heaved a sigh. The sound echoed through the endless library. It knew that the mortals sought to build something similar, but never would they achieve what its Ancient One had achieved. It worked its holy task, tending to the collection of works, and it never buckled. It had purpose, it had a name, and it had the power to fulfill its purpose. It possessed vast knowledge, but the Keeper did not know love the way humans did, nor did it understand how something as arbitrary as an emotion could drive them to do what they did. Like humans understood the implications of gravity without actually knowing the concept truly, so did it understand ambition without feeling it.

With its arms on the desk, it opened the work that detailed this world, its eyes devouring line after line, word after word, letter after letter in a frenzy.

"Of puppets and ambitions

Time passes quickly underneath the nameless sun of this world, and there, in the lands not hidden by the mists known as 'the End', the Gods again played their respective parts, and thus history was written:

The Voice of Ode, a being growing on the filth of humanity ever so slowly, produces offspring unlike anything known to the world. Ugly, filthy and often flawed severely, they nonetheless deserved a name. As 'the Children of Ode', they aided the Astineans in their search for the Rittik. Upon discovering the creature, they fought it. It took them a while to realize that it could not be wounded by sword or limb, and it was thus that they returned to the Voice, informing it of their failure. The Voice then caressed its children mentally, and it alerted Nambe's Watchtowers to the location of the Rittik. Together with the Children of Ode, the Watchtowers bested the Rittik. As they prepared to strike the beast down, a wind swept through the cavern that was its nest at the time, and when it again came to rest, the creature was gone.

Umeran founded the city of Adagnes, which was soon to be the home of the House of Trades. It laid along the west-most coasts of Hiate, where a river ran from the Vein to the oceans. Even though it started small, the crown that rested on Umeran's head soon drew people from the East, who eagerly came to live under his rule. Thus, the city grew, and as it did, so did the realm in which it lay. The cities of Adagnes, Delephia and Galadres formally formed the Empire of the Morning Sun. The Empire soon started construction on a Great Library in Delephia, led by the greatest sage of the imperial court. In Adagnes, a grand landowner financed the House of Trades, which would become the economic center of the Empire.

Umeran had not named the Third City arbitrarily, for he had learned of Adagnites, master of magics. He learned how his disciples had murdered him and established a Magocracy in Remestes, oppressing those without the talent to practice magic. Adagnites had been the power of equality in the city, and with his death he had become a martyr. Adagnites thus became the prophet of balance. Umeran had not been the only one to learn of the injustice in Remestes, and together with his closest advisers, he had brought the word to the public.

The Council of Mages had not failed to take note of the great dissent in the Empire, as few great events escaped their notice. In an attempt to avoid a potential war, they sent an envoy, lead by a mage. It took seven weeks, seven days and seven hours for the mage to arrive, and when he did, he told Umeran who he was, why he had come, and how he hoped to win his favor. Upon learning that the mage represented the Council, the Emperor had him flayed alive in public over the course of seven days, seven hours and seven minutes. Employing his greatest physicians to keep the mage alive during the process, he was still on this world to see his skin displayed as a standard of war. The mage was then set on a pyre, and burned. To those who had traveled with the mage, Umeran promised that they would carry this banner when they came to free the oppressed from the mages' rule, when they came to restore the balance. He promised a crueler fate to each of the members of the Council if they were not to repent, surrender themselves to Galadrin, and beg for his mercy. Fourteen weeks, fourteen days, fourteen hours later, a messenger of non-magical blood returned with the message that Remestes and the Empire of the Morning Sun were now at war.

Umeran summoned the greatest architects of his realm after receiving this declaration of war. With their aid, he devised the construction of a fortress so great, that his Lord would undoubtedly be pleased. Seeing, however, what kind of strain this would put on the Empire, he begged Galadrin for forgiveness, promising him to fulfill his wishes and construct the Morning Bastion as soon as the realm had finished its current grand projects, when it could actually carry the burden.

On the other side of the known world, the Apprentice lived with his wife for several years before she became pregnant. Nine months later, a few days after his son, 'Xarn', was born, a strange old man visited them. Welcoming the stranger, the Apprentice let him stay for the night. The stranger, who had expressed great interest in Xarn, revealed his true identity the morning after. He offered the Apprentice a wish, in return for his child. The Apprentice accepted, and he gave his son to the dark God. Tears, threats and terror gripped the small household that night, when his wife learned of their child's fate. The Apprentice tried to reason with her, the woman for whom he actually felt love, tried to explain his reasons to the one person on that world who knew his name, but in the end he failed to understand the future he envisioned for both them and their child. Cursing him and his name, she left him.

