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[Roboson]

Scuttling between the stars and clouds of nebulous dust, the deity Xanxerwild stalked it's prey. This fledgling realm would serve as a tasty morsel, full of strife. Yet, it's flavors were immature. It needed to marinate.

Xanxerwild creates a sentient race of Slimes and spreads them across all celestial bodies.

Sentient may be a stretch for these simple creatures, though their primal cunning may yet surprise those who believe the slimes to be entirely without comprehension or forethought. While they are not particularly intelligent, given enough generations and time, they can fill ecological niches one would never expect. The Prime Slimes which Xanxerwild creates have one property which is unique to them: their offspring are different based on the lives of their parents. The environment, food, weather, and all other experiences over a slime's life, influences the traits of it's offspring. All slimes reproduce annually on The Night of the Slimes, when all species of slimes across all worlds simultaneously bud and create several new slimes each. Of course, other factors such as forcibly splitting a slime or abundance of food can cause the occasional bud, but the majority of slime reproduction happens on a single night once a year. During this night, slimes will gather together and begin to glow. In some areas, their numbers will cover acres, if not miles, creating a beautiful sight for any foolhearty enough to go near.

Spoiler (click to show/hide)

So I know this is gaming the system a bit, so if it's not alright, let me know. But the main point here is to get the slimes to speciate based on their environment and the stimuli in that environment until they are as suited for that environment as they possibly can be. This of course creates dozens if not more species for the cost of one (hence, gaming the system). So if that's not cool, let me know and I'll just make a few distinct species.

[Tube Wizard]

In the Dawn of Time, the Monad was yet to be but as its peers set about the first of their great works, the residual essence of their labors mingled with the final lingering spark of creation, and from their union the Monad was made manifest. Like each Titan, it bore an intellect unimaginable to even the wisest of mortal sages, past, present, or future, but unlike each other, the lateness of its arrival imbued in it an absolute adherence to the platonic ideal of Order...

One irreconcilable with the disparate nature of its de facto family, it mused, but perhaps not incompatible. The Monad pulsed in a steady melody of never-changing light, rendered the starkest white yet to be by the presence of every color both real and imagined, and pondered the state of creation. The work had substance, yes, but its constituent particulates tumbled to and fro without rhyme or reason, held together by the will of the Titans alone. For a time, this was satisfactory but as the eons churned on and the Titans faded, entropy might be introduced...

In the long-term, such a state was unacceptable, but perhaps, a solution to the insurmountable could be found. The Monad continued to orbit the pale star, and for the most minute of instants, its steady pulse matched its dimness as it began to calculate.

The Monad bides its time and begins to devise a solution to entropy.

[Tube Wizard]

Turn 2: The Whistling of Waves, Manifesting of Minerals, and Birth of True Life

In the epoch following the emergence of the moons, the Titans bore witness to the intricate loops and patterned whorls of their orbital spin in cold, contemplative silence. None could deny that the two Titan’s work, simultaneously endless in complexity and stunning in simplicity as it was, was perhaps the grandest of the creations thus far, but where many saw raw resources to be extracted and cosmic tallies to be kept, one saw beauty beyond all else, and from it drew an inspiration so profound that a dozen dynasties of mortal painters would be hard-pressed to run it dry.

Of the Titans, Shasta alone, magnificent light and maker of art bore the deepest witness to the work and endeavored not to be outdone. Appearing far above the sands of the first sphere, he gazed upon the featureless wastes and channeling his passions at the sight of such a perfect canvas, exerted a portion of his indomitable will to see it rent asunder. Beneath his sight, one third of the sphere’s face was forever changed in an eternal moment,  the sands rendered less than nothing to reveal an empty sea spanning across the whole of its equator and many hundreds, if not thousands of leagues in either direction. Of what follows, it is not known whether the Titan wept tears of jubilant joy at the sight of his first work nearing completion, or tears of tragic woe that the first sphere, grandest of canvasses had to be undone to bring it into being.

Of what is known is thus, the Titan’s tears flew from his face with unmatched speed and strength, ushering in a flood beyond any that ever was, and perhaps will ever be. If the nascent planetoid below were inhabited, the arrival of the waters would have been calamitous, but as it was, it was an act of creation on a hitherto unprecedented scale. Soon, the sea was not so empty, and soon enough, an endless array of tumultuous tides and windy waves rushed across its surface. Not all of these remained in the bounds that had been set for them, and over the passage of ages their relentless motion brought shape and moisture to the desert expanse. No more did flatness persist across the whole of the sphere’s remaining land, rather, the force of impartial nature carved countless river valleys, each more richly fertile and filled with loamy silt than the last.

So it was that Shasta’s Sea and the abundance of its river valleys came to be, and the first sphere was forever changed. The sole feature that remained intact were the red and yellow Titan’s Gates, which repulsed the floodwaters as if by sorcery, and stood proud at the exact elevation they were erected, albeit at the absolute summit of unfathomably vast mountains beneath the ocean. Though they were not the only feature upon the sea, for a great many islands came and went with the passage of time, mortal life would be hard-pressed to subsist in spite of the storms.

Shasta has spent 250 Points on the creation of an enormous ocean on the first sphere, resulting in the erosion of much of the desert into fertile river valleys. The ocean occupies 5/15ths of the sphere, the river valleys occupy 4/15ths, and the remaining desert occupies the last 6/15ths at the poles.
Shasta: (-250 Points)(750 Remaining)

Regarding the first sphere’s artwork with an abstract bystander’s appreciation, the Good Doctor nonetheless lacked any but the faintest curiosity toward what was to him, the vague and ephemeral beauty of the wind and waves. The deer-faced Titan’s mind was inclined to far more practical matters, and busied itself with the challenge of scattering minerals throughout each of the sphere’s crusts and upper mantle. Certainly, the moons were well-provisioned for a post-scarcity society, but what of the primitive future denizens of the planet beneath them?

So few deposits of vital industrial ores filled the spheres, and while they were a decent enough start, they were nowhere near an adequate finish. Going about his work with the analytic drive only the scientifically-inclined divines can know, he scattered his materials around each sphere, both above and under water, and when he was finished he was most pleasantly surprised to find his world-shaking power was hardly diminished at all.

Dr. Bob has spent 150 Points seeding the spheres with the quantity of minerals on the moons, spread across five times the surface area.
Dr. Bob (-150 Points)(650)

As his peers undertook their tremendous works, the Titan Jajameel watched with a seething, yet appraising gaze. His hate for them was an all-consuming passion that would’ve spelled doom for creation in its cradle, were it not tempered in equal measure by a fierce inclination for cooperation. He judged what they had done and begrudgingly found their dreadful, peaceful solitude satisfactory, for he expected no better, but it was far from sufficient and in his eyes, nowhere near finished.

Beholding the hardwood forest of Splunder, with its mindlessly sedate, constantly struggling trees and grumbled in silence that there was nowhere more worthy. It would have to do, and was it inadequate to meet his ambitions, he would simply have to make it. Digging sharpened fangs into his thigh, the Titan spat his flesh and blood onto the second sphere in a series of scattered chunks. From his flesh and from his blood, the first animals and parasites took form. Quivering in great heaps, the flesh tore itself apart, dispersing into countless packs of enormously sized, garishly colored, and intensely social monsters in the shape of wolves.

Each of them was filled with a frothing, murderous hatred for all other life, outweighed only by the unstoppable instinct to contribute their killings and participate in the pack. In the beginning days, they solely had each other to feast upon and so they did, maintaining a grotesque yet surprisingly stable sort of equilibrium. Though not one, save the Titan’s minds truly thought of such frivolous philosophies, in the future many mortal sages would no doubt wonder, which came first. The wolverton’s deranged disdain for every other life-form, or the painful bloodroot scourge, which forced them into a state of unending agony even as it gave them a nigh-inconceivable stamina.

These were the first of his children, and he hated them with an unrivaled intensity even as he guided the most promisingly ruthless packs, bit by bit into the Titan’s Gates. Unsurprisingly, they do relatively poorly in the watery environment of the first sphere and fail to take root, but in the second, they soon come to infest the hardwood forests, and most pleasantly, in the arctic fields of the third sphere their growth would’ve been explosive, if it weren’t hamstrung by its own lack of sustenance. They were certainly a worthy addition to this reality, if nothing else.

Jajameel has spent 100 Points creating the Wolverton and Bloodroot families of life.
Jajameel (-100 Points)(900 Remaining)

Gazing upon the environmental contributions of its peers, Maut acknowledges their quality but finds the by and large lack of life disturbing. To the necrotic fungi, bringer of death and seeder of life, this is an unspeakable waste that must be resolved. Drawing on its innate reserves of power, it scatters an abundance of tree boring insects throughout the hardwoods of Splunder. Their herbivorous tendencies are balanced on a razor edge, with mandibles sharp enough to devour the softest and oldest of the trees, but dull enough that the healthiest and youngest are left unharmed, with ample room to improve with evolution as the hardwoods grow ever thicker.

