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Author Topic: Godhood VIII: Quills and Mythology - IC Thread  (Read 12485 times)

Fniff

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Re: Godhood VIII: Quills and Mythology - IC Thread
« Reply #15 on: October 02, 2013, 08:43:50 pm »

"Ah, yes." said a voice, not quite in the vicinity. With it came the smell of dust, swirling around. "May the blessings of peace and the earth follow you. We may possess the same blood, but of all things that walk upon the two worlds the same blood flows: all are brothers and sisters. We are not from the same mother, however: you do not possess a vigil. What you do with ease, I must consider. I speak as if you are a well-known sibling, but really I am not quite sure of your history and intentions. I know your actions, but a hunter knows that actions are not the defining feature of a character. What is the difference between a hunter and a killer, if such is the case? But that is all semantics. Your offer of alliance would be accepted in most circumstances, but the corruption has taken a toll upon me. The spirits are a wily creature, wanting to escape into the living world as it has not shed it's fear of death. I must hunt them, even with the help of my sirens, and a constant vigil is needed. With the corruption, the spirits grow bolder. I am afraid unless you can prove that you can reduce my workload, I simply cannot offer you assistance as my duty requires of me a lot. However, I am curious as to your nature. If we are not of the same mother, then surely we share a father. We share a seed, a common nature. As to what that is, perhaps the word 'Kanskian' could mean something to you?"

gman8181

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Re: Godhood VIII: Quills and Mythology - IC Thread
« Reply #16 on: October 02, 2013, 09:35:48 pm »

Softly the reply came, almost as if out of a deep reverie.
Yes... the connection I was referring to is that of our Kanskian blood. Admittedly it may run stronger in you than in I but we share it all the same.

There was a long pause that seemed to betray a genuine lack of proper words before Ode continued.
My nature is, in truth a mystery to myself as much as to any other. I am in a sense, new to this world, a younger sibling to yourself. The same acts that led to your ascension are what made me what I am now. Although I feel older, I do not remember... And it is irrelevant now I suppose.

To the point, our loads are at least momentarily mutual. That is the very essence of the issue I bring to you. Have we not both been assaulted in a way by these foreign beings? Your... sirens have been tampered with by one. Another has attempted to break the peace I strive for on the island by disturbing the resting dead and forming them into an army. Whoever controls these beings has let them loose on our world with far too long a leash, if any at all. Although I don't yet hold it against their master, I am also not willing to let this continue.

I apologize... again I am perhaps being too vague on what exactly I want. My proposal is simple. We both have human worshipers on this island that are fighting one another. Both of us shall order our respective followers to cease this pointless conflict and to instead focus on routing out the other rising threats. You need not stop the hunting of your spirits and neither of us will have to continue losing potential assets on a war without gain.

Even more specifically, I shall tell my followers that you are a god of natural balance and order. That you are the god that aids in keeping the dead where they belong. In return, I ask you to tell your own something similar. Perhaps that I am a god of lawful order seeking to bring unity and peace to our continent. Theoretically, we both gain and neither loses.
« Last Edit: October 02, 2013, 09:52:24 pm by gman8181 »
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ragnarok97071

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Re: Godhood VIII: Quills and Mythology - IC Thread
« Reply #17 on: October 03, 2013, 12:13:18 pm »

Good, Good... This would be a good start. The board was set, the pieces in place... so all he has to do now is watch, wait... and perhaps nudge a few people in the right direction.

To each of the apprentices, a vision would be given. Each would be granted knowledge, knowledge of a brand of magic all their own. There were only four, and so he would break down these powers very broadly.

To the first disciple, he grants the power of Sorcery, the power of instant gratification, shaped by willpower and energy into whatever the Socerer desires, bound only by their own imagination and ingenuity.

To the second disciple, he grants the power of Magecraft, of formulae and symbols, of arcane words and powerful incantations, and of secret rituals practiced in the dead of night.

To the Third disciple, he grants the power of Artifice, of creation, of the manufacture of powerful objects, for harm or healing or practical purposes equally well suited.

And to the final disciple, he gives what could possibly be the greatest gift of all. For to this disciple he grants the power of Awakening. This Disciple would have the power to See magic itself, to know by dint of nature the powers of those around him. And, in time, with practice, he would be able to control this power, intimately familiar with the flows of magic, able to control or even halt the spells of others, able to control the magic itself which others shape through willpower or structure.

Magnus blesses the Disciples with arcane knowledge.
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Ghazkull

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Re: Godhood VIII: Quills and Mythology - IC Thread
« Reply #18 on: October 06, 2013, 04:29:34 pm »

Thousands of Weapons discarded as useless. A Veritable Myriad of them. If Lessi wouldn't be spitting ashes it would gleam silver.

Yet Wieland was unhappy. So many failures. No perfect thing created. He made to work on a shield. On it the whole world. It was a beautiful shield. Made from the finest metal, carefully worked...all that missed was the engraving of the World. He carved in Lessi and stopped.

Wieland had no idea what was beyond. He stopped. And discarded yet another product of his skill.
For the first time since decades he stood up to his full height. And even though he was a god his back grated and he felt old...so very old.

With massive leaps he left the Volcanoe,dying without the power of the god keeping it running, in his wake and soon enough arrived at the sea. Carefully Wieland treaded through this unkown territory. He took first a small step and the water vanished, evaporating into steam, and instead the sea floor rose upwards to meet his feet.

Another step and more land rose to greet him. so he walked over the sea, behind him the land rising from the sea and forming large swathes of fertile land. He rested three times on his Journey and where Wieland sat down the land rose to the heigh of a mountain and formed a seat where he could rest.
Finally he arrived in Testonea and the steam came back down as rain.

Wieland was now tired and the rain made his back bend. A cape gave some meagre protection from the weather.


____________________________________

It was pouring. A bad sign. And Lessi had stopped smoking, an even worse sign. It meant the Smith was angry and stopped working. That meant bad luck. Grey knew all about it. for many years he had walked on the slopes of Lessi and gathered swords and shields. The Job of a Sword Gatherer was a dangerous one, the Smith didn't care where his creations came down and many a fellow gatherer died pierced by a spear or beheaded by a shield. Not so Grey he had survived many years and considered himself lucky. Because he observed the signs.

When the King called for war he answered and fought. In the end he settled down in these new lands as a fisher. Yet he stayed close to the Norhtern coast so he could always see Lessi. Now something seemed to block the view. That meant no good was afoot. He put another piece of wood into his hearth forcing the flame to stay alive. Grey huddled closer to it.

A Loud bashing sound at his door almost caused him to fall of his chair. What in the name of the Smith was that? A Boar trying to bash his door in? He carefully approached it. A gain the loud bashing sound. One of the Boards splintered.

