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[Caesar]

Nativa smiled sweetly at Shaq.
Balance, my son, is subjective.

She waited for him to blink, then disappeared, leaving no trace of herself anywhere on the island.

[Karnewarrior]

Well, mother, it seems we go. Said Carmanthyre, and him and Silver teleported away from the island of the gods, much more gracefully than they had come. They arrived back at the Northren camp, in Silvers vacant room. Silver sheathed Carmanthyre and exited into the northren camp.

The changes were obvious. The crops had frozen, and so the tribe struggled to survive on last years stores. Silver felt horrible, but could do nothing to help it. But what he could do was take their minds from the pain.

"Come, northren. I have a great, magnificent lie to tell you all. Fake though it is, it ought to take your minds off the pain for a while." The northren shrugged and gathered around the fire.

"A long long time ago, in a world far far away..." Began Silver. The story lasted long into the evening, and the tribe was enraptured the whole time. For hours, the tribe forgot their pain. They buried it in Silvers brilliant lie.

They buried it in words.

__________________________________________________________________________________________________

Far from there, in a land where winter did not touch, a young boy sat in his classroom. He was a human child, dark of skin, and ambitious to boot. His hair fell in curly raven locks, framing his face in wavey shadows. Were he a little older, the girls would be swooning over him.

Unfortunately for him, however, he was not old enough to attract any females. And to tell the truth, he preferred it that way. Even if he had known what to do with one, they would only present a distraction from his work, which he enjoyed very much. You see, he was the first Human to ever be accepted in this school of magic, and he intended to make a even greater name for his already famous species than just that.

He was currently in class, taking notes from a old Pheonix who stood at the helm of the room, lecturing in the most boring monotone imaginable. The pheonix called himself Mr. Cinder, and so did everyone else- to his face. When he was out of earshot they called him the Siren, out of irony. The actual siren on campus resented that, but she held her tongue when it came to telling Mr. Cinder about it. It likely would not go over well with him, and no-one wanted to risk burning the school again. the ruins of the older wooden place still stood a ways away.

The boy currently taking notes in his half-asleep stupor was name Aeowel, after a famous man who was said to have existed at some time. It was little more than a rumor, though, and no-one put much stock in it. Aeowel intended to make it famous for a good, real reason though.

He elbowed the boy next to him, who awoke with a start and a grunt. The boy was called Dirk by his friends, after the oddly shaped knife he carried with him whenever possible. His real name was Intonus Callitious Teches, a series of quite common names arranged in such a way as to make his real name unpronoucable. Most people just called him Iton, those who weren't his friends, that is.

"Hey," Whispered Aeowel quietly. "What say you we take a look on the third basement and see what the teachers have been hiding?"

The third basement was notoriously out-of-bounds. Supposedly, this was where the staff kept dangerous items, but most students refused to belive that. There were rumors circulating that the fountain in the main hall was not truely the fountain of magic, but a fake, a placebo.

Dirk, for his part, attempted unsuccessfully to blink the sleep from his eyes before nodding dumbly and letting his head fall with a loud CLUNK back onto his desk. Mr. Cinder looked cooly at Dirk before going back to his lecture on how Ritual Magic could be used in construction of stone housing.

[Atilliano]

The mother disappeard when Aarseral wanted to say something, so he stood up and walked away.
When he got to the shore he stopped to see Amparos swim back to the shore leaving a 'wall' of vines behind him.
Aarseral walked up on him and when they both stood before each other he said:
You are right, protection for the island is needed, and I can help you with this if you give me permission
to get into the waters and create something to help the vines keep unwanted visitors outside.

[Ghazkull]

Finally the mother had finished and released the gods. Lord Hunger had ,naturally, plans of himself.

He appeared next to a Northren village. The winter had taken it's toll and about half the small villages population had died. It seems at some point they have given up burying their dead and several were just thrown at the edge of the forest nearby. Several smaller scavengers did their best to rip out parts of the frozen corpses. The frozen lands were covered in darkness except for the light of the Moon, which gave the scenery a ghostly touch. The Maw stood there for a while and watched. He sensed every living being in the vicinity. The Northren covering in their huts, pressed to each other to prevent freezing, the small scavengers eating away their dead relatives, a pack of wolves deeper in the forest eating away at a dead moose. The Maw finally walked towards one of the frozen corpses, the small animals on it not moving away an inch. One of them even dared to growl at him. It was perfect. He grabbed it and began changing the small animal. It grew and grew and finally it was about half an meter high, a feeling of awe seemed to protude from it as it's brain reached sentience. It's hairless body seemed to shiver horribly but The maw gave him the hide of the deceased moose from nearby as clothing. But he wasn't finished yet...


