Hidden 11 mos ago Post by Legion02
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Legion02

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Something was amiss.

Allianthé had just finished her fount. The shimmering azure waters that she had drawn from the Wellspring surrounding her tree had turned a vibrant green. The pool was now nestiled between some mossy stones, in a small clearing in the forest that was slowly becoming Arbor. The warm sun could peer through the canopy to shine upon parts of the pool, while a large, drooping willow hung over another part of the pool, offering tranquility and shade. Some mortals - mostly elves and syllianth, mortals that had a closer bond with her. She started to explain what it was. The fount of Greensinging. Those who would bathe in its waters could weave arcana and the energies of life. It had it’s trappings of course, but an overwhelming sense stopped the goddess of Life.

Something was wrong.

A shill spread over her spine. Death had always been a part of her. Across the world she constantly felt the sudden, evercruel ceasure of her gift. She felt it like being stapped a thousand times with tiny needles. It had been wearing on her, even though she hid it behind her smiles and kind demeanor. What she felt now was not the tiny needles she was never quite getting used to. This was a slash, a stab, a sweep. In one fell strike someone had caused hundreds to die nearly at the same time. The goddess stopped talking, and let the pain sweep over her. Death, she had to accept it. For now. Though it only strengthened her resolve to offer everyone eternity someday.

Except the pain kept coming. Another stab, another sweep, another hundred lives consumed by a wretched reality. It was starting to bother her more and more, and the waves of pain got worse as well.

“My queen!” A syllianth rushed over. “My queen! The Khodex!” He was out of breath, his metallic shape nestled within the plants was heaving. “It-it-”

“Calm down.” Allianthé said, hiding away her own pain. She slowed her own false breathing - something she had been doing since she walked amongst more and more mortals - to help put the syllianth at ease. “Deep breaths. Calm down. What about the Khodex?”

“It was glowing, my queen! Colors swirled beneath its surface. Light tried- tried to escape!”

Allianthé’s eyes grew wide. In a blink she was gone. And in the next blink she stood before the Khodex. Sadly it wasn’t glowing. It didn’t have swirling patterns over it. It was just…jet black. She drooped her shoulders in disappointment. Was the syllianth lying? And if so, why? Or had the Khodex glowed and-

“Was glowy!” A goblin next to her exclaimed. “Real glowy biggest missus!” The goblin continued.

“Really?” Allianthé said, another wave of a hundred or so deaths washed over her. She hid it. “What did it look like?”

“Oh lotz o’ colors. Like da watah outside.”

The goddess knew that goblins had become ever curious creatures, even if they didn’t always manage to speak as eloquently as their larger mortal peers. She took a knee before the little goblin. “Do you think you could…show it to me?”

“Oh… Oh no. Me no crafter, like dem knife-ears. Sorry biggest missus. Sorry Chumpah can’t help there.”

Allianthé smiled. “This might help.” She tapped the forehead of the little goblin and channeled some of her divinity through him. The goblin, his form so small, seemed to hold a boundless amount of inspiration. The flickering of the khodex had a profound effect on him, but he lacked the insight to reflect what he had seen. He couldn’t put it back into the world. With this blessing, one that lept to so many goblins within the Tree of Life, opened his mind to it.

“Oooh!” He exclaimed. “Oh I- I think me can show you now, biggest missus! No, no not now.” He quickly looked away. “Needz them colors. Needs da black and da redz and da… da purplez! Purples a sneaksie color me thinks. To get- to get. But I shall make hurry. Hurry to show the biggest missus.” Like a little goblin possessed, he scampered off. Probably to find some even place somewhere around, together with some easy colors. He wouldn’t make a masterpiece. Surely not. But any approximation would not just bring joy to the goddess but to Arbor as a whole.

Another wave of pain went over Allainthé. This time she couldn’t suppress the wince. A thousand lives extinguished. She couldn’t ignore it anymore!

In the blink of an eye Allianthé was gone. A gale wind blew for a moment, before the air itself calmed around Arbor.

At the edge of the Land of Origins, the creation of the Khodex itself, she cast her gaze out further south. A dust storm was travelling straight towards. But her eyes saw more than just dust and wind. It saw fear. Rickety creations upon wheels were charging straight for the lands. More life! For a moment the goddess was overjoyed. Then the first goblins’ cart felt. The others didn’t even slow down. Small bodies fell down upon the ground. The few that could still move were mangled by the irate horde following behind. “No stop! You’re killing them!” Allianthé shouted. Her voice carried over the vast expanse to hit the horde. They didn’t listen. Why didn’t they listen!? She saw them reach small settlements. They slowed this time. Some stopped. Where they picking up others? What was going-

With spear and bow and sling more goblins died. Fire was consuming huts. They were dragging away bags. From so far away Allianthé could still see them filled with fruits. Why were they taking food!? She had tried so hard to make sure there would not be a shortage. Sure enough, her touch might not be complete out here but was there a need for such savagery. For such finality?

Wrath struck Allianthé like no other. Like a furious wind she sped towards the horde. The air could not move fast enough around her. A loud bang rippled across the sky before the goddess slammed in front of the horde. From the dust that billowed around her a dozen, silken arrows from shot forth, catching carts and stopping them in their spot. Hundreds others veered off. At first they tried to return fire with slings and bows. None of it hurt Allianthé. More silk-spun arrows flew forth. The goblins were fast to realize that they stood no match and fled.

The goddess wasn’t done. Her bow turned back into a spider-ring as she jumped from the still settling upon one of the carts. “Why are you killing!?” Allianthé demanded from one of the goblins.

He was frantically trying to cut himself loose but stopped when the eyes of a goddess looked straight at him. “The things! The monsters! The beasts! Killing is all they do! South we must go! Away we must go!” He yelped.

His pleas pulled Allianthé out of her anger. He was right. The death, or rather the sudden end of life, that she felt could not have been caused by this horde. Not even by two or three of them. It was something else. Something bigger.

The baying confirmed her fear.

Something far beyond the horizon was coming. Something big, something dangerous, something that killed indistriminately.

With a flick of her hand Allianthé released the webs. Some of the carts could continue. Others were broken by the sudden stop. The goblins frantically tried to repair them. Allianthé would’ve helped them, if she didn’t feel the desperate need that a cataclysm was moving towards her and the lands of origin. She flew up, slower as to not deafen the little goblins, to see from higher up what was coing.

The little goblin was right. Some horrific creature was thundering towards the Lands of Origins. They weren’t marauding, they were fleeing. Allianthé would have to give them a propper home. But first she had to deal with this. A land-blackening army of monsters followed the titanic beast as well. From high up Allianthé could see them at work. They crushed and killed and bit and slaughtered. Some of them, their backs laden with corpses, hurried back. That was a mystery to unravel when she had the time. First she had to reason with this thing.

“Stop! In the name of Life itself!” Allianthé bellowed as she flew down towards the beast. It didn’t listen. In fact it almost rammed Allianthé aside. She flew away and down again, stopping further. “In the name of your very life force I command you to cease!” It had no effect on the titan. Who kept coming at her. Her eyes glowed a pale, sickly green now. With a thousand voices as one she commanded: “Stop!”

Some of the smaller creatures stopped. It was hard to disobey life itself when you were a breathing, living thing. Others, in the shadow of their titan, barely cowered. “Stop!” Allianthé repeated. More smaller ones slowed and stopped. The power, the divine Might, projected was flowing over the world now. But the titan kept going, kept crushing small creatures under its path with little care.

“Stop!” Allianthé shouted a final time. She poured all authority she had as the Verdant Queen into that command.

Egrioth reared up before her. At first seemingly to stop her. Then two of its spire-legs came down on her. Allianthé’s small shape was sent flying towards the ground with such force that a crater spawned around her. She tried to get up. The two legs came down again. Quaking the earth. It raised its legs again and continued its charge. Thousands of creatures swarmed the crater, braying for the divine ichor.

Allianthé was downed, her divine essence spilling from beneath her. Pieces of broken bone and bark laid strewn around her. Blood poured from a half-shaped body in which she tried to encase herself in. It never stood a chance at living. But for a split second it had, and then Esgrioth had killed it. Outside the beasts were calling for her. Why did they want to kill her like she was some mortal? She was life! She was them! In all of them! Allianthé didn’t understand, couldn’t understand. There was only a vile frenzy.

The wounds she was dealt was not a simple thing. It was not something that would just heal. Something in her very core was broken. With pure dread she realized that she could not fight this thing.

But she had to do something. Monstrous beasts kept gnawing and snarling against the strange, wood and bone cage. Things were breaking all around her. They were getting closer. What was she supposed to do? Mantibles broke through a nearby rib. She could see the frenzy in whatever creature was behind that maw. It got closer, with a strange desperation it was squeezing its body through the hole it made. Others were making their way in as well. What wa she supposed to do here!? “Please.” Allianthé begged. “Please you’re… You’re alive as well.” They were. Everything around her, they were her children as well. She didn’t want them hurt. She didn’t want them hurting her. “Please just… calm down.” The beast broke through deeper, Allianthé could see its five eyes now. There was a maddened frenzy in them. A hunger for… her. For anything! “Please just… calm down. There is enough- there is enough food around. I promise.” The beast could understand her, that was certain. All creatures could understand their mother. This one just didn’t care. He kept snarling at her and pushing its body through the hole. Bones kept breaking around her.

“I’m sorry.” The creature before her collapsed.

In a split second the thousand creatures in the crater dropped down as well. Their maddened frenzy stopped dead in its tracks. The lively fire behind their eyes, that burned with nothing but hunger and madness, was gone. From amid the pile of flesh, carrapace, bark and regret an emerald star began to rise.

“I’m sorry.” Allianthé said. Godly tears fell from her eyes as she held the condensed life force in both of her hands. A thousand had died around her, because of her, and the resulting pain was beyond anything she had ever felt. Despite that, her tearful eyes turned to look at the Monster. In her hands the emerald light began to glow. “You must be stopped. I will stop you.” The green light turned into a shape, an orb made entirely of Jade. At first it was solid, then the color began to recede from the edges, until the only thing within the now glassy orb that was still jade was the Beast.

“Egrioth. Your madness must be halted.
Egrioth. Your savageness will be stopped.
Egrioth. Your wrath can be cooled.

I mark thee, for endless, restless, relentless life will follow thee.
I mark thee with the Eternal Marshes.”


Impossible life burst from the very ground below the horse-like beast. Giant willows reached out, broken by the charge and reached up again. Pits of murky water filled with biting fishes and wrapping vines trapped the millions of bestial servants. Even more vines reached out towards the Outer Beast. Wherever it stepped the swampy ground below gave way for wrapping moss and strangling vines.

And it still could not stop him.

Allianthé could barely see that her artifact’s curse did not stop Egrioth forever. It only slowed it down. But at at least its mortal servants would have a tougher time sticking close to its master. As Egrioth charged on, the very marsh around it moved with it.


Allianthé did not land gently.

She fell near her tree. Elves, goblins, and syllianth came flocking towards her. In a second they realized something was very wrong with their god-queen. Golden light was flowing out of her. Was she bleeding!? Could a god bleed?

“Goddess!” An elf reached her and tried to get her up. Allianthé was still shaken. She looked up and peered into the elf’s eyes.

“Aenos.” She said with a smile, for of course she knew every name. “I will see greatness in you.” She touched him on the shoulder, and a beautiful, emerald light shone from behind his eyes as their color turned from hazel to bright green. “A titan is coming.” she started coughing, like she was sick. “And an army comes with it. Arbor… Arbor cannot fall. Do you understand,”

“Goddess… no!” Aenos exclaimed.

“You must find- find a way to stop the onslaught.”

A syllianth arrived as well. She reached and helped up Allianthé as she tried to fashion some support from the metal within her. “Goddess, what happened.”

“Irrithae.” Allianthé said and smiled at the syllianth. “You remind me… of your other mother a bit.” She touched the syllianth’s shoulder and again verdant green light shone from behind her eyes, forever transforming their color. “I will have to… rest. For a time. The world… cannot forget. Killing, hurt, it is wrong. There must be growth. Eternal, ceaseless. Promise me, Irrithae. Have them remember.”

“Goddess- I-” Allianthé collapsed in the arms of the elf and the syllianth. Other mortals came flocking too. Each held up the all-mother. She was breathing ragedly, even though she did not need air. “To the Tree!” Irrithae yelled, and all followed.

Allianthé, wounded Allianthé, was carried into the tree and laid before the Khodex. Leaves from the great tree fell down from above, and wrapped themselves around her. Trillion spiders came from every nook and cranny, sending goblins and elves that had taken up residence inside the tree running. They began to move towards the crowd, and in utter fear they began to run out of the tree. A few, sad stragglers were caught in the great web that was now filling the hollow inside of the tree.

And so the people of Arbor stood before a sealed Tree of Life.

“Life… is locked away.” Said Irrithae, confused as to why she knew what words to speak. “And Life will remain locked… until the world is freed.” The people were looking at her. In their eyes she could see the endless questions they had. “Aenos?” She asked. The elf was standing beside her. “What should we do.”

He looked around. His eyes were somehow sharper. None of it gave him any answers.

“Aenos?”

He was a young elf. A faithful elf. He had followed the edicts of his goddess to the best of his capabilities but he was not without his sins. He had to protect something but how? His eyes caught those of a friend and rival of his. When he wanted to grab a piece of Aenos’ fruit, he had punched him. Was that what he was supposed to do? “We- I… I will do what I must.”





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Hidden 11 mos ago 11 mos ago Post by King of Rats
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King of Rats

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Tales of the Suneater: The Logistics of Conquest


Change had come to the village, far faster than any had expected. Not only had Tyryk declare himself the Suneater, he had quickly cemented his role as ruler of the village and its surrounding land. Using not only the loyalty of the warriors, but gaining the respect of the village itself with the defeat of the goblins. While at first even Tyryk was unsure of what to do with the prisoners now in his custody, another new change would aid in deciding what would become of them.

The Striders, the crystalline guests that Tyryk had brought with him to the village, had quickly proven themselves as great aids to the village and the Suneater. Easily taking to the Beastfolk’s language, they explained their nature as consumers and holders of knowledge, teaching the village a vast amount of practices and things they had learned. From smithing with various metals that could be found in the mountains nearby, to basic cultivation of the fruits and grains that lived upon the river bank.

With the Strider’s aid, the village would begin to prosper beyond their formerly basic life, and Tyryk would find a use for his feral prisoners. Sending them northward with Beastfolk guards, they would be tasked with mining the metals from within the caves, guided by the bioluminescent moss that would be fashioned as lights as they progressed deeper within. They additionally would be trained to become more civilized workers, to various degrees of success.

Then came the boats, and the tales from the golden flowers.

Word from beyond the lands of their village had begun to reach them, the flowers telling all sorts of tales of civilizations that had begun to form upon the banks. Each tale only inspired the Village further, driving them to build further and expand their operations. But that couldn’t be done alone, but the arrival of the boats and floating bugs would aid that even further. They carried with them a great many people, both goblin and beastfolk alike. Some came for trade and talking, others were merely exploring to satisfy a deep fire within, but most had come to find a place to live, and Tyryk, ever ambitious, welcomed them in.

And so the village would grow, shifting from a small collection of shoddy buildings to a grander town of refined craftsmanship and work. Some even split off and formed other nearby communities, growing their influence beyond their valley. But the growing population had begun to weigh heavily on their works, even with the new plants that could be grown upon the river banks. If the Suneater were truly to continue his goal of becoming a grand conqueror of the river, this would need to be fixed.

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Tyryk overlooked the riverine farm that sat just along the banks of the grand river; several beastfolk carefully walked amongst the partially flooded fields of rice, sugarcane, and floatatos. A hippo fullbood stood to the right of Tyryk, marking down various notes about the crops upon a clay tablet. To his left, stood one of the Crystal striders, Anu, who eagerly watched the goings on of the farm. Their crystal form was luckily kept underneath a finely designed cloak of leather and fiber, allowing them to be out without blinding the non-strider inhabitants. While Tyryk had not anticipated bringing a strider along to this trip, Anu had insisted on joining, seemingly interested in the types of crops they were growing.

“Will this harvest be enough to cover the expansions? I was hoping to send a shipment out to the goblins in the highlands soon.” Tyryk asked, casting a glance towards the hippo.

The hippo took a moment to respond, checking the various markings they had made on the tablet, smacking their large lips together a few times as they thought. “It might be enough, but we’ll be cutting it close, even with the influx and trade we’re not doing as good as we could be my lord.”

A growl came from the warlord, this wasn’t good. His efforts to organize and develop the region had made it a growing hub amongst the Four Daughters River, but the farms needed to be bigger each time. He thought over courses of action, farms would need to be expanded, but that would require more focus on it, and less on his other projects.

Next to him, Anu made a soft noise, almost as if clearing their throat. “If I may offer a helpful idea Lord Suneater.”

He nodded, waving a hand at the strider. “Go ahead.”

“I’ve been taking note of the various crops we utalize in the farms. I believe with some testing and research I may be able to help with our food problem. It will take some time though.”

Tyryk gave another nod. “Do as much as you can, whatever enhancements we can make to our system will be beneficial.” He gestured at the Hippo. “Bring Anu to your seed stockpiles, allow them to pick out what they will require.”

“On it my lord.” The hippo gave a bow to the Suneater, motioning for Anu to follow. The two of them headed off towards the storage buildings that sat just beyond the farm’s fields. Leaving Tyryk alone for a moment with his thoughts.

While he was hopeful in the strider’s ability to make a breakthrough, there would need to be more change than just some crop improvements. He wished to avoid open conflict with other communities on the river at the moment, especially that walled city he had heard about from some of the traders, so raiding was not on the table. But this solution could not be solved on their own, but becoming dependent on the basic trade they got was equally not an option, Something needed to change, and soon.

He turned from the farmlands, making his way back towards his insectoid mount that sat lazily grazing upon the grass. Only to see another mounted figure draw closer. It became clear who it was quickly, as the large black and orange wings and head covered in a fluff of equally orange hair and feathers noted to Tyryk that it was Konne. Who had quickly become his second in command in matters of the military as his rule was cemented.

“Good day!” She shouted, waving a hand as she drew close. “I come bearing some news that I thought you would like to know.”

“I hope something good.” He responded, saddling up onto his own mount. Giving it a slight shove to get it moving back towards the main town.

“It could help us that's for sure.” Konne continued, quickly sliding up to his side and having her mount match his’ lazy pace.

“So what is it?”

“Our scouts from the south came back with their report. Apparently, with some help from the daffotales, they discovered a new settlement close to the southern embankments. According to them it was a large farming community, populated by ‘Snouters’.”

“Snouters?”

“Large pig folk, kinda like us in appearance but just pigs, though according to the daffotales they’re really good at farming.”

“Farming you say.” Tyryk thought for a moment, before nodding his head and encouraging his mount to move quicker. “In that case, we shall get supplies and some assistance at the town, then we ride south.”

Konne stammered for a second, barely catching up to Tyryk in time to continue speaking. “Right now? It's a few days worth of travel.”

“Better then we get started sooner. Besides, if these Snouters are as good at farming as the daffos say then I wish to meet them.” He continued to encourage his mount onward, wishing to make it to the town quicker.

“Fine.” Konne sighed, knowing it was better than to argue with Tyryk when his mind was set on a task. Instead she just followed along, the two of them riding across the grasslands towards the town. To prepare for meeting their new neighbors.

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It did take the retinue a few days to reach the settlement that the scouts had told them about. Accompanying him and Konne was several of their warriors, alongside one of the crystal striders, Polassar, who had been the first to learn their language and had quickly become Tyryk’s confidant in matters of dealing with the various groups under his rule. So it was only fitting to bring them along when dealing with what may be yet another subject to his conquests.

They now could see the edges of the settlement, being able to make out the large shapes of its inhabitants going about their days. Most hadn’t noticed them, seemingly focused on whatever job they were focused on, whether it was carrying baskets of goods or working away at textiles. But a few had noticed, already they stood staring back at the Retinue, seemingly deciding on what to do. Finally, one of the pig-like inhabitants broke off, heading deeper into the village.

“What's the plan?” Konne asked besides Tyryk, a hand firmly planted on the hilt of her blade.

“We shall wait and see what their response is.” He replied, his face was calm but he too drew a hand towards the ax at his side. “I do not wish to antagonize these people before we’ve had a chance to speak.”

“Very well, but I’m going to keep an eye on them. Hopefully Pols can keep everyone calm enough.”

The strider looked up from their thoughts, one of their larger claws rubbing some dirt off one of their eyes. “I shall endeavor to do my best to serve the Suneater.” They spoke with a cheery beam.

Tyryk chuckled at the Strider’s eagerness to meet a new group. He hoped that the rumors of these ‘snouters’ abilities at farming were not exaggerated. If they could at least be convinced to trade it would go a long way to helping his food supply issue. Conquest would come later, first came logistics.

A commotion from the village roused him from his thoughts, now it seemed the rest of the settlement had become aware of their presence. Many of the snouters had begun to gather to stare, all of them still seemingly waiting on something to happen. A sudden loud booming roar forced them to scatter back to their jobs, many picking up the baskets and items they had set to the side to stare. Emerging from the crow was a smaller group of snouters, at their head was a beast of a pig, his large frame matching and even exceeding Tyryk’s, his face was scarred, with one of his tusks broken off. He wore a simple outfit though, one more befitting a simple farmer than the warrior he appeared to look like.

This was likely the settlement's leader, good, Tyryk was hoping he would be able to meet with someone of authority. He raised his hand to give a greeting wave towards the leader who now stared at his retinue, taking his hand off his ax to dissuade any suspicion they might have. But the leader did not respond in kind, instead he stood there, eyes focused on scanning over the entire retinue, clearly contemplating the new visitors.

“Perhaps we should give a greeting.” Polassar inquired, putting their cloak up further to avoid a stray beam of light blinding the snouters.

Tyryk nodded, it would do no harm to give a simple greeting. He straightened up on the saddle, taking care not to move forward. “Good day!” He shouted towards the pig folk. “We mean no harm! We come from the north and wish to speak!”

A few of the snouters near their leader murmured something to them, but were quickly silenced by a raised hand. Taking a few steps forward, their leader straightened his back, showing off his sheer size. Before bellowing a response. “You and one other can come closer! I shall do so with one of my own!”

So they were willing to talk, good. Tyryk nodded at the strider as he dismounted, motioning for them to follow him. He gave a look towards Konne as well, it didn’t need to be said but he was sure she would keep an eye out in case they tried anything. Him and Polassar drew closer, with the Snouter leader and one of his followers doing the same. It didn’t take long for the two pairs to draw close enough that they wouldn’t need to shout to be heard. Though they both took care to maintain a fair distance from each other.

“Greetings.” Tyryk began. “I am Tyryk, the Suneater, lord of the villages to the north. And this is my aid, Polassar the Strider.” They gave a little bow when introduced, their prismatic crystals shining a soft rainbow beneath their cloak.

The snouter gave a soft snort at the introduction. “Suneater eh? So you’re the bloke those flowers have been talking about.” He motioned a hand towards himself and the snouter beside him. “I am Znorik the Bold, leader of the Rock Tooths, this is my son, Ortha.” The smaller pigman did look much like Znorik now that Tyryk looked between the two, just far younger and far less scared. “What exactly brings someone like you to our land?”

He gave a chuckle, the snouter’s face was stone, he would have to play this safe. “I came in hopes of meeting with your settlement. You see, my people,” He gestured towards his retinue, “have an issue. While we have learned much, our agriculture has faltered. We heard tales of your people’s abilities, and I wished to see if we could not mutually aid each other.”

A soft snort came from Znorik, who casted a side eye at his son, before returning his focus to Tyryk. “S’pose it’s to be expected, you’ll find no better farmers than my lot.” He looked past Tyryk, towards his retinue, one of his hands reaching up to stroke a tuft of fur at the bottom of his chin. “Not sure what your lot could give us though. How do I know we’re getting a fair shake?”

Tyryk gestured to Polassar. “My aid is quite knowledgeable on those matters, and can certainly find something of us we can provide. We have stores of knowledge and skills in our lands that could prove helpful to your people.”