"Wh-Who-Who's there?"

A deep resounding voice answered.

A Lone Wanderer.

the voice was deep and sounded old.

"i don't take kindly to strangers!"

It's raining outside and it's cold.

" I don't care! Get away i am armed. I'll gut you like a fish!"

His voice was fearful but his threat true. Grey still had one of the wonderful weapons of Lessi. They never rusted, they never dulled and they never broke.

Fine. But remember it is a sin to turn away a wanderer in search of shelter.

Grey went back to his Hearth. And suddenly he discovered something strange...his Lessite sword...was rusting. Not only that, all metal implements in his house would fall apart, rust or break in the following days. Everything Metal or Stone he owned would rust, break, weather or otherwise become useless at a far quicker rate than was normal.

The Wanderer however walked on travelling through Testonea searching for a better place to stay.


The Smith abandons Lessi and the Volcanoe slowly becomes inactive again.
The Smith turns into his Wanderer aspect.
When the Wanderer crosses the Sea between Lessi and Testonea the sea either evaporates or recedes and the land rises. At the Three Spots where he takes a break and sits down three Mountains would rise with the peculiar look of a seat or throne. They would be called the "Three Thrones" from now on.
The Wanderer walks the land seeking shelter at night and swaps stories in return for a dry place to sleep and something to eat. People who turn him away will never again be able to use tools of Metal or Stone or own Items of Metal or Stone. Even Shelters of these materials will fall apart if they live in them for some time. There is of course no offensive use to this curse. It is purely personal and only affects the person.



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Shootandrun

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Re: Godhood VIII: Quills and Mythology - IC Thread
« Reply #19 on: October 12, 2013, 01:01:04 pm »

Hakkaros was pleased.

Lessites had grown. Testones had proven to be worthy of the Storm King's favor. Where there once had been a city, there stood a kingdom, and if it was allowed to grow further, it would become an empire. The god of war had no doubt that it would not last - as soon as someone other than its ruler got the Sword, or as other gods intervened, Lessites' might would falter. It did not matter. No nation, however powerful, was eternal - and in the chaos that would follow its fall, war would once again ravage the land. Until such things happened, Testones could be trusted to serve the interests of the Red Wolf.

What annoyed him was the situation in the three cities where he had been born. Karestria had grown to be the strongest of the nations in the south, but it could not win against Heleph and Nessaiie on its own. The Nessaiians' new regime pleased him, to be sure - but it was also something that threatened his plans for that region. An annoyance at best, of course, but annoyances were what ended wars, when there were enough of them.

Daemos had failed in his conquest, but only because overwhelming forces had been amassed against him. Hakkaros could forgive him for that, although his patience was growing short. He had to break the pathetic equilibrium between the three cities, lest they fight on for several more centuries. Karestria had established its superiority, but an alliance of the two weaker ones kept it in check. It infuriated him.

He came to Karestria during a storm night, as he had done years ago, and he visited the minds of men. He picked the seven most charismatic and well-loved amongst them, and he filled their minds with his worship. He told them in their dreams to convert all those that they met to his faith, although he also instructed them to merely make him into an addition to Delatheia's pantheon, not a replacement.

Afterwards, he invested a new power in those men. Their faith would give them a desire for war like they had never felt before - a desire to honor their new god. Although it would not make them truly stronger, it would allow them to better exploit their potential and to train with more ease, and - most of all - it would dull the pain that they felt and the fear that could shake them, making them into truly fierce warriors.

Those seven men were the first Berserkers, and the rush during which they would spread their faith in Karestria during the following months and years would be called the Whirlwind.

Only one more thing remained to do. Starting during that night and continuing without stop, the Storm Sword started whispering to him with more strength, placing in the minds of their wielders the plans of a god. They stroked egos and spoke of personal greatness and ambition - but in the end they merely acted as the arms through which the one true Storm King could move his pawns.

Hakkaros converts the seven most charismatic men of Karestria to his faith, and encourages them to spread his religion throughout the city. They are instructed to merely add Hakkaros to the faith of Delatheia instead of replacing her, in order to be more easily welcomed by the inhabitants. One Essence.

Hakkaros also makes these seven men into the first Berserkers. As they spread their faith, those who join the religion with enough zeal also become Berserkers, and have much higher chances of joining the army, thus allowing Karestria's armies to grow faster than either Nessaiie or Heleph. This phenomenon, combined with the spreading of Hakkaros' faith, is named the Whirlwind. One Essence.


Spoiler: Berserkers (click to show/hide)

During that time, the Storm Swords start encouraging their wielders to add Hakkaros to their city's pantheon, citing the apparition of the berserkers as an advantage that must be used. Daemos is also told to add the faith of Radiant Sarthisyn to that of his people's, in order to better assimilate the populace of Heleph and Nessaiie should he win the coming war.
((No essence for that one; the swords are only suggesting, however heavily.))
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vagel7

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Re: Godhood VIII: Quills and Mythology - IC Thread
« Reply #20 on: October 13, 2013, 12:23:53 pm »

Yahkuz was most displeased that three of his liches had been ensalved by some magic wielder. However one had done well, deposed the king of Heleph and claimed the city as it's own. Yahkuz now had a better foothold in the world of the living. Still, this was not enough!

Yahkuz walked to a strategical map of the living world and on it he could see the world as it was above, with the she, rainy storms and cities. He took great note of Lessites, Nessaiie and Heleph. One of the cities was already under his banner, Lessites was under the god of war and Nessaiie was weakened. Between two gods. He would send one of his liches to covertly gather support for himself in the city of Nessaiie and contact Hakkaros, the god of war to offer an alliance.

Yahkuz took a seat on his throne and reached out to the cosmos in search of Hakkaros.

"Hakkaros! I am Yahkuz, the king of the underworld! It seems that our goals are similar and as such I propose an alliance between us. We will not harm each other and we shall split what we conquer. As I speak one of my agents is working to gather support for me within the city of Nessaiie. Together we can accomplish much, please consider my proposal with great thought."

Yahkuz contacts with Hakkaros

Yahkuz sends one of his prophets to covertly gather support for himself within the city of Nessaiie.

Ka'er-thul prepares Heleph for war.
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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!

Shootandrun

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Re: Godhood VIII: Quills and Mythology - IC Thread
« Reply #21 on: October 13, 2013, 12:56:38 pm »

Less than a minute after Yahkuz sent his message, a reply came. The words it carried resounded through the god of afterlife's halls, carrying a dark energy with them - harsh and aggressive, bringing thoughts of fury and hatred. The sound itself was like that of thunder, and it carried enough strength that any mortal fated to ear them would have winced and moaned in pain. It was the voice of Hakkaros - and the god of war did not speak kindly.

