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[ragnarok97071]

The Wanderer? I do not know much. Only that he seems to hold a grudge of some sort against the rest of the Gods, and against life in general. His sphere is that of the Void, and he acts as such. I do not do much that concerns him, though I am aware of his actions and am considering acting upon it.
He extends his hands, and begins drawing in power to open a door to the surface, and something unforeseen happens.
Suddenly, a wave of power roars through the Vein, and is drawn into the Mage. An explosion tears through him, changing him. In the most basic sense, he is the same. His power is unchaged, he is still a god of Magic, but now the careful control, the bound nature of his magic is washed away by the pure, chaotic energy of the Vein.
He is, in many ways, a new god, and his appearance changes to fit this. Gone is the cloak and runes, replaced by a man, with bare chest covered in lines of power, coursing like tattoos through his form. Blue hair falls to his mid-back,also shot through with Magical energy, and he wears a set of baggy leggings which incorporate some sort of sheath for a circular weapon, though it contains nothing at the moment. The only remaining hint of what he once was is a golden glow in his eyes, in which occasionally can be seen a symbol which describes an important event.
I must thank you for creating these lines of power... Nashara, is it? Anyway, you have no idea how long I've been waiting for that stodgy bastard to make a mistake. Anyway, I figure I should make good on his promise, so I'll serve as your tour guide to the Surface. Fat lot of good I'll do of it, due to not actually seeing it for myself, but I have his memories to draw on, so I shouldn't screw up that badly.
With a gesture, he finishes opening the door, and steps through.
Magus has become dormant
An unnamed Chaotic Mage god has taken his place.

[Demantiae]

The Shaper, Part 1.

Neshara felt the surge of energy coursing from the earth into the magic god and she smiled. The transfiguration of a god was surely the most potent transmutation there was! She stalked over to the new god and traced across the lines that scored his flesh with her many hands. The pulse of life within him was now palpable, her heart beat as one with his. The two gods made a divine connection. Neshara was afraid of The Magus, but this one she was in sympathy with. This one was no Artificer but instead a Shaper like her. “I like this one better” was all she said.

Neshara stepped through the portal with the new god. It was time to explore The Womb, for both of them.

[Lordinquisitor]

Laundarion lazily mustered the assembly below. Over the last few hours he had released some of the hatred stored within the orb; Instilling officers and other would be leaders with hate towards the Chosen. It took some time, even for him, to figure out how much hate was needed to achieve his goal, (And some of his test subjects ended up fighting each other.) but now everything worked according to his plan.

"Will you lead them to battle, Laundarion?" Asked Jof, his self proclaimed most fervent follower.

"Rahisael supports boldness, that is true. But that is madness. Attacking them just squanders our resources. They are out there, near the river, and will most likely tear any attackers to shreds. I say we should wait here and defend the walls. If they don`t bring any reinforcements we should be able to repel every attack they throw at us."

"Then we should try to persuade them that it`s foolish to attack them."

"I did. But they are deaf and won`t listen to my sound reasoning. I have seen many warriors like them. Some just crack under pressure. The refugees filled them with tales of fear and of vengeance. A few think that they are doomed if they wait; A few just want to spill their fishy guts as fast as possible and others are just driven mad by the wish for freedom. The freedom to leave the city. Even if they usually wouldn`t leave it and would stay in their comfy homes all day. But that`s the nature of men and gods alike; They always want more and are never happy with the things they have."

Laundarion looked grave; But Rahisael smiled. Everything was working.

"Let`s try it one more time, eh?"

He pointed Gutwrencher at the warriors below. Blood dripped from the point of the spear down onto the streets.

"If you sally forth you`ll be wounded, maimed and killed. I will ask Rahisael for a blessing, but i doubt that he`s willing to support such foolish behavior. Hear my voice. Stay here and live; Go forth and die."

And while he spoke he released more of the hatred stored within the sphere. The blood of the crowd boiled and cries of anger followed his speech.