Grief-struck, the Apprentice spent a month lurking around the village where his wife lived. She had neither spoken of the reason of her disappearance from the tribe years ago, nor of the reason of her return. He watched, he longed, he pained himself, and eventually he surrendered. Torn by misery, he left the village behind him and made the wish he had intended to make. Releasing the great amount of divine power the dark God had given him in return for his child, the Apprentice conjured his immortality.

A great wind swept over the lands, and but moments later, it carried a wounded creature to the land. The creature's face was beautiful, but its body was that of an insect, a predator. It burrowed into the ground moments later, and it took the Apprentice a long time to discover its trail. When he finally did, he found that it led to the village where the woman of his heart lived. The beast lay over her, her face blank, like slate. When it looked up at him, it wore the face of the person he had loved. In his rage, he conquered the creature, absorbing its spiritual essence, which granted him the immortality he had wished for. At the same time, it robbed him of the love he had felt. His howls of pain and regret echoed over the island for a night, and they were joined by a great storm. After the storm, he was gone.

In the Steppes of Hiate, a great tower rose from the ground. It consisted entirely of ruby, unbreakable by human means. This was the Tower of Hearts, and it stood there where two of the Dragon Lines that fed the magic of the world crossed. The tower was a manifestation of magic, and it contained great strength for those who could best it. It contained a pestilence beyond reckoning, as well as a room of mirrors which cast an illusion on those that entered it, enveloping them in their greatest fears. Such were the tests of the Heart, for the magic contained therein was as powerful as were the tests one had to overcome. Those who could tap into the power could heal almost any ailment, almost every wound, and even those whose hearts were weak. They who could defeat the tower would never feel fear again, and they would be able to give this power to those they chose. Many men entered the tower in hope of gaining that which the inscriptions on the doorway promised, but none returned, and eventually the tower stood abandoned, avoided.

Hakkaros' Lady of War was almost as skilled at war as was her creator, as were his chosen champions. It took her little effort to conquer the wild tribes of the islands, and when she united them and led them to the walls of Testonea, it was with not merely the skill of a tactician, but with the silver tongue of a leader. Her horde surrounded the city, and none could get in or out. Testones, who led the defense, was intrigued by the situation. Half his army had been overwhelmed before he could react, and they cut off their route not merely to Lessites over the Three Thrones, but also to the rest of the land: Athia had constructed a palisade wall around Testonea, effectively locking in the city. Thus it was that a battle of attrition began. Sending out poisoners and assassins, both parties attempted to force the other to submit. Testones resorted to an exodus of the elderly to preserve precious food, Athia allowed her warriors to eat the corpses of the deceased to stay alive. The siege lasted for almost one year, but it were Athia's supplies that ran out first, if only because she fielded thrice as many men as did Testones. The Lady of War was forced to assault the walls, but that too went with preparation.

Great towers rolled towards the walls, and ladders were carried across the expanse that lay between the palisades and the walls of Testonea. For three days, men climbed the walls, fought on the walls, fell down the walls, and retreated from the walls to await a next attempt. Both sides suffered great losses, but it was morale on the side of the attackers that faltered first. During the fourth day, Athia led the assault personally, and Testones met her on the western tower of the northern gatehouse. There, a compact formation of Lessitians collided with a dense pack of invaders. The formations pressed against each other until, finally,  Athia's formation began to lose its will to fight. By the time the first few men had run and the others started to follow suit, Testones had lost three fingers on his weapon hand. Of the army that had scaled his walls, only one person remained. In their wake the horde had left the Lady of War, who defied the many spears leveled against her, as if she feared not the king's army.

Their battle was not one of epics, for Athia was fatigued and malnourished when Testones fought her in personal combat. It was, however, a display of her willpower, for she pushed her body to the most extreme limits to defy the king. For five minutes, they circled each other, like two predators looking for a weakness in the opponent, calculating the best maneuvers they could make to best their enemy. Athia counted on an attack aimed at her shield arm, and Testones counted on her to think just that. He struck at her legs instead, throwing her to the ground. Victoriously, he placed his spear underneath her chin. They married the next day, and Testones' kingdom bustled with activity as the people prepared to wage war in the name of Hakkaros. Hakkaros had provided Testones with a challenge, and it was now time for him to take up his promise.

