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[Knave]

Natus sensed a new presence on his world. Insects... from Galt? Frowning he left the Spire to speak with the Ka'a'ree. This would be their first test. The planet Natus was his creation of balance, the new population of bugs would have to be kept in check, otherwise they could devastate the plant life if given enough time.

“Order your warriors to capture and kill these bugs.” Natus commanded the Queen Ka'a'ree, “They are many in number, and their swarm must be thinned if the balance of this planet is to maintained. They will even threaten your Star Flowers. Allow some to live, train them, domesticate them, use them as you will.”

The Queen bowed her head, “The will of Natus be done.” was all she replied with, already sending out orders telepathically to her many loyal subjects to commence the hunt.

And with that, Natus was gone back to the Spire to continue his work, still oblivious that Xarn was awake.

----------------------------------------------------

At the meeting of the gods, Dral'tool, shifted for a moment as it heard Xarn speak to his race. Though Natus was his master, Xarn was as well, it would say nothing to anyone, mortal, or god. It felt almost bad for the young Natus. The book 'Origins' was eating away at his sanity from inside, but it was necessary. Xarn must be powerful before he reveals himself. Dral'tool and the other Shifters would do everything in their power to see this through. It doubted that the other gods were even aware that the Shifters were servants of Xarn, but one thing it knew was that gods were resourceful and that knowledge would not remain secret forever.

It would not allow The Voidbringer to be banished a second time.

[Lokii]

   There  appeared to be a subtle shifting in the essence of the universe, it seemed. There were still the wrinkles here and there of divine events, but there was something more solid as well, in fact the whole universe seemed to be in panic mode. It was troublesome to say the least, but Màquines could do nothing about it seeing as she had no idea what exactly it was. Regardless, she had bigger things on her mind...

   Oh, never-mind. The Orb-God was gone, and with her power returning, it was time to focus on  her new planet. The grass she had made wouldn't last long in this harsh environment without water, every stalk she could see was already wilting. Reverting back to human form, she began to form an aquifer under the crust. In the places where the aquifer was at a normal level, the grass perked up and was once again able to sway in the breeze. Where there was no aquifer, eventually the grass withered away and all that was left was a desert of white sand; in some rare places, however water came forth from the earth in the form of a spring, and in these places, great forests of bamboo sprang up from the ground. There was now more variety to say the least, but a planet with only plant life was still quite boring...

So she set to work again, this time shaping the essence into many similar creatures, the Zunra. About the size and shape of a horse, they have scales as opposed to fur, and two long horns protrude from their skull. They are herbivores and can survive off of only grass if need be.

Act 1- Màquines makes a layer of water under the crust of Savoia, allowing for changes in the biome in some areas.[ /b]

Act 2-  Màquines creates the Zunra, horse-like reptiles that can survive most anywhere  with food

[Canalan]

Palad’in looked upon his creations.  He saw the beginnings of a new cult appear among the Orcs; it was small, but still a potential threat.  However, the other gods would destroy his world before the cult could increase in strength.  He needed defenses.  Now.
Gathering up energy from his reserves, he ripped a hole in the Veil.  Through this hole he pulled twelve space stations from another universe and set ten of them in geosynchronous orbit above the major settlements of the Nameless World.  He set two to orbit around The Vault.  These stations were built around huge mass drivers, which would fire at any enemy ship or rouge asteroid, but it was impossible to aim them at each other or the bodies they orbited.  The stations also projected a field of energy around the planet that would at least reduce the intensity of any directed energy attacks.  After these primary defenses were set up, he traveled to the World of Plates and took 210 dwarves from the war that would have consumed them.  He traveled through the evacuation portal and took 300 elves from their settlements.  He dispersed them evenly to their respective settlements on the Nameless World.  He also took a few from each race and trained them to operate the stations in orbit above their cities.  Some also crewed the stations above The Vault.
Maybe this measure would save his creations.