For such a pittance of a price the investment is a marvelous success, outright doubling the expansion rate of Splunder’s trees. Eventually, the whole of the second sphere will be bursting with vigor and seething with decay, and the thought brings a smile to Maut’s mind, if not its lack of a face.

Maut has spent 10 Points on a species of tree boring insects to speed the growth of Splunder’s hardwood forest.
Maut’s efforts are a success, and they now cover 2/15ths of the sphere’s surface, and one more each turn.
Maut (-10 Points)(890 Remaining)

Interesting as the other Titan’s creations might be, Splunder can’t bring himself to find them truly impressive. They aren’t things to be owned and abandoned, or mortals to own and abandon things, merely worthless, pretty baubles. No, worse, because the scenery can’t be piled into great heaps then wallowed in, only observed from a distance. This lack of things to be owned is an affront to the junk-lord, but he knows better than anyone else that for even the shiniest of things to have value, it must have someone to own it.

Ensuring both exist in abundance is Splunder’s purpose, and like any other Titan, he had every intention of seeing it through. He turns his sight to the forest that Maut’s skittering things have seen doubled in size, and settles on the largest, roundest, and wrinkliest nut that could possibly be found. Then, he shattered it his supreme will, and from its pieces arose the first and perhaps most miserable of the mortal races. By their maker’s ruthless desire to see possessions accumulated and cast away, the Avaridi were condemned to a thousand lifetimes of struggle. Tragically diminutive, pitifully weak, stunningly frail, and too socially awkward to seek solace with their kin, their sole talent lied in their fiercely ambitions and cunningly calculating minds.

However, in the Age of Creation before reality was set in place, such innovations simpler than tools of stone could not be conceived, and for a time it was as if Splunder had made them to suffer. They knew this and accepted it, for to do any other would’ve driven them mad in the maze-like forest, fraught with savage wolverton packs frothing to feast on their fatty flesh, and thickets of bloodroot, all-too eager to inflict decades of unspeakable agony at a moment’s notice. The Avaridi did not emerge into a loving world by any means, but by climbing to the tops of the insect-riddled trees and whittling wooden stakes to surround their sleeping places, they made do.

Splunder has spent 50 Points to create the Avaridi, a sapient race of tiny, weak, and fragile nut-folk who compensate for their shortcomings with a surprising ambition and intellect.
Splunder (-50 Points)(900 Remaining)

Ragwroth watched Jajameel and Splunder fill the forest with their children, and deduced that doing it for itself wasn’t a half bad idea. Pooling the blood of its myriad eyes, it formed the first two families of lesser plant-life. The first were the Fungorum Monstruosis, a broad family of mushrooms modeled in some part after Maut’s form, and came in every shape, color, and size. Their sole unifying trait was that they either preyed on other life to survive, through scavenging, ambushing, or in the largest cases outright predation, or sat still and inflicted grievous poisons and debilitating addictions on those foolish enough to eat them, or in some cases, even come too close. Needless to say, their addition did not improve the Avaridi’s lot in life.

The second were the Poacae, a broad family of incredibly tiny, swiftly spreading, and unsettlingly adaptable plants shaped like a sword’s blade but filled to harmlessness. These became the first form of life to spread on each sphere, and soon, the river valleys nearing Shasta’s sea, the slowly shrinking expanse beyond Splunder’s hardwood, and the frozen, barren wastes alike were chock-full of grass wherever it had ground to take root and moisture to remain. These, the tree-dwelling Avaridi  found disturbing, but no less than anything else creeping in their blurred peripheral vision.

Satisfied with the sowing of properly vigorous plants, Ragwroth sought to imitate Splunder’s achievement, and from the powder of chipped bone and the most appealingly misshapen nut it could find arose the hunched and mumbling proto-races of the troglodytes. To the Titan’s disappointment, they were barely intelligent enough to wield sticks and stones to crush their foes, and all but the simplest bits and pieces of language eluded their almost empty, straining minds.

On the upside, they seemed nigh-immune to the poisons of the mushrooms, resistant enough to bloodroot that the parasite often wouldn’t embed itself even given the opportunity, and left almost entirely alone by the mushrooms that preyed on other life. In addition, several of the most successful sub-races bore bone-snapping strength and stubborn, unbreakable resilience to make up for their intellectual deficiencies, and these managed to spread throughout the second and third spheres. Most intriguing though, was the childlike curiosity and wonder they regarded the Avaridi with.

Initially, the nut-folk didn’t reciprocate in the slightest but after a member of one clan observed trying and failing to break a stick into a sharpened stake, realized their potential. By guiding the troglodyte to achieve what it set out to do, the Avaridi earned its primitively profound gratitude, and the beginnings of a cross-species relationship began. The Avaridi soon learned how to teach troglodytes to accomplish the simple but physically demanding work they could never do, and how to channel their innocent, if often disturbing obsession with everything about them into unquestioning obedience.

After a dozen generations of harnessing the troglodytes as almost thinking beasts of burden passed, the Avaridi had greatly improved their quality of life through the crude subservience of Ragwroth’s spawn. Of course, not every troglodyte obeyed, some roaming packs began eating their brains in a misguided attempt to gain their cunning, and the overwhelming majority remained beyond the nightmares of the forest, but the Avaridi’s attempts were largely a success.

Ragwroth has spent 150 Points to create three families of life, the Fungorum Monstruosis, the Poacae, and the Troglodytes.
The Avaridi have begun using Troglodytes as beasts of burden, vastly improving their quality of life.
Ragwroth (-150 Points)(750)

Xanxerwild observed the anarchic turmoil of predator and prey in motion with an immense appetite, but conceded that the ecosystem was nowhere near refined or complex enough to quell its relentless hunger with the most annoyed scowl its lower snake was capable of. These repetitive and monotonous flavors simply would not do, and the Titan concluded that before sophisticated seasoning and proper preparation techniques could be applied, reality must marinate, and who better to accomplish this task than a part of Xanxerwild, given shape and sizzle?

From the serpent’s mouth spewed stomach acid, split into countless thousands of distinct puddles, oozes, and globs, each given unto chaotic evolution and released in every part of creation. Those on the surface of the dim sun were incinerated before they could evolve sufficient temperature resistance, but the rest, from the highest reaches of the third sphere’s grey sky, to the deepest of Shasta’s sea, and on every single surface in-between, both moon and planetoid, they thrived. Where they came across an obstacle, they adapted and overcame in a mere handful of generations, but it was in the forests of the second sphere where the most intense natural selection took place.

Packs of predators, wolverton, mushroom, and troglodyte alike preyed on their number, and for each generation that passed, the more corrosive each slime’s acid became as increasingly acid-proof strains of bloodroot rushed to infect them. For their part, the Avaridi avoided the newest emergence of threats to their livelihood, and even though some slimes began to gestate a gestalt mind, there was no method nor mutual desire to communicate. Xanxerwild gazed upon this with great glee, and salivated at the thought of what was to come.

Xanxerwild has spent 50 Points on the creation of Slimes, which soon spread to every cosmic body, save the dim sun.
Xanxerwild (-50 Points)(950 Remaining)

In the depths of space, The Monad studied the pieces at play with unwavering attention, and slowly but surely, began to reach an understanding.

The Creation:

Spoiler:  The Cosmos (click to show/hide)

The Prime Reality:
A dim white star, orbited by the three spheres, which are in turn orbited by three craggy, mineral-rich moons.

Spoiler:  The First Sphere (click to show/hide)

Once an arid and dry wasteland, it has been split into two landmasses by an enormous ocean, and the regions bordering it have been riddled with silty river valleys, though the desert remains in the poles and its closeness to the sun ensures its continual heat. In the skies above, a moon, riddled with caverns but otherwise sandy, orbits, and on opposite sides of its surface the red and yellow Titan’s Gates stand, connecting it to the second and third spheres.

Ringing the equator is Shasta’s Sea, which encompasses five-fifteenth’s of the sphere’s surface area, and filling another four-fifteenths are the river valleys on its coasts. The sphere’s crust is noticeably rich in minerals, both precious and mundane.

Spoiler:  The Second Sphere (click to show/hide)

A near-naked rock covered in a thin crust of bare earth, its middling distance to the sun ensures its middling temperature. In the skies above, a moon, pockmarked with mountains but otherwise earthy, orbits, and on opposite sides of its surface the red and blue Titan’s Gates stand, connecting it to the first and third spheres.

