[center][i][b]The Avatar of Artifex / Kallak[/b][/i][/center] The opening of The Library in Sancta Civitas was followed by a bureaucratically approved celebration. While the priests, Queen, Embassy leaders, approved diplomats and intelligentsia explored the functions of the grand structure Kallak, divine Avatar of Artifex whom had descended to the city half a year ago born by a jet black Cloud moth, spent it drunk off his ass on municipally supplied berry wine while partying with the other common laborers who had actually built The damned Library and this was exactly how he prefered it. He’d spent 21 timeless years being raised and trained in Artifex’s sphere to be the perfect ambassador, a month actually acting in the priestly appointed role he’d received upon arrival with all the pomp and ceremony that entailed and then promptly ditched it in favor of finding his own way in the city. To counteract the fact that he had the giant spiked horns and extra pair of arms of his father Kallak had created a cloak with divine power that obfuscated his identity. Now instead of being “The Avatar of Artifex, builder of wonders, instrument of his will, praise be to thy name!” He was simply Kallak, humble Mantarin labor. True, a male of his species acting as a manual laborer was unusual as the queen’s doting on her rarely hatched sons meant they generally amounted to a great deal, but it was hardly unheard of. Kallak’s friend Servius was one such Mantarin who occasionally got together to moan about the lofty expectations placed upon their kind. Artifex had been mildly irritated by this use of his power on Galbar, but as the disguised Avatar wandered the streets of the palace district with a mug of blueberry wine in his hand he reflected that it had been worth it. He’d much rather be out here than standing around while a bunch of priests hung on his every word. Instead he got to watch a wrestling match between a Mantari worker and an Itztli, gamble away his hard earned food tokens in back alley snail race, drunkenly sing with his fellow workers, watched a street performer juggling, listen to a Goblin band play a rowdy ballad on a street corner, dance to the lively performance with a goblin who he eventually worked out was making eyes at him, watch a play in the Amphitheatre with the goblin, do other things with that goblin, get into a fight with a dozen of the goblin’s relatives behind the Amphitheatre, flee from that fight on the back of a giant Soldier Ant that happened to be passing by, tell people that The Avatar had taught him how to ride the ant that when asked how he could do such an amazing thing, make a brief appearance as The Avatar at several spots around the city to show people how to ride the giant ants without getting killed in order to cover up his hasty lie, after which he’d put his cloak back on and gone back to partying till the sun was setting. “So I’m all “who the crap are you” right? And he tries to answer but before he does I puts up my fists and say “I don't care what your name is, come me, you and your 30- no 40 roach herders and-” Kallak slurred as he sat with his back to the wall of a random building sipping from… well he couldn't remember how many mugs of wine he’d had at this point but it was certainly an enjoyable amount. “You’re talkin out your azzzzz pretty boy” slurred an equally drunk Vespain laborer who Kallak was pretty sure was using pretty boy as an insult. He was about to come up with a stellar retort when the but off a pole jabbed him in the side. “Alright you’ve had your fun, now get your thoraxes home. Nights drawing in. Queen don't want any of you drunks still lying about when the sun sets in case you freeze to death.” said a generally fed up looking Mantarin Royal Gaurd, clad in chitin-armor and carrying a sturdy wooden staff used for crowd control by the elbow bladed women, who was one of a number of guards trying to clear the street of the festival’s stranglers. “I iz not thaaat drunk” the wasp woman insisted “Can you, can you even fly right now?” she asked, making Kallak concerned that the irate guardswoman would order him to carry his latest, and it seemed last, drinking companion home “Surrrre” the Vespian slurred before pushing herself waving “See you round Kallak” to the Mantarin man before unsteadily taking off, bobbing to and fro as she made her way back to her hive. “Barley” the guards woman muttered, before jerking her head to the side and barking “You too [i]brother[/i]” “Right right,” Kallak said as he stood and waved her back “Don't get your antenna in a knot sister I’m going,” before unsteadily stumbled his way towards home. The majority of the people of Sancta Civitas lived in communal familial