"Though to fools our goals may seem similar, they are in truth as close as night is to day. You seek to conquer and to bend mortals to your will, to meddle with fate and to replace worship with servitude! You seek to reign through pawns and emissaries, to rob of their freedom those who would rise against the tyrants you put on thrones were it not for your divine intervention, and yet your domination is as sterile as your domain, and your victories are as empty as the souls of those whom you call your prophets, for with each and every one of your moves you make more enemies.

I am he who frees mortals of their laws, who allows the strong to unleash their potential, who strives in chaos and blood. Your actions name you my antithesis, for you desire only to control all that you touch - and despite all this, you seek an alliance with me?"


An horrible sound echoed through the throne room, similar to the rumbling collapse of a tower and the mad fury of a powerful storm. Hakkaros was laughing.

"So long as you continue to stop mortals from reaching their potential, I will stand against you. Between us, god of puppeteers, there shall be no alliance. There shall be no peace."

The message ended.
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vagel7

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Re: Godhood VIII: Quills and Mythology - IC Thread
« Reply #22 on: October 13, 2013, 01:40:39 pm »

Yahkuz stayed calm despite of this foolish god's very insulting reply.

"With war comes death, even a fool can see that! You support eternal chaos, very well. But in total anarchy there will once more rise people of power, those who rule over others. Can you not see, that there will never be a lawless state without your divine intervention? Your domain is war and mine is death, can you not see that we are two sides of the same coin?"
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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!

Shootandrun

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Re: Godhood VIII: Quills and Mythology - IC Thread
« Reply #23 on: October 13, 2013, 02:23:04 pm »

The voice returned, and its tone was lower now, sterner. What had been thunder was now a growl, slower and less exuberant, and at the same time much more threatening. There was still a sarcastic accent upon it that indicated Hakkaros was mocking Yahkuz.

"All men die, puppeteer, whether on the field of battle or in a bed at a venerable age. A death by a sword is no different, in the end, than one by a cough - and that is why you are no more my counterpart than any other god. Through war, empires rise - and through war, empires fall. Though I thrive in chaos, I do not fight for it - I fight for potential. Where I go, the strongest fighters and the sharpest generals rise and take command of fate, and where I go, those who have endured too long for their sake and that of others fall. Though some mortals may be too talented or too stubborn to be killed through war, in the end, even the greatest of kings either dies or ascends.

That is why we are different, Yakhuz. I am change; I am evolution; I am the fire that cleanses the old so that the new may grow and strive. The control you seek is against my very nature, for should you succeed, no mortal would ever rise above the undying slaves you seek to put upon the thrones of men, and in the end the world would stagnate, and in that stagnation it would rot. Do not make the mistake to believe we are alike, puppeteer. In the end, you are everything I despise. Do not disturb me again, Arrogant One."


The voice faded, and the second message ended.
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gman8181

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Re: Godhood VIII: Quills and Mythology - IC Thread
« Reply #24 on: October 17, 2013, 02:15:33 pm »

Unity had been achieved for the Asteneii people but not without a great cost in life. From a purely economic standpoint, this bothered the god Ode for it was unnecessary and would have been avoided if not for the interloping undead that seemed to be freely roaming about. The newly formed council of tribal leaders had met and called out for the dark art of necromancy to be forbidden as it has been practiced. This incidentally coincided rather well with the scheming one’s plans. The Asteneii’s newly blossomed hatred for necromancy could potentially be put to use in order to hunt down opposition to Ode in the land.

The Voice of Ode stirred from slumber, hearing the will of its master. In turn, it called out to the tribal leaders and had them gather before it in council.
   “You, the greatest of the Asteneii have wisely decreed the art of Necromancy to be forbidden after vanquishing the false prophet of death. Alas in turmoilous times such as these, mere decrees are rarely enough standing alone. Necromancy is a dangerous art and uncontrolled, a threat to our new empire. It is only appropriate that more concrete action is taken now that the initiative lies in our own hands. Gather the greatest of your soldiers, the most loyal and brave children of Asteneii. Bring them to me so that they may be forged into the greatest tool of our nation. These brave souls shall be the Enforcers. It is by their blood and sweat we will all flourish. Our enemies will be sought out and put to the stake. No longer will these treacherous heretics lurk within our borders while mocking us. They cannot be allowed to disrupt our peace and unity any longer.”

While the Voice worked, Ode itself turned towards another. A new king by the name Malbran had founded a great city and was gathering many to his banner. Atop his head, there was a crown of great power and unfamiliar workings that made mortals flock towards him. His influence was somewhat threatening but with subtle workings, it was perhaps possible to put this mortal to a use that benefited Ode while simultaneously keeping him from interfering with the Asteneii.

Malbran sweated feverishly in nightmares of death and turmoil. His crown was missing and could not be found. The people who once worshipped him were likewise gone and he was alone. Pacing anxiously atop his tower he heard a distant cackling and smelt a pungent rot riding the wind. When he went to his window, he stared dumbfounded across what was once his kingdom and saw instead a land of undeath. Skeletons and zombies marched, burned and pillaged. Other grotesque creatures chased or stalked the living and feasted rabidly upon their corpses. A foreboding undead figure sat atop a decaying horse and upon its head rested the Great Crown. Tilting its head slowly it spoke words that despite the distance, reached Malbran with a startling clarity.
   “Your crown is mine… Your empire is mine… and soon your soul shall be mine as well.”

Reeling away from the window Malbran was startled to find another figure standing beside him. A kindly old man leaning on a withered cane and exuding an almost fatherly aura looked sympathetically towards the king.
   “Do not worry child. This event has not yet come to pass.”
The bewildered king shook his head confusedly.
   “Yet? So this is a dream of the future?”
Sadly looking away, the old man was silent for a moment before responding.
   “It is… a possible future. If the undead are allowed to continue gaining power in this world, then it is only a matter of time before everything is part of their kingdom… The world will become a realm of the dead, similar to the underworld… and the living… they will have no place here anymore… This vision is not without purpose King. Take action now and this premonition may not come to pass. You must use your great gifts to save this world both for yourself and for others. Also, look for allies in your quest. While you are undoubtedly great beyond reckoning, this task should not be undertaken alone while there are others willing to cooperate with you against the undead menace.”

Gather the best and most loyal warriors of Asteneii. Use my power to gift them with the ability to resist hostile magics while robbing them of the ability to use magic (unless they give up the gift). These soldiers will be able to train others to resist magic as well but will only do so if the people join their order first. An additional side effect of cutting them off from magic is that they slowly become dulled to most emotions, making them very good soldiers willing to do just about anything that is needed of them. They shall be known as the "Enforcers" and will serve as the elites and the commanders of the Asteneii forces. The entire order is extremely loyal to Ode.

