Turn 6
The Mad One looks over the blue horizon. Ocean glimmers under the morning sun, and waves hit the sandy beaches, disturbing the small flocks of piscivore beach gulls with their relentless movements.
Yithr is curious. They are curious of the outside. They want to see, yet seem to be unable to do so. They can't stray away from the island, for as soon as they go far enough for the land to sink beneath the horizon, they find themselves quickly dissolving out of existence and then getting regathered infront of the volcanoes gaping maw.
They try using their power to will this dissolution away as they advance, trying to extend the islands aura. They find that their powers gradually diminish as they wander offcoast, so they cannot will themselves to be outside the island.
After this brief bout of experimentation, Yithr figures that their very existence is linked to the island itself. They simply cannot leave its general vicinity.
But that may not stop them from getting out in other ways. There is the helgak; material beings which are independant spirits in on themselves. They could explore for them.
Wood floats. Helgak knows this, so they make rafts to fish. But the ocean is not the same as a pond or a calm bay, rafts won't do if one wants to sail far away and brave the wild storms of the ocean. Yithr knows these as well, and they also know that none of the helgak have the means to sail the oceans.
So they sclupt a tree. A taller sibling to the branchpalms, owing to its hollow trunk that goes up for tens of meters, shooting out small, side branches like a cedar tree. Hollowtrunk trees are a gift, the key to building proper boats.
Yithr appears to the people of Shimm'braak, now called Gernio Fonnui, once more, in the exact form they did a millenia ago.
Through the teaching of the God of Synthesis, Fonnuites quickly learn to make boats, large and small. They, in accordance to the will of their teacher, sail off to discover and settle. The knowledge and experience of their findings are transmitted back to the island through their connections to the Ico trees into the mind of Yithr, who has tapped into the trees' network to learn of this knowledge. This source of knowledge is slow and cumbersome, in a way like trying to connect to an European server from Easter island, whatever those two are. Yithr swears they didn't just think that.
This gift gets the Fonnuites out of the island and allows them to settlr on other places, and even though Ico trees can't grow outside of the island. This was just the reason what saved them from being mostly genocided and fully subjugated in just a half a century later.
Cryax WANT'S BLOOD.! EVERYTHING ON THE ISLAND IS BORING TO THEM! THEY WANT BLOOD!
Oh, there is blood, right. The slogsack tribe is still around there in the north, right? They were all already infused with the essence of the Blood God, what better tribe was out there for Cryax to guide?
So Cryax takes the form of a giant, red furred Helgak, appearing above the settlement of the slogsack tribe. In their brief visit to the neolithic city state of the tribe, they learn that the slogsack tribe calls themselves Desmist-Alli, and their city Sedm-Des.
Allians seemed to know that Cryax was the mind behind their domestic slogsacks, which they explain as having learned from the omniscent ramblings of the now-extremely rare Ico-possessed allians.
The Blood God teaches the allians how to worship him, which involves gladiatorial battles to death and crusading, because Cryax will Cryax.
The Blood God grants the tribe of Desmist-Alli a gift arguably too straightforwardly powerful. Way. Too. Powerful. Cryax makes it so that more blood this group of helgak consumes, more powerful they become. This poorly thought-out gift quickly and catastrophically spirals out of control due to the fact that allians consume blood multiple times a day. This turns into a widespread societal problem and subsequent societal collapse within Sedm-Des just the week after the gift is bestowed. The essence of a spirit is intoxicating and after a certain point has permanent effects on the afflicted, and the current collective overdose from the essence of Cryax soon turn the allians into a race of hyperviolent, bloodthristy, demigod giants who have lost almost all civility they had a week ago.
For once in their immortal life, The Blood God thinks that maybe, just maybe, they went too far.
Well, this will be interesting...
Says the mountain.
The shifting of balance between unity and chaos does not escapes the attention of Fin. Something needed to be done.
So she intercepts the collective of Ico, distrupting its unity and causing its harmony to be broken by inspiring independence and sentience among the minds of people and animals. Though this distruptions manifest as silent, momentary quarrels echoing within a mind, one can easily come loose from their bond with the collective if they listen to what it says and agrees to follow through.
Soon, the Shimm'braak, which were all born already connected to the trees for dozens upon dozens of generations by now, start having problems with their youth. They listen to the words of Fin, being especially susceptible to the curiosity which the quiet quarrels invoke, since none of the Shimm'braak know what life without their connection is even like. Once the taste of independance settles into their minds, it is hard for them to refuse.
Rebellions break out, and tensions grow between the elders and the youth, though it does not breaks into a civil war; tye collective understands. The collective cares. Collective is the Shimm'braak, having the memories and experiences of countless generations of the said peoples. It doesn't wants anyone of itself dead, even if those are no longer a part of it. So the sides strike up a deal, the west of the main river is the Shimm'braak's turf. And the east is of the Renegades.
As the collective makes its mends and produces new kids, Fin intends to seal the deal.
From the pink glow of the Great Tree, Fin fashions plenty of spirits, which she intends to be the future guardians of the forest. The Kodama, as she calls them, wander around the Great Tree as of yet, completely idle.
A thought occurs to Urn. One which only they know what.
They travel to the south of the island, and where the forest meets the sea. The ground shakes, the sea churns and is muddled with disturbed sand. Seabirds scatter, helgak of both groups, and troll sloths come to investigate.
When the sand settles down to the seafloor, the change made is apparent. The coast now stretched for much further, and the sea descended for much less in a greater distance.
Seemingly content with their work, Urn descends back down to the chasms which they call home, slumbering once more.
Xorn hates it here. He has been here, trying to control this damn volcano, only for it to not listen. And apparently he can't live in it either; it is already occupied by someone. Who? He can't even see anything within the stupid mountain.
Who cares?! He will make another mountain without all the bullshit! That'll show em!
So he goes out to the shallow sea by as much as a half an hour, or so he tries. Instead he feels himself slip away as soon as the island sinks beneath the horizon behind him. He figures why and tries a much shorter distance to create his mountain.
The seafloor shrieks as the sea violently bubbles. A small hill of steaming black rock rises above the ocean, still oozing lava.
Nice for a beginniner, stable and will provide the basis for a new island just offshore.
It'll do.
It has to, especially as the main island is about to become something akin to hell.
Ix's collective is in shambles. Just as pretty much everything else is. The threat of the Allians have posed has grown a thousand-fold just overnight, and they are already intruding into the jungle, killing and eating everything they see. Something imperceptible prevents the invaders from reaching the inner parts of the jungle, protecting the aninals and the helgak of the forest from getting fully eradicated. Only longterm hope the helgak have is that they there are still plenty of helgak away from the island, scattered along the world. Maybe the ones on the island will go away too, leaving the gods alone.
Ix sees this as an opportunity, one that may even end up being their last direct interaction with the helgak. An opportunity to claim a concept as their own; the ur-concept of unity. So that all actions of cooperation feeds their ambient essence, making Ico trees grow where the cooperation resides.
They do not know if it is what they wish. There really is no way to see it directly, as the island is now covered by all sorts of powerful essence marks by the six forces, making things more and more magically unstable.
Like most things, this game has a catch.
You will find out, soon enough.
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Topic: Be the gods of an island! | (Turn 6) (Always open to new players) (Read 4512 times)