Print

Please login or register.
1 Hour 1 Day 1 Week 1 Month Forever
Login with username, password and session length

[Katsuun]

Xantos watched from a distance, as that odd little jester god turned his scribbles into brown balls that started to dig, and find ores which they would deposit on the surface of the planet. The piles were seemingly pointless, as the scribbles and earthen scribbles alike ignored them, simply milling about as they always did, only now with some portion of them milling into the planet, rather than about it. He felt the slight vibrations from beneath his perch on one of the taller of his forest's trees, watching as they drilled into the floor of his forest and came up with various metals, dull or bright, hard or soft, it didn't seem to matter to them.

He saw the seven sided die vaguely in the cold distance of space. His eyes twitched slightly. The jester had the gall to use Xantose's own domain! The thing either had no sense of caution, or just no sense. And given his style of dress, Xantos got a good feeling as to which of the two was more correct. Still... the dice could be useful. Pulling out his own, superior dice from a hammerspace between his oversized sleeves, he tossed them into the air, watched as they arced above the canopy line, and made to catch them.

Whereupon they missed his hand. Xantos summoned the dice to himself, slightly perturbed. This only happened when probability was impossible to determine for a given event... had his peers finally figured out how to negate his power? Xantos placed the dice back into his hammerspace, disturbed at the development.

The game would be harder than he thought...

[filiusenox]

The crystal man climb the trees and looked from the top.He looked about and saw a pile of glimmering metal.He picked it up and but it into his pocket.

[RAM]

Where once there was perfection, now there was chaos. Where once there was purity, now there was conflicting forces. Where once there was freedom, now there was fear and purpose. Conflict had entered the world, the old ways had been lost, and something had been awakened.

A slowly rotating will searched through the world. It saw the emerging chaos of the world and looked for something constant. And so it was that it drew upon the shadows of the world, drew them to itself and gave them power. It then descended under the world and unleashed the shadows, forming a shadow for the entire world.

Create Plane: The Plane Of Shadow: 0/3.

Spoiler: Traits (click to show/hide)

Coterminous to and Coexistent with the Material Plane.
Timeless: No natural deterioration.
Infinite.
Mildly Neutral-Aligned.
*Divinely Morphic: This is the home plane of Wheel and Wheel's pantheon.
Magically morphic: Certain spells modify the base material of the Plane of Shadow. The utility and power of these spells within the Plane of Shadow make them particularly useful for explorers and natives alike.
strongly neutral-aligned.
Enhanced magic: Spells with the shadow descriptor are enhanced on the Plane of Shadow. Such spells are cast as though they were prepared with the Maximize Spell feat, though they don’t require the higher spell slots.
 Furthermore, specific spells become more powerful on the Plane of Shadow. Shadow conjuration and shadow evocation spells are 30% as powerful as the conjurations and evocations they mimic (as opposed to 20%). Greater shadow conjuration and greater shadow evocation are 70% as powerful (not 60%), and a shades spell conjures at 90% of the power of the original (not 80%).
Impeded magic: Spells that use or generate light or fire may fizzle when cast on the Plane of Shadow. A spellcaster attempting a spell with the light or fire descriptor must succeed on a Spellcraft check (DC 20 + the level of the spell). Spells that produce light are less effective in general, because all light sources have their ranges halved on the Plane of Shadow.

[The Willow Wisp]

Synk turned his attention to this new disturbance. He saw simple creatures on the surface of a ball of rock. The ball of rock contained nothing more than some water, a few trees, ore, and a cave system. At the moment it was unintresting.

Synk then noticed that other beings had begun to make planes of their own. While Synk had thought to do this himself, he never got around to doing it. Now was as good a time as any.

Synk conjured up some dark energies and then let them spread out. These energies formed into a large plane that twisted and turned. No mortal could see what the plane's actual shape looked like, but it was as clear to any other god as it was to Synk. The plane was in the shape of a maze. It was made entirly of swamps, and  the occasional patch of barren land. If one person walked to the edge of the part of the maze they were on they would appear in a random other place in the plane. This would make traversing the plane difficult without a guide or divine intervention very difficult. A strange energy seeped from the plane itself. This energy would turn any normal mortals into something dark. The plane was sentient, and could act without Synk's direct orders. Synk named this plane Zhalmin. Synk couldn't wait to see what this plane would do to the scribbles.

Summary of Zhalmin
Normal Gravity
Timeless
Strongly Evil-aligned
In the shape of a maze with the walls being the actual plane
Sentient
Normal Magic

Create Plane(0 of 3 AP): Zhalmin

[RAM]

Beneath the shadow of the great ball of rock a massive stone wheel materialises and slowly rotates in the sky, beneath it there is only darkness. *Back in the Prime Material Plane, amongst those scribbles who choose the frozen wasteland a new game is played, where they try to scribble their scribbles around themselves.

[Tlaon]

Scamander stumbled out of the space between planes,flailing his arms and gasping for breath.  He felt he should vomit, but there was nothing in his stomach just as there was nothing in his lungs.  It's hard to rid yourself of those old mortal habits. Recovering from his disorientation, he set out to explore this strange world he's found himself on.

[Emperor_Jonathan]

Wayock, the Material Plane.

Wayock looked down upon the rock, strange creatures moved across the land violently changing direction and shape quickly. He flowed down upon them and studied them, some dug up metals. Most just moved across the land, doing nothing. They had no intelligence, just that of a primal beast.