The Enforcers should be equipped with the best available to the Asteneii. Their features are concealed and they generally wear grey cloaks over their armor.

Send a vision to Malbran attempting to make him fear the undead and commit all his time and resources to rooting them out.
« Last Edit: October 17, 2013, 02:20:48 pm by gman8181 »
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Harbingerjm

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Re: Godhood VIII: Quills and Mythology - IC Thread
« Reply #25 on: October 18, 2013, 04:31:25 pm »

Radiant Sarthisyn was displeased. It had made the Purifying Flame available to the world, and yet the only one that could use it properly was also relying on other magic, and an entire city-state of "believers" had been rendered powerless by a single puppet, without even a true will. It decided that if the flame needed fuel, it would have to provide it, and after considering and discarding a number of possibilities, it had an idea as to how to go about it.
Trailing the edge of night across the world, falling embers light up the dark. Where they touch flesh, wood, stone or metal, they burn out instantaneously, leaving nothing but a moment's warmth, but where they land on bare dirt, they glow for a while, and form the seeds of a whole new kind of flame.
Beautiful trees grow from the embers, marked with the eyes, colours and flames of Radiant Sarthisyn. Those who dare to use their wood will find it possesses many unique properties, that leave no doubt as to their creator.

Radiant Sarthisyn creates a new type of tree, marked with eye patterns and varying through Radiant Sarthisyn's colours. The wood from the trees has a number of useful properties for mortals to discover.
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Azthor

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Re: Godhood VIII: Quills and Mythology - IC Thread
« Reply #26 on: October 27, 2013, 08:02:52 am »

Spoiler: Revoked (click to show/hide)
« Last Edit: October 30, 2013, 10:32:34 pm by Azthor »
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Fniff

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Re: Godhood VIII: Quills and Mythology - IC Thread
« Reply #27 on: October 27, 2013, 09:25:42 am »

Before the conversation went quiet, the voice said, with an audible smile,

"Well, my brother, that is indeed a much better proposition then I suspected the original intent was! I was suspecting perhaps a crusade upon those that threaten us that I have neither the effort nor the inclination to do. As Kanskians before us realized, unjustly spilt blood will make the Earth twisted and evil as it stains itself into the ground, and a crusade is not justified. A collaboration, however, would be indeed much better." The voice began to fade. "Ah, but my work calls to me, dear brother, so I am afraid the discussion is adjourned. Your suggestions shall be taken on board, no doubt!"

And finally, nothing was left but the vague smell of damp.
*
Nambe left the discussion feeling bright and uplifted, but that was crushed rather quickly by the conundrum of the Banshee. On her own, she was simply a nuisance. Slipping between worlds, a corrupted version of his sirens that was practically an insult to him, but really what could you do? Certain problems in the world will hound humanity until the day the sun sets and never comes back up. However, the Banshee did something very very bad.

She ripped holes in the realities. The spirit world and the world of flesh generally don't have connecting points. While Nambe carefully slipped out through the natural gaps in reality in both the spirit and mortal worlds (They were quiet, dark places that often let things in. Most worlds have them, like how a cube has corners or a castle has structural weak points), the Banshee sliced and diced her way out of the reality without considering what that could do to the reality. And what it could do was very, very bad. Really, it wasn't her fault: getting in-between realities was very difficult. Solutions offered themselves to Nambe. She could be captured, but then again anyone who could rip holes in reality wouldn't be held back by conventional means. She could be converted to Nambe's side using his powers, but that was going to be unreliable at best. He didn't know the Banshee truly. She could be a very good liar, even going so far as to trick Nambe if he tried to read her mind. She could be killed, but Nambe felt this went against everything that he and his tribe stood for. If the Kanskians killed, they would be no better then the... He decided to play it by ear.

The tear didn't float, didn't hover, didn't do anything. It just existed. Approaching it, Nambe felt a deep sense of wrongness. Despite what you may think, it wasn't even visible. The only way to detect it would be the feeling. He slipped through worlds and went out the other side, to reality. Surprisingly, the tear led to the steppes: where his tribe lay once. He tried to not let the memory cloud his judgement, so he looked around the area as he walked. No life was around... apart from a single solitary human spirit. It went toward the north. Spirits take many forms, and this one was like a glowing wind, a spectrum of colors flying through the air.

Nambe went to the tall grass and snuck through it (Like so many times before), stalking the wayward spirit. He took out his bow, then drew it all the way back. This had been his father's bow, he remembered, and it had been in his family since the first dawn. In truth, it lay beside his corpse at the bottom of the swamp, but he still possessed it here. He let the finely tightened string go, and the arrow hit the spirit's trail. It fell to the ground and almost dissipated, but Nambe grasped it and kept it together before it fell apart.
(nonoplease please home gonna go home no stopit)

Spirits didn't speak. Even human ones simply expressed thoughts, which were neither sounds, images or words. Of course, conveying this in the form I am speaking to you in now would be rather a bother, so do accept my translation even if it is inaccurate.

"Hush now, spirit." said Nambe. "You have two options. You may return to the spirit world and reincarnate..."

(notgoingbacknotgoingbackNOTGOINGBACK)

Nambe kept a groan from escaping his throat. When spirits were scared, you felt it as well, and it hurt. "I can see that. The second option is that you remain here and experience the world with all your memories."

(whats the catch)

"You work for me." said Nambe. "Directly. Don't worry, I'm not as terrible as you may think."

The spirit was silent.

(okay)

Nambe nodded. He felt the tear growing bigger, and knew that soon bad things would happen around it. Best to contain it while he still could.

Nambe creates the Watchtowers.
Spoiler: Watchtowers (click to show/hide)
The Void is a tear in reality on the Kanskian's homelands created by the Banshee. It is a tear between the Spirit world and our reality, but it could also lead to others. It perverts the natural order of things, allows the laws of physics in the area to be broken, and occasionally deposits creatures from other dimensions that usually die instantly upon entering, but sometimes survive. Nambe is guarding it.
Nambe orders his followers to cease the fight with Ode and to begin a peace.[/b]

Azthor

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Re: Godhood VIII: Quills and Mythology - IC Thread
« Reply #28 on: October 30, 2013, 07:26:55 pm »

The Morning Lord had once promised Malbran that when His people had been reunited and a great city erected atop the place of His very appearance, then, and only then, He'd once more appear before him and make His will, and with it, their purpose, known. Though never particularly fond of fulfilling pacts honored with mortals, the Archspawn, bound as He had been (not that any could tell), fully intended to once more impose his dark will upon the canvas of creation, through whichever means were available, denigrating as they may be, for however long they may take. If what it took to lead these mortals to their damnation, and dare he hope, retake His place, indulging His faithfuls's fickle expectations was but a meager price to pay. And so did Malbran make a second appearance, manifesting besides Malbran in private as he paid his late night prayers to Him amidst the silent Grand Temple.

