AdorableSaucer

Divinus: The God RP, Mk. IV

Gibbou

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It had taken roughly thirty minutes or so for Gibbou to stop crying. The grove had lost its neat magical sheen, and now it looked about as dull and sad as the rest of the fen. Thinking about it again once more made Gibbou’s nose sting, but she had wept herself so dry her eyes looked like overripe plums. She gave a stiff sniff and patted her shoulder blindly.

“Hey… Adrian, are you there?” she mumbled in a cracked voice.

"Ye- yeah!" Adrian's voice came out as a struggle -- the little thumbling's face was hidden behind a massive pile of houllin berries caught in his arms. He dumped them at Gibbou's feet and patted his hands free of dust.

The moon goddess offered him a weak smile and gave another sniff. “So… Packed and ready, huh? It’ll be a long flight.”

"Not quite ready, Blue," Adrian rubbed his nose with his arm, "You're gonna need some pockets."

“Blue, huh. I should give you a nickname, too, y’know.” She patted her hips on both sides. Pockets subsequently sprouted by the rim of her midnight pants she had touched. She knelt down and shoveled some berries into the left one. “How about… Addy?”

"Hmm." Adrian hummed as he climbed up Gibbou's right leg, a bundle of bedding and tiny tools tied to his back with some blue hair. He threw his bundle into the Goddesses right pocket and slipped in himself. There was a slight rustling as everything fell into place and then a tiny:

"Yeah that works, though my sister's name is Addy."

“Oh, that’s cause some confusion if she was around, huh…” Gibbou slowly stood up and stretched her arms over her head. “Are you okay down there?”

"Almost..." Adrian said passively. There was some more rustling and then finally a tiny bark sign threaded into the pocket with primitive fibers was flipped out of the pocket so as to hand at the entrance. On it was an imprint of Adrian's hand in blue. He poked his head out, "Happy as home."

Gibbou leaned over so she could see him better and giggled. “That’s amazing, truly. Alright,” she did some standing calf raises, “make sure to stay put during the whole journey. If you feel yourself getting sick, uncomfortable or about to fall out, make sure to tell me to stop, okay?”

"I'll poke you with this,' he held up a particularly menacing pine needle.

Gibbou made a face. “Be nice, please.” She then hopped back a few steps. “Get ready…” She began jogging, testing the bounciness of the fen moss. “... Seeet…”

"I'm always niiiiii--!"

Adrian was interrupted as she kicked off and rocketed into the air westwards, shouting “GOOOOOOOO!” as her body was encapsulated in the whitish blue light of a shooting star. The pair soared across the land, occasionally spying downwards at the enormously diverse continent underneath them. Gibbou clapped her hands in celebration at the sights, pointing to the various new biomes that had formed during her time with the thumblings.

“Look! Look! That shiny place over there! That has to be my sister’s! WOO! Go, Oraelia!” she boasted while gesturing madly to the Luminant far, far to the south, viewable still in the dark of the night.

A tiny fist raised out of her pocket, forming a thumbs up and a muffled response. Gibbou giggled and landed on a Black Rock peak for a second before jumping back off towards the southwest. She blinked down at the shoreline and gave her head a scratch.

“When did those reefs pop up? Has Mr. Klaar been wanting to move ashore?” Not too long after, she noticed a spot on the sea like a hot coal. Her brows furrowed - it looked inhospitable to life. “Ugh, why do people have to make such nasty places? Adrian, are you seeing this?”

Adrian poked his head out and gave an agreeing nod, "Looks like a lot of places are missing the Golden Light."

“Yeah… The Light would certainly fix it up.” She sighed. “I’m sorry again. I messed up so badly for you and your people.”

"It's okay," Adrian patted her hip, "No thumbling is without a mistake or two -- besides, Elder said the Golden Light will return someday. Uncle Gary doesn't think so, and my old neighbor Ruth didn't seem to really understand what happened, but..." He took a nibble of a Houllin berry he stashed away, and politely swallowed. "But most of us seemed to understand and I don't think anyone can really blame you if it was already said by the gate that it was going to happen. But for now I guess we have to be our own Golden Light."

“You thumblings really are something,” Gibbou sighed thankfully and looked up. A distant landmass was approaching, and over her shoulder, she could see the hard, searing rays of the sun. Her divine eyes noticed that there were a number of deep crevices and canyons on the continent. “We’ll hide from the day down there!” she declared and changed their trajectory downwards.

"Whoop!" Adrian interjected at the sudden change of winds buffeting his face. He slunk back into her pocket and out of sight. With her divine ears she could still hear him, "Hey Blue?" There was a sense of concern laced in his usually cheery voice.

“Hmm? Yeah?” Gibbou mumbled passively as she eyed the canyon around them up and down.

"I don't think the Golden Light splitting was entirely your fault anyways," Adrian added before rustling around in her pocket. There was a hum and a sudden change of topic, "Are you the tallest thumbling in your family?"

“Oh… Thanks,” she answered softly, flashing a sad smile. The following comment made it genuine, though, and she failed to swallow a giggle, resulting in a few snorts, as well. “Haha, oh, Adrian, I’ve told you before, right? I’m a goddess - it’s kind of, like… Not a thumbling, y’know?” She gave the question an additional ponder. “I do think I’m taller than my sister, though.”

"You heard the elder; you're a thumbling through and through, just tall and blue," Adrian poked her. "Goddess or not."

“Eh-heh. Thanks, Adrian, that helps. Say, you’re sure about coming along, right? You aren’t feeling homesick or anything?”

"Nah," the answer was shorter and quicker than most, "let's keep going."

“Sure.” The pair subsequently followed the length of the canyon, remaining in its deep shade even as the sun above began to bake the surface.

"Hey, Gibs?" Adrian poke his head out of her pocket.

“Hmm?”

"Ya think I could get a pair of pants and shirt sometime?" He scratched at his leaf made clothes, "Seems a bit less 'chaffing'"

“Oh! Right, sorry about that.” She snapped her fingers and, surely enough, a pair of tiny pantaloons and a white, threaded-up shirt appeared in her hand, as well as a small pair of sandals. She held them down to her pocket for Adrian to grab. His tiny hands snatched them up and in moments he was hanging out of her pocket by the waist, showcasing his new shirt.

"Ta-da!"

Gibbou took one look and burst out laughing. She cackled to the extent that she had to support herself against the wall of stone. She gave a few snorts as she tried to steady her breathing and gave her face a rub with her palm. She leaned her back against the wall and lowered herself down to a seated position with a wheezy sigh.

“Oh, you’re just too sweet.”

"I'm not the one walkin' around lookin' like a houllin berry," Adrian played with the collar of his shirt, "but I do have to agree with ya."

Gibbou lifted her head up and eyed the blue sky. “Yeah… Speaking of berries, though…” She looked around the canyon crevices and even by the small waterways that ran through the crag centres. Theirs was a particularly dark crag. “This place is pretty empty, huh.”

Adrian hopped out of Gibbou's pocket and paced around the blank rock, "Very empty, and monocolor."

Gibbou approached the water, rolled up the legs of her trousers and gave her feet a little dip. “Suppose I could add some.”

"Make it purple!" Adrian suggested, "Whatever it is we are making. OH WITH YELLOW STREAKS."

“Alright, alright,” Gibbou soothed and stood up, feet still in the water. Drumming her cheek ponderously with a finger, she walked over to a stalagmite in the middle of the little waterway and grabbed tightly onto its shadow. Then, pulling roughly, she snatched herself a nice circular sheet of shadow. The stalagmite had, for a moment, an uncannily bright spot where the shadow had been, before it healed shut again. Gibbou filled the shadow skin with water and tied it into a ball. She then walked out of the water over to a huge boulder. She lifted it up and placed the shadow ball underneath it. As she dropped the stone, the bag went ‘pop!’ However, the shadow and water didn’t flow outwards, but covered instead the whole stone in a black shroud. While it was incredibly hard to see, the shroud revealed that the stone was being broken apart and ground up within the shroud. Then, the shroud itself went pop and unleashed a sea of small, purple geckos with yellow tiger stripes. They immediately scurried in every direction in search of food, and Gibbou made certain to keep Adrian safe as they passed by them.

Joining the commotion all of a sudden was a hungry legged shark. Gibbou screamed as it jumped out of the water, ready to snatch a piece of her (or try to, anyway). However, before it could truly leave the waterway, it keeled forward suddenly, smashing face-first into the ground. Crawling on top of it curiously was one of the geckos, its lethargic stillness occasionally being interrupted by a few nibs and gnaws at the tough sharkskin. Gibbou sighed in relief and loosened her protective grip on Adrian.

“Their bite contains a powerful sleeping agent. I reckoned that was the most humane way of killing something - so, you know, they wouldn’t feel it! I’ll call them Nightsnappers.” She eyed the shark curiously. “Although… Maybe we haven’t explored all these canyons have to offer yet.”

"Hm." Adrian rested his elbows on Gibbou's hand as she held him like a doll, "We should take a look around, who knows. Maybe we will find something me-sized and fun."

Gibbou nodded and deposited Adrian on her shoulder. Then, she slowly began to climb out of the dark crevice. The sun was stronger up here where they came out, but not unbearable yet. In fact, Gibbou found its light almost comfortable. Here, the cold stone similar to that of the crag below was thickly clothed in trees and shrubs growing out of the walls; from these trees, some of which formed great arches to roof the crag, hung vines which drank from the salty waters below; the waterway which had been almost barren down there was here a teeming pool of plants, fish and birds. If she squinted, she could occasionally spot the odd shark fin lurking just above the water surface between thickly growing reeds.

Gibbou gasped and clasped her hands over her mouth. “It’s beautiful,” she whispered intensely.

"Reminds me a little of home, if not more," Adrian made a motion, "Varied." He thought to himself, "You know what it is missing though?"

“What?”

"Mushrooms," Adrian snapped his fingers, but nothing happened. He frowned, "Guess this one is on you again... How do you do that anyways?"