The strider nodded along, adding onto the end of his statement. “Indeed, me and my kind are incredibly knowledgeable in many matters, we would be more than happy to extend our aid to your settlement.”

Znorik continued to stroke his chin beard, giving it a few moments of thought before speaking. “I s’pose it wouldn’t hurt to at least ‘ear ya out.” His mouth opened to continue, but before he could, a commotion began to emerge from the village.

The gathered group turned towards the new noise, emerging from the village, almost frantic looking, was another snouter. They waved their hands, calling out towards Znorik. “Chieftain! Chieftain! Come Quick! Beasts! Monsters! They’re Coming!”

The chieftain turned towards his son, grabbing his shoulder and pointing an authoritative finger at him. “Sound the bell, we need everyone to get prepared.” He turned away, rushing back towards the village with his son at his side. Another command came from him towards the warriors that had come with him, who quickly began to ready themselves and head westward.

Tyryk turned towards Polassar. “Help the villagers prepare themselves, assist in whatever way you can.” The strider nodded, making sure their cloak was in place as they skittered towards the village. He then turned towards his own retinue, it wasn’t big, only 15 warriors including himself and Konne, but it would do. He waved a hand at them, urging them onward. “Konne! To me!”

It didn’t take any convincing on her part, with a jolt she urged both her and Tyryk’s mounts forward, followed by the other warriors. They stopped for only a second to allow him to mount his bug, before they once more urged them onward. Their mounts allowed them to quickly traverse the village pathways, moving past the snouters who had begun to fortify their houses and gather up whatever could be used as weapons. It didn’t take them long to meet up with Znorik, who had gathered his own warriors in the village center, he looked up from his questioning of the villager that had raised the alarm, a quizzical eyebrow raising at the Beastfolk’s arrival.

“And what do you lot think you’re doing?”

“Coming to your aid.” Tyryk replied, dismounted and taking a few steps towards the chieftain. “We’re warriors, and we’re not going to stand idly by as your village comes under attack.”

While he clearly would’ve liked to refuse the help, the chieftain seemed to be swayed otherwise. “Very well, they’re coming from the west, we need to head over now.”

He nodded, motioning for his retinue to dismount and follow. The combined warriors, now augmented by a gathering array of snouters prepared to fight, made their way towards the western edge of the village. By the time they reached the edge, they could already see what was coming. They were monsters, there was no other way to define them, their skin was a putrid grey and stretched taut over their frames, bone-like claws and ridges erupted from still bleeding wounds, and hideous maws of teeth could be seen as they drew ever closer. Tyryk had no clue what these monsters were, but he knew that they were dangerous, everything about them told him that.

He unshackled the ax at his hip, testing its weight in his hand. It was a new invention, gathered from tales and trade with the great walled city. It was made of something the striders had called metal, copper, he believed. No matter, if it would slice through whatever these creatures were, it would do him good. To his side, Konne had drawn her own copper blade, her wings readied to launch her upward as soon as the beasts arrived. Meanwhile to his right, Znorik had been handed a large hammer by one of the warriors, his focus entirely on the coming horde.

The demons had seen them by now, many of them dropping to all fours to charge faster towards the village. Beastfolk and Snouter prepared for the crash, their weapons at the ready to slay whatever these beasts were. Tyryk uttered a prayer to the Flame and Chaos under his breath, they would need it. The demons were here.

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Hidden 11 mos ago Post by Lord Zee
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Lord Zee I lost the game

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Sylia


The Battle of Sylann





The first incursion began the following week, as scores of refugees, holdouts and terrified mortals were entering the city. The speed at which the beasts came upon them was frightening. Small bands ripping and tearing apart the land. It took a band of mortals led by Hollis, with bows, arrows and swords to deal with the threat and even then many were lost. Sylia herself was concerned, having not realized just how voracious the enemy would be at the chance of mortal flesh. She had suspected it would take weeks to shirk the great inland sea, pillaging and ravaging as they went. It may have even taken months before any might have arrived. But now she knew they were not so mindless.

They were targeting Sylann and the surrounding area. It would only be a matter of time before a horde or even any army arrived at her doorstep. Sylia would be damned if she let them do as they pleased.

So whilst Galaxor dealt with one of the beasts, she could only hope that her fellow kin would deal with the other and even so, that a few would start mopping up and dealing with the source of this mess. Meanwhile, she would protect those the mortals in her charge and those who thought themselves independent of any aid.

As the gates shut and walls took to siege, the mortals in Sylann began enforcing the croplands and the waterways. The city was nigh impenetrable thanks to the walls but one could never be too careful. Another problem quickly became apparent- there simply were not enough able bodies to man every post, defend the wall, the streets, the Council chamber and the Atelier. Already the more affluent were hoarding resources and small bands of personal bodyguards. Those needed most on the frontlines.

Sylia did not wish to intervene entirely. Mortals could not ever truly grasp the scope of this Galbaric Incursion. Fear and chaos would reign unless they came together and unified and what greater a unifying force? So she would leave such distastefulness to Hollis, while she enacted a grander plan.

The third day came of hit and runs upon the walls by the fiendish monsters of red clay and rancid smells. Whilst from the skies there came attacks of claw and teeth with the occasional spittle of acid. Sylann’s defenders fired arrows and struck down those that managed to climb to the top of the walls but more and more enemies were coming. Upon the fourth day a creature with great claws for digging burst up in a market square, spewing forth a horde of small spindly monsters that hacked and burned what they could. This happened three more times before they were put down by brave mortals. But many feared this would only be the beginning.

On the fifth day, the river was breached by black creatures with too many fish heads that dragged many into the depths before they were driven away. Outside the wall, more and more demons were gathering. Some were dragged with great red chains, as they had no discernible arms or legs, just great bulbous bodies and long necked mouths.

Then the sixth day came.




Althea shouted down at her goblin archers, “Fire! Fire at will!” Down the line Vaesna, her hand’s sharp blades, also gave the command to fire. The tall syllianth woman- no, Syllianth Warrior, looked out over the wall as arrows whistled past down into the horde of shrieking monsters. They were so far below they simply looked like a bubbling black and red mass. She waved her bladed arm, the metal already coated with black blood, to fire again and again. Most of the goblin archers were firing directly over the lip and back into the wall, as their enemies climbed. Others shot up at the sky, before winged beasts with too many tails and too many limbs plucked soldiers off the wall and cast them into the abyss. There was smoke behind them, as the city fell into chaos.

This was the worst attack yet and the screams, oh the screams. Althea hoped Ophelia and her baby were alright. There was a shout and a clay creature, punctured by so many arrows it looked like on those porcupine beastfolk, crawled over the wall. She was swift, as were others, and between her own sword cleaving its head apart and the spears that thrust and pushed- it toppled back over the wall.

“Good work men!” She shouted, allowing a bit of pride to well up in her. She couldn’t let herself think of the innocents down below the city, nor what fate would befall them. She had to trust in Hollis and the Goddess. But it had been almost a week of constant fighting and Althea was perturbed to say the least. Even Vaesna, who had slain in single combat the largest clay creature she had ever seen, was beginning to feel the effects of the siege. More and more of them were dying, the goblins and the beastfolk and every time she saw it happen, she felt a little part of her die with them.

The Syllianth were made to teach and protect. Not watch as their charges were slain, protection useless. A flying creature vomited a spray of acid at a nearby goblin and in one quick leap, Althea held up her other arm over the goblin, a great shield it had become, and the acid hit it. She grunted as the acid bit into her appendage but it was only a small pain compared to it landing on unprotected flesh.

“Thank you Althea!” A goblin woman with large blue eyes, carrying a bow, looked up at her with awe.

“Keep firing those arrows, Manda.” She grunted through the pain.

“Yes lady!” Manda beamed, pulling out an arrow with an iron head. She fired, the arrow lost in the hail of many. Althea hoped her mark was true.

A great booming erupted from below and Althea began to shout but it was too late. Seconds later, she felt the impact of something, then several things, on the wall below. She knew the wall was impenetrable, so what was- her soul shuddered as she saw several goblins begin to peer over the edge and the large hands that grabbed them.

“MANDA!” She screamed, rushing to save the small goblin, but it was too late. One moment the girl had been at the edge and then the next she was flung off, replaced by a black spindly hand that pulled up a beast out of her nightmares. It stood like a man but taller than her, with two shriveled black heads and numerous red eyes. It had four boney arms, two of which held nothing but its own clawed fingers and the other two, they were just like her- a jagged black sword, made of bone. Pure weapon.

As more carried themselves over the wall, Althea loosed a war cry and faced the one who had killed Manda. Not letting it get a foothold, she used her bulk and slammed into the thing, sending it tumbling back but not over the wall. It had used its sword arms to grip the lip of the wall and flung itself back over and into her. She blocked as it swung, the blow forcing her back. Then it gripped her shield with its free hands, wrenching her arm at such an angle it almost broke before she gave in and then it used the opening to slice her torso from navel to chin.

She hissed, reeling back, the cut only skin deep but painful. It would scar, the damn thing would make her scar. What a stupid thought to have. She readied herself as it swung again, blades thudding against the shield she brought up. It went for her shield but she had expected that and backstepped, bringing her sword in for a piercing stab. It parried her, and Althea was flung off balance. Another sword swept from her side, she barely had time to bring up her shield and the blow sent her reeling to the floor.

It began to stoop over her, red eyes full of malice. She hadn’t noticed it before, didn’t have time too, but now she did in all of its horror. The things chest ripped apart, revealing rows of sharp teeth and a sucking tongue that led to an endless black. Panic seeped in as the fight abandoned her. There was no stopping these things. Not like this. She began to crawl backwards, her arms becoming hands once more. Not like this. Please, by the gods, not like this. She looked around. Looked for any sort of help. She saw none. Her allies were dying. Her friends and comrades over the last week lay ruined upon the stone. More demons climbed over the wall. Vaesna… Vaesna still fought. Her blades dancing between each swing, each dodged grasp. Althea watched as she cut the hands off a demon and as it screamed, she cut its head off. Two more charged her, half eaten bodies gaping from their bodies and Althea was reminded of her own impending doom. She took solace in the fact that Vaesna would survive.

The real hero.

There came a burst of silver colored light from the sky, a brightness so intense she shut her eyes. When it faded, she opened them to see that the demon had been pierced through the head by a long spear. Althea blinked and stood, the silver spear beckoning to her. It radiated power and when she put her hands upon the swirling shaft, she felt it course through. Invigorating like a breeze after a summer rain, or the taste of a sweet apple, a lover’s kiss. She felt stronger and was glad for it. She hefted it from the demon’s head and held the point high. She let out a new war cry and charged at the nearest demons, the two that attacked her friend.

While its back was to her, she threw the spear and it landed true, right in the back of the demon. It screamed with pain and before it could react, Althea was there, stabbing it in the head with her own sword arm. With a squelch it fell and she pulled the spear free, assaulting the next demon with Vaesna. It fended them off, blocking and parrying until Althea saw an opening and took it, plunging the spear into the fiend with lightning speed. Vaesna then cut off its heads.

Her friend’s eyes bulged as she looked at the spear. “Is that why you became so fast?” she asked.

Althea shrugged. “It didn’t feel fast. It made an opening and I took it.”

The two began to jog towards the next battle. “Althea, even Hollis wouldn’t have been able to do what you just did. Thank the maker.”

Althea nodded, her head still swimming from almost dying and suddenly thriving. She could hardly know what to think, especially at a time like this. She just… She just knew what to do. It felt right.

“I’m glad you’re still here.” Althea whispered, looking over Vaesna.

“So am I.” her friend said and the battle waged once more.




“Oh, to be a divine.” Sylia sighed. She had been watching the battle from a distance. Gathering information and weaknesses. She was not a warlike God to begin with but this, this entire situation across the globe, was troublesome. There were no gods in the pantheon with martial prowess. Certainly they could fight and Galaxor was proof of that. But was this incursion a fluke or a summons? Was it a test or the start of a pattern?

She knew struggling would always be a part of the mortal equation. It was only natural to them as it was for her to create. But if these struggles from the realms beyond their own became a normal occurrence, well, perhaps it was time to finally act. She had already saved Althea and a few others from certain doom. The enemy were becoming crafty, adapting strategies when they failed. Already they were building higher siege placements to scale the wall, the twinsword demons had only been a delaying tactic. Soon they would begin to hammer the city itself.
Could she let her mortals struggle anymore? She shook her head.

“They’ve proved themselves and now I shall prove their devotion to me. To all Divine kind.” She smirked.

From the Atelier they came. Beings of pure metal. Bronze, iron, even steel. Taking suitable shapes for war. Towering over all who dwelt within Sylann. At their head strode Sylia herself. This would not be an army for protection, though they could protect, but for the purposes of war. Thousands marched forth, clearing the streets of any would be foes. Into them Sylia had poured the durability of metal, the knowledge of the earth and the abilities for combat.

Wherever they went, wherever the earth had been torn asunder, they began to fill in the holes. And more came from the Atelier. When they reached the gates, every single gate with Sylann, they opened them and marched forth.

The world was under siege but didn’t mean one couldn’t fight back.






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Hidden 11 mos ago Post by DracoLunaris
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DracoLunaris Multiverse tourist

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The Tricity area grand tour

Thirty seven thousand feet above the lands of origins a figure floated above creation, but she was no god. Instead she was the product of chaotic chance, as all beastfolk were, and in her case the dice had been kind in some ways and cruel in others. She was one of those cursed to be without mortal arms, and instead she had the wings of a vulture stretching out from her shoulders. She was also small as a goblin would go from the other half of her gamble, which was what let her fly better than most bird-folk. She had the bird’s eyes too, and it was with them that she gazed out from her lofty perch, having reached it by riding thermals.

She hadn’t come up here for fun, but rather to feed her belly and her flame, for one of the rich folk of her city had promised her a feast if she would ascend and get him a report about the invading beasts they’d all been warned about. Unfortunately, even with her enhanced eyes, the invading forces were just dots. Or had been. Until something that was markedly not a dot had come striding over the horizon.

Egrioth. She became transfixed by the titan, and so rather than swooping down to report, she stayed up there long enough to witness the spec that was Allianthé fly out to battle the titan, and then her failure as she was sent flying back to the great tree at the heart of the land’s of origins.

The beastwoman hovered there for a few moments before summing up all she had just seen with a simple “Oh fuck” and then diving back down towards the city she called home.




A few hours after the vulture-goblin had witnessed the divine battle, Lilly, ‘discoverer’ of the art of speaking with one's past lives and secretly daughter of Asheel, excited a council chamber within which she had just heard a retelling of said battle.

From those steps, she paused to look out over the rest of Tricity as she mulled over what she had just learned. True to its rather literal name, Tricity had started out as three separate cities, all of them built into and atop the hills and cliffs that ringed the land of origin, and specifically the spot where the eastern river entered them.

The oldest settlement was the one she was currently in, spreading outwards from the cave of painted memories, a site holy to Asheel within which generations of folk had left their artworks to be remembered for all of time. Naturally it was a popular place to make a home for the devout, and so it was surrounded by the well of citizens of the city, and, by extension, most of the important buildings, such as the council chamber themselves which sat within view of that temple/art gallery.

As did her own family home. Or rather, the family home of her mother. The Mother. Despite her divinity, the building was not the most impressive or richest place around, though the sprawling stone structure still represented a great deal of wealth and influence. Not the goddess’s own however, for none but Lilly knew that was what she was.

Instead it came from her large and successful family, though certainly she’d had a hand in their triumphs.

Still, when Lilly returned home it wasn’t to speak with any of them, and so she traded only brief hellos with the goddess’s varios partners and descendants and promised that she’d fill them in on the council decision soon. Goblin families were large, and not at all monotonous, so even the large home was still bustling, and so it was something of a miracle that she managed to find the Mother alone as she did. Or, well, almost alone

“Hello dear, I take it you’re here to see me?” the slightly wrinkled but not as much as she should be goblin asked from where she was sitting by the fire and rocking one of her grandchildren in her arms. Her garbs were a comfy cotton robe dyed a cozy red, and her slightly graying hair was done up in a pair of buns. She was not wearing any kind of hat.

“And youz already know why,” Lilly replied, rather combatively. This wasn;t the first time they’d talked about the impending crisis after all.

“I’ve heard a thing or two. That city wide announcement for one. Somewhat large monsters coming from the south, which I assume that emergency council meeting was about” the goddess summarized, disregarding the tone of the question, before saying “So I assume you have come to your dear old mother for advice?” not unkindly before requisition she “please, come, sit by the fire with me. But do keep your voice down, I only just got this little one to sleep”

“No, I came to ask why you iz still here, and where is the goddess who saved gobs and beasties from the desert? The voice said the gods was handling things, and yet youz still here!” the goblin replied, even as she obliged the request to keep quiet via whisper-shouting her accusation.

“I’ve learned to delegate, my dear. I can’t be everywhere, and for the world to be stable people need to be able to handle themselves instead of waiting for me to show up. I tried that back in the day, and believe me, it was an endless parade of putting out fires” she replied “You can handle these beasts, I know you can”

“Handlz them! One just smacked a goddess outa the sky! What are we gonna do bout summit that can do that!?” Lilly threw her hands up, unable to believe the Mother really thought they could do that.

“I… I’m sorry, could you repeat that?” the goddess replied slowly, looking genuinely shocked

“You… you don’t know?” Lilly replied, almost as shocked and yet, somehow, a little relieved.

“Darling dear, I’m not omniscient or all powerful. Or all that powerful at all at the moment” she explained and didn’t explain before asking “so could you tell me more about this… concerning news” to which her daughter obliged.

A few moments after she was done, the doors to their family home’s garage open, and a family six wheeled buggy came rolling out with the Mother at the helm and a soon to be road sick from her mother’s erratic driving Lilly in the passenger’s seat.

The Buggy rolled down the streets from the wealthy district towards the shore line, weaving around other buggies and more traditional bug drawn carts. Lining that shore where the north bank docks, bustling with activity as resources and food were shipped in, and worked goods from the artisans of the city were shipped out, all of it carried either on the backs of large boat beetles, on barges either pulled by dozens of smaller ones, or powered by buggy technology to spin multiple paddlewheels. On the far side of the river was another set of docks, sat to the second of three cities, but neither of those docks were going to be involved in the way the pair were going to cross the river.

Instead they took a turn, and swung onto the main road, one that led to the third city, and also a way across the waters.

In the center of the river sat an island, a craggy rocky thing that stood in the face of the river, splitting and widening it by its very presence, and in doing so, shallow and slowing the waters, forming not quite a lake, but something close enough to it. This width should have made it harder to cross, and indeed in the past it had, resulting in the island being used as a home for a community of goblins who, after being exiled from the land that had become Harrowfane, had tunneled into the rocky cliffs and turned it into a fortress from which to launch retaliatory raids back into the lands they had been created in.

Retaliatory strikes from the fowl-folk had eventually put an end to that, and the island had lain sparsely inhabited until it had been learned that the more calm waters made building in this part of the river safer. The extensive piers strutting out from both shores were the first use of this, but the two goblins were riding towards the newer and grander construction: the two sisters.

Built and constantly maintained by teams of aquatic beastfolk, the two sisters were a marvel of engineering. Hundreds of stone columns encased in biocrystal waterproofing rose up out of the water, all of them covered with circular carvings for strength, while the plank walkway they supported had the same symbology freshly painted on it every few months. In addition to this, numerous shrines to Tuuni had been erected all along their twin lengths, to which travelers offered thanks and tribute, further strengthening the bridges against the force of nature they straddled.

It was also the source of one of the world's first major pieces of congestion, as anyone and everyone who didn’t want to or couldn't afford to charter a beetle boat used it to travel between the three cities. As a result it took a while for them to get to the center island, which was now part military high command because of its central and defensible location, and part entertainment district because of its central location that sported a lot of foot traffic and off duty soldiers.

Lilly and her mother had no time for the peddlers of trinkets, snacks and the oldest profession attempting to get their attention however, and after passing through the central cavern and out the other side, where soon buzzing across the south bridge towards the poorer side of town.

On either side of them stretched more docks, these rather than exporting finished goods instead exported the cities actual primary resource: the bounty of the earth. Mining was the name of the game in the south, as the hills before them where pockmarked with goblin sized mining tunnels used to extract ores (including the now all important tin used to make the bronze backbone of their civilisation) and gems from their depths, or simply torn apart by beastfolk wildbloods who’s strength had been put to use quarrying out vast sums of stone for use in construction both in the city itself and beyond.

The hills on the north were pristine by comparison, because no one in their right minds dared risk disturbing the cave of painted memories. Desecration of a site holy to the goddess to whom they owed all was unthinkable after all.

What was mirrored on both the north and south sides however were the farms to the east, stretching out as far as the eye could see. They were the rowdy domain of the snouters, although the pig folk were only a plurality and not quite a majority. It was there they were heading as it turned out, though there was one stop they had to make apparently, and that was to the grand market situated just a street away from the river side ports.

“Lilly darling, do you have anything to barter for a shovel or two? I seem to have forgotten to bring anything but the cloths on my back, and the Pollies will need their feed if you want to get home” The Mother said to her daughter, who ended up having to trade an earring and a quick lesson on past life seeking meditation to a happy if bemused pangolin-dwarf while her mother doted on and hand fed their buggy’s bug motors.

The goddess did not dain to explain why they had purchased those shovels till they were both out digging a hole in the middle of a field, which was the point at which Lilly finally snapped “Mother! I’z had it up to here with dis! You goddess, why can’t just. Fix!” her goblin accent fully slipping back in as she did so.

“I don’t have my hat” the Mother explained without explaining, before saying “now please, less talk, more digging we’re almost- ah, there we are” only for her shovel to thunk against something solid. A few more scoops, and she had unveiled a crystalline substance Lilly had never seen before. What was even stranger was when the Goddess pressed a hand to it, and caused it to open up somehow, before she hopped inside with a call of “Take care my darling!” to her daughter.

Lilly was too shocked by her sudden disappearance to reply, and then when the ground started to collapse around the hole they had dug all she could do was run. As if a great object had been suddenly removed from beneath it, the dirt spilled into a great pit, and yet up from that pit burst a smaller mono wheeled buggy adorned with spikes and made of unknown metal and crystal.

It landed next to Lilly with a crash, revealing its rider, now far more wrinkled and grinning beneath her purple hat.

“Mother?” the goblin asked, but the goblin before her simply barked out a laugh and replied
“Hah, not on your life. That fool wanted to play mortal, so she locked our power away in this ol thing” she gave the witch’s hat a flick “and locked us both away again too. Well, now that she’s come crawling back and let us out of the cage so we can solve this little problem of hers, she can have a turn in time out instead of us”

“I… Little? Dat thing took on a goddess!” Lilly replied, both aghast at this dismissal of their fears, and also suddenly coming to the realization that the very same might happen to her mother.

“Oh yes, showed Life who’s boss it did. But so what? She makes things that she never wanted to end. Me? I Break things” she said, before revving her super cycle, and then blazing away from the scene, leaving Lilly to explain to a very angry snouter where half his field had gone.

The goddess herself was long gone before the snouter arrived, roaring southwards. First she rolled past the Tricity area’s borders, where the state’s troops: shield, mace and crossbow equipped goblins, billhook armed Snouters, and eclectically armed beasfolk, had seen off the first scouting beasts. No state in the riverland survived if it couldn’t overcome the military strategy of an all wildblood army, and the tactics vs those were rather adaptable towards fighting the larger monsters.

Once she was out of the lands, she found the first thing they would struggle with, as she ramped clean over a wave of refugees fleeing north. They came from all around the south of the lands of origin and represented all those who could not fly or swim with beasteal prowess, and were too destitute to own rivercraft or beetle boats, or who would be denied entry into the goblin city states. All of them were heading for the bridge Lilly and her Mother had just crossed, the only place where the waters that split the world in too could be crossed by all forms of mortal life.