Sometimes the preparations for war lay not in arming oneself, but in disarming themselves. Nessaiie and Karestria, united under common Gods and with a common enemy, had but to decide on the leadership of their newborn alliance. Karestria had chosen its champion; king Daemons himself, but Nessaiie struggled to find a champion worthy to represent their cause. When they held a championship among fighters to find the most worthy representative, Nathael joined. Nathael had received a mission most holy from his Lord Hakkaros, and he would succeed at his goal. He knew of the Forge that had been created in the mountain with its eruption, and he knew of the order he was supposed to found. Before he could do such a thing, however, he needed to outgrow the Hounds of War and gain influence and respect within the nation. So it was that he came to emerge victorious over all his opponents who had sought the honor to fight for Nessaiie.

The duel was held on a ship, as naval combat was regarded most honorable among both Nessaiians and Karestrians. Before Nathael stood king Daemos, who wielded a masterfully crafted sword known as Thunder. The two opponents circled each other for minutes, and unlike the battle that raged in the north between Hakkaros' Lady of War and the wielder of the other Storm Blade, this duel would last for over a quarter of an hour. The opponents were well matched, and many a blow was dodged, circumvented, or parried. Both combatants accrued bruises and scratches, and every time they parted to regain their footing, they looked more ragged, but also more respectful of their enemy. It took almost fifteen minutes for Nathael to find an opening, knowing that it would take a great sacrifice. In one swift movement, he guided the king's sword, which was aimed at his chest, down to his foot, where it lobbed it off. The movement, however, allowed Nathael to plunge his weapon in the king's undefended chest, where it pierced his heart. Both warriors collapsed, one dying, one struggling to survive. As they lay next to each other, the king, with trembling hands, lay his sword between them, then his crown on top. Thus having submitted defeat, he passed away, into the halls of Yahkuz.

Nathael became a hero, and, while crippled, he kept Thunder with him at all times. Using the momentum, he announced that he would create an order, which had been revealed to him by their Lord Hakkaros. As none dared protest his decision, he was instead congratulated with great enthusiasm. Handing his victory to the Council of Nessaiie, as decided before, he returned to Nessaiie, where he settled the Order of the Red Wolf in the Forge. Few things changed for the citizens of Karestria and Nessaiie, but the ultimate military decisions now lay with the Council. Both cities, however, did add a new God to their pantheon: Wieland. After Nathael's urging, the Forge was declared a holy place, and the greatest commanders of both cities came together to discuss their war against Heleph.

Heleph, where the carcasses of past times pollute the harbors, where the smell of death in the air had become so strong that it made the air itself shiver with disgust. The city was dying, and its inhabitants took it no longer. What started as small protest grew into riots, and even the army was on the verge of collapsing. That was so, until the Ordo Dragonis came. On their horrid mounts, they pushed the citizens back in line, and those that did not obey were slain. Ka'er Thul collected the dead, reviving them, keeping them hidden as his puppets. To the population the city was dying, but to him, it was growing.

So strong was Heleph's plague, that the Soldier's Worry on Karestria too was believed to be a manifestation of the vile lich-king's rule. The modification of the Rittik's offspring proved devious and horrid, and it quickly fed on the many berserkers that lived on Karestria, until finally none remained. They had turned against each other, fought even the citizens, and eventually everyone had turned against the berserkers in fear of being infected themselves. After the last Soldier's Worry died, not a single berserker remained standing. When Nessaiie learned of this, they sent the Hounds of War to educate a new generation of berserkers, but what traditions had been on Karestria were gone.”

The Keeper closed the massive work at this page. It had read all this before, and it had pondered its implications: like its master, it reveled in attempting to predict the future. Its hands slipped over the books on the nearby shelves, searching for one tome, then another, then another, continuing that way until it had collected over a hundred different histories. Then it began to read of the world before all worlds, the one mystery to which the library contained no answer.

The offspring of the Voice of Ode become known as the 'Children of Ode'.
The Children of Ode discover the Rittik, and combat it. While several of them perish, they manage to retreat.
The Voice of Ode alerts several of Nambe's Watchtowers to the location of the Rittik, and it sends its children along with them to find and best it.
The Rittik is bested in combat after inflicting several casualties among those that hunted it, but it disappears before it can be destroyed or banished.