"Coward! We will defeat them. They look like fish and like fish we will gut them!"

"Follow me to glory!" Shouted one Warrior.

"Open the gates!" Commanded another.

"The arena is more dangerous than that Playground there. Let`s go men!" Declared one eager fighter.

The gates opened and the "heroes" stormed out of the city; Shouting and crying, running towards the Host of the Chosen. Undisciplined, brave and foolish.

Laundarion looked grave. But Rahisael smiled.

----

Rahisael releases most of the hatred stored within the sphere to "persuade" some of the warriors of Dordrath to attack the Chosen.

[Digital Hellhound]

Ghuran sank his teeth into the warm meat on the table, relishing in it's taste. The lands around Dordrath were rich indeed. His decision to raid the countryside first instead of simply transporting the army straight to Dordrath via Portal Spheres had paid off. The sheer amount of goods and slaves taken from the villages had forced them to keep four Portal Spheres active all day long. Some said there were not enough trainers for all the slaves they brought in, or use for the goods. Larger villages, such as the one called Drywall, also contained much-valued bronze and iron. Even better, some of the slaves captured knew the mysterious art of metalworking. He would soon have a throne of bronze, something he had always dreamed of.

'My Chieftain, the scouts have urgent news.' muttered a respectful voice. Ghuran looked up at the face of Mehal, one of his most trusted warriors. Behind him, in the doorway of the tent, stood two Low Blood men, out of breath and panting. Ghuran grunted. Low Blood were simply not suited for the life of a warrior.

'What?' he asked, taking another bite of his meal. The scouts visibly winced, seeing his teeth rip the meat to shreds in seconds. The first scout forced himself to speak anyhow.

'The humans... they are coming. My lord, they... they have more warriors than I have ever seen. It is like the sea itself stands against us.'

Ghuran ignored the blasphemy and stood up, grinning. Finally. The weaklings had been hiding behind their oversized walls and despite his best efforts, Ghuran had not been able to think up a way to bring them down. Now they were finally coming out, perhaps realizing their cowardice. Even superior numbers did not worry him. He had come up with a plan to crush them once and for all. Some of his commanders had publicly criticized the plan. He had had the traitors executed.

'Mehal, pull the troops back to the river. Sehran,' he said, addressing one of his sons in the darkness of the tent, ' get the weavers of the Portals ready. The plan won't work without them.'

He paused, looking around for the two scouts. ' You two, find your brethren and tell the commanders to begin their skirmishing attacks. Confuse and weaken the humans to the best of your ability.'

The men seemed surprised at first, but then nodded and disappeared outside. Ghuran smiled and marched over to the weapon rack Low Blood craftsmen had constructed just for him. A magnificent, long spear of bronze waited upon it, something he had found from the ruins of Drywall.

If everything went right, Dordrath's army would only see the few troops behind the river and, angered by the skirmishers' attacks, charge straight at them. The Portal weavers would wait until they had crossed the river and then bring the rest of the army crashing down onto their backs. The weaklings would no doubt break, allowing the skirmishers to pursue and hunt them down in the fields.

The Chosen pull back behind the river, hoping to draw Dordrath's army into their trap.

Skirmishers begin hit-and-run attacks on the army

[Atilliano]

A small dot of light oversaw Dordrath and the fields around it. Through its eyes, an immortal figure watched as the two armies prepared for battle...
Should he do something about the battle? What if it's just the same like what happened in the village when he intervenes? Should he safe the human lives?
No... The humans have proven themselves as malicious barbarians who feel only pride, hate and, most of all, desire... Desire for money, power and might. They even go so far as to mutate their bodies into strange fish-like beings, only to be even more powerful. The Forologh and Vulpans feel love and sadness, while the humans only feel a small amount of those feelings, the good feelings. The humans will die alone, in pools of their own blood, caused by their own blood...
Aarseral turns around, looking into a southern forest, then, he walks up to his apprentice...

Aarseral abandons all humans to their fate, and concentrates on the southern part of the Womb, leaving the northern part to it's blood-thirsty warlust.