Only then she encountered her first beast, one that was literally hounding the straggling refugees as if driving them towards the city was part of a greater plan. Before it even knew what had hit it, the Breaker did just that, her blade armed super cycle cleaving it clean in half. Cackling, the Breaker rode on, slicing through every beast she came across, or at least those on the ground. An army of beasts had been coming for Tricity, it seemed, and she rolled right through it as if its forces were air, before continuing on, weaving to and fro to further cut down the numbers the city would face as she headed for a date with the titan.




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Hidden 11 mos ago 11 mos ago Post by Frettzo
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The Unsung Guardians


I


Lareus sat, one leg on top of the other, on one of the ornate chairs at his favourite dream-scape. It was a field of vibrant grass, swaying to and fro to the rhythm of a gentle breeze. The God of Dreams closed his eyes.

“This is… the best dream in… my realm.” He said, taking in a deep breath of the lavender-scented air. Curious, considering there were no lavender flowers in the entire dreamscape.

“It is calm, like a freshly reincarnated soul…” Voi agreed, his raspy voice coming from the darkness beneath his hood. The two blue orbs that floated in the darkness dimmed. Voi reached for his cup of green tea with his bandaged hands and poured the liquid into where his mouth would normally be, only for the tea to go all the way through and splattered against the chair he sat on, spreading throughout his black robes. It didn’t bother him.

“So… are you ready to… go?” Lareus opened his eyes and exhaled loudly.

“I think so…”

With those words, the two of them stood up and the dreamscape around them shifted and shivered away into a familiar sight - That of an endless desert on one side and an endless ocean of blood on the other.

It was only through the use of the Dreamlands that Lareus and Voi managed to teleport where they did undetected, but it was a one-time use trick for now. Lareus knew that the Dreamlands would be overrun as soon as he stepped out of them, causing chaos and pain throughout the dreams of all mortals. He knew so, but he also knew that some things had to be prioritised.

The other gods were too busy, too self-absorbed to react quickly to the threat, so he had gotten in contact with his only friend and set out on a quest of his own.

Still, he winced.

“The ya-gos… the dream bubbles… I can feel it all coming apart… at the seams…”

“I will help you fix it all, once we emerge from this accursed lake…” Voi stared at Lareus for a moment, then he stretched one of his arms towards the side and a scythe made of smoke and raw arcana materialised. Lareus saw this and touched his index and middle fingers on both hands to his temples, causing his circlet to glow and melt and wrap itself around his fingers. Four rings, all made of Larite.

“It is an ocean… but so be it… in we go, friend…”

And so they walked into the Blood Ocean.

II


The Outer Beast, both Greater and Lesser, had no souls. Instead, they had what Voi had gotten to call ‘seeds’. They weren’t fully aware of their actions, not even at the level of a normal beast from within the Universe, but they still felt pain, they still felt the desire to reproduce… It was strange. What was stranger still was the fact that their ‘soul seeds’ were all in various states of growth. Some of them had even managed to awaken into true souls. Those kills were the ones that hurt Voi the most. To kill an innocent, if violent, creature from another world and doom its soul to an eternity within his weapon was a grave sin. One that he had decided to shoulder for the sake of all that he knew and had created along with his fellow gods, his family.

One step, one slash. Both near and far in that direction, a thousand soul seeds ripped apart and were sucked into Voi’s scythe like a whirlpool.

Visibility was zero. The Blood Ocean was so dense that after just two metres or so of descent, everything was already pitch black.

Another step, another slash.

Behind Voi was Lareus. As usual, his eyes were closed and his fingers were pressed hard against his temples. Lareus was the only reason they were getting swarmed by thousands instead of millions. His weapon was no weapon at all, instead it was a set of rings that augmented his godly abilities. The ability to force his way into the minds of any outer beast with even the slightest bit of soul growth and impose dream after dream on them was terrifying. To think that Lareus had such an oppressive power, and that he never used it against anyone before…

But that still left the freshly spawned beasts. Wide awake as they were and wired to hunt anything with a trace of divinity in their blood, they were bound to go straight toward the pair.

But a thousand were no match for Voi’s Scythe. A single slash was enough to rip apart a thousand souls and leave the beasts’ bodies in a vegetative state.

Step after step after step. The saturated mud below their feet squelched unnaturally as they approached the deepest part of the Blood Ocean, where the seabed had collapsed. Deep below, an unnatural glow emanated from the sprawling black pools from which the hordes of beasts spawned.

Just as they prepared to jump down into the abyss, the flow of the blood changed.

In a split second, the Blood Ocean was parted in two. Lareus screamed in the silence of the depths and shot forward into the darkness, a trail of glowing divine ichor left behind him.

Voi couldn’t see their attacker. He, a God, couldn’t see their attacker. He desperately looked around, something that he instinctively knew would do no good. His grip on the Scythe tightened. His shoulders tensed.

The flow changed again. He was too slow. The thing came from above.

Three long barbed claws came straight down onto his head and split his two blue eyes down the middle and left a large gash in his smoky form. He lost his footing and flailed. Out of the corner of his vision, he saw the millions of previously asleep beasts awaken and rush to the trail of Lareus’ ichor, devouring it like a swarm of piranhas.

As Voi’s back touched down on the mud, the thing that had attacked them appeared from the darkness and sat on his chest. It smiled at Voi, row upon row of sharp fangs in its mouth. It had no eyes or ears, for it did not need them down there.

That’s when Voi felt it, this beast’s soul wasn’t a seedling, nor was it merely awakened. It was something… More. Just how many of his brothers and sisters’ creations had it devoured to grow that much?!

Voi stirred. Now that he had a lock on the beast’s soul, he had no need for fear. He simply reached up and touched the thing, and it went still.

“You shouldn’t have revealed yourself, you were too proud…” Voi said. He sensed a large swarm a few metres away. Hundreds of thousands, killing each other and crowding around one divine presence, all for a chance to eat just one more drop of ichor. “Lareus…!”

Voi shot up onto his feet and swung his scythe wide in Lareus’ general direction. Shortly after, he felt the pulse of Lareus’ Artefact activating once more. It was weaker and the effect radius was smaller, but it was there. So Voi jumped forth and met up with Lareus, who floated in a small bubble of his own ichor, surrounded by the bodies of thousands of lesser beasts.

One of his arms, half his abdomen and an entire knee were gone, and the rest of his body was so badly damaged that Voi doubted he’d be able to move for the next thousand years. But, he was alive. Lareus looked at Voi.

“You look… Like you got a close look at a train’s wheels…” Lareus chuckled.

“What’s a train…?” Voi wrapped his arms around his friend and started to float down towards the pools at the bottom of the ocean, in the submerged caverns.

“I don’t know… I saw it in a goblin’s… dreams…” After some moments, when they were close enough to sense the peculiarities within the black pools, Lareus spoke again. “It’s not quite the… same as the way into the Dreamlands… but I should be able to… shut it down…”

Voi nodded.

III


The two gods stood at the edge of one of the pools. Voi had set Lareus down so that he could reach into the pool and get to work on shutting down the portal, and was now on extermination duty. Every few moments, the God of Souls swung his scythe and reaped the souls of whatever unfortunate Cantar individual remained within the caverns. He sensed no corruption within the unfortunate few left alive after the portal had appeared, but risks could not be taken, not now and after so much sacrifice.

Both gods bled still. Hordes of beasts swarmed them still. The only thing that kept them safe was Voi’s Scythe.

As soon as he was done shutting down the portal, they could both make a quick getawa-

CRASH.

Lareus’ thoughts derailed. The outcrop of ceiling above them collapsed and behind that collapse was a form that moved faster than either of the gods’ eyesight could follow. Was it the same as before?! Lareus’s head, the only part of his body that he could still control satisfactorily, shot around trying to get a good look at their attacker. It was only a split second later that he felt a chill wash over his body. No, it was a god!

A blackened form moved so fast that it was like it had teleported into their field of vision. It stood there in front of them long enough for them to get a glance. Its claws dripped with energies not unlike those of the portal they were trying to shut down, its maddened eyes lusted for blood and violence, its shape was familiar, but distorted at the same time. It could’ve been one of the Outer Beasts, if not for the divine essence that practically dripped from it.

It charged. Its digitigrade feet kicked up all the silt in the cave as it did, enveloping both itself and Voi in the thick cloud.

“VOI!” Lareus screamed. The muted whoosh of Voi’s scythe cutting through blood echoed off the walls. Once, twice. Then there was a crash and a rumble. Ichor flowed into the blood ocean once more.

The unknown god came out of the silt cloud and crashed into Lareus. “GAH!” He gasped as the thing’s claws pierced through his torso. Half a second later, Lareus found himself half-buried in the stone walls of the cave. His vision clouded, but a good look at his attackers’ face up close told him all he needed to know. That unnatural grin, the unfocused and bloodshot eyes, the very aura of Violence spreading out around its body… Misri. They’d never met, but he’d seen her in the nightmares of mortals.

“It’s Misri! Don’t worry about me, Voi!” Lareus screamed as loud as he could. Caverns in the distance collapsed.

It was quick. One moment it seemed like Misri had been about to tear his throat out, and the next Misri was gone and a slash of Voi’s scythe cut Lareus in two.

Standing where they’d been a few moments ago was Voi, his ragged cloak drenched with ichor and split eyes dimming.

As Lareus dislodged from the wall and started floating down towards the dark pool below him, he saw with his blurry vision how Misri flanked Voi and thrust her claws into his head. A bright flash enveloped the blood ocean when her claws shattered his already damaged crystal-ball like eyes, and then Voi’s gaseous body floated up to the cave ceiling.

“V-Voi…” Lareus stuttered and coughed. Ichor came up. Ichor flowed from his torso and his arm and his missing lower half. There was no saving himself. He knew that now.

And yet luck was on his side. Sensing the death of a God, the hordes of outer beasts above swarmed Voi’s body and, by extension, Misri. It was the opportunity that Lareus needed, and he took it.

Thankfully, even though it was no longer within his body, his Ichor was still a part of him. When it flowed into the dark pool that was the portal, the whole thing bubbled violently and started to evaporate, much like Lareus’ Ichor. Before all his Ichor was gone, Lareus gathered his strength and lifted his one good hand to his brow, The rings on his fingers lit up. He would put Misri to sleep for the rest of time!

But he was too late. Misri burst from out of the swarm and with a single slash of her claws, Lareus had no hand. What followed was a blur. Claws came down upon him again and again and again. They gouged his flesh and sliced his bones.

One last thought crossed Lareus’ mind before darkness took him. ‘We did it… Voi, we saved the world…’ And then he passed amid the fading sounds of beast on beast carnage.

Eventually there was no noise in the cavern other than brutal howls of victory. Misri’s dominance over god and beast had been asserted.

IV


The cavern system where the Sparkfall Hivemind had once lived was now silent. There was no portal to the outer realms. There was no life, no energy. There were only bodies, ichor, and blood.

The last pool that made up the portal was now evaporating. It was so small that no beast could hope to come through, but even though that was the case, a force forced it to stay open for just a few seconds more. A cloud of smoke spread far enough to find what it was looking for – The bodies of the two fallen Gods. The smoke engulfed the bodies and chopped them to pieces and then extracted what they wanted – An incorporeal thing, the thing that the Khodex had uplifted and turned into a God. A thing that used to be insignificant, but through eons of honing and refinement had become special. The smoke shivered as the two bright specks of light were swallowed deep into it, and then as quickly as it came, the smoke retreated back into the portal, and then the portal was gone.

Only the two mangled bodies of the dead gods remained behind.


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Good Deeds Rewarded


I


”I reside at Table Mountain, and my name is Truthful James;
I am not up to small deceit, or any sinful games.”
- Francis Brett Harte, Plain Language from Truthful James


Somewhere in the desolate wastes south of the World River, half-buried in the sands that had been trampled and stained a thousand times over by the hordes of lesser outer beasts, stood a single large Monolith. It was a large cylinder made of a smooth and grey material, covered in an uncountable number of glyphs and bas-reliefs depicting events that had never happened.

Rising out of the bloodied and blackened sands was a long staircase that led towards what one would assume to be the Monolith’s vertical centre, where a circular divot had been left on the grand monolith as if a gigantic hoof had stepped on it.

At the foot of the stairs was a rotting wooden spear. It was stuck into the sand as if it had been thrown there months ago, and hanging from its split handle was a small, pale leather bag. It jingled in the sandy winds of the wastes.

In the distance, a traveller; by appearance, nothing more than a desert nomad, a lanky beastfolk swaddled in thick cloth to keep the heat and the sand away. The merciless sun beat down on them, though their steps were steady and unperturbed. In their eyes, a cold and certain fire, their hunch nothing more than a play for any who might look upon them. Though one hand gripped their robes, as though a response to the winds, there was no tremble in them.

The traveller stopped at the obelisk, and scanned it, their eyes gleaming. Disinterest passed over them next, and they looked down at the base of the stairs, and the spear therein. Their mouth opened, and they breathed deep of the dry air, and then the act was dropped. The hunch left them, their footing became suddenly sure, and their hands went to their side. The bag was claimed from the spear, and though the back was not opened, the traveller Perceived what was inside.

The traveller ran their free hand across the reliefs as they muttered to the air, their voice pointed as though they expected an audience, “You must think me a fool,” it paused, one hand tearing a chunk out of the obelisk’s stonework with frightening ease, “it is no matter. You will get a soul, of that I have no doubt; but it will not be mine.”

The traveller looked down at the stonework clutched in their hand. They slung it casually into the obelisk, the rock cracking in a thousand different places from the force. There was a loud crack that rang across the sands, and the obelisk first listed, then collapsed. The shockwave threw sand into the air, and as it came down, the pieces were buried. The traveller had memorised the reliefs; nothing, in its view, had truly been lost.

The traveller reached into the pouch, and emerged with a pinch of glowing powder. They sprinkled it into the wind, and the world rent asunder, into a gaping wound into a dark wood sized just large enough to traverse. The traveller walked through, and the wound silently collapsed. Nothing but the sun, the sand, and the never ending wind remained on that blood-soaked battlefield.

A monster of shadow awaited the traveller there, all dripping fangs and bristling claws; a great colossal silhouette in the dark, two white eyes peering in the glades uncovered by moonlight. Hunger sparked in those eyes, and it launched itself forwards. The traveller did not react, not even to look in its direction, and when it reached the traveller, it shrunk back in sudden pain.

It screamed in agony, deep and guttural, as its flesh sloughed away into dust. The monster staggered away, each moment less and less of it there. It didn’t hit the floor; it flew on the breeze. The traveller began to walk, inspecting the woods and the bubbles that interrupted it. Sometimes the beasts in the wood would intersect with these bubbles. Sometimes those within the bubbles died, both within and without.

The traveller stepped into the air, every step bringing them further above the trees and into the lightless sky above. The wood faded into the far distance; less from a lack of physical proximity than from passing a threshold. Once they were high enough, from the pouch they drew a vial of glowing powder, the same that had been used to enter the realm.

As they uncapped the cork once more, behind them appeared a vast mass, shifting, growing, and shrinking oddly with every movement; sometimes parts seemingly detached, only to act as though they were still part of the whole. A creature of sixteen dimensions viewed through the lens of only three. Mathematics swirled about its bulk, making the eyes itch. The traveller did not look back, nor did they seem affected by the great monster behind it.

For they were the monster, and for their misdeeds they had been greatly rewarded. This was no regular nightmare, to haunt the malleable minds of mortals; it was a blight upon the world and the gods themselves, a traitor and a snake in the midst. The Eidolon’s true body, granted an ever-more secure home away from the machinations of its peers. The traveller slung the vial in a wide arc, letting dust spread across the air. The main body breathed life into the dust, and brought it closer to coalescing.

The traveller faded away, their duty completed. The dust merged into a single point, and then expanded violently into a blazing, cold light that enveloped the monstrous body. Far below, in a mystical sense, the light dimly reached the trees of the wood. Nightmares screamed as the light banished them, though others remained under the trees in the dimmest sections. The realm silently adjusted to its new master.






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Hidden 10 mos ago 10 mos ago Post by Dezuel
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Reverion


'Something is stirring. It is as if a wall has been penetrated...' The black-winged god thought to himself, then Bloodbeak would storm into the scene.

"My lord! Your faithful servant wishes to report that there is trouble! The mistress has sent out warnings to us, I have ordered your faithful followers underground!" Bloodbeak exclaimed in a satisfied manner.

"Good. Whatever this disturbance is, while I am not here, you will be in charge of overseeing Harrowfane. I will leave and find the cause of this disturbance and unroot it." Reverion explained to Bloodbeak.

"As you wish my lord!" Bloodbeak bowed deep enough that his beak touched the floor.

"One more thing, Bloodbeak. I need you to establish yet another site of worship within Harrowfane. Closer to the water, yet underground. And I need you to deliver these two things to Cawcax." Reverion used his divine power to form two artifacts, one in each hand. One was a ring the other was a dagger.

"B-but m-my lord! Your allmighty greatness and wisest of all gods! What are these things and why should that ungrateful fake-beak Cawcax be given them?" Bloodbeak said in a concerned manner.

"It is a ring which makes it's wielder into an undead for as long as it is worn. It will prevent him from death if he so desires, yet he is prideful. He would never accept the blessing from me in person. This way he may feel... unbound." Reverion explained calmly.

"My lord! Pardon me, but why are you gifting that good-for-nothing rulebreaker?" Bloodbeak asked.

"It takes strength to oppose a god, in his very temple surrounded by many others. Defiance against what is out there, I see parts of myself in that. For whatever may be out there and created us must be strong. I will never bend the knee and throw away my principles. Remember my words well, Bloodbeak. And find admiration in those which distinguish themselves, for only together can a chain of links be strong to bind things." The god continued and then handed his follower the two artifacts.

"I.. yes milord! But what is this wespon?" The elder fowlfolk vampire asked.

"It's a weapon for unmaking. It is like a single tooth in a jaw, but it will work on other mortals. If a mortal ever poses a threat to him, he may use it in defense." The undead god smiled softly. This dagger would be a precursor to something greater, something which he would wield himself, but perhaps it's destined talons would in the end fall into the hands of a mortal.

"Understood my lord!" Bloodbeak squeeked.

"I will now go and deal with this disturbance, and if necessary, I will undo it." The god reached with his hand into his own chest and took out one of his ribs, he allowed his divine energies to surround it as it began to take it's shape.

"Behold the unmaker!" The god held out what could only be described as a swordspear.

Bloodbeak's eyes shimmered.

"It is magnificent milord! It truly reminds me of you! Then again it was made from you... I mean no disrespect milord!" He added and bowed many times quickly.

"Get your fellow kin underground in an orderly fashion and tell them to brace for any possible attacks upon Harrowfane." The dark god hurled himself up into the air, his newly made weapon in hand, his sight towards the great tree and beyond.

Whatever had decided to cause a disorderly ruckus would have to be subdued. He suspected El'Zadir may have already moved towards it, and Anatu, the goddess he had met after her may also be there. Albeit at a distance. He knew that he had to be on the offense this time around, but it was for the sake of defense.




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Hidden 10 mos ago Post by Frettzo
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Hell in Heaven - Turn 4


Turn 4 has started, please check the MP Spreadsheet for your updated MP counts. Please let me know if any number is off and I'll fix it when I can.

The Transcendental Quest is still ongoing, and its state is as follows: The entryway the Outer beasts were using to enter the material realm has been sealed thanks to the sacrifices of Voi and Lareus, but the two Greater Outer Beasts as well as the Lesser Beast hordes remain, as do the many settlements that have begun to be created around the Blood Ocean. The Dream Realm has been taken over by The Eidolon as part of their deal with the Outer God called the Presence, an action which has indirectly saved the lives of many dreamers who would’ve had their dreams invaded by outer entities otherwise. The Astral Realm is under siege by hordes of Outer Entities, with Luminaries giving their all to hold wave after wave of invaders back.

With the entryway to the material realm gone, the finish line is in sight. Glory be to the heroic gods of Galbar! First cohort to actually earn their station!
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The dark sky rumbled on that black night. A sweltering, suffocating air that hovered in one place. Lightning flashed, illuminating the world for a few precious moments at a time. It was not yet raining but the air smelt of it. The storm would simply swallow up the stars and navigation would have to wait.

At least for those on the ground.

So it was that a group of beastfolk were fleeing north. Away from the great calamity of their time. Yet even those with the keenest of night vision could hardly see once the storm caught up with them. Children whined, cooed by parents to be quiet. Others whispered, talking of the end times. That the Gods had abandoned them. That the fates had been cruel indeed to leave them so alone.

They huddled down next to an outcropping of rock, sheltered on one side from the rain that poured down in great thick droplets. The elders recounted a time when the rain was that of blood and spoke cryptically of those who still dwelt in those forsaken lands. The children, after some time, were able to sleep, nestled close to parents and warm bodies. Even some of the reptilian folk were allowed to pile up next to those mammals that allowed it. For one of the few tenets of that band was to look out for one another. No one would be left out, no one would be forgotten.

Because of that, they were far behind those that had left with quicker feet and hurried wings. Perhaps it was a shared sense of duty, a beastfolk sense of pride and the inner flame that commanded them all. Hope would keep them going, it had too. So they endured and they would go on despite it all.

So it came as little surprise when the sentries raised the alarm and an orderly panic overcame them. A raiding party had come after them. Otherworldly beings who sought only to kill and glut themselves. Daggers of stone and copper unsheathed in the night as the warriors hurried everyone along.

The night air began to unleash a drizzle of cold rain as the lightning flashed. Then came a scream but not from behind. Thick bowed bovine and lion men ran for the front only to find certain doom awaiting them.

They had never seen a creature like it but they knew it all too well. The legends had gone far and wide. Lightning illuminated its wild eyes, a mouth of sharp teeth, a few missing, while its elongated body ran with a silver streak along its back. A mongoose of living legend. He stood in the path, blocking their advance. Children cowered, women and men shielded them as the Maw watched with careful eyes.

Elders came forth but before any could speak the Maw proclaimed, “You… Hunted… All sides but… Mine.” He padded a few steps closer. “Go… Run… I will… Buy time for… Small kin.”

Thunder rumbled overhead as the rain continued pouring down. No one moved, they did not understand. Then the Maw snapped forth his teeth and growled low, “GO!” he said, and jumped over the first few to where the sounds of battle rushed forth.

On that night of flashing lights, a new legend was born, not of a killer who took the chance to prey upon those already being preyed upon- but of one who cast aside all differences to protect. The Maw Who Slew in Salvation, perhaps not entirely redeemed but for one fleeting moment in such a long life, did something that any could deem as good.

So that beastfolk clan lived to survive another day and the Maw, without having even been asked why or thanked, was not heard from again by those people. Perhaps it was better that way.


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Hidden 10 mos ago 10 mos ago Post by Vec
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In the ethereal expanse where the Astral and Material Realms converge, there existed a Luminary of unparalleled grace – an astral entity shaped like a rhino, but one that bore the resplendence of sunfire. It roamed the celestial pathways, a guardian of its corner of the cosmos. Though nothing but a relatively medium sized star back in the Material Realm, the form of its astral consciousness wore a hide shimmering like a sun-drenched ocean; with eyes that held the depth of galaxies, it was the first to witness the anomaly. Deep in the Astral Realm, a stick of light, thin as a reed but radiant as a star, emerged, piercing the fabric of existence. This stick of light, unknown and unheralded, was a harbinger of chaos yet unseen.

The Luminary approached the phenomenon with a blend of curiosity and caution. Its massive form, usually so imposing, seemed to tread lightly, as if aware of the delicate balance it was about to disrupt. As it neared the stick of light, the air around it shimmered with an unnatural frequency, and a sense of foreboding washed over the astral guardian. Suddenly and without warning, the stick started vibrating, sending out waves that the Luminary discovered to be disrupting space - a split second later, the cosmos ruptured. From the fissures around the stick of light, a horde of outer beings, akin to a swarm of locusts, burst forth. These creatures, neither fully astral nor material, were like shadows given form – insatiable, relentless, and utterly destructive. They descended upon the Luminary in a frenzied storm, overwhelming it with their sheer number and ferocity. The Luminary, though mighty in its power, was nevertheless taken by surprise, with the relentless onslaught of the horde being unlike anything it had ever encountered before.