Umeran founds the city of Adagnes, to the southwest of the Vein, populating it with immigrants from the East side of the Vein.
With the founding of Adagnes, the three cities to the west of the Vein unite themselves under the name of the 'Empire of the Morning Sun', or 'the Empire' for short.
The Empire starts construction on a Great Library in Delephia and the House of Trades in Adagnes.
Umeran declares Adagnites the 'prophet of balance', propagandizing him as the defender of equality between those with and those without the power of magic.
The Magocracy of Remestes sends an envoy to the Empire of the Morning Sun. Umeran has the mage who leads the envoy publicly flayed and burned for the crimes of Remestes' rulers. The rest of the envoy returns to Remestes.
The Magocracy of Remestes declares formal war on the Empire, although this has no consequences as of yet.
Umeran summons the most cunning architects of his realm to design the Morning Bastion. While these designs are soon finished, he delays construction until he deems the realm capable of carrying it out.

The Apprentice bargains with the Archspawn, and sells his child in exchange for a wish.
The Apprentice names his newborn son 'Xarn', and his child is soon after whisked away to Remestes.
The Apprentice's wife abandons him upon learning of the deal he struck.
The Apprentice wishes for immortality, which, as a result, summons the Rittik. The Rittik hunts down his (former) wife for her beauty, and the Apprentice slays the being in his fury, inheriting its magical nature and immortality.
The Apprentice goes missing after gaining his immortality and losing his wife.

The Tower of the Heart is raised in the Steppes of Hiate, where two dragon lines cross.
Spoiler: Tower of the Heart (click to show/hide)
The Tower of the Heart remains unconquered.

The Lady of War quickly conquers and unites the tribes living on the smaller islands surrounding Lessites and Testonea. Commanding a horde, she lands on the three Thrones and travels south, to Testonea, where she lays siege to the city.
Testones holds out for almost a year, and eventually even the Lady of War grows impatient and she decides to try and scale the city walls. Testones manages to achieve tactical victory, and he personally captures the Lady of War, even though it costs him three of the fingers on his sword hand.
Testones marries Athia, and pledges his loyalty to Hakkaros, including the God in the city's Pantheon, equal to Wieland.
Testones manages his realm with great efficiency, gearing for large-scale war.

Nathael volunteers as champion to represent Nessaiie's council in the duel between Nessaiie and Karestria for rulership over both city-states.
Nathael closely defeats Daemos in single combat, losing his right foot in the process, and the council of Nessaiie becomes the ruling party of the two states. Nathael keeps Thunder, the slain king's Storm Sword.
Nathael uses the influence he gained as champion to set up the Order of the Red Wolf, settling in the Forge.
Nessaiie and Karestria recognize Wieland as one of their Gods in addition to Hakkaros and his wife, Deletheia, and the council declares the Forge a holy place.
Nessaiie and Karestria retain their original societal structures, save the rulership.

Heleph suffers from great famine as their harbors fill with the rotting fish that would otherwise be their main supply of food. The city suffers from great unrest, but Ka'er Thul makes thankful use of the Ordo Dragonis to suppress the unhappy populace, while secretly reviving the dead as his puppets, bolstering his armies with the undead.

The Soldier's Worry, which almost completely wipes out the Karestria's berserkers, is perceived as a plague sent by Yahkuz, and for a while the entire city lives in fear. Eventually Nessaiie's Hounds of War replace Karestria's original order of berserkers.

Code: [Select]
(Atilliano) Deletheia: 2 Essence
(Azthor) The Archspawn: 2 Essence
(Fniff) Nambe: 4 Essence
(Ghazkull) Wieland: 2 Essence
(gman8181) Ode: 3 Essence
(Harbingerjm) Radiant Sarthisyn: 3 Essence
(ragnarok97071) Magnus: 3 Essence
(Shootandrun) Hakkaros: 3 Essence
(Vagel7) Yahkuz: 1 Essence
« Last Edit: February 08, 2014, 03:46:05 pm by Caesar »
Spider Overhaul
Adding realistic spiders to Dwarf Fortress. (Discontinued.)

Godhood VIII
The latest installment in the Godhood roleplaying game series.