[ragnarok97071]

Alright, I'm glad that you find me interesting, but it's hard to dredge up this guys memories when I don't have distractions, let alone with them.
Before them, the Tower of the Magi thrusts from the ground, cut out of a single cluster of crystal, reflecting the light of the Laylines on which it is built.
Alright, I have it. This is the Tower, it's not very interesting, really. The only part of it that i'm interested in is the mages, and they should be gone by now. Over there is the aerie, it houses the... Myuri? that choose to live here and learn from... huh, I guess I have more than one promise to live up to. If you have any questions, ask them, or we could move on to the next part of the tour.

[Ghazkull]

The feelings of Revenge inside the charging madmen forced Lord Hunger to giggle. It was an amazing feeling although something else draw his attention...something had changed...the whole Womb seemed to have changed.

A new variable in the game? interesting...

he considered inspecting this new variable whether it was another player but the Maw decided against it...it was just too much fun watching those "Good" people slaughtering each other and forcing their Creators to turn on each other.
___________________________________

The Murr-Crickets were digging at high-speed. But still their master whipped them and screeched at them to dig faster. The Underguts were progressing at an enormous speed but still the Great Council was unsatisfied. And then this strange beating of the earth. Since it had begun digging had become increasingly dangerous at this speed. Every now and then parts of the tunnel collapsed if they weren't supported immediately after digging.

Trickels was one of said diggers. He was just on his way back to the next Outpost to sleep a bit as he suddenly had a strange feeling.

Brrr...brrr....slow...fine boy...

Something in this tunnel was wrong. The cricket was obviously shivering in discomfort. Something drew on him...something was left of here. Although heknew that his cricket was totally exhausted heneede to know what was behind that earthen wall. His whip cracked down on the already exhausted Murr-Cricket and forced it to dig a side-tunnel. The Urge of the palce became stronger and Trickels forced his Cricket to dig even faster but now without the whip as it now began to feel the pull itself. As they made progress the pullbecoem that strong that Trickels began to dig himself. Faster and faster and alhough both were short from collapsing they increased their speed. Trickels paws and became bloody but the pain was drowned out by the Urge to dig further. Suddenly the wall broke down and they stumbled into a natural cave. But something was different life was flourishing here in an unnatural way. The floors and walls were covered in moss and fluorescent fungus, a small stream was dividing the cave into two halves and eyeless fishes were swimming in the dim light of the cave. Trickles felt strangely at peace and sat down. This place was so full of energy...it almost seemed magical...exhausted he dropped on the moss and fell asleep next to his Murr-Cricket.

A Murr digs into a cave made by the magical veins...

[Digital Hellhound]

Samal's mind burned.

It had been two days since he had discovered the veins of energy crossing his underground stream, changing and twisting the fishlife and filling it with Neshara's blood. The fish had grown in size unbelievably fast, drinking the raw, divine energy. He had simply studied them at first, wondering about the appearance of the veins. Nothing interesting had happened to his little stream, hidden from mortal eyes deep underground, before.

Then he had made the mistake of drawing in some of the energy.

It had felt wondrous at first - every fibre of his being filled with new, incredibly strenght. His senses had become much sharper, his control of the river much simpler. Overjoyed at his new life, Samal had descended upon the veins and started drinking, pulling more and more of the amazing energy into him. It had tasted so much like blood.
But he was no mere animal. The fish were simple of mind already, but Samal was a higher being, a water spirit of Lord Amparos.

The more of the raw magic of the veins he had devoured, the more alive he had felt, his body burning with unseen flames. After a while, the fires had become entirely too intense. They were physically hurting him, his entire being feeling like it could explode at any moment. But Samal had kept drinking, unable to stop himself.

When he finally had been able to wrench himself from the veins, he could no longer see, or feel his river below. His body glowed with visible light, bringing illumination the dark caverns for the first time ever. The pain had been overwhelming.