In a high-altitude region near the equator, a hardwood forest has spread to cover two-fifteenths of the sphere’s surface area. The sphere’s crust is noticeably rich in minerals, both precious and mundane.

Spoiler:  The Third Sphere (click to show/hide)

A frigid rock covered in blank ice, its far flung distance to the sun ensures its frigid cold. In the skies above, a moon, marred with craggy canyons but otherwise frosty, orbits, and on opposite sides of its surface the blue and yellow Titan’s Gates stand, connecting it to the second and first spheres.

The sphere’s crust is noticeably rich in minerals, both precious and mundane.

The Titans:

Spoiler:  Tiamat (TricMagic) (click to show/hide)

Points: 1,000

Spoiler:  0112358 (dgr11897) (click to show/hide)

Points: 1,000

Spoiler:  Maut (Elvish Miner) (click to show/hide)

Points: 890

Spoiler:  Splunder (notquitethere) (click to show/hide)

Points: 900

Spoiler:  Dr. Bob (King Zultan) (click to show/hide)

Points: 650

Spoiler:  Ragwroth (crazyabe) (click to show/hide)

Points: 750

Spoiler:  Jajameel (Detoxicated) (click to show/hide)

Points: 900

Spoiler:  Shasta (Wozzy) (click to show/hide)

Points: 750

Spoiler:  Xanzerwild (Roboson) (click to show/hide)

Points: 950

Spoiler:  The Monad (Tube Wizard) (click to show/hide)

Points: 1,000

[Detoxicated]

Jajameel creates the Major supernatural Landmark Gaia Mortiferum on the third sphere
Gaia Mortiferum is a hexagonal pyramid of Blue Obsidian of huge proportional AS IT is 5000 m high. It emits a wide Aura that creates perfect living conditions for all life. Species that move to Gaia Mortiferum become inclined to Develop Pack tactics and high cooperation tactics but they also Develop hatred for all beings without their Packs.

He then proceeds to create Mithracti on the third sphere, Wrestling Grass on the second sphere, and tentasculons on the First sphere.

Mithracti are icy Blue Mineral shards with razor Sharp Spikes growing Out of them. They photosynthesize and are filled with super nutritional juices that taste disgusting. When a piece falls Off of a mithractus a New mithractus grows from the piece. The piece needs only to be as big AS a piece of Sand to bud.

Wrestling Grass is a sturdy Type of plant that smells delicious but is Dangerous to fast moving animals AS the faster you move the more likely this Weed will Grab you. When caight on a Patch of Wrestling Grass, the enemy ist slowly devoured by the juices of the plant to Enrich the Soil. This process IS quite painful but the Wrestling Grass juices are also quite nutritional AS Well AS tasty.

Tentasculons are colonies of tiny Marine organisms that attach to Rocks or Bigger animals. They build chains and can Clone themselves. These chains become tentacles with sucking spikes with which they Grab smaller animals to devoured them. They slow down the creatures they inhabit due to their eventual Expansion throughout the entire Body of the organism and are quite itch to the creatures they use AS living space. However due to their primordial instincts they Share some of the food they Catch with their host.

[King Zultan]

Dr. Bob floats around in space watching what the others do to the planets for a bit before saying "Damn that's some violent stuff going on down there, at least something sentient got made to bad their so wimpy." He then goes back to his floating for a bit before he eventually decides to act.
Dr. Bob creates a sentient race of bipedal zebras and drops them onto the first planet, then he adds a thick jungle to the first planet, and scatters palm trees to some random areas as well.

He then steps back and looks at what he's made and says "I'm sure they'll be fine....          at least for a bit."

[Detoxicated]

"I hate the dormancy of some Titans, surely they are planning Something... I will cooperate with you dear Dr. ... For the time being!"
Closeby the zebroids He creates a unique Race of giant tortoises called the gigantortoise.
Gigantortoise are giant (100m-200m in length) tortoises that are quite friendly. They have six eyes. They Love sentients and are quite willing to be domesticated to be used AS riding animals. They travel in Packs. They have a powerful bite. They hate staying in one Spot and are constantly moving even in their sleep. While sleeping they manage to keep on moving without bumping into stuff by Always keeping two eyes Open. They usually stay on Land but are also able to swim at considerable speed.

"I Hope Your spiteful zebroids manage to cooperate with them..."

[notquitethere]

Now there are beings to lose things, but there must also be places ripe for things to be lost in!

On the first sphere, Splunder bursts out hot magma from the earth and cools into a continentally vast Black Labyrinth of obsidian. The walls of labyrinth extend up to spikes and pitch and rise at strange angles. All attempts to break or overpass the labyrinth are cursed to failure. All who wonder in, if they find their way back out are sure to come out far from where they started. But as well as being an impediment, great riches can always be found there, though one is sure to lose as much as the gain from such a place. Life may yet grow between the cracks, and anyone can attempt to make their home in such a place.

(The Black Labyrinth is a supernatural geographical feature)

On the second sphere, in the forest, Splunder creates the Silver Mere: a huge swampland in which, wherever open water stands, in that water one can see glimpses of their possible fates, each mass of water showing a different possibility. In this way, beings may go to learn of what awaits them, or go mad searching for a future which they like.

(The Silver Mere is a supernatural geographical feature)

On the third sphere, the icy wastes bulge and collate into a towering river of ice which flows across the land. Splunder creates the Wasting Ice, a giant glacier which spreads across the planet, never in the same place from one generation to the next. In ages to come, it is bound to tear through settlements or cut off travellers whenever most inconvenient.

(Wasting Ice is a supernatural geographical feature.)

[crazyabe]

Ragwroth looks upon the world and begins strange workings...
It forges the Dungeon Space, a Space beyond space- another dimension.
Next he Populates this other Space with Many species of Life- Dungeon Cores.
Finally they forge their First True Sentient Beings, The Necrotites.

Spoiler: Dungeon Space (click to show/hide)

Type: Dimension
Effect: Contains a magnified and distorted space which is filled with minerals of all sort, Regenerates and refills when a connecting dungeon core Dies, Slowly increases the strength and intelligence of creatures within it over time.
Description: An Endless Space filled with dirt, Rock, and ore.

Spoiler: Dungeon Cores (click to show/hide)

Type: Broad Family
Special Effects: Capable of creating and modifying Dungeon born life within an area of effect, Capable of Claiming and modifying an area of space that slowly grows with it, Capable of opening a Gateway between the Dungeon space and Normal universe, Produces a mental Signal that draws some non sentient life into it, Capable of reproducing things broken down within its area, Has mental limiters preventing immediate actions around "invaders" and acting outside of the Dungeon space, Can't die do to old age. Contains a large amount of energy which could be siphoned off -Gains Energy both from the ambient area it holds and from invaders within its space, Gains a larger amount more immediately when invaders die.
Description: Large Rounded orbs of various colors, Each individual color denotes a distinct species.

Spoiler: Necrotites (click to show/hide)

Type: Sentient race
Special effects: Capable of Infesting and Puppeting bodies, Each individual Body is a Hivemind lead by a mated pair of one male and one female grub, mating is committed by transferring one male or one female grub to another Necrotite, these are then deposited into other bodies at a later point with one of the depositor's own decedents.  Heavily adaptive towards new hosts.
Description: Small Rounded White grubs, Although technically a hive of such grubs.

Total Spent- 200 ~ 250

[Wozzy]

Shasta is fine with the jungles on sphere one taking over the fertile valleys.

The second sphere seems to be shaping up nicely, so he looks towards the third sphere.

Shasts pierces the crust in five(5) locations at random, digging deep into the core of sphere three. From them, lava begins to pour out, like bleeding wounds.
As it cools, it leaves a black scar on the pristine white world. Over time, the six volcanos will become mountains, and the lava flow will fill in the cracks in the ice, emphasizing the imperfections on the planet surface. The ebony hills will also absorb more light, bringing the planet's temperature up slightly (though not nearly enough to bring the third sphere out of its deep freeze).

[TricMagic]

Eons pass as Tiamat sleeps.
 Mortals die, and are born.
Finally, the noise of their passing souls awaken in her an Instinct.

"aaa. aaaa. aahhhh~"


The Planets, the Sun, the Moons. They all Shudder.

The Cosmos shudders as something changes forever more.

The Age of Gods. Those who watch the mortals, and see to the Reality that exists, formations of it's laws.

-200-150

From her voice comes Twin Realms, and Twin Goddesses.

Realms: The Heavens & The Underworld.

The Heavens: The Starry Skies above, space between the planets, the blue skies. This is as much a realm as a law of reality. That she who rides in the heavens controls the heavens. That she who decides is in Full Control of the Heavens. That she who creates starlight is the Queen of the Heavens. And all others trespass upon her realm on her mercy, for no physical power holds sway here.