ACT ONE: Retrieved space stations and set them in place.
ACT TWO: Some migrants have arrived.  Trained some of the residents of the World in crewing the giant guns.

[Ghazkull]

Quôth was enraged. Those imbeciles! They dared killing those he had chosen. He would destroy them! He would tear their very essence apart, he would...

First of all he had to calm down. He should have seen this. This is the way of nature. If you shift the equilibrium nature will rampage. He, especially he  should have known this.

The fittest will survive...

he murmured to himself. Another experience he could lay ad acta under "never do again".
But what should he do now? What should he do with the daemons below him?
Well none of those should be allowed the gift he had prepared for many of the angels. For their insolence they would not die...no. He had a fate far more fitting for them.

Infusing his Scythe again with his power he tore a giant rip into reality and opened a portal to another reality. It was already dead except for his children. They had waited patiently for his call.
He coul feel their curiosity. Their combined feelings nearly flooded his mind. And he could also feel hunger.They still had enough mass to feed the fleet for another millenium but they knew that on the other side lay knew fertile lands. He hated to destroy their hope to join their god again, but he didn't dare to transport the whole fleet through the rift with all those gods still alive .

This galaxy is still alive my children. The war has not yet ended and the dead are to few to feed us all. Send only the Korpr.
His hollow voice, sounding like the gurgling of a man whose throat was sliced open, echoed through the heads of every single of his children.

He could feel a wave of frustration but they accepted his decision. From the giant fleet only a few came through the rift. 30 ships made their way through the opening between the realities and in the instant the last ship had passed through Quôth closed the rift again.

He admired what his children had crafted. Every single one of them over 700 m long, a mix between dead steel and living, decaying biomass, the ships almost looked like bloated corpses of undefinable lifeforms.

 The crew of every ship consisted of those who had survived Quôth's trial but hadn't the luck of being immune to his artificial diseases. They all had mutated in horrible ways, their shapes covered in decaying flesh, bubonic skin here and there breaking open to release undefinable liquids that where highly contagious, for some the body changed so fast that carrion insects were absorbed into the body never to be seen again. It seemed like their body was infected with all kinds of horrible diseases imaginable and unimaginable.

But instead of begging for mercy and a quick death, those poor, wretched beings didn't mind. They endured their horrible existence with stoic calmness and seemed to be content with what had been done to them. Quôth had given them immunity to all diseases in exchange for the existence as living vessels for them. He had saved them from the ravages of time in exchange for their fertility. He gave them immunity to pain for their loyality and most of all he had given them hope and a chance. Every single one of the came from a dying reality, born on a planet ravaged by the gods, left alone and forgotten. The only prospect of life, was waiting for the inevitable end coming in form of the  reality slowly shrinking due to the absence of a god stabilizing it. He had rescued them but told them the price for it. They paid it gladly to save their families and their race. And thus, over the ceturies, they had become an own race: the Korpr.

Quôth warped on the bridge of the flagship which lead the small flottilla. The Arflognir distinguished itself from the other ships only marginally making it impossible for enemies to specifically attack and destroy the flagship. He warped himself next to the admiral of the vessel, a humanoid being wrapped in the same armor as Quôth, but opposed to his god he wore a helmet of the same greenish colour as the rest of the armor. It had two small slits which resembled eyes but were actually optical sensors and three others at the region of the mouth which were, at closer inspection, speakers. Although Quôth was in his current form 3 meters high, the man next to him was only two heads shorter. As the Kropr realized that Quôth stood next to him he bowed deeply before  a metalic voice thunddered from the speakers:

Great Quôth the Korpr have assembled as you wished.

Kvasir you know that you don't need to adress me so formally. If not for the long time we know us then at least for the sake that you are a half god.

The warrior bowed even deeper

As you wish Father Crow...

