[center][h1][b][color=0054a6]Klaarungraxus[/color][/b][/h1][/center]

Deep below the roiling surface of the sea, below the thundering clouds of the hurricane above, the hungry minds of Klaarungraxus were cavorting with thoughts most numerous. 

The God of Oceans had been submerged there for some time, past the great kelp forests, coral reefs, and schooling fish that filled his realm with color and life. Beyond all those, where the craggy sea floor shattered into a crevasse so deep no mortal life could survive its crushing deeps. It was the first place Klaar had escaped to when the sun had first named itself his hated foe, so long ago. Though the burning orb of Oraelia now meant little to Klaarungraxus, that deep place in the world that had once been his small pond still felt as home to him. There he rested, tentacles reaching out in all directions both along the trench or up it, like vast roots growing out from a most disturbing tree. 

The many-minds of Klaarungraxus were in flux. A dread prophecy, determined by the alien mathematics played out by the tentacles that formed the skein of Klaarungraxus’ decentralized mind, had cast portents into the future that were each coming to pass. With the creation of the Akua and the teeming of life in the seas, Klaarungraxus was made all the more aware of this disquieting doom that hung above him. Soon, he was sure, something would change in a way he would be most displeased by. More than anything, this created a sense of great consternation within the tumultuous storm that was the Ocean God’s mind.

How dare reality plot so fervently against him!? 

Despite months of constant calculations and intensive consideration, nothing arose in either his overmind or the many minds slaved to it to come up with a solution. Entire portions of the undersea trench had been smoothed from constant friction as Klaar sat, completely lost within thoughts. Even the water that flowed about his form seemed incensed by it all, vibrating and shuddering with empathetic displeasure. 

[color=0054a6][i]This fate must be denied by any means necessary![/i][/color]

A single mind spoke back with potentiality; the ever useful Right-Forward Two-Down had come up with a possible line of thought that could lead to success. Continuing on the same sort of thinking that had led to the uplifting of the Vrool and the alteration of the Akua, perhaps mortals could serve in an additional role beyond simply maintaining Klaarungraxus’ deific legacy. The minds lit up with curiosity, manipulating this new idea in their clutches as the overmind pinged back excitement; possibility was never to be ignored! 

Over the next cycle of the sun and moon the plot was hatched, revised, and reconsidered. Though Klaarungraxus was a god, the time in which he had available to him and his capacity to consider reality was inherently finite. His minds, regardless of how decentralized, were nevertheless bound to the same divine perspective that the whole of the entity that was Klaar held. But, what if after this prophesied calamity came to pass, there were those who could continue the Old Growth Below’s numerous works and seek to reverse the fate that Klaar was sure would befall him. They would need to be given the capacity to learn and comprehend reality as Klaar did yet remain entirely mortal to keep their perspectives pure. 

The Vrool would make natural agents for this intended plan.

Vast, glowing eyes pushed forth from their sockets in a mockery of eyelids, lighting up the darkness of the sea floor with voracious intent. Powerful limbs dug deep into the sides of the trench as his huge form was lifted from the depths. A rumbling began to emanate from what amounted to a throat in Klaar’s pseudo-anatomy, vibrating the very world around him in an ever escalating tremor. All around the world the ocean rose and fell by several inches at a time, enough to only be noticed by those who truly knew the sea. The God of Oceans dragged himself from his hiding spot and into the cool light of his ocean abode, intent on his travel to Ku. With one great suction of water, Klaar propelled himself through the waves and dragged a tidal wave worth of water behind him.
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Ku, that most ancient of stones, sat at the bottom of Klaar’s sump as unmoving as it always was. The gentle voices and hums from its smooth basalt surface rang out as never before, reacting to the coming of its creator. In the distance the great shadow of Klaarungraxus filled the undersea horizon. All about Ku, where worshipping and brave Vrool had come to hear the voice of the sea utter its babbling advice only they could hear, life burst into action. They swam away in all directions, for many of the creatures knew not the great entity that swam upon them or knew all to well that he was their creator and in no way prone to acts of benevolence when foul moods befell his storming mind.