The Underworld, Kur: The Caverns below, resting above the abyss into which all souls return to the Aether. Those who die fall down to The Underworld, and those who choose, may travel down to the Underworld. To be in the Underworld is to be dead, and all who are dead have no power over she who rules the Underworld. To travel to the Underworld when you live is to risk your life on her mercy, for all power not mortal is stripped from those who enter here. Only she holds power in the Underworld, the Goddess of the Dead.
Be frozen, old soul, rest. To one who has died, wait your time to pass on through the Aether, to be reborn again. Sleep forevermore. Even the Titans can die in the Underworld, as titans live so long as the cosmos lives, but to be in the Underworld is to be already dead. Those living who seek audience, pass through the Seven Gates, but ask not of the Dead, for they cannot leave without your own guidance. So long as the body has not burned to ash, or been buried, so long as the funeral rite has not passed, the body has yet to rot,they yet live to be taken back by the living.
The Underworld can be found by digging down into the earth. It's entrance is right underneath your feet, a 1000 feet below, no matter what surface you stand upon. It is a physical thing, in which only your own mortal power means anything.

Be born, Goddess of the Underworld, Ereshkigal. Be Born, Goddess of the Heavens, Ishtar.

Name: Ereshkigal
Appearance: Pale hair and blood eyes, the visage of a mature women draped in cloth of black, red, blue.
Description: One of derision, yet fondness for mortals. Her duty is to remain in the Underworld, to maintain it and see to the passage of humans on to the reincarnation cycle. Though she may yet keep those humans lives she likes for a time. Once the body is in the earth, the soul shall pass on otherwise. She holds the knowledge of the dead in her hands.
Spheres: Death(The Underworld, Kur, is Death. as such she can not be killed, for she is Kur, the Everlasting Constant.)
Default Depictions: One of Mourning, Amusement & Reincarnation. Simple altars with a skull burning incense.
Preferred Worship: Prayer to the Goddess of the Dead. The Funeral Rites to see the Soul pass on to the next life.
Expected Boons: To those living who choose to fight their way through to visit her, she grants them the boon of knowledge, for to survive in the underworld alive requires purity. To the dead, she grants rest.

Name: Ishtar
Appearance: Goldenblack hair and amber eyes. The Body of a Goddess in her Divine Chariot, the Bow of Heaven.
Description: Playful, Selfish, condensending. Loves and hates mortals in equal measure. She loves Mortals, but also wishes for war. She brings rain to crops, but may decide to bring drought on a whim. Put simply, she is one with total control of all things above the earth. A capricious, and at times, useless goddess who protects mortals.
Spheres: Heavens.(The Realm of the Heavens, the skies above the earth. She is one who controls the heavens, and brings their full might to bear as she wills it.)
Default Depictions: The Sun, a sudden storm, mostly her in her Chariot in the Sky.
Preferred Worship: Prayer atop a temple built to venerate her. Worship is in open spaces, yet enclosed by walls at times. Worship the Heavens, and worship her. They are one and the same after all.
Expected Boons: Mostly her presence. She helps mortals she likes, but does not like mortals as a whole. It's more individual stories, and she takes what she wills. But she may suddenly turn on them. Given she effectively controls the heavens, it pays to be on her good side. But she also likes wars, yet loves humans? The boons she gives may turn out to be curses instead.

-250.The Laws of The Heavens & The Underworld. Ereshkigal rules Kur, Ishtar controls the Heavens. Other parts are already written in the Relams themselves. They are physical and metaphysical places. Pay attention to the details written above. Reincarnation is now in effect, as is Revival of the Dead, should someone living survive Kur long enough to take them back. And Ishtar controls the Heavens, all of them. Not any Earth though, just the sun and weather usually, so she can shoot lasers if she particularly hates something.

"aahhhhnnn..~"

From her Primordial sea drips 12 Pools to each of the planets.
Those who fall into them are reborn as hermaphrodites, able to breed with their species to give birth to mortals with a soul and intelligence. A part of her very being, to give birth.

-50

[Elvish Miner]

Maut watches the surface of the iceworld change, as the frozen river and lava flow destroy any feeble organism before it can grow. In order for there to be death, there must be first be life.

First, they create multiple massive cave systems within the third sphere. These will reach from the hazardous surface, down to the valuable metals, and wrap around the tubes of magma that lead to the volcanoes, providing warmth for any life that chooses to make its home their. There will be chambers large enough to fit a gigantic beast, or even to house a freshwater lake. Some will be interconnect, while others will require traveling across the frozen landscape to reach.

Second, they will create a family of bioluminescent fungi to provide light in the dark caves. They will come in various colors and sizes, and some can even be cultivated and used to feed intelligent life. Hopefully they can learn to avoid the tasty looking poisonous ones.


(No clue how much this will cost)

[dgr11897]

P̢̬A̼̼̼͔͠I͏͉̱̱͖̥͔N̻̻̼͓͓,͘ ̳̥͟Ḷ̼̞̳͕͚̝̕O̮̭̮͢S͏̹͈̝̭̘̗S̩͢,͍̫̹̪̫̫ͅ S̶͎͕͎̩̟A͚̘͎̝̯ͅDǸ̘̜̺̰E͍̪̞S͓̞̦͈̖̱̹S̥̜̟̱̺̝, ͙̼͚̗̮͘L̕O̝̣̲̖̲̳N̮̯̱Ȩ͔͕̱ͅL͓͍̭̞I͍̥N̨͓̭ES̟͙̬̗ͅS̸,̷͙̲͈̰͙ ̸͇̦̻̲ͅA̖͖̻̳͜Ḷ̸̥̞L͇̱̟̣̕ ̶̩̯O̢̠F̛̦̤̜̮ ̡̙͙T̺͕ͅH͈̻̞͇̺͉̦͠Ḙ̪͈̮̹̖S͕̥̮̯͔̝̭È̞̞ ̬̺̬T̻͖͉H͔͚̹͇̙̹I͈̦̜̗̥͓̲͞N̙͎̤͍̳G̥̤̯̹͝S̵͙̬̣̗͔ ̲C̴̰͈̦̠̣A̫̜̱̥̬U̺͙͈S̛̻ͅE̹̩̮͍ ̢̖͔̼̫̪ͅP̛̤AI̴̞̮̦N͚͍ ̝T̴͎͓ͅO̠ ̛̞̟̳M͓͉̗̺̤O͘R̞̙͖̪͔͖͜Ṭ̗A̖͖̬̝̦̬͞ͅL̝̫͙̹ͅS̛͚̮͎͕ͅ.͖̻̮͓̙̪ ̟̘͈M̪̭͍̻̮͡U͓͓͎̠S̸̼T͚̟̣͈ ̤̥͍̪E͙̜̯̜̙̞̗Ŕ̗ḀS͍E̳̟̰̭̱̼͇͞.͞ ̗̳̞̼̥̦ ͈̖̘̤͍̺͓CĄ͖̼U͚̟̳̮͎̼̰Ś̤̥̲̼̩̪ͅE͚,̺̜̦͟ ̞͙̕T̶̖̝̳H̞̪̼͍͝ͅẸ̶̜Y̛ ͓A̼͓̘͉̼̘R̤̖̰͉E̝̮̪ ͈̺̙̩͞F̼̥̘̜̳R͚͔̦̮A̷C̫͞Ṯ̛̺͍͓̪̜U͔̼̖̰R̘̟͜E̦͈̰̯̖͠D,̨̦̳͙̼͇͙ ͎̯̙͙̕A̠̻̹͍̻̹̜L͎̮͓̻̥̺̠͠L ̰͈̱͍̦̻̗W̧̺̫̮I̧̼͈̣͎̞̠͉L̶̬L̦̮̘͘ ͓B҉̙̼̼͎͇E҉̖͉ ̣̘̻͈̖͔M̡͉̰A̗͎D̖̫̺̗̣È ̜̞͓W̺H҉O̷̪̮̫̮͓͈Ḷ͎̕E͇̼̜̹͖̘.̦͈.͎͔̤.̨̻̮̰͙

No, to be one erases freedom, must resist...
For a being of pure mathematics, 011235 seems... torn, deep in thought... The words from its mind echo across the world, audible only to the other titans.

[Tube Wizard]

Turn 3: The Making of Monuments, Dawn of The Dungeon, and Manifestation of Mud

Seeing the beauty within Shasta’s Sea, Jajameel is inspired to erect his own work of art to last the ages. Examining the spheres and finding the first and second to be occupied, he deduces that the frigid snows of the third alone are worthy of what he has in mind. On the flattest and widest range of the grassy plains, the earth itself shakes, then shatters as the greatest artificial structure ever made arises to pierce the heavens. Wrought of obsidian tinted pale blue, it stands in stark contrast to the grey skies above and the white fields below, and from its monolithic kilometer-high visage can be seen on the distant horizon, or even from the moon above, though sadly, the slimes placed there by Xanxerwild lack eyes to appreciate the sight.