Orn, Leader of the smalll tribe of Northren was the third to reach the edge of the village. Some of the small children had seen something and called for his parents. As they saw the...things they immediately called him. He laughed at the story of small intelligent beings residing since yesterday night right at the edge of the village. But Reg seemed so frightened that he finally accepted to come with him. As he reached the end of the village his eyes nearly fell out at the scene in front of him. Those beasts...they were about half an meter high, their noses nothing more than holes in their head. Their eyes were small red dots and were full of intelligence. Too much intelligence for Orns taste. They ate the corpses of the unburied dead and took from them everything they found. With morbid fascination he watched as they didn't eat the corpses but skinned them, cut away the flesh, the sinews  and carefully cleaned the bones. All of that they piled seperately in small bags of fur which Orn indentified as wolf skin. While some continued to scavenge the corpses for useful things, others suddenly moved towards the garbage pile at the edge of the village and began to rummage through it.

What in the Name of the Lord of Winter are those things?

I-i-i don't know they were suddenly there. They are doing this all morning now. I tried to chase them away but they always come back. They seem at least intelligent. Some of them chitter at each other and seem to...

Nonsense! Look at them. Such beasts can't be intelligent. Rats also chitter and they aren't intelligent. they are animals. I will kill one of them and the rest will run away.

Orn grabbed a spear and walked towards them. Reluctant they took their bags and their knives of stone and retreated. Growling Orn charged towards them. Suddenly one of the beasts began to emit a loud screeching sound and all of the beats seemed to gather and then retreat. Although he ran at full speed they were much faster and ran towards the forests. He reached them directly at the edge of it and could barely see the last one of them vanishing in an earthen hole. As he reaches it a small door made of a mix between moose-bones and wood slams shut. Although he kicks several times against it it stays shut...

Spoiler:  Murr (click to show/hide)

They are about half an meter high, hairless and walk on all four legs although they use the forefoots as hands. They life in large underground tunnel-systems in small Clans. Although they also hunt and gather themselves, they mainly live from the rubbish and refusals of the host village. When provoked through aggresive behaviour, they usually retreat into their hives, which they fiercely defend should anyone try to enter them. They possess great ingenuity and can turn things seen as rubbish into useful tools,clothes,armor and weapons. Although they don't even stop from rummaging through graves and butchering the corpses inside, they are also quite useful. Villages who have a Murr hive right next to them are usually free of any pests and insects. Being quite protective of their host villages they guard them closely and emit a high screeching sound if soemone or something is approaching the village.

The Murr-Hives themselves are nearly impenetrable. Due to their small size it is nearly impossible for larger creatures to enter the cave systems. And even if they manage to enter it, they have to find their way through the labyrinth of dozens of small tunnels. In desperate situations they
even cause artificial cave-ins to block off the entrances entirely.

The Maw creates the "Murr" small sentinent mammals.
[/i]

[blasts193]

     Kar'thos slowly stood back up and said"Well I would love to chat but I need to safeguard my sanctuary."
     Then he proceeded to sink in to the ground like it was quicksand.

[Blargityblarg]

Making various unspeakable gestures at Aarrook's back, Tass surreptitiously picks up the discarded bucket and fades from view. Reforming on the surface of Flin, Tass scoops some silver from its surface and bends his divine will to fuse the objects and reshape them into ornate goblets.

Tass steals the Wonder-Bucket and melts it down with some silver from Flin, making a bunch of goblets from it, whilst retaining the bucket's original magical properties.

[Digital Hellhound]

Amparos considered Aarseral's words for a moment. Yes, help was needed. He still felt unsure if he should let this young god tamper with his creation, and, considering his reaction to the possibility of Shaq's death, decided to decline the offer.

' Thank you for the offer, but no help is needed. Perhaps you could find use for your powers somewhere else on this island?'

[Iituem]

With no satisfactory answer, Shaq left with the others, returning to the frozen lands he knew.  Frozen indeed as winter worsened beyond mortal memory.  In times like these, the fire-wielders had a definite advantage, but Shaq wasn't yet ready to bring his word to them.  Instead he wandered the old valleys, chiefly waiting for the spark of recognition that the seed had taken root with his latest attempt at a prophet.  During his wanderings Shaq came across a lone northren, eking out a living near a cave.  He approached the northren unseen and observed him carving apart a fresh kill with a flint knife.

"That has to be the worst use of my creation I've ever seen," said Shaq.  The northren leapt up with surprise, knife still gripped in his hand.  In panic, the northren swung wildly at Shaq with the knife.  Shaq stepped, caught and proceeded to put his arm and neck into a pair of locks.  He leaned on the arm lock, causing the northren to yelp with pain.

"Very bad idea," Shaq growled.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry!" the northren squealed.  Shaq leaned harder.  It wouldn't take much more to snap the northren's arm completely.

"Sorry isn't good enough."

"Please, no!  Please, I do anything!  Let go!"

To the northren's surprise, Shaq did so.  He fell to the ground, but quickly scrambled back up, holding the knife again in preparation for another fight.

"The first thing you can do for me is learn to hold that knife right," Shaq snapped.  The northren looked down at the blade in his hand.  "Other way 'round," the demigod said.  "You hold it that way if you're trying to stab a beast, you want it facing down when you're fighting another person.  You have a height advantage, and you'll want to use downward strokes unless you're trying to kill them quietly."