It fought valiantly, its astral horn goring through the shadowy masses and, occasionally, firing rays of searing light that pierced through the dark tide, leaving disintegrating ashes in their wake. All the while, Its sunfire hide torched those that came too close, protecting it in the process. But it was like trying to hold back a flood with a single hand. The outer beings were relentless, relying on quantity over quality as they tore away at the Luminary’s form, shredding its astral essence piece by piece. Very quickly, the battered, screaming and fragmented consciousness of the Luminary was dragged through the portals created by the stick of light, pulling it out of the universe it had sworn to protect.

From afar, other Luminaries watched in horror. They had sensed the disturbance, but none could have foreseen the ferocity and speed of the attack. These celestial guardians, each a master of their domain, now faced an enemy that defied their understanding. With urgency born of desperation, they united, forming a coalition unlike any before. Luminaries of all shapes and forms – Lyrissa, a leopard whose starry spots flickered with ancient wisdom; Cygnor, a celestial hawk with wings spanning the width of nebulae; and Serpegor, a serpent that slithered through the voids of space – came together. Their collective light, usually a beacon of hope and guidance, now shone as a warning signal.

They clashed with the invading hordes, their astral powers crashing against the dark tide. Through this maelstrom of light and shadow, each Luminary rose as a beacon of resistance against the encroaching darkness. Lyrissa, agile and fierce, leapt into the heart of the fray, using her claws, imbued with the essence of starlight, to slice through whole platoons of dark entities. "We must hold them back!" she roared, her voice a rallying cry amidst the chaos. Cygnor, soaring above, dived through the swarms with a majestic grace; each beat of his cosmic wings harnessed the surrounding Lumen to send out ripples across the battlefield, disintegrating outer beings by the masses. "They are endless," he called out, his keen eyes surveying the onslaught. "We need a strategy, or we shall be overwhelmed!"

Serpegor, weaving between the astral currents, struck with precision. His ethereal fangs sank into the very essence of the invaders, sapping their strength and life-force. "Our might alone is not enough," he hissed, his voice resonating with an ancient power. "We mussst reach beyond ourssselvesss…”

As they fought, their emotions ebbed and flowed like the tides of the universe. Anger at the violation of their realms, fear for the fate of all they protected, and a deep-seated determination to stand against this strange and unknown foe. Yet, beneath it all, there was a growing sense of desperation – with each passing moment, the Luminaries found themselves pushed back, their efforts seeming more like a delay of the inevitable rather than a path to victory. The outer beings were not just numerous; they were unyielding, a tide of darkness that sought to engulf everything in its path.

Amidst the tumult of battle, a silent communion unfolded between the three Luminaries, their minds intertwining across the astral expanse. Lyrissa, her spirit a beacon of resilience even as her form battled tirelessly, reached out with a thought tinged with urgency. "I agree, our valor alone cannot hold back this relentless tide. We must beseech Him. It is only through the creator's intervention that this assault may be quelled." Cygnor, gliding through the cosmic maelstrom, his essence dimming with each exertion, resonated with her sentiment in the shared mental space. "Our entreaty must be both immediate and unequivocal. The very fabric of the cosmos is fraying, and without divine intervention, we edge ever closer to oblivion." Serpegor, his serpentine form weaving through the chaos, his scales less luminous yet still defiant, added his voice to their collective plea. "Our call must resonate as one, a singular cry for deliverance. In His wisdom lies our sole refuge from this engulfing darkness."

United in their resolve, the three Luminaries focused their energies, sending a plea across the astral plane. Their message, borne of desperation and hope, traversed the cosmos, seeking the attention of the very deity whose hands had sculpted their home. As they awaited a response, the Luminaries steeled themselves, ready to defend their own realms to the last, against the encroaching darkness that threatened to consume all.

"To Ull'yang, creator and custodian, we send our plea," they roared, their voices echoing through the cosmos. "The fringes of our universe are torn, and we falter against this unknown foe. Grant us your wisdom, your strength, or we shall be no more."
Somewhere in the Material Realm, there stood a castle atop a nondescript volcano. One particular spire, overlooking the mouth of said volcano, housed two individuals currently engaged in a strategic staring contest. Of relatively short stature and bipedal in nature, with spherical torsos made of rock, these beings sat on a table facing each other. On the table in-front of them, a grid-like stone board laid, with various pieces akin to mini sculptures placed in seemingly random positions on the grid. The two used their stubby fingers to move said pieces around with thoughtful precision and surprising dexterity. The game - should it be called one - they played involved the tactical movement of various uniquely powered pieces across the board, each move a silent battle of wits and foresight. The aim was to corner the primary piece of the opponent, rendering it unable to escape without being captured.

Amidst their game, the beings conversed in deep, philosophical tones. One argued fervently for autocratic rule, a singular, unchallenged authority to guide and decide. "In the hands of one, decisions are swift and absolute," it proclaimed, moving a piece forward with a clack. The other being, advocating for egalitarianism, countered with a serene voice, "True strength lies in the many. A ruler must listen, and power must be shared for a kingdom to truly thrive." It advanced its piece, setting a subtle trap.

As the game progressed, the egalitarian being skillfully maneuvered its pieces, eventually declaring a decisive victory. It opened its mouth, perhaps to jest about its triumph, but suddenly its expression shifted. Its eyes glazed over, staring into a distance unseen, its body going rigid with a sense of profound realization. The autocratic being, initially irked by another loss, began a dismissive retort, but it stopped short, noticing its companion's distant gaze. It waved its arms frantically, trying to snap the winner out of the trance. "What now? You've won, no need for dramatics," it grumbled.

Abruptly returning to the moment, the winner stood, its demeanor solemn. "My apologies, I must attend to something of great urgency," it said, its voice carrying a weight that belied its small form. It walked away, leaving the room, and as the door closed behind it, the being vanished from the hallway, as if it had never been.

Meanwhile, in the Astral Realm, the scene was one of chaos and desperation. Suddenly, the being made of rock materialized amidst the turmoil. It stood still for a moment, an aura of contained power surrounding it. Then, with a burst of divine energy, the rocky exterior shattered, revealing the immense and awe-inspiring form of Ull'yang. Surveying the battlefield with a divine gaze, the deity quickly assessed the situation, recognizing three main important points: The erratic stick of light, ripping through reality; the, worrying, absence of the Luminaries that had collectively informed him of the events that were transpiring; and the sheer number of invaders that had managed to claw their way into his realm, challenging his, evidently unfounded, belief that the Astral Realm would be of lesser interest to a potential invading force.

Without hesitation, Ull'yang sprang into action. Raising a hand, he harnessed the power of Lumen from his surroundings and, enhanced by his own divine essence, created imprisoning bubbles around each portal and tear in reality. The invading armies, emerging from these portals, found themselves trapped, crashing against the unyielding barriers. Wasting no time, the deity then swiftly teleported next to the stick of light. Erratically as it had been moving, it was beyond the capacity and reach of a Luminary. Ull'yang, however, faced no such issues; the deity brought both his hands around it, clasping it firmly in between, his divine power conjuring ropes to bind the bizarre object. “What do we have here…” he mused, bringing the struggling stick of light closer in order to take a look.

An action that soon proved to have been quite the mistake, as a rip in space appeared right in front of the deity’s ethereal visage. Immediately a chilling sensation like no other suffused Ull’yang’s whole being, a feeling of utter dread and despair unlike anything he had ever felt. “What… is… this?” He thought, perplexed and somewhat caught by surprise at the sudden surge of emotions. In fact, he had been so absorbed, once again, that he’d failed to notice the subtle flecks of divine power breaking off from his form and being sucked straight into the portal. By the time he’d snapped out of it, numerous small black holes had been torn open across the length of both his arms. More akin to gaps than wounds, neither divine ichor flowed from the holes, nor flesh showed through.

Ull’yang quickly teleported backwards, away from the portal and, with a flash of his eyes, willed another bubble around the new addition. “Ugh, things are moving quite quickly. Surprising that my power failed to stop a new one from popping up…” Despite its unknown and, seemingly, powerful origin, Ull'yang found himself wanting to experiment with the bound stick of light. However, he would not exactly be able to do so with it creating portals to who knows where without any warning. So, in the end - and much to his displeasure - decided to use brute force. “Hmm… if you won’t cooperate willingly, maybe you will after a few… modifications.”

The deity clutched the bound object within his hands more tightly, eventually covering it completely. And then he went a step further and pushed with all his might, pushed until an audible crack was heard. His hands, akin to celestial grindstones, crushed the stick, its power merging with the divine essence in its bonds, taming it.

Ull’yang put more bubbles around the stick itself, protecting his hands from any potential new portals, inadvertently causing the essence in those barrier bubbles to also leak into the crushed object. No further vibrating sensation coming from between his hands was the sign Ull’yang sought, and very soon after the cracking sound had reverberated outwards, he got what he wanted.

“Oof, there we go,” the deity sighed. “Half the work is done. Now to get rid of these peeping holes…” Ull’yang thought, turning his attention towards all the bubbled-up portals brimming with outer beasts. It was the first time his realm had invaders barging in, however he witnessed their destructiveness first-hand - and his creations had probably felt it too, even more intimately. “How about you atone for your deeds, little spark?” He mused at his - still clasped together - hands.

Slowly, the deity made a small opening, right where his thumbs joined together, took a huge breath in - an action that sucked in an enormous amount of Lumen - and then blew right into the small opening, releasing all the Lumen he’d inhaled back out. In the moment between exiting Ull’yang’s mouth and entering the opening between his thumbs, the exhaled Lumen-divine essence mix immediately lit up the surrounding Astral Realm in white, hot radiance, akin to a solar flare given liquid form and jettisoned right out of a geothermal vent.

“Whew, that was something alright. You better turn out as I hoped…”

Just as he thought that, he opened his hands and a small, rectangular object emerged from within, spinning around slowly but seemingly in a deliberate manner. Sometimes it spun faster, sometimes slower, and sometimes it reversed its rotation.

Ull’yang watched it spin around for a few moments - almost as if it was trying to get the hang of moving in this manner, something which it very quickly succeeded in - and then followed it with his gaze as it whizzed towards the various bubbled up portals. Upon reaching one such portal, the object stopped and started spinning on its axis, a new type of spin. Ull’yang moved closer and waited for a few seconds, yet nothing happened, apart from the object spinning, of course. “Hmm…”

With a wave of his hand, the Lumen within the bubble imploded, immediately crunching up every outer beast inside into gorey paste. Upon this happening, something clicked within the object; detecting the absence of nuisances, the object moved closer to the bubble, touched it and was immediately sucked into it.

As if having finally found its purpose, the object moved in a straight line towards the rip in the fabric of the Astral Realm, coming to a stop right in front of it. The object had neither thoughts nor emotions, nothing but the singular purpose of mending. Fixing that which had been broken, patching up that which had been torn. Returning something, in this case the Astral boundary, back to its original form.

Eight small appendages emerged from the perimeter of the object, four from its corners and another four from the centers of its sides. Atop said appendages, and depending on which appendage it was, were located specific tools. For the ones sprouting from the corners of the object: a thin, fine needle - made from sheer divine essence given form - capable of omnidirectional movement as well as piercing through the astral barrier.

As for the appendages emerging from the sides of the object: small pincers, equally capable of omnidirectional movement, and sporting a spout right in the middle. Said spout had the, much needed, ability to expel strands of light capable of withholding the fabric of the Astral Realm together - Ull’yang had turned that very same power, previously ripping holes in the Astral, into a tool through which said holes would be mended back together.

Moving methodically, he eradicated the outer beings trapped in the bubbles, then waited for the object to do its job, weaving reality back into place and closing the portals one by one. As he approached the final portal, however, the chilling sensation from before washed over him once again. There, on the other side, was a giant, bloodshot, golden eye, staring straight at Ull'yang, freezing him and the rectangle in place momentarily.

A decidedly feminine voice whispered from beyond the portal, its tone laced with cryptic intent. "Congratulations on solving your little problem," it cooed, the voice echoing in the vastness of the Astral Realm. "And thank you for the gift of divine essence. It was... most nourishing."

Ull'yang, taken aback, focused intently on the eye. "Who are you?" he demanded after a while, his voice resonating with the authority of a deity, yet laced with a hint of curiosity.

The voice chuckled softly, a sound that seemed to reverberate through the fabric of reality. "We are many, and yet, we are one. You have managed to close these gateways, but do not fool yourself into complacency, starry one. There will be more incursions. You would do well to fortify your realm for the next time."

The eye then slowly closed, its golden hue dimming into the darkness, and the presence of the stranger faded away as the portal closed on its own, leaving no trace of the encounter, just an echoing silence in the Astral Realm.

Ull'yang floated there for a moment, contemplating the cryptic message and the fleeting presence of the outsider. He realized the gravity of the situation; the invasion was not just a random occurrence but a prelude to something far greater. He knew he needed to prepare, to strengthen his realm against future threats. The rectangle floated along with him as well. Now having lost its final target, it moved its little appendages around randomly in a futile attempt to close a portal that didn’t exist anymore.

The deity could do nothing but chuckle at his little creation, before willing it to shut down, then storing it away. With the immediate danger averted and the portals sealed, Ull'yang's form began to fade, his task in the Astral Realm completed for now. As he disappeared, his thoughts lingered on the mysterious warning, the implications of which would require careful consideration.

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Hidden 10 mos ago 10 mos ago Post by Timemaster
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Timemaster Ashevelendar

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How To Kill A God

Hero Chronicles & The Cycle of Asheel

The God Killers

Collab between @Dracolunaris & @Timemaster


The moment Galaxor left Sylia with the Cosmic Devastator, he teleported to the Goblin Underground where he spent the following days guiding Maxima’s goblins in the defence of their underground bunker. Without his presence there, thousand goblins would’ve died when another divine being created a massive earthquake, destroying tunnels and houses. Luckly, Galaxor managed to save all the goblins before their untimely and unheroic death.

Meanwhile on the other side of the world, Luna was gathering herself an army. Killing anything standing in her path and consuming them, Luna grew into a powerful leader. A white monster devouring any who stood in her path. Her pack numbered 50 and they were all outcasts, killers one and all. Blood Frenzied Wolves. The Death Pack. The White Devils. They had many names. The monsters of the Outer Gods didn’t seem to bother them…too much. It was easy to hide in the desert.

Later on, in the Goblin Underground, the monsters came. Hundreds of them. Not from the surface as one would’ve expected but from within. Hundreds of tunnels opened up with the earthquake and for any kind of monster, it was easy to break through. Sadly…for them, the Cosmic Devastator made short work of them and those that Galaxor didn’t reach in time, Maxima and Rajesh proved their mettle in battle. Both sporting new scars over their bodies. Still…property damage was done. The tablets of the library were damaged and with them, the knowledge of what was written.

Eventually, Galaxor had enough. He deemed the Goblin Underground safe enough and teleported above the Tree of Life…only to see Allianthe being defeated mercilessly in battle but before he could swoop in and save the day, like he planned. He felt a familiar divine presence. The essence of someone he liked.

Across the desert she rode, witch’s hat now atop head once more. Rather than a broom however, the goblin goddess rode atop a machine of death. Two half circle wheels tore up the sands, while in between them unknowable machinery caused blades to slice and dice anything before them, while the goddess herself rode behind, goggles keeping the sand and outer beast viscera out of her eyes.

There was certainly plenty of the latter flying, for after softening up the army swarming towards her Mother aspect’s home of Tricity, the Breaker of Cycles was now blazing straight towards the great beast that had laid Allianthe low.

With a wave, Galaxor teleported a bit to the side of Asheel and bowed towards her. “Greetings Asheel! It is a mighty pleasure meeting you upon the battlefield. Might I say that you’re looking different than before? Wiser. Better looking. Truly, a sight to behold. ” said Galaxor. His voice would be different than Asheel would remember, gone was the obvious bravado, the pointless over-the-topness. This was a calm Galaxor. A knowledgeable one.

After a few seconds of pause, in which Galaxor pointed towards Egrioth with the Cosmic Destroyer, he started speaking again “I assume you’re here for the same thing. To banish or kill that divine. I’ve got the perfect weapon to do so, if you wish to help. ” as he talked, Galaxor showed the Cosmic Destroyer to Asheel. The sheer power of it and deadliness to divines was obvious.

The goddess eyed the god’s weapon with a mix of trepidation and envy before grinning and replying “Oh, so you have a thing for blood soaked older women do you, enough that it has you showing off your mighty hammer?” in a tone that was a mix of sultry and mocking, only for the Maiden to flip out, figuratively, litrily, and divinely as she took over to complain “uuuurgh not you too! I had to blank out the last forever because of this kinda yucky stuff!”

The mother briefly took control to start to request that “Could we stay on task here please?“ only to be banished by the Breaker who responded both to her younger aspects with an exasperated “Yes, yes, fine” and then to Galaxor himself with a matter of fact “We’re here to end a cycle so that many more can continue, yes”

Galaxor laughed politely at the Breaker’s jest even as he realised it wasn’t fully one. “Old, young, age is…how would you say it…just the marking of a cycle. Beginning, middle or just the end of it. I apologise, Maiden, for last time. You could say I learned a thing or two since then. Anyways, back to the matter at hand. It does seem that this divine wishes to end all the cycles there are and he doesn’t look so keen on rebirth either. Such bad manners. Not even a hello to his fellow divines before trying to destroy their creations. ” said Galaxor with a smile before turning to Egrioth.

Can your machine end cycles too? I can take the divine alone now that he’s slowed down so much but his army too? I’ve killed divines like him before, this won’t be an easy fight. ” added Galaxor in a serious tone.

“Not as well as that hammer of yours can,” the Breaker admitted before adding that “you’ll have to tell me where it comes from later dear.” Now was not, of course, time for talk, and indeed, the time they had spent on had allowed the vanguard mentioned army to start closing in.

“It can break those things just fine however, so how about we do it this way” she said, before reaching down, pulling a lever, and causing the rear section of her mono-wheeled bike to pop out a second seat right behind the first. She jabbed a thumb over her shoulder at the new passenger seat and told him ”You ride with me ‘Gaxi’ and I’ll beak us through their ranks, while you focus on dealing with ol never in date mode of transport over there”

We both know that my hammer can do much more than that. ” quickly said Galaxor with a wink before looking at the passenger seat and chuckling.

We are divines, you know that right? We could just teleport right next to the guy. It’s more problematic if I’ve got to fight him and his army at the same time but, alright, I’ll hop on. Might as well enjoy the adventure. ” added Galaxor before laughing so loudly that a good part of the army was now looking towards the two divines.

“We’ll have to fight both anyway, this way we can thin the herd a bit on the way in” she pointed, before revving the divine motorbike’s engine and calling out for him to “now get ready to put some divine amounts of momentum into those hammer blows dearie!” before releasing the brakes and sending them shooting forwards at impossible speed.

Between them and the towering equine mountain were innumerable lesser beasts, all of them wading through the marshlands of Allianthé’s creation. The bike had no such issue with the quagmire of life, for the grasping plants grasping at their foes legs left them alone, and the goddess of cycles herself had plenty of experience driving though the wetlands of the riverlands. So instead it was only the lesser beasts that stood against them, and they were akin to roadbumps.

Blades cleaved through bull sized beasts of soulless flesh as the goddess weaved to and fro, cutting a path of least resistance and, as she had claimed, building up momentum of godly proportions as they sped towards their foe.

As Asheel’s machine sliced through the monsters, Galaxor was throwing his new weapon in every and it always came back to his hand a bit bloodier than before. With his other hand he’d grab monsters or outright push his enormous hands through them, killing a dozen at a time.

The grand beast, however, did not remain idle as they cut down its minions, and instead spread out its wings which glowed a sickly purple, and then unleashed a monsoon of magical arrows of the same colour, each and every one bearing a different crippling curse.

Ah! I’ve seen this move before! I’ll sort this one out. ” said Galaxor to Asheel as he teleported off of the vehicle, right in the path of the arrows. Taking an impossibly deep breath, Galaxor sucked the air around him in a large area and with the arrows relying on the inherent laws of physics started to drop from the sky in an unpredictable pattern hitting the monsters. Other arrows would veer wildly off course as they encountered the localised area of low/no air pressure. ‘Alas, it didn’t stop them all. A few of them were still close to hitting them.

With a grin, Galaxor spun the Cosmic Destroyer at impossible speeds, forming a whirlwind. This slowed down the arrows enough to just drop or in the case of the one that did still manage to keep up, get destroyed by the godbaned artefact.

The arrows flew every which way, striking the lesser beasts instead of them, and though none of them took visible injuries when they struck, many of them nonetheless promptly keeled over, braying and shrieking as if in intense pain. This made them very easy targets for the Breaker, who did donuts and figures of eight in the marsh to maintain her speed.

If the grand beast could have looked perturbed by this state of affairs, it would have. Instead it folded its wings up, concentrating all of the curse energy it had channelled in the flaps together. Then it directed the elbows of the wings at them and started using the whole set up like a pair of back mounted cannons, a purple glow racing up the length of the folded wings before being launched towards them in the form of singular arrows, each one dozens of metres long and full of the payload as hundreds of the lesser shots it had just taken.
Galaxor weaved between the arrows with the grace of one who’s been fighting his whole life, combined with the fact that each arrow had a trajectory which if one would take in account of all the small things such as air resistance, speed, random chance and so on, they could easily calculate when to move away from their path. Unfortunately for Galaxor, there was one thing he couldn’t calculate. The movement of the beast itself.

As soon as Galaxor was in range and past the arrows, a massive claw came down upon him. Using the Cosmic Destroyer, as a shield for the blow, Galaxor was brought to the ground where the outer god pressed on him with all his might, even as the Cosmic Destroyer damaged it.

Just in time, the Breaker demonstrated exactly why she’d tried to insist on not just teleporting in as she ramped off of the corpse of a lesser beast and sent her super cycle smashing into the side of the beast. The vehicle was no god killer, but the sheer amount of momentum getting transferred sent it stumbling off of Galaxor, ending its attempt at crushing him. It also sent the goddess and her machine tumbling down into the marsh below, where they landed with a splash next to the god.

As she pulled herself out of the water, so too did a number of unusual lesser beasts. Moss , vines, and other plant matter seemed to grow out of them, which had perfectly disguised them within the creation of the goddess of life. Yet despite that, they should have been able to sense them, yet instead they blended in perfectly with the essence of Allianthé that suffused her godkiller created swamp trap.

They charged the pair of gods, and in that moment it was as if the trap had turned upon them, as life bloomed all around, forming grasping roots and vines that threatened to drag them down into the mud, and hold them there for these beasts to feast on their divine ichor.

To feast on more divine ichor.

At that moment, Galaxor let out a roar. Something primal. Something to be afraid of. Something out of the nightmares of divines. For a second, it seemed like everything stopped to look at him and they stopped. The sounds, the movement of the creatures and everything around them. Time stopped. (For reference later, -2 MP to create a localised time stopping artefact)

From Asheel's perspective it seemed like Galaxor moved faster than usual but nothing like it was for everyone else. Galaxor blinked out of existence and when he appeared, hundreds of the monsters simply exploded and the Cosmic Destroyer was suddenly full of blood, alongside Galaxor himself. Strangely, there was now a piece of a claw around Galaxor's neck which shined with godly power.

A loud laugh soon followed and a grin on Galaxor’s face. “Wooo! I haven't had this much fun since the invasion of Avenus!” said Galaxor before the great beast took another swipe at him but this time, he expected it and teleported out of the way.

The goddess herself only caught a short moment of this, as she had ducked down to frantically pull some kind of starter cord on her Super Cycle, and only once it purred to life did she look up and see that Galaxor had blitzed everything that had been bearing down on them.

“Ridiculous”

The titan seemed to agree, infinitely frustrated by the teleporting gnat hitting it with disproportionate strength. Still, with its nearby allies obliterated, there was nothing stopping it from being more indiscriminate. It warped its wings around itself, filling them with a glow again, and then swept them out, sending a radial pulse of curse energy washing out around it.

