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I am an unclickable option.

I am also that.

[Cheeetar]

Cog bathed the axe in the furnace again. He reached for his hammer, stopped, and ran his hand along his work. "It's cold! I knew we needed magma furnaces." He dropped his tools and went down the corridors. The Vanjarl wouldn't want to be disturbed, but with the recent demand for weapons he needed to hear Cog's plee. The door was at the right wing of the tunnel system. He noted that the thin sheet of ice that covered the right wings floor was growing thicker. Another reason to get magma piped in.

(Dormant god).

Edit: You might want to set it so admin options are only available to you or something, because it seems right now that anybody can restart the game as they wish.

[Cthulhu]

All of the admin options are password protected, it's fine.

[forsaken1111]

(This looks fun, I love the game. Will be watching, might jump in the next one)

[Cthulhu]

We're doing opening blurbs?

Ack, alright.  I'll slap something together.

*gurk*
     Unintelligible sounds and frothy blood issued from the slave's mouth, drowned out by the cheering of the crowd and the intonations of High Prophet Teoyaomqui in his radiant attire.  In the prophet's left hand was a jade kris; in his right, a tremulously pulsing heart.  He quickly covered the open arteries with his thumb.  The heartblood was too sacred to touch the ground. 

     They stood before the entrance of an immense palace, its walls decorated with disturbing and violent carvings.  Behind the slave was a pit of indeterminate depth, patiently awaiting its meal.  To his sides were two jaguar warriors, Mictlan's holiest warriors, in the full splendor of their sacred transformation.  They clutched his arms in clawed hands and bared their yellow teeth.  All around were thousands of screaming worshipers held back by the obsidian spearpoints of Mictlan's elite guard.  His skin grew pale and blood pooled on the stone around his feet.  Gnats arrived and began to feast on the sacred fluid. 

     Teoyaomqui finished his litany, and looked at the slave.  With a deft stroke, his knife passed through the neck, but only a few rivulets of dark blood dripped out.  On cue, the jaguar warriors tossed the body backward, and he fell silently into the yawning pit.  The crowd gave a final deafening cheer, and fell silent.  The baying of some horrid beast resounded from the depths of the palace, and the congregation fell prostrate on the ground.  The High Prophet quickly went to the entrance and awaited the god's arrival.  A hideous monstrosity emerged from the palace, vaguely humanoid but stooped and malformed, with blotchy yellow skin.  Even crawling on all fours it stood twice as high as a man, and riding atop its back was Twelve Jaguar himself, supreme god of the Mictlan pantheon, lord of the Sun, Moon, Rain, and Forest.  He was clothed in decadent green robes, trimmed with gold and a strange material made from magically congealed blood, and he wore a resplendent feathered headdress topped with a crimson gemstone that twinkled malevolently.

     "Down, Atlacatl," he said, and the beast crouched low.  Twelve Jaguar lowered his goblet, a gold-plated human skull.  Teoyaomqui emptied the sacrificial heart into it, and tossed the empty vessel to Atlacatl, who devoured it with gusto.  The god-king took a drink of the heartblood and swirled the cup absently.  All was utterly silent under the scorching jungle sun.

     Finally, the High Prophet spoke.  "Our Nahualli have divined the appearance of several large power sources.  Three of them are among the giant nations, one within the ape people's territory, and another deep below the sea.  It seems that with the Pantokrator's disappearance, the Old Gods are reawakening."

     Twelve Jaguar smirked.  "Senile godlings desperate to regain what they once had.  If they couldn't win before, what makes them think they can now?"  He downed the rest of the blood.  "Send liaisons to their nations, get on their good sides.  Let us humor them for now.  Meanwhile, ready the warriors.  We have natives to subjugate."

[E. Albright]

Cold... Shadows... Silence.
Cold... Shadows... Peace.
Cold... Shadows... A sound?

A touch of warmth... A glimmering light... Her voice, calling Our Name, Our true Name...

She... She has come back to Us... Where? Where are We? Have We awoken? We taste blood... have We killed?

Yes, She whispers, We have killed Our enemies. Soon, She shall guide Us to kill more of them. Soon, We will grant Her Our blessing once more and She shall go forth clad in Our glory, and remind Our children of their duty. Soon, they shall follow Her in serving Us as We feast upon those who displease Us.