It had only grown worse with time. Without his vision, he could no longer find the veins, and quench his thirst. He held onto the last fragments of his mind desperately, but the fires were relentless. He was fighting a losing battle for his mind, his sentience fading with every passing moment.

In the end, there was nothing he could do. His thoughts now barely above an animal's, Samal let go. The raging fires of divine energy found the last stronghold of resistance in his mind and overran it. Now an empty husk, Samal collapsed upon the stream's shore.

What stood up from his remains was no longer a graceful spirit of the rivers, nor a sentient being at all. Born of blood, it hungered for more to sustain itself. The beast resembled Samal with it's humanoid form, but it's body was quite solid, stone from the cavern floor intervowen with flowing, red-coloured waters. Mist-like crimson tendrils appeared from it's upper body, created for killing it's prey and drinking their blood only.

Mindless, the thing began to crawl down the cavern floor, tendrils feeling the ground around it for sustenance.

A water spirit is transformed into a mindless beast due to overexposure to Neshara's blood

[Demantiae]

The Shaper, Part 2.

Neshara stared at the Tower of the Magi. The place was undoubtedly a source of great magical power but that power was restrained, harnessed and caged. Like a songbird locked inside a bronze prison it could never live up to the potential of its wild unfettered form. Like a distant colony of bees the tower buzzed with energy but there was no pulse, no rhythm, no divine song being played out for the gods to hear.

The crystal from which it was formed might have pleased the goddess but it was unnatural, formed from the stuff of magic, crafted for this very purpose. If it had been sculpted from the crystal she mighthave smiled but it was not meant to be here. She felt sorrow for the mortals who locked themselves away within its walls. What could they learn of the world imprisoned behind those walls? What could they understand when they spent all their waking time memorizing rotes they couldn't possibly hope to understand? She felt sad that the mages would never feel as one with the forces they controled, that they would never be a part of the natural ebb and flow of energy within The Womb.

“The men and women who dwell here are soulless. They are dead to the world. In seeking to control the world they forget they were once a part of it. I urge you to change this my friend. As I have been the catylist that brought change to you so should you be the catylist that brings change to these mages. Fill these walls with Life and Passion not cold hard Reason.”

Having seen all she needed to see Neshara asked to leave. “Show me Dordrath, I wish to see this greatest of mortal cities.”

[Humaan]

The meeting had ended with no definite conclusion. Aarrook had grown tired anyway. So he left to take care of the war himself. His concerns changed to the god of war and his plans. Aarrook had to think strategy for a second. How would the god of war provoke an attack? Once provoked, how would he follow-up? These questions were his only concern. He knew his compatriots were getting weak. He knew that his rival grew stronger. Yet he did not know if he had time.

Time… that was dare brought up in his mind. He never seems to have enough time to do anything. Last minute works make up his history. Did he long for a new chance? He had little time to care.

When Aarrook arrived, however, what he saw made time even more crucial. The humans of Dordrath were charging at the Chosen, which were setting up a trap to destroy. Neither side had yet begun battle. Yet they both were approaching with rapid speed. Combat was inevitable, but still not a guareentee. Aarrook had one choice; stop the humans, both of Dordrath and Seyth, with awe.

So his descent began. He chose the ultimate fear of any creature; lightning. As his descent continued, he released his divine energy. The bolt where he descended grew, and would soon dominate the sky. His voice carried along with the bolt, and spread across the land, and descended across the Womb.  The only word carried was “Halt”, but both armies had heard it like a scream.

Aarrook had done his best, now he would have to solve the biggest problem. For he was still not done.

Aarrook descends near Dordrath as a mighty lightningbolt; the bolt is dominent in the sky, and the thunder carries the demand to halt.