Asheel remounted her bike and throttled the power again, sending her roaring forwards just ahead of the wave which went on and on till it had washed over hundreds of metres of mash land. Only then did it stop. Stop and hang there, creating a bubble of cursed space around itself that promised pain for any who entered it.

The bubble of cursed space stopped Galaxor in his tracks, as he teleported right at the edges of it from all the possible sides and it seemed that Erigoth smiled as he saw his foe stopped in his tracks and then the Cosmic Destroyer flew past it while Galaxor kept his distance, killing the lesser beasts by hand.

Within a breath, Galaxor teleported a few times around, each time waiting until the very last moment, until he felt the curse energy almost touching his majestic skin. Not that it worked very well. It seemed that the Outer God was learning, as the energy blasts followed Galaxor everywhere he would teleport as if homing onto his divine essence.

In a manner of minutes, Galaxor was all over the battlefield. Waves of curse energy following him right into the leftover of the beast army. Some were incinerated upon contact while others jumped away only to be caught in the blast that followed. Seeing that there was no end to the energy, Galaxor shook his head. The time for games was over.

His whole demeanour changed as he channelled his heroic Aspect. Suddenly, a part of the battlefield was covered in a bright yellow light as his aura made him shine almost like a sun. He then shrunk to the size of a flea and teleported straight onto the skin of the Outer God, cursed energy following him only to hit their master. Pain went through Galaxor’s body in waves, his majestic skin burned under the strength of the curse energy.

I call that. Return to sender. ” Galaxor shouted through the pain before teleporting away from the Outer God and growing 20 times in size, finally matching the Outer God’s enormous size.

And down the Cosmic Destroyer went towards its head as it returned from its flight, while a punch to the sides was readying up the moment he’d raise his wings or arms to protect itself. The line was cast, it was just time for the Outer God to take the bait…only that he didn’t. Using his wings, Erigoth pulled himself out of the blow and his counterattack came swift as a death.

The two wings each went towards Galaxor’s neck while his arms towards the midsection. A similar attack that would’ve been easily dodged or parried, if it wasn’t for momentum of the previous blow or the speed at which Erigoth came at Galaxor, faster than before by a few orders of magnitude.

The Cosmic Destroyer flew from Galaxor’s hand and right into one of the wings, shattering it upon impact while one of his hands went to stop Erigoth’s then went up into the sky, circling the planet…while the other wing, came down upon Galaxor, threatening to cut him in half. Teleporting while also holding the Outer God proved to be impossible, so, the next best thing was what Galaxor did. An eye for an eye. Moving his head to the side, just as the wing came upon him, talon first, it managed to cut through Galaxor’s left eyebrow down until his chin. Godly ichor poured from the wound, scalding the ground below in heroic blood.

A loud grunt was all that was heard from Galaxor and for a split second Erigoth, if he could’ve shown it, he would’ve been proud that he managed to hit the lowly gnat that gave him trouble…not that it mattered. With his attention caught, the Cosmic Destroyer, which had flown out of sight, suddenly reappeared from the opposite direction, having circumnavigated the globe, and riding it like a broom or a bomb while waving her hat in the air and cackling like mad was the Breaker.

She and it then promptly slammed into Erigoth’s back at its weakest point, pulverising in an instant the weakest armoured plate and punching straight into it. There came two shrieks of pain from the goddess, one old, one young, and then the Mother took over and started biting and scratching at the flesh surrounding her, lifetimes of faux mortality enough to grant her the pain resistance needed to endure the curse filled heart of the beast. As she’d say later, this was nothing compared to the pain of childbirth.

Galaxor laughed out loud through the pain of losing an eye and previous burns as he saw Asheel riding the Cosmic Destroyer before stopping as Erigoth doubled his strength, trying to break the hold in which Galaxor had him.

And then they were inside the beast. A fraction of Galaxor’s willpower followed the Cosmic Destroyer inside Erigoth and started banging itself against all the internal organs that it could find. It was as if the Cosmic Destroyer was a bee caught in a glass dome, trying to escape. Hitting everything it could find and due to the strength of the armoured plates, it couldn’t find a way out combined with the distinct knowledge of any and all weak points of a monster, what happened inside Erigoth could only be described as a carnage. An internal massacre.

Deathly screams followed as the outer god was slowly broken apart from the inside until finally it finally collapsed down into the vengeful marsh that had followed it since its first and now only victory. Root and vine lashed up, practically entombing the beast and slowly started to drag it down into the mud. Before it sank completely a green fist punched its way out of the corpse, and a soaking in gore goblin pulled her way out of the carcass.

The mother tried and failed to wipe herself down, groaned, and then yelled “you owe me at least … 3 hot baths!” up at a hovering Galaxor.

Finally Erigoth was dead. Galaxor very quickly gathered up a few of his armoured plates just before they sank into Allianthe’s swamp and then watched as Asheel got itself out of it.

By all the divines, Maintainer that was EPIC!. Truly, a heroic move not seen in aeons. Amazing! ” started Galaxor with the glee of one who just managed to kill a god before clearing his throat and continuing “3 hot baths? You’re the one that went inside him! You also owe me a new eye! Bloody lost it while you were massaging the lesser beasts with your machinery. ”, initially his voice was meant to be calm and collected but he failed and started laughing out loud for a few seconds.

“Ah quit your babying, I’m sure you’ll look fetching in an eyepatch” she bit back half heartedly, before getting caught up in his laughter more as an outlet for the dying exhilaration than the humour of any of this. As she devolved into her own cackling, her orb-like transport gradually rolled over, arriving just in time for her to dismount her corpse-based perch before it fully sank into the mud.

That’s where you’re definitely not wrong. I look fetching in anything. ” replied Galaxor with a laugh as he showcased his muscles for her before falling towards the ground and teleporting next to her in the orb and onto the pillow pile within, exhaustion finally catching up with him, as the sun slowly started to rise, illuminating them and the battlefield in a golden light.





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Hidden 10 mos ago Post by King of Rats
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Getting Gloinked


Strawberry Emerald was in a dangerous situation. Something was in the spire. They weren’t sure how it had gotten in. The entrance was closed! They were sure they had closed it! But now something was inside, its form was familiar yet strange, it wasn’t the prismatic shifting that Strawberry’s was, instead it was a pulsing mass of flesh that seemed to crawl upon half-formed clawed limbs. It moved about without cohesion, slamming itself into the pieces of furniture in the entry room. Strawberry didn’t know what it was, but it definitely wasn’t a Gloink, which made it dangerous.

The thing stopped for a moment, its formless head moving about, almost as if it were searching for something. Then, it stretched out its half formed limbs, the sound of flesh ripping and bones cracking encompassing the room as the limbs grew in size. Its form extending out from its flesh, the mass hardening into a blackened exoskeleton, its head taking shape with a singular unblinking red eye at its center. Which quickly began to sweep around the room, its gaze seemingly scrutinizing every little thing.

Strawberry ducked behind one of the bookshelves, their form squeezing flat to be able to fit. Only keeping a small sliver of their body out to be able to keep an eye on what the creature was doing. They didn’t know what to do, there never had been something like this creature in the spire. The others were still upstairs, enjoying the loam meal they were having. Oh why did they have to be the one guarding the entrance today!

A crashing noise took Strawberry out of their thoughts, the horrid creature had grabbed onto one of the pieces of furniture, causing it to crash down in front of it. They needed to do something before it tore apart the spire, and fast.

Slowly, they emerged from their hiding spot, gradually taking a more solid form as they did so. The creature noticed them almost immediately, its large red eye staring at them with an intensity they had never seen before.

There was barely enough time to solidify before the thing came charging towards them. Forcing the gloink to rush out of the way to avoid the thing slamming into them. Instead letting it smash against the wall, causing it to emit a loud growl of anger. Strawberry had never really fought before, Gloinks were good at a lot of things, but fighting was beyond many of them. Sure they could transform into many things, but many of those things were just as squishy as they already were.

This meant that Strawberry had very few options, the thing was quickly regaining its senses after hitting the wall, and they would need to think of something, and fast, before it came at them again. Their gaze turned throughout the room, something could surely help them. Something, something. Their gaze fell back onto the creature, and its black exoskeleton, the layers of bony plate encompassing the creature’s form. Strawberry had an idea.

With another roar, the creature charged at them, but this time, they were prepared. Shifting their form, Strawberry gave themselves a large limb, one covered in its own layers of bony plate, transforming their near liquid goo into a solid layered mass of bone and armor that ran all the way down to their core. Bringing it around, they caught the creature right as it reached them, the club of an arm crashing straight into its jaw and head.

The creature sprawled as it smashed back into the wall, its head smashed with the force. But it wasn’t done yet. It rose once more with a gurgled roar, its flesh and bone snapping back into place, a large maw of teeth forming as it reared back to strike.

Strawberry was ready, their own form shifting, the layers of bone spreading into their newly humanoid shape, forming their own pink and green suit of armor. The creature surged forth, claw and teeth slashing against their bone, a sense of pain still rang through Strawberry’s dispersed neural system, but the beast clearly couldn’t pierce as deep as it wanted. They responded in kind, bringing another of their clubbed fists up into the beast’s chest, sending it flying off.

This was their time, they rushed forward, charging at the creature and delivering several blows in succession, ensuring the beast’s regeneration could not activate. This time, they didn’t stop until the thing was a broken mash of flesh and bone. Portions of it still caked onto their arms and fists. They gave it a moment, checking if it would regenerate again, when it didn’t, they decided it was time to get rid of it. Shifting their hands to be able to grab, they picked up the remains, taking them to the entrance door, and quickly tossing them out. This time they made absolute sure the door was locked.

They looked at themselves, the layers of armor still on them. They should tell the others. Well, after they cleaned up.

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Hidden 10 mos ago 9 mos ago Post by urukhai
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The first drama of Inanna

The lessons that must be learned





To many the question, of whether it is a curse or a blessing to be named by a god, would occur at least once in their life. To Inanna though this particular thought had never truly occurred. Not because they found no difficulty in the constant visions of the burning lands, or even the noticeable marks burned into their feathers. But perhaps mostly, in spite of it.

They had grown much from when the goddess of fire had named them. They had memorized all the stories there were to hear, and telling them with skill. They had grown strong as they wandered farther and farther from the city each night to gather and hunt. Theirs had become a joyful presence around the fires at night, and theirs had become dependable hands for the community. There was however a sadness that could not be placed that resided not only within Inanna, but all those who knew them well. A sense of impermanence perhaps, of home always being over the next horizon and this was a simple way station on the road.

It was this sense that Inanna sat with as the light of the bonfires began to spring up around them. It had been two and a half decades since their naming this night, a cause for celebration in all other times. But even as the others began setting up their trading stalls and the storytellers began to gather their classes, Inanna sat alone. They sat on the edge of the community, as if in a trance they looked at the horizon. As the stars showed their gleaming forms over the desert, Inanna let the tranquility of the moment wash over them.

With the tranquility came memories. A trickle at first but soon becoming a flood of sensations and images that subsumed their sight. The first time they heard stories around the bonfires, the taste of bloodbroth of particular quality, the heat of the sand under Itzal’s gaze, the burning eyes of Anat’aa. All and more flickered through the phoenix’s mind, their internal flame flaring in the act of remembrance. They wrapped themself in the warmth and sense of completeness so powerful it was as if they were standing before the bonfires even now.

Perhaps this is why they did not feel the movement of their clawed feet across the sand, the motion and repetitive sound the only indication of their travel. They would have continued like this, led by their own visions into the desolation, if it were not for a sound of distress that lanced through the haze. Blinking, Inanna realized two things quickly. The bonfires of the city were now glimmering stars themselves so far were they in the distance, and that immediately before them lay a wounded fox.

It was pierced in its side by four crude spear shafts. Gowing ichor seeped from its wounds with each shallow breath, flowing off its side to land on the uncaring ground. Inanna bent over the wounded animal, its eye moving to watch them. “What happened here?” their voice was little more than a murmur, yet they felt as if they had shouted into the night.

“Hurt and hunted, left to lay here to wait for the sun.”

The reply did not come as words, but thoughts that slipped into Inanna’s mind. Startling Inanna who could only muster back the slight reply of “Why?”

Yet again their voice felt far too large for what it had actually been. But all the same the foreign thoughts crept into their mind, words forming from projected feelings and approximations.
“They wanted things they did not deserve. Things I would not give them. Now I am here, and so are you. So one must wonder, what will you do now?”

Inanna stopped for a moment, considering the question posed. The only answer that answered in the depths of their mind was a simple one. Reaching out they seized the first of the four spears. “I will do what I can, even if it is not much.”

The fox did not remove its gaze from the beastfolk as they tugged and pulled, freeing the first spear with a slight pop. As they did the spear head fell away from the shaft, which crumbled in their hand. The fox still just looked at them, no sign of pain or discomfort breaking its ineffable expression. Still its thoughts touched Inanna’s mind again “I could hurt you if you free me, why persist?”

“Because it is the right thing to do and getting hurt isn't a guarantee.” Inanna answered back as they seized the second of the spears, only for the same process as the first to effect it as well. The glimmering spearpoint dropping to the sand at their feet. As it did the fox asked on.

“Shouldn't you be around the fires, telling stories for your fellows?”

“I will when this work is done. Perhaps I will tell a story about this.” Inanna replied with a smile as the third spear slid free. Again the shaft dissolved, and again the spear head landed softly on the sand. As it did, again did the fox ask a question of Inanna.

“What do you want?”

This last question took Inanna aback, as the answer did not come to them as quickly as the first three. There was no tone to the thought, but something in their very soul knew that this was not something to answer so quickly. Their hand hesitated on the fourth spear as they searched for something to say. What did they want? They slowly realized they had never asked themself that, relying as they did on their naming.

They sat in silence, the phoenix and the fox, only the stars to watch them for a time. Finally Inanna found their voice enough to answer the question “I want to see the world, I want to learn all the stories they have to tell. I want…” Inanna’s voice trailed off as they reached for the last spear “I want to know why I was named.”

The last spear slid out noiselessly as Inanna spoke. As it dissolved the fox began to rise, the glowing ichor that once seeped from the wound vanishing. Even the wounds themselves closed up in an eye blink, leaving no trace of their ever being there. Looking down the fox touched each of the spearheads with its nose, a small ember sparking off on to each of them as it did so. As this was done it raised its head to look Inanna in the eyes.

Inanna who was now realizing the immense size of the fox before them, met its gaze silently. The world around them seemed to drain away as the memory of eyes from so long ago once more invaded their waking sight. Instinctually they felt as if they should look away, tear their mortal gaze away from the depths that were the fox’s. Fighting against this instinct they continued to return the gaze of the fox as its thoughts once more crept into their mind.

“You have done me a service, a kindness. As such I bid you to take up those little things, carry them with you as you and bring them to the spiral. When you are in doubt in your journey, or in trouble yourself, hold one close and I shall answer. I give you this gift of four trinkets, four calls, in exchange for my four questions.”

Inanna cast a glance to where the now slightly glowing spearheads lay at their feet, half buried as they were in sand. Bringing their gaze back to the fox, they found their voice once more “Thank you..”

A broad smile touched the edge of the fox’s mouth as their thoughts cut Inanna off “Dont thank me yet child, wait till after its all over. If you still want to say those words, then I will listen to them. Now go, I do believe you have some packing to do.”

Inanna drew in a breath to speak once more, but as they blinked their eyes they realized they were once more sitting where they had been at the edge of the city. Only now they clutched four spear heads in their left hand. Rising they spent the rest of the night gathering supplies and traveling clothes. No goodbys did they offer the community. Not because they did not have any to give, but because this goodby had been said so many years ago.

The next night they set off into the desert, pausing only to look back at the city as they crested a vast dune. They burned the image of the glittering fires among the rough mudbrick buildings into their memory with a smile. Something within them said they would once more see this sight again, but at the same time did reside the feeling that his was the last sight of home.

They traveled, as was their peoples custom, mostly at night. Flying when they could and walking when their wings failed them, stopping only for the breifist of times under the shadows of dunes when the sun peeked out over the horizon. They traveled night after night, the stars their only companion, till eventually their supplies of bloodbroth began to grow low. Stopping for a night, Inanna piled together kindling and tried to spark a fire, but no flame came. Again and again they tried, still no fire came to them. Growing hungry and cold as the heat of the day quickly vanished from the sand they grew to despair.

Casting their firemaking kit aside in frustration, they shrunk down beside the cold tinder and shivered. They hugged themself in comfort and in effort to stay warm. Without even meaning to their hand found one of the spearpoint and clutched it tightly. “Why wont it light” they asked themself and the dark “How can I make fire if it wont light?”

The night offered no reply to the beastfolk, but it was not the nights place to answer anyway. Instead the glow of the spear tip faded and the voice from before whispered into Inanna’s mind. “Heat, dear one. Fire needs heat. If those tools will not give you that. Find it another way, you have all you need before you.”

Inanna laughed sardonically to themself. The answer was so easy to a disembodied voice, so simple. But the voice remained silent, resolute in the answer it had given. As such, seeing no other options before them, Inanna began to reflect on the answer. As they did they rubbed their taloned hands to bring the feeling back into them from the cold. With the motion came a slight heat between them, piquing Inanna’s curiosity. Doing it again they reached out to one of the strands of tinder. As they did they felt strange, like a trickle of energy coursed through their palm from where the heat had been. It flowed from them into the tinder and in an instant the stick burst into flame. So was Inanna able to become warm, and eat that night.

More night passed, they hitched rides on the great rolling beetles in the sands when they could. But soon came the day they ran out of kindling, and upon finding nothing once more despaired. Again they clutched one of the spearheads and asked the dark for answers “I have heat, but I have no kindling. What more can I do?”

Again the voice came to them “Fire’s fuel can be many things. You only think of fire as something that jumps from stick to stick. But you have none, what more can you burn?”

Once more Inanna was left to ponder this answer. What more could they burn, what more did they have? As they thought they recalled watching the storytellers of their youth create the bonfires. Watching their careful construction of the piles so they would burn slowly over the night. This memory brought them happiness, a bright warmth to their weary mind. As before curiosity took hold, and they channeled the happiness they felt towards where the heat from before resided. Closing their eyes they felt the two collide and begin to feed themself, dancing within their soul. Upon opening their eyes they saw a small fire flickering in their hand. This made them smile.

After this night the journey seemed a short one. But they spent all their free time feeding the warmth different things, disgust, anger, sorrow, passion. All seemed to influence the flames produced differently, some were larger and roared with fury, others were smaller and sputtered unhappily. So fascinated by this they were that they almost did not realize when they had reached the edge of the spiral.

They looked out upon it, the stretch of burnt and broken land. Watched as jets of magma were thrown into the air, watch the heat rise and shimmer in the sun. Gathering themself they removed their traveling gear, leaving it in a small heap on the edge of the burn terrain, and set off into the burning spiral. It was slow going at first, the broken obsidian glass that constituted the ground around the channels of magma cut at their feet. Quietly to themself they wished they could simply fly over it, but the gasses that rose from the plumes dismayed that notion.

Soon they began to think the very land was working against them. Paths would close as they tried to cross them, plumes would erupt directly in their path, vast sprays of airborne lava smatter on their feathers. Soon more and more burns began to cover their feathers, blackened points where even their god blessed resistance to fire began to fail. Their clothing began to smolder as they continued, the edges blackening in their proximity to the raw heat of the spiral.

Burned as they were, they still pressed on in their path further into the spiral. This progress was halted though when they came to a veritable wall of obsidian that jutted out into their path. Taking a moment to rest they sat against it. Taking a moment to assess their situation they had no cause for excitement. They were in a truly barren place, they were covered in burns from the magma and cuts from broken obsidian. Even the air was getting difficult to breathe, so thick was it with volcanic gasses. Still they began to laugh to themself, this was what hey had always wanted after all.

They reflected on what brought them here, across the desert and away from the relative safety of the city. They thought of the wonder when they had caused fire to spring up from their hand, of the wind filling their feathers in flight, of the faces of other travelers and friends back home. So far away all that seemed now and so far away the center of the spiral seemed as well, stuck as they were behind this wall.

Again they fished out a spear head, a motion that had become normal to them, after all this time.

“So here I am! What more do I need to know! What great minutia of wisdom will let me tear a wall down!” Inanna shouted above the roar or the spiral, a hint of overwhelming exasperation creeping into their hoarse voice.

Like before the answer came quietly into their thoughts. “Your fire can breach that little wall, you have the fuel, you have the heat. Now, like all things born into this world, you must let it breathe.”

As the glow and voice faded Inanna glanced back at the wall. Gathering the most verdant thoughts, they focused all they could muster upon it. Immediately a sparking flame began to dance on its mirrored surface. They began to pull heat from their very essence and the world around them. The fire grew, yet the wall remained. They poured more and more energy to feed it, giving entire parts of the memories to the fire, watching in their minds eye as they turned to cinder in the flame. Still the fire could not breach the glass.

Still they endured, trying to find out what Anat’aa had meant. How could they make it breathe? Finding no answer, and feeling their feathers starting to singe as the intense flame claimed more and more of themself, they began to laugh. No mirth lived in this sound, only a guttural animalistic exasperated desperation. As they did they felt something peculiar. The fire pulsed with their laughter, reacting to it as if the very sound itself encouraged (or offended) it.

Drawing as great a breath as their wounded lungs would allow, they closed their eyes. Letting the sound of the fire be the only thing that filled their senses, they breathed out. As they did the fire roared and pulled the breath into itself, leaving Inanna gasping as no air returned to their lungs.Yet Inanna screwed their eyes shut against the desperate pleas of their lungs and forced what breaths should have come to them to instead feed the fire.

To Inanna, time burned away in the heat of the flame, leaving only them and the blazing heat alone in all of creation. There was peace in that isolation, an understanding that they had never felt before. So it was that in this isolation they saw something within the flame, not with their eyes (still shut as they were) but with their very soul. A flicker of an image, a memory not born of their own life, but one of a time outside of time, a life outside of life. Burning words set upon an impossible scroll, yet they could not read them from their limited viewpoint.

With a deep crack the loneliness was shattered as the great wall of glass cracked and shuddered against the flame. With a splintering bang a way opened up before Inanna, who opened their eyes, finding the world a bit blurrier. Bringing their burned and singed body forward they scrambled into the rift in the wall, hauling themself up onto the top. Collapsing as they reached the top they gasped for air they had not yet taken and silently rejoiced in the completion of the task.

Struggling to their feet, Inanna looked out across the center of the spiral. The vast lake of molten rock surged around a broken pathway that led to the very center of the fire. There stood a platform, untouched by heat and gas, and atop it they knew Anat’aa waited. They could not see her but they knew she was their, watching, waiting.

Slowly striding forward, their gate became a run as the weight of a journey soon over came upon them. They bounded from stone to stone deftly ignoring the danger that surged around them. Soon only a single stone and the platform remained, a simple jump, a final step. But Inanna balked as jets of magma sprung up in their path. Wincing as the smattering struck them they knew they could not wait long in the withering heat of the caldera. Seeing no way forward, and unwilling to go back they grasped the last of the spearheads and steeled themself.

Without speaking a question they simply closed their eyes and jumped towards the platform.

They did not feel the magma plume strike them, they did not feel the burning ooze eat into their flesh as they landed in a heap on the platform. All they felt was the peace that they had found in the fire, the serenity in the dark isolation. Had their beak been able to smile still, it would have. Yet this isolation was soon interrupted by the voice that had become an infrequent friend in their life.

“So you have arrived little Inanna. I am so happy to see you again.” The warm voice of the goddess washed over the broken and fading psyche of Inanna like a balm on a sunburn. “I see you are owed a final answer, a final lesson that you still clutch in your hand. So what is your question, little one?”

No voice came from the ruined form of Inanna in answer, as there was no voice left to ask. But in the darkness they gathered what they could find of themself, heat from their burning wounds, air from their last breaths, and the searing memory of the eyes of the Goddess from the night of their naming. Burning letters appeared in their darkness, like those they had seen within the fire. It was a simple question,

Why?