  • Bay Watcher
  • /人 ◕ ‿‿ ◕人\
    • View Profile
Re: Godhood VIII: Quills and Mythology - IC Thread
« Reply #53 on: February 07, 2014, 11:42:41 pm »

Humans were not his concern. Even those he had blessed. Should they sow their own destruction, then he would find other places to cultivate his stock.

He continues to work on his own projects, shaping them quietly, watching how their ways unfold.

"So there is Light, must there be Darkness.

So there is Fire, must there be Ice.

So there is Life, must there be Death."

Thus does Magus decree, and from his decree a twin tower to the Tower of the Heart spring forth.

Even as the Heart brings forth the power to heal, to inspire, and to bless, so does the Soul give the ability to curse, to waste, and to enthrall. to consume the essence of others, and to bind that very essence to your command.

For all must be in balance.

Then, he appears, in dreams, all across the world, as far as his power would reach.

Whispers, of the Towers, of the glory within, for those strong enough, brave enough to claim it.

Power to save, or damn.

If only they would conquer these edifices, and consecrate their glory to their Creator.
Quote from: Wing, via Discord
I want a coat that doesn't make me look like a rear admiral from the East India Company


  • Bay Watcher
  • Mr. Peanut - The Peanut Man
    • View Profile
Re: Godhood VIII: Quills and Mythology - IC Thread
« Reply #54 on: February 09, 2014, 10:36:05 am »

Peace had given the Asteneii tribes time to recuperate from the losses incurred from the severe infighting and external wars that had dominated much of their history. Trade and cooperation with Keluss had brought wealth, new allies and other benefits previously denied to the Asteneii whom many had long considered uncivilized horse riding barbarians. This behavior of course was not completely natural to the tribal leaders who had for many generations been adamantly stuck in their ways and many of whom still felt the pride of pure ancestry and strict clan traditions. Even still, the Voice’s influence over lesser minds was considerable and its sweet alluring whispers left few to dissent even among the most strong headed and xenophobic of the populace. The people of Asteneii and Keluss were to be brought together, it sung, in a new golden age. The Rittick had seemingly dissappeared and its lesser offspring faded with it. The trade routes were far safer without those creatures lurking and the Enforcers traveled the roads daily to keep more mundane dangers like bandits in check. Trade goods were shipped out in ever increasing quantities bringing great fortune to both nations and before long the people of Asteneii were welcoming their southern neighbors into the north with open arms as if they were the same people. Surprising quantities of migrants traveled in, drawn by numerous worldly opportunities and allures along with the subtle beckonings of Ode’s Voice. Temples were built, dedicated to two gods: Ode the father of civilization and Nambe the keeper of natural balance. One god to guide along the march of unity and civilization and One to keep the vast number of dangerous supernatural horrors in check. Families of mixed lineage became increasingly common and well accepted by all. Encouraged by these events, many people of Asteneii began migrating south as well hoping to start new lives and see new sights in the south. Soon the Voice began reaching out to other people as well. Far along the continent, it was heard, calling ever out and beckoning home.

Under the guidelines of Ode, the Voice played out its little games with mortals much like mortals themselves played out their own games in life; crawling towards their goals to the best of their abilities while gods, nature and sometimes fickle fate threw things in the way. It was the dreams and emotions of mortals as they crawled towards their end that had created Ode. These were the things he was sustained on and he seeked them out hungrily. Domination of mortals was a harsh term to describe his feeding when it could be so very pleasant for them. They could be happy and content and so would he as long as enough of those emotions were directed towards him to feed on. Indeed, Ode truly did crave these things- and for more than just food alone. While other gods lingered in the world of mortals or in the realm of souls, Ode had only the dreams of mortals to keep him occupied. He drifted among them watching and learning and tasting. He wanted so much more though and there was so much to work with. Ode coiled up in the darkest depths of his empty realm and sighed exasperatedly. Other gods slept but Ode did so more than any other. Like the mortals, he dreamed but unlike them his had power. He dreamt of an end to his loneliness and his wandering amongst dreams. Instead he imagined that all mortal dreams would come to him- and so they did.