[ragnarok97071]

Alright then, this way.
with another gesture, the door through which he came changes it's destination. It now leads to a field just a bit off of where the battle is taking place.
Seems that it started while he was talking to you. doesn't seem like the mages hare here yet, but they should be here soon.
A rustling comes from behind them, and the Mage turns around.
Hello, Mages, and welcome to the first war on the planet. I'm the less tight-arsed alter ego of your master, and this is Neshara. She doesn't like you, so I would be careful around her for now, alright? anyway, you should head over to the city itself and get to enhancing their fortifications.
The Archmage gives him a flat look, clearly not believeing his words, until the Mage's eyes flash gold once, and then he nods.
Yes, my lord.
The mages depart, and the god turns back to Neshara.
Right, now that that's dealt with, this is Dordrath. it was the first true city on the Womb, built around an arena of sorts, and as such it values strength highly. also, it seems that they won't need all that much help with this battle, even if they lose the first skirmish. We're still waiting for his other creations to arrive, but they shouldn't come for another day or so. I'm considering showing you where the Island used to be, but there are many other places we could go. I don't have any in particular, but I guess we could visit the Chosen's home, lothe as I am to see it. Or we could return underground and chat for a bit. Your choice.

[nbonaparte]

OOC: This is part 1. I'm running into writers' block and want to get this part up now. Akiel will show them various technologies in part 2.

A distant awareness watched the movements of troops. Gods battled one another. Mortals would only get caught in the crossfire. What if mortals could be given the opportunity to stand side-by-side with the gods themselves? The mind of a god is different from that of a mortal in degree, not in kind. The other gods underestimated mortals, but not Akiel. Akiel could see that the peoples of the Womb had a long, glorious, powerful future. He would demonstrate this.

Waiting above the mountain home of the Dwarven race, Akiel's appearance altered. He shrank to become just taller than the largest dwarf. A beard sprung from his chin. His facial features changed, his nose and eyes wider, his brow more pronounced. A cloak of white tiger fur draped itself over him.

Descending into the rock, he walked through the stone walls in front of a large group of dwarves.
O Dwarves, hear me!
And hear him they did. Akiel's divine voice reverberated around the caves, audible with perfect clarity to every dwarf. They sensed a divine presence, and many were fearful.
Do not cower. Come to me, for I am here to give you a great gift.
Showing their origins in a paranoid and reclusive god, only 3 came forward. You shall have to be enough, Akiel spoke to the 3 dwarves before him. You will be shown great things. If you do not agree to carry them to the others of your kind, leave now. None walked away.
Excellent. The dwarves are a burgeoning race with mighty potential. I will help you to unlock that, but first I must show you the world beyond these walls. As he said that, the dwarves found themselves floating high in the air. Akiel spoke to them from afar. This is the mountain of your home. Akiel gave the 3 a tour of sorts, showing them places like Dordrath, the Mages' Tower, and the wintry home of the Northren. Even a Murr hive was revealed to them. Mountains, deserts, oceans, forests.

[Ghazkull]

Just as the battle was about to begin 2 or rather 3 beings interrupted  the show for the Maw. The first being an God who dared to stop the battle in the form of a pitiful lighting how very...uncreative. And the other interruption made two unkown gods entering the area. How he came aware of them? Well one of the forces seemed to be strengthening the heartbeat of the womb up to a degree that it got annoying and the other one well...it was not exactly Magus who the Maw had met on the Island Meeting but it was quite similiar. His original well trace was - corrupted was the wrong word - changed - yes change by the first power.

seems like a mighty god indeed to change another one so radically...well seems like were not coming to a battle soon but those gods seem far more interesting anyway...

Following the strong  heartbeat The Maw found himself soon in front of the two gods. Magus seemed to have changed indeed completely...a not very unpleasant change altogether. And the other beng at his side reminded him of Nativa...just older and by far more interesting in all aspects. Finally the Maw ashined in his usual form, bowing deeply before the female being and before the changed Magus.

A pity this idiot had to intervene the show. I guess you were here for the fun down there too i presume? But where are my manners...i am Lord Hunger...the god of..well Hunger and in Northren circles also the God of Revenge. But who are you two if i might ask the question? You are clearly theformer Magus whateever had happened to you...and you seem to be...another child of Nativa? Alhough Mother is still quite young she seems to have the affinity to birth children left and right...