Gibbou blinked and started looking around for a sufficiently moist spot where mushrooms could properly grow. “Huh… Haven’t really thought about it much, to be honest. I kinda, y’know, think about something really hard and then, poof!” To illustrate her point, she conjured forth a truffle. “They sort of just appear. By the way, you can have this.” She offered him the truffle as she dove in under a low cave entrance into a small water reservoir.

Adrian took the truffle and nodded slowly. A solemn look came over his face, "So I've done that once, then."

“Hmm?” she hummed passively as she probed the air inside for its moisture content.

"Well..." Adrian rubbed the back of his head. He paused, "Gibs, remember when I said the Golden Light splitting wasn't entirely your fault?"

Gibbou eyed Adrian on her shoulder to the best of her ability and crossed her arms over her chest defensively. “Yeah?”

"Ah," Adrian stuttered, "Well, nah I'll tell you later. We are busy, right? Makin' stuff."

Gibbou pursed her lips in light disappointment and then nodded. “Yeah, alright--"

"Alright fine -- I'll tell you," Adrian cut her off, "Well remember when that troll snatched me and it was all scary and we had no idea what was going to happen?"

“Uh-huh?”

"I thought of all the terrible things I wished I could do to it," Adrian admitted, "I wanted to punish it... Then when I saw the light following us, I asked it to. I asked it to and I heard a voice. It did what I asked but at... But at the cost of peace." Adrian hung his head, "it was my fault."

Gibbou dropped her arms to her side and stared in disbelief. “What… What’re you saying? Are you saying you asked the Light to punish the askeladd in exchange for the loss of the harmonious existence in the garden?” She lifted Adrian off her shoulder and cupped him in her palms. “Adrian, how could you do such a thing?”

"Well no!" Adrian defended himself, "I would never ask the Light to leave the grove. It wasn't even... It was just anger and the light responded with its own. It was just a thought, just an emotion and then suddenly." He paused, "Joab-Balaam."

“Joe-ab-whatnow?”

"It's the name of the fragment that was left behind," Adrian explained, "I didn't want to say it before... And even now saying it gives me the feeling that it is suddenly close."

Gibbou hunkered together slightly and sat down up against the wall of the cave. “You mean… This Joab-Balaam is around here? Did it follow us? Is it…” She eyed the surroundings accusingly and whispered, “It’s a god, isn’t it?”

"It's angry," Adrian whispered, "Very angry."

“Sunlight,” Gibbou cursed. “Just what the world needed - an angry god.” She groaned and stood up. “You haven’t wished for anything else, have you?”

"Uh," Adrian cleared his throat, "Well that's a little personal, isn't it?"

“Relating to this angry god, Adrian,” Gibbou sighed. Meanwhile, she crawled back out of the cave and back towards the dark ravine they had arrived in first. She had a sneaking suspicion. Adrian clung quietly to Gibbou, clearly ashamed.

When they finally descended back into the crevice, where little light could reach and thus next to nothing grew, they saw a few nightsnappers lick suspiciously at something that hadn’t been there before.

There with grotesque pain painted on its face was a statue of salt in the shape of the landshark.

Adrian shuddered, and then suddenly: "Look!" He pointed to a crack in the wall but there was nothing there. His finger drooped, "I coulda sworn I saw it."

Gibbou stormed over to the wall and placed her hand on it, blasting a tunnel deep into the mountain. The ground quaked as stone was reduced to dust that blew away on the wind, but alas, nothing was inside. The moon goddess grit her teeth and walked over to the statue, placing her hand on it somberly. “It was only doing its part in the cycle of life… Now it can’t even feed the vultures and fungi.” She drew a furious breath. “Who would do such a thing to such a creature? To the ecosystem?”

"Do you think we can fix it?" Adrian asked, "If it is a part of the Golden Light... Do you think we can make it like how it used to be?"

“I… I don’t know. It’s salt all the way through, but… I might be able to do something else for it.” She placed her hand on the salt statue’s head and breathed in deep. The salt began to crack and crumble, drizzling and collapsing down on the ground. Once the statue was reduced to a large pile, the salt began to move. A few curious nightsnappers scurried over to inspect it - one tried to lick at the moving salt. Then, a claw emerged to snap at the tongue, and the nightsnappers retreated immediately. The salt pile began to collapse in on itself as swarms of small, round, white crabs all emerged with snapping clippers. Most of them entered the waterway and followed the stream deeper into the canyon.

“These are saltcrabs. I figured since the waters here are already salty, and that this may not be the first statue of its kind we’ll see here, I made a creature that can sustain itself off of salt and seawater. Then it can be eaten and contribute to the cycle of life once more.” She gave one of the crabs a curious look, picked it up and ran her finger down its back. She gave her finger a lick and frowned. “... Well, edible given that you have a lot of water to filter out the salt taste…”

"Very clever," Adrian nodded with respect, "but I meant the source of the problem; the Light that we broke. I mean it used to be very peaceful and now... This. It's completely different."

“Oh, the Light’s what you meant.” Gibbou put the crab down with an overt hint of embarrassment on her plum-coloured face. “W-well… I could try to convince him if we got in touch, but… I dunno, it might not listen to a fellow goddess.” She hummed. “It could be more inclined to listen to the prayers of mortalkind - after all, that’s what we live to protect, right?”

"Well we gotta try something... Right?"

“Yeah!” Gibbou agreed and jumped back up to the “sunlit” area. There, she did a roundhouse kick, whipping up a great deal of dust in the process. The kick blasted the dust forward to form a canvas-like cloud before them. In the span of a few seconds, Gibbou materialised an enormous brush from bits and pieces of the midnight making up her clothing and painted two humanoid shapes in black on the dust canvas. Once the figures were done, she let out a ‘woosh’-sound as she slapped the canvas away with a strike like a hurricane. The dust travelled all around the area, spawning more shapes as it went on. Around two hundred shapes made a small crowd before Gibbou and Adrian. Gibbou smirked and snapped her fingers. The black around the shapes went ‘poof!’ and the next second, two hundred humanoids, seemingly male and female, with skin like plums, grapes and blueberries, eyes like quartz and hair like midnight, stood blinking in wild confusion at what just happened.

"That's a LOT of berries," Adrian murmured in awe.

Gibbou gasped. “They’re so beautiful! Eeeek!” she squealed happily. The creatures screamed back and immediately tossed themselves behind whatever cover they could find. Gibbou jumped back at their reaction. “Woah! Hey! No need to be scared! I’m not gonna hurt you.”

"This time!" Adrian added with a mocking growl while nudging Gibbou and laughing. The excitement was replaced with curiosity, "but uh... Whatcha do? How is this going to help? What's the plan, Blue?"

“Well, uh… Was thinking that they could petition this Joab-Balaam about, maybe, putting aside their wicked deeds and, y’know, return to being the Light?” She gave a shrug. “No, you’re right, it’s a terrible plan.”

"I didn't say that," Adrian gave a reassuring smile, "It is worth a shot, after all The Light seemed to care deeply for all life before, maybe new life will be what it needs."

“My thoughts exactly,” Gibbou assured, her vigour reignited. Proudly, she strolled over towards the creatures, who were hunkering even tighter together behind their cover. She then knelt down next to the closest rock, where a group of five were covering themselves as if shelled from above. A few of them were crying, even. Gibbou gasped quietly and whispered to them, “Hey, hey - it’s alright. Why don’t you come out, hmm? I’m not going to hurt you, I promise.”

Slowly, but surely, the creatures eased up on the tension, looking up at Gibbou’s smiling face with eyes like the shining moon. The corner of Gibbou’s mouth twitched, but she choked to death any urge to celebrate her achievement of making these beautiful creatures. Gently, she led the group of five out in the open, and after a while, more peeked out from behind their rocks to follow. Sunset was approaching above, and already it was getting hard to see down in the canyon. Of course, this only served to calm the creatures, who already now seemed much more at ease with the world. Quiet mumblings arose within the crowd, followed by gasps as the creatures realised they could communicate. Gibbou chuckled proudly and clapped her hands to gain their attention. The creatures turned to her.

“Okay, sorry to interrupt the lovely conversation, but I feel like I owe you all an apology! I created you in such a rush and didn’t give you the time to adjust to life before I interrupted you. I’m really sorry about that.”

Mumblings once more bubbled through the crowd. “Who are you?” came a question from the back.

“Why, I am Gibbou, goddess of the moon! Oraelia’s my sister and I am your maker.” She sighed happily. “Oh, you are all just so beautiful! Oh, I’m sorry, I know it’s inappropriate to say, but… Oh, I just can’t help it!” She picked up a nearby child who was sucking its thumb and danced around with it as it screamed and cried in her arms. “Beau-ti-ful, beau-ti-ful!” The crowd stared in disbelief and the mother stood there with shaking hands and a quivering lip.

"And I'M Adrian," Adrian gave Gibbou a glance. Out of the corner of his mouth he whispered into her ear, "Blue, stay focused. Putting a God back together, remember."

“Oh! Right!” Gibbou put down the child, who ran screaming back to its mother. The whole crowd seemed to shrink away. Gibbou cleared her throat and put her smile back on. “Alright, so… I have a mission for you all.” The crowd further retracted. Gibbou blinked. “Uhm… I, I need you help?”

“Why should we help you?!” came the mother’s cry, backed up by a chorus of “yeahs!”

Gibbou stood dumbfounded. “Be-... Because I asked? Hold on, is that not how this works?”

“You frighten us, yell at us and then try to steal my baby! You are a monster!”

“Yeah, a monster!” the crowd echoed.

Gibbou found her nose feeling that familiar sting, and her eyes welled up with chalk-white tears again. “I… I didn’t mean it! I just thought… You were all so sweet and, and, and… Oh, Adrian, I messed up again!” She squatted down, facing away from the crowd, and began to sob.

"Hold my hat," Adrian said with a determined face. He swung the hat onto the curve of Gibbou's ear and leapt off her shoulder.

He landed with a poof of dust, that menacing pine needle in his hand. Standing between the lone Goddess and crowd of mortals he brandished the needle like a stabbing sword, "That wasn't very nice! You should all apologise to the poor lady. Shame!"