housing. Mantarin, who were all related by virtue of having the same regal mother, tended to either stick around her royal majesty in one of the large homes for their kind built in or around the palace or within a very small number of similar structures built in the other districts if they worked out there. Vespian naturally conjugated around their hives and individual queens, either living within the Swarm filled hive itself or in large airy compounds built on top of them. Goblins stuck together in various clans made up of their extended families, often able to trace their way back to tribes who had migrated to the city, in sprawling maze-like complexes taking up entire streets. The Vrool and Akua living under the harbor were a different story, but their style of homes were somewhat out of the question if Kallak didn't want questions about how he technically didn't need to breathe. All this had made it very difficult for Kallak to find himself individual housing, that wasn't underwater anyway, until he'd heard about the fume borough. It started off as a series of buildings built around the industrial district when it was first being constructed to house tanners, smiths etc. and their extended families. Unfortunately, the families of those workers didn’t want to move out to live next to the smoke filled area, and it was rare that an entire extended family could pick up that kind of trade. There were a few, but mostly the artisans who still lived with their families traveled to the district each day, leaving a lot of space in the borough unused. Loners, outcasts, eccentrics and the disowned found their way into the borough and via a lot of unauthorized construction work, made it into their own tangled mess of apartments and alleyways that the administration could never find the energy to try and reorder. It was too there that Kallak traveled, the long trek along the empty road leading to the palace district sobering him up just enough that he wouldn’t get lost trying to find his home in the maze of streets. It was also long enough for him to realize he was hungry, which made him take a detour for Niyan’s place. The old goblin man was too frail to do much work and didn't have a family to rely on, you never asked why, but he did cook a mean stew that he served to hungry smiths and city folk after a hard day’s work so long as he had the supplies to do so. Kallak, being one of those regulars, was greeted by a cheerful call from Niyan as he approached the spot where the goblin was cooking out on the street, surrounded by a few other late evening diners, “eyyy Kallak. Was worried ya wher’t commin. It’s good stuff tonight. Got me some of them good sea snail meat in the stew for it in celibration of that big building they opened. Wazit called. The Loborory?” “They call it The Library apparently” Kallak told him as the goblin ladled him a bowl of the stew. The disguised avatar took the bowl carefully with two hands and then rummaged around in a satchel he wore for a few food tokens worth far more than the stew was worth which he handed over, “Got these from working on it. Really fancy place. Writes down magic spells all on its own so they don't even need a scribe to do if for em” “Ah yer too kind yer too kind,” the goblin said as he took the tokens and stored them in a lay jar sitting on the windowsill of his home. A few of the other regulars who had seen the exchange nodded, acknowledging that Kallak had played his part in the loose arrangement they all had that kept Niyan fed and in stock of cooking ingredients. “Now magic ya say? Couldny belive it when a hurd that the first time. I heard they have sum of them magic folks out in the tribes but thought it was all beetlespit” “Druids?” Kallak guessed “yeah those. They real?” Kallak nodded “I never erd of any of em in the city tho. Didn't think they were no frogs either” “No lakes nearby.” Kallak replied, “They need them to become druids. Or so I’ve heard” “Yeah? Weird. Then again so’s having a big oll pool of fresh water just, existing on it's own out there, so I what can ah say” “Very. Druids do different magic from the stuff the Library's for anyway. The Itztlis’ don’t like them very much apparently.” “Itztlis?” “The lizards” “Right right the lizards. They worked up on The Library with you right? What dey like?” “They’re alright. Decent folks. Strong. Saw one go claw to claw with a Worker Lady in a wrestling match earlier which was impressive. Got this whole subservience thing to the Eloxochitli, the frogs, though which is... eh” Kallak said, wigging a hand back and forth to demonstrate his discomfort with the situation. “Ah heard that too. They won’t see us bownin and scrapin to them frogs tho, oh