[Lordinquisitor]

"It seems like Rahisael took pity on those fools out there; Urging them to stop their foolish attack."

Laundarion looked elated; But Rahisael cursed.

"Pray, excuse me. I`m tired and need to fetch some sleep. Seems like nothing interesting is happening right now anyway." Laundarion said, descending from the walls. "Maybe i find myself some woman to keep me warm for tonight, Har!"

In some dark corner behind some old houses Laundarion vanished.. And reappeared amidst the now halting soldiers.. In the guise of yet another warrior. Tall, charismatic, scarred.

The soldiers around him looked awed, stunned and doubtful.

"What does that mean?" One asked.

"It`s a sign! We should stop!" Declared another.

But Rahisael stepped forward.

"Yes, it`s a sign! A sign of their weakness. A sign of their fear! Their mages casted some spell to dissuade us from attacking them. They fear us. They aren`t ready for our attack. They want to starve us out since they can`t defeat us in open battle."

He drew his sword; A normal, if well crafted, bronze sword. He pointed towards the general direction of the chosen.

"Look how they cower in fear! We must press the attack. Think about what they did to the other villages. We have the advantage now. Will you be fooled by such a bad trick? They want us to go back to the city; Bringing shame and woe upon our women and children. If they let us go back; Likely they want to stab us in the back."

"Maybe it`s a sign from the gods.." One soldier stated.

"So?" Rahisael screamed.

"Even if it is.. Which god should have a interest in halting our attack? We worship Khan, the god of righteous battle. How would he act? He would smash our enemies for us. Or he would lend us strength; The advantage is clearly ours! Would he try to steal our victory? No, he wouldn`t!"

"But they worship some god of the sea. They are far away from their home and here their god is weak and powerless, like a fish stranded on dry land. Clearly he isn`t able to support his warriors more."

"Look at them. Look how just a few of them come forth; And even those only dare to attack us from afar. They are cowards. We have to drive them away from our home; Their very presence is an offense to Khan. Do you want to look like cowards in the eyes of your comrades? In the eyes of your women? In the eyes of your god?"

Rahisael laughed and released the last bit of hatred stored within the sphere.

"I don`t. I want to have my share of glory and victory."

"EVERYONE FOLLOW ME TO GLORY!"

And with that he charged into battle; Hoping that the others might follow him.

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

Rahisael tries to persuade the soldiers to keep attacking. He uses the last bit of stored hatred within the sphere to motivate them and dedicates the battle to Khan.

If nothing else helps he uses an act to motivate the soldiers with godly inspiration.

[nbonaparte]

Part 2
As they passed near Dordrath, a divine lightning appeared nearby.
Come, we should leave.
Back on the peak of their mountain home, the dwarves were being educated. First, Akiel gave them fire. He taught them to farm, which crops were best underground and above. Akiel taught the group how to tame and breed animals. He then told them how to find, smelt and shape iron, copper, bronze, gold, silver, and steel. He gave them examples in copper of tools they could make. A pick, an axe, a hammer, a spear, an anvil, a chisel, a sword, a plow, and a set of armor. And because it would take much time to teach by mortal means, he instilled in them the knowledge of writing, of making ink and combining reeds or wood to make paper. This was perhaps the greatest gift the divine craftsman could give the noble race beneath the Womb.

I will depart soon. My name is Akiel, Lord of Technology. You are my prophets to the dwarves. You must now dedicate yourselves to spreading this knowledge. Do you understand?
Silence.
DO YOU UNDERSTAND?
"y....yes, Lord." replied one. With that, the others gained some confidence. "Yes. We will carry this to our people. We will not fail, milord."
Thank you. Oh, and one more thing. The world is bigger than Kain. If you wish to move beyond these walls, call to me. I will speak with your king.
And with that, Akiel rose from the ground, raised his arms, and shot into the sky with a crash like thunder, chuckling to himself.