No good for a warrior race then.

Wayock felt others, others like him. Some were almost, almost as strong as him. Others were weaker.

Wayock, to all.

"Oh ye, who is here for this world? Who will cause nourishment on it? Who will cause destruction?"

[NUKE9.13]

Jester, to all.

"Hee hee hee, I am here for this world, amn't I? Every beast that roams it's surface owes it's life to me. I am a god of creation, see?"

[Emperor_Jonathan]

Wayock, to all.

"Pah. Hardly life. They move around needing nothing, they do not have ambition! They do not have conflict and they do not think for themselves. They do not advance, hardly life."

[RAM]

Wheel resides in the plane of shadow, rotating, and observing...

[Jerick]

It rose from the depths, a whisper, it flitered between the leaves of the green forest and speed to the cold south and around to the freezeing north.
It was a hissed, angry sound seeping around the world.
Asari to all
"Nourrrissshment?, Desstrrruction? Meaninglesssss,... trrransssient...No I am here forrr change...I am here forrr myssself...I am here to sssee..."

[Dragooble]

Wedstryd, Ball of rock.
Wedstryd sighed. the scribbles were nice for some brief fun, but now they were getting boring again. Wedstryd noticed Wayock whining about the lack of conflict amongst the scribbles. Wedstryd decided to help Wayock out.
Wedstryd snapped about 2478 fingers and a pitch black child like imp creature appeared on the ball of rock. Thousands more appeared shortly. These creatures noticed all the colorful scribbles on the ball of rock.what were they doing? These flamboyant idiots couldn't have fun! only THEY were allowed to have fun! With this in mind the imps decided to go out and cause general mayhem for the scribbles. trapping them, scaring them, or just flat out attacking them. Things were starting to pick up for This chunk of land. Wedstryd decided to call these creatures the Burellys.

Create populace: Burellys. 2 AP
3/3 AP used.

[Katsuun]

Xanatos had been listening to the conversation with little interest. He heard the hissing of the cave-god, then decided to respond for himself.

Xantos to all:

"So... it seems there are at least four, undoubtedly more of us on this new world, this new game. We've been at each others throats for a while now, but I would like to note how quickly we have turned this lump of rock into an inhabited planet! And yet, it seems that we all still have conflicting goals...

[NUKE9.13]

Jester, to all.

"Hee hee hee, the scribbles have potential, innit? Take a scribble and tweak it, just so, and you have yourself a bird or a fish, or whatever creature you should like. See the diggles, they are of scribble, ain't they? Scribbles that ponder the mysteries of life are merely a tweak away!"

Jester, to Wedstryd

"Hee hee hee, what are you doing, hey? Them creatures of yours are taking advantage of them scribbles, see, that's not part of the game, isit? Them scribbles have enough darkness from the cave god, don't they? If you endarken them more they shall surely become dull creatures who live to fight, innit? That's no fun, no it isn't, they are to be wild and free, see?"

Meanwhile, on the surface, a curious war was being waged. There were no weapons, no strategies, and not really that much death. But Burelly fought Scribble, and Scribble defended itself. Though simple of mind Scribbles adapt quickly, so a scribble attacked quickly became a scribble of hardened lines, sharp lines, even. They flared in bright colours to blind their enemies and slashed at them with outflung lines. And on account of how scribbles are hard to kill, they were, if not evenly matched, at least not the pushover the burellys had expected.
And a scribble that won combat did not revert to wandering. Their combat attitude remained. The need to attack burellys caused them to scribble around until they found one, and then to fight it. And a scribble who had already prepared for combat was more likely to win. And in their second fight they would specialise more. And so on and so forth.
It's not learning. It is changing of form to suit the situation. And the form was scribbles that fought.

Jester, to Wedstryd:
"See, see, see? Scribbles do as scribbles do and these are now fighting! They lose their flare, they lose their dance, their fun, they become fighters for eternity, see?"

[Tlaon]

As the booming voices of greater gods roared around him, Scamander stood on the top of a mountain, watching the strangest battle he had ever seen play out below him.  The scribbles, strange creatures as they were, were proving their worth in the best way they could: adapting, learning, demonstrating an amazing potential.  They were living exemplars of the skill that had brought him to where he was.

But they were missing one thing.  Their movements betrayed it: they did not fight out of will to survive, but simply because they could.  It was a game to them.  Scamander would fix that.  And so he set out into the battlefield, reaching into the strange forms of the scribbles and giving them a piece of himself: his endless ambition.

OOC: Teach Scribbles Ambition (1AP used, 0AP remain)

The effects were subtle at first.  The scribbles' actions toward the Burelly became more purposeful and violent.  They grew fearsome projections: lines that resembled blades, spikes, or gnashing mouths filled with teeth.  They began to group together, at first for the simple expediency of group combat, but as the battle grew on and the Burellys were handily pushed back, it became clear that the scribbles had another purpose.  They began to join together, line bonding with line into a structure of shifting color and shape.  Any Burelly that came near would be repelled with frightening force as a great protrusion of sharp-edged lines would emerge to bat them away.

Scamander approached it with caution.  The giant scribble manifested a shape like a great hammer, as if to crush him, but it slowly reformed into a small, dexterous tendril.  It slowly inched forward and touched Scamander's head.  A cascade of feelings filled his head, and the tendril quickly retracted.  For a moment, Scamander was left in confusion, but then a message coalesced out of the mishmash of ideas: "You have taught me better than you knew."