"Oh."  The northren flipped the blade around clumsily.  "This help me in fight with knives?"

"No, running will help you in a fight with knives," Shaq said flatly.  "Or possibly a club, or something with longer reach.  You don't use a knife to scrap the way you do with your brothers when you're little - you use it to kill.  Knife fighting is about stacking the odds against your opponent and killing him before he has a chance to strike back.  And another thing, the way you're holding that when you carve..."

Time passed quickly enough.  By the setting of the sun, the northren (whose name was Durk) had suffered/benefited from nearly four hours of instruction on the use of his knife in hunting, killing, butchery and carving.  When the sun did set, Durk begged for the lessons to stop.

"Oh, so this isn't good enough for you?" Shaq demanded.  "You think you'll be better off using your blade like someone who's had too many fermented berries?"

"No, no, Shaq," said Durk.  "I just want sleep.  Is late, you must tired also.  We sleep now?"

"What?  Oh, right.  No, no sleep for me.  I've only done it the once and it was a bad experience.  You still want to learn more, then?"

"Yes, Shaq!  Yes, but in the morning.  Please, I sleep now."  Shaq rolled his eyes at the mortal frailty.

"Fine.  Sleep."


Time passed again - hours of training in the morning turns to days, and days to weeks.  More than three months passed of this constant training in all matters knife-related, often with very physical testing and examination.  During this time, Durk broke or sprained each of his limbs at least three times, or Shaq broke them for him.  He healed at a much faster rate than he would have supposed, but it was still enough of a hindrance for him to learn how to fight and handle blades when injured.  The winter raged, and all around became barren and frost-filled, but with his new skills of hunting, Durk slew enough game to survive - barely.  It was to his fortune that the stranger who had come to his cave ate rarely - if at all.  Durk supposed that he must eat during the night when Durk slept.

Durk awoke one morning to find Shaq stood at the entrance to the cave.  He wore the deerskin cloak that Durk had fashioned for him, as well as a rough pouch filled with - well, knives.  The stranger certainly had an odd idea of provisioning.  Durk sat up, and noticed that it was light already; Shaq preferred to rouse Durk (violently) before dawn for training.

"We start training late today?" Durk asked.  Shaq shook his head, half staring out at the albino valley beyond.  It was snowing hard.

"No, no training," said Shaq.  "It is time for me to leave."  Durk blinked.

"Leave the valley?  Winter less harsh, but still not clear to travel through passes."

"Regardless, it is time for me to leave."  Durk stood up, scrummaging around the darker, cooler portion of the cave where he kept his more perishable belongings.

"So, you taught me all you know?" asked Durk, bringing forward a package for the stranger.  Shaq barked short laughter.

"No.  Not by a long stretch, Durk, but I need to go.  I am tired, and I don't know when I will wake again."  Durk frowned at the comment - he didn't understand such, but he didn't need to.  Durk passed the package to Shaq.  Shaq raised an eyebrow and opened the scrap of folded deerskin - it contained some dried meat and a handful of the last lingonberries Durk still possessed.

"Is gift," Durk explained.  "Help you on journey."

"Durk, you know I don't need this."

"Still, is gift."  Durk folded Shaq's hands over the package.  Shaq put one hand over Durk's and caught his eye.

"Durk, I don't think I can have them, but if I can I think I should count you as my friend."  He pulled back his hands and stuffed the package of food into his pouch, glancing back out to the valley.  The snowfall was thick now, obscuring vision beyond more than a few feet.  "We will not meet again, Durk.  Teach what I have taught you, if only so that I don't have to do this all over again."

Shaq made a sort of half-smile, then stepped out into the snow and vanished from Durk's sight.


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

Jack spends time teaching a northren how to use a knife for fighting, hunting and craftswork.

[Atilliano]

No, our powers don't work on the island, only around it, so I will just go back to the mainland again.
With these words Aarseral disappeard...

Standing in the middle of a highly forested location Aarseral began to gather his powers...
A new kind of tree began to grow in a large circle called Restera.
Restera are trees that grow by the will of the god of life and never die except for when he wants it or with very powerful magic.
Aarseral made the trees form a wall by letting the branches grow against each other.
this magical wall stops any outsiders which are not welcome in the place behind it by moving its spikey branches to attack an intruder and is called The Restera Circle.
Aarseral gathered much animals and when there were enough of them in the circle he closed it and gave every creature the feeling to go away of the wall if near it.
Then he created a large stone in the middle of the circle with ancient textures on it which only he understanded.
He began to read them out loud and when he was done, the stone protected the creatures within the circle with the magic it receaved from Aarseral.
He called the stone Vestera, sat down next to it and began meditating.

Aarseral creates the Restera Circle, a circle of magic trees that grow when the god of life desires it and protects whats inside.
Aarseral gathers non-sentient creatures in the circle and closes it.
Aarseral creates the Vestera, a stone that has life magic drawn from the essence and protects the creatures within the circle.