As he spoke, wisps of light began to snake in from the darkness and unseen crevices. The creatures all grew wary at the sight, their sensitive eyes easily picking up the creeping light. Careful whispers pittered and pattered between the many heads until one stepped forward and crossed his arms over his chest, glaring down at Adrian: “Why should we?”

Adrian let the needle droop to the ground as his voice lost its stiffness, "I don't know, because you're being a real prick?" He winked at the point of his weapon.

The man blinked, then grit his teeth furiously. “Why, I never--... Come here, you little--!” He stomped towards the thumbling.

"Wait." A different elf suddenly piped up, her voice one of concern. She focused as if listening to something beyond quiet, a gentle horror behind her eyes. "Do not..." She concentrated hard, "...do not approach this thumbling. It has been decreed that all mortal life which harms this being shall be punished or destroyed." The horror didn't end as her voice picked up volume, "So says. The child of night will be brought to light; he will bring the end." Her words sped up, "He will begin again. Know him by the white of his eye and the purity of his soul. Know him by the way he sees new where there was old. Know him by the door he opens where no one can. Know him by the year of his birth, when sky rains with sand. He will begin again or forever will remain the end."

The crowd was shocked and there was an uncomfortable pause before the woman's voice boomed again. "First notice the line across the ground, then hear these next words and be bound."

A golden light suddenly carved a violent line between Adrian and the stomping man, causing them both to recoil.

"It is in first decree, that no word shall be greater than Joab-Balaam's and thus Joab-Balaam's shall be first and final in all matters. The word now is a lesson." The woman was whimpering but her tongue kept spouting.

Gibbou stood frozen. “Wh-what the… Get away from her!” She encased her fists in orbs as black as the night and glared all around in search of something tangible.

"Know this line," The woman pointed back at the line, "And know that on one side Joab-Balaam is your protector, your guardian." A light engulfed Adrian. "And to those who cross it and transgress Joab-Balaam, Joab-Balaam is your punishment. Know this line as dogma, and know not to transgress it. This is Joab-Balaam's first lesson."

A sudden howl of wind sounded and the woman fell silent. Her eyed scanned the crowd, suddenly bursting into tears, "I see so much..." She babbled.

The crowd surrounded her, then parted as Gibbou shoved herself over to her. In her hand, she held a clay cup filled with some chalky water. She knelt down and offered it to the woman. “H-here… It’ll calm you down.”

“What are you giving her?” a nearby man asked suspiciously.
8l
“Don’t worry - it won’t harm her. In fact, I hope it’ll help her calm down a bit.” She paused. “Actually, how about you all have a drink, hmm?” She thumbed over her shoulder at a small clay well that had formed behind them in a spot that seemed to align perfectly with the trajectory of the moon above. The well seemed to slowly fill with more of the chalky water as the moon’s beams washed over it. Gibbou took a sip of the drink herself as to show the crowd it was harmless. “I call it respirit. It concentrates the peace of the moon’s passing into a drink. Go on - tastes like blueberries.”

Adrian hopped over (after carefully circumventing the line), his presence causing a few of the elves to scatter from his path. He climbed up to Gibbou's shoulder as the elven woman drank and snagged his hat.

"Sorry about the commotion," He discretely whispered into Gibbou's ear.

“Don’t worry about it… I hate to say it, but your commotion got their mind off of being angry at me,” she whispered back. “Well, I suppose we now know what the Joab-Balaam is now… And knowing makes me even less confident that we can bring the Light back as it was.” Gibbou sat down properly and let the woman rest her fatigued body against her chest, gently caressing her creation. “And now, well, we have to take care of these.”

"We have to fix the Light though," Adrian sat down, clearing a spot of her hair, "We caused this."

“Sure, but it won’t change overnight, I think.” Gibbou materialised a cup and offered it to a bypassing girl. It was now late in the evening and the sun had set. The only visible parts of the creatures now were the sheen of their eyes - the rest was neatly camouflaged in the darkness. Gibbou smiled at them all with the same glitter in her own eyes and waved over someone else to care take of the woman on her lap. Once a substitute had been found, she slowly rose up and gave her head a scratch, making sure not to flick Adrian away. “I may need some time to think about a solution. I think we’ll head to my home and--...” She paused, her voice shifting towards a somber alto. “... Actually, I don’t think I can bring you there. It’s apparently cold and airless up there.” She fished out some houllin berries from her pocket and began distributing them around to the creatures, some having already gone to scavenge for food and look for shelter. “Could I entrust you to watch over these people while I’m gone?”

"Oh," Adrian's voice sounded disappointed, "Yeah I can do that for ya, Blue." He patted her shoulder, "Guess I'm pretty safe anyways, whether I like it or not."

"Yeah," she sighed and handed off the last of her berries to a small family of four. "By the way, I think I will have these people be known as Night Elves."

"Children of the night for sure," Adrian attempted to make light of it all. Gibbou smiled

"I'll be back before you know it." She did some squats before blasting off up towards the sky, leaving Adrian in the middle of a night elven crowd. The elves were staring in bafflement at the goddess and then down at Adrian.

"Ah boo!" Adrian smiled, and a few elves recoiled. He shook his head, "We have a lot to work on."

Sammaree

Gibbou and Adrian jump over to Toasty’s islands (thinking the topmost one) and land in a dark spot in the canyons. Seeing as it’s actually so dark down there that nothing grows, the two of them mistakenly believe the canyons are barren. As such, Gibbou makes the nightsnappers to liven up the place. A landshark attacks them right thereafter, but is put to sleep by the nightsnappers as per their trait. Gibbou and Adrian then hop out of the dark hole to find that life’s actually teeming in the canyons. Adrian points out that mushrooms are missing, though, and they crawl into a humid cave to make mushrooms. While there, Adrian says he doesn’t blame Gibbou and admits that he may have been partially responsible for the loss of the Light back in the thumbling home, as he traded the peace for a curse upon the askeladd trolls. Gibbou is shocked and Adrian explains that the being who talked to him is known as Joab-Balaam. Gibbou asks if he wished for anything else to get hurt, and the pair then find that the landshark from earlier that attacked them has been turned into a pillar of salt. Adrian spots some light moving into the wall and Gibbou blasts a deep tunnel into the mountain - however, they find nothing. Adrian asks if they can fix this and Gibbou then makes salt crabs as she thinks this won’t be the first pillar of salt on this continent and that it’s important that there’s no loss of nutrients in the system.

However, it turns out that Adrian meant how to fix the light, and Gibbou proposes making mortals to petition it and then makes Night Elves. However, she thinks the night elves are so beautiful that she scares them away. Then Adrian tries to lecture them when they subsequently chastise Gibbou for her attitude. An elf answers the challenge. However, among the crowd, a prophet of Joab-Balaam is temporarily chosen as their voice, and she warns that no one may touch Adrian lest be punished. This turns the elves off of attacking him. The prophet then warns of the crowd that Joab-Balaam is a protector to those who follow his dogma and an executor to everyone else. Then the prophet comes to her senses and is offered some soothing drink from the Moonwell, which Gibbou made then and there. Gibbou then tells Adrian he’s responsible for watching over the elves and that she has to fly to the moon to think about a solution. She then soars off.

MP Summary

Gibbou start: 4MP/5DP

1DP, discounted to 0 - Make the Nightsnappers, a small species of yellow-striped purple gecko with an incredibly powerful sleeping toxin in their bite. This allows them to take down much, much bigger prey than they otherwise would be able to. Depending on the size and venom resistances of the prey, the sleeping agent can last anywhere from a few hours up to several days.

1MP - Make the saltcrabs, a small, white, amphibious crab species that sustains itself off of salt and seawater. They can then be eaten, provided the eater has some water to filter out the salty taste.

2DP: Make Night Elves, a sapient race. Night Elves are nightwalkers, meaning they sleep during the day and work during the night. They have excellent night vision, but rely mostly on their magnificent hearing and keen sense of smell to move around. They are also easily sunburned.

1DP: Make the Moonwell, a holy site with the power of Waters of Respite I. Like the Lake of Radiance heals physical wounds, the Moonwell soothes mental ones, helping those suffering from trauma, sleeplessness or other diseases of the mind calm down and take their mind off their burdens. The Moonwell is only active during the night, and its contents evaporate during the day. It also fills faster or slower depending on the phases of the moon, maximum when it’s full and minimum when it’s new. (1/5 DP spent to unlock Respite port.)

Gibbou end: 3MP/2DP

Joab-Balaam: 0MP 5DP

0 spent on punishing the land shark

Joab-Balaam end: 0MP/5DP

Divinus: The God RP, Mk. IV

Gibbou

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With a pang, Gibbou, who had been soaring through the air with incredible speed, slammed into a rubbery tree, which catapulted her up into the air again, and back in the direction she had come from. She frowned and caught hold of a misfortunate branch, whose day would be ruined by a goddess’ mighty deceleration. The branch went ‘snap!’ and Gibbou, with a squeal, dropped down into the jungle below. There came a ‘poof’ as she belly-flopped into a moss bed, and it took even the goddess a few seconds to completely stop seeing stars. She pushed herself up, shook her head violently and rolled over so she could sit.

“To-do list: Get better at landings,” she mumbled to herself as she tugged a twig loose from her braids. She saw in the distance that the sun was setting - finally! Her eyes had been hurting terribly almost all through the journey. She shouldn’t have waited until midnight to leave - she should’ve left when it started to grow dark! Sourly, she pinched her own cheek and gave a huff. Well, now that that was over with.

She clapped her hands together. Guardians!

The little moon goddess strolled about in the woods for a while, looking for materials, frequently hopping up through the canopy to see which way she was going - it didn’t help much, as all she saw was just more trees. However, after about a day of walking, her nose picked up a terrible stink. It was downright offensive, worse than anything she had ever smelled before - it reeked of agony, of pain, of rot!

And Gibbou knew she had to find out what it was! Quick-paced steps got her through the jungle quickly, her nose guiding her along. After a while, the trees grew sparcer and sparcer, until she felt the ground under her feet grow moist and chilly. She looked down and slowly began to realise that she had broken out of the woods long ago - she was standing on the edge of a vast, seemingly endless swampland. She gave her head a scratch and hummed a ‘hmm’. Was this all there was to this area?

