[h2]Asheel[/h2]

[hider=last time]
Asheel freaked out about sloth dying, made a triple form monowheel bike, zoomed about, found some goblins and then her Maintainer/Mother personality took the wheel to transport those goblins, and a load of other ones, to the new mega river that circles the world
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It was quite the picturesque scene: goblins, recently saved from the desert, danced and played along the riverbanks they had been brought to, saved by its sweet hydration and lush plant life that covered its banks. 

Admittedly it hadn’t all been sunshine and roses. Turns out drinking lots and then eating loads of random green things after having been close to dying of thirst had some ironic and unpleasant consequences on the digestive system. Plus they didn’t really know how to swim. Also the plants kept sassing them.

Still, for every group running headlong into tragedy there were ones who were having the time of their lives. Admittedly their lives had mostly consisted of gradually dying in a desert before that, and still, the river lands they had been dropped off in were beautiful. Clear blue waters filled with shimmering fish ran slowly but steadily by, flanked by wide zones of wetlands full of all sorts of pretty plants.

Those close to the central sea had it even better, because they could climb up the hills and cliffs surrounding the divot in the earth, and look down into it to see the seas, islands and, most glorious of all, the giant tree that defied all logic. 

One particular group of goblins sat atop one of these picturesque cliffs, a pile of fruits, leaves, sticks, roots and other plant things resting on the bear rock which they were periodically munching on as they argued casually. Them and a Daffotale growing in a clod of mud that one of the goblins had adopted.

“Iz a big tree, just very far away. Bigger than anything else in world!” one goblin who considered themselves master of perspective insisted.

“Nonsense. Shangshi La has huge waterfalls I’ll have you know. They must be way bigger to be able to fill the river!” the Daffodate sat in another goblin’s lap insisted.

“Yeah, but you never saw em, did you? Meanwhile I saw a big big hill in the desert. Spent whole time there trying to walking around it! That must be bigger. You can see past that tree” a second goblin insisted, pointing vaguely at an island behind the tree.

“Desert make walking slow, bet could walk nice and fast down there” insisted a third, only for the first to needle them with “Wot, you can walk on water now?”

“Ya know what mean, dummy” they retorted, only for a fourth to derail the question by asking “Wonder what it tastes like” which got them all musing on that very important question.

“Trees blech. Hard. Plus you just scrape teeth on it and get nuffin” one posited at last which got several nods, only for another to retort “But the leafy things, maybe they good? Gotta be huuuuuge. Eat one all day”

“Then have to climb up all the way there. Fall and you go splat. I know, I seen it in desert” another said, which got several shudders, and a few confused looks from the ones lucky enough to have not witnessed a messy death yet.

“Splat how? How can goblin go splat?” one of those innocent ones asked, to which the one who had brought it up responded by demonstrating, which they did by picking up a mushy fruit and then tossing it off the cliff they were all hanging about on top of. The fruit fell down down down, and then promptly went splat down below.

“Like that. But with more red. Creepy kinda dark red, not like the flowers that are red. Bad red” she insisted, which caused one to point up and ask “dat red?” as he pointed up at the way the southern sky

“I… Yeah… Like dat…” the goblin agreed hesitantly, rather unnerved by what the sky was doing. 

“Is dat bad? Did goblin go splat in sky?” the one who had asked about splatting asked again 

“I dunno… but don’t like it” the splat explainer replied, before glancing at their flower companion and asking “is that place where water come from”

“I suppose. But That’s on the other side of the world though, and that certainly doesn’t look like water” the Daffotale replied, the plant tilting its flower to one side as it tried to figure out what was going on, before in straightened up all of a sudden was it realized “oh no wait is that getting closer!?”

That question rebooted the perspective argument up for a few moments before the rain was spotted hitting the south side of the crater, and by that point it was too late. The blood rain swept across the inhabited equator within moments, splattered down from on high causing the goblins to panic and flee in all directions. Some kept panicking till the rain ended, or worse, met their untimely end as a result of their panic. Some realized the rain didn’t hurt and stopped, and some of those happened to turn their maws up to the sky and drink it in, giving them their first taste for the stuff. Those that did so in the desert bought themselves more time to be rescued.

The goblins on the hill however, found their way to a cool cave they had found earlier, rushing inside and out of the bloody rain, each and every one soaked in red. The only one saved from this was the daffotale, who’s beautiful delicate form had been shielded by its bearer’s own body. 

After they’d caught their breath, the brave among them then turned around to take a look at what they had been caught in, marvling in the awesome supernatural terror of it.

One of them leaned against the entrance of the cavern with one hand, and then happened to look at the spot after she pulled it away.

“Huh. Look. Hand on wall!” she called out, which freaked several out till they saw what she meant: namely that there was now a bloody handprint on the wall. Specifically “my hand!” the goblin marveled as she hovered it over the mark. 

“Me try me try!” another insisted, before they slapped a hand against the wall, leaving more of a splotch than a hand, causing them to go “awww” in disappointment

“Maybe slow like” a third said as he more gently pressed a blood soaked hand to the wall, then pulled it back, revealing the first bit of intentional art the goblins had ever seen (made by mortal hands anyway).

This got several oos from the other goblins, except the first who insisted “me discover it, not him!” before slapping the wall a few times for emphasis. Then she had a look at the splats and made a few more, wiping her hand on her blood covered body and deliberately adding a few more splats before stepping back and revealing her “big tree!” made out of handprints.