Lord Priest Malbran, or Emperor Malbran, as he would be known, may not have expected his patron's late appearance, though he was certainly no less relieved for it. He had prayed for days upon days, initially as a show of duty, eventually as pleas for guidance, yet it only had been now that His Holy Lord, Galadrin, had deemed it fit for him to receive unto Him. The reason for the delay was one for Malbran, who awaited anxiously for the Morning Lord's return, and another for Galadrin, who had been occupied conceiving another artifact, unlike the Crown, completely benign in its nature, but also considerably more powerful: a large cloaked idol, supposedly in the Morning Lord's image, in white marble; standing 25 feet tall, the statue supports itself on a massive winged axe, sporting a crown bearing clear similitude to the Crown of Command, but in many ways more elaborate, and much more cumbersome. Gracefully, Galadrin addresses the Lord Priest.

"Rise forth, Malbran, My child. You have done well in leading My people through the path I've set you on. They now prosper, united, and Galadres has nigh a match to its splendour. For that much, you are my chosen and favorite, but, though they prosper, they could prosper yet more, as befits My people. Your brothers in faith, Malbran. It is true that dark forces loom on the horizon, ready to lead them astray, and I would say, perhaps, lead you astray, were you alone not allowed the privilege of receiving Me directly, so that you may always return to the righteous path".

"It is, therefore, your duty, as my sole bequeathed, to protect them from those harmful influences, from the deceitful spirits, marauding hordes and false gods that will come. Expand Galadres' glory as you long to, to the north, to the south, to the east, but go no farther than the Vein, for your brothers and sisters are not yet ready for that trial. Bring Galadres' glory to it, hold it, but no more".

"Vigilance must always prevail, and, though, until now, you've only had the forsaken few among my people to worry about, you will need ever vigilant shield and sword for the tidings to come; take the most able and valiant of my children and make of them the zealous arms of you people. Train and equip them solely to that position, so that they serve Galadres where the need for unconditional duty is greatest, where heresy may strike, where others might seek to bring arms against My people, where the rogue elements of nature must be conquered, roads paved and bridges raised. Now go, and know that I remain, always guiding you, go forth and forge the Empire that is your people's destiny".


The great statue appears overnight amidst the temple district, and, therefore, at the city's very centre, standing prominently before the entrance to the opulent Grand Temple of the Morning, both Galadrin's most sacred place of worship and the effective seat of government for the thriving city and would be Empire, an architectural marvel. For as long as the holy city is held by faithful Talassani, or one should say, Galadrian, so shall the Empire prosper, for he statue is, indeed, a vessel for a powerful blessing of prosperity upon its people: since its appearance, harvests across the land seem to have become more and more bountiful, mines started to report unprecedented productivity and once prevalent diseases were reduced to isolated outbreaks.

The Archspawn is, however, momentarily taken by other affairs, as the most bizarre of circumstances are, indeed, witnessed on his home front. A mortal man, and a fairly young one at that, it would seem, fights one of Yahkuz' servants atop His very abode. Even more surprisingly, the mortal seems to have the upper hand, already carrying with him two necklaces the likes of the one the undead bears. For a moment, the shadows seem to grow darker, vast and menacing, as both are struck by an ominous feeling, beset by the enraptured attention of the vilest of presences. His curiosity aroused, and at least somewhat fascinated by the mortal's prowess, the Archspawn elects not to intervene in the battle, opting, instead, to follow the man's future exploits. And it is that the feeling fades, and, though both combatants are left all too confused, their battle soon resumes. 

Following on his promise, Galadrin makes His much-awaited second appearance before Malbran, as he prays in private before His shrine. Blessed for his swift undertaking of his mission in reuniting the Talassani and his role in the founding of Galadres, now the jewel of the world, Malbran is told of the great boon to come. He is instructed to raise a militant arm to the faith and state of Galadres, a standing force whose objective lies wherever heresy or those who'd seek to do Galadres harm may strike. They are also to partake in the maintenance of the would be Empire's infrastructure.

Galadrin bestows a great idol upon his people, supposedly in His image, it depicts a crowned, cloaked figure, wielding a massive winged axe, much more a symbol of office than anything resembling a weapon. The statue is blessed as to bring unprecedented prosperity to the Galadrians, enhancing productivity and fertility across the realm, as though fortune conspired in their favor.

Supported in his expansionary zeal, Malbran is, however, tacitly cautioned against moving across the Vein. His people, soon to enjoy their newfound prosperity, have yet to properly settle the western reaches, where their true birthright lies. Once Galadres is no longer a city-state, but a bustling Empire, then, and only then, will he receive his next mission.

Having witnessed the battle between the Apprentice and Biéme, in his Abode, of all places, the Archspawns chooses to watch the Apprentice's exploits closely, as he is clearly no mere mortal, but something else altogether. If the Archspawn will act on his observations, only time will tell.
« Last Edit: November 04, 2013, 10:52:32 am by Azthor »
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Caesar

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Re: Godhood VIII: Quills and Mythology - IC Thread
« Reply #29 on: November 06, 2013, 01:04:14 pm »

Ode and Nambe forge an alliance.

Magnus blesses Adagnites' disciples with knowledge of four arcane paths: Sorcery, Magecraft, Artifice and Awakening.
Spoiler: Schools of the Arcane (click to show/hide)

Wieland abandons Lessi and leaves the vulcano slowly growing inactive in his wake.
Wieland assumes his Wanderer aspect.
Wieland crosses the sea between Lessi and Testonea, leaving an extremely thin strip of fertile land between the two islands, dotted by three mountains reminiscent of thrones.
Wieland walks the land seeking shelter at night and swapping stories in return for a dry place to sleep and something to eat. People who turn him away are cursed.
Spoiler (click to show/hide)

Hakkaros converts the seven most charismatic men of Karestria to his faith.
Hakkaros creates the berserker's blessing and makes these chosen seven the first berserkers.
Spoiler: Hakkaros' Berserkers (click to show/hide)
Hakkaros encourages the first seven berserkers to spread his religion by adding him to Karestria's pantheon, next to Delatheia.
Hakkaros instructs the two wielders of the Storm Swords through their swords that they should add Hakkaros to their city's pantheon.
Hakkaros instructs Daemos, king of Karestria, to add the faith of Radiant Sarthisyn to that of his people.

Yahkuz offers Hakkaros an alliance, which Hakkaros refuses.

Yahkuz sends one of his prophets to covertly gather support within the city of Nessaiie.
Yahkuz instructs Ka'er-thul to prepare Heleph for war.

