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Author Topic: Isle of the Young Gods: Game Thread  (Read 51759 times)

GiglameshDespair

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Re: Isle of the Young Gods: Game Thread
« Reply #300 on: August 09, 2014, 04:37:00 am »

"The goddess Patches gave you two fleshy patches, did she not? I would like one. I intend to visit."
She waited.
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escaped lurker

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Re: Isle of the Young Gods: Game Thread
« Reply #301 on: August 09, 2014, 10:50:26 am »

Auratus was clearly confused, if not dumbfounded – here sat this ancient being in front of him, claiming to have never risen above being a chef in all that long time. A nagging, frightening thought for him. What could ever drive such a creature? Was it only love for its craft? Had it faithfully followed some superior being? Then again, the barbarian gods were not known for their cooperation, and it seemed the former god gave his blessings rather freely. He could not help but ask for more revelation on this matter.

" While I was aware by the fact that your name is, well, not as often mentioned as other, more warmongering gods, that you seem to have other goals in mind than most of us dragons do, I can't help but ask if you are truly complacent with being just a cook? Was it for lack of ambitions on your part that you did not achieve more, was it your circumstances... or are these ambitions of yours actually solely limited to cooking instead? " A being of power, that only used its powers for cooking – while he had tasted the dishes, and could vouch for their far superior quality, the existence of Oinkiny seemed lacking to him. Far too lacking.

At least the dragon was most pleased to hear that the oaf was finally going to help those which would be most apt to worship him. Not that he really liked the god possibly growing in strength, but more for the sake of not doing the task himself. While he had no qualms about using his strength against the orcs, it was a task easily delegated towards and done by others.

" If you truly want to do so, I might be able to arrange for your kitchen. I plan on visiting Kiatown afterwards, and the person I am to visit should be more than able, if not also willing to provide what you would need. Speaking from a logical point of view, the feast would need to be held in at least two shifts, lest all the soldiers are unavailable to do their duty, with restricted access to alcohol for a similar reason. Thinking of the siege, once it would be broken, the festivities that would undoubtedly be held should also call for your expertise. Well, that would be a story for then. Either way, if you agree to it, I will order it to be done, and you should be able to entertain the army come next month. Just give me your agreement and a list of what you would need. "

Voicing that request, the dragon softly pushed plates and cutlery aside, intent on taking his leave in short order.
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micelus

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Re: Isle of the Young Gods: Game Thread
« Reply #302 on: August 09, 2014, 07:45:09 pm »

"Eh? Sure, have one. Just please do not cause any trouble down there."

Ketemos handed over a key and continued with his business.
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Weirdsound

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Re: Isle of the Young Gods: Game Thread
« Reply #303 on: August 09, 2014, 09:32:57 pm »

Turn 3: All In

Year 764, Month of:

Korroarfall
Rexxisreign
Bellia
Autumnjoy
Kia
Valor
Clammor
Alvin
Abbey
Mortus
Autumnwrath
Glaciana

---

The Card Game:

Pyrite and Auratus both arrive at the Infelix Family compound in Kiatown at around the same time, and are greeted by beautiful young Bellian youth who introduces herself as Chance Infelix. "Father appointed me to entertain the gods until his return should they choose to come play cards today. A servant has been dispatched to fetch him, but I can't speak to how long it will take for him to wrap up his other affairs, return home, and change into an outfit worthy of your divine presence," She explains.

Chance does a fine job, much better than one would expect from a mortal of her limited years, of keeping her guests from growing impatient or bored. Over the course of the hour and a half wait she hosts general discussions on her upcoming marriage to Messel, the goals and troubles of the young pantheon, and the comparative merits of Draconic and Bellian Architecture. During the final thirty minutes of the wait she shows great skill hosting a frank discussion on the ins and outs of manipulation and courtly intrigue with Auratus, while at the same time asking and receiving Pyrite's advice on what to expect and do in bed on her wedding night.

Lord Infelix arrival is eventually announced, and you each notice one final thing about the girl as she rises to get the door for him; She hides it very well under her wide and poofy dress and equally wide smile, but Chance Infelix walks with a heavy limp and significant pain.

The graying Noble enters, offers each of his guests a deep bow, and calls for his cards and playing table. It is at this point that Pyrite suggests the game be located to Newbellum Castle, so the others who couldn't make it may join in, but Ryder Infelix shoots the idea down by stating that he'd prefer to take a god who takes the time and initiative to come to him.

A small table covered in green felt is placed in the room, and a deck of cards made of some exotic leather and trimmed with gems and gold is placed upon the table. "This is the Deck of Fortune, one of the artifacts available to the winner as tribute. It is enchanted to prevent cheating, and I can vouch from experience that the enchantment works. It is also said that, when playing with this deck for truly high stakes, a player who reveals two or more aces in his hand will enjoy a stroke of good fortune, but a player who reveals two or more twos will suffer some unfortunate incident or another. I cannot say I have ever seen this occur, but I can say that I have never played for stakes quite this high."

The man then explains the simple rules: One poker-like hand will be played, and the God with the best hand at the end will become the new patron of the Island Branch of House Infelix. If neither god, however, ends up with a better hand than Ryder, the noble will take it as a sign that neither god can bring the luck his family needs.

A servant deals each player two cards, and since the stakes are already known, he then skips to placing three cards on the table: The 9, 10, and Jack of Hearts. Pyrite reveals his hand first; The eight of clubs is useless to him, but the queen of hearts gives him a four card run with what is on the table, which Ryder matter-o-factly states would be impossible to beat with any combination of remaining cards before revealing that he had the Ace and the Three of clubs.

A mild expression of fear flashes across the face of Auratus, followed by a less than mild expression of annoyance. He throws his cards on the table and storms out of the room in a huff. Ryder gathers the cards for a peek, before revealing that the Dragon had been dealt the Two of Hearts and the Two of Clubs. "Damn. I hope for his sake that the story about bad luck on the twos isn't true..."

Pyrite may gain 2 prayer energy, or he may instead refocus the energy on improving Ryder as per his Scholar of the Body boon...
Auratus has Critically Failed, and will suffer on his own turn...


Pyrite:

You start your activities for the month by pulling Oliver aside and trying once more to modify his body. This time your improvements go off without a hitch; His flesh becomes harder, his wounds begin to heal themselves at a frighteningly rapid pace, and he gains the ability to shape his own bones into pertruding weapons.

Oliver thanks you enthusiastically, as does his mother. You feel a brief glow of power to do with as you please...

Pyrite may gain 1 prayer energy, or he may instead refocus the energy on improving Shilo as per his Scholar of the Body boon...
+New Actor: Oliver the Unstoppable


Next you head to your chambers, and try your hand at dream interpretation, but the realm of dreams is a slippery place, unregulated by any deity that you are aware of. Instead of being an outside observer of Darla's dream, with some power to control it yourself, the nightmare is sucked into your mind and you pass out to dream it yourself.

You see the large gnarled hunks of floating wood that Darla had complained of. They are massive things, about two dozen strong, that seem to squirm and twitch at incalculable intervals. The Galley of Mortus enters frame briefly, but promptly turns around and flies off ahead of the wooden things as fast as it will go.

You then experience fear, pain, loss, and despair. You are sure you are fighting and losing some sort of battle, but you are unable to recall the exact details later.

The last scene of the dream, the one that causes you to bolt awake in shock, depicts your own body, and the remains of the other castle residents, suspended from the wall in pieces by vines.

After waking up, you spend a few minutes meditating on what you have seen. You get the feeling that the wooden objects are something you should know. Perhaps you glossed over them in one of your many history or biology lessons... Either way, you find yourself too low on divine power to try and contact Darla though a dream anyhow, so you call it a month on that front.