no” Niyan said “Goblins bow to nobody. Sep the queen o corse. An that’s only to be polite ya hear” That rankled a fair few nerves in various directions but not enough for anyone to argue with the old goblin’s pride or each other for that matter. Kallak just nodded, “I hear you” before setting down his rapidly emptied bowl “and thanks for the meal. It was delicious as always” “Yer alway’s welcome. Have ta go so soon?” Niyan asked “Need to sleep off the drink” Kallak said as he stood, “have a safe night Niyan” “Same ta you” the goblin replied, waving him goodbye before turning and going to find one of his other guests to talk to. Kallak picked his way out of the small gathering, stepping carefully around a Goblin Woman and a Vespian arguing about what the gossip they’d heard about Materialistic mana magic meant for their shared trade of medicine/poison brewing, before heading for home. There he unlocked the crude copper lock holding his door shut, slipped inside, barred the door again, retrieved the few remaining food tokens he'd been paid and tossed them into a small pot of tokens, beetle shells, copper chisels, and single clay jar of brandy that served as his stockpile of barter-able items before curling up in a nest of blankets and furs he'd made in the corner off the room to get some rest. The next day the hangover Kallak awoke to the sounds of Artifex talking to him for the first time in months, [color=GreenYellow]”Ah, you’re still in Sancta Civitas. Good. Rise and shine my Avatar. It's a glorious new day, and I have plans for you to execute. I’m see you’ve already checked something off the list based on the panicked prayers of the priest about people riding the city's maintenance insects around. Very proactive of you.”[/color] The Avatar groaned as he dislodged himself from his nest while a long, long list of instructions began to manifest themselves in his mind. “Stink bug spray” he muttered to himself as he grabbed a slate of stone, a hammer and one of his chisels and got down to recording the growing list of tasks which included, among other things, learning every kind of magic he could, “this is going to take a while” [hider=summary] Mostly a post exploring Sancta Civitas a bit more while introducing Kallak, Avatar of Artifex. Kallak arrived a while back, delivered to Gablar via divine portal after receiving a lifetime of training in Artifex’s sphere to become the perfect Avatar. He starts by acting as god’s will on earth for a bit, then ditches the responsibilities hoisted upon him by the Sancta Civitas clergy, and instead gets a secret identity as a common laborer. We meet him after the opening ceremony of The Library where he gets drunk alongside his fellow workers who built the thing and that gets into a bunch of hijinks including riding an ant, and then telling people Artifex’s Avatar told him how to do it, then making a bunch of appearances as said avatar to teach people how to tame the local giant insects to cover up his own lie and then goes back to getting drunk. Eventually he gets ordered to go home by the royal guard clearing the street of party goers. Kallak heads home, stops by a stew serving goblin for dinner and talks a bit with that goblin about the library, druids who live out in the wilds, and the Emissaries. Then he heads home and goes to sleep. Finally he wakes up with artifex yelling in his head about how he has plans that need executing, which disgruntled the hungover Avatar greatly even as he sets about recording all the god’s instructions. [/hider] [hider=mp] mp/dp 4/5 2mp: Cloak of the Commoner Alter Ego I: the owner has two personas, one that wears the cloak and one that does not. Think superman and clark kent being differentiated by a pair of glasses and a suit. Each person must act differently enough that the two could not be confused (Clark can’t be a confident world saver, Superman can’t act like a mild mannered journalist) and go by different names or the effect will be broken. Mundanity I: While worn the cloak draws attention away from any notable features that might cause the wear to be noted as unique among their kind such as a giant pair of horns, extra pairs of arms, plant-like growths, shining hair, weird skin colors or vampiric fangs. These traits are still visible, but are considered unremarkable by onlookers. 0 insect discounted mp to ride a giant ant 1 insect boosed mp to upgrade Sancta Civita’s insect caretakers title to level II, making the insects of the city docile enough to be individually tamed 0 insect discounted mp: teach the people of Sancta Civitas how to tame and ride the giant insects that live in their city 2/5 towards stoneworking 3/5 towards ships or vehicles mp/dp 1/5 [/hider]