[Fortis]

Kastheen was pleased with her island in the sky, it was quite a canvas to work from. She envisioned a palace for herself on it, and a home for some of the Mayura. But she had tasks to tend to now. She intended to make this island more than just a home. It would be a place to watch over the storms and weather of the world, and a way to correct the problems that arose. At least, once it was done.

She also had to help protect the island of Nativa. Amparos had already began to make a defense, creating a barrier of aquatic vines to surround it. It would be an effective barrier against mortals, but Kastheen was concerned about stronger opponents, even gods that might intrude whom the vines couldn’t stop. She wanted a mobile defense too, something that couldn’t just be bypassed and left behind. She needed a guardian. But what to do? She wasn’t sure what sort of guardian to make. Should it be a fierce hunter of the sky? Or a predator of the land? Or maybe she should try her hand at making a creature to live in Amparos’ realm. In the end, she decided to do all three.

She left her flying island, and soared over the lands and seas. Searching far and wide, she found the strongest hunters of land, air and sea. She returned to her island bringing a giant eagle, a fierce lion, and a powerful sea serpent borrowed from Amparos’s ocean. On her island, she combined the three into one giant creature. It bore the wings of the eagle, the body of the lion, and the long tail of the sea serpent, and upon its shoulders it had the heads of all three. Kastheen didn’t stop there, but blessed it with intelligence, and the power of her storms. The serpent had power over water, the eagle wind, and the lion lightning. Kastheen called her guardian beast the Chimera.

“Where are we?” The lion asked, as the Chimera awoke into its intelligence. It got to its feet, all three heads looking around on the floating island.

“You are at my home,” Kastheen said. All three of the heads looked down at her.

“Who are you?” The sea serpent asked with a hiss.

“I am Kastheen, the storm warden, mistress of the sky and storms.” Kastheen answered. “I’ve created you to help me with an important task. Below us, in the wide domain of Amparos, lies the island of Nativa, my Mother. I would like you to guard this island from any who would wish Nativa harm. My brother Amparos is aiding me with this task.”

“I know the name Kastheen, you who gave the birds intelligence,” the eagle said. “I’m grateful that you saw fit to give that gift to me as well. I will do this task.”

“And I know the name Amparos, the lord of the deep sea. Any ally of him is an ally of mine. I will aid you, so long as it pleases us.” The sea serpent said.

“As will I. I was the mightiest in the land, and now you’ve given me the strength to hunt in sea and air as well.” The Lion added. “I look forward to testing this new strength.” With a roar, a hiss, and a cry of an eagle, the Chimera leapt into the air and began gliding towards the island. Kastheen, meanwhile, went down to the sea to tell Amparos of the new guardian she made, and make sure his barrier of vines didn’t attack the Chimera.

Kastheen created the Chimera by merging a giant eagle, a lion, and a sea serpent. It has the body of a lion, the wings of the eagle, and the tail of the sea serpent and the heads of all three. She also gave it the power of storms, each head controlling a different aspect of it, the eagle wind, the sea serpent water, and the lion lightning.

[Digital Hellhound]

The surface of the lake was disrupted for a moment as the spear plunged in after a silver-scaled fish. The sharpened stone tip cut deep into the silver-scale's side. Taenas grinned in triumph, and pulled the spear back out of the waters. Hunting fish with a spear was not what any man could claim to have mastered, but Taenas was no ordinary man. He had survived the wilds and the exile. And now he ruled his own tribe. Sure, it was nowhere the size of his old one, only a few hundred men and women. If he was not their leader, though, they would've died out ages ago. With the savage Northren in the east and barren badlands in the north and west, life was hard. Especially after this winter, which had felt like an actual, directed attack against his tribe.

' Geshar, come here! I have done it yet again!' Taenas shouted to his son, sitting somewhere behind him. His first wife - Nellan - had truly been blessed, and Taenas sat at the head of an enormous family as a result. Nellan had been claimed by the winter, alongside many of his sons and daughters.
' Yes, Father, I can see that. Could I try my hand in it as well?' Geshar said, and slid down the hill. Taenas nodded, handing him the spear. What harm could there be in it?
This was the first time they had come to fish at this lake, and it was already proving it's worth. Perhaps he could persuade the tribe to... remain here, and not move on, like normally.

Geshar held the spear in his hands unsteadily - the boy was not much of a hunter, even though he was as clever as a fox. A streak of silver and movement raced past them in the waters. Geshar followed it with his gaze, readying the spear. The fish turned back for another go, and Geshar lashed out with the spear.
 
The next things happened too fast for him to comprehend. The spear connected with the fish, grazing a fin. Something, like an enormous claw of water, struck out from the depths. Geshar fell - or was pulled - into the lake, blood flowing into the water from his wounds. The boy tried to scream, but was quickly devoured by the waters.
Silence fell upon the lake, Taenas too shocked to say anything.
 