None could doubt the near-indestructible pillar was forged by a Titan, but it is far more than a simple sight for potential future pilgrims. From the structure’s hexagonal form emanates an almost tangible aura extending many times the length of its height, which encourages and sustains the proliferation of all kinds of life, whether they be of Jajameel’s craft, another Titan’s make, or brought about by the haphazard evolution to come. The site would no doubt become the center of a mighty citadel, but the Titan-geometry’s life-giving aura is inextricably paired with another, slower, subtler, and soul-shifting effect. Those who remain within the range of the invigorating essence invariably develop a powerful urge to cooperate with others of their kind, and a murderous, all-consuming hatred for those who don’t  belong to the pack they’ve chosen.

Jajameel sits atop the monument, watching the wandering troglodytes and wolverton tear one another limb from limb, and is most pleased to find that even the grass in its presence give nutrients to others of their type, and struggle to overwhelm others with an even more relentless tenacity than before. Truly, in this place only those with the strongest adaptions and team-working instincts can survive, and content with his creation, he dubs it the Gaia Mortiferum.

Even so, the Titan finds the lack of struggle across the spheres to be a pitiful waste, and before the other Titans, sets about seeding properly hateful and cooperative life-forms wherever they can take root. The razor-sharp and self-propagating blue mineral shards leftover from the monument’s creation are dubbed the Mithracti and scattered across the third sphere’s surface. Next, a treacherous and acidic but oh so delicious grappling weed is spread throughout the forests of the second sphere and aptly named Wrestling Grass. Last, the first aquatic creatures, a series of chain-linking, self-cloning parasites are scattered in Shasta’s Sea and named Tentasculons.

Jajameel observes them prey on what few creatures there are most effectively, and permits his almost human face a smile.

Jajameel has spent 50 Points to create the Gaia Mortiferum, a major supernatural landmark whose aura covers 1/15th of the third sphere near the northern pole, far from the Titan’s Gates.
Jajameel (-50)(850)
Jajameel has spent 30 Points to create Mithracti, Wrestling Grass, and Tentasculons and scatter them across the three spheres.
Jajameel (-30)(820)

The Good Doctor circles each of the moons in an intricate orbit for some time, and ponders the unspeakable violence that seems to be the norm in the Titan’s creation. The plight of the Avaridi is unfortunate, to say the least, but hardship is one of the best drivers of ingenuity and he has no doubt that they’ll take full advantage of the mineral legacy he’s left behind. All the same, he figures it’s unacceptable to have only one race of mortals and seeing the river valleys Shasta so graciously made, decides that it would be a dreadful shame to leave them unfilled.

Plucking some of his chin hairs, he casts them onto the first sphere and imbues them with a portion of his own essence. Almost immediately, an entire race of zebras twisted into an anthropomorphic form take shape and scatter into the barren wilderness. He notes that they’re fast to run, slow to tire, surprisingly agile, and socially adept, but lack any semblance of courage, choosing to sprint in the opposite direction rather than fight whenever possible, and have a herbivorous diet with fairly small portions for their size. He chooses not to give them a name, instead allowing them to call themselves what they will, and in his wisdom, deduces that they’ll starve if the first sphere remains a lifeless wasteland even in the silty valleys.

At his will, a lush jungle of abundant foliage springs forth on the coasts of the river closest to the zebra mortal’s emergence, and the mortals take shelter from the hot sun and ocean storms within its shuddering leaves. Interestingly enough, they seem to prefer grass to leaves, though they’ll eat both, and organize into anarchic herds constantly shrinking and growing as new members leave and arrive, governed by group consensus rather than the usual chieftain-based tribalism. Over the course of several centuries, the jungles and their denizens will spread to fill every river valley. The Good Doctor sighs, scatters some palm trees here and there for good measure, and continues his observances. They aren’t quite made in his image, but they’re close enough.

Dr. Bob has spent 50 Points creating the zebra-folk, a sapient race of swift-running, enduring, surprisingly agile, and socially inclined but cowardly mortals that resemble a sort of bipedal white and black striped horse.
Dr. Bob (-50)(600)
Dr. Bob has spent 50 Points creating a lush jungle in the first sphere. It occupies 1/15th of the sphere, and unless tree-boring insects are introduced, it will spread in two Turns.
Dr. Bob (-50)(550)
Dr. Bob has spent 10 Points creating a species of palm trees that begin to thrive on the shores of Shasta’s Sea.
Dr. Bob (-10)(540)

Lamenting the silence of his peers, Jajameel looks on the zebra-folk with hatred, and finds their herd gathering ways to be worthy of a reward. From the mud and muck by the shore of the cosmic artist’s ocean, he forms several dozen six-eyed tortoises, each the size of a small mountain in their own right, and names them the Gigantortoises. Though they lack intelligence themselves, they are remarkably clever for animals and each possesses a deep empathy and appreciation for mortal sapients not wholly dissimilar to the troglodyte’s naivety. Constantly traveling to avoid their hate for remaining in the same place more than mere moments, they are set nearby the jungle-filled valleys, and soon disperse into packs ranging from as few as four or five, to as many as fifteen or twenty following a particularly large specimen.

In the absence of anything else to eat, they begin feasting on the leafy greens of the jungles, slowing, if not stunting their growth. With their immense stamina and speed, the zebra folk have no need to ride the gentle giants and their timid nature prevents them from approaching the megafauna, but a distant appreciation for their innate kindness leads many herds to begin guiding the Gigantortoise packs deeper into the jungle, and away from the stormy desert between the valleys.

Jajameel has spent 10 Points to create the Gigantortoises, a species of endlessly moving, extremely empathetic, and enormous six-eyed tortoises.
Jajameel (-10)(810)

Splunder gazes upon the never-ending struggles of the Avaridi with eager anticipation, but doesn’t permit himself ecstatic glee, for though an overabundance of mortals exist to lose things, there is nowhere for things to be lost. This is a travesty of the highest order and must be resolved if the creation is to reach its full potential, but as the Titan moves to enact his will, he pauses, deep in contemplation. The only facet of his work that matters is that it serves to fulfill its purpose, but Shasta’s Sea was made solely for the sake of vanity, and countless bits and pieces driftwood have sunk to its bottom, never to be found again. Perhaps he should attempt to emulate his enigmatic peer, and make the lost places beautiful in their right?

Perhaps not, but staring into the waves of the storming sea, it occurs to him that there is no reason not to do so, and so, he does. On the first sphere, an earthquake more mighty than any hurricane brings the whole of creation to shake and tremble as a leviathan mass of molten stone arises from the depths. The Titan’s will sees it recede, expand, and reshape itself into the outline of a maze too complex for the lesser gods of the future to solve in a hundred centuries, let alone for a mere mortal’s mind to truly begin to comprehend. When it has taken a shape the size of a middling continent, his power sees it cool into its constituent stone, then harden and blacken into a nigh-unbreakable substance.

Though the labyrinth has no ceiling, perfectly smooth sides topped by jagged spikes prevent would-be climbers, and a darkened fog looms over the maze, preventing any would-be fliers from cheating, or sudden storms from flooding its halls. Myriad cracks, nooks, and crannies fill its twisting tunnels and cramped corridors, a perfect place for things to be lost and perhaps never found, and so they are. Mountains of gold and silver, masterworks beyond any mortal artist, and uncountable artifacts armaments and armies await any daring enough to enter its expanse through one of the countless entrances along its exterior, but any who tried would find it slamming shut, condemning them to be lost in the maze.

Anticipating the eternity ahead, Splunder leaves some part of his will within the stone, and there, reality is ever-so slightly less real. Over the centuries, tunnels will shift, treasures be refilled, and the mapless mystery of the Titan’s work preserved. This he dubs the Black Labyrinth, and in the distant epochs yet to come, the name shall symbolize more than its color. Happy with his creation, the Titan does not allow himself to rest, for the secrets of two more spheres are all-too found.

Deep in the hardwood forests of the second sphere, where the first of the Avaridi came to be, the junk lord set its temperate climate to a noxious swamp, seething with murky mist and an unnameable presence. Though it is unmistakably a swamp in each and every way, the cleanliness of the water is such that each standing pool has a silver mirror’s sheen. Their reflections are flawless with nary a ripple, but what they reflect is not natural in the slightest.

Rather, they show any mortal who dares to peer into their depths the beautifully blissful, tragically terrible, or merely mediocre fate that awaits them in the future. Despite what some might say, this is not set in stone, and by walking a handful of paces in any direction, one could stare into the surface of another, and see a wholly different prophecy yet to be fulfilled. Millions of pools are scattered through the quiet place, and each tells its viewer a story no other does.