Calling Chell, you set off for Selma's gate in search of some help from the locals in dealing with the Orcs. You announce your presence, and your intentions, but quickly run into an obsticle; None of the Pirate Lords can agree on who gets to meet with you first. After some back and forth, however, you are able to get each fleet to negotiate for their services on behalf of their lords through their various servants and lesser officers.

The smallest of the fleets in port, belonging to a relatively new Pirate Lord called Pennywise the Golden, who has a better reputation for good investments and keeping a happy crew than she has reputation as a feared pirate, is willing to take the job for the two tonnes of cut ruby you pitch as your opening offer, but two larger and more powerful buccaneer navies ask a steeper price.

A Barbarian Pirate Lord by the name of Wild Red wants the Bellians to grovel in exchange for his service; In addition to rubies he demands that he be given an artifact from the Vaults of the Bellian nobility, and three young, beautiful, and highborn Bellian woman for his pleasure.

The other large fleet, belonging to a seasoned pirate lord called Meltip the Indecent, also has lofty and presumptuous demands. She wants the rubies, like the others, but also demands that she be allowed to set up a fort on the domain islands and requests a boon, the nature of which she would rather discuss with you in person.

[This successful action has netted you an RP if you want one. Feel free to drop in on one of the pirate lords at their flagship for some more hands on negotiation. Or you can accept a deal right here. Your call]

---

After you win the card game, your new vassal invites you down to his vaults to claim your prize. Aside from the deck of cards you played with, the following items are available:

-A simple spear made from a high quality wood pole, and the sharpened tusk of some sort of great beast. Ryder explains that it is a captured Orcish Artifact, and if used by a mounted warrior, said warriors steed will take on the spirit and aspect of the Bloodthirsty Dire Boar from which the tusk was harvested.
-A brown clay horn, named Spirit Stopper. You are told that it was forged from the soul of a particularly powerful Earth Elementalist, and when blown it sucks all the joy, ambition, and risky desires from those who can hear it for several hours.
-A necklace made from bits of your father's shed exoskeleton and scraps of woman's clothing. You recognize what it is and cut off the explanation; A mutual infatuation charm. When given by your father as a gift, both himself and the recipient would become bound by a powerful attraction to one another. You are positive it would work for yourself or Veilia.
-One of the Ancient Dragon Crowns, made of various rare bones and minerals. Ryder vouches that it is real, and you can sense the power within it, but nobody present is quite sure what it does. In the old days, dragons would place crowns like these on the heads of favored servants to grant them great power and compel their loyalty.

[You passed your action, so you can also have any RP you want at the Infelix house.]

Auratus:

Arriving in Kiatown, you ask for an audience with the head of House Riptide, and after some time his retainers show up to escort you to him.

Giaus Riptide, a man at least in his sixties, is found lounging in a shady tent on the beach. You note that a reclining seat has been set up for you right across from him. He rises respectfully to meet you, but you can sense fear, disdain, and courage inside of him. You get the feeling that this might not be as easy of a meeting as your previous ones have turned out to be.

"I bear no false illusions that this is to be a pleasant meeting, Dragon. Do not think I haven't heard that those blasted dread pirates all took up your brand at Selma's Gate, nor that I am fool enough to think that a Dragon might forgive my family the blood spilled in our great victory over you."

The man sneers and snaps his fingers, and one of his attendants promptly holds his sword to his master's throat. "If my death was one of the terms of whatever deal you made with those wicked buccaneers, so be it, but I wont allow you the honor of doing the deed yourself. Otherwise, you may state your business, so that we may both move along to dealing with those we do not despise."

---

Storming out of Ryder Infelix's home, you have much to be angry about. You lost the artifact to Pyrite. You have likely lost the loyalty of Messel to Pyrite. That mortal fool may have even cursed you with that deck of his!

Your anger however, quickly turns into awe, and then dread, as a creature standing three stories tall swoops down from the sky and lands in front of you. The majestic reptilian creature is covered in grey scales, and holds the unconscious form of the sailor Chell in one of its massive hands, which it throws haphazardly to the ground before locking eyes with you and calling out in Draconic.

The Dragon's true voice is much like you wish your own could be, as it sings out with notes of divine authority and power. You also, however, hear subtle strands of pure malice in the call voice. The mortals in the street, or at least the ones who didn't straight up faint at the sight of the newcomer, all fall to the ground clutching their ears; Your great language is far too much for them to handle.

Unlike Corusu, who spent a long time poetically expressing just two emotions, the newcomer manages to express large amounts of concrete information into a single five second burst. He is a member of the Orcish Pantheon, a god of Kidnapping and Provocation, and like all Orcish gods also a god of strength and war. He knows who you are; A being of similar blood to his own, who claims dominion over the pale people who come from the sea. He then asserts his superiority over you, and declares that you are his slave, before demanding that you either submit to him or prove him wrong in combat.

You have the distinct feeling that you are outclassed, but not so much that victory or escape is completely impossible.

You have been successfully engaged in combat! Your options are: Attempt to Escape Unharmed, Attempt to Kill your Attacker, or Surrender!

Ketemos:

You spend a good deal of time attempting to invent a golem capable of traveling the island and educating the masses, but distraction keeps finding you.

Several days in, a strange flying spear rockets through your room with Tulwor in hot pursuit! The strange pair manages to completely ruin your progress to that point before the chase moves along to elsewhere in the castle.

You follow the chaos to investigate, only to learn that the animated weapon had straight up murdered a small child. You are heartbroken, but also quick to forgive Tulwor's resulting destructive wrath.

Next comes even more heartbreak, when you learn, again from Tulwor, that a great lizard had dropped from the sky and grabbed Chell, the girl who is his adopted sister, and likely your biological one.

Several other things also go wrong or call your attention elsewhere. You wind up wasting several more days debating the groundskeeper Dennis, who happened to be pressing his philosophical view as a nature priest that the weak and misfortune mainly exist for the benifit of the strong onto poor impressionable Veilia. You then promptly learn that Veilia may not be as poor and impressionable as you might have thought, when your luminary randomly starts moaning and describing acts of procreation and pleasure in great detail; You eventually learn that the Filthbanisher left a few of her dirty scrolls in the pile of literature that you were scanning into the golem. She claims it was a mistake, but you are aware of her obsessively organized nature, and suspect a prank nonetheless.

By the time you track down the worst of Velilia's addition, and put a few filters into the Luminary's coding to prevent it from sharing the rest with the innocent or underage, you are out of time, and nearly out of divine energy for the month.

Tulwor:

About the only thing that goes right for you this month is the production of weapons for the Bellian Army. Your forge manages to produce more than enough spears and pikes to arm the men and women on the beach several times over.

+New Resource: 20000 Masterwork Spears (8)
+New Resource: 7000 Masterwork Pikes (4)


You then decide to move along to making a less mundane weapon for your sister. At first it seems like things are going very well, and that you are well on your way to producing a true Boon-Quality artifact. That is, however, before you make two lethal mistakes. The first, in and of itself, is harmless, and perhaps even beneficial; You accidentally fire the spear on coals reserved for animated weapons, causing it to start moving and flailing erratically. It is this movement that leads to the second mistake; As you move to spill the blood of a chicken on the weapon to teach it what it is supposed to hate, the spear flails unexpectedly. It happens so quickly that you are not sure if the weapon actually knicks your flesh, or if you cut yourself in shock. Regardless, the artifact drinks your blood instead of the blood of a bird, and ominously rises into the air on black wings, set to act on the only emotion and purpose it knows; Hatred of you and your blood!