Ode gathers the best and most loyal warriors of Astineii and makes them his Enforcers.
Spoiler: Ode's Enforcers (click to show/hide)
Ode sends a vision to Malbran in an attempt to make him fear the undead.

Radiant Sarthisyn creates a new type of tree, marked with eye patterns and varying through Radiant Sarthisyn's colors. The wood has multiple unique properties which mortals can discover.

Nambe creates the Watchtowers.
Spoiler: Watchtowers (click to show/hide)
Nambe orders his followers in Keluss to try and negotiate peace with the Astineiian tribes.

The Archspawn, under the guise of Galadrin, bestows a great idol upon his people, supposedly in his image.
Spoiler: Galadrin's idol (click to show/hide)
The Archspawn, under the guise of Galadrin, appears to Malbran and instructs him to raise a militant arm to the faith and state of Galadres to uproot and destroy heresy and those who could do Galadres harm.
The Archspawn, under the guise of Galadrin, cautions Malbran against cross the Vein, and first properly settle the western reaches, settling an empire.
The Archspawn devotes his attention to watching the Apprentice's exploits closely.





It was my son, born to a mortal father, who grew into the wisest of his kin. He grew old, but not weary, and would wander between the many peoples of my world, spreading knowledge, spreading wisdom, and I found great pleasure in the thought that he had achieved so much by his own power. He had never known me, but my flame burned inside him like a beautiful reflection of Yilmz' light. Oh, so do I dream of his father, a man now beyond the world of the living, whose love I once enjoyed. Oh, so do I yearn to relive that one time I met my son, that I played his own game and got utterly beaten. Yes! He bested the gods in his game, and beyond even that, he bested me. Is it not ironic that the goddess most like her imperfect mortal kin gives birth to a mortal of such perfection?

~Kinaré


Turn Two: Schemes


A book closed, its final chapter written, and the Keeper caressed the cover with care. It was leatherbound, and decorated with the image of a crown adorned by long, high spires. 'Malbran', the cover read. The Keeper walked slowly across the hallways, spending a moment's thought on their emptiness, on the apprentice it had taught by its master's decree. It had motivated him with a mission, given him knowledge, showed him truth and guided him to a wisdom beyond that of his peers. Then, when it had finally been time for his student to embark on this mission, it was with regret that it had taken away knowledge of the library, of its very own being and of this 'mission'. The Keeper had taken its apprentice in its arms, taking him up, beyond the waves, and laying him to rest on the beaches of Remestes. At that moment, now years ago, it had stared in amazement at the unconscious body of its disciple, wondering what would become of him. It had felt proud of the skill and knowledge the young man possessed. The Keeper took another turn, and seated itself behind a desk. It turned to the next chapter, and began to read, thirsty for knowledge of its pupil.

"Of Immortal and Man

Time, while so fluid in my library, crawled by without cease in the world of men and women. Like an unstoppable force, it moved from one moment to the next, dragging everything with it. As everything came, so did everything came to pass, except for history, which was forever sealed. 'Ahead lays the possible, with me the tangible, and behind me the unchangeable.' Wise words, from a wise man. They were the words of Adagnites', founder of the school of the Arcane in Remestes, as he held the blade twisted between his ribs that would spell the end of his story. The future, he knew, was uncertain, but that moment, his blood, and everything he had done, would carry on into this future, whatever it would be. Four disciples, he had had, and four murderers, he found himself surrounded by. Adagnites died because his disciples were afraid of him, because they detested him, and most of all, because they no longer needed him. Their god had gifted them the knowledge they had fought so long to possess, and with the power of the arcane, their ambitions became reality.

The naive king of Remestes surrendered in fear to these four mages, and they declared that filth, like the king, like all those without the power of the arcane, were not worthy of being called citizens of Remestes, the seat of the world's learning. They, as the four most powerful, would rule wisely over the city, and their kin of magical blood would do so with them. The animals, as they referred to the magically inept that had once considered them equals, were to perform tasks fit for animals only. And so it was that a minority came to possess great might over the majority, not by right to rule, but through fear. This, however, did not please the newly born Arcane Council, and they started looking beyond Remestes.

And beyond Remestes lay Lessites, with their king Testones. This king, still in his early years, had found that the two cities of his young kingdom had been connected by his god, who had walked a straight path across the unruly seas. This strip of land, on which three majestic mountains rose, would serve as a testimony of the divine right and power of his nation. More than that, it would truly serve his people. For, so he reasoned, a kingdom was beyond the scope of the city-state Lessites had once been, and for him to be able to aptly rule both cities as well as expand into the rest of the world, he had to make whole that which was now but a collection of parts. With a genius of his own instead of that of the artifact sword he wielded, he called the best architects of his court to his aid, and he ordered the construction of a road straight between the two cities, across this strip of land. As his people toiled against the weather and years passed, even the mountains would have to yield for the infrastructure of his kingdom, and when the last stone was laid, he had started to grow his first grey hairs.

The road between Lessites and Testonea was so sturdy, so efficiently laid, that it took his chariot but a week to cross between the islands, and he was welcomed as a triumphant general. Yet the once young king found little pleasure in his greatest achievement, remembering what Lightning, the sword that so faithfully hung by his side, had told him years ago. Hakkaros, the Lord of War, had demanded that Testones would add this deity to the pantheon of his city. Testones, at the time, had decided to wait and see what time would bring. Now, years later, he had made his decision. During a night of turmoil and storm, he kneeled in Wieland's temple in Lessites, the same temple where he had once decreed that inhospitability was a sin punishable by death, and prayed. It was not to his god, but to Hakkaros, that his words went. "Not directly for you, but to further the strength of my people, would I conquer the world if I could. Not to prove my power, nor to suppress, but in the name of strive and strength would I wage war. I see the art, and with your help, I have planned many years ahead, have grown into a strong leader and general. Yet your request, I must refuse. I do not demand easy victories, nor do I pray for weapons that can not be destroyed, Lord of War, but I do pray for the obstacle that has to be conquered. How can I conquer, if there is nothing to be conquered? Hakkaros, before my conquest makes sense, and I can pass my strength of heart and wits on, as I believe is your true intent, I need an heir. Yet no woman worthy to be conquered has shown herself, no woman worthy to bear my children has presented herself. Hakkaros, do not give me a victory, but an opportunity to emerge victorious, and I shall spread your word and wage the war this world needs." With these words, the king got to his feet, and left the darkness of the temple behind him.

