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[h2]Gibbou[/h2]
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Nothing beat a nice cup of tea and a soft beanbag in the night - and considering it was always night in Gibbou’s realm, that was saying quite a lot. The night elves down below had been the first to come up with this idea - tea, particularly in the aftermid hours between one and two glasses after midnight. While they didn’t have much in the way of biscuits (not in Fragrance, anyway; Naomalheb was a different story), the moon goddess preferred her tea alongside an overfilled plate of butter biscuits. The sweet, buttery taste complemented perfectly the floral aroma of the tea, and the warm fluid washed away the greasy remnants of the cookie upon the next sip. A match made in heaven - on her moon, which was in heaven. She filled with pride at her pioneering capabilities - first sunplate and now cookies and tea. What could possibly ruin this evening?

As it so happened, her duty called, perhaps in the most literal sense. A shout blasted through her mind, backed soon up by a multitude of others. 

“By the moons! There’s too many!”

“Curse this moonless night!”

“Stand fast! The gods watch over us!”

Gibbou kicked herself to her feet, spilling her place of cookies all over the floor in her hurry to the windows of her dome. She stared down at the source of the pleas - a small outpost in the Northern Highlands. She set down her teacup and conjured forth a model of the area with moon dust, observing small dust figures barricading themselves against a washing horde of other, more vile-looking figures. Boy, had these come up a lot lately in people’s prayers.

[colour=lightblue]”Ugh… Iskrill…”[/colour] she muttered and gave one of them a closer look to analyse its components: horns, claws, inhuman joints and an evident thirst for anything resembling manflesh. She shook her head. [colour=lightblue]”... And people keep berating me for vampires… Sheesh…”[/colour] She clapped herself lightly on the cheek. [colour=lightblue]”No, Gibbou, focus! Goddess of protection now - goddess of protection!”[/colour] She took a deep breath and focused in on the centre of the outpost.

[hr]

The outpost was a small thing. A single stone tower, and a smaller building, surrounded by a wooden palisade. It was positioned atop a hill which overlooked the nearby Neiyar River. The twenty or so defenders now busied themselves to the task of fortifying the gate and arming themselves.

A female mage in armoured robes seemed to be leading them, not much older than thirty. A pair of small horns sprouted from her head. “I’ve served at here for five years!” she shouted defiantly. “It has not fallen before. By Cadien and Neiya, it will not fall tonight!”

At least thirty iskrill advanced up the hill, having disembarked from a series of crude canoes. They were armed with equally crude weapons, made of copper, stone, and even bone. They let out war cries in their unintelligible tongue as they ascended.

A small sliver in the clouds above parted suddenly and a beam of moonlight struck the ground like a lightning bolt. A cloud of smoke exploded outwards, and as the light receded, a voice spoke in the heads of the defenders: [colour=lightblue]”Worry no longer, sons and daughters of Cadien, for the Moon shall see to it that you will experience a peaceful night once more.”[/colour] The smoke dissipated, revealing a large pile of armour, a full set of breastplates, helmets, bracers, shin protectors and studded leather skirts for each soldier in the camp. Next to that pile was another stack, this one providing every soldier with a large, round shield. However, while they had much the similar form, these items didn’t have that golden sheen of their Acadian armour, no… These were silvery and heavier.

This was steel.

The soldiers stared at it in astonishment. “Neiya has sent us aid,” one of them whispered in awe.

There came another crackle from above and the clouds parted again, this time burning down at the pile of armour and shields and branding every breastplate and buckler with a pale, white disk in the centre. [colour=lightblue]”This gift is not of Neiya, mortals - she hasn’t lifted a finger in your defense! This is the boon of Gibbou, your eternal defender in the night!”[/colour] There was a pause for effect. [colour=lightblue]”Mistake us not again!”[/colour]

The mage looked almost offended at the assertion that Neiya had not helped them, but the rest of the soldiers were more pragmatic, and hastened to remove their old armour in favour of the new. Shields and breastplates were cast aside, in favour of the stronger, heavier steel. There was not enough time to fully clad themselves in the new armour, but everyone managed to get most of it on, just as the first iskrill poked its head over the wall. 