Who... who displease Us... Who? Memories... Something... She is... not... She has changed... is She Her? Shhh, She whispers, She has changed Herself so the degenerates will follow Her. She will regain Her former majesty when they have recognized Our glory. But they do not recognize it now? How can... Shhh, She whispers, grant Her Our blessing, and think no more of it. Think only of crushing those who displease Us. She whispers their Names to Us, and We calm Ourselves. We focus Our drowsy mind, and stretch Our limbs to embrace Her...

[slMagnvox]

The pipes and sitars of the Devas ring throughout the soapstone temples of Sacred Mount Kailasa.  Great bulls draped in garlands and sweet smelling oils are led by Yogis as great silver backed Bandar apes drink and eat and speak amongst themselves in the rumbling lyrical growls of their language.  The Great One of the Mount, who shall rule all the Celestial Sphere and all the Material Plane, has called on those who so love Sacred Mount Kailasa to venture forth from the temples.  Venture forth and make forever quiet the discord of the ignorant races, the foul blasphemous speech of the giants, the muttering stupor of the blood worshippers, the cold distant sputterings of the deep ones.  To quiet the discord of this land so that all the world shall sing and play the Celestial Music and the two spheres shall forever become one.

Nations of Urraparrand, lay down your arms and welcome the Sacred Music into your lands.  The Devas are forgiving and would find a place for those among you who do not resist us.  Grooming a Bandar is a place of honor and you may eat as many lice as you might find.  And when you've inevitably contracted a painful and wasting disease from all the ticks you've eaten and your time upon this plane is passed, you who have been a most observant groomer might be so blessed as to be reborn as a Markata.

Those who choose to resist the might of the Devas and Sacred Mount Kailasa will know the both the power and the fury of the Celestial Sphere.

Praise slMagnvox and praise all who love Sacred Mount Kailasa!

[Cthulhu]

HELIOPHAGII WERE HERE

DEVAS ARE PIG DISGUSTING

[slMagnvox]

Lieutenant Bandar says Mictlan Jaguars lick many jungle toads and chew stinky mushrooms.  Makes them impotent he says, no wonder all the blood slaves are virgins.  When your women tire of being bred to imps let them know the Yaksha of Sacred Mount Kailasa are so virile they can please one hundred women every night and then slay one hundred demons every day.

[Cthulhu]

I, for one, hate the bandar.  They move into our map, steal our low-paying jobs, and marry our insecure fat women.  It's ridiculous.

Also, tell Lieutenant Bandar his mom was all over my rune smasher last night.

[Il Palazzo]

Dogmeat, the Lord of Chillout, opened his eye and noticed somebody standing in the corner of his confinement. Acually this being an astral prison-plane, there were no real corners, nor was there anything to stand on, but I was speaking figuratively.
-That you Pancy?
-It's Pancreator please. You could've at least once called me that. Nevermind. Listen, are you listening? 'Cause I'm in a hurry and I'm not going to repeat myself just because you're not paying atention. Ok, anyway, I've just stopped by to say goodbye and that I forgive you. There.
-Wait, what? Holdonforasecondthere...
-See, I tod you, you weren't paying attention. What was I? Ah, yes. I'm leaving. I need a break from all that ruling over the world and stuff. I want to try something new, not sure what yet, but I'm definitely not going back. So, y'know I wanted everyone to remember me fondly, that's why I stopped by to tell you that I forgive you for that time when you wanted to eat my head. Oh, and for, eh, everything else. And you can go and do whatever you like. You're free, byebye.
  Said the now-ex-pancreator and vanished. Dogmeat was unsurprisingly rather confused by such a turn of events. So much that after a while he wasn't even sure anymore if this all wasn't but a hallucination. The more so seeing how his prison "cell" still stood firmly, and didn't seem to be letting him go anytime soon. Nevertheless, Prince of Primeval Depths, the Unsleeping God, The Fortifier, The Armorer, decided to force his ass and break free, if only to check if Pancy was gone for real or if it was just that he finally went completely bonkers. Both possibilities seemed equally amusing.