Daemos had heard Hakkaros' words, and he had spoken. More and more berserkers joined his army in Hakkaros' name, and with them, they brought even more enthusiasm. It was during the annual celebration of Delatheia's marriage to Hakkaros that Daemos thought back of the doubt his people had felt after their defeat, as they pondered Delatheia's inactivity and wondered whether their goddess had abandoned them. Then, she brought home her spouse, her ally, the god of war, and they knew that Delatheia had looked out for her people, and that Karestria was destined to do great things. Now, Daemos had grown older. His hair was grey, and his body was sometimes beset by a crippling cough. Despite this, he had bested even some of the strongest berserkers in personal battle, and he had trained Karestria's armies into a disciplined and cohesive force. He knew that Heleph and Nessaiie had done the same, and that they were without doubt preparing for war all the same, but Daemos knew that a good warrior's true wife was patience. Glory was a small thing, a thing that could fade, but victories could not, for a victor held power. The king of Karestria had forsaken glory in favor of victory, and he knew that the time to strike was close.

A messenger entered his throne room, and Daemos snapped out of his thoughts, turning around slowly. According to the apparel, this was a Helephian. They had been responsible for the needless defeat near Nessaiie, and most Karestrians hated them and their goddess, as well as their undead overlord. This man was one of Ka'er-Thul's personal servants, and the message he had carried to the king was no less than insulting. "Daemos of Karestria, surrender your people and your lands to the might of Ka'er-Thul, or face extinction. Ka'er-Thul is willing to be lenient, but your execution will be in public, so that Yahkuz may personally claim your soul for punishment, as you violated his divine will." Daemos, in response, drew his sword. "Let me see whether the words of your master are as strong as your sword arm." The fight lasted several minutes, and Daemos finished his opponent by chopping off his left hand. Ordering the wound cauterized, he sent him out of his court with the following words: "Return to your master, puppet, and tell him that Karestria is waiting."

With a howl the Hounds of War jumped aboard the Helephian escort. The vessel had been protecting a merchant ship on its way to Keluss, where it would unload its wares of exotic skins in exchange for raw bog iron. The council of Nessaiie realized that Heleph had acted in self-interest when it saved the city-state from impending destruction, and that the war was one between three opposing factions, not two. This trade route, vital to Heleph's material supplies, had now become a primary target and training ground for Nessaiie's finest. Born and raised for war, these warriors were the elite of Nessaiie's warrior class, devoted so strongly to Hakkaros that they learned to shrug off pain and endured the most demanding of training regimes to perfect themselves in the art of war. Each of them was accompanied by a Nessaiian Mastiff, raised and bred to be the finest war-dogs in the region. These animals and their masters did not fight in a formation, instead acting as shock troops to break those of others. Naturally, they performed extremely well when fighting man to man, and best in a charge.

They painted the Helephian vessel red with blood, striking down its detachment of soldiers with relative ease. Of course some berserkers did die – but there was no greater honour than to die in battle by sword or spear. The merchants surrendered, but the Nessaiians showed no mercy. With several strong strokes of their sailors, their vessel set ramming course on the merchant vessel's side. With a crack as strong as thunder, the mounted ram made quick work of the vessel and it shattered in two, merchandise and crew spilling into the water. The Hounds of War howled in victory, their four-footed allies joining in. As their enemies cried for mercy; as they cried to be saved from the waves, the Nessaiians tied the conquered escort vessel to their own, and sailed off with their trophy. If it would be up to the Nessaiians, the Helephians and their new rotting overlords would find themselves at the bottom of the mighty oceans, and the Karestrians would soon follow suit.

In contrast to the eternal feud across the seas, two peoples managed to set aside their ancient differences and drew a line. Where swamp and marshes ended and steppes began, so did Keluss desist on its claim over Hiate. Where horses could barely tread, there the Astineiians turned around to return to their lands. Inspired by the words of their gods, these two peoples had seen sense in peace, knowing that their enemy lived across the mountains. They traded the goods they had once sought to gain through war, and, even to their own surprise, found that they prospered. Eventually, their armies began practicing together to form into a cohesive fighting force where Keluss provided the infantry and Astinos the cavalry. After much deliberation, they decided to send out spies to the west, and they learned of the developments of the Talassani. The Enforcers guarded the borders of these two now allied nations closely, and as Astinos slowly recovered from its years of internal war, Keluss started constructing buildings of the most beautifully colored wood, which had started growing in the marshes. Even though they praised the sturdiness of the wood and the beauty of its colors, some wondered where it had come from, and whether there was a meaning behind its appearance. Few knew that, in reality, they were the creation of Radiant Sarthisyn.

What was not any god's creation, was the Rittik. The Rittik, a creature born from the shadows of the spirit world, had escaped through the tear in realities left behind by the Banshee, and it now roamed the steppes of Hiate, where it preyed on the beautiful. Truly a perversion of beauty, the creature went by many faces, different for each beholder, but always an object of their love. Instead of eyes, two dark sockets stared back at its victims as it ripped them apart with mandibles and claws. Besides its face, it was covered in chitin and like its smaller insect kin bore countless limbs and appendages. It fed on the faces of its victims, ravaging their beauty to leave behind a gruesome mask of gore. Unlike one would expect of a creature of its kind, there was no further ritual, no further interaction with its prey but the kill and the feast. The beast burrowed itself in the grasslands and simply waited for someone of beauty to pass by, no matter how long this would take. When such a person did appear, it would burrow through the ground, producing the 'rittikrittikrittik' after which it was named, and strike swiftly. Most victims did not even see its horrifying face, but those who did were frozen in fear. This fear spread, and the Astineiians and the Kelussian traders alike learned to hate the Rittik.

Umeran, son of Malbran, sat upon his throne in silence. The crown upon his head weighed down on him heavily, but he knew that he would not fail the duty Galadrin had first given Malbran, and now him. Malbran had died in his sleep: After many years of loyal servitude, their lord had finally taken him home. Umeran thought back on Malbran's many accomplishments. After leading the Talassani to greatness and uniting those to the west of the Vein under his divinely just rule, Malbran had founded a second city to the north, where the large river of that area split into two and carried on to the seas. This was a fertile land, and the city had been named after Umeran's mother, Delephia, who had been fertile enough to gift him one talented son. Malbran, in his devout endeavors, had been so strong of will that even the natural world bowed before him, and he had performed many a miracle in Galadrin's name. Despite all the praise and the rumor that Malbran himself was a god, he had continued to spread the word of Galadrin, and of those living to the west of the Vein, few were not a part of the burgeoning empire. Malbran had learned of the barbarians to the East who took his lord's name in vain, and he had raised an order to defend his people and his deity: the Order of the Mace. Given almost complete power to act, this militant order punished heretics and trained to one day lead the Talassian armies against the barbarians. The Lord High Priest was their ultimate commander, and the Morning Lord their source of strength. Despite the horrific acts this order committed against those opposing them, they were completely free of the corruption that usually plagued such military units, and their devotion enabled them to draw on the magic of will that Radiant Sarthisyn had created. With their crested helmets and eventually literally illuminating features, they became like the light their god had given upon them. Umeran sighed, and got to his feet. He too was an intelligent man, but he was still far from being what his father had been. As he left the throneroom and bowed his head respectfully to Galadrin's idol, he gathered a council with the commanding officers of the order.