Quôth shook his head helplessly before he continued

Kvasir, do you see the planet below us? These mortals have thrown back our plans. I want you to integrate them into our flock. But don't be lenient, they all have earned themselves the honor of our gifts.

a rasping metallic sound protruded from the helmet, for the unknowing observer it woul have taken a moment to realize that it was an evil laughter.

As you wish Lord Quôth, it shall be done...


Quôth opens a rift to another reality to open the passage for a small flottilla of 30 space ships, each about 700 meters long, containing a crew of 2000 Korpr (sums up to 60000 of them)

[forsaken1111]

From the depths Astra'ath rumbles again. It could sense the growing tension, the buildup of defenses.

It was time.

Go Our children, Our star-born warriors

Take to the Void, as you were meant

Defend this world, allow no invader to reach Us.

All across the cave, beings bowed in service. Once the Guardians, then Fallen, then the Vanguard... now reborn as the Chosen. They called themselves Children of the Stars, for they were born of the essence of the void itself. They looked human, more or less, but inhumanly tall and lithe. No wasted fat, no paunch or wrinkle, they are humans perfected and brought to full potential. Their heads are larger than normal, the cranial cavity extended to support and protect their massive minds. Their limbs are elongated and slim, ending in delicate, dexterous hands. Their skin is supple yet tough and extremely resilient, slightly translucent. Their most striking feature, however, are the graceful fleshy wings spreading from their backs. Iridescent like a butterfly's, the wings seem to capture ambient light and redirect it.

One by one, they look up. Their forms shimmer and a low thrumming fills the cavern, shaking the stone. Powerful fields wrap around their forms, taking the shape of individual sleek fighter craft. Once established, each field looks like the mirror-bright hull of a spacecraft, seamless and flawlessly formed from the energy of their minds. These telekinetic fields distort and blisters appear, reshaping into weapon ports, engines, sensors. Each starspawn is, unto itself, an armed spacecraft capable of interstellar flight, formed of energy fields projected by their minds. Together they are even more.

To the side, a group of three starspawn work together to form a full-sized frigate. Another group of four create a destroyer. Massive weapon emplacements menace from shining hulls, telekinetic rounds lock into breaches all across the ship and optical apparatus begin redirecting ambient light to focal equipment to form rows of laser cannonade. Semi-sentient minds are formed within the hulls, shifted outwards on glowing field tracks and locked into place on shining racks, homing missiles made of pure force and psychic energy.

All across the vast cavern, smaller ships prepare for battle. They line up at the massive shafts dug by Astra'ath's tentacles during Sothurn's creation, ready to fly out when the battle is joined. One group of Starspawn begins making its way to the surface, not as ships but as individuals. Their transformations will require much more space.

[forsaken1111]

Its warriors now ready, Astra'ath turns Its attention to another matter.

Someone had murdered Aerie.

It could feel her soul, drifting slowly towards the well of souls. She who freely dedicated herself to Its worship, and was murdered without cause with her own blade.

Dragnar would pay.

It reached out with divine awareness and plucked the elf's soul from the ether, saving it from destruction. The soul seemed intact, so perhaps this could be salvage.

In Dragnar's library, from the corpse of Aerie, a nightgaunt emerges. It had settled there to rest and it had witnessed the event. It blazes with rage and wrath, channeling its god's full attention. Its robe whips in an ethereal maelstrom, and its empty hood fixes on Dragnar. The voice of Astra'ath bursts forth, louder than any mortal sound. Its power cracks the walls and shatters glass, reducing the bed upon which Aerie's body lay to kindling. It drives even Dragnar back a step, unprepared for the wash of force, but does not harm his divine self.

DRAGNAR

YOU HAVE ALLOWED OUR SERVANT TO COME TO HARM

YOU HAVE DESTROYED OUR PROPERTY

THERE WILL BE A RECKONING

EXPLAIN YOURSELF THIS INSTANT

[dragnar]

Dragnar blinks several times, confused by the accusation, before stepping forward once more.