Meanwhile, in the reality-plane...
Herse Dag and his pals dreamed of conquest since forever. Last month, they finally managed to name place and time and decided  to raid a province some fifty leagues north of their mountain fort. They took their axes and javelins, their spears and shields, and happily marched out, stomping on grass and people alike with their size 120 feet. Unsurprisingly, a local band of militia organized itself to put an end to this obnoxious behaviour. What happened to be surprising, at least to Dag and his now-late mates, was that the militia included some large and angry elephants.
As he was fleeing home, Herse Dag found in himself a long dormant talent of lighting reflexes, which allowed him to dodge arrow and elephant charge alike, thus making him the sole survivor of that ill-fated raid. Unfortunately for his daily job as a skald, the terrible shame that he felt since then made him pracically mute. So as not to die of hunger, he sold his services to one Niefel Jarl, named Frode, who lately begun to mention that he is hearing voices. Dag would love to comment on that, but his recent affliction prevented him from making any snide remarks, thus saving him his new job.

[slMagnvox]

I, for one, hate the bandar.  They move into our map, steal our low-paying jobs, and marry our insecure fat women.  It's ridiculous.

Also, tell Lieutenant Bandar his mom was all over my rune smasher last night.

Many Bandar enjoy the company of a full figured human woman.  Human vanity influences them not, they are gorillas after all and fragility is not a trait they value.   Marriage, however, is uncommon as those with the means much prefer to keep harems.  And if by steal your low paying jobs you mean the administration of your fortresses and provinces then yes, they will be stealing those.

Lieutenant Bandar's mother was generally pleased with how well you groomed her.  Though you set a good example for your subjects she says she does not intend to return the favor.

/OOC

Hah, turn two trash talk.  In a week's time we'll be signing a Non Aggression Pact to ward off someone like Hinnom or Niefel.

EDIT: The story of the mute giant pleases Kailasa.  He'd have only said something profane anyhow.

[Cthulhu]

I hope Lieutenant Bandar is a real character, and not someone you made up.  I do so wish to send him a disease demon.

Also, if I see any monkeys trying to steal my provinces, I'll hit them with a macahuitl.

[E. Albright]

Cax Kalu shifted his eyes from the Crystal as a light arose behind him. Illuminating disgust, Xi Mi signed a greeting between equals. The scholar illuminated dim curiosity without shifting his claws from the Crystal. In a flurry of rapid gestures, she relayed the grunts and bleatings the Trusted Olgothu-Croaker had overheard amongst the tendril-heads. The flaky-skinned abominations styled themselves more than packs of animals - they fancied themselves tribes - and squawked with the awe of larva of distant nations of their vile kin. Cax Kalu lit disinterest and turned his gaze back to the depths of the Crystal.

Rapidly, Xi Mi flashed impatience then anger. As the scholar wearily turned his ponderous gaze back towards her, she signed out the Shallow One scout's other news - paper-skin mewlings of self-styled gods and conquerors stirring - and in the dead of night, borne on the distant wind, faint traces of a hideously discordant clashing - a wretched noise like a feebleminded shambler might make fumbling with two heavy pieces of coral.

A dim light of interest final appeared above the scholar's eyes. Shifting a claw from its place, he slowly signed his request to her. Go forth, taking the Sword of Balance within you. Find the truth of the tendril-beasts' yelpings. If there is power amongst them, we can wrest it from their flaky paws. We will add it to our own, and forge the animals' fear into reverence of the Sword. Go. The Council of Kings at last gives its assent.

With a flash of pleasure, the vessel of the Sword withdrew. Cax Kalu shifted in place and returned his gaze to the Crystal. Rash, he thought, and perhaps a little mad.

[Cthulhu]

Kind of related, Dominions 3's ads remind me of less sexualized Evony ads.  It's just a moderately attractive woman sitting there looking angry, with the words "I want my Dominions 3".

Am I supposed to think that this woman wants to play Dominions 3?  Is that supposed to make me want to play Dominions 3?  Will this angry woman want to date me if I play Dominions 3?  What are they trying to tell me with this ad?

[Wiles]

They're trying to tell you sex sells more product.