On the opposite side of this coin of light rested darkness. Heleph, a city once known for its culture, had buckled under Ka'er-Thul. Surrounded by slaves and his chosen servants, the prophet lich-king had turned the city into a well-oiled machine. Uprising was all but forgotten, and to remind its ruler of the underworld, its once white structures had been painted pitch black. The Apprentice stood on top of the city walls. He had scaled those walls and despite the years behind him, still looked like a man in his prime. Some knowledge he had not, but of all mortal men, he knew most, and even that he knew. He descended from the walls, and made his way through the city. His apparell of white cloth and black leather drew the attention of the putrid populace quickly, as did the three amulets he wore around his neck. Standing below the stairs of the palace, he called for his adversary. "Ka'er-Thul, I have come to claim your might. Face me, and become a servant like those you so desperately oppress." The doors opened slowly, and eventually the dreaded king stood above the stairs, wearing the thickest black, hands folded neatly behind his back. "Who dares challenge us? Who dares speak the name of the king of Heleph, of us, the chosen of Yahkuz?" His eyes came to rest on the young man who stood below, and he recognized the trinkets the stranger wore. Truly unlike figures of the epics, he simply started the battle, descending the stairs with a rapid speed in a monstrous rage.

An army marged in as the battle raged on and even the Apprentice with all his knowledge and power could not defeat them. Ka'er-Thul was stronger than his kin, had amassed both material and arcane power, and even so close to freedom, his servants feared him too much to turn against him. For the first time, the Apprentice had made a miscalculation, and despite the fire he wielded, the death he caused, he felt the vile magic of Yahkuz' prophet draining his strength, his health. He withered, and the pain became unbearable. Striking down a spearman, he watched in disgust as necrosis set in on his arms. A sword pierced his back and his lung, and he knew himself bested. Ka'er-Thul laughed victoriously, a sound not unlike the rattling of old bones, and stood over his foe. The Apprentice smiled, closed his eyes, and spoke an incantation."


The Keeper closed the book, knowing the rest of the chapter, knowing where its student had gone and what he would find there. It knew not, however, the future. The future was for the gods to shape, whereas it merely organized its master's records. Blowing out a candle, it went to do its work in the damp darkness of the library.






Adagnites' disciples slay him, depose the king of Remestes and set up the 'Arcane Council'.
Under the Arcane Council, only the magically apt can be considered citizens of Remestes. Those without magical potential are deemed unfit of intellectual pursuit and perform manual or military tasks only.

Testones of Lessites orders the construction of a road crossing the Three Thrones, connecting Lessites and Testonea. The road leads straight through the three mountains.
Testones, entering his mid-thirties, is still without both wife and children, and claims that he will never find love.
Despite urging by Lightning, Testones' Storm Sword, Testones refuses to add Hakkaros to Lessites' pantheon.
Spoiler: Testones' Gambit (click to show/hide)
Testones decrees that, upon witnessing Wieland's curse of the inhospitable, it is not merely a sin, but a crime to refuse a wanderer entry to your home. It is also, however, a crime to overstay one's welcome, and if one stays beyond the welcome of their hosts, it will be punished by flogging and banishment.

Karestria goes through a period of further militarization, recovering quickly from the losses they led after their defeat near Nessaiie.
The Karestrians who had started to doubt Delatheia after her perceived inactivity are rejuvenated in their faith upon hearing the words of the berserkers, convinced that Delatheia had caused this turn of events.
The Karestrians now commonly believe that Delatheia married Hakkaros to form a divine alliance, and the city's temples are rebuilt in their honor and to celebrate this marriage.
The Karestrians refuse to worship Radiant Sarthisyn, believing that she is responsible for the defeat they suffered near Nessaiie at the hands of the Helephian fleet.

Heleph prepares for war under Ka'er-Thul's command.
Ka'er-Thul sends Daemos of Karestria a threat of annihalition, claiming that the armies he will muster will be given divine aid and that he can completely wipe Karestria off the world.
Daemos personally challenges Ka'er-Thul's messenger to a battle to the death, claiming that words must reflect their action.
Daemos easily defeats Ka'er-Thul's messenger, but spares him so that he may tell his master that Karestria will not surrender to Heleph.

Nessaiie raises its own band of berserkers, the 'Hounds of War'.
The Hounds of War repeatedly raid Heleph's trade route to Keluss, disrupting the influx of military supplies and materials.
The people of Nessaiie refuse to support Yahkuz and his prophet, claiming Hakkaros as their only deity.
Spoiler: The Hounds of War (click to show/hide)

Keluss and Astinos form a peace treaty which divides Hiate between these two peoples, with the border between the southern swamplands and the northern steppes defining their borders.
Keluss and Astinos begin to prepare for a possible invasion from the lands west of the Vein, and for the first time in ages, the two peoples trade with each other.
Radiant Sarthisyn's trees find themselves becoming quite common in the lands around Keluss, and the city starts using its wood in multiple constructions, as of yet unaware of its unusual properties.

Nambe's Watchtowers fail to stop a horrible creature from escaping from the Spirit World, and it now roams the steppes of Hiate freely.
Spoiler: The Rittik (click to show/hide)

Under Malbran, the Talassani found a colony further to the north where a river splits into two, and call it Delephia, after Malbran's wife.
Malbran, devoted as he has become to creating a huge empire for his god, finds himself tapping into Radiant Sarthisyn's purifying flame.
Malbran, inspired by tales of Ode's Enforcers and Hakkaros' berserkers, sets up the Order of the Mace.
Spoiler: Order of the Mace (click to show/hide)
Malbran dies of old age, and leaves his crown to his only son, Umeran.

The Apprentice assaults Heleph and attempts to kill Ka'er-Thul. He is, however, wounded and flees the island, taking refuge among the natives on the largest island to the east.
The Apprentice marries one of the natives on the island.


Code: [Select]
(Atilliano) Deletheia: 3 Essence
(Azthor) The Archspawn: 3 Essence
(Fniff) Nambe: 3 Essence
(Ghazkull) Wieland: 3 Essence
(gman8181) Ode: 3 Essence
(Harbingerjm) Radiant Sarthisyn: 2 Essence
(ragnarok97071) Magnus: 3 Essence
(Shootandrun) Hakkaros: 3 Essence
(Vagel7) Yahkuz: 2 Essence
« Last Edit: November 25, 2013, 10:36:48 am by Caesar »
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Spider Overhaul
Adding realistic spiders to Dwarf Fortress. (Discontinued.)

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