No, something vaguely familiar had infused the essence of this place… It was almost as if… She was part of it. The thought made her shudder. This wasn’t really a place she’d like to hang around for much longer. Sure, her island didn’t exactly smell amazingly due to all the rot and mushrooms, but at least stuff lived there! Here, it was all mucky and barren and-...

Something wiggled between her toes and Gibbou skipped a metre backwards. Her eyes fixed on the culprit and she assumed a defensive stance. However, it was only a simple worm, curiously probing the air that, a second or so ago, had been an oddly warm stone. Gibbou immediately dropped her guard and went to pick it up. She giggled and tickled at the little worm’s belly. As expected, it didn’t laugh much. She put it back on the ground again and gave its little head (or possibly butt) a soft pat. Looking around, she felt the pull of duty encourage her to make her guardians and return to the moon to keep watch over life again. However, there was just something about this place…

Surely duty could wait, right?

She pondered as she walked. What could it be about this place? Now it wasn’t just the nauseating dread of feeling like part of her was sewn into the fabric of reality here; the fen was actively making her upset. Taking a break from walking, she leaned against a beech tree to support her uncannily-fatigued form.

“What’s wrong with this place?” she whispered through heavy breaths.

A sudden pinch on the back of her arm threw her out of her thoughts. As she looked down, she saw a tiny man standing in a hole in the bark comparing a berry's color to her skin. Gibbou choked a squeal and stopped her instinctive compulsion to flick the man back into the hole he was standing in; instead, a little skip away from the tree would have to do. Collecting herself, she furrowed her brow and squinted at the small man.

“H-hello?”

The miniature man stood stoic and almost bashfully lifted the berry up as if offering it kindly.

Gibbou blinked and politely accepted the berry, eyeing it curiously and occasionally shifting that very pensive look to the little man in the tree. Eventually, she, too, gave the berry a little comparison to her skin and snickered. “What, were you seeing which was darker?” she teased as she popped the berry in her mouth, offering a soft hum at the flavour. “Yeah, that’s definitely sweet. Thank you!” She gave her temple a scratch. “So… What’s your name?”

"Adrian," The voice was small and shy, "what's yours?"

Gibbou gasped and leaned in with a grin. “Oh! You can actually talk! You are so adorable!”

Adrian grimaced and covered his ears briefly before nodding, "Yes, we all can..." He shifted, "but who are you?"

Gibbou blinked again and pulled back. “Oh! Right, sorry, heheh. I am Gibbou, the moon goddess! I’m just quickly dropping by down here to make some-...” Gibbou took a deep breath and unleashed a quiet burp. “Oof, pardon me. That was a, urp, meaty berry.” She swallowed. “Anyway, I came to make some guardians to keep mortal life safe while I fly behind the planet.”

Adrian sniffed a little and craned his neck. The timidness left his voice as he grew comfortable, "Well I have no idea about any of that, but do you want to see our garden?"

“Hold that thought,” mumbled Gibbou and rubbed her chin thoughtfully. She then snapped the fingers on her right hand, eliciting a small ‘poof’. Then, between her index and her thumb, she held a tiny, round, brown hat with two small strands of bat hair in its rim. She gently put it on Adrian’s head and nodded sagely. “Yes, yes, wonderful. Go on.”

Adrian flipped the hat in his hands a few times before returning it to his head with an appreciative nod, half crescent smile and a quick, "Thank you."

Disappearing back into the hole, Adrians voice echoed out, "I'll meet you on the other side of the tree!"

Gibbou blinked and took the two-three steps necessary to circle around the back of the tree. There was a tiny “hup!” as Adrian landed on her shoulder, surveying the sacred grove from the new vantage point as if he had never seen it before. The mossy carpet, the blue mushrooms and houllin berry plants -- as well as the single standing gate at the very center. Surrounding the gate was the sound of a gentle flute and a crowd of admiring thumblings. Adrian took in a deep breath and prodded Gibbou’s neck.

“Pretty great, huh?”

Gibbou gasped and covered her mouth with her hands, softening a goofy giggle. "It's all so-...! I mean, it's beautiful! How long did it take you to make this?" She squatted down (with Adrian holding tight to a tuft of stray hair from her neck) and poked at one of the mushrooms. "How did you achieve such an adorable blue colour?"

“Well I didn’t do it,” Adrian responded casually, “it’s always been there, this all has.” He waved a hand as if re-presenting the grove, “The mushrooms are alright, but the berries are the real tasties -- as you’ve had.”

She ballooned her cheeks out and frowned. "Very filling, too, oof. So, what do you all do to pass the time here? Is this, uh," she gave the beech tree a few knocks with a curled finger, "is this a nice place to live?"

"The best!" Adrian didn't hesitate, "I really like everyone here, and there is always music, food and water. Hey, watch this!"

Without much else, Adrian leapt from Gibbou's shoulder with a tiny cackle. Before he could hit the ground, a wave of golden light unfolded under him, catching the thumbling midair before gently placing him on the ground. The sound of the ghostly flute fluttered around him as he laughed and pointed up at Gibbou, "See? Music! Fun!"

The moon goddess cooed her excitement and clapped. "How did you do that?! Is there a hidden band somewhere?" To accentuate her point, she started looking around searchingly.

"I don't know, it's always been!" Adrian clapped back, "It brings us water and berries, too." Adrian tugged on the colorful leaves that dressed his body, "And made these." He paused, "You never had... Or have... Whatever this all is?"

"What, leaves on my body?" Gibbou asked with a defensive frown and tugged at the centre of her nightsky shirt while looking down at it self-consciously. "I… I guess not. Should I?"

"Well I meant all of it," Adrian pinched his chin, "But now that you mention it, you probably should. You'd look great in a nice orange." He poked at an orange autumn leaf that wrapped around his waist.

Gibbou made a face. "I think I would need a good few more leaves to cover myself like you do, mister Adrian." She lifted her head to the sky - dawn was approaching. "Ugh… Say, mister Adrian, is there somewhere here that I can…-" Her eyes by chance landed upon the inscription upon the gate and hardened. "... The child of Night… Wait, what's this from?" She pushed herself up and approached to inspect it closer, mouthing the words as she walked. The other thumblings scattered at the sudden approach.

"It's always be-" Adrian's eyes widened as the once blank pillar that mirrored the inscripted pillar was suddenly engulfed in a golden light. Slowly more words were mysteriously carved into the stone to the tune of the flute: "He will bring the end."

Gibbou furrowed her brow in confusion. "... The child of… Will bring the end. Is, is this aimed at me?"

Adrian looked even more confused than Gibbou as he leaned against her leg, "I don't really know what that is, or what you're talking about."

Gibbou's breathing sped up. "S-so my child - no wait, it could be metaphorical! B-but who would write something like this, and-... Has it happened? No, no, it's future tense!" She looked back at Adrian. "Did any of you see anyone write this here? Someone like me, perhaps? Maybe taller or, I guess, more boarish?" She looked back at the gate and bit at her thumbnail anxiously.

Adrian shrugged and took a tiny step forward, "If you mean the little marks on the stone, your guess is as good as mine. They have always been, except for that new bit."

"It was the Golden Light," A tiny voice peeped up from behind a mushroom. Slowly an elderly thumbling clamored to the top of the fungus and sat down to catch his breath, "you saw it yourselves." A stark white beard as long as him bobbed as he lectured, "The fluteplayer, the berry giver, the water gifter, all those things are one."

"The Golden Light. It-it can't have been my sister… Right?" She eyed the gate again with a half-bitten index nail in her mouth. "No, no, of course not - right?"

"No," the elder shook his head, "it was no thumbling: no thumbling as big as you or as small as me, it was the blanket that serves us." He sucked in a whistling breath, "The light that catches Adrian when he leaps, the light that saw me to life so long ago. Listen."

As the old man's croaking voice faded away, the faint flute could be heard again. The elder gave a toothless grin, "The light is happy."

Gibbou swallowed uncomfortably and slowly sat down again, allowing the thumblings by her feet to run for cover. "Can, can I talk to it?" she asked with a small voice. Addian sat on her knee, kicking his legs and engrossed in the conversation.

"Maybe," the elder said, "I never managed to, but I have also never been coloured blue and extremely massive." He held out his hands as if to punctuate his point, "I say everything is worth a try if done with good intent."

Gibbou nodded carefully and looked upwards at nothing in particular. She intertwined her fingers loosely and breathed a sigh. "Mister Light? Are you out there?"

A gentle pulse reverberated through the grove. It was as if someone had disrupted a still pool of water ever so slightly. The old thumbling grinned again, "So you see? We are in the light. I reckon it is listening."

Gibbou offered the old thumbling another soft nod, her eyes busily scanning the surroundings. She held out a hand and turned it, observing small tremors in the air as if observing the air above a candle."This sensation… You're lifeblood, aren't you, mister Light?"

The trees rustled softly and a sorrowful flute whispered behind the leaves. Something in the song pecked at Gibbou's mind, and the suddenly melancholic faces of the thumblings told her she wasn't the only one. The elder cleared his throat.

"Only for so long, now," The elder sank in his seat, "Only for so long."

Gibbou blinked at the elder, but closed her mouth before she could say anything upon seeing the first beams of sunlight peek over the horizon. She sighed and shook her head. “Well, I suppose I should find shelter for the day, lest I wanna get a nasty burn. Would any of you mind if I made myself comfortable over here?” She pointed at a nearby moss patch.

"Make yourself comfortable," the elder gave a sage nod before turning back to the music, ears perked. Gibbou smiled back and dragged herself tiredly over to the moss patch, which she tugged at with some effort and, with a little more effort, shaped into a blanket that covered her whole body. She made herself comfortable on the ground and fell asleep to the sound of the flute.

----

In the night, vicious thoughts plagued the moon goddess’ mind, the prophecy digging at her giddy enthusiasm. When she at last woke up at sundown, the bags under her already dark eyes made her white pupils stand out to an uncanny degree. She rubbed her eyes free of as much gloominess as she could and lifted the moss blanket off herself. She stood up slowly and pulled her feet groggily towards the little grove again.