For a while, nothing happened. Then, with a deep rumble, two claws identical to the first one rose from beneath the surface, and after them, a massive, armoured head. Two flecks of ice blue stared at Taenas, who could not do anything but stare in horror. The abomination became higher and higher, more claws appearing and dragging it out of the sea. Soon it towered above the human leader, dripping water on the dry shore.
 
There was no sacrifice, little thing. You dare to trespass in my realm, without sacrifice?
 
The voice spoke inside his head, even though the thing had no visible mouth. Taenas tried to speak, but he was frozen with terror.
 
Though... ah, I see. You lead your disgusting little people. Maybe... maybe you could still be of use to me. Go to your... tribe, and return here with them. Tell them... the healthiest and strongest of them all. Bring them to me, and I will spare your lives. Perhaps... perhaps you will even see your... son again, some day.
Go, little man. I am Telazar of the malenar and I your new lord and master. Go, and spread the word.
 
Taenas was half-way up the hill when the creature began to laugh, and did not stop running until he could no longer hear the voice. He could not think clearly, but knew he had to do as the creature had said. He did not wish to die, not yet, not now.

Telazar of the malenar takes control of a human tribe.

[nuker w]

The Wanderer moved swiftly, forming a portal in a small forest, just east of a Northen village. Many things had consumed his mind recently. He had watched in the dark, as his many other siblings had all taken their place around the world. Appearing in his normal form, he began to walk towards the village. Here even... he thought. A God of Winter has formed a race in such an extreme place, as this barren, freezing wasteland.

Yet... Had he done such an amazing feat?

As he walked through the small village, the people of this strange village turned and stared at him, as he made his was towards the center of the village. The God of the Sea... As noble a person he seems, has such a large domain, of which, no mortal could live without of...

Yet did the people of this realm rely on his domain to survive?

The woman of the village moved their children into the safety of their homes, as the men went in search of weapons. This God of Night... They control a realm so powerful, that it makes the inhabitants of this world run, in search of heat and light, to keep them safe.

Yet, does my realm strike such fear into the hearts of this plane?

The God, lost in his own mind, bumped into something. Looking up, he realised he had made it to the center of the village. As his sight made its way up, he found himself face to face with the leader of the village. And what are you doing, VILE THING, in my village, scareing the children and corrupting the hearts of our people, with your strange presence? And as the Northen's words came to him, so did The Wanderers answer. This is not my place. Looking into the eyes of the leader, he said Indeed... What AM I doing here?.. Before the villagers could react, their Leader screamed in agony, falling to his knees, as the man disappeared in a flash, causing a nearby house to catch into flames. Once certain that their leader would be fine, they went on to douse the flames, never once did his image leave their eyes.

If the cold wasteland, nor the deep sea, nor the heavens above or the dark night are my place to be... the God whispered to himself. Then in time... THIS place, will be mine to effect. Turning his back, he formed a portal to the Abyss, before shaking the hot sand off his back and leaving the desert for another, more worthy time, of when, he would claim this place; as his own.

[dragnar]

The gods departed the island of the overgoddess, one by one. Soon Endras was the last god remaining on the island, and still he did not move. He sat, and the world outside continued to turn. He was not needed for it's proper function like the other gods he had met, there was even another god of magic to keep the less natural parts of the world in order. Endras was unnecessary... and so, he thought as he rose from his seat, why not shake things up a bit? "I have given the future mages a way to harness power... now to give them something to aspire to."

With that short statement to nothing, he walked off the island, into the ocean below. He continued walking downward, even when the sea ended he did not stop. Deeper and deeper he went, to the very core of the world. Once there, he stretched out a hand and pulled a single gossamer strand from a point at the very center. The strand wrapped itself around his arm as he began the trip back to the surface. "For stability."

Endras creates The Heart of The World.(one act artifact, does nothing. I just want it for later.)

[Caesar]

Important! Wiki experts: Please add the artifacts, changes to gods, races, relations, tribes and other creations made during this turn to the wiki. Important!

Turn three: Poor Aching Bones

Endras creates the demigod Regnal, and tasks it to guard the Wellspring of Nature. - One act

Spoiler (click to show/hide)

Regnal resembles a phoenix constructed from blue fires. He has no real physical body.

Endras tasks Regnal to guard the Wellspring of Nature, teaching mortals about magic before letting them take a crystal. One crystal is to grow limitlessly. - No acts

The Winter Lord creates the Rimefire Pinnacle, which glitters in the sun like an icy diamond and would serve as a focus for his abilities, drawing magical energy from the earth. - Two acts

Tass endows supernatural beauty on a female named Petra in Silver's tribe. Her face is such that any male Northren who sees her will be filled with jealous rage. - One act
Tass travels to the Island of the Gods. - No acts

The Wanderer creates the Omni, a small race of empty husks, whose goal is to find the forgotten souls of the living realm and to guide them back to the abyss. - One act

Terron creates the Citadel of Light. - Two acts

Spoiler (click to show/hide)

The Citadel of Light is an enormous keep constructed of Diamond. During the night it illuminates the landscape around it. For those looking at it it seems opaque. To those inside of it the structure is clear.