The Void swirled and took on many hues of color that somehow blended seamlessly together before taking on a myriad set of different forms. Twisting skies in which flowed churning rivers and dark alien moons below which stood great empty plains, thick jungle forests, swamps and mirror images of vast cities both known and unknown to the world of man. The DreamScape was born, a realm brought forth from the dreams, emotions and thoughts of mortals. Vast portions of it reflected these things and as such were constantly shifting into new forms, sometimes slightly varied other times completely unrecognizable. Creatures too came to be here, and they also were reflective of the thoughts that created them. Horrible nightmarish monstrosities, kind fairies and strange spectres taking on the image of both living and dead mortals. The strongest of these creatures were born from mass emotions like the great feelings of bloodlust, horror and pain during wars or the wasting feelings of dread from the many sickly dying of the world or even the numerous feelings of happiness derived from great numbers of newly married couples and the births of their children. These greater beings would sometimes manage to claim large sections of the DreamScape and the more lowly residents dwelling within it. These regions often came to reflect the nature of their owners; becoming either mythical places of wonder or the embodiment of mankind’s inner darkness. The largest region of the DreamScape though was Ode’s private garden. There great sleepy trees grew and cast down soothing shade in an almost eerily peaceful way. Slowly gurgling streams winded through and large beds of soft moss covered much of the ground. A beautiful garden, Ode mused in his sleep, but no one to appreciate it yet.

The Voice encourages increased relationships between Asteneii and Keluss, including increased migration between the two areas and families of mixed lineage.
Temples to both Ode and Nambe are built in the region under the Voice's influence.
The Voice calls out to the people around the continent, urging them to pilgrimage to the Voice and see if they feel happy there.

Ode creates the DreamScape- A realm created from mortal dreams, emotions and thoughts.
It is filled with various entities also created from dreams, emotions and thoughts- the most powerful of which are created from strong emotions shared by large groups of people.
The more powerful entities can gain control over portions of the DreamScape and the lesser entities dwelling in that area- they can then shape that area somewhat to their own liking.
The largest "owned" portion of the DreamScape is Ode's Garden which is a somewhat eerie but sleepy, peaceful area filled with trees, soft moss and small gurgling streams.
Sure thing peanut man!


  • Bay Watcher
  • Silence is the answer.
    • View Profile
Re: Godhood VIII: Quills and Mythology - IC Thread
« Reply #55 on: February 12, 2014, 05:57:37 pm »

In the halls of the god of death, a powerful sound erupted, breaking the silence like a storm would break the peace of a summer night. The harsh, strong voice that spoke had been heard before by those that resided there, for this was not the first time Hakkaros made contact with the ruler of the afterlife.

"Yakhuz. I have grown tired of our squabbles.

I seek to put this futile war to an end. Actions from the north have troubled me, and a god has caused my ire, in a fashion that you never previously have. Nessaiie and Karestria are united, and Heleph is little more than a rotting ruin of a city. I have little to gain by continuing this fight.

As the peace I seek shall be between our realms as well as between us, agents in the physical realm must speak for mortals to be able to lay down their arms. The man I chose to represent my mortal followers is named Nathael Silvermark. I wish for him to negotiate with your lich, Ka'er Thul. However, he is crippled, and even if he was not, the abomination would overpower him and all his brothers in arms.

So as to ensure there shall be no treachery, I propose to have the meeting held in the Forges of the Apostate. Though my representative will be considerably weaker than yours, my domain's presence and his brothers should at least even the battlefield if you break your word. Since I assume you shall not trust me, I am willing to swear upon all of the essence I currently have that my servants will not harm yours by my orders or my actions, unless it is in self-defense.

Do not mistake your position to be stronger than it is, O Lord of the rotten. Heleph is still strong, but its human inhabitants are dying, and its undead armies will not grow stronger once no living creature resides within it. You cannot afford to continue at this pace anymore than I. I believe you have much to gain by at least hearing out my offer - what you make of it, is up to you."

The message ended, leaving only echoes in its wake.

Hakkaros asks to negotiate for peace with Yakhuz. In order to make sure the peace is both between the gods and their mortal servants, he proposes to have Ka'er Thul meet his representative, Nathael Silvermark, inside the Forge of the Apostate, where they should have roughly equal strength if Ka'er Thul made an aggressive action.

Hakkaros swears upon all his current strength (three essence) that, should Yakhuz agree to send the lich, his servants will not attack Ka'er Thul on his orders or because of his actions, unless it is in self-defense.