You rise, and prepare Helmhammer to meet your new foe, but the spear, perhaps knowing that doing so would aggravate you, turns and flees from direct combat! You give chase. For the next couple days, you hunt the rouge weapon across the castle as if it was some sort of game, but all that changes when you find it in the same room as June, the young daughter of the budding hero in the crucible.

Very briefly, you fear for the girl's safety. The spear detects this feeling, and promptly answers your fear in a fashion designed to bring you the greatest grief; It rises into the air, and strikes the child twice. First it hits her in the heart, passing straight through and removing a large chunk to the organ and surrounding flesh. Then, before the doomed child can even begin to slump to the ground, the weapon turns and hits her in the brain with the same destructive force and effect. Your created nemesis turned murderer is out the door and into the hall before June's mangled and lifeless form hits the floor.

With a roar and new sense of dark gravity, you double down on your chasing of the killer. This time you don't let it out of your sight. The two of crash and smash across and around the castle; Luckily, every other person or thing encountered that is relevant to your interests is either strong enough to fend off the spear's initial attack until you can assist, or protected by the defenses granted by Labyrinth Domain.

After another week, you feel your strength and energy begin to wane, and it begins to dawn on you that, at least for now, the spear is your better. Knowing that it is beyond your ability to catch, you have to settle for chasing it out of the castle so that it may not threaten anything or anyone else.

Critical Fail!
-Resource: June, Bellian Child (+2)
+New Resource: Mangled Corpse of June (+1)
+New Actor: Tulworbane, The Black Feathered Lance


You are not one, however, to dwell on your failures, or at least that is what you tell yourself. Hoping to move past the spear, and to help your sister shed her cowardice, you take Chell out to the large lawn of Rexxis Domain and begin another round of training. After a few hours of no success in stopping her flinching, you are overtaken by the urge to obtain at least a small victory, and switch the sailor over to practicing archery.

Archery practice also goes poorly at first. It is clear that Chell grew up exposed to some truly masterful archers, and that the girl is hungry to mimic their fast firing speed and technique without first mastering the preceding steps. Such as aiming. As a result of her erratic fireing, you choose to stand well back of her during the lessons.

Things abruptly go from poor to disastrous, however, just as Chell begins to take her time and direct her shots. You are struck from behind by a massive force, and sent face first into the ground. When you look up, you see a reptile, massive, gray, and winged, chase down Chell and scoop her up. You pop back up to your feet with all urgency, and charge the intruder. It is a lost cause, however, as you lack the creature's wings.

Flying several hundred feet over your head, and using your sister as a shield against any potential incoming blow, the monster lets out a howl in a language that challenges even your divine ability to comprehend tongues. To the best of your understanding, he declares that Chell is now his slave, and that you will never see her again.

With that, your sister, and her kidnapper, vanish into Corusu's storm. You run to the docks, ready her boat, and make a pathetic attempt at giving chase. Unable to even figure out what direction they were even headed in, you wander the seas for some time in a state somewhere between depression and rage before returning to the castle exhausted and empty handed at the end of the month.

Critical Fail!
-You also normal failed your attempt to rally the troops, so I rolled your failure to do so into this action
-Chell is missing. In her absence, all interactions that require transit to the island take a -7 penalty to success rate.


Ketari:

It takes you a few tries, and almost your entire monthly allotment of divine energy, but eventually you cause the small elephant to age and grow. It reaches its full height at 16 feet tall, and curiously pokes your forehead with its toxic trunk; Obsession and loyalty are wonderful side effects of aging a creature's brain several years while you are its only stimulus.

After a few somewhat awkward minutes, during which beast and master satisfy their curiosity relating to one another, the Pachyderm succumbs to its hunger and begins to feed on the plant matter covering your chamber.

The Neurotoxic Pachyderm has grown stronger, and Loyal to Ketari!

Having obtained a key to the fleshworks from the scholarly Ketemos, you use a tiny spark of divine power to fuse the new flesh onto your own. You feel no different, and the key itself resembles a medium sized mole on your wrist once successfully attached.

-All but the most powerful of detection magic is now duped into thinking Ketari a Chimera.

Satisfied, you signal for Chell, and chart a course for Kiatown. There you retrace your steps until you reach the portal, which slides easily open at your approach. The inside of the Fleshworks is a huge open space in which hundreds of patchwork creatures work at benches to tear apart and reassemble corpses into more of their own kind. You note they are not above using birds as parts, and are not immediately sure what to make of this.

Patches sits on a throne across the room from the portal. She beckons you to approach with a huge smile. "Do my eyes deceive me? Or does the bird eater herself grace me with her presence? Come closer friend, so we may talk, or if the workfloor is not to your liking, we may go instead to my living quarters."

NPC Report:

-Sarah's training goes well this month in the Crucible. She now has a Combat Power of 10. She is in a state of grace with the will of Tulwor. This state of grace will either protect her once from dying or becoming injured in the Crucible, or grant Tulwor a +50% Success Rate Bonus on one action involving her. She is presently unaware of her daughter's death. [As she is presently stuck in the Crucible, I wont bother adding her to the NPC page until she gets out]
-Patches has helped Hugoph restore his livelyhood by splicing together a sort of crop for him; fast growing and highly addictive recreational drugs. This has mollified the farmer, but does not technically answer his prayer for vengeance. The prayer will fade in a month, as the demand for vengeance fades...
-The NPCs from Ketemos' meeting last month have left.

Newbellum Castle:
Spoiler (click to show/hide)

NPCs and Actors:

Locations and Map:
« Last Edit: August 12, 2014, 05:37:02 pm by Weirdsound »
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IronyOwl

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Re: Isle of the Young Gods: Game Thread
« Reply #304 on: August 09, 2014, 10:52:15 pm »

((OMNOMNOM PRAYER ENERGY))


To say that Pyrite was pleased at having won might have been an understatement. He'd been interested in having his own noble house, and would have liked to turn around their luck in any case; but he'd been quite impressed by Chance, and nailing the Queen of Hearts for the highest score possible that game had been a good omen if ever he'd seen one. Wondering just how deep the dragon's wrath over this humiliation ran was the only hint of dampening to his current mood.

"In all likelihood I'll take the charm," he said, wondering if it'd help his sister with her intimacy issues. "The first two don't interest me, and the crown is... hrm. Maybe it'd be worth a lot to the dragon, I'm not sure. Otherwise it's probably just a very nice ornament; if I wanted to give my followers power I'd probably do so through flesh, not jewelry."

He smiled.

"So. What's the current state of my new acquisition, and when did you intend to ask for my assistance with your daughter?"

---

Pyrite clicked his teeth in irritation. Greedy pirates... though perhaps expecting them to go in for a single boon apiece was naive. He supposed the crew might want more immediate pay than their master could afford for great strength or gills, after all.

Still, he'd wanted to meet with Meltip the Indecent ever since hearing her epithet and that she was a harpy worshiper, so he supposed now was as good a time as any. A fort on the Domain Islands, though... there was bold, and there was mind-boggling. If pirates were normally this expensive he'd have to work on getting them some kind of navy...

Visit Meltip the Indecent.
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Weirdsound

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Re: Isle of the Young Gods: Game Thread
« Reply #305 on: August 10, 2014, 02:30:14 am »


To say that Pyrite was pleased at having won might have been an understatement. He'd been interested in having his own noble house, and would have liked to turn around their luck in any case; but he'd been quite impressed by Chance, and nailing the Queen of Hearts for the highest score possible that game had been a good omen if ever he'd seen one. Wondering just how deep the dragon's wrath over this humiliation ran was the only hint of dampening to his current mood.