"I? I destroyed your property?! I took Aerie in and treated her wounds. I gave her somewhere to rest while she recovered from her trials. I have done nothing but protect Aerie, and whoever has dared to harm her in my sanctum will pay. How dare you accuse me of this?!"

The hammer-like object on Dragnar's arm changes shape again, stretching into a blade.

[forsaken1111]

The shards of Thuthacar lift from the ground for emphasis. The volume of Its voice lessens to mortal levels, seeing Dragnar's confusion. It remembered it was dealing with a child-god.

Our property. Its destruction was unwarranted. We left Aerie and her possessions in your care.

Now she is dead, her blade destroyed.

Explain your actions immediately.

[dragnar]

"My actions are exactly what I just told you. I have aided Aerie and nothing more. I will find who did this, but until then I can do nothing more. The blade, Thuthacar... It's destruction was unwarrented, nothing but a fit of anger, and for that I apologize, but I had nothing to do with this killing!"

[forsaken1111]

Our gaunt saw you drive the blade into Aerie's body, but We believe your protestations of innocence. We sense no duplicity in you.

This was a ruse designed to drive us apart, a ploy by the other gods to bolster their numbers.

By doing this they hoped We would act in haste and you would join their cause.

The nightgaunt falls silent for a moment.

Restore what you have broken, We shall see to Aerie.

We suggest you reconsider your stance on this conflict.

The others will obviously not allow you comfortable neutrality.

Had this gone differently, We would have been at one another's throat.

The shattered pieces of Thuthacar drift over to Dragnar and gather in a neat pile. The gaunt suddenly slumps, weakened by the rage it had channeled. It flickers out, almost invisible, resting against the wall and looking sadly at Aerie's corpse.

[Acanthus117]

The Chained God, scavenger of dead worlds and ancient civilizations, was hunched over a lump of black clay, over a condensed piece of shadow. Two hands, bound by the chains of some long lost jail, formed the umbral material into the shape of a man. The figure was long and spindly, as if it had been stretched out of proportion. More arms were added to the thing, and the figure grew in size till it was almost twelve feet tall. The Voidwalker spun threads of the ethereal divine energies, and infused the thing with life. A face, half formed, appeared on the being's face. Some of the darkness faded from where the thing's head and hands would be, leaving a strange pattern, almost as if the thing was wearing robes of darkest night. Its varied spearlike legs and arms could pierce even the strongest metals, and its flesh was unseeable by divine eyes, save for the Voidwalker itself. Speed and grace were endowed upon the thing, and it stood at attention.

Still, it held no... soul, no vestiges of thought and of the malice needed. It was but a tool, one that the Watcher in Darkness needed to give a mind. The Voidwalker, knowing of one such being, sifted through the chain links of its body, and pulled a single lock of hair twined around a particularly newer link.

As the god's fingers traced the hair, it remembered to whom it had belonged to; A young woman, graceful and beautiful, one who had many suitors. One such suitor had bargained with the Emperor in Chains, begging for her love. And so, the Chained God gave the young man the love of his desired, at the cost of the man never seeing her again. He went mad, raged against the world and the gods, slaying thousands. His soul had been taken as soon as the man had been slain, by the woman who loved him most, in a cruel twist of irony.

The soul, bound to the very body of the deity, wafted from the lock of hair, which promptly crumbled into dust. a black wisp of shadow drifted to the monstrous body. Suddenly, the idle monster roared into action, its multiple arms twitching with rage. It jumped to and fro, slashing the blasted rocks and stone pillars, and rushed at the god of the void. A single twitch of a finger encapsulated the thing with ethereal chains made of ether.

You are the Reaver. You are my sword, my dagger in the dark. Go, and wreak havoc and death. The thing, its mouth salivating, leapt from Ss'Vadgrin, and into the dark voids of space.

