[centre][h1]The Ferryman[/h1][/centre]
[centre][i]The charred remains left naught behind, or so the blind would think…
In truth, just then, one was assigned to bring them to the brink.
The brink of what? Why, life of course! It lives as best it can.
Now comes a time of deep remorse, next to the Ferryman.[/i][/centre]
[hr]
A leftover product of the former universe: death. It reeked of it. Of course, the cosmos wasn’t a great, big screaming void of suffering, but the stench clung to it like the mouldy odour of an old washroom. The death and suffer of the primordial universe had long since peetered out on its own, flocculating into globules of non-living energy that could not even be separated anymore. Powers oozing from the origin of creation - so raw and basic that they only possessed instinctual processing power - still managed to think, hmm, maybe someone should ensure that doesn’t happen again.

And so it was that Anath Homura’s message snuck through a cut in the fabric of space and time, echoing between the realms of the multiverse until they bounced off of something. A pair of eyes rolled open. A misty hand grasped at a long staff. A pair of mysterious feet settled in the bottom of a cryptic boat. The hand on the staff tightened its grip, and the robed arm leading up to the rest of the body flexed its muscles. A second hand coiled around the staff at a higher point and pulled down as well. A blink of a million worlds passed by before the vessel emerged through the cut in the fabric - a small, grey dory with a tall bow and an equally tall stern. Standing a bit further behind than in the middle of the boat, a lanky, featureless figure sailed a constantly forming and disappearing river through the empty space above the palace. A purpose laid stuck in his head like dust glued onto a wall: Find the souls of the dead and take them somewhere - anywhere - just so long as they do not just sit around and cause havoc. 

Sounded reasonable enough, he thought.

The Ferryman sailed gently, for he needed time to smell the world he had been birthed into. Dared he sail too fast, the coldness of space would pollute his soul-smelling nose. Yet the universe was in its infancy; he soon realised this when there were no souls to smell - none except those of the other divines brought into this reality, and some weak, very weak signals coming from the world below.

The Ferryman scratched his bald head in thought. Had not the powers of the universe been urgent? Why make him now if there was nothing to ferry? After much a-pondering, he found himself gently miffed. First day on the job and nothing to do.

Well, he could wait either here or down there. He saw colour flick across the world below. Something was happening there. 

Seemed like a good place to start.

[hider=Summary]
The Ferryman pops into existence and realises there’s no dead stuff yet! He decides to hang out on Galbar until shit happens.
[/hider]

[hider=MP Spendage!]
Start 5MP/5AP
3AP (down from 5AP): Create artifact - Wellington. Wellington is the Ferryman’s legendary vessel. The small ferry can traverse air, land and water by sailing a magically forming and disappearing river of magic. This also allows it to travel with incredible speed. The boat is nigh indestructible and can carry several more souls than it should seemingly have space for. To make sure souls cannot escape, Wellington's passengers are, uh, protected by a barrier meant to keep the rowdy spirits in and, uh... Well, it doesn't protect against outside threats, so it's more of a seatbelt or a straightjacket for those extra fearful of the life beyond death.
End 5MP/2AP
[/hider]