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[Ghazkull]

i see vast cornfields trampled into the earth by cavalry charges, once lush green meadows turned into giant fields of mud, riddled with trenches. I see burnt down forests, barely held upwards by the muddy earth, while a whitish, soupy mist is giving the whole scene an eerie atmosphere. And covering all that, corpses. Of men,of horses, of a myriad of beings of all sizes and allegiances, the burnt-out carcasses of war machines sticking out into the greyish sky like the corpses of beings with giant size. The only trace of life are the carrion feeders dotting the landscape. Murder of Crows sitting close together with hanging heads like a group of conspirators. Rats nibbling at the clothes of dead heroes. And over all the poisonous air of rot and decay, sulphur and ozone of urine, excrements and other less invading things adding to the cacophony of stenches. It is cold and wet and the howling wind is carrying the cries of the dying and the hustled voices of looters...

[shadenight123]

i see thick dark clouds of storms, thunders and raindrops falling, i see the light remove itself from my very own presence, and darkness stirring all around my figure and around me, i see things which i shouldn't be able to see in the darkness, i see the land devoid of all activity and noise, a silent desert where sand dwells and stirs and things forgotten underneath, whose presence still would offend anything in the light of the day. I see enormous vultures circling the creatures of the light and striking them down in the name of the night and being of light be born again to repeat the same scenery, again and again. I see beings made of bones and crackling sand shrouding themselves in the midst of the darkest shrouds, with claws sharp and eyes empty of piety. i see time itself move in a sandglass, and light and darkness circle on a painting on a wall made of stormy clouds. I see those who die and those who are born. and i awake on a throne of pure storming clouds, a vulture atop my shoulder, to my right stirs a being which dwells under the sand, to my left a being which walks upon the sand. but most importantly of all...i see.

[Dwarmin]

It's cold and dark. I look up-no light. In fact, the sky is made of hanging stone-the stars are phosphorescent colonies of mile high fungus. Sometimes, you feel it might better if the whole thing came down on you...but, there is beauty. These caverns stretches for miles-and people and things live here. In a way, it has it's own beauty-the stolid giant mushroom, the pretentious sparkle of gem and ore, the polite flitter of the bat, the subtle glow of the cave beetle...there is an odd tranquility here. I follow the roaring underground river-it teems with blind fish...and things that look like Men, but are not.

I can see a city. It's amazing that it is there-tall, square roofs and smokestacks, and a green candlelight from every window. Some of us don't get the light, you know-we make do with what we get. It's calm down here. You can make a living, if you want...you've got to be careful though. Damn near everything down here is hungry.

[Taricus]

Vast mountains, standing proud side by side against the seas of grass on either side of it, as white as the winter snows that graces their higher points. The grass is green with envy, for it cannot match the majesty of the bastions of stone and ore. The are a few creeks running from the mountains though, ad it's their ability to soothe the grass that keeps the peace between mountain and grass.

[Ultimuh]

A deep dark damp cave opens up, the entrance almost swallowing everything which enters.
A slight breeze carrying faint whispers, whispering ancient secrets in a strange language.
Constant slithering on the ground, all sorts of creepy crawling things.
Long narrow tunnels spread out everywhere with unknown roots hanging down,
the only light emits from glowing mushroom caps, deep down in this wretched hive ancient ruins rests.
Ruins of a possible forgotten past, or is it placed by divine hands?
Hissing noises grows ever loudly deep within this nest, almost like breathing, and then heartbeat..
A deep rumble shakes these narrow ancient passages, a pair of large bright orange eyes opens up,
dark scales glimmers in the faint light the eyes emit, a giant forked tongue flickers in the darkness.

((editing slightly until I have what I want.
Done.))

[adwarf]

A castle of pure white marble, and gleaming gold surround me in all directions, and go on for only a short distance before reaching the edge of the pure white cloud. The castle is pure, and that of beauty, but I, and I alone inhabit this massive place where my creations, and children should rushing about there is nothing, and I am alone. In the center of this place is a vast throne room with a seat of marble, and gold at the front, and with five chairs on either side of mine, but they are shapeless, and without meaning for no one has given its form. I know this place has meaning, but I do not see it, nor can I force that meaning to happen, and thus I remain alone without a purpose, or reason for being.

[thatkid]

Your wills battle, the nothingness swirling into a tumultuous void of shape, scent, and sound until finally you each relent, your energy expended. Once more, your consciousness fades...

When you awake, you find yourselves in a new place. One not of nothing, but of something. A real place. Or, that is, a place as real as the divine essence that makes you. A vast, damp jungle of green spreads out beneath a dark sky of broiling clouds, the fingers of the trees reaching up to scrape at the massive mountain ranges that encompass them. Jutting out from amongst the trees are giant obsidian spires, strange sigils and glyphs throbbing with the life-blood of a world not yet created. These form a perfect circle of nine -- your number, the number of creators to be. At the center of this circle is a single magnificent marble palace, far more grand than any sentient creature who could ever come to be could imagine. At the center of this castle rises a single ruinous tower, its battlements piercing the storm clouds. All is not as it seems, however. The smell of burnt flesh and decay arises from patches of the jungle where the ground has been torn up by battles that never were and may never be. In these places, one may hear the endless cries of those unmade yet destined to die, borne to their ears upon the wind. The mountains open their dark maws, revealing an endless network of dark tunnels and cold wet, an endless hissing echoes forth from these and you are instinctively aware of some sprawling structure below, built by your will or the will of another, and likely destined to be forever empty.

You see all this and more, as your presence locates itself beneath its individual obsidian spire as if the structures had been unwittingly crafted to act as a focus for your wills. And you know: You are home, this is your haven. This is where you belong.

What shall it be called?

[adwarf]

"This land which flows with that of both life, and death, with the energy of those alive, and the coldness of those dead, and covered in the possibility to be beautiful. I will name thy Gaia, the Mother of Nature" said a figure looking down at the land from a large window at the top of the tower.

[Taricus]

This land, dangerous yet beautiful, shall be called Syreth.

[micelus]

Death...Life...Construct....Growth....Sirun it may be named...

On second thought, Syreth is a good name...brother?

[Ultimuh]

"My nesst iss yet to be named.. but not by my own decisssion.. Yesss... Ssomeone will eventually name it.. but for now it will remain unknown.."

Spoiler: GM Read this (click to show/hide)

I was planning that hissing noise was supposed to originate from a single being,
the true form of this god. As I intended to let him have 2 shapes, a humanoid form and his god form.
My own fault for not explaining it in my previous post. 
But.. whatever, I might work it out in some other way.

edit: wait.. changeing stuff.. Done.

[Sinpwn]

"Hmm, Syreth is indeed a good name for this wonderfully chaotic world. Does anyone else think we should refurbish that tower in the center? maybe get some floating islands around here? Oh so much to be done... Oh so much to be undone..."
The voice speaks unevenly and hurriedly, but with a strong resonating feeling, as if those exact words had been planned for centuries, waiting to be said.

[micelus]

"Isles that float above this creation of ours? How interesting...yes...An isle for each sphere of creation, each element, each value and each vice...For every emotion...and for every power..."

[shadenight123]

at the top of my own obsidian spire there i reside. Silent and concentrating. They can call this what they want, Syreth, Syren, whatever. I wait for when my job requires my coming.

[Ghazkull]

A gurgling voice like someone trying to speak with a slitted throat accompanied by a long piping sound like that of an asthmatic or air escaping some opening began to talk, slowly and measured like he had all time of the eternity:

We...should neither call it a like a place of pure Hope...nor one of pure Despair...i say we call it by the name it already has...Haven