The question burned in the darkness for a time, before it was met with a warm peal of laughter from the Goddess of fire. “After all this oh little one you have not seen, you have not felt, the answer to that question? The answer is written on the fabric of creation itself. That is simply this, outside of the heat needed to spark a flame, the fuel needed to sustain it, and the air needed to grow it, fire only has one true property my dear one. And that is change. Nothing that it touches remains the same, not entirely. Even you as you are has been burned away and changed. Change is all that fire is, and all that fire can be. And now it is all that you are.”

A strange sensation struck Inanna with the closing of the Goddess words, they drew breath into what were once ruined lungs. They slowly brought themself to stand on what had been missing feet. They stood awkwardly and felt what should have been a ruined body. They found they were whole, but they were different. They terraced great burns in their flesh that remained, their feet cracked as if they were still singed and their feathers still had holes burned through them. Above all this though, the darkness remained. Touching around their eyes they felt the large spiderweb burn that covered them.

Strangely no panic entered their thoughts at this revelation, instead their thoughts turned to the clothing that draped their form. It felt softer than anything they had worn before, a far cry from the roughspun fabrics of the city of their youth. “I don’t understand” They finally croaked out, their new lungs wheezing in their first use.

“You have been changed little one” Anat’aa answered back as she circled the blind beastfolk “Touched by my fire and become something more than you were. You must feel it dont you? you felt it before, but now you know fire in all its stages, now you can see it?”

Indignation panged Inanna’s heart, after they could nto see anything let alone what the Goddess was referencing. Breathing in they were about to protest this, but something cut them off before the words could even form. A flickering light shone before them. The words upon an impossible page, a burning light that became the first fire, lay before them. They reached out to it and felt the familiar and comforting warmth of their created fire spring up in their hand.

Releasing the fire a sob escaped from Inanna “I do see it”

Clapping her hands together Anat’aa smiles win joy “Wonderful! Simply wonderful! Now I have one more gift for you.”

Stepping around Inanna, Anat’aa gathered the four spearheads and set upon them with divine flame. Pulling and contorting them, Anat’aa twisted them into the form of a diadem that could fit snugly over Inanna’s ruined eyes. Placing it upon them she etched three blessings upon the design. The first let those without sight the ability to see through three fiery motes that became tied to the diadem. The second deepened the connection to the primordial flame, so that the wearer might know it better than all. The last etching brought rejuvenation, as like the bonfires of Inanna’s city were stoked every night so to will the body and life of the wearer.

Given this gift Inanna bowed low, a smile once more touching the scarred beak of the phoenix beastfolk. Reaching out Anat’aa raised their head so that way she may look into the diadem like she was looking into the eyes of Inanna so long ago. “The world is changing faster and faster little one. Dangers not even I could have predicted are coming to pass. So it is that I have given you these gifts, and a purpose anew. Teach those who will be taught, shield those who cannot. Gather many around the fires like you have in your youth. They will be my fire keepers, and you will be their guide”

Anat’aa paused for a moment in her decree, a pang of sorrow touching her essence “Also know I am sorry little Inanna, yours will be a life harder than I wanted for you. No true rest will you know as it is your purpose to wander. But know one last thing. If ever you or those who come to follow you need a place of rest or succor, this place will always be open to you.”

Looking up at the Goddess, the first pyromancer felt none of the sorrow of the deity that stood before them. Instead a renewed sense of vigor filled their form. Drawing themself up they only responded with a single question “Where should I begin my lady?”







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Timemaster Ashevelendar

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A Library For The Ages

The Knowledge Chronicles

Once upon a time in a cave…


After the battle with Erigoth, Galaxor returned to the Goblin Underground to see how they reacted, seeing that Erigoth was killed just above their caves. What he saw was sad. Tunnels collapsed. Hundreds dead. Even more goblins injured, trapped or missing.

Maxima was overworked, to say the least, as she was directing rescue efforts and the survivors. It was a mess and a half. Lucky for everyone, Galaxor was there to save the day…again.

In minutes, he cleared the tunnels of rocks, saved all the trapped goblins, cleaned up the library and his own temple and then took a nap in his holy temple. Galaxor was tired. Weeks passed as he slept, undisturbed by anyone. In his sleep, his divine blood slowly leaked on the ground until eventually, a hole was formed into the floor of the holy temple which slowly gave away under Galaxor’s weight.

Under the holy temple, unbeknownst to anyone, was yet another cavern. Deep and close to Galbar’s core. With a loud yawn, Galaxor woke up to find himself in an unfamiliar place. Quickly looking around, he realised where exactly he was and let out a laugh that caused a small earthquake.

Oh my, oh my. Galbar’s core is so close that I can feel its heat. This place is perfect! ” he said out loud before flying upwards back to his temple and let out a huge blast of divine energy which travelled downwards until it reached the place where Galaxor fell and with an impressive BOOOOM a tower was formed. It reached high up but not fully up the hole.

Afterwards, Galaxor summoned Maxima and explained her and the GU’s new task. Go down by any means necessary. Reach the new temple and fill it up with every piece of knowledge possible.





While it was hard for the goblins of GU, in only 2 short time periods they managed to reach it, filling it up with all the knowledge they gained. Inside the temple, they'd find themselves even smarter than before. Things they only heard about, available almost instantaneously for as long as they were inside.



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The war against the end times and... and... Who am i...




In the Saleve’nios the cities readied for the hordes to arrive as the council overlooked as the monsters from the south arrived as the soldiers at the wall readied up arrows put in bows and soon a commander raised his hand and with monsters in sight he shouted. “Loose!” as the arrows flew the monsters began to shriek and shout in sounds that shook them with arrows one more in bows he soon shouted “LOOSE!” his voice becoming more desperate as some of the monsters seemed able to climb the arrows helping in keeping then away but soon the wall shook as a large monster huge in size with a insectoid appearance walking in two legs with carapaces protecting it from damage but that was not his main concern as he faced forward and using a lot of strength and his will he soon broke through the wall causing it to collapse on top of it with several goblins screaming as they fell down with it as the monsters began quickly rushing through the opening to the streets as swords began to clash and fires consume and in the morning the city was abandoned of life. Streets emptied with blood on the floor, houses barged and some destroyed, statues toppled and the palace of the city had scratches, claw marks and toppled pillars, standing in the main hall of the palace was a toppled statue covered in blood. The statue was of El’zadir covered partially in blood from its face to its chest as the city echoed in silence as the statue cracked for a moment.

Across the lands of the Saleve’nios the same would repeat in mass cities would be burned, abandoned, destroyed and its people fleeing closer to the seas and more fortified cities such as Ale'venia, a grand citadel fortified by massive walls and home to many refugees. The insectoid monster walked on two legs, seeing the city in the distance as a small horde of other monsters of many shapes and forms, some nightmares given form, others more down to earth. As he looked at the ongoing attack the defences held extremely well as hordes of monsters were being pushed back as he smelled he soon felt something off looking to a hole he could notice the darkness but also a divine energy pull from below. As he and the others began to crawl into it many other monsters of many shapes followed as they began to journey through the cave ever deeper into the earth. In the depths they soon found the opening towards the underground, the continent that exists below the surface. As the monsters moved through the underground populated by large mushrooms existing thanks to the lack of light and the growth created by the dwarves below growing then and selective breeding. As the monsters moved through the terrain they soon began moving towards something they felt inside this great expansive cavern finding a small farm as they approached the old dwarf tending to the mushrooms soon noticed the approaching quickly grabbing his pitchfork he aimed at then but the humanoid insectoid of roughly 4 meters raised his clawed hands and swiped at the man. Looking forward he could notice lights in the distance of other dwarves as he moved with the other monsters as blood dripped of his hand;

Some time later


El’zadir shed a tear wiping it for a moment as she could feel the cities on the surface she then mumbled. “I am a failure…” she focused her vision and she could see a city on siege as she stopped again closing her eyes she felt more tired than ever. The singing of her domain even stopped calling as it seemed the world needed to heal off this disaster especially as the dwarves seemed better off it sang to her to go to work even as the world burned. But after the chaos spread she stopped hearing its singing and her domain seemed to talk less to her then before. She looked forward to her residence carved into the stone of the cave. A silk curtain made out of spider webbing blew towards her from the light wind she sighed holding her forehead. She had teached the dwarfs on how to carve stone and build from it as she looked at her obsidian skin seeing the calluses and her eyes blinked as she remembered. The past days reminded her of the work she had in teaching the dwarves in carving stone and mining to build their underground cities. While looking at her hands she soon heard the sound of war horns as time had come her eyes seemed motionless but soon enough they seemed filled with anger and determination as she rose up she pushed through the emotions grabbing a pair of gauntlets she put aside and begging wearing then as she rose up wearing the battle armour made up by the dwarves. Leaving her room she walked up the stairs as she adjusted her body armour marching through a camp as iron was being smelted and forged into weapons she teached then how to use iron for tools and weapons.

The sound of war horns then began scrambling into action as lines began to form the fungi-covered cave floor; the dwarven soldiers made tight formations of shields and spears. With many other regiments with battle axes or swords archers stood in the back as they organised; they soon began to make way for her as she walked forward she towered over then standing 4 meters tall. Moving forward wearing iron armour made by her children, armour with large plates to protect her chain armour underneath it and greaves and shoulder plates while in her right hand she had a spear and in her left hand she had a helmet with wings. Putting it on she soon stopped in front of the army of 10 thousand strong. Looking forward she could see a fire in the distance as the horde of monsters was coming, she then turned to her children and soon said. “NOW! We stand here with me, my children against the forces of the end times!” They soon banged their shields in respect for what they called their high queen mother. The clans were organised into kingdoms and she was the high queen of their entire people as the sound of howling could be heard as she turned towards the clearing she soon put her helmet on mumbling to herself. “Let us stand against the storm…” Emerging from the hill were monsters of many shapes and forms, creatures of nightmares. “Stand!” El’zadir shouted as she readied her spear as the lines seemed about to connect her forces outnumbered them but she knew they were strong enough to cause more than enough damage. With a monster rushing her quadruped and quite huge she soon screamed as she stabbed it and lifted with her spear throwing the monster behind her as the lines finally connected to war cries and clashing of swords and spears.

El’zadir punched a monster, a creature with multiple limbs and jagged teeth looking like a cephalopod; she soon threw a spear against it, killing it. Panting she soon dodged a blow from claws from another monster scratching and damaging her iron armour causing her to sweat a bit. They could kill her at least that was something she knew thanks to the signals sent when the calamity began. As she walked back carefully she grabbed a great axe from a dwarf and swung against the monster decapitating it. She chuckle thinking it was gone be fine the battle was in her and her children’s favour but her omniscience was having issues as she kept on fighting with axe and sword in hand as she slashed against another monster she felt her breastplate break and also feel teeth as she was lifted up screaming. Gritting her teeth as pain coursed through her pain as she was lifted by its mouth looking towards it the monster was akin to a insectoid with four arms and very strong carapace as arrows seemed to barely even affect it but it was quite huge adjusting its teeth she felt it bite her again but deeper with she screaming it. She soon noticed it's arm grabbing her by the legs and pulling her she could feel her body being stretched with the pain she felt her flesh still pierced by teeth with pain she screamed looking towards the jaw seeing a weak spot she soon swung the great axe hitting with such a strength the insectoids mandible swung open letting go of her as she fell off she could see her breast plate falling apart and blood gushing off several wounds she felt more energy as she landed on her foot holding a scream letting out a gush of air looking up the monster grabbing is bleeding jaw she could see the inbetweens of the carapaces a weak spot in its neck and with a shout she jumped tall swinging her axe against its neck the impact cutting through flesh before hitting the bone and breaking into pieces. As she landed with a broken handle in hand the monster fell behind her as she stood up panting she soon felt a shock to her mind feeling the throbbing within the wounds she had. Checking the scars were wide and still gushed a bit of blood aching with pain as well she grabed then even if the bite covered much of her torso.

Raising her head she soon saw the battlefield the monsters were all dead the dwarves killed the remainder monsters they were now few the ten thousand now is now four thousand as she looked at the bloodied field she sighed to herself and with a nod she then shouted orders to the others. “Tend the wounded and bring the dead to the citadel!” She exuded confidence and seemed quite energetic but inside she felt tired and exhausted it was probably a effect from the wound but she still pushed through as the battlefield was being cleaned. Walking through the field she noticed in the floor her dropped breast plate grabing it she wore it on feering that seeing her bleed would cause moral to drop due to it. Walking back to camp it began more active with the aftermath of the battle she soon stopped seeing a messenger getting close saying. “My queen mother the king of the Alåtholon has stated he fortified his capital as per your orders.” “Tell him that it isn’t needed the army sent to crush the monsters suceeded.” She answered to him feeling a bit less energetic. The messenger gave a nod going away the journey north began as she and her army returned to Dorenonol the holy site she created for the dwarves her first holy site. The citadel was constructed just as she began to create the governments of the Dwarven Clans creating the 13 Dwarven kingdoms led by a king who are then led by a high king or queen which at the moment was herself. Approaching the citadel she could see it from a distance a grand city carved into stone and rock infused partially with divine energy making it a holy site for herself she could feel that it seemed to partially help her energy gain. Looking from afar she could feel once agai nthe tinge of pain as her wounds finaly began to close. But at the same time she could see the Dwarves carrying their dead to the citadel to be burried according to the rituals they made. Her heart achaed and with it she soon said to a officer. “You…” “Mother” The Dwarf replied turning to her with she saying. “I must inspect something go ahead and tell then i might take a while to return” He gave a bow leaving as she turned back and began to walk back towards the tunnel network leading to the central chamber where the cave network began.

After walking for a long time and in the second cave opening she created long ago her mind rushed to the thoughts of the dead she caused. They called her mother and she treated then as her children yet she led then to battle. As she leaned against a wall taking a sigh to relax she wondered if the surface was safer she felt one of the monsters die. Atleast she thought she felt it the surface seemed more safe. But she soon felt with it as safety seems more common her domain order and civilization calling. Raising up she felt its call once again to build. “no…” to create, to innovate, to advance… “Stop…” to move on and repeat. A call that made her move by herself to continue “STOP!” She shouted finnaly kneeling as her mind rushed her domain still sung to her but the singing was painfull. Her mind could only remember the consequences the order she created was burning she could feel the pain caused by the calamity. To rebuild was easy but to engage on what has happened was already hard for her as tears built on her eyes falling off. “What is the point of this who…” as she mumbled to herself she soon stopped realising something and with that the singing stopped as it did she stood up from facing the floor. Her domain stopped singing it had returned it sang and it left as she stared at the cavern landscape. “Who am I?” a slave to her own domain, a goddess she was but who she was truly a blank slate…




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Tricity - A City Under Siege

The Hero Chronicles & The Cycle of Asheel

Heroes Born Out Of Strife

Collab between @Dracolunaris & @Timemaster


Storm clouds hung above Tricity, thunder rumbling and lightning flashing through the sky while below, the settlement itself was experiencing a storm of its own. Its major population centers sat on either sides of the eastern great river just before it flowed into the lands of origin, a third sat on an island in the center, which was connected to the other two by a pair of grand bridges. These bridges were the first and so far only way to cross the globe spanning river without superior swimming, beetle boat, or mundane ship, and as such mortals from far and wide had flooded towards it, fleeing the outer beasts.

The monster had nipped at their heels, harried them, nibbled at the edges, pushed them to flee faster, more recklessly, till a great bundled mass of mortal kind had arrived all at once, utterly overwhelming the city and causing mass panic. Joined by much of the civilian population of the south a great press of bodies filled the streets around the southern side of the bridge, while the city's defenders, who had attempted to hold the wilds, then the mines, then the outskirts, were now barely a street from the refugees.

Beetle boats, wooden ships, and aquatic beastfolk were attempting to ferry additional civilians out, and more defenders or supplies in, but they were making hardly a dent in the masses of people still trying to cross.

Lilly, daughter of Asheel, was among them. Having assisted her mother in regaining her power somewhere in the southern farm land, and then gotten somewhat delayed, she’d gotten caught up in the wave of people fleeing. She might have managed to get ahead of the rush thanks to her buggy had it not been for two things.

The first was simple civic duty. As a member of the council she was a representative of the people, and so at first she’d tried to manage the situation, to help them get people safety. At this point that had fallen through, however. Order had collapsed, and what little remained was in the hands of the city’s commanders, who had taken over from her once it became clear just how dire the situation was.

The other was a number of small vials of black sludge she’d acquired from a secluded little laboratory she’d had set up after a great deal of discussion with one of her past lives. She still prayed she’d not have to use that old wisdom of a forgotten race, but she’d ended up putting herself in a situation where the inevitable eventually happened.

She wasn’t the first to do something truly foolhardy however.

Instead, from a position atop a number of crates where she was trying and failing to maintain the calm of the people on the docks, she saw that opening act first hand.

Behind the civilian crowd were rows of dock side warehouses with relatively narrow side streets in between them, and out from these two chitin armored snouters stumbled, one holding a billhook, the other just a long knife having lost their primary weapon at some point. The second lost his life a moment after coming into sight, as the outer beast that had been pursuing them lunged out of the alleyway on a dozen fleshy limbs, flicking one past the guard of the billhook armed warrior and cleaving it through the knife armed one’s neck.

With a breathless cry he collapsed, knife slipping from his dead hand and towards the crowd, while the other squealed with anguish and rage and tried to fight back once more, fear overwhelmed by rage. It was not a fight they looked set to win.

The appearance of an invader spurred utter panic in most of the crowd, many diving or being pushed into the water as a result of their desperation to flee. One, however, did not flee.

A young human-seriema beastfolk, a boy with spindly limbs who, despite being a wild blood, looked like he’d snap like a twing if you breathed on him wrong. Yet despite this he had put himself in between the beast and a much smaller child despite the likelihood of him only being only a road bump if, or rather when, the beast came for them first. As fate would have it however, the fallen snouter’s sidearm had slid towards him when the warrior had fallen, a long knife with blood of beast on its edge and the blood of its fallen owner on its hilt.

The seriema glanced at the blade, at the snouter, behind him at the wash of mortality, and then did the foolhardy thing. He picked up the knife.

With an impressive burst of speed that would have surely let him get ahead of the invaders had he abandoned all he held dear, the seriema raced forwards to try and help, holding the knife in just the entirely wrong way, because he was by no means a fighter. Just a messenger boy.

He still tried to stab the beast anyway, dashing past the thrashing limbs that were tearing at the snouter’s armored body, and then hacked the knife into its side. He struck and struck with strength he should not have, only to be batted away, going tumbling to the ground. He lay there for a moment. And then got up and tried again despite his bruises. In response to a shouted instruction from the snouter, he tried stabbing rather than slashing this time, the knife found something important this time, prompting the beast to pivot to properly retaliate, only for the snouter to plunge the billhook forwards in response to that opening.

The beast roared in pain, trying to back off, only for the seriema to leap onto its back with a flap of vestigial wings, and begin stabbing it there over and over, clinging on with avian claws as it tried to shake him off, til finally it collapsed to the ground, dead.

He almost collapsed off of the beast, only for his arm to be grasped by the snouter, who gave him a nod while the crowd cheered and Lilly breathed a sigh of relief, having been unable to rip her gaze away from the fight. Yet even as she went to try and shout to restore order in the rest of the crowed, her words died on her lips as a pair of outer beasts came loping down the alleyway, a third leapt down from the rooftops and a fourth simply burst out through a wall.

For a brief moment she almost fled, but instead she breathed, gripped a vial in her hand and then started running towards the monsters instead, letting a more martial past life guide her footfalls so she could step from shoulder to shoulder of larger beastfolk and snouters. She was not, it seemed, the only one to be moving forwards, for in her peripheral vision, she saw another goblin moving towards rather than away from the danger, one that had arrived on the riverbank almost unnoticed while the fight had been ongoing.

Jaxx. What can one say about poor Jaxx? After his failed fight with Galaxor, he focused his quest to save the goblins kept by the beastfolk.

Guided by his hero sense, he found them and with a bit of foresight from his other ability, he was able to single handedly save the goblins…but that was many months ago. Maybe even years. Jaxx didn't know exactly nor did he try to keep count. His hero sense pulled him to a different issue as soon as he solved the previous one. A non-stop ringing in his mind kept pushing him more and more. Only stopping when he was too tired to listen to it.

One might ask how he reached his current location. He was deep asleep after a 3 day battle with a group of human bandits when his hero sense exploded in his mind. Screams, ringing and an overall sense of wrongness overcame his mind from every direction. The sense tried pulling him in all of them at once. It was as if the whole world was in danger.

After a few days of wandering aimlessly trying to understand what's going on, Jaxx settled on a direction and walked and walked until he reached a river. A brief discussion with the owners of a beetle boat, he understood what was going on and why he was directed in that direction in the first place.

What Jaxx didn’t understood was that time was fickle. In his journey, he had crossed multiple different timelines and met quite a few civilizations. Goblins that were still savage, beastkin that learned the art of agriculture, highly mutated creatures and rune magic users. He never understood what exactly was happening but he didn’t care either, it was what it was.

Eventually, he reached the riverbank and saw a group of monsters attacking civilians. With a mighty war cry, he pulled his sword off his back and jumped upwards as his sword went down in a deadly arc.

Lilly was, naturally, ignorant of all these facts, and instead only saw another goblin charging into the fray. Her steps might have faltered, her mind might have prayed that the hero with his mighty sword would be enough, but in that moment her body was not hers.

A warrior’s soul in a preacher’s body landed on the street by the docks, and then an ancient tendriled thing known as an Octari was wearing her skin. Yet even as it uncorked the vial of blackness and raised it to her lips, she did not fight it, for it was her and she was it, and together they became something new.

R’kava, freshly harvested from a spawning pool she and a select few others had found and cultivated using the wisdom of the dead and their own crude runecraft. Yet they had never tested the effect it had on people. Till now.

It probably should have killed her, that reckless act, but one god had made the universe a lover of the courageous, determined and resourceful, and so just as with the seriema boy, just as it was doing with so many more, it gave her the edge she needed. Endurance, strength, and most important for her, magic.

Evolution flowed through her veins, and then by her lifetimes’ worth of will, flowed to her upper back and burst from it, forming long thin tendrils tipped with venom dripping blades. She staggered, young mind seering in pain even as her old soul endured. Asserted control over this temporary flesh. Sent it racing forwards into the fray.

Said fray contained only 2 mortals now, for the snouter had fallen, though they were only broken, not quite dead. The seriema now held their allies billhook in hands that should not have been able to lift it, but the newly minted hero was nothing when compared to the old hand that was Jaxx, facing down the four cart sized outer beasts without fear or hesitation.

The blade came down and up went the outer beast's claw as it flew into the air. A massive ROOAAAARRR following it and then with the other, uninjured claw hit Jaxx. Normally, a hit like that would've been fatal but due to the heroic foresight, Jaxx managed to put his sword first and block the blow.

And…Jaxx flew in the air for a meter or two before turning in midair and shoving the sword into the ground, slowing him down. Any normal sword would've broken by now but Jaxx had this sword for a long time already, it became a hero roughly at the same time he did. It was more durable and sharper than any normal blade.

As he stopped himself, Jaxx surveyed the battlefield for a sec, noticing the seriema and Lily. Seeing that they've got things handled, at least for now, he ran once more towards his opponent. Circling it, as it tried to strike Jaxx with its tail, Jaxx delivered a series of small blows all over its body. It might've been a strong monster but it wasn't as fast as Jaxx was.

“Who along the river is that guy?” the seriema had to ask as he warded the outer beast off with his billhook, only to glance to the side and find he had to ask “and who, and what, along them are you?”

“We are-” the soul in the goblin’s body began to reply, before the goblin herself resurfaced to reply “I’m just Lilly, and I ain’t got no idea!” as she lunged one of her new combat tentacles forwards, sinking the tip into exposed flesh of their foe, which began to instantly necrosis as snake venom was pumped into its system.

“How bout you?” she asked as she reeled it back, before briefly letting a warrior past life take the wheel so he could parry an incoming slash from the poisoned beast using the knife the seriema had been using.