Rather than simply break through the gate, the iskrill had opted to instead use their talons to dig into the wood and climb. Now they poured over the palisade, landing on their feet and surging forward to meet the defenders. The mage shouted a command. A line of spears was formed, and the battle was joined.

The Iskrill came, and the Acadians killed them, as countless generations had done before them. The mage lashed out with fire and flame, while the soldiers skewered them with well-aimed spear thrusts. Some did manage to get past the spear-tips, but their weapons were rendered useless against the new armour. The Acadians fought on, until at last, their hated foes were forced to retreat.

They had not lost a single warrior.

Up above, Gibbou clapped her hands as though they were dusty and nodded. Not bad, not bad - they had known what to do and done it well, surviving without a single loss. Seems that steel was more effective than she had thought - immensely powerful against stone and copper. She conjured forth a steel breastplate and mounted it on a stick on the other side of her room. She then conjured forth a bow and arrow, the arrow being tipped with bone. She drew the bow and loosed upon the plate, the arrow tip snapping against the metal. She tried again with a copper tip. At first, it bounced off, but straighter shots helped it hit the target perfectly, Gibbou finding a deep dent in the plate afterwards. She saw that the arrowtip also had been pressed into a clump, however. With bronze, the result was similar, but this arrow penetrated the armour, killing the metaphorical person inside. Same with iron and steel.

The plate was weak to ranged attacks if they hit it dead on; however, much would bounce off if the angle wasn’t right. This was valuable knowledge.

Still, if the world was to be armoured and ready for the onslaught of the forces of evil. She would create a factory of armour, one that could provide the mortal world with the necessary means to withstand all manner of attacks. This factory would have to be moving, too, so the enemy couldn’t simply capture the place it was located and deprive mortality of its goods. It would also have to travel across the entire world, because mortality was in danger all over. She clapped her hands together and focused down on the World Anchor.

[hr]

The mountains thundered as though it was the Day of the Sword again. Inside its many caves, the Cragking Thunder and his two sons were debating over what it could be - surely there were still ten years or so left until the usual quakes! But as the quakes stopped, it became clear that these were no usual tremors. At the foot of the mountain, where crags meet forest, a colossal female mallard, at least twenty metres tall, spread its wings and unleashed a thunderous “QUACK-QUACK-QUACK!” that boomed out across the forest. It had a coat of rusty iron feathers, between which was dow of spun steel; its beak was a trunk of bronze, containing more of the alloy than many villages; its feel were made of brass, an alloy so rare to these lands that one had to wonder if it had even been made. The Maillard dug its beak under its right wing, sating an itch with metallic scratches. Then, it squatted down for a minute, shaking some shudders out of its head. When it rose back up, a stone egg had been planted on the ground under it. It cracked and the top, breaking open to reveal…

A copper shin protector.

The Maillard looked at it with what could’ve been a proud smile. Then, it turned westwards, waddling its way towards the Prairie and the sea. Its circumventure of the world was about to begin. 

[hider=Sumsum!]
Gib chill out. See Acads get smacked by Icecreams. Give Arcades steel armour. They think it Neigh gib dem, Gib say no, is Gib. They win against Ismaels. Gib feel smart, make armour factory. Is a mallard, but it armoured so call it Maillard, GEDDIT?! Post ends.
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[hider=MP Spendage]
Gibbou 0MP/3DP
-1DP: Provide the garrison with a one-time gift beyond their technological capability: 20 full sets of steel armour with a shield to boot. Armour appearance is like this, only silvery steel instead of golden bronze. +1 to Armour port, ending up at ⅗. 
-2DP: Create a single beast: The Maillard - A colossal duck with a beak of bronze, a body clad in iron feathers and feet of brass. Travelling around the world, it will lay an egg somewhere randomly once a month, which will hatch into one piece of armour made of a random metal. This can be anything from copper to stellar steel, and either a single boot or a full breastplate, depending on how lucky one is. +2 to Armour port, ending up at 5/5.
Gibbou end: 0MP/0DP
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