Jack introduces the Silver tribe to Ceremonial Burial. - No acts
Jack forms the Covenant, embodied in a Trothstone - One act

Spoiler (click to show/hide)

- This covenant contains the power to fulfill itself and cannot be broken until the stone is.
- The covenant is that those who kill and dedicate the kill to Jack shall increase in strength, speed and skill.

Jack attempts - and fails - to murder the Overgoddess. - No acts

The lord of Death creates Masayoshi, an divine obsidian sword that is meant to deal justice. - One act
The lord of Death creates Bōei , an divine obsidian armor designed to protect from Godly influence. - One act

Khan fights an imaginary fight to draw a crowd. - No acts (It's just a meagre display of your Godly powers.)
Khan creates an alter out of the soil on the far end of the arena, granting those strength when they ask for it, but relieving them of that strength after their next battle. - One act

The Psychopomp rests. - No acts

Carmanthyre looses a burst of light that burns the wicked. - One act (No effect. There is no inherent 'Good' or 'Evil' for Gods and mortals. It are the actions that make them. It is also almost completely nullified by the influence of Nativa's island.)

Nativa tells a story.

Voltarucus creates the Vulpan, and instills in them the gift of creation. - Two acts

Spoiler (click to show/hide)

The Vulpen are brown-skinned humanoids, with a smooth skin that seems to somehow flicker like dust in the wind (although it doesn't). In case they wear clothes they are always clothed in green clothes of some form, although no particular style is yet decided. Your average Vulpan is talented at one of common crafts that require certain skill and dedication, and also has the finesse to walk silently and to hear things that others can't

Spoiler (click to show/hide)

Voltarucus intends for the Vulpans to be skilled smiths of any sort, although they are quick enough to follow other avenues of revenue in time. Their society  very tightly on family, and thus the hierarchy is determined by your family. Those born from the First are higher than those born from the Fourth, for instance. New Vulpans are created whenever an adult Vulpan chooses, they plant a seed (by putting a finger to the ground, and it grows into a child).

The Lord of Winter changes the winters to be harsh this turn. - One act

Akiel introduces the Northren to metallurgy and bronze. - One act

Carmanthyre creates a golden bucket that carries twice as much liquid as it's volume would normally allow. Unfortunately, gold is incredibly heavy and so is water, rendering the artifact difficult to carry for most mortals. - One act

The Wanderer allows the lost and forgotten spirits, who will be brought to the void by the Omni, to freely roam the endless planes of the Void. - No acts

Rahisael creates the Bloodghosts, creatures that are occasionally born whenever blood is spilled. In other cases the soul of a bloodthirsty warrior might become one after death. - Two acts (as it is a universal 'enchantment'.)

Spoiler (click to show/hide)

A blood ghost is a invisible, immaterial, creature that consumes blood to become stronger. Once it has consumed enough blood it creates a body for itself, by using nearby materials. Those materials can be anything: Flesh, wood, bone, stone, iron, bronze.. If they use flesh they make sure that their core consists of something like bone or stone in case the flesh rots away.

Abominations will usually have a humanoid shape and will be as big. Though, if they get enough blood some might keep adding new mass to their body until they are giants.

A bloodghost inhabiting such a body is called an abomination. They are sentient, but lack "Good" emotions like love, mercy and remorse and only follow Rahisaels orders and their lust for battle.

A Bloodghost is immortal; But to keep it`s body "active" it needs to consume blood. If it doesn`t consume enough blood it will wither and become weaker- If it loses too much power it will be trapped inside the body, unable to move.

However, even a little amount of blood is enough to reactivate the body and to keep it active for a day.

If such a body is destroyed the bloodghost can build a new one once it drank enough blood. If their body is damaged it will use nearby materials to repair it.

Rahisael orders all abominations to go to a cave in a mountain. He calls this cave the 'peak of blood'.

Amparos creates the Circle of Protection around the Island of the Gods. - One act

Kastheen levitates one of the islands from the ocean into the air. How high it goes and where it flies is under her control. - Two acts

The Lord of Hunger creates the 'Murr', small sentient mammals. - One act

Tass steals the Wonder-Bucket and melts it down with some silver from Flin, making a bunch of goblets from it, whilst retaining the bucket's original magical properties. - One act

Jack spends time teaching a Northren how to use a knife for fighting, hunting and craftswork. - No act

Aarseral creates the Restera Circle, a circle of magic trees that grow when the god of life desires it and protect what is inside. - One act
Aarseral guides a pack of non-sentient animals inside the Restera Circle.
Aarseral creates the Vestera, a stone that protects the animals within the Restera Circle. - One act

Kastheen created the Chimera by merging a giant eagle, a lion, and a sea serpent. It has the body of a lion, the wings of the eagle, and the tail of the sea serpent and the heads of all three. She also gave it the power of storms, each head controlling a different aspect of it, the eagle wind, the sea serpent water, and the lion lightning. It is incredibly strong, its power tapping directly from raw essence, instead of the more sophisticated magics. - Two acts

Telazar of the malenar threatens a human chieftain in an attempt to make his tribe follow him.