“Seam” the seriema named as such replied, as he hacked the curved blade of the billhook down onto the limb that had tried to hit Lilly, and finding that fighting alongside her, alongside of both of them, was somehow easier. He put it down to learning on the fly, but while that was part of it, the universe was cheering the fresh heroic band on, letting them work better both as a team and as individual parts of that team than they would have alone.

I'm the Hero Jaxx. ” he said in a tough, loud voice, as if two rocks were hitting each other. Everything relating to Jaxx seemed to have changed from before his heroic journey started, it molded him into the person he was now.

After his words, he started again circling the outer beast and in that moment Jaxx locked eyes with Lily and Seam briefly and what happened next was truly heroic.

Described before this universe's existence by Galaxor, the three heroes felt a surge of power as they now formed a party of heroes. Their wounds suddenly stopped bothering them, the exhaustion they felt gone and their general confidence grew tenfold. It was as if they knew they'll survive. They will win this fight.

Jaxx never felt such a connection before but quickly understood it must've been Galaxor’s influence, somehow. So, he continued doing what he did best and that was killing monsters. At the same time, the outer beast lunged at him, abandoning any self preservation instinct it had.

Using his new found confidence, Jaxx simply stood still right until the outer beast was about to catch him in its mouth and moved to the side…at the same time as his sword made a downward arc and off came the head of the outer beast.

Behind him, the final beast of the four suffered a far less dramatic death, particularly because it experienced it half way up the alleyway which it had tried to flee up, only for the venom and the dozens of puncture wounds inflicted by hook and claw to cause the last of its vitality to drain from it.

“Wait, did ya say Jaxx? As in the Jaxx?” Lilly asked as she turned back to the hero who was a legend of the riverlands. A living one too, it seemed, which she had no idea how it was the case, as even some of her oldest lives had tales of his exploits.

Still, with what they’d just seen, as Seam pointed out “He does fit the barter” before blinking a few times as the dying adrenaline let his mind catch up with what had just happened. He looked a bit sheepish, before doing a halve bow towards Jax, fist held just above his chest while his thumb traced a circle on it, and saying “thank you hero, I… I’d be dead without you” before turning to Lilly and offering her the same thanks.

Jaxx started cleaning his blade of the black ichor that acted as blood for the outer beasts when Lily addressed him. Stopping, he looked downwards to the minuscule form of the goblin that stood before him.

The Jaxx? I’m just Jaxx, the Hero Jaxx and no need to thank me, beastkin. It isn’t as if I do it because I want it but the curse placed upon me by our creator doesn’t give me any peace if I don’t do what I do. ” said Jaxx before looking away in the distance. It was as if he was here in body but his mind somewhere else. Lost, one might say.

There are more monsters around. Other people to save. I can feel them. ” added Jaxx as he turned his gaze towards the city, trying to figure out where the greatest danger was based on his heroic foresight.

Ironically in this instance that sense wasn’t needed, because the cheering from the people they had just saved was suddenly drowned out by screams of panic coming from the nearby bridge where far more people were trying and failing to cross the river. Said place had also had the largest concentration of soldiers trying to hold the main road, but if the barely controlled panic was spilling over into outright panic …

“Mother preserve us” Seam whispered in horror at what must be occurring, while Lilly found herself glancing between the people they had just protected and the far larger group that was now in trouble.

Guide these people to safety. No need to put yourself in more danger. ” said Jaxx, leaving the other two to keep protecting the naval evacuation as he started to sprint towards the bridge.

As he ran, he muttered under his breath, suddenly feeling more tired than before :”A hero's job never ends.

Running as fast as his heroic legs allowed him, he jumped over debris, smaller goblins and whatnot, following the arched street and using his heroic senses to guide him towards the bridge.

He encountered only a few stray beasts on the way, as well as streets packed with refugees guarded by what remained of the city’s warriors who thought him mad to be running through the streets on his own.

It was not they who needed protection however, and so the hero’s took him on an arch around the outside of the city blocks filling blob of mortal lives, until he burst onto the main road leading to the bridge, and in doing so, right into the ranks of the outer beasts.

In the instant before they noticed him, he comprehended the scene. Outerbeasts were streaming down the main road, their endless limbs trampling over the remains of the last defenders of that main road, and were now tearing into the rear of the refugees and civilians. Now finally cornered, those untrained mortals were fighting back with tooth, claw and tool, but desperation was not heroism, and they were being slaughtered as a result.

Instead heroes, as they so often did, arrived late, and as Jaxx did, they had been led by instinct or coincidence into a flanking maneuver, hitting the press of beasts from the side. He caught sight of goblins, beast folk, snouters and even a crystal strider, all armed with whatever they had been able to scrounge in their first moment of heroism, be it weapons of fallen soldiers, kitchenware or knives tied to sticks.

Two found the same alleyway as Jaxx, and came charging in just after him: a snouter chef, complete with poofy hat and apron, armed with a pair of cleavers, and an incredibly young goblin on a tricked out two wheeled Buggy wielding a wrench.

A roar was all that Jaxx gave to the outer beasts as he charged them, sword held up high, ready to cut through anything that was dumb enough to try to stop him. At his back, he felt the snouter and the small goblin followed him, echoing his war cry.

The moment the outer beasts noticed him, a few of them attacked and died. Jaxx was a whirlwind of death, jumping, kicking and slashing as he moved forward. He didn't stop, he never faltered…he just killed. One by one. Outer beast by outer beast.

And that's when the outer beasts, maybe guided by a primal instinct, declared him the biggest threat. Suddenly it wasn't 1 vs 5 but 1 vs 20 and no matter how strong and experienced Jaxx was, it proved not to be enough.

‘Alas, he achieved what he wanted. He got their attention. It seemed as if all the outer beasts not yet engaged in combat with someone else, converged upon Jaxx.

In that moment, everyone that was on the bridge, felt a divine presence. Just for a second. Something…heroic. And time slowed down. At least, for the outer beasts. It was as if their movements were sluggish. As if time itself declared that they were a bit behind.

The tiniest moment of clam was ended when an arrow flew through the air, fired by some unseen sniper, striking one of the beasts which moved too slowly to avoid this shot. This had occurred several times before, indeed the sniper was almost out of arrows, but what had not occurred was the way the outer beast recoiled from the relatively minor wound it had taken, crying out in guttural agony where before only a great or multitude of blows would prompt such a response.

Beneath the heroic aura, a second one had slipped a subtle knife into the beast’s nerves, cursing their pain to be tripled in intensity.

Another beast was struck moments later, and in an agony filled panic spread wings it had not used till now, and began to try and take flight to flee, only for lightning to crash down from the stormy sky the moment it cleared the rooftops. There was a reason no one was daring the skies today, be it outer beast or beast folk.

Jaxx roared in anger as he effortlessly defended himself and looked into the sky and shouted “LEAVE ME ALONE! STOOOOOP!

Poor Jaxx, not even in what seemed his final moments wasn't left alone. He longed for peace, for silence…yet he wouldn't be getting any. Not as long as Galaxor watched over him. Not as long as the heroic aspect shined its golden aura over Galbar.

After the moment of anger passed, Jaxx continued the slaughter. Slowed down as they were, the outer beasts stood absolutely no chance to survive. Even the most unprepared civilians seemed able to injure the outer beasts, for Jaxx it was less than nothing.

Many of the beasts began to turn and flee as they felt true pain for the first time, but one surfaced above the rest who knew that fear, and was able to face it. It looked old and worn and sacred, as if it had faced many fights despite, from the city’s perspective, the crisis had barely just begun. Stranger still, it was not only flesh, several of its many arms had been severed in battle, and had been replaced with limbs made from a metal unknown to all of this world, inside which gears clicked and whirred.

With these cold hard limbs that flet not a thing, it protected itself from pain, and even when stuck, it endured the wounds with endurance born from true suffering. With scything blades of cold steel it struck down the freshly forged mortal heroes, the heroic aspect’s thumb on the scale being outweighed by the coiled knot of time and the experience wrought from it.

The creature started sprinting towards Jaxx, declaring him the greatest threat, but was soon stopped by the newly made heroes…for about a second or two before its scything blades cut them in half. A shower of blood was all that was left behind it and the broken bodies of any that came in its path.

Even as slowed down as it was by Galaxor's curse, it seemed faster than the rest. More intelligent. Dangerous. And if it wasn't for Jaxx’s heroic foresight, it would've been deadly for him.

The blades came like a whirlwind towards Jaxx who didn't even have time to raise his sword to deflect, only merely pulling himself backwards enough not to be cut in half.

A large slash wound appeared on Jaxx’s chest as blood pooled around his feet.

You look different, creature. Stronger. It'll be an honor to put you down. ” said Jaxx as he tried circling around it as before, only to be met every single time by a blade. It was as if the creature had no blind spots or better said it knew which blind spots it had and how to protect them..

Now that Jaxx knew what to expect, he knew how to defend himself, ‘alas for each other blocked or dodged attack, one would go through. In minutes, Jaxx’s body was filled with cuts, some small while others, like the one on his chest, big and long. It didn’t help that his heroic endurance was slowly reaching its limits. His moves started to become sluggish and his blows barely had any true strength behind them.

It seemed that all was lost once more.

Suddenly, from the street Jaxx had entered through, there came a rumbling and rattling before a goddess’s personal transport flashed out of it… With Lilly at the driver’s helm. With the dock now guarded by soldiers relieved by the beast’s pouring towards this very battlefield, she’d had time to recover her mother’s Buggy, which she now drove headlong towards the beast.

Though an experienced defender, the outer beast had never had to guard itself against something close to its own mass before, and so there was a moment of hesitation that saved the heroes’ lives. Blades came up both to guard its body and to try to skewer the driver, only for Seam to grab the comparatively small goblin woman right before impact, and to then leap out of the vehicle who’s accelerator the goblin had stabbed into the floor using her borrowed knife.

Flightless wings caused enough drag to slow the pair’s fall, while in contrast nothing could slow their runaway machine, which smashed into their foe and practically bowled it over, showering it with splinters for good measure.

Not that the creature was done for. Just as the Buggy was about to hit it, it jumped high up into the sky or as high as it could without getting hit by lightning from above. Still, the Buggy managed to catch two of the blades that weren’t pulled up in time and made the outer beast do a cartwheel in air before plunging into the ground…a crater appearing from the impact with the street.

A nod was all that Jaxx gave his saviors as he tried to run towards the outer beast, hoping to finish it off while it was still stunned…but he couldn’t. After a few hurried steps, Jaxx’s blood loss and obvious exhaustion finally caught up. He slowed down and started using his sword as a cane.

Ki-Ki—Kill it. Fff-aa—s–t. ” was all that he managed to say before collapsing on the floor.

The pair glanced at the legendary hero brought low by mortal limits, then at the beast presently pulling itself out of the wreckage of the buggy, and then like fools they charged. Seam thrust slashed his billhook around in a sweeping blow, while Lilly stabbed out with her new tendrils, only for a blade to block the first blow, and the goblin to scream in pain as her biological weapon was severed by another.

The beast had endured much, a fresh upset was but a lesson to learn, not a reason to fear. The same could not be said of its fellows, who all around it had fallen or were fleeing, beaten by the rats they had cornered, and the indirect hands of their divine patrons. Even so, the beast did not yield, not now, not yet. The insult of injury would be answered with death.

Forward it came, and the pair of heroes found themselves on the defensive, Seam blocking strikes with his billhook while Lilly used ancient wisdom, and new limbs to dodge to and fro. Yet in doing so they lost ground, being driven back towards the hobbled Jax.

From his downward position, Jaxx barely saw what was happening, especially as his vision kept blinking in and out. This was a fight he was happy to have lost, finally, some peace. But wait. If he was about to die, why did the ringing in his mind not stop? Why was it ringing louder and louder? Why did it keep pushing him to act?

Lilly’s scream answered that question as one of her natural weapons flew off. Another blink and now they were closer to Jaxx. Losing ground. They were about to die. From somewhere within him, Jaxx felt the hero call. The power that drives all heroes to do what they do. To fight against any and all opposition in their path to greatness.

Immediately, Jaxx stood up, using his sword to push himself up…even as blood flowed out of him. Blink. He was closer, his hands gripped the sword tightly, making his knuckles white under the strength. Blink. The outer beast was closer, Lily and Seam between him. Blink.

He was behind the outer beast. Why was he behind the outer beast? Blink. Pain. Blink. Blink. Blink. PAIN. Blink. The beast was still fighting Lily and Seam, even as they both sprouted new injuries. Blink. Lifting his…arm? Blink. Where was his arm? Oh. Blink. Why was it on the ground? Blink. What? Blink. Blink. Left arm. No more. Blink. Just a sword and a right arm. It was enough. Blink. JUMP. Slash, slash, dodge. Blink. Blood. Blink. Even more blood. Stab and…blink. Sword stuck into the neck of…something. Blink. Blink. Screaming. Blink. Where? Blink. Pain. Pain. Pain. Blink. Darkness. Silence. Blink. Nothing.

The hero collapsed next to his severed arm as the other two heroes screamed in both horror and fury as they rushed the several wounded beast. Yet it was not done. Or rather it was, but it was done with these gnats, done with this city. Its remaining arms parried their thrusts as it stalked towards the fallen Jaxx, wishing to end him as a last act before it fled with the rest of its kin.

Then it flinched as it heard a familiar rumbling, only this was deeper, louder. Its awareness that had been fixated on this fight glanced outwards, seeing that its kin had in fact already fled, and that something was coming. From another alleyway came another buggy, but this one took up the entire space, and made the beast itself look small by comparison. Atop this machine a goblin with a very large hat screeched orders at an entire team of her fellows, who turned cranks that spun gears which pivoted the muzzle of a ballista mounted atop their war machine at the Beast. A massive wooden bolt then was lossed, taking the beast’s only remaining flesh arm off in the process and pining it to a wall behind it.

With the situation by the docks stabilized, the city had been able to squeeze the armored cavalry past the civilians, and other rumbles drawing made it clear that this wooden tank was only the first. Upon realizing this the beast decided that it had in fact had enough. It abandoned its vengeful stalk and took off at a gallop up the main street, weaving between piles of dead, and then was gone. Beaten, but not broken.

In its wake it left the bodies of fallen heroes be they corpses or crippled, and the dawn of its own legend… and, as Lilly stared sorrowfully at the now one armed Jaxx as a medic stemmed both his and her bleeding, the dawn of an idea.




Up a mountain, just below the storm clouds, on an outcropping overlooking the city below, there sat two gods and a hunk of flesh and blood of the greater outer beast Egrioth. It had had a vast number of purple needles and a small piece of the artifact which Galaxor created earlier, sticking out of it, both these effects faded, along with the storm that had denied mortal and beat-like access to the skies.

A haggard looking Breaker slumped and released a sigh of relief, and declared that “it’s over”

“They won, they won, they won, yipee!” a less drained and much more excited Maiden replaced her older self to cheer, before the Mother took back control and fixed her comrade in arms with an accusatory stare, saying in a rather outraged tone that “I thought you agreed to leave Jaxx alone!”

Of course they won. They had Jaxx with them. That mortal is worthy of his title. Your Lily was interesting too. Tell her good job on achieving herohood from me. She’s earned her title. ” replied Galaxor with a knowing smile before laughing at the Mother’s outburst.

I did agree to leave him alone and I haven’t done anything to him specifically. I just slowed down all the outer beasts. Also, it ain’t as if I can’t stop myself from watching over him. He’s the first self-made hero and my creation. If I wanted to intervene directly, I would’ve sent the Cosmic Destroyer over or just appeared there myself and taken them all out but that isn’t my style. None of them would’ve learned anything if we would’ve saved them. See how many new heroes were made? ” added Galaxor once he stopped laughing before making a 3D map of the Tricity appear with each living being that was now a hero appearing on it like a big golden dot.

“He certainly doesn’t seem to feel left alone is more my concern” the Mother replied, before sighing and saying “well at least he’ll be able to take a bit of a break now that there’s more heroes about. Or need to rather, having lost an arm like that, the poor man. I’ll have to make sure he is well taken care of” or rather she’d help Lilly make sure of that.

It’s the blessing I bestowed upon him that’s bothering him, not me. He received the hero sense and it ain’t an easy burden to bear. It drives you to greatness but…you say goodbye to mundane life and no, he won’t be able to take a break for the same reason. Whenever there are innocents in danger, he’ll feel it. A ringing in his mind will go off and the more he ignores it, the stronger it’ll be. He’s got 3-4 days tops from the moment he’ll wake up until it’ll drive him mad and then he’ll have to go.

The goddess just looked absolutely befuddled as she said “but you put it on.. you made it work like…” and then just demanded to know “why?”

“Doesn’t seem too heroic if he’s forced to do heroic things now does it?” the Breaker pointed out, while the Maiden chimed in to suggest “oooh, we should make him some ear muffs”

In my defense, when I blessed him with it I thought I knew everything there is to know. Now I know that I don’t know anything while also knowing everything. Thing is, he can control it. It’s a skill and any skill can be mastered. He needs to want to learn and there are only two people who can teach him how to use it properly and one of them promised that he won’t meddle with his life anymore. The other person is himself. It takes a lot of work but he can do it. In the future he’ll even be able to locate certain people or objects. ” said Galaxor in an apologetic tone before shaking his head.

He isn’t forced to go into battle each time. He could’ve started painting or crafting or anything else and the ringing would’ve gone away if he truly dedicated himself…yet he chose combat.

“Four days does not seem like a lot of time to entirely change professions, or do much of anything, so it seems I will need to act as the messenger woman for this little tidbit, lest he get himself killed. That man is in no shape to fight anything” the Mother replied, only for the Breaker to chime in “or we can leave him to get himself killed and that’ll be the end of it anyway”

The Maiden however had a concerning thought about that, however, which was “What if it goes with his soul when he reincarnates? Would there be a baby with that ringing in its ears?”

No one said to change professions but he can start trying, it’ll slowly reduce in intensity. No one said anything about fighting, he could help rebuilding or look for people in danger under the rubbles. The hero sense would make him quite efficient at it. ” replied Galaxor, further explaining how his blessing worked.

I never thought about your reincarnation. The blessing is attached to his soul, so…I think so. It would follow him in a different body. But OK. Fine. You’ve convinced me. I’ll give him another blessing. Time slow. It’ll allow him to slow down time around him for a very short period of time. Combined with the heroic foresight, even one-armed he’ll be a force to be reckoned with. ” replied Galaxor to the Maiden.

“It’s something” the Mother conceded “but I’ll still need to keep an eye on him, both as he recovers and in his next life. Hopefully a great need to drink milk will satisfy, and if not I shall deal with the issue somehow”

Or, you can let him follow his path. Just an idea of course. RALK is better than milk, by the way. ” replied Galaxor as he teleported two bottles of RALK in front of them.

“Someone needs to let him know there’s more than one” the Mother replied before blinking and looking confused at whatever this drink was, before responding “Not for babies, surly” as she opened it up, and took a swig, only for her eyes to widen. She drank deep of the gift as the storm clouds above melted away, and the light of the sun shone down upon both them and the city below once more. Only once the bottle was empty, and the skies were clear, did she release the bottle from her lips with a satisfied sigh, and admit “Or you know what, maybe you're right”

Galaxor watched Asheel down the bottle and started laughing, very loudly before stopping and giving her a gentle slap on the back. “Oh’ I know! It’s a godly drink that my GU has. Some small deity gave it to them. Back when I was but a hero and not a god, they called it “Ambrosia”.

The breaker made a little annoyed sound when the Mother swapped her out just before that light slap landed, before the Maiden took over to ask “What was it like, out there, where you were a hero? What kinda stuff did you do?” ever so curious about his past exploits.

Galaxor’s face basically lit up when he was asked to tell about his past exploits, as a few more bottles of RALK appeared before them.

Once upon a time, there was…” Galaxor started and from there, a few days passed as he talked in length about the time he fought a monster that whenever you'd cut its head, two more would appear and a woman who could turn anyone looking in her eyes into stone, while down below in the city only hours passed because time, as its new master well knew, was funny like that.




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Hell in Heaven - Turn 5


Turn 5 has started, please check the MP Spreadsheet for your updated MP counts. Please let me know if any number is off and I'll fix it when I can.

Given that the vast majority of the fronts that opened up with the Outer Beast invasion have been wrapped up, I can announce that the first Transcendental quest has been completed! Rewards will be handed out in an upcoming post!

Enjoy our return to a relatively peaceful world, lads.
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Longsight



There were forty-three of them now. The old had died in the initial chaos and many of the young. They had escaped in every which way, but Firmplough had been able to organise them and set them on the path to Fort Skybreak. Only, there was no Fort Skybreak where they went. There was nothing of anything much at all. Behind them the verdant fields of their homeland disappeared into dust; before them, wastes rolled into wastes and dunes gave way to dunes. The days of their long walk became weeks, the weeks months, and the bodies they left behind them for the beasts that stalked this foreign land only piled up.

It was about that time that Firmplough became Reaper. He had come to heft his large harvesting scythe differently, using it to keep the beasts of the wastes at bay whenever their band happened upon an oasis or managed to dig for water with whatever tools they had brought along. But on that day he did not merely stand guard; he went forth upon a dune, stomach growling, and studied the far horizons. Longsight had run alongside him, closely followed by his friend Badboy. Badboy in turn was followed by Rockpetter, an orphan girl who had grown quite attached to him. Then again, they were all orphans now.

Longsight stood alongside Firmplough, studying the horizons as earnestly as the man, who paid him little heed. The two of them stood like that for long minutes, behind them Badboy squabbling with Rockpetter; she wanted to jump on his back, he wanted to stare seriously beside Longsight. Suddenly, Firmplough leapt forth, scythe raised high, descending the dune with massive strides. He hit the rocky earth beyond at a quick run. Raising his own sharpened stick, Longsight scrambled after him, Badboy and Rockpetter hot on his heels. There was little any of them could do to catch up with Firmplough, however, and they watched in awe as in the distance he brought his scythe down on a lumbering beast not much different from one of those that had attacked their village - only perhaps this one seemed smaller and perhaps not as terrible. When they reached Firmplough, the beast was giving off its final death cries. Longsight skewered it with his makeshift spear for good measure, and before long Firmplough had tied a rope about one of its forelegs and got to dragging it back to camp. No one called him Firmplough after that.

The corpse was brought to Lifedancer, who had been the herbalist in their long-gone home village of Renev. After much prodding, sniffing, and a brave taste of the creature's blood (before very quickly spitting it out), she decreed that it must be bled entirely and all its other offal brought to her that she may ascertain its safety. The rest of it she declared good for consumption if cooked well.
That was the day they ceased to be farmers. The spade no longer merely turned the earth, it dug for water and battered the brains of their prey. The fork was no longer for hay, it was the bane of the beasts of the waste. The hoe, the rake, the mattock, none remained innocent soil kissers - they were blood harvesters now.

But all that was years ago now - three? Four? Longsight did not know. He sat on a dune, Badboy and Rockpetter by him, and he tried to remember what those days before the wastes were like, those days in Renev. It was on his mind like a mirage - all that remained of it was the name they all now carried. Longsight the Renevit, and that was all. In all other ways, he was a son of the wastes.

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Sylia


In Defense of The World





There was only the hot breeze, dry as bone on that sunless day. A great storm was pouring forth from the endless sands that no one ever returned from. Where they sent those that had wronged them, that had broken the sacred vows that bound them all together. But that was before the end times. Before the demons slithered back. The souls they had all damned instead of saved. The elders had decreed it their punishment. The young had ceded power into madness, fighting back only to be killed. The stupid followed. The brave followed. The cowards survived. And that was what he was. A coward. The bundle in his arms mewled as the path into the desiccated village narrowed between two rocks. He pulled back the cloth with a thin hand and was greeted by the smile that kept him going. One that he would always gladly return.

“Pyla,” he cooed, “What have you found to be so funny today?” he asked, beaming down at his small daughter. She was much too small and too lean for one not yet two winters, but such was what they could do when the world was dying. Life had to go on.

Pyla cooed back, squirming her hands out of the tight fold of his wrap. Two grubby hands held out towards him. He smiled again.