The Reaver, a thing made of shadow and of the soul of a crazed murderer, is born. It can travel in between worlds, using the shadows to teleport. It lives to cause death and inspire fear in sentient beings, but does not kill too many in one place, a single family at the most. It cannot be seen by divine eyes, and for all purposes, cannot be killed by mortal means. It draws power from the fear it inspires, and disposes of its victims by impaling their eviscerated corpses on trees, or leaving them in the forest. It begins by attacking a remote village on Aether.

[dragnar]

"Very well, I will repair your blade, but first... You say you saw me kill her? How could anyone have fooled even a god? Strange, I will have to investigate this further."

Dragnar walks back into the library, repairing Thuthacar with a wave of his hand as he goes.

Dragnar repairs Thuthacar.

[forsaken1111]

Before Dragnar leaves, the Gaunt sends the witnessed event to him, allowing him to experience what it saw.

this is what I saw as I slept within our queen

the master has withdrawn, he is bringing back her soul

"Bring me to Aerie."

The librarian complied, obeying its master with a graceful bow. Not long did it take, or Dragnar bowed over the young woman with the missing leg. She slept. His hands went to Thuthacar, taking it gently in his hands. The blade pointed down, he woke her up. Not like any mortal would, no. His very mind tore her from her slumber, waking to the image of Dragnar and her own sword, pointed down. No chance to scream, no chance to feel.

Dead- From one moment upon another, her last memories burned not only into her soul, but into that of the master of the brood she was part of: Astra'ath.

Returning from the errand he was sent on, carrying an innocent book about human anatomy, the librarian was greeted by a vision unseen, no, unknown to it:

Even the floor was cracked by the force of the deed. Thuthacar, a sword of great lethality, forced through the chest, up to the hilt, just off the lungs, through the heart of a young Aether elven woman. The eyes, full of terror, stared a dead stare into the air...

[Canalan]

The outpost of Canyonoar had encountered some… interesting times.
Some days ago, a large spire erupted from the side of the mountain and seemed to draw energy from the moon above!  Needless to say, the dwarves ran screaming at the spire, so as to determine whether or not it was an enemy or valuable.  Before they could even get close, it exploded into dust.  They arrived at the crater left by the spire, and couldn’t even see the bottom.
Many kittens were sacrificed in an attempt to determine the depth.
Once the last had vanished, they knew something else would have to be done.  A group of ten military dwarves were selected (based on their expendability) and outfitted with the best iron armor and weaponry.  They started the long walk down into the depths.

Dishmab Cogtanuth, the squad’s second crossbowdwarf, was walking at the rear of the formation.  They had been down in the depths for four days and had not seen any signs of anything shiny.  Most of the squad wanted to turn back.  A runner from Canyonoar had caught up to them a day ago and told them that a huge wave of immigrants had been set up in the fortress by Palad’in himself.  Some of the squad’s family had been brought too.  Dishmab’s wife had sent him a letter.

A day later, the squad sighted a dim light. The tunnel had grown much hotter, and they suspected that they were close to the mantle.  They thought maybe the end was closed off by magma or maybe even some adamantine.  Most of the squad ran ahead to get their first glimpse of the fire in the earth.  Dishmab shouted for them to wait; he had a bad feeling about this.  However, instead of encountering the blood of Palad’in, they entered into a vast eerie cavern.  The air above the dark stone floor was alive with vortices of strange light and dark, boiling clouds.  Seemingly bottomless pits filled with water marked the surface.  They clustered together as horrifying screams came from the darkness around them.

[forsaken1111]

Several starspawn observe the dwarven expedition as they enter the core caverns through one of the several boreholes left from Sothurn's rebirth. They look at one another, communicating silently, and then descend on iridescent wings to greet the stout folk. Their voices are melodious, the words more felt than heard.

Greetings, stout folk from the surface.

We are the Starspawn, Chosen of the Elder God.

You have wandered far from your homes.

Their tall, slender frames were unlike anything the dwarves had ever seen. These were no elves, nor men, nor any other being on the Nameless World. This was something alien, something from elsewhere.