“Hey, mister elder? I don’t know if you’re awake, but I’m not feeling too well. I’m just going to make what I came here to make and woosh on back to my moon to ponder some, okay?”

There was a ruffling in her braid and a tired Adrian yawned, "Whassat?"

“Oh, hi, mister Adrian,” Gibbou cooed through a yawn. “Yeah, I was just saying that I’ll be making those guardians I’ve been mumbling to myself about for… A while now and then head home. I’m a bit under the weather, I think.”

"What's that?" Adrian stretched and folded his legs under him, cushioned by the top of Gibbou's head. He cleared the sleep out of his throat. "The light can take care of you."

She gave a hum. “That so, huh? Well… I suppose, if anything, the light could help me make what I’m making. Are you there, mister Light?” she asked and held out her hand.

Adrian paused and looked around from his vantage point, "We are always in the light, I think." Gibbou made a wry frown and gave a soft shrug.

“Sure do hope so. Well, ready for a little stroll, mister Adrian?”

"Yeah hold on." Adrian grabbed two fistfuls of hair before eagerly nodding. "Onward!" He gave a tiny thumbling laugh. Gibbou couldn’t help but giggle along as she set forth on the journey back towards the forest.

On the way, Gibbou would occasionally stop to pick up fancy-looking stones and sticks, gathering them in a bunch under her left hand. By the time they reached the forest again, it was midnight. Gibbou put down the now-quite sizable pile of materials she had found and placed her hands on her hips. “Hey, mister Adrian? You ready to see some divine magic?”

"I have no idea," Adrian snickered.

Gibbou picked up a stone and threw it high into the air. When it reached the zenith of its trajectory, it burst into a cloud of sand, which drizzled down again from above. However, as it fell, it started piling up at three points, almost as if there was standing someone there - and then someone stood there! It could also be appropriate to refer to it as some-THING, for it was certainly no thumbling, nor was it the size of any mortal this world had ever seen before. There stood a man-like monster, ten metres tall, with a nose like a tree trunk growing perpendicular to the face. It had hair like vine plants, growing in a forest so fast that the top of its head actually sprouted saplings. The vines continued down the sides of its face, forming a thick neckbeard that hung as low as the groin. Its skin was a mixture of pale pink and mossy green, looking almost stone-like in texture, though being as pliable as dough. Its eyes were nearly buried in all the hair, and even from birth, the creature looked many decades old.

Gibbou gave its head a wave. “Heeeey! Down here!” The creature craned its head forward.

“Who’re you, ah?” it rumbled curiously. Gibbou smiled politely back.

“Oh, I’m Gibbou! Oraelia’s my sister and that,” she pointed to the sky, “is my moon! I made you, you see, with the purpose of--”

“Gib-whut-now?” went the creature and scratched its head. Moss and dirt by the kilos crashed into the ground by its feet and Gibbou had to make certain nothing hit Adrian by accident. “You’ve got a funny name, lass - seh, what’s my name?”

“Your name? Uh…” Gibbou stuttered in a taken-aback manner, and while she pondered, the sticks from her pile suddenly stood up by themselves and grew a body. This body was considerably shorter than its cousin, standing only two metres tall. It also took a chubbier shape, had a small, potato-like nose, and grew hair all the way down to its ankles. The hair was riddled with moss and mushrooms, and its skin was pink and pig-like. From its back, a hair-tipped tail snaked its way along the ground. It gave a small yawn and shifted between Gibbou and the giant.

“Whot in gods’ name ‘ave I woken up to ‘ere, ey?”

Gibbou squealed. “Ah! H-how did you form so easily?”

“Daggern if I know,” said the creature with its pinky digging around in its nose. “One moment, nuffin’ - the next? Poof!”

A thunderous cackle came from above. “Aye, you sure said it, lad.”

“Now if you two would just--”

“So whot’s the party ‘ere all about?” came a third voice and Gibbou groaned.

“Another o--OH, SISTER!” she squealed, skipped backwards and hid her face behind her hands. Having risen from some animal bones she had found earlier stood a five metre tall giant with a head like a rotting fish skull if it was compressed into a vaguely humanoid shape. It barely had any head on its head, save for miserable strands desperately holding onto what genuinely looked to be diseased, sickly skin. Its eyes were hollow and bloodshot, and it oozed an offensive stink like rotting meat. Its body was disproportionately small compared to the large head, but despite all these nauseating characteristics, its aura was that of a simple, friendly giant. It had a look between all four of them, grinning as non-threateningly as possible (failing miserably, though).

“Sorry, was a lil’ tough to get that femur in the roight place,” he explained in a voice like warm milk. “Say, m’lady, you were giving us names just now, roight?”

"Maybe we should go," Adrian said shakily behind his hat.

Gibbou dared peek through her fingers and offered a very soft nod. “M-hm,” she replied anxiously, making sure there were only the five of them. Then, all of a sudden, something gripped Adrian by his collar and tried to pick it up from Gibbou’s hair.

“Oi, whot’s this’un, now?”

The air seemed to shimmer and Adrian squealed, "I'm A-Adrian." He kicked his dangling feet. Gibbou spun around and grabbed whatever was holding Adrian by his own collar. It was a much shorter creature, no more than a metre and a half. It was similar to the other three, but horns sprouted from the curly hair on its head, and it had no beard growth to speak of, nor much hair of any kind, really, except on top. It immediately lifted both hands in the air and put on a half grin.

“Roight, roight, no need to get all pissy ‘n all tha’. Just havin’ a lil’ bitt’a fun, a’roight? Say, missy, wanna play a game?”

“A game?” Gibbou offered back, Adrian getting settled back on her head, and before she could say yes, the creature’s tail quickly snatched up Adrian again and it sprinted off with a maniacal cackle, the air bending behind him. In the background, the giant one and the hairy one were both laughing along while the ugly one crossed its arms over its boney chest with a disappointed frown on what could barely pass for a face.

In the grip of the creature, Adrian screamed -- his eyes frozen shut with fear. The laughter of his kidnapper sloshed in his ears, alongside something else: the flute. It was sad, quiet, dying. Adrian opened his eyes and noticed a wave of light following him and his assailant.

Gibbou yelled, “ADRIAN!” and lifted one of her feet to follow in pursuit.

“Oi!” came a voice like thunder behind her and she stopped, shaking anxiously between pursuit and paying attention.

“Yes? What?!”

“Our names?” rumbled the giant. The hairy one gave his neck an ennuied scratch and the ugly one merely sighed patiently.

“Can’t you just--... Ugh! Alright, uh… First! You’re trolls, okay? Remember that! You were made to keep life safe while I’m up on the moon, and-... Can’t we take this some other time?”

“Rather not. Sun’s coming up soon, I reckon,” mumbled the hairy one.

“Oh, that’d be bad. Don’t like the sun much’t all,” agreed the ugly one.

“Why, what’ll the sun do?” the giant asked with a hint of fright.

“PLEASE!” Gibbou pleaded and the three of them momentarily shut up. The moon goddess breathed in deeply and pointed first to the big one. “You! You’re a dovregubbe, got it?”

“But you just said I was a troll.”

“Oh my-...” Gibbou breathed deeply. “Okay, you are a troll - that’s you species. Your subspecies - that’s dovregubbe!”

“My subspeeshis?”

“Nevermind. You!” she pointed at the hairy one, who casually thumbed its chest. “You’re a ranglefant!”

“Sounds a bit dirty, dunnit?” the ranglefant snickered. Gibbou rolled her eyes and pointed at the ugly one.

“You! You’re a draug.”

The draug gave a terrifyingly warming (and also downright terrifying) smile and nodded. “Thank you, m’lady. I’mma treasure that name, I will.”

Gibbou nodded back with an anxious smile. “Alright, are we good here?”

“Question for ya, Gibboo,” the dovregubbe went.

“What?”

“What’s that wee lad’s name, then?”

Gibbou drew a breath. “If it’s alive by the time I’m done with it, I suppose I’ll call it an askeladd. Now, you three, behave!” With that, Gibbou sprinted after the troll on the run.

The three trolls exchanged looks. “So… Whot now?” went the draug casually. The ranglefant shrugged.

“S’pose it’s just about lunchtime, innit?” it went and picked at the ground for something to eat.

“Hey, lads - what did she say we were supposed to do again?”

The ranglefant shrugged again. “Dunno. Somethin’ about keepin’ life somethin’ or uvva’.”

“Safe, I believe,” said the draug. The ranglefant rolled its eyes as it dug up a worm and put it into its mouth.

“Roight, dovregubbe, mate. Want to check whot the woods’ got for snacks?”

The draug frowned. “Mates?”

“O-ho-ho! Now that sounds like a plan!” the giant thundered along and the two of them strolled into the woods, the dovregubbe shoving trees aside in its stride. The draug stood alone at the border to the fen, scratching its head thoughtfully.

“Well, oughta find myself a cave, I suppose.” Then it, too, entered the woods.

---

Gibbou knew she was much faster than the askeladd, but it had gotten a considerable lead on her and could be hiding anywhere. Divine senses did her little good somewhere as smelly as this place, but it had to be somewhere.

A tiny yelp caught her attention and quickly her divine eyes snapped onto the askeladd. It was headed right for the line of beech trees that guarded the grove. A steadily growing ripple of light followed it, unbeknownst to the beast. Gibbou sprinted over and tossed herself at the askeladd, tackling it through the treeline and to the mossy ground of the grove. Immediately she picked it up to make certain it or she hadn’t killed any thumblings. The flute seemed to hiss faintly around them.

“Okay! Okay, you got me!” the askeladd confessed with a smirk and handed over the shaken Adrian. Gibbou accepted him as if he was a breaking egg and brought him up to her face.

“Adrian! Are you okay? Oh, please be okay!”

Adrian -- who was clinging tightly to Gibbou’s thumb out of reflex, tiny heartbeat pounding against her -- nodded. “I-” The sound of the flute was growing louder. Adrian cleared his throat to talk over it, “I!-” but the flute grew louder.