The Wanderer visits a human village, eventually burning down a hut. - No acts

Endras creates The Heart of The World. - One act (Please send me a PM about this artifact/your plans on it. I would like to know more about it.)


All Gods had abandoned her island, exactly as planned. Nativa watched, beyond even the sight of the Gods, as they returned to the mortal realm, to the abyss, to the Womb. She would, perhaps, have another meeting, at another time. With an earthquake that caused Amparos' realm to shudder and tremble, the island began to sink, eventually leaving naught but clear, deep water and a murderous ring of aquatic plant-life.
It took her breath away how efficiently time could undo the ability of the Gods to influence the world, and how, as the Gods slumbered, the world kept spinning.

Few traveled the Womb. They were, after all, in need of no more than the right amount of food to survive. The last few winters punished those that lived by this philosophy by making their game sparse, killing the plants they gathered, and by, more importantly, taking away their children. This caused the various tribes to migrate either to warmer areas or to new grounds and new food.
A small human hunting party with chipped wooden spears had traveled away, seeking to feed their tribe with food from far.

"I think I heard something.."
The leader hit him over the head, hissing at him in an elevated whisper.
"If you heard it, so did we, you swine! You may very well have killed your daughter by chasing away her food."

The party moved through the undergrowth, all seven men on their stomachs. Every once in a while they heard something, the sound of rustling leaves, snow falling down from branches, until they all froze to the ground on the same moment: A voice.
Unsure of themselves they looked at one another.
"Nobody ever perceived these lands.."
"It sounds different from us..."
"I think-"
"Quiet!"

The leader pushed up his torso and bent back his neck to gain as much height as he could. His eyes were met by a fountain and a strange bird-like entity, spreading a blue light onto the fountain that menaced with spikes of crystal. He spoke to them in a screeching but clear voice.

I am Regnal, Son of Endras, Guardian of the Wellspring of Nature, your teacher. You are my students.

Instinctively sensing the power of both the fountain and the creature, the humans agreed to be his pupils for ten years, a decade.

Silver returned to find his tribe to find the tribe split in two. Although blood had not been shed this time, many of his people had chosen that technology was indeed a path to follow. They had taken up the forbidden knowledge of fire, learned the secrets of metal, and the art of utilizing knives to their full potential. Some of them had taken up the art of being specialized knife-dancers of Shaq, Lord of Knives. Some had even chosen to cover those that were killed by the cold with rocks, instead of leaving them for winter to claim or eating them to prevent wasting meat.
Those that followed the old ways were outnumbered, they were the remnants of the old way of life. Silver stubbornly led his people higher into the mountains.

In those harsher times, there were those that did prosper. In the more temperate regions of the continent, a peaceful tribe had made the step of progressing from hunter-gatherers to a farmer community. They had continued worshiping the arena their village was built around, they had continued attempts to improve their huts to match the style of construction that the arena harnessed, and they had grown impatient after about a decade. Their fields, primitive and crude, produced enough for their population to slowly grow. Their fires cleared forests to make space, and the ashes were used to make the ground even more fertile. They made mortar and pestle by scraping more malleable stones into the right shapes, and they made flat, hard bread from the grain that they crushed with their new tools. They wove straw clothing instead of sewing hides with sinew to fulfill their needs for clothing.
With peace came restlessness. While peaceful and prosperous, the men could no longer prove their worth in the hunt, for they could not leave their fields for enough time to go hunt. The men, in their never-ending quest to impress the women, started using the arena that had given birth to their village, cautiously, careful, and with the rules the God had given them.

The Vulpan were a new race, and their already small population was greeted by maliciously dangerous winters. While not killing all of them, it reduced their populations greatly before they had established their village. Some froze before they wore clothes, others were killed before they could make spears. Those that survived feared getting sick in the winter that tormented them. When their first spring came, eliminating the snow and ice, they were relieved. They explored the forests quickly, locating all sources of food. They vigorously collected these, hunting, plucking and picking to store it all in hollowed out trees, collecting food for the winter to come.

There were very few forgotten spirits on the womb. Most were cried for and then left to be reclaimed by Nature, some were buried, but few died alone.
Still, there were those that did, and most of them were taken back to the abyss instead of the many afterlives that they had imagined. Among those that roamed the Abyss was Ictor, inventor of fire.

The Murr were parasites to their hosts, but the Murr were not stupid. From a troubled host they could not feed many, and as such they decided to split their tribe into two. The half that left traveled for a long while, losing three out of four tribe-members, before they found a new home.
Agriculture would be able to support both them and their hosts. The Murr dug their hive near the village, in one of the patches of farmland.