  • Bay Watcher
  • Doomy Dooms of Doom, Discount Sale!
    • View Profile
Re: Godhood VIII: Quills and Mythology - IC Thread
« Reply #56 on: February 12, 2014, 06:12:21 pm »

Once more a strange sphere finds its way to Wieland's forge, this one of the purest black, distilled void "A sword unlike any other. No more is necessary. Void knows its shape best. As last time, should you refuse, leave them be, and I will retrieve them. Should you accept, work your mastery upon it, and set it upon the tablet. The sword will take a toll upon its forger. The due will be repaid when you most require it".

Wieland receives a single sphere of distilled void from the very same mysterious sender, and a request for an artifact sword, presented as another opportunity for Him to employ His full mastery of the craft.
« Last Edit: February 12, 2014, 06:25:08 pm by Azthor »


  • Bay Watcher
  • Can Improve, will give back better...
    • View Profile
Re: Godhood VIII: Quills and Mythology - IC Thread
« Reply #57 on: February 12, 2014, 06:46:44 pm »

Wieland had returned from the Forge of the Apostate unhappy with the smiths. All of them mortal, weak. Imperfect. For months he worked in the forge his weapons and armours of lesser quality than usual, his anger growing ever brighter and thus the Forge itself starting to glow whitehot until the very steel he forged with smelted in his hands. He was about to give up when another of the strange spheres appeared.

He was intrigued. The four rings had been perfection. Once again the unkown solicitor left him with a sphere. His hand reached for the black sphere and stopped a few inches from it. It pained him. It hurt.

It was a good pain.

Wieland grabbed the sphere and felt the strength sapped from him. Nonetheless he began to forge, more and more of his power pouring into the sphere, the Forge growing dimmer and dimmer and even the Volcano itself starting to cool down. Hoarfrost formed on the surroundings as temperatures dropped further and further, yet despite the physical impossibility of forging a weapon without heat the Black Ingot let itsel fbe forged. Wieland grew weaker and weaker, his sight swimming in front of as he hits the steel again and again.

In a last titanic effort he finished the weapon his essence now flowing in a veritable stream from his eyes and his mouth. The weapon finished the Smith collapsed and fell into a deep sleep, the weapon left finished upon the anvil.

Wieland creates a black sword. A masterfully crafted sword of unknown origins. Made of the purest black, hunger primeval emanates from it.


  • Bay Watcher
  • Doomy Dooms of Doom, Discount Sale!
    • View Profile
Re: Godhood VIII: Quills and Mythology - IC Thread
« Reply #58 on: February 12, 2014, 07:18:27 pm »

« Last Edit: February 12, 2014, 07:22:05 pm by Azthor »


  • Bay Watcher
    • View Profile
Re: Godhood VIII: Quills and Mythology - IC Thread
« Reply #59 on: February 24, 2014, 04:45:23 pm »

Yahkuz listens carefully and patiently to Hakkaros' proposal. The offer pleased him but he was not naive enough to just walk into something like that. Essence could be restored with probably no cost at all, but a valuable asset might not be so easy to replace. Thinking on this little change of affairs, he finally decided on a course of action.

He sent his message to Hakkaros with the utmost calm that would usually be used to describe him. "Hakkaros! It is good to hear from you kinder words than were uttered before, yet still I can sense some dislike for my realm within your words.

But I am not pleased with your conditions for negotiations. I can not send Ka'er Thul to negotiate with you for obvious reasons. I can however send a representative of Ka'er Thul to take part in these talks. As this agreement is between us and not our agents, then you would agree with me, that the meeting would be a thing of formality and as such does not require the presence of somebody like Ka'er Thul.

If you would insist on a meeting between Ka'er Thul and so called Nathan, then if my first proposal does not suit you, then a meeting on a plain open field, where you can see as far as the eye reaches. This would be a far safer option for both of our representatives, don't you agree?"

He then slowly went to take a seat at his chair in the council room and went on to ponder at the maps of the human realm laid on the table. Each map was very finely drawn and had different uses. There were detailed maps of mountain ranges and forests. Maps of the cities as well as a huge map for each continent.
That last gobbo would stand there, missing an arm, punctured in a kidney, liver, and spleen, fading in and out of consciousness at the far end of where the drawbridge would go, and his last sight would be the drawbridge dropping down and smashing him like a bug.

God DAMN I love this game!
Pages: 1 2 3 [4] 5