“Not for very much longer, indeed,” The wise croak of the elder sounded. Looking over, he was sitting on his mushroom, a single finger pointed at the gate. The scripture on its stone was glowing: “The son of night will be brought to light; he will bring the end.” In front of the gate, the askeladd stood in stunning awe as a blanket of light flowed around him.

BANG!

The rusted gate slammed open, the metal smashing against the pillar. An enormous flash broke the night, turning the grove to pocks of light and purple negatives. With a ripping wind, the golden light began to funnel into the gate, disappearing on the other side -- the flute carrying with it. As it peeled from the grove, it was leaving a second sea of light in its place -- a terrible anger residing in this new body as the flow of mercy and care left for the gate.

The scene was frozen as a heart wrenching slam marked the end of the flute’s song -- the gate had closed, the music was dead and all that remained outside the gate was half of the once-loving light; a sea of anger. The markings on the gate recarved to say “The son of night will be brought to light; he will bring the end.” but a single note of a flute played after it, adding yet another line to the prophecy, a tiny speck of hope among the despair “He will begin again.”

The note faded, the gate rusted closed once more and the great anger that engulfed the scene suddenly pulsed. Adrian stuttered, “Why...”

Meanwhile the askeladd was slowly sneaking away. Gibbou turned to it with a furious glare. “Don’t you move another inch! We’re going to have a serious talk, mister!”

The askeladd held up both palms in a negotiating manner. “Of course, of course! Just lem’me sit on right down ‘ere aaand-- SIKE!” The askeladd started sprinting away again. Gibbou blinked.

“H-hey! Come back! I’m your goddess, you know! Do you know what I could do to you?!”

“Up yours, blueberry! Hihihihihi!” the askeladd cackled back as it skipped over a large heap in the fen and disappeared into the night. Gibbou grit her teeth sourly, but refocused her attention on the surrounding light which began to rumble like a thunderstorm.

All at once, the sea of light began to explode out of the grove and after the troll, the waves crashing against trees and Gibbou alike. The forever stream seemed to have little care for who or what it swirled past as it’s intense flow ripped the leaves from the trees and forced the thumblings to cower behind rocks and large sticks. The blasting wind that followed the light beat down the grove until all at once, the light and all peace was gone from the grove.

Gibbou, Adrian, the elder, and everyone else were left in the empty grove -- the music long gone. Leaves littered the once serene area, and the thumblings looked devastated -- tiny eyes looking up at Gibbou for answers.

The moon goddess mouthed the words from the prophecy and drew a quivering gasp. "Child of Night… Oh no. What have I done?" She dropped to her knees, then had to support her torso with her arms. Quartz-white tears welled up in her eyes and began dripping down on the moss, forming little chalky bubbles.

Adrian frowned and patted her elbow, "No one could have seen this coming -- well I suppose the gate did but no one else."

"There, there," The elder said to Gibbou as much as the rest of the thumblings, "What is gone will come again. I can feel it."

Gibbou looked up and wiped away so many tears that they stained her sleeve white. “Wuh-wha’h? Wha’h you meehn?” She gave a sobbing sniff.

The elder took a long inhale and looked up at the now barren canopy. He held his stare, a wise gleam in his eye as he croaked with absolute certainty, "I have no idea."

"See- wait what?" Adrian looked over at the elder.

"Life's a mystery, boy," The elder settled on his mushroom, "take peace where you can."

Gibbou gave another sob. “B-buh… But what’ll happen to you now?” She picked up a batch of moss and used it to blow her nose, immediately regretting it after her nostrils filled with dirt.

“I imagine a lot of things,” the elder said to the onlooker’s dismay, “But where there are downs, there are ups as well.”

“How are you so calm about this?” Adrian asked with a sudden huff.

“Perhaps a piece of the light rubbed off on me during my life,” the elder suggested, “I feel as though I can still hear its flute and the warmth of its grace.” He wiggled his nose and slowly rose to his feet, “But enough talk - it’s time to gather our own water, and pick our own berries -- and Adrian.”

“Yes?”

“No more jumping from tall places.”

MP Summary!

Gibbou start: 5MP/0DP
1MP: Create sapient species - Trolls: Trolls are Gibbou’s watchmen on Galbar while she’s away on her moon; however, none of them are particularly good at it. There are four races which will be explored further in the wiki.

Gibbou end: 4MP/0DP

Joab-Balaam-blood start: 1MP/0DP
1MP: Create sapient species - Trolls.
0MP: Troll gets punished off screen, allergic to music
JBB end: 0MP/0DP

The Sacred Grove: +5 prestige.

Summary

Gibbou finds a thumbling named Adrian and the two have a chat about important things that I’m not going to list here (what could they be?). Gibbou then finds the gate in the sacred Grove and the prophecy “The child of night will be brought to light; he will bring the end.” Gibbou is spooked and meets a wise old elder, Gibbou meets “the light” that cares for the thumblings and the grove, she goes to bed

The next day Gibbou and Adrian leave the grove to go make trolls. The trolls are jackasses and one steals Adrian. Upon reaching the grove with the stolen thumbling, “the light” splits in two, with the loving side disappearing through the gate, while the angry side (Joab) remains and hunts down the troll, wrecking everything in its path. The child of the night brought the end.

A new prophecy forms that is identical to the last, but with the caveat that He will begin again.

I personally would read this entire post, there are a lot of nuances that explains what this light is and why it split, but if you don’t want to, that's fine -- just know that some future actions and interactions with Joab may not make as much sense.

Divinus: The God RP, Mk. IV

Gibbou

---

Gibbou gave the surface of the moon a grumpy hit, regretfully soothing it with a few rubs an instant later. That dumb pig had just appeared skipped away in such a hurry - just as they were getting a conversation going! Sure, not everyone could be as awesome as sis, but there had to be some kind of standard, right? She huffed and sat back down, looking down at the greening continent below and the crack and thunder of a million roots breaking at the newly formed soil. There was something almost terrifying about this awesome power, but the exhilarating bubbling in her blood drowned out that fear. She hopped up and down, squealing and whooping at the spectacle below.

YEAH! Plant those trees! she cheered and threw her hands into the air. The motion sent her laying flat down on her back and she breathed a happy sigh. Maybe this life wouldn’t be so bad, huh?

A millisecond of instincts kicking into motion suddenly warned her of something she was far too slow to react to. A series of echoing screams blasted through time and space, and before she could even fathom to think what just occurred, she felt a massive change in G-force and was dropped into space, as her moon suddenly sped off away from her at a speed of a meteor. Gibbou took a second to recover her balance and looked around for her creation.

“H-hey! My moon!” she shouted and sped off after it like a shooting star, moon-white light encapsulating her as she soared through the empty space. She was back on its surface shortly after and instantly inspected it for damages. She found it sufficiently whole and breathed a sigh of relief.

Now to find the culprit. Taking a deep breath, she shouted, “HEY! YOU SENT MY MOON SPINNING AROUND THE PLANET, YOU BUTT! HOW CAN I PAY ATTENTION TO THE LAND ALL THROUGH THE NIGHT NOW?!” With an angry huff, she picked up a moon rock and lobbed in some arbitrary direction. The rock soared off and burned up in Galbar’s atmosphere. A frown discoloured her face as she stared over the horizon of her moon - the sunlight was approached.

“Oh, come on…” she groaned, “you mean the dark side won’t stay dark forever now?! That--! Ugh!” She kicked another moon rock, sending another shooting star down to Galbar. She plopped herself down on the surface and growled in displeasure. Why did the other gods have to be so inconsiderate? It was downright breaking her heart, it was! Gibbou made a sour ‘prrt’ with her lips.

“First I can’t do my job properly and now-...”

A darkbulb dimmed over her head and she suddenly grinned from ear to ear. She rocketed to her feet and began stretching out. Of course! If she couldn’t pay attention to the part of the world with life all the time, she’d just have to delegate the job to someone else whenever she wouldn’t be around!

She bent over to stretch her hamstrings and calves. She could almost reach her toes with her fingers, she grinned in realising. Could probably do this exercise every now and then and reach down eventually! Now, what would they be like, these guardians?

She waved her arms around like windmills. Well, for starters, they should be tall - preferably to deter anyone trying to harm life from, well, harming life.

She rolled her head around on her shoulders. Secondly, they ought to be very strong - oh! and able to live long! Wouldn’t want guardians to just pass away like that, would we?

She stretched her arms over her head one at a time to flex her latissimus dorsi. Lastly, they’re only really needed at night, so they shouldn’t really bother daywalkers too much. Oh! What if they were allergic to the sunlight? That’d keep them from doing anything fishy when she was asleep herself!

She put her fists on her hips and grinned - she had a plan!

She knelt down and, making sure not to damage the surface of her precious baby, she kicked off and soared down to the surface of Galbar, giggling all the way as she soared with two fists extended up front.

“Wooooooooooo!” she half-squealed, half-laughed as she crashed into the water surface with a splash the size of a minor meteoric impact. A few minutes later, her little blue head popped up above the water surface and spat out some water. “Eugh! Salty,” she muttered and pulled her soaked hair out of her eyes before spinning to look up at the sky. As expected, she saw no sign of the sun, but what she -did- see, was possibly something beautiful enough to challenge her sister’s looks.

“... Woah… I made that?” she whispered to herself as her eyes glued onto the sight of the full moon. Its light wasn’t even close to offensive - it was the complete opposite! Unlike the sun, it fell gently on the eyes - it was light, a beacon in the sky, an existence of peace and calm - all without that painful glare.

”Well done.”

The voice rolled through Gibbou’s mind and shook the world around her. Unlike those most wholesome of words shared with lovely voices between caring siblings that Gibbou had heard, these were something far different. Though they imparted meaning far deeper, their sounds were of tides and bubbles and many other things of the deep. Nevertheless, the compliment was clear.

Rising from below with bright orange-yellow eyes ringed in light blue came the vastness of the growing Klaar. The Old Growth of the deep stared unblinkingly at the new entity that splashed in his waters with one pair of eyes while the others looked about in fascination with the world above. Most of all, that gentle orb that hung calmly in the sky.