With his sump cleared of life Klaar sank into the depths, surrounding Ku in his mass. The stone hummed pleasantly, its words loud but calm in distinct opposition to Klaar’s own roiling mind. The great devilfish lowered himself to it, that stone of his own making, and whispered sweet nothings in return; though they stung of fiery passion and intent, Klaarungraxus could never speak ill or with rage to his beloved ocean.

[color=0054a6]”Oh ye’ who’s voice soothes, how I have yearned for your calming gyres. My mind is astray, tumultuous waters, and We who need thee have come most longingly. Assist me, o’ beloved oceans, for I dread what will come to pass.”[/color] 

At the edges of the sump numerous Vrool watched. They were worshippers in their own right, followers of the ancient creator god who had made them in his image. Each was born with knowledge of his greatness and craved nothing more than to emulate him in all things. For many, particularly those youngest spawn, this was the first time they had ever laid eyes on him. He was in all ways exactly how they imagined and they jealously hoarded the memories of his presence in the depths of his mind. One day, they all believed fervently, they would be as large as He who had given them life and thought and mind. His words, spoken in that Holy Tongue of the Sea, rang out across them in waves and eddies that only succeeded in increasing their voracious curiosity. The throaty warble of their presence was, undoubtedly, entirely intoxicating.

[color=0054a6]”Declare unto gyres my convictions, o’ urstone of oceans vast and wide, so that Our will might be made manifest in the souls of those who live beneath the waves,”[/color] came the call of Klaar, weaving into Ku new words to spread across the skein of the sea, [color=0054a6]”Make one the thoughts of those for whom the World’s Will doth shine, and begat them as mages, these Warlocks mine!”[/color]

With the final utterance of Klaarungraxus’ will, a ripple of power emanated from the urstone Ku in all directions. In him the change started, a mantling of powers before uncontrolled and now the Old Growth Below’s to command. Carried on this stranger tide was a whisper that sank itself into the hearts and minds sentient races of the sea below, their very souls marked with its power. For most it would do nothing, a simple marker of the Ocean God’s demands upon them, but to those very few who resided in the depths that little light would become illumination equal to any of the Orbs above. 

Awareness and curiosity unfold as, through unmatched will and desire to know, the gift and curse of sorcerous power was granted to them.

[color=0054a6][i]Thus were the Warlocks born.[/i][/color]

[hider=Post Summary]
Klaar, the poor fish, continues to angst about the presumed doom of his existence on Galbar in some form or fashion; the maths, it would seem, do not portend good things. For months he stays in his deep hole, desperately trying to consider a solution to his given problem.

Right-Forward Two-Down, ever the clever tentacle, presents a potential solution after much angsting. What if the mortals could do something about it? Choosing to take matters into his own tentacles to make sure such a capacity comes to pass, Klaarungraxus travels to the center of the ocean to take such steps towards his own salvation.

Whispering unto Ku to spread his new found gift, Klaarungraxus collects to himself the powers of Sorcery and further spreads the capacity to follow in his footsteps to a number of mortals born or otherwise. They are the Warlocks, a Holy Order of Sorcerers ingrained with a curiosity bent towards empowering themselves so that one day they might assist Klaarungraxus in returning from whatever calamity he believes will befall him.
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[hider=MP Summary]
Start 3MP/2DP
 
> Creation of the Holy Order known as the Warlocks, a collection of individuals that will grow with time, interested in learning of the natural powers of the world so that they might one day assist Klaarungraxus in counteracting the negative effects of his perceived Doom. (-2 DP from Nature)
> Mantling of the Portfolio of Sorcery by Klaarungraxus, the magics bound to the natural energies released by the world. Telluric Magics, those reliant on the physical energy released through natural physics of reality (both Divinely inspired or otherwise), make up the bulk of sorcery. (-3 MP)

End 0MP/0DP
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