That got even more ooo’s and then everyone wanted to have a go, resulting in a flurry of art that left the goblins so distracted that they didn’t even notice that the rain was gone till one of them ran out of blood and went to get more.

“Oh! It over!” the goblin called out to the others excitedly, before realizing that that meant “aw, no more blood for making wall shapes” 

“Maybe pools?” Another suggested, which got them all excited again, goblins spilling out of the cave and then returning to it with fresh handfuls of blood, only for them all to get a proper look at what they had made in the light of day post blood rain.

A lot of it was just hands and nature, but several had made attempts to record other things, such as painting themselves or, in one big collaborative section, painting the goddess who had saved them, a goblin surrounded by a ring appearing before lots of smaller goblins.

“Oh, is that supposed to be me?” asked a voice from behind the goblins, causing them all to spin around and behold a figure wearing a wide brimmed pointed hat. Behind her were a collection of other goblins, their bodies still dusted with the sands of the desert, and behind that, parked on the river itself, the great crystal sphere that had brought them all here.

There was a little moment of stunned silence caused by the sudden appearance of the Maintainer in their midst lingered on for just enough time to get awkward, at which point one finally spoke up and confirmed that “yeah!” it was meant to be her, before the goblin asked, a little hesitantly “um, do you like it?”

“Oh I just love it my dears!” the goddess proclaimed with clear and genuine delight “such creativity, taking something that must have scared you so much and turning it into something beautiful,” before clarifying that “and I don’t just mean the part depicting me, naturally. It's all quite wonderful”

She swept into the cave to make a show of taking a proper look at everything, which left the goblins who had been huddled behind her exposed. They shied away from their fellows because they were, well, covered in blood while these goblins had clearly managed to avoid the storm inside. 

Of all people it was the Daffotale who broke the silence with a call of “Hello hello! Welcome to the river-lands of the great Tuuni!” before it added apologetically “I swear it’s a lot nicer looking when its not drenched in blood”

Indeed, the lands were absolutely coated in it, and the river presently ran red, with all the blood that had fallen into it here and upstream. 

“Not to worry, I’m sure that it will be cleaned up in no time” the Daffotale insisted.

“Yeah. Hope so. Blood is stinky, but there’s water and plant things to eat. Much better than desert” one of the blood covered goblins said, before offering to show the others about, and to get some grub in them.

Most eagerly agreed, but a few stayed behind, and asked about how they’d made the walls.

The remaining cave painters eagerly explained, but then lamented that “once blood is all gone, or dry, then no more painting”

“Maybe use own blood?” another suggested, which got mixed responses, along with one pointing out that “Not much space left either”

“Well, the blood will wear off in time unfortunately” the goddess told them as she stepped into their conversation “so there will be space then but ah, it would be a shame to lose it all. A real shame” before she gave a “hmmm” of a thought. 

She held that thought for a moment, and then snapped her fingers as she had an “idea!” before she lightly tapped the cave wall. In an instant, it grew and grew, forming a great cathedral sized dome of stone, which then lit up as the walls began to softly glow. 

The paintings that had been made were still there, but had been moved up to just above the height the goblins could reach, freeing up space below. If they looked closely at those paintings, they could see that they were slowly moving, rising up towards the ceiling. This caused one painting to bump into another due to the shape of the dome, causing both to disappear, much to the alarm of the painters, only for the Maintainer to quickly point out that they had re-appeared elsewhere on the dome.

“There we go, now there is space to paint more pictures, and the ones that have been made will cycle in and out of existence in such a way that everything gets a turn to reappear again and again and again” she told them getting many ooo’s and aaaahs of amazement from the goblins.

“Now then, as fun as this has been, I really should be off. There are still goblins to save out there, though i do hope all that blood has bought me some more time” she said before telling them “you all play nice now, and I look forwards to seeing what you end up filling this place with” and then stepping out the room in a flash, leaving the goblins to marvel at their gift for a few moments. 

Then they all ran outside to get more blood to do even more painting.

[hider=summary]
Some goblins hang out on a hill overlooking the central seat. They chatter about this and that thanks to Asheel teaching them how to talk, only to be interrupted by the blood rain. They flee for the safety of a nearby cave, and within invent cave painting (using blood). One of the things they paint is the Maintainer rescuing them from the desert, which catches the goddess' eye as she is delivering more goblins to the area.

She appears, praises their work, and then does the goodly equivalent of pining it to the fridge by making a holy site dedicated to the preservation of the art, as well as providing space to add even more art to the site’s collection.

Then she runs off to go save more gobbos, of which there will be quite a few more still alive thanks to the blood rain providing both fluid and nutrients

[/hider]

[hider=mp summary]
1mp for Asheel to teach the goblins about gods, and how to communicate with them (and by extension, each other)
1mp for a cycle based holy site, the cave of painted memories: a large dome like chamber in the eastern cliffs surrounding the central sea. Lit bly glowing walls, the chamber will cause paintings to rise up from the painting spot at the base of its walls, and then swirl the artwork around its dome, paintings fading in and out of existence in such a way that all the art gets its time to shine. The holy site is maintained by the addition of new art, and will be lost to entropy as all things do should additions cease to be made to it.
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