Gibbou blinked at the creature’s single eye and cocked her head to the side. “Oh! Hello! Are,” she pulled at her nose to clean it of seawater, “are you the one who made the ocean here?” She made an effort to extend a hand towards the eye while using the other to keep herself afloat amidst the powerful current forming from the surfacing of such a grand god. “I’m Gibbou! Oraelia’s my sister! What’s your name?”

Klaars eyes twisted in their sockets at the strange words. They were understandable but vague, soft, and without form. What a grand and intoxicating innocence! The surface of the waters bubbled and rippled as the huge mass of Klaarungraxus vibrated with excitement at this most interesting of meetings. A momentary pause in his works as he extended the seas and set about creating so many fascinating things.

”My pool grows and the First Water flows,” bellowed the huge cephalopod, ”Now it is a lagoon of my making. You are Gibbou, and I am Klaar, and we have spoken. An empty space given place. Joyous tidings and sounds of soft white waters abound~!”

The tip of one large tentacle exited the waters and hung in front of Gibbou, matching her stretched out arm’s posture. Three eyes now focussed on Gibbou, all from one side, while the others looked upwards at the moon with clear delight. A far softer, gentler thing than that vile fire in the sky.

Gibbou grinned from ear to ear and used her other hand to pull her hair out of her face again, resulting in her dropping under the water surface for a second, getting all her hair up in her face again. She surfaced and made a sheepish giggle. “Oh, uh, just a second, would you mind? I just have to…” She snapped her fingers under the surface and, after a short minute, a large manta ray appeared underneath her, pushing her seated form to the water surface. She smiled at it and then at Klaar. “There we go! Oh, I hope you don’t mind me just, uh, putting stuff in your waters without asking.” As she talked, the manta ray drifted off slowly in an arbitrary direction. Gibbou gave it a small frown and looked back to Klaar again. “You mind if we chat on the way?”

The manta ray was soon joined by a large pod of its kind, and below swam a number of blue and black fish, all around a great, silvery, coral-covered reef that had suddenly appeared. The corals seemed to almost bloom in the light of the moon, and the spectacle was further enhanced by the dance of fish dancing between their many colourful arms.

Klaar bubbled and shook as he descended below, perceiving the new life that had entered his seas. They were as his own, the creations he’d been spawning across the oceans, yet each and every one a unique and interest design. Corals, his most beloved of creations wrought by his tentacles, had been placed with tender care into a vast reef below and Klaar spoke gentle tides into being to bring nutrients to this most lovely of reefs.

”Life must teem, came his sonorous reply, sounding as a pleasant seashore, ”And so must we. To where do thine tides take thee?”

“Yeah, making life’s great! I’m having a blast!” The blue girl twisted a handful of saltwater out of her braids. “See, I’m actually really happy I ran into you! I’m heading for land - that would be the, uhm… Did you see the boar come crashing down from above earlier?”

”Tusks-and-Fur-and-Fury,” Klaar’s eyes sunk inwards as memories turned to images in his mind, ”A mind unappreciative of oceans vast. The beak he pulled from waters deep now towers ponderously. Affirmative. Mine eyes hath held his visage.”

Gibbou nodded. “Unappreciative of a lot of things, really. But okay, you know him - good! See, I was heading to, as I mentioned, but I’ve lost my way, sort of. Could you point me in the general direction of the biggest landmass here?” The manta ray, meanwhile, casually splashed its noodle-like tail against the surface, no doubt eager to dive deeper. Gibbou gave it a soothing pat on the… Head? Neck? She was uncertain.

Klaar wriggled with curiosity at the comment of Gibbou on Tusks-and-Fur-and-Fury, so-called Boris despite Klaar’s lack of knowledge. His immense and corpulent form turned and gestured with glowing eyes in the direction of the continent, the first of its kind.

”It resides in mountains high, of its own creation. Thou wilst find Tusks-and-Fur-and-Fury there, rooting and stamping. I wish thee swift tides and kindly waves, Moon-in-Sky Gibbou. A truer name I will speak for thee after thine parting.”

Gibbou blinked at the name, but quickly switched the confusion for joy and waved cheerfully at the grand frame of Klaar, who was now a short distance away, actually, due to the manta ray’s laborious efforts. “Thank you so much, Klaar! Hope we’ll see each other again soon, yeah?”

”We have watched and we have listened; mine eyes look upwards and yours downwards. We shall see eye to eye again.” With that, Klaar descended into the depths to return to his works, admiring the Moon-Reef as he passed over it.

---

It took a long while, but eventually, the manta ray had brought her to land. She casually flopped off of it into the water, spun around to give the manta ray a kiss which it seemed reluctant to accept, and swam towards the shore while the ray returned to its pod. Gibbou stepped onto the beach and looked up - dawn was approaching and she felt herself cringe. The island was about as barren as her moon, but so, so, sooo much brighter. The sands were already reflecting the dawnlight into her eyes and she felt that familiar sting right away. She spun around, looking for any kind of refuge. Not finding it on the islet of sand she could hide under, she desperately brought her palms together, creating a shocking blast that shook the very foundations of the island.

In the blink of an eye, the sandy floor grew furry with black, white and blue fungi as small and and thin as blades of grass; all around her sprouted enormous black mushrooms, blotting out the sky like trees with sun-resistant, shield-like caps; between the “grass” and the “trees” sprouted shrub-like colonies of enoki; in between the blades of fungi grass sprouted puffballs that seemed to ooze clouds of calming spores. Gibbou knelt down next to a few of them, squeezed at them gently and took a few deep breaths to help her panicked nerves calm down.

“Phew… One day more out of the sunlight is a happy day, huh, mister mushroom?”

The mushroom didn’t say much, but it was likely in agreement.

Gibbou, having calmed down sufficiently, stood back up and had a look around. The forest was nice and dark - only smidges of daylight broke through the roof of mushroom caps. However, it was also terribly, so terribly silent. The thick foliage now drowned out the sound of the ocean, even, so Gibbou could really only hear her own breathing, and almost her heartbeats. She didn’t mind the quiet, but there was also something very off about such perverse silence.

She snapped her fingers. Something had to be done!

The first thing she did was to create insects - lots and lots of different beetles, flies, moths and gnats to feast upon the forests’ bounty with gusto! She conjured forth slugs the size of cats to gnaw at the slightly larger fungi, and made a bunch of smaller terrestrial mollusks to keep the insects company. A bunch of different bacteria, mosses and lichen also began to grow on the mushrooms, and slowly, but surely, these took on a very dim, beautiful hue that coloured the forest an almost eerie, but dreadfully exciting shade of cyan.

Finally, Gibbou walked over to a mushroom tree, which was currently being gnawed at by a group of hungry beetles. She placed her ear against the moist trunk and knocked on it twice. A tiny hole appeared where she had knocked and out popped a little head, with a triangular nose, massive ears and two tiny, curious eyes looking at Gibbou. Gibbou, barely able to contain herself, gently plucked the little bat out of the hole and cuddled it up against her face.

“You are the most adorable thing I have ever seen,” she whispered to it as it wheezed in light-hearted confusion. Gibbou plated a little kiss on its belly and let it skip off of her hand to chase a bypassing moth. Before long, lots more bats like it were flapping all around the forest, chasing insects and hanging upside down from underneath the mushroom caps. Below, cockroaches were happily feasting on guano.

Gibbou stayed in the forest so long that she forgot her original purpose for coming down to Galbar - she just had too much fun creating life. She made porcupines and moles that trundled slowly after the even slower snails and worms; she conjured forth mycophagic mice and rats and then made black owls to chase after them; she made glowing bugs that sat on the trunks of mushroom trees and minded their own business until predators dropped by - which the bugs would proceed to momentarily blind with bursts of light; she made vines that tangled around mushroom trees and sprouted glowing berries that also made their consumers glow - made for nice meals until a predator caught you shining like the sun above.

Gibbou had no idea how many days had passed by the time she was done with the ecosystem. By chance, she remembered that she was supposed to make some guardians to keep life safe when she couldn’t see the main continent! That was it!

She waited until dark. As she stepped out on the beach, she noticed a beautiful blue glow around her moon. This wasn’t anything of her own doing, and for a second, she felt compelled to soar up and see if anything was wrong. However, for now, she was enchanted by the sight of this blue energy dancing around her moon. She couldn’t help but smile.

Reinvigorated, she turned to face the forest. She pointed at it with one hand on her hip and felt her smile become a cheshire grin.

“This shall be Neverday Isle (sorry, sis), and here, all things of the night shall forever have refuge!”

And with that, she kicked off and soared across the sky in the direction of the Toraan main continent.

Summary!

So Gibbou’s pissed that Boris just hopped off like that, but quickly gets over it as the sight of Galbar is just too fine. Then, outta nowhere, physics is suddenly invented, and Gibs is knocked off her moon as it starts orbiting. Now pissed that someone knocked her off her moon -and- that the Dark Side won’t stand still -and- that she can’t pay attention to the same part of the world at all times anymore, she hops down to the surface to make some stand-ins for when she’s away.

On the surface, she runs into Klaar, and they have a sweet little meeting where Klaar praises Gibbou’s moon and Gibbou calls Klaar a nice squid. Since Gibbou doesn’t want to swim through the whole conversation, she makes a school of manta rays carry her. In the act, she also makes a nice little reef called the Moon-Reef, with lunar-friendly fish and corals. Klaar and Gibbou say their sweet goodbyes shortly after.

Gibbou then ends up on an island far from the mainland. There’s no vegetation and the sun is approaching. In a panic, she makes the mushroom forest of Neverday Isle, but ends up having so much fun making life that she stays on the island until her ecosystem is complete. Once it’s done, she names the island and jumps off to the main continent to do what she was actually supposed to do.

Might Summary!

Gibbou:
Start: 5MP/0DP

• 0MP - Make the Moon-Reef, a large reef far off the west coast of Toraan. It’s home to manta rays, moon-reflecting corals and other fish that enjoy life in the dark of the night.
• 0MP - Make the ecosystem on Neverday Island. It’s an ecosystem which is shielded from the sun day and night, thanks to great fungal trees with parasol-like caps that blot out its rays. The fungal “trees”, “grasses” and “shrubs” make up the lower trophics, while the higher trophic levels are occupied by mushroom-eating fungivores and predators that prey on them.