“We are almost home, Pyla. We must get this water to your mother you know? Before the sands come in. Bear with me, my child. Just a little longer.” he made his way in between the two rocks. On the other side sat abandoned and desecrated mud huts. Or what he once knew to be homes. How long had it been since the others had gone?

Pyla began to whine in frustration, her half words and baby talk a gurgle of what sounded like anger. For a goblin babe, she would surely half a loud voice. Just like her mother. Even thinking about Kala sent his heart into a spiral. She was very sick and without her, he knew not what he would d-

A steady rumble began, followed by the scurrying of clacking feet across stone. It sent shivers down his spine and he froze. Pyla also quieted, especially when he put his free hand over her mouth. He felt the struggle there within her but he pleaded to his dead gods for aid. Keep the child quiet, just for now and he would do anything.

The clacking feet spurned itself closer as the rumble grew into a steady thrum and he bounded behind a mud wall and in those precious seconds, he felt as if his heart would explode, that he would be caught and Pyla- He looked down to see those giant blue eyes wide with fright. It was a sight that threatened to break him completely but he knew he could not. Her life depended upon his focus. So he peered out behind his wall. That old village had been constructed in a sort of hide away, in a cut underneath a sheer cliff. The other side was a drop off and an overlook, far and wide of the surrounding area. There were only two ways in and out, on opposite sides of the village. His ancestors had used it for generations and now, only his own small family remained. He peered in the opposite way he had come from, the way that was littered with old bones and burnt out huts. The source of the sounds.

The entire cliff face felt like it was vibrating now. Sand and dust began to clog the air. Then came the sounds of thrashing and fighting, the clattering of teeth and great roars. He also sent a prayer for the love of his life to stay where she was, deeper under the cliff. With any luck she would be alright.

He spotted something and ducked, fearing he would be spotted. The noise of running- no, rampaging feet came closer and closer. He clutched Pyla tight to his chest and prayed. Oh, did he pray. Let it pass. Let it go by. Let the earth and the wind be free of all troubles. Let this thing pass. And to his surprise, the things didn’t even stop to sniff the air. To scent his fear. They ran past, followed by more and more feet. He dared a look and wished he hadn’t- Demons of every shape and size, every color and deformity- the stuff of truest nightmares. He looked away and sighed.

They were running past.

Then came a new sound, as the rumbling from the earth grew loudest. The sound of screams. He covered Pyla’s ears, having dropped his bucket. Terrible sounds they were and his daughter trembled, for she and he could feel it in their bones. There came a quick shuffling of feet and a terrible slicing sound as something thudded next to his brick wall.

Then a voice, as clear as day and fierce as sandstorm, broke through the rumbling like an arrow, “Send this infestation into the storm!”

He dared to look again and could hardly believe his eyes when he bore witness to the being of liquid silver, foot upon the corpse of a demon as she pointed at the storm to the giants that now glided past as if they were riding the very earth like some wave. The source of the rumbling?

“You there, goblin man.” the voice said, and he looked to see the imperious gaze of a divine looking back at him. For this was a God, a God of his prayers. He knew it as he knew the very air he breathed and the water he drank.

“You are safe from these fiends, now and forever. You and all mortals have lost much, for my part, we shall never face this threat unprepared ever again. Now live.” And she waved her hand upon him before vanishing. The goblin man blinked hard, finally removing his hands from Pyla’, who he found, was fast asleep.

Not really thinking, perhaps too stunned to even think, he wandered over to the overlook, avoiding the corpses of the creatures. They would have to be burned, he noted. But he almost stumbled when the air in his throat caught. Stretched out before him, across his home, the demons were fleeing, chased by those that rode the earth like a wave. Who fought the creatures that had taken everything from them. Who pushed them back into the desert for their sins. He did not notice the footsteps approaching before someone tackled him. He almost fell over, tears blurring his vision at the sight of his love, mother of his child, looking healthier than ever.

Perhaps the world wasn’t ending after all. Perhaps it was just beginning again.




At the breaking of Sylann's siege, it had been a sight to behold and all those on the wall who bore witness to their Divine marching forth- It was enough to make any weep. The invaders fled under the heel of metal as the hunters became the hunted. What shrieked and destroyed with impudence was now in turn annihilated. On land, in the sky and under the waters. Holes were sealed, gates were enforced, and the enemy fled.

Sylia still led her host, the might of her legions like a great flood washing away filth. Yet, despite it all, even she could not fix what had already been broken, not right away, not instantaneously. The damage had been done to her people. Many had died. Many would be haunted by what the siege cost them. Such wounds ran deep and could not be healed. It would be another task to remedy when the war was over.

For this was war. War between those that called Galbar home and those who sought to defile it. Sylia would not let such foul creatures win. So she barreled forward, cold bloodlust raging in her metal heart.

Her Formed, those beings of metal and power, were her great and terrible swords. The invaders had difficulty adapting any sort of fighting style to combat them. When the very earth turned against you, there became few options. Running away was the greatest of them. Who could stand and fight against a hail of boulders? Great ravines that opened up to swallow those unfortunate enough to fall into crushing depths? Waterways, lakes and even the great ocean became as mud when the Formed passed, choking away anything that could not swim fast enough. Even the skies became choked with dust and rock spikes, launched with precision and cold efficiency. For the Formed were not a host of protectors or shields, they were the hammer that drove the nail in. They would not stop, they could not stop when she led them. And for every Formed that fell, the invaders lost multitudes more. So they chased and fought and chased and fought, pushing the incursion past the great river and skirting the western side of the great basin before spreading out like a great wall that constantly moved south.

The tree was ever shining. A beacon for the defender’s world. Even at their backs.

Eventually they reached the great desert that encompassed the sea of blood, where Sylia knew the incursion had begun. For a vast stretch of land even her own eyes could not see the entirety of, they had swept the land free of the invaders. Now there was only the great push to truly end it. But sand… Sand was a different beast. Until she remembered what Asheel had done once. But unlike Asheel, Sylia went a step further.

From the desert came vast wyrm-like creatures of living metal. Of flowing golds, rusty irons, shining silvers, dull coppers- all the mundane metals of the world. They would thrive upon the desert denizens , forming an equilibrium when their great task was completed. They bowed before her, these troop transports, these steads of terrible wrath. Upon them the Formed went, gliding through the desert and destroying those unlucky few who could not escape until the very air became tinged with crimson. The bite of rust clung in the air as the sand turned to earth once more. At least, what could be considered earth.

What Sylia found there at the bottom of the world, disgusted her. Not some invasion to conquer the world, but a fully fledged settlement stretching all along that bloody ocean. Black was the invader’s structures. Twisted and deformed but with purpose. Chambers to multiply in, to form a new horde in an endless game of invasion. They had built their own wall around these settlements, as if they suspected they would be driven back. It was then that Sylia knew, even as her Formed gathered for their final push, that these things were there to stay. Even if she wiped them out, even if she spent all her time and energy upon it, they would survive like a disease. She would not allow it. Thus, Sylia halted her siege before it even began.

The Goddess of Craft and Metal, knew what she had to do. She already had the blueprint, afterall.

With her newfound grasp upon the nature of earth, Sylia tore the land asunder around the entirety of the blood ocean. Vast swathes of sand and the invader’s filth tumbled into the abyss as the very world quaked with her might. The ocean swirled in giant waves and tsunamis as her greatest work yet came to fruition. Then it came, from the very foundations of Galbar itself. An immense black wall, unlike any that would ever come forth in creation. Rising above mountains and as dense as the very core of the planet. Unbreakable, unshatterable- Nothing and no one would ever be able to get through it. Not by any means other than divine and even then, it would be a feat. One she dared any invader to make. Those great Outer Beasts were just that- beasts. Who were they to stand against her? Sylia willed it so.

Those that could fly would find no purchase for safety against the lack of air, the biting cold and winds. Those that dug deep and tunneled into the roots of the world would find it stretched beyond them, into the very heat of the planet. Natural caves and tunnels formed by Hummus in the beginning were blocked by the wall. To even attempt to climb upon the metallic stone would take months, without rest. Inconceivable. When Galbar at last began to settle, Sylia, drained now for the first time since creation began, placed into the wall a holy site. The only entrance and the only exit, her Watchpoint. Made of silver metal, it sat at the halfway point of the wall’s height and could only be accessed by those that could fly. She would have to come up with a better solution later. For now, she placed half the Formed within to man the installation and keep a watch on the enemy. For they would be the guards of that prison.

And Sylia, the Warden Eternal.




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Sylia

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Attainment




The screams of dying beasts echoed throughout that sun-bleached place, on that too-quiet day. Not even the sands swept over the dunes, for no breeze could vanquish the stifling sun. Indeed, he who cursed would have laughed at any caught out in the heat. Even those who were dying. Especially those. Atop a dune, Longsight lay as still as death, his form half-covered in sand. His eyes were as pinprick as he scanned the wide horizons for movement.

While there was nowhere to hide on those expanding wilds, the beasts out there were quite adept at camouflaging themselves, and so it sometimes required extensive time to spot something. None saw farther than him, no eyes were so sharp - he prided himself on it. Long minutes passed in almost breathless silence. His eyes shifted this way and that, bulging as he held his breath. And then- yes, there. He released his breath in a slow, high-pitched whistle. Behind him, the sand shifted and Reaper emerged, flanked by Greatsaw, Treesbane, Galloper, and Donkeywhacker. Badboy trailed behind them, followed by the stubborn Rockpetter. She had been told repeatedly not to follow the men on hunts, but they might as well have been speaking to a brick wall.

Longsight emerged from under the sand and descended the dune at a scramble. Keeping low, they beelined for the unwary creature in the distance. The party fanned out around Longsight, though Badboy and Rockpetter stayed close, and they swiftly homed in on their prey.

While some of the Renevits had managed to bring their goats along when escaping the carnage that befell their village, the herd was far from sufficient for them all. True enough, goats were hardy creatures and quickly adapted to the harsh climate, but Reaper had quickly understood that they needed other food sources - at the very least until they were able to grow the herd. Then again, it was quite unlikely that they could ever sustain a large herd in such a barren waste.

Still staying low, Longsight tightened his grip on his spear and kept his eyes on their prize. It was a twin-horned creature with three forelegs and three hind legs. What passed for its head was indistinguishable from its chest, and it seemed largely incapable of looking in other directions except by wholly moving its heavily muscled form. It was easily bigger than the biggest bulls Longsight remembered.

The hunting band approached the creature from its blind spot, and Longsight was the first to stand up straight, take three bounding steps, and hurl his spear with force at the beast. It caught it in its hindquarters and the beast immediately let out an ugly snorting, half kicking and half running - or attempting to. The band was very soon upon it. Greatsaw and Treesbane, both lumberjacks once, tore at it with their axes. Galloper, a former horse tamer, stood back and readied his lasso and skilfully launched it so that it settled around both of the creature’s horns. Donkeywhacker, greatstaff in hand - made deadly by the nails jutting out of its head - tore into the snorting beast. Reaper, for his part, brought his great scythe across the creature’s throat (or what passed for it) and the party backed. They would leave it to bleed its poisoned blood out, as Lifedancer had commanded them.

As they watched, Badboy and Rockpetter finally caught up with them. “Argh!” He screamed, throwing his axe to the ground. “Look what you did, Rockpetter! You held me up and I missed all the fun!” He glared at the girl, and she frowned back. “Don’t shout at me!” She shouted, whacking him with her stick, at which he yelped and ducked behind Longsight. “I told you not to come with us! You just slow me down!” He insisted, barely managing to avoid another strike from her, which instead caught Galloper on the buttocks. The bigger man swore, but the girl had already disappeared after Badboy when he looked back.

Another scream broke the triumphant air. This one was farther away and yet… A second later something soared through the air. A dark blot in the clear blue sky, descending with such abandon that none had time to move as it collided with the dune next to them. A great unfurling of sand sprang up into the air and a moment of uneasy silence passed. Nothing moved from where the sand had half covered the dead thing. For it was a dead thing they saw, like a revenant from the past, a true terror that had once ruined lives. A gaping hole lay within its muscled chest. A dipped head drooled with poisoned blood but did not move.

More screams followed from the way of its flight and, suddenly, they were not so alone on that hunt. Several of the same demons were rushing towards them across the dunes. Their gaits became more unnatural and long with every powerful stride. Galloper’s jaw slackened at the sight, and the rope fell from his hand. About him, all the others hefted their weapons and stared in shock and despair at the approaching beasts. “It’s…” Rockpetter whimpered, “it’s the monsters!” Immediately, Galloper’s arm was about her waist as he unceremoniously picked her up and sprinted away, the others all soon on his heels. Reaper and Donkeywhacker formed up the rear, glancing back every few moments to see how close the monsters were.

They noticed then, the brilliant light upon the monster’s heels. Shining like a jewel, so blinding to their eyes if they lingered upon it. It did not just chase the monsters, it was there and then not there. Appearing and disappearing like the stars overhead. Each time it reappeared, black blood stained the sands. Where monsters ran, they fell in heaps for the carrion birds. Until all that remained was the light itself before it vanished once more. There were no more screams. Just carnage upon the dunes.

Then the light was before them, before Galloper and Rockpetter, in such blinding radiance. In one swift stroke, for any to see that braved the light, Galloper was disentangled from Rockpetter and cast aside. The girl was then lifted and held in the air on a phantom wind, the light ever silent as it flared. Galloper grunted as he fell, but before he could turn his head or return to his feet, Badboy had leapt over him. “Oi!” He shouted, swinging his axe above his head, his face twisted in rage, “oi!” Rockpetter, oddly calm, managed to look down at him. She blinked, and suddenly a smile parted her lips. “Hey! What the hell! What the bloody hell! Let her go! I’mma whack you! I’mma crack your head I swear! Let her down!” He flailed his axe about at nothing in particular, in the general vicinity of the almost-blinding light, “you idiot Rockpetter! I told you to stay home, look what you’ve done now!” He shouted. The smile disappeared from the girl’s mouth and she glared down at him.

“Sharrup, idiot!” She screamed, throwing her stick down at him. It hit him right on the head and he yelped and ducked down, dropping his axe and holding his head. Behind him, Galloper had gotten to his feet and had been joined by all the others, who stared quizzically and fearfully at the manner Rockpetter was suspended in the air. It was Reaper who stepped forth at last, scythe raised before him in surrender. “Whatever you are, please,” he said, placing the scythe before him on the rocky earth and descending to his knees, “I beg of you, don’t hurt her.” Behind him, Donkeywhacker gulped and did the same, and slowly all but Longsight and Badboy had descended to their knees. Longsight frowned, though looked downward for a lack of ability to stare into the glaring light. Badboy, recovered from Rockpetter’s attack, returned towards the light and flailed his axe, screaming to let her go.

His axe turned to dust in his hand. His jaw slackened in shock. “I almost mistook you,” A rich voice began, “For those that came from beyond. Even now that filth lingers in your systems but,” Rockpetter was lowered to the sands, “Your kind were created here. For what purpose?” As the question rang out, the radiance of the light subsided just a fraction. Enough to look at it and not be blinded completely. Rockpetter, still oddly unperturbed, looked at the odd light and smiled. Then, with purpose, she walked up to the yet-shocked Badboy and wrapped her arms around him adoringly. He flinched, drawn from his reverie, harrumphed, and attempted with futility to release himself from her.

Reaper looked upon the creature of light. Though no longer blinding, nothing much could be distinguished of it but pure light. “We are not from here, no. But we have been here a long time - many years, I’d guess. We come from Renev, a village in the shielding of Lord Quickblade of Fort Skybreak. We… lost our way, I think. Though how, I don’t understand. It makes no sense.” He gulped, cleared his throat, and looked more closely at the creature, “We did not mean to trespass, and we only ate of those because we had to. F-forgive us if we have erred.” He lowered his head to the earth, prostrating himself in apology, and the other men did the same.

The light shimmered once and then the intensity faded altogether, revealing the tall figure of a naked woman, yet not quite so. She was made entirely of some sort of shimmering silver that flowed and rippled about her muscular form. Everything about her was perfectly symmetrical, almost unnervingly so and there was something else. Not just the piercing eyes that looked over them but a strange energy. One that sent their senses to alertness.

“Gone I was, from these lands, fighting the Great War.” The woman spoke, her imperious gaze never faltering. “Such as it is, I am unfamiliar with what you seek but these wastes are not for the faint of heart. Go that way,” She pointed, “And you will find greener pastures. The threat of the incursion is over and the creatures it brought are swept away. Save for those that yet needed hunting. Soon these deserts will become wholly unwelcoming, until at last they are changed.”

Longsight glanced in the direction the strange woman of metal pointed, and the men did the same. The boy looked back at the stranger. “Who are you?” Longsight asked, “and if you are so familiar with this place, and so mighty too, how is it that you don’t know of Fort Skybreak? We wish to go there, there’s no doubt that any family we have went there for shelter!” The boy took a step forth even as the men raised themselves to their knees and grunted in agreement. Before he could speak more, however, Reaper caught him by the hand and got up. “Forgive the boy if he speaks passionately, my lady. But… he speaks truthfully. We seek after our people, and there is no doubt that any who survived are at the fort. We would be eternally grateful to you if you were able to show us the way - we want nothing more than to be reunited with our families and loved ones.”

The woman tilted her head as she looked at Longsight. “You see much but are blind, child.” Her unblinking gaze moved away from him and back to Reaper. “Passion is often akin to discovery. I have discovered tolerance. Yet I can extend it only so far. If any speak out of turn again, they will lose their voice. I shall not talk with children.” She looked over them again. “Remember this name, for I am Sylia. Goddess of the earth, its metals, and the tools that work them. I have given to you an act of kindness, in saving your lives from the demons. To give more would be to take something from you. What would you give to one such as me? What is the price of your love and happiness?”

Reaper swallowed uneasily and glanced at the others. “We are grateful, g-great goddess. We have tilled the earth and sung your name to the heavens harvest after harvest for endless aeons. Lowly peasants such as we have nothing to give but our gratefulness - we cannot presume to have anything our goddess needs that we should give it… and were we to have such a thing we would give it freely, out of love, and ask only great Sylia’s pleasure. Glory is yours, lady of the soil, we kiss the earth that is you!” And so saying, he brought his head low again, his lips to the ground, and the others did the same.

Longsight remained stubbornly upright until Reaper’s hand brought him crashing into the earth. Seeing this, both Badboy and Rockpetter - who were closest to the goddess - descended to their knees and gazed at the great being in fear and suppliance. “In times gone, my lady, these tools - the very tools you taught our distant ancestors to craft - were made to kiss the soil. My heart weeps, great goddess, for we have profaned them with adulterated blood.” Reaper’s lip trembled against the rock and sand, “we have made profane what you granted us pure. We are shamed before you and disgraced, and still you protect us.” Tears wet the sand, and behind him Donkeywhacker’s body heaved as tears gushed from his eyes too. “FORGIVE US!” The big man wailed, pressing his face into the sand.

“My realm is not of the harvest.” She chided in a softer voice. “Nor do I ever remember teaching your kind. How great lies are weaved through the webs of time. In fact, you have never even heard of my name until this very moment, yet still you prostrate before me?” A mocking laugh escaped her lips, “Tell me true, for this is what I shall take from you, is it fear that compels your action at this very moment or have you been so misguided that you do indeed believe yourselves needing forgiveness?”

Reaper raised his head, eyebrows furrowed, and the others did the same. Longsight took the opportunity to leap to his feet. “See! It’s no goddess! It’s nothing but an imposter! Get to your feet! We’re peasants no more and the lady of the earth has long abandoned us in any case - I’ll not grovel to some demon! I’ll die and not grovel! Get up Badboy, you’re no groveller!” Longsight grabbed Reaper’s scythe before the bigger man could stop him and hurled himself at the silver lady. Though visibly fearful, Badboy leapt to his feet likewise and took up Rockpetter’s stick. “To shit with monsters!” Badboy cried and swung with all his strength even as Longsight arced the scythe for the monster-woman’s torso. Behind him, the men shouted a mixture of profanities at the two boys and implorations that the goddess forgive them.

A sad smile crossed her lips and as the two weapons struck the demon, there came a blinding flash of light. When the light faded, one moment they had been there and the next, they were gone.



There came a sudden lurch in time. One moment they had been in a blinding desert, the next, in the cold dark. Not a sound was heard. Longsight stood still, his eyes wide and attempting to adapt to the all-too-sudden darkness. He swallowed, gripping the scythe tightly, his ears straining for any sound. He heard nothing, however, and struggled to maintain his balance as the entire world shifted and lurched about him. “If you’re going to kill me, demon, then be done with it. I’m not your plaything.” After a moment, a response came. “Longsight?” Badboy’s voice came from not too far away. Longsight unsteadily made for the sound. “Badboy? I’m here.” He scrambled in the darkness until his hand found the other’s forearm. “Bloody hell,” Badboy said, “I think we’re in the shit.”

Longsight kept his hand on the other in the darkness and nervously hefted the heavy scythe, his heart pounding. “You could say that again.” He whispered morosely.

A light flickered to life in the distance and then the world lurched and they were falling towards the light. Faster and faster until all at once the world came to stop and the light was everywhere. So too was the demon. She stood before them, feet planted in the very air before the ledge their own two feet were. The air bled away into a distant blob of crimson. Rust and decay washed over the two, the smell permeating the very essence of the air.

“I shall give you,” The demon woman began, “one chance.” She folded her arms behind her back. “To attack a divine is paramount to death. I am not beyond mercy, however. Apologise, and I shall send you back to your family. You can see what awaits you if you do not.” The two boys retched at the smell and keeled over as though on the receiving end of a body blow. An attempt to take a deep breath, to clear their lungs of the stench, only worsened it and they coughed compulsively. Longsight, who was usually silent, found his tongue first - and his anger.

“You- you attacked us. We were fine without you. You were never there when we needed you! We fended for ourselves and protected ourselves! We never needed you. You will get no thanks from me and no apology. But if you wish, you can apologise. You are strong aren’t you - mighty and great, fighting all your great wars. Nothing great enough in Renev for you to save right?” His eyes teared up at the corners, but he did not cry - there was some pride in him, the harshness of the desert had given him more backbone than a peasant would normally need. Perhaps too much. “The wastes you so kindly wish to see us from are my home now. If all you see in us are faint hearts then you should see better - no one’s blind here but you.” There was bitterness in his voice, hatred, anger - he was weak, he could do nothing against this demon, goddess, whatever it was. But he had a tongue, he had spite, he could hurt it if it was the last thing he did.
The Goddess tilted her head. “One day you shall see, Longsight of Renev and when you do, you will understand.” She straightened herself and turned her back to them. With an outstretched hand, she explained, “This prison shall now be your own. A sentence I give in lieu of death. For five summers your only prerogative is thus- Survive. Oh and lest I forget…” She snapped her fingers. “I shall return your voices when you are free. Goodbye.”

The Goddess vanished before them and so too did that ledge. They fell and fell unable to scream as they plummeted into the depths of the prison. When the ground neared their descent abruptly halted and they were cast upon a beach of black sand. Behind them stood hell itself and before them… Two shining weapons. The one before Badboy was a great elaborate club-sword, beaten to flatness and with sharpened black blades jutting viciously from its edges. Badboy looked at it in wonder and was very quick to heft it. It was big for his form, and yet he swung it as easily as if it were a Rockpetter’s stick. Longsight glanced at Badboy, and then more cautiously at the remaining weapon. It was a great metallic war hammer, the hammer large and flat on one side and elongating into a sharp pick-like spike on the other. He approached and hefted it, and was immediately surprised - as Badboy had been before him - but the lightness. So surprised was he, in fact, that he dropped it. It landed on the ground with a heavy thud, sinking into the black sand. He was quick to pick it up again, eyebrows furrowed at the strange daemonic magicks that no doubt permeated the weapon, causing it to be so heavy when falling yet so light in his hands.

He looked from the black shore and its red waters away into the distance, where an equally black wall rose to the heavens. Hefting his war hammer, he snapped a finger at Badboy - who was still awed by his sword-club - and both boys got to walking. Five years. Five years of walking. Longsight swallowed uneasily. If anything, it would teach him to shut the bloody hell up.

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