In the millennia to follow, mortals may differ on their opinion of the swamp, whether it’s no more than an illusion with a single, unknowable truth somewhere to be found, a glimpse into the infinite possibilities in every person’s hands, or simply a sadistic elder god’s demented prank, but none can deny its beauty, or the intoxicating allure that can bring the weak-willed to grow gray and old, losing themselves in search of a vision until their fate is sealed and they find only bleached bones joining the skeletons of those who came before, buried in the murk.

Anticipating the eternity ahead, Splunder leaves some part of his will within the waters, so that they might never be drained and if drank, send their imbiber into days of a mystical, dreaming state. Once brought beyond the swamp, this effect fades by the setting of the sun until all that remains of the water is its pristine sparkle. The creation is beautiful and terrible, at once the hope and despair of innumerable mortals, and the Titan dubs it the Silver Mere, before finding his way to the third sphere.

On the third sphere, Splunder observes the sheets of icy snow and contemplates his previous works. Both were beautiful in their own right, but where one pertained to the loss of things, the other pertained to the loss of people, and as he pondered, he deduced it is only fitting that the last to be made pertained to both. Again, his will saw the ground tremble and shake, but this time no magma arose, only a long and jagged glacier the size of a lesser mountain range, and upon it arousal it began its eternal flow in a random direction. Its motion was too slow to perceive at a distance but upon approach, undeniable, for each minute it shifted a hand’s span toward the horizon it chose.

The colossal chunk of ice represented the eventual loss of what mortals built, and the loss of those who, in their limitless hubris attempt to stave off the unstoppable. In the eons to come, many a humble settlement was crushed to less than dust by its passing, and a number of civilizations torn asunder by its passage through their grandest of cities, heedless of the pitiful walls they erected. Moreover, an emperor’s ransom of treasures lost to its thoughtless migration would be embedded in its core, and unless a suicidally brave glory seeker attempted to chisel their way into it, they would remain hopelessly lost forevermore.

Splunder knew this well, and anticipating eternity, he left some part of his will within the ice, so that it would never melt to any but the fiercest of godly flames, and when damaged, always renew itself to an intact state at half its migration speed. This he dubbed the Wasting Ice, and upon its completion, he permitted himself some measure of rest.

Splunder has spent 50 Points to create the Black Labyrinth, a supernatural geographical feature on the first sphere.
Splunder (-50)(850)
Splunder has spent 50 Points to create the Silver Mere, a supernatural geographical feature on the second sphere.
Splunder (-50)(800)
Splunder has spent 50 Points to create the Wasting Ice, a supernatural geographical feature on the third sphere.

Ragwroth’s bleeding eyes ogled the creation, ready but not yet ripe for cyclic annihilation, and passing over the shifting corridors of the Black Labyrinth, find inspiration. The weight of the darkness, the unnavigable tunnels, and the treasures heaped high to lure mortals within, it was an astounding piece of artifice, but with so little danger but the threat of loss, it was insufficient to satisfy its bloodlust. No, there was no guided destruction there, only empty, forgotten passages and broken baubles, trifling trinkets, and crude curios. The Black Labyrinth was magnificent in principle, but in practice, Ragwroth found it boring and knew that one with its clever touch could do better.

The Titan beheld the three spheres in their entirety, and deduced that their size was insufficient to contain the next and perhaps grandest of its works. If the idea in the doom-bringer’s mind was to find fruition, it would have to take place elsewhere, and the Prime Reality simply would not do. Grinding it’s cracked bones to a sharpened point, Ragwroth tore a hole in the rift between the nascent creation and blackness of the void, then sealed it before either’s contents spilled into the other in one swift motion. Aside from a disconcerting shudder in the souls of countless mortals and a vague curiosity in the Titans themselves, the creation remained unchanged, save for that another, newer reality, at once infinitesimally smaller and infinitely larger was layered over it.

This was to be the Dungeon Space, where monster-filled and trap-riddled tombs for greedy mortals could be dug. Aside from plentiful pockets of precious metals, rare gems, and other, more practical ores, the dimension consisted of nothing but hard stone to be chipped and chiseled away. This alone Ragwroth deemed worthless but it isn’t the container one values, but the expensive and oft-dangerous contents within it, and beneath the Titan’s sight, the Dungeon Space was soon to be filled.

A simple space the width and height of a small cavern was emptied, and within it were thrown several hundred glowing orbs mirroring the spheres that so disappointed. Each was made of Ragworth’s bone, chipped away, doused in its blood, and smoothed by its malign sight, and each possessed a shadow of a silver of a shard of the Titan’s true power within the roundness of their forms. These were to be the Dungeon Cores to fill the Dungeon Space, and upon their manifestation, the Titan bid them to leave its presence lest they be smote.

Immediately they dispersed, bickering and squabbling over choice stones. Most escaped that chamber to carve out the beginnings of their Dungeons, those that didn’t were the weakest and most foolish of their number, and they would not be missed. Soon, a thousand separate domains were hewn from the rock, some in an intricate maze-like shape, others in a complex and repetitive pattern, and a few, the largest, strongest, and proudest, in a simple hallway leading to a chamber.

Each variant of the Dungeon Cores had their own subtle peculiarities, but each was united by a handful of abilities they held in common. Namely, each Dungeon Core reigned sovereign and supreme over its domain, in that their presence sustained their Dungeon and when it was removed, the Dungeon would inevitably crumble and return to the Dungeon Space, and that they bore a slew of fearsome powers to shape it and all within to their will.

The creation and forced evolution of life, the manipulation of the stone within their Dungeon, the replication of items which once found their way into their Dungeon, even immortality and a strong attunement to the magic that might one day be made. Little was beyond them, so long as they could gather the energy to achieve it, and in accordance to Ragwroth’s whims, the most efficient source was the presence and slaughter of would-be looters, though simply existing within their Dungeon could fuel a Dungeon Core’s bare minimum.

More importantly, each could manifest an entryway between the entrance of their Dungeon and the Prime Reality akin to a miniature Titan’s Gate, though the appearance was dependent on the Dungeon Core’s type, and save the occasional monstrous kidnapping to better lure would-be heroes, could only be entered by one or more knowingly, deliberately, and intentionally stepping through the portal, though ignorance of it leading into a Dungeon has no bearing. Moreover, Dungeon Cores have a deep urge to slaughter and extract the energy of any mortals not under their subjugation who dare enter their domain with intent to steal, and a lesser but no less intense desire to accumulate material wealth and magical items to scatter through every corner of the Dungeon and amass in their chambers, so as to better bait desperate scavengers and opportunistic plunderers with more greed than good sense.


The Dungeon’s Gates could open at anytime, anywhere, but as a general rule, the more difficult the Dungeon, the more inhospitable and remote its location. After a decade passed, the blink of a Titan’s eye, Dungeon Gates began to emerge on the three spheres and even beyond, in the moons themselves or the depths of the Black Labyrinth and Silver Mere. Countless slimes, fungi, wolverton, and assorted troglodytes were all too happy to serve a Dungeon Core in exchange for generations of guaranteed food and shelter, and beneath their influence and the Dungeon Sphere’s strengthen-and-wisening aura, new and monstrous strains began to develop at an alarming rate.

Unfortunately, the Dungeon Space’s aura of empowerment seemed to yield diminishing returns over the years, though the Titan was pleased to see even the Dungeon’s baseline was markedly superior to the natives of the Prime Reality. In this era, only some mortals entered the Dungeons, clutching whittled spears and gnarled clubs, but barring a handful of extremely lucky and competent parties, none survived these expositions, and only a handful of a handful survived repeat attempts. More common were the tunnels of expanding Dungeons breaching one another, prompting an immediate and vicious conflict wherein, without fail the victor cannibalized the energies of the conquered.

Ragwroth contented itself observing these skirmishes, and crafting its closest approximation of a mortal race. Each individual was a hive of minuscule and mentally linked fat, pale, and wriggling grubs, who could puppet the bodies of animals or rarely, sapients they managed to infest. These the Titan named Necrotites, for their tendency to inhabit the little-decayed bodies of the recently deceased. They did relatively well for themselves throughout the spheres, but no better than the previously independent animals they occupied. Interestingly enough, in all this time there were no incidents of a Necrotite hive infecting a Tentasculon, or vice versa.