End: 5MP/0DP

Divinus: The God RP, Mk. IV

Gibbou, the Shield of the Moon

Gibbou

Primordial.

Domain: Night. The night is when the shadow of Galbar envelops the world in its darkness, calling for the walkers of the day to rest and the creatures of the night to hunt. It is both a time of magnificent beauty and terrible fear, and Gibbou doesn’t shy away from neither the calm, tranquil aspects of the star-speckled sky and the bright, white moon, nor the cruel, uncaring thirst of the beasts in the shadows, but embraces them both in a duality of peace and terror. Her power appoints her to the guardian of peace when her sister Oraelia descends beyond the horizon, safeguarding life so it may grow the next day, and she keeps a watchful eye over the world, ready to punish those who disrespect the law of night’s peace.

Gibbou’s powers allow her more easily to shape and influence creatures of the night, offering blessings such as better eyes in the darkness, or curses such as restlessness. She is generally more powerful at night and much weaker during the day.

Portfolio: Moon. Gibbou is goddess of the moon, or (possibly) moons. The moon is an object of beauty, reflection, admiration and tranquility, lighting up the night for its denizens and offering mortality inspiration for art and thought. The moon’s light functions as a beacon for the fearful and lost, and Gibbou wishes for all who see it to feel safe and peaceful within. Her innate knowledge of celestial objects also grants her great power of influence over objects orbiting Galbar, as well as the creation of these objects. Finally, the moon’s mighty pull on Galbar’s oceans and seas grants Gibbou control over tidal forces.

All these powers, however, ebb and flow with the phases of the moon, being strongest when it’s full and weakest when it’s new.

Their Realm: The Dark Side of the Moon. Gibbou’s home is in a place where even her sister’s light cannot reach. It is a place of eternal night, where the only light to be found is the dim glow of Gibbou’s bioluminescent plants and fungi, which form a great, humid forest here, or the wild eyes of whatever nocturnal beasts may be lurking. Here, various blind animals, fish and insects all roam about as they would on Galbar, rather content about life in a world without vision. At the centre of the woods lies a villa (though one wouldn’t be able to tell by looking - rather, perhaps, by walking into it.). This is Gibbou’s house, a place where she rests during the day and keeps various adopted animals and mortals in eternal, peaceful sleep. Whether these creatures are at her estate willingly, is a question for another time.

Persona: For the most part, Gibbou is a calm and peaceful character, deeply fond of meditation and pondering the great questions of the universe. She enjoys the company of other gods, and frequently goes out of her way to reach out to others to socialise under the stars. She adores all manner of life and keeps a number of gardens in her realm where she grows vibrant fungi and bioluminescent plants. She also adores bats.

Gibbou’s mission, as agreed between her and Oraelia, is to safeguard through the night the life the Sun has provided life to during the day. While Gibbou is generally sweet and gentle in her manners, she puts on a strict, grim visage in the night, seeing herself as a chosen guardian over life from the wickedness lurking in the dark. Because of this, she tends to look upon all non-nocturnal animals who walk out in the night with great suspicion, though it’s not always easy to see the nature of criminals and murderers in the dark.

Much less when one’s observing all the way from the moon.

Base Form:

Base Form

Gibbou’s base form is humanoid, standing 182cm tall with skin as blue as the twilight sky. Hidden under a mass of dark blue hair appears a smooth, shadowed face with eyes pupiled with moonlight. Her forehead sports a white waxing crescent, down from which runs a bright line which splits into two halfway down her nose and follows her cheekbones into her mass of hair. A similar line begins on her lower lip and traces her chin down her throat, connecting to an array of symbols and lines covering the rest of her dark blue form. She smells vaguely of a chilly evening in the forest.

For clothing, Gibbou wears a long-sleeved overshirt and long trousers, both spun with threads of the blackest night and speckled with lights like the starry sky. Around her head, she dons a crescent crown similar to that of an laurel crown, only fashioned in the light of the moon. She usually wears a small smile, contrasted somewhat by a slight chill to her skin, not quite unlike one one would feel on an evening stroll.

Domain Form: Perhaps ironically, Gibbou’s domain form symbolises everything cruel and wicked about the night. Taken in order to deter aggressors against herself or that which she holds dear, it is the emptiness of a black night, taken by momentarily snuffing out every other source of light except for two burning orbs like bleeding moons, staring her targets down. Gibbou can choose how much she wants to dim the lighting around her, and its effect can in many ways be countered by other gods’ powers.

Avatar: Twilight.

Twilight sating a nasal itch.

Twilight remembers very little of who he once was. He know he once was something else than the messenger of Gibbou - however, he finds it immensely difficult to remember anything from before he was taken from his home and left to rest at Gibbou’s villa for an eternity - or perhaps not even a minute. All he knows now that he's been awoken and given a divine task, is that he has no intention of completing said task. No matter how much Gibbou requests Twilight to listen to her, he rarely complies, preferring instead to catch up on all the things he missed while he was asleep.

Twilight's well adapted for life in both light and dark, but prefers the night as his eyes never seem to properly adjust to the rays of the sun. He takes the form of a human male, standing 172 centimetres tall in a lean, yet somewhat well-trained body. His clothing is shabby and rough, and basically nothing about him gives off any manner of divine aura, with the possible exception of his uncannily bright blue eyes.

Musical Theme:

Theme!

Divinus: The God RP, Mk. IV

Interested af! Character sheet'll be coming soon, with goddess of cold and snow! Edit: Here she is!

Edit2: Changed completely and capped Night(Moon)!

Gibbou, Sister of the Sun

Gibbou

Primordial.

Domain: Night. The night is when the shadow of Galbar envelops the world in its darkness, calling for the walkers of the day to rest and the creatures of the night to hunt. It is both a time of magnificent beauty and terrible fear, and Gibbou doesn’t shy away from neither the calm, tranquil aspects of the star-speckled sky and the bright, white moon, nor the cruel, uncaring thirst of the beasts in the shadows, but embraces them both in a duality of peace and terror. Her power appoints her to the guardian of peace when her sister Oraelia descends beyond the horizon, safeguarding life so it may grow the next day, and she keeps a watchful eye over the world, ready to punish those who disrespect the law of night’s peace.

Gibbou’s powers allow her more easily to shape and influence creatures of the night, offering blessings such as better eyes in the darkness, or curses such as restlessness. She is generally more powerful at night and much weaker during the day.

Portfolio: Moon. Gibbou is goddess of the moon, or (possibly) moons. The moon is an object of beauty, reflection, admiration and tranquility, lighting up the night for its denizens and offering mortality inspiration for art and thought. The moon’s light functions as a beacon for the fearful and lost, and Gibbou wishes for all who see it to feel safe and peaceful within. Her innate knowledge of celestial objects also grants her great power of influence over objects orbiting Galbar, as well as the creation of these objects. Finally, the moon’s mighty pull on Galbar’s oceans and seas grants Gibbou control over tidal forces.

All these powers, however, ebb and flow with the phases of the moon, being strongest when it’s full and weakest when it’s new.

Their Realm: The Dark Side of the Moon. Gibbou’s home is in a place where even her sister’s light cannot reach. It is a place of eternal night, where the only light to be found is the dim glow of Gibbou’s bioluminescent plants and fungi, which form a great, humid forest here, or the wild eyes of whatever nocturnal beasts may be lurking. Here, various blind animals, fish and insects all roam about as they would on Galbar, rather content about life in a world without vision. At the centre of the woods lies a villa (though one wouldn’t be able to tell by looking - rather, perhaps, by walking into it.). This is Gibbou’s house, a place where she rests during the day and keeps various adopted animals and mortals in eternal, peaceful sleep. Whether these creatures are at her estate willingly, is a question for another time.

Persona: For the most part, Gibbou is a calm and peaceful character, deeply fond of meditation and pondering the great questions of the universe. She enjoys the company of other gods, and frequently goes out of her way to reach out to others to socialise under the stars. She adores all manner of life and keeps a number of gardens in her realm where she grows vibrant fungi and bioluminescent plants. She also adores bats.

Gibbou’s mission, as agreed between her and Oraelia, is to safeguard through the night the life the Sun has provided life to during the day. While Gibbou is generally sweet and gentle in her manners, she puts on a strict, grim visage in the night, seeing herself as a chosen guardian over life from the wickedness lurking in the dark. Because of this, she tends to look upon all non-nocturnal animals who walk out in the night with great suspicion, though it’s not always easy to see the nature of criminals and murderers in the dark.

Much less when one’s observing all the way from the moon.

Base Form:

Base Form

Gibbou’s base form is humanoid, standing 182cm tall with skin as blue as the twilight sky. Hidden under a mass of dark blue hair appears a smooth, shadowed face with eyes pupiled with moonlight. Her forehead sports a white waxing crescent, down from which runs a bright line which splits into two halfway down her nose and follows her cheekbones into her mass of hair. A similar line begins on her lower lip and traces her chin down her throat, connecting to an array of symbols and lines covering the rest of her dark blue form. She smells vaguely of a chilly evening in the forest.

For clothing, Gibbou wears a long dress spun from the black of the night sky. It hangs loosely around her body, similar to a chiton covered by a peplos. Around her head, she dons a crescent crown similar to that of an laurel crown, only fashioned in the light of the moon. She usually wears a small smile, contrasted somewhat by a slight chill to her skin, not quite unlike one one would feel on an evening stroll.

Domain Form: Perhaps ironically, Gibbou’s domain form symbolises everything cruel and wicked about the night. Taken in order to deter aggressors against herself or that which she holds dear, it is the emptiness of a black night, taken by momentarily snuffing out every other source of light except for two burning orbs like bleeding moons, staring her targets down. Gibbou can choose how much she wants to dim the lighting around her, and its effect can in many ways be countered by other gods’ powers.

Avatar: Twillight.

Twillight being awoken from a nap by curious sages

Twilight remembers very little of who he once was. He know he once was something else than