"In all likelihood I'll take the charm," he said, wondering if it'd help his sister with her intimacy issues. "The first two don't interest me, and the crown is... hrm. Maybe it'd be worth a lot to the dragon, I'm not sure. Otherwise it's probably just a very nice ornament; if I wanted to give my followers power I'd probably do so through flesh, not jewelry."

He smiled.

"So. What's the current state of my new acquisition, and when did you intend to ask for my assistance with your daughter?"

The man shrugs, and puts the deck back in its display case. "Well you can take your time and think it over. I don't think any of them are going anywhere. Except perhaps the spear when Timothy's luck runs out... and you are not even interested in that one."

He sighs when you ask about the family; "On parchment we look to be in pretty good shape. We have a bunch of gold, we own the two good schools in town, and of my six children one is about to marry a herald and three of the others are on the short list for the crown should the Mercede party prevail... But if you dig deeper, we have problems."

"Your Herald and my niece, Hialarth, spends my gold as quick as I can make or import it. It is all for the cause, and she is very good at pushing the cause when given gold..." his voice trails off, "...but she is intent on getting the crown for one of her own children, who are of House Wildefair. The crown doesn't mean enough to me that I'd fight Kin for it, but it is kind of a sore spot that Hialarth can drain my coffers entirely for her own gain."

He lets out a dark chuckle, "You really see the family luck though when it comes to the kids. My eldest, Kimberly, couldn't give a crap about political affairs or even her own reputation; She works at the Selma's Gate docks, and shares a house with a Satyr and a common barbarian woman. I suspect you'd like her, but she is to much of a wild card to keep around. Dominick, my eldest son and Chance's twin brother, is both a good warrior and a good scholar. He is also marked for death by both the Nexus and the Populi, so I have sent him back to the mainland to study alchemy."

Ryder can't help but pause and smile for a second when he speaks of Chance, "I was going to ask you to help Chance with her issues after she got married; Hialarth is already planning the wedding, and has put in a custom order for matching leg braces for the bride and groom, and I'd rather not cross Hialarth if I don't have to. Chance is my pride and joy though. She has Hialarth's social savvy, and soon will also have the authority of a herald on her side; She is, in all likelyhood, my best non-divine shot a bringing a crown to House Infelix. She just has to play her cards right."

He frowns again, and signals a servant for a cigar. "Her younger brother, Timothy, is in deep trouble. That blasted Commander in Chief found a loophole in the law that allows him to draft the poor 11 year old into the army! We are fighting it in the courts, but since the Nexus controls the courts, the result is inevitable. The poor lad dabbles in painting and dog breeding; If if he was older, he is not the sort of son I'd put in the military. Once he's in I fear he's as good as dead."

Lighting his smoke, and offering one to you, Ryder again pauses before describing his youngest son. "Henry is the smartest boy I know; He can beat me at chess, and he is only six, but he also gives me the creeps. He likes to hang around the dungeon, torment my prisoners, and poke about with my corpses. I just find the child unnerving; He must have been switched with a Nightcharm at birth...

As for my youngest daughter, Miri, she is only two, and she is also the daughter of my second and current wife, who is of lower birth than her late predecessor. I'm half tempted to have her shipped back to the mainland to study or live with cousins when she is old enough to make the voyage; With her relative age and weak birth, she will never be much of a political powerhouse, so I might as well keep her from these dangerous politics."


The man takes a deep drag on his cigar. "Beyond contenders of the highest birth, I have three brothers, a brother in law, and a cousin, plus all their kids living on the compound with me. Between the well trained champions amoung their ranks, a generous serving of hired muscle, and my own great success as a cavalier, the family can hold its own in a fight if need be."

He takes a deep breath, and gather's his courge, before speaking again. "How about you then? What do you plan on asking of and offering to us?"


Pyrite clicked his teeth in irritation. Greedy pirates... though perhaps expecting them to go in for a single boon apiece was naive. He supposed the crew might want more immediate pay than their master could afford for great strength or gills, after all.

Still, he'd wanted to meet with Meltip the Indecent ever since hearing her epithet and that she was a harpy worshiper, so he supposed now was as good a time as any. A fort on the Domain Islands, though... there was bold, and there was mind-boggling. If pirates were normally this expensive he'd have to work on getting them some kind of navy...

Visit Meltip the Indecent.

You have no trouble at all finding Meltip's flagship, The Flying Gorgon. It is the one with the rather large harpy nest among the sails and rigging. Dropping onto the deck, you demand to see the admiral, and are escorted into her chambers.

Meltip's chambers are somewhat more spartan than you would have expected; A hammok, a desk, and a throne made from a large stuffed serpent. Meltip herself seems shockingly young for a pirate of her reputation, and is flanked by four guards, two of which happen to be Harpies.

"I'm so glad you could make it Pyrite," she declares with a voice and smile too sweet to be genuine, "I didn't think you would be brave enough to actually approach my husband... Your eyes are different from most, perhaps you think or know that a basilisk cannot hurt you? Hmmmm?"

She offers her throne an affectionate pat on the head, and it offers a slight lazy twitch. At this point the penny drops; Meltip is sitting atop a live Basilisk, a creature capable of killing even a god with nothing more than a bit of eye contact. You, in fact, have no clue if the creature is a threat to you or not, but just to be safe, for the first time you remember, a good averts his gaze away from a mere mortal.
« Last Edit: August 10, 2014, 06:25:47 pm by Weirdsound »
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IronyOwl

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Re: Isle of the Young Gods: Game Thread
« Reply #306 on: August 10, 2014, 06:41:42 am »

He takes a deep breath, and gather's his courge, before speaking again. "How about you then? What do you plan on asking of and offering to us?"
Pyrite took a long puff on his cigar, thinking.

"If we're to be honest," he finally said, "Hialarth concerns me as well. I only know of her issues by reputation, but it sounds as though her ambition might be... unhealthy." He took another puff, shrugging. "I'd already decided to support the Mercedes, I now have the fealty of House Infelix, and I'm familiar enough with House Wildefaire to like and respect them." He grinned. "Ah... though perhaps I should go visit them to make sure there's no hard feelings, and let them know there's no malice on my part."

He chuckled, before remembering what he was talking about. "Ah, but Hialarth. Technically she's on my side, but I hadn't intended to be quite so... partisan. I was hoping to help all of Kiatown, not just my faction or followers, you see. I'm not sure how healthy Hialarth's actions are for that."

He sat in thought for another minute, forgetting his cigar, before brightening up.

"As for your House, nothing major. I'd like you to act as my mortal tendrils down here; I've mentioned my desire not to be too political, but I'd still like to benefit from my efforts. Having you should help with that.

As for what I offer... well, not too much. What's convenient for you is now convenient for me, so that should be nice, but I hadn't really intended to build you up especially quickly. I also find myself rather busy these days, so between this and that I'm liable to not have time for idle improvements."


He leaned back, inhaled, held, and then slowly exhaled a deep breath.

"...in fact, I wonder if there are things I could do about that. My brother recently set up some gateways, I've been pondering something to let me improve mortals at a distance... hm... you might end up being a base camp for me as well, although... hm. I wonder if that sort of thing would be better suited to a proper temple."


You have no trouble at all finding Meltip's flagship, The Flying Gorgon. It is the one with the rather large harpy nest among the sails and rigging. Dropping onto the deck, you demand to see the admiral, and are escorted into her chambers.

Meltip's chambers are somewhat more spartan than you would have expected; A hammok, a desk, and a throne made from a large stuffed serpent. Meltip herself seems shockingly young for a pirate of her reputation, and is flanked by four guards, two of which happen to be Harpies.

"I'm so glad you could make it Pyrite," she declares with a voice and smile too sweet to be genuine, "I didn't think you would be brave enough to actually approach my husband... Your eyes are different from most, perhaps you think or know that a basilisk cannot hurt you? Hmmmm?"

She offers her throne an affectionate pat on the head, and it offers a slight lazy twitch. At this point the penny drops; Meltip is sitting atop a live Basilisk, a creature capable of killing even a god with nothing more than a bit of eye contact. You, in fact, have no clue if the creature is a threat to you or not, but just to be safe, for the first time you remember, a good averts his gaze away from a mere mortal.
Pyrite liked this not at all. Not just the basilisk- her behavior and tone, the extent of her harpy integration... he now doubted more than ever her desire to build a fort on the Domain Islands.

"...I wasn't expecting you to be married," he said after a moment, thinking carefully about what to say next. "Tell me, where did you meet him?"
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GiglameshDespair

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Re: Isle of the Young Gods: Game Thread
« Reply #307 on: August 10, 2014, 09:25:09 am »

Ketari looked around herself in interest.

"I wondered what was behind this door when I discovered it months ago. I almost knocked, but caution got the better of me."

She smiled back.
"I am interested... magic like this is unknown to me. I create beasts from plants and change that which lives, but never have I made them from the dead. Maybe I should try, yes? I notice you use birds, though..." She frowned, unable to tell whether she approved or not. After all, the death of birds was something to rejoice, but to give them a different use and some semblance of life... her senses were confused. "Anyway, I have come to offer you my friendship." She smiled again, warmly.

((I've PMed you, Wierdsound, so my next actions kinda depend on your replies. Also, could you update the NPCs and Actors with Velenos? ))
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Re: Isle of the Young Gods: Game Thread
« Reply #308 on: August 10, 2014, 10:25:25 am »

Giaus Riptide, a man at least in his sixties, is found lounging in a shady tent on the beach. You note that a reclining seat has been set up for you right across from him. He rises respectfully to meet you, but you can sense fear, disdain, and courage inside of him. You get the feeling that this might not be as easy of a meeting as your previous ones have turned out to be.

"I bear no false illusions that this is to be a pleasant meeting, Dragon. Do not think I haven't heard that those blasted dread pirates all took up your brand at Selma's Gate, nor that I am fool enough to think that a Dragon might forgive my family the blood spilled in our great victory over you."

The man sneers and snaps his fingers, and one of his attendants promptly holds his sword to his master's throat. "If my death was one of the terms of whatever deal you made with those wicked buccaneers, so be it, but I wont allow you the honor of doing the deed yourself. Otherwise, you may state your business, so that we may both move along to dealing with those we do not despise."

Setting himself into the chair with no particular haste, the dragon falls into cold, scornful laughter, lasting for a good few moments. When he finally speaks up, his words are dripping with poison, the volume of them continuously rising, until he is almost roaring them. " You think that would be the end of it? Really? Don't you dare underestimate me, nor my wrath! I will have you know that Mortus just recently left these islands, leaving me with more than ample time to take possession of your very soul, should I desire to do so! I will also have you know that dying by my hand should prove much preferable to any alternative I would have in store for you! "

What a disastrous meeting, and what nerve the mortal had to taunt him. Auratus let himself fall into the chair with an irate sigh, and the mind to just gut the old man before him and be done with it. If it were not for him holding back his anger, he surely would have already done so, but subduing his emotions was a draining task for him. When he spoke again, he stared down the noble, his voice far from being gentle, but richer by an accusatory tone.

" Now, have you finished treating me like an adversary to your noble house, or do you plan to further sap what little remains of the goodwill that led me here? Have I not furthered your Mercede Cause, and even advised Messel to give one of his daughters to your house? If this is how you treat all of your benefactors, I wonder little that the general position of House Riptide leaves so much to be desired for! "

Having – hopefully – cleared up the worst of Giaus' misconceptions, the dragon waited for the reaction of said mortal.


Your anger however, quickly turns into awe, and then dread, as a creature standing three stories tall swoops down from the sky and lands in front of you. The majestic reptilian creature is covered in grey scales, and holds the unconscious form of the sailor Chell in one of its massive hands, which it throws haphazardly to the ground before locking eyes with you and calling out in Draconic.

The Dragon's true voice is much like you wish your own could be, as it sings out with notes of divine authority and power. You also, however, hear subtle strands of pure malice in the call voice. The mortals in the street, or at least the ones who didn't straight up faint at the sight of the newcomer, all fall to the ground clutching their ears; Your great language is far too much for them to handle.

Unlike Corusu, who spent a long time poetically expressing just two emotions, the newcomer manages to express large amounts of concrete information into a single five second burst. He is a member of the Orcish Pantheon, a god of Kidnapping and Provocation, and like all Orcish gods also a god of strength and war. He knows who you are; A being of similar blood to his own, who claims dominion over the pale people who come from the sea. He then asserts his superiority over you, and declares that you are his slave, before demanding that you either submit to him or prove him wrong in combat.

You have the distinct feeling that you are outclassed, but not so much that victory or escape is completely impossible.

Another dragon. What joyous an occasion such a meeting normally would be, the stranger seemed to have an altogether different view on the matter. Auratus did not really dare to think he could best one who might date back to the time before time, and could also be an established god from the ages since. Was the colour of his scales the stone-grey of a fellow earth dragon, the colour of dark clouds, or maybe even troubled water? If he were to flee, he would most likely do so into the storm, hoping that he either could loose the orcish god, or for his other elder to be compelled to help him, either from his own violation, or by the torturous bindings he was tied with.

Still, maybe there was room for negotiation? Introducing himself could not be more futile than fighting it, and if need be he could always flee. Steeling himself, he considered calling out in draconic, but forsake it for the possibility of failing to do so, which might lower his status even further than he was about to do.

With all the confidence he could muster – allegedly, not all that much - he called out; " I am Auratus, Son to Tonneth, God of Wrath and Riches. Neither have I been a god for half a year, nor am I blessed in years like you are. While I thus can't claim superiority over you, like you would like to claim over me, I would loath to battle with kin, as would I loath to become your slave. " Delivering his speech – or as much as the other dragon would hear of it – Auratus was intent on departing, once it would become apparent that his kin could indeed not be reasoned with.
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Weirdsound

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Re: Isle of the Young Gods: Game Thread
« Reply #309 on: August 10, 2014, 11:47:24 am »

He takes a deep breath, and gather's his courge, before speaking again. "How about you then? What do you plan on asking of and offering to us?"
Pyrite took a long puff on his cigar, thinking.

"If we're to be honest," he finally said, "Hialarth concerns me as well. I only know of her issues by reputation, but it sounds as though her ambition might be... unhealthy." He took another puff, shrugging. "I'd already decided to support the Mercedes, I now have the fealty of House Infelix, and I'm familiar enough with House Wildefaire to like and respect them." He grinned. "Ah... though perhaps I should go visit them to make sure there's no hard feelings, and let them know there's no malice on my part."

He chuckled, before remembering what he was talking about. "Ah, but Hialarth. Technically she's on my side, but I hadn't intended to be quite so... partisan. I was hoping to help all of Kiatown, not just my faction or followers, you see. I'm not sure how healthy Hialarth's actions are for that."

He sat in thought for another minute, forgetting his cigar, before brightening up.

"As for your House, nothing major. I'd like you to act as my mortal tendrils down here; I've mentioned my desire not to be too political, but I'd still like to benefit from my efforts. Having you should help with that.

As for what I offer... well, not too much. What's convenient for you is now convenient for me, so that should be nice, but I hadn't really intended to build you up especially quickly. I also find myself rather busy these days, so between this and that I'm liable to not have time for idle improvements."


He leaned back, inhaled, held, and then slowly exhaled a deep breath.

"...in fact, I wonder if there are things I could do about that. My brother recently set up some gateways, I've been pondering something to let me improve mortals at a distance... hm... you might end up being a base camp for me as well, although... hm. I wonder if that sort of thing would be better suited to a proper temple."

The old man rubs his beard, and takes another puff of cigar. "I'd prefer to help you with a temple. If we use my estate as a base for that, it would be easy for thieves and assassins to get in by claiming they are here to be improved... But we can do it here if you wish. Land in the city isn't cheap, but I suspect you are the sort to be more intrested in the quality and behavior of priests and priestesses than the quality of building material... Hmmm?"

He offers a smirk, "As for my niece, the girl has always been ambitious and politically involved, but she has been nothing short of a force of nature since you guys brought her back. Perhaps she has bought into the gravity of her position as herald, or perhaps she is driven by revenge - but make no mistake, she is driven. That festival of yours, lots of fun by the way, was the only time I've seen her doing something unrelated to the cause since coming back. Her present devotion is a bit frightening."

Pyrite liked this not at all. Not just the basilisk- her behavior and tone, the extent of her harpy integration... he now doubted more than ever her desire to build a fort on the Domain Islands.

"...I wasn't expecting you to be married," he said after a moment, thinking carefully about what to say next. "Tell me, where did you meet him?"

Meltip chuckles, "We were raised together. Just as the only way to hatch a Basilisk is by raising a chicken egg under a frog, the only way to tame a Basilisk is by raising the child of two lowborn murderers at a noble court. Poor lord Barebreast just failed to understand that the taming would be mutual..."

She smiles, and gazes into the eyes of the serpent, seemingly suffering no harm. "He was tasty though... wasn't he dear?"

The creature emits a high sound somewhere between a hiss and nails on a chalkboard, and the pirate turns her attention back to you. "But back to business then. I'll take it you have come to negotiate my offer?"

Ketari looked around herself in interest.

"I wondered what was behind this door when I discovered it months ago. I almost knocked, but caution got the better of me."

She smiled back.
"I am interested... magic like this is unknown to me. I create beasts from plants and change that which lives, but never have I made them from the dead. Maybe I should try, yes? I notice you use birds, though..." She frowned, unable to tell whether she approved or not. After all, the death of birds was something to rejoice, but to give them a different use and some semblance of life... her senses were confused. "Anyway, I have come to offer you my friendship." She smiled again, warmly.

Patches nods. "It is not difficult magic. It is meerly finding a spark of life, often in the bacteria and fungus trying to decompose the corpse in question, and nurturing and spreading it until it has seized control of the flesh where death once reigned. The only true limitation is that the flesh has to be undecayed enough to handle life, but we have equipment here to deal with some decay. I have the supplies here to do the magic bits for me, so if you wish, you can even work without exerting divine energy."

She offers a kind smile at Ketari's confusion. "I assure you, my use of bird parts is born not out of any love for birds, but out of a hatred for waste. You might not use one as parts as I do, but you don't leave their carcasses out to rot either, do you?"

Rising from her throne, patches offers you her hand to shake. "I accept and return your offer of friendship. Feel free to visit me or use my gear whenever you wish. But I'm guessing you came with other business in  mind?"
« Last Edit: August 10, 2014, 04:49:36 pm by Weirdsound »
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GiglameshDespair

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Re: Isle of the Young Gods: Game Thread
« Reply #310 on: August 10, 2014, 01:28:18 pm »

Ketari gladly shook the Chimeric goddess's hand. "That I do, though your offers are kind, and I would be grateful to use your devices. The harpies siege your people, do they not? They are your enemy and my prey, so in that we have agreement they are vile, foul birds.

They have - or rather, had - two Final eggs, they called them, and I recently came into possession of one. A great threat they are, yes - a threat to both our peoples.  The last needs to be taken, and then we can crush the Harpies. Many pieces to put together, yes? Though..."


Ketari cocked her head at a slight roar that reverberated through the building, but gave it no heed - it was a sound from outside.

"The orcs also threaten my people. I may be unable to lever my fellow gods into fighting the harpies with us until they are defeated, and more threats abound. Meltip the Pirate." She spat the word like venom. "She allies with the Harpies to burn my forest. To despoil the islands of my home. Had I known earlier, I could have dealt with her myself, but my magic is exhausted for now, and she has a basilisk I would need my powers to overcome."


She grumbled. If she had any magic left, she could seek an audience, and use the secret words of thought to control the bird-bitch and have her turn on her erstwhile patrons.

"In other words, I offer what help i can, but I hear the siege is much of a stalemate for now, and other dangers for mine own loom large."

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IronyOwl

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Re: Isle of the Young Gods: Game Thread
« Reply #311 on: August 10, 2014, 03:05:46 pm »

The old man rubs his beard, and takes another puff of cigar. "I'd prefer to help you with a temple. If we use my estate as a base for that, it would be easy for thieves and assassins to get in by claiming they are here to be improved... But we can do it here if you wish. Land in the city isn't cheap, but I suspect you are the sort to be more intrested in the quality and behavior of priests and priestesses than the quality of building material... Hmmm?"

He offers a smirk, "As for my niece, the girl has always been ambitious and politically involved, but she has been nothing short of a force of nature since you guys brought her back. Perhaps she has bought into the gravity of her position as herald, or perhaps she is driven by revenge - but make no mistake, she is driven. That festival of yours, lots of fun by the way, was the only time I've seen her doing something unrelated to the cause since coming back. Her present devotion is a bit frightening."
Pyrite nodded.

"I'd actually intended to build it underground to get around that issue, but I'm not picky. I'd also assumed I'd have to do it myself, but that's now negotiable as well, I suppose."

He smiled and tilted his head a bit.

"Speaking of which... I actually don't know that much about temples, but I was hoping mine could be a bit more functional than just being a place to pray. Or maybe wrapped in or just adjacent to something a bit more functional... such as a pleasure lounge? Or maybe a bit broader than just that; a gymnasium, for instance.

Heh. I suppose this is getting rather grandiose and expensive, though I suspect there'd be good money in some of it. As mentioned, I'm also willing to do it myself, or trade favors for you to do it. What's your take on it?"



Meltip chuckles, "We were raised together. Just as the only way to hatch a Basilisk is by raising a chicken egg under a frog, the only way to tame a Basilisk is by raising the child of two lowborn murderers at a noble court. Poor lord Barebreast just failed to understand that the taming would be mutual..."

She smiles, and gazes into the eyes of the serpent, seemingly suffering no harm. "He was tasty though... wasn't her dear?"

The creature emits a high sound somewhere between a hiss and nails on a chalkboard, and the pirate turns her attention back to you. "But back to business then. I'll take it you have come to negotiate my offer?"
Pyrite couldn't help but be fascinated by her tale... and have his opinion of her improved somewhat. A basilisk's broodmate and lover seemed a somehow far less malicious story than he'd feared.

"I have... your price is steep, and if I might say so vague. What boon would you ask of me, and what manner of fort do you seek on the Domain Islands?"
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Weirdsound

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Re: Isle of the Young Gods: Game Thread
« Reply #312 on: August 10, 2014, 04:11:28 pm »

"The Harpies outnumber your people on this island 15 to 1, and each is likely able to easily best a Bellian with equivalent training. Each side in the mountain siege has at least eight times the combined manpower of both sides in the beach siege. As much as I appreciate the offer, I would not ask to squander my ally by having her pick a fight she is not yet ready for... I have my own plan to quietly hurt the winged bitches from here, but the actions of several other members of your Pantheon are making it less feasible by the day."

Patches pauses in thought. "I easily have enough monsters down here to turn the odds in your favor against the Orc, but if I am blatant about my presence, it might inspire the loathsome birds to move against this city so as to destroy me... But seeing as your pantheon has much to lose should Kiatown fall under attack, I will gladly help if you think it is worth it."

The strange goddess produces a flask from her robe, and takes a sip. "That you have a final egg is of interest though. My people have, or can make, a deity with the skill to deal with and properly exploit it if we can smuggle it into the mountains somehow. I'm sure you would be rewarded greatly if you were to make such a delivery."

Patches nearly does a spit-take at the mention of a Basilisk. "A Basilisk... Wow... and your enemy as well? If you slay it, I could use its eyes as weapons and its body as the base for a new Chimeric Deity... Not that I'd advise you to pick a fight with such a creature. It can drop a goddess dead as easily as it can  a mortal."

Giaus Riptide, a man at least in his sixties, is found lounging in a shady tent on the beach. You note that a reclining seat has been set up for you right across from him. He rises respectfully to meet you, but you can sense fear, disdain, and courage inside of him. You get the feeling that this might not be as easy of a meeting as your previous ones have turned out to be.

"I bear no false illusions that this is to be a pleasant meeting, Dragon. Do not think I haven't heard that those blasted dread pirates all took up your brand at Selma's Gate, nor that I am fool enough to think that a Dragon might forgive my family the blood spilled in our great victory over you."

The man sneers and snaps his fingers, and one of his attendants promptly holds his sword to his master's throat. "If my death was one of the terms of whatever deal you made with those wicked buccaneers, so be it, but I wont allow you the honor of doing the deed yourself. Otherwise, you may state your business, so that we may both move along to dealing with those we do not despise."

Setting himself into the chair with no particular haste, the dragon falls into cold, scornful laughter, lasting for a good few moments. When he finally speaks up, his words are dripping with poison, the volume of them continuously rising, until he is almost roaring them. " You think that would be the end of it? Really? Don't you dare underestimate me, nor my wrath! I will have you know that Mortus just recently left these islands, leaving me with more than ample time to take possession of your very soul, should I desire to do so! I will also have you know that dying by my hand should prove much preferable to any alternative I would have in store for you! "

What a disastrous meeting, and what nerve the mortal had to taunt him. Auratus let himself fall into the chair with an irate sigh, and the mind to just gut the old man before him and be done with it. If it were not for him holding back his anger, he surely would have already done so, but subduing his emotions was a draining task for him. When he spoke again, he stared down the noble, his voice far from being gentle, but richer by an accusatory tone.

" Now, have you finished treating me like an adversary to your noble house, or do you plan to further sap what little remains of the goodwill that led me here? Have I not furthered your Mercede Cause, and even advised Messel to give one of his daughters to your house? If this is how you treat all of your benefactors, I wonder little that the general position of House Riptide leaves so much to be desired for! "

Having – hopefully – cleared up the worst of Giaus' misconceptions, the dragon waited for the reaction of said mortal.

Giaus blinks, gestures to his mook to put the sword away, falls back into his seat, and falls silent for a long spell. He speaks again in a tone that is less contemptuous, but no more trusting either.

"...I beg your pardon then. I always thought of the gods as beings more interested in their own desires and grudges than mortal politics, and the commoner never mentioned that he got advice from you. I will hear you out if you still wish to speak to me."

Auratus was clearly confused, if not dumbfounded – here sat this ancient being in front of him, claiming to have never risen above being a chef in all that long time. A nagging, frightening thought for him. What could ever drive such a creature? Was it only love for its craft? Had it faithfully followed some superior being? Then again, the barbarian gods were not known for their cooperation, and it seemed the former god gave his blessings rather freely. He could not help but ask for more revelation on this matter.

" While I was aware by the fact that your name is, well, not as often mentioned as other, more warmongering gods, that you seem to have other goals in mind than most of us dragons do, I can't help but ask if you are truly complacent with being just a cook? Was it for lack of ambitions on your part that you did not achieve more, was it your circumstances... or are these ambitions of yours actually solely limited to cooking instead? " A being of power, that only used its powers for cooking – while he had tasted the dishes, and could vouch for their far superior quality, the existence of Oinkiny seemed lacking to him. Far too lacking.

At least the dragon was most pleased to hear that the oaf was finally going to help those which would be most apt to worship him. Not that he really liked the god possibly growing in strength, but more for the sake of not doing the task himself. While he had no qualms about using his strength against the orcs, it was a task easily delegated towards and done by others.

" If you truly want to do so, I might be able to arrange for your kitchen. I plan on visiting Kiatown afterwards, and the person I am to visit should be more than able, if not also willing to provide what you would need. Speaking from a logical point of view, the feast would need to be held in at least two shifts, lest all the soldiers are unavailable to do their duty, with restricted access to alcohol for a similar reason. Thinking of the siege, once it would be broken, the festivities that would undoubtedly be held should also call for your expertise. Well, that would be a story for then. Either way, if you agree to it, I will order it to be done, and you should be able to entertain the army come next month. Just give me your agreement and a list of what you would need. "

Voicing that request, the dragon softly pushed plates and cutlery aside, intent on taking his leave in short order.

"Of course I dream big." The pig beast answers, "Who dosn't want more power? As you suggested, it is mainly my circumstances that kept me held down. I achieved godhood when a long dead god of my long dead people went overboard in trying to stop his favorite chef from ageing. For the longest span of time, up until the Bellians say time began, I was more prized possession than god, swapped between deities and dragon lords for goods and favors. During the war, I came into my own a bit. The soldiers on our side loved and worshiped me, but the Dragons needed me as a chef more than ever to feed their legions, so I had no time to parley my worship into influence."

He closes his eyes, and gives his head a brief shake. "After the war, I served as one of four beings in the Boarsman Pantheon, but the other three were all mighty combat veterans, so I didn't have much opportunity for advancement there. I did stand up for myself, and was promptly ousted from the Pantheon as a result, when I was the sole vote against joining Alvin's rebellion against Rexxis in the Twin Rivers War. It turns out I had the right idea in trying to stay out of that one, but I couldn't gloat because Valor decided to punish my race by killing them all to the last child. Since then, I've been running from Valor and Fletchtania, who have made a sport out of hunting down the remaining Boarsman Divine. The only reason I'm not mounted in that bastard's trophy room is because he thought me too ugly and not memorable enough of a fight to make a trophy out of."

Another dragon. What joyous an occasion such a meeting normally would be, the stranger seemed to have an altogether different view on the matter. Auratus did not really dare to think he could best one who might date back to the time before time, and could also be an established god from the ages since. Was the colour of his scales the stone-grey of a fellow earth dragon, the colour of dark clouds, or maybe even troubled water? If he were to flee, he would most likely do so into the storm, hoping that he either could loose the orcish god, or for his other elder to be compelled to help him, either from his own violation, or by the torturous bindings he was tied with.

Still, maybe there was room for negotiation? Introducing himself could not be more futile than fighting it, and if need be he could always flee. Steeling himself, he considered calling out in draconic, but forsake it for the possibility of failing to do so, which might lower his status even further than he was about to do.

With all the confidence he could muster – allegedly, not all that much - he called out; " I am Auratus, Son to Tonneth, God of Wrath and Riches. Neither have I been a god for half a year, nor am I blessed in years like you are. While I thus can't claim superiority over you, like you would like to claim over me, I would loath to battle with kin, as would I loath to become your slave. " Delivering his speech – or as much as the other dragon would hear of it – Auratus was intent on departing, once it would become apparent that his kin could indeed not be reasoned with.


The Dragon has the courtesy to hear you out, before letting out a war cry, scooping and charging after you. You take to the sky at the last minute, and start bolting towards Corusu's storm for cover.

Thoughts race in your mind as you fly. It is almost impossible for the dragon to share the earth bloodline with you; Natural born earth dragons do not fly, and constructed ones are not made of organic material. Although you cannot rule it out, you suspect it isn't a water dragon either; If it was, the Orcs under it would likely have more of a presence at sea. Your foe being a dragon of the skies is the most likely possibility, but also the least desirable. Should that be the case the storm would hinder you more than it.

The pursuer doubles back to grab his other hostage, before taking off after you. At first it seems you are doomed; Its flight is much faster than your own. But when the hostile god closes in to grab you, you find that your maneuverability surpasses his own, allowing you to evade capture. The pursuer, however, seems to pick up on your plan to enter the storm, and begins to herd you back towards Kiatown.

The two of you fly over the city for nearly an hour. The mortals begin to look up and watch in confusion as the god they are not even sure they can trust is pursued across the sky by a larger dragon. Said larger dragon is also confused by the situation; He seems completely unable to wrap his head around the idea that somebody might find serving their betters to be undesirable or demeaning.

Eventually, however, your pursuer is able to perdict one of your slippery maneuvers, and knock you from the sky with a tail slap. You land hard, stunned but otherwise uninjured, and the victor lands in front of you to claim his prize. He reaches down to grab you in his massive hand, before abruptly staggering back as what appears to be a massive ballista bolt is planted in his shoulder.

He lets out a cry of pain in Draconic, which abruptly intensifies as a much smaller arrow finds his left eye. You turn around to find a small host of Bellians, armed with a seige engine and all wearing the emblem of House Skullcrest. All the surrounding buildings fly the hated symbol on their flag as well. It would seem that the stranger had just knocked you onto the property of the one Bellian family best equipped to deal with his kind. You are not sure if you like this development or not.

The dragon approaches you again, trying to shake off the pain, and promptly takes a ballista shot to the knee, nearly severing his leg and causing him to nearly loose footing before using his wings to regain balance and leave the ground. "The interference of these fools means nothing to my superiority over you, seek me out so that you may bend your knee and take joy in servitude Auratus!" He howls in a less sacred tongue, before taking off north into the jungles with Chell.

Several of the mortals gather around and help you to your feet. Their leader, a Bellian in his early twenties, looks you over with a big ol' shit eating grin before speaking. "Well this is one for the history books. Big, bad, Auratus, rescued from his own kind by House Skullcrest!"

+New Malus: Embarrassing Debt to House Skullcrest
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GiglameshDespair

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Re: Isle of the Young Gods: Game Thread
« Reply #313 on: August 10, 2014, 04:58:18 pm »

"I feel it would not be hard to transport the egg itself, at least to here.

There's a ship full of explosives in the harbour here... I imagine it could be used as a weapon, if it came to it, to kill the basilisk and it's mistress with less risk. I'm sorry to ask it of you, but if the fleet leaves to the Newbellum Castle, I would not be surprised if all my fellow Bellian gods and I were permamently weakened by the encounter. Of course, I'd help in any attack

What is your plan, anyway? I would not want to act in a way that would injure a scheme against the vile fliers, no."
She laughed. "I think I may be trusted not to tell them, yes?" She smiled mischievously.
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Weirdsound

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Re: Isle of the Young Gods: Game Thread
« Reply #314 on: August 10, 2014, 05:27:58 pm »

Pyrite nodded.

"I'd actually intended to build it underground to get around that issue, but I'm not picky. I'd also assumed I'd have to do it myself, but that's now negotiable as well, I suppose."

He smiled and tilted his head a bit.

"Speaking of which... I actually don't know that much about temples, but I was hoping mine could be a bit more functional than just being a place to pray. Or maybe wrapped in or just adjacent to something a bit more functional... such as a pleasure lounge? Or maybe a bit broader than just that; a gymnasium, for instance.

Heh. I suppose this is getting rather grandiose and expensive, though I suspect there'd be good money in some of it. As mentioned, I'm also willing to do it myself, or trade favors for you to do it. What's your take on it?"


The old man nods. "As long as you don't plan on building out of gold and marble, like Auratus is doing in Selma's Gate, I should be able to bankroll the operation. If you feel it appropriate, you could repay me by getting my son Timothy out of the draft, or dealing with Chance's leg in return."

"If you don't feel ready to claim an artifact just yet," he says with a grin, "we can head upstairs and enjoy some wine. My vaults just don't seem the appropriate place for a discussion with a god."

Pyrite couldn't help but be fascinated by her tale... and have his opinion of her improved somewhat. A basilisk's broodmate and lover seemed a somehow far less malicious story than he'd feared.

"I have... your price is steep, and if I might say so vague. What boon would you ask of me, and what manner of fort do you seek on the Domain Islands?"

"It has to be steep," she grins, "the Harpies only deal with female rulers who keep female gods, and they are more than worth keeping around. Letting a male deity have something for less than it is worth could be interpreted as offering tribute, and I have a feeling that breaking this seige has got to be worth a fuckload to you."

The pirate twists and rolls so that she is now lying back to back ontop of the Basilisk, who shifts its own body to accommodate. "Well... primarily female gods, but I only worship two of the harpies, which means I can have one of the boys. I'm leaning towards Auratus, as he seems interested in serving as a patron to the pirates in general."

She offers a smile, "The fort would serve mainly to drive up the price of this deal, and serve as a place to store some treasure. I'm not going to make a habit of challenging that storm you have going without good reason."

The Basilisk raises its head, and Meltip scratches it fondly. "It is the miracle that means more to me, and I think it is one that will be to your liking." She looks you up and down, grinning. "I love my children very much, but they all have their father's beast-like intellect. They cannot amount much more than guards for my treasure troves in their current state. I have a son and daughter with my fleet presently, and I would like you to make at least one of them into a suitable heir... Not that I intend to age, but death has many other ways of finding me in my present profession especially. Does that sound fair?"

"I feel it would not be hard to transport the egg itself, at least to here.

There's a ship full of explosives in the harbour here... I imagine it could be used as a weapon, if it came to it, to kill the basilisk and it's mistress with less risk. I'm sorry to ask it of you, but if the fleet leaves to the Newbellum Castle, I would not be surprised if all my fellow Bellian gods and I were permamently weakened by the encounter. Of course, I'd help in any attack

What is your plan, anyway? I would not want to act in a way that would injure a scheme against the vile fliers, no."
She laughed. "I think I may be trusted not to tell them, yes?" She smiled mischievously.

"I'm not sure if I could get the egg in myself, or if I'd be welcomed back before the siege is broken." Patches admits. "If getting it to the Chimera isn't an option, I'd advise on destroying the egg, if you think doing so wouldn't risk causing it to hatch."

She frowns at the mention of explosives. "I'm not sure how much safer a boat full of explosives would be compared to a Basilisk, they could both easily kill us... But if you fear them that much, I'll see what I can whip up to stop them."

Patches returns the sly smirk. "There is a prophecy among the vile birds; Their God-Queen's reign will be broken by a Harpy who knows its father. Harpies are very strict about only breeding using seed stolen from worthy warriors they kill in battle, and from what I have heard of Kiatown gossip, you lot have brought back a herald who may well have Harpy children. I am working on a way to find them, if they exist, but your fellows are content on raising Messel to a marriage and social standing where it would be inappropriate for him to raise barbarian bastards."
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