A small tribe of humans met disaster. An ethereal being had threatened them and killed the son of the chieftain.
It took no more than a day for them to start traveling away of the lake in fear, leaving behind part of their possessions.

They eventually reached one of the coasts, thinned in number, and there the Chieftain explained to them how to use their spears to fish. Their clumsy and skill-less fishing managed to keep them alive, but barely. It was not until a few years later that their population remained stable.

The Wanderer had appeared in the mortal realm once, but his short stay had inspired fear in the mortals already. In a decade, they had told one another stories about this figure, called by them the 'Lord of Impatience'.
In the end, they used him as a bogeyman to scare their children when they were impatient, telling them that they would have to live with him if they did not patiently wait whenever it was needed in their lives.


Nativa's island sinks into the depths.

Seven humans agree to train for being mages at the Wellspring of Nature.
Endras is now associated with the 'Phoenix'

Ashes to Ashes
Silver's tribe splits in two, one bigger part struggling to use the new technologies they have been taught, another living through the old ways.
Silver leads his tribe to live in the mountains.
Shaq gains the sphere 'Knives'.
Shaq gains the sphere 'Hunt'.
Shaq gains the title 'Lord of Knives'.

Bread and Circuses
The tribe of the Colosseum invents agriculture.
The tribe of the Colosseum invents cloth fiber clothing.
The tribe of the Colosseum starts using the Colosseum with the men regularly holding duels to impress the women.

The Vulpan lose most of their population in the first winter.

Some spirits go to the Abyss.
Ictor roams the abyss as a forgotten soul.

Migrating Rodents
The Murr tribe splits in two.
Most of the migrating Murr die.
The traveler Murr find a new host in the tribe of the Colosseum.

Time to Run
Telazars threat makes Taenas' tribe travel to the coast.
Taenas' tribe reaches near-extinction.
Taenas' tribe reaches stable population.

Scared the Children
The Wanderer gains the title 'Lord of Impatience'.
The Wanderer is used as a bogeyman by a tribe of humans.

Code: [Select]

Aarseral: 2
Aarrook: 3
Amparos: 2
Endras: 4
Kar'Thos: 3
Kastheen: 3
Magus: 6
The Lord of Death: 3
The Lord of Winter: 3
The Psychopomp: 3
The Wanderer: 2
Phera: 5
Akiel: 3
Carmanthyre: 3
Jack: 3
Killa Khan: 3
Lord Hunger: 3
Terron: 2
Rahisael: 2
Tass: 2
Voltarucus: 2

[Karnewarrior]

Age.

The Ageless cannot percieve time as passing. To a immortal, a thousand years passes as a second to any normal man. And though the Northren were long-lived people, they were not immortal. Not as the gods and demigods were. They did not live as long as the trees, or the wind, or winter.

Silver was old. Quite old, infact. It was rare for a northren nowadays to remeber the time when the world was young, centuries ago, but Silver did. He had lived twice the life of a normal northren, touched with divinity. He was not immortal, though, and so he hobbled out of his cave, bent as a twig in a gale.

"We cannot live upon this mountain..." Rasped Silver to the blade that sat by the wall. The sword did not respond. Silver did not care, continuing despite the stubborn silence of his patron diety.

"Long is the time you and I have lived, milord. But you will live forever, and I will not." Silver shuffled accross the cave mouth and hoisted the blade with a grunt. "I have found you a new wielder."

"I don't wanna new wielder!" Said the god inside in the voice of a small child.

"I think you will like this young man." Said Silver in the tone that a father speaks to a child. "He is surely hero material." Silver bent over in a coughing fit. Something bright leapt from the blade. A small boy, dressin shining silver armor and a velvet cape. His arms were crossed and his lips pursed in a simply immature pout.

"No!" He said.

Silver sighed and gripped the blade tighter. If the hero god didn't wish to leave him, then he would have to force him away. Silver turned and hurled the sword out of the cave mouth.

The cave, as it happened, was on the highest point on the mountain. A cliff made the climb treacherous at the best of times, and now, it sent the sword clattering down the moutainside. Carmanthyre howled and scrabbled downwards after it, casting forlorn looks at the old man, who stood in the cave with a sad smile on his face. As Carmanthyre watched, Silver turned and went back into the cavern.

__________________________________

Later, there was a funeral. There was no burial, as Shaq had dictated, but the northren had their own cerimonies, and Silver's corpse was lain upon a slab of wood. No-one noticed the small boy in the back, looking for all the world as if it was his father that had just died in his sleep. The boy wore little but a deep black loincloth and a sad expression.

And when the funeral was over, and the tribe had turned to leave the corpse to winter, the boy was gone.

In the cave on the mountain, inscribed in the stone, was a small scrap of text. No-one could read it, for no-one could read, and even if they could have, it was in the text of the gods.

In this place once lived Silver.

May his spirit find peace amongst the stars.

Silver dies
Carmanthyre scratches a message into the stone of Silvers last dwelling.
Carmanthyre heads south.