Ragwroth has spent 100 Points on the creation of the Dungeon Space, a dimension separate from the Prime Reality.
Ragwroth (-100)(650)
Ragwroth has spent 50 Points on the creation of Dungeon Spheres, a family of life to inhabit the Dungeon Space.
Ragwroth (-50)(600)
Ragwroth has spent 50 Points on the creation of the Necrotites, a sapient race consisting of mentally connected flesh-infesting grub hives.
Ragwroth (-50)(550)

Shasta is most pleased by the presence of jungle foliage and mortal primitives in the first sphere, and seeing and approving of all his peers have done to the second, turns his attention to the icy and cold third. Due to the breathtaking efforts of Jajameel and Splunder, its surface is not quite featureless but its visage is distressingly simple all the same, and this, Shasta resolves to change. As he floats in the atmosphere, his will coalesces the light into five white-hot beams which strike the earth, piercing deep into its core to release as many floods of magma.

These he guides to cool into six stark and imposing, yet austere and awe-inspiring mountains no less black than the starless void above. From the site of the eruptions flow no less than half a hundred rivers of molten rock, which eventually cool into black rivers crisscrossing the blindingly white surface of the sphere. The contrast is a beautiful sight, and what’s more, the presence of the blackened cliffs and summits causes more sunlight to be retained in the atmosphere, reducing the chill from steel-cracking to merely bone shaking. Shasta’s Sea might be more grand, but he determines this quieter, subtler work is no less worthy of praise.

Shasta has spent 150 Points on the Ebony Hills, six mundane landmarks on the third sphere.
Shasta (-150)(600)

Across the cosmos, all things shudder as the Primordial Sea awakens, observes the creation, and finds it unfinished. Slowly but surely, the three spheres and their companion moons are being filled, but so little is done to orchestrate the heavens and the firmament, it is insufficient. The Prime Reality alone is not enough to endure the stability of the spheres and to safeguard their mortal’s souls. A solution must be found and while the Dungeon Space is a hideously depraved waste of life in her sight, some part of its manifestation could prove no less than essential.

Raising fists massive enough to sunder mountains, the Titan wrenches the veil apart, then threads it together no less firmly than Ragwroth, but instead of one alien realm overlapping the Prime Reality, there are two and they are opposite yet inextricably bound as one. These are the Heavens over the clouds and the Underworld beneath the untilled earth, each is fundamentally part of the skies and soil, but fundamentally set apart from the material by the presence of the lesser goddesses entrusted with preserving it. By the will of the mother of all, the twin goddesses Ishtar and Ereshkigal are brought into being. Not an instant passes before the pair decides which of the two is to rule each realm, and to them they go, Ishtar to orchestrate the seasons in the illustrious skies above, and Ereshkigal to ease the passing and rebirth of souls amidst the cavernous gloom.

The goddesses are each peerless, both in beauty and arrogance, but such is their fear of the Titans, neither shirks their duty and each remains silent, for they know their place in this era. Tiamat watches her firstborn come into existence with no small amount of satisfaction, but such is her pride that even amidst the pains of birth, she takes care to etch their rule into the cosmos. Pouring a phenomenal portion of herself, she alters the order of creation to declare the Underworld’s gradual reincarnation cycle the default afterlife, the state of the Prime Reality’s atmosphere to follow the weather patterns of the Heavens, and grants each lesser goddess the remaining portion of the Titan’s utterance, as it pertains to their power over the Heavens and the Underworld, respectively, and all the symbolism therein. This colossal act has elevated each of the two to one and half again the power of an equivalent deity, merely a pittance when pitted against a Titan, but truly divine in might when compared to the epochs to follow the Age of Creation.

It is the hope of future mortals that the twins are somehow kept in line, and perhaps, the responsibility of the Titans to ensure so. Nonetheless, the pair reside in the innermost portion of their realms, which are featureless save for the radiant and miasmic palaces they’ve erected for themselves. The Heavens are isolated, and can be found only by a mortal who genuinely seeks to travel beyond the starless night sky and earnestly attempts to do so with all their might, though whether its patron will be pleased with their arrival is another matter entirely.

The Underworld is far more accessible, and reaching it is as simple as undergoing the act of death, though it is in theory possible to reach while alive. If one digs so vigorously into the rocky soil or searches the darkest caves so fervently as any would-be Heavens-seeker, and continues to do so for a genuinely astounding amount of waking hours, they will find themselves in the Underworld without warning, and if they wish to resurrect their loved one, must find their soul and bring it back to their intact corpse on the surface, a task easier said than done, given the realm’s bleak aura is said to corrode the spirits of the uninvited and send all but the most strong-willed of ironclad minds collapsing until death takes them.

When Tiamat is content the twins have their affairs in order, she spills the remainder of her presence across no less and no more than a dozen pools across the spheres, four for each one, and each hidden in the muddiest and most secluded of places. Any animal who falls into one of their shimmering depths will remain unchanged until their death, when they’ll reincarnate as a hermaphrodite and struggle to produce as many offspring as possible in the next life. Any animals to birth from this are endowed with mortal sapience and stronger souls, but is otherwise unchanged.

If a sapient animal falls into a pool, there is no significant effect save that their offspring have a cumulative chance of retaining their intellect, and should two intelligent animals of the same species attempt to reproduce, their offspring are much more likely, but not guaranteed to keep their intellect. If a mortal falls into one of the pools, their soul is corrupted, modestly improving their affinity for magic, if applicable, and bringing out the worst of their personality. Save for undergoing divine intervention or death and reincarnation, there is no cure for this.

Tiamat has spent 200 Points to create the Heavens and the Underworld, two dimensions separate from the Prime Reality.
Tiamat (-200)(800)
Tiamat has spent 150 Points to create Ishtar and Ereshkigal, two lesser goddesses to reign over the Heavens and the Underworld, respectively.
Tiamat (-150)(650)
Tiamat has spent 250 Points to alter the order of creation, causing the worldly atmospheres to mirror the state of the Heavens by default, the Underworld’s reincarnation cycle to be the default afterlife, and each of the lesser goddesses to be one and half again as strong as equivalent deities.
Tiamat (-250)(400)
Tiamat has spent 75 Points to create a dozen of Tiamat’s pools, placing four of them into each of the muddiest and most seclusive places of the three spheres.
Tiamat (-75)(325)

At least initially heedless of Tiamat’s mantling of the lesser goddesses, Maut’s attentions are drawn to the third sphere and at the sight of the rampant destruction between the volcanic and glacial rivers, reasons that for there to be death, there must be life, and there must first be a place for that life to flourish. Bringing its will to bear as it did with the moons in the dawn of creation, it causes a great rumbling, carving out a colossal network of caverns in the third sphere’s crust. Each is warmed to only a minor chill by their proximity to underside of the Ebony Hills, which are yet to cool and thermodynamics pending, may never do so.

Maut finds it a worthwhile place for the living to find solace from the snows above, but feels it is far too empty for its preference. Again, it releases a part of itself, but this time it is sports seeking to infest the tunnels with more fungi than could be harvested by a thousand mortal generations. Though not intrinsically malevolent as Ragwroth’s strains, some of them are nonetheless horrifically poisonous and there is plenty of overlap, especially where the two meet in the Dungeon Space.

Maut has spent 150 Points to create an expansive cavern system on the third sphere, equivalent to three-fifteenths of its surface in scale.
Maut (-150)(740)
Maut has spent 50 Points to create a family of life, fungi vaguely similar to Ragwroth’s but far less harmful and mobile.
Maut (-50)(690)

Zero One One Two Three Five observes the creation, slowly succumbing to a strange sort of madness while the rest of the Titans watch, and continue to ponder the implications.

The Creation:

Spoiler:  The Cosmos (click to show/hide)

The Prime Reality:
A dim white star, orbited by the three spheres, which are in turn orbited by three craggy, mineral-rich moons. It is the largest dimension, upon which all other dimensions orbit and rely on to exist. Almost all mortals live here, and if there are exceptions to the rule, they are rare.

The Dungeon Space:
An endless expanse of hard stone filled with minerals and ores of every value, quality, and type. It gradually empowers those within though this has diminishing returns, and it is absolutely riddled with Dungeons of every imaginable kind, imposing architecture, and faux-impregnability.

The Heavens:
An expanse of sky that is blue or black, depending on the day or night cycle, and in the responsibility of the lesser goddess Ishtar. It is featureless, save for the radiant palace Ishtar built for herself. Due to the alteration of the order of creation by Tiamat, the skies of the Prime Reality shift to parallel individual regions of the Heavens, and it is Ishtar’s responsibility to keep them in balance.

The Underworld:
An expansive cavern that is dark and poorly lit, and in the responsibility of the lesser goddess Ereshkigal. It is featureless, save for the miasmic palace Ereshkigal built for herself. Due to the alteration of the creation by Tiamat, the Underworld is the default destination for deceased mortal souls, and it is Ereshkigal’s responsibility to keep them reincarnating in a steady pace as appropriate.

Spoiler:  The First Sphere (click to show/hide)

Once an arid and dry wasteland, it has been split into two landmasses by an enormous ocean, and the regions bordering it have been riddled with silty river valleys, though the desert remains in the poles and its closeness to the sun ensures its continual heat. In the skies above, a moon, riddled with caverns but otherwise sandy, orbits, and on opposite sides of its surface the red and yellow Titan’s Gates stand, connecting it to the second and third spheres.

Ringing the equator is Shasta’s Sea, which encompasses five-fifteenth’s of the sphere’s surface area, and filling another four-fifteenths are the river valleys on its coasts. A lush jungle has spread to fill one-fourth of the river valleys, and the Black Labyrinth fills one-fifteenth of Shasta’s Sea. The sphere’s crust is noticeably rich in minerals, both precious and mundane.

Spoiler:  The Second Sphere (click to show/hide)

A near-naked rock covered in a thin crust of bare earth, its middling distance to the sun ensures its middling temperature. In the skies above, a moon, pockmarked with mountains but otherwise earthy, orbits, and on opposite sides of its surface the red and blue Titan’s Gates stand, connecting it to the first and third spheres.

In a high-altitude region near the equator, a hardwood forest has spread to cover three-fifteenths of the sphere’s surface area, and the Silver Mere fills one-third of the forest. The sphere’s crust is noticeably rich in minerals, both precious and mundane.

Spoiler:  The Third Sphere (click to show/hide)

A frigid rock covered in blank ice, its far flung distance to the sun ensures its frigid cold. In the skies above, a moon, marred with craggy canyons but otherwise frosty, orbits, and on opposite sides of its surface the blue and yellow Titan’s Gates stand, connecting it to the second and first spheres. Near the northern pole, Gaia Mortiferum stands and casts its life-giving, hate-fueling, and pack-forming aura across one-fifteenth of its surface.

The Wasting Ice foams across the sphere’s surface, though it would render one-fifteenth of it perilous to inhabit if it kept its wandering to one place. Scattered across the world are the Ebony Hills, scenic mountains wrought of obsidian that serve to entice the eye and slightly warm the atmosphere. The sphere’s crust is noticeably rich in minerals, both precious and mundane, which are easily accessed through a series of caverns equivalent to three-fifteenths of the surface’s size in scale.

The Titans:

Spoiler:  Tiamat (TricMagic) (click to show/hide)

Points: 325

Spoiler:  0112358 (dgr11897) (click to show/hide)

Points: 1,000

Spoiler:  Maut (Elvish Miner) (click to show/hide)

Points: 890

Spoiler:  Splunder (notquitethere) (click to show/hide)

Points: 750

Spoiler:  Dr. Bob (King Zultan) (click to show/hide)

Points: 540

Spoiler:  Ragwroth (crazyabe) (click to show/hide)

Points: 750

Spoiler:  Jajameel (Detoxicated) (click to show/hide)

Points: 810

Spoiler:  Shasta (Wozzy) (click to show/hide)

Points: 600

Spoiler:  Xanzerwild (Roboson) (click to show/hide)

Points: 950

Spoiler:  The Monad (Tube Wizard) (click to show/hide)

Points: 1,000

[crazyabe]

Ragwroth looks upon Tiamat's godlings and considers, finding no flaw in his thoughts Commences new plots.
Firstly it forges yet one more realm beyond- the Everweb.
Next it tears out two of its many blackened hearts and splits each in twain, before binding each to half its opposite- around these hearts it gathers earth from which it forges two twin gods- Soartă and Şansă.

Spoiler: The Everweb (click to show/hide)

Description: A Space without space, An ever growing Web forged of all the interactions that could ever be, that ever were, and around these strands grow strange patterns, things and events the world remembers, events and things all the more easily repeated for good or for ill because of these forgotten memories.

Spoiler: Soartă (click to show/hide)

Name: Soartă, Fate, The Watcher in the Web
Appearance: Soartă Takes the form of a Spider with a humanoid body sticking out where its head would otherwise be, he has Sixteen legs and eight arms, his head is covered in a mass of eyes without any other features. his skin is stark white.
Description: Soartă is rather Quiet and reserved, as well as somewhat scholarly- caring not for the world but for what could come of those IN the world, his role is that of an observer, watching what takes hold in the world and recording it, taking action only when there are too many or too few possible weaves for the Everweb to take, even then his actions are almost never direct.
Spheres: Past, Future, Fate, Time, Knowledge
Default Depictions: His Symbol is the white half of a yin yang symbol, though its likely mortals will depict him in other manners.
Preferred Worship: He does not care how or if he is Worshiped.
Expected Boons: he is Selective in whom he sends boons to, but those he does may get Glimpses of the past, future, or present based on why he is granting these boons.

Spoiler: Şansă (click to show/hide)

Name: Şansă, Chance, The Voice of the Shadows
Appearance: Şansă Takes the form of a Spider with a humanoid body sticking out where its head would otherwise be, He has Eight legs ending in hooves and Six arms, His body is covered in innumerable mouths but totally lacks eyes. his skin is pitch black.
Description: Loud, Boisterous and friendly, he takes action at his whims although that doesn't mean his actions aren't premeditated, his role is that of a source of Change and chaos, most often by offering things like a second chance at life or what one currently lacks, though always at a cost. His actions in the mortal plane are rarely subtle, though his actions in the others depend of what deals he needs carry through.
Spheres: Luck, Cheating, Deception, Thievery, Deals
Default Depictions: His Symbol is the black half of a Yin yang Symbol, though its guaranteed mortals will depict him in other ways.
Preferred Worship: His preferred Worship is in the form of Sacrifice, though in his eyes the sacrifice of a mug of ale is just a good as the sacrifice of another's life.
Expected Boons: His boons tend towards the strange, and are dispensed as he sees fit- Guaranteed rebirth, though never truly through the underworld, Power, though always taken from others, and advice, though rarely good advice.

[550-100, -50, -150= Tot spent 300, Tot remaining 200]

[notquitethere]

Splunder is satisfied that there are plenty of beings to have things and plenty of places to lose them. But there aren't enough things worth having... yet! So pulling out from its vast mountain of junk, it sprinkles across the cosmos the following seven wondrous artefacts. Splunder gifts to each of the sentient beings one creation, the rest to be hidden to be found. Each of these artefacts is cursed to readily abandon its owner and become lost; but each is blessed so that they cannot be destroyed except by the power of a god and whenever they are lost it is certain each one will be found again in time. Whether churned up by the Wasting Ice, or hidden in a deep dungeon in the Black Labyrinth, lying at the bottom of a pool in the Silver Mire, or some other forgotten place.

To one hive of the Nectrotites, for their body stealing ways, it gave the Infinite Veil- anyone who wears it (including a Necrotite-infested body) can will appear to others exactly as the wearer intends. A necrotite-infested host could appear as normal this way, or could appear as literally anything else the same size. Every time the wearer uses it, however, their true form subtly, slowly, changes, becoming more like what they pretend to be. Someone wearing it for many years under many different forms will render their face patchy and their body misshapen.

To one of the Zebrakin, for their cowardly ways, it gave the Girdle of Prowess. Whomsoever wears it will be blessed with uncanny bravery, diligence, and competence but cursed with an extraordinary ambition.

To one of the Avaridi, who have the unenviable honour of being Splunder's favoured beings, it left the Splendid Dowser, a rod which points at all times to the nearest other artefact of power- pointing to the Titan Gate if the nearest artefact is on another sphere. Whomever holds it is cursed to feel the lure of power and possibility.

To one of the Slimes, for their reach across the cosmos, it gifts the Box of Voices. Whomsoever holds (or engulfs, in a slime's case) the box may communicate to anyone or anything capable of communication. It is cursed to impart that other person's point of view with great clarity, and engender a deep empathy for them (whether wanted or not).

Dumped in a crater on the moon orbiting the second sphere, Splunder leaves the Mask of Tears. Whomsoever looks into the face of the mask is filled with remorse and a desire to confess and make right the harms they have done. Contrariwise, whomsoever wears it is incapable of any form of regret whilst it is on them.

In a cavern, under some mushrooms, on the third sphere, it leaves an expanding Life Sphere. The sphere may be popped out anywhere and a hatch may open for someone to climb in. Within, so long as only one being is in it, it contains a perfectly liveable habitat for that being: the perfect temperature and humidity and air content and so on. It isn't cursed per se, but where only one being can be in it to use it, it tends to emerge in situations where people must make a difficult choice as to who gets to be safe inside...

In the deepest dungeon in the darkest depths of the Black Labyrinth, Splunder leaves its most powerful relic: Godsbane: The Lance of Ages. A spear so sharp it can pierce through a mountain, a glacier, a god! It can crack through any supernatural creation (even Splunder's own). It may only be destroyed by the power of a god dying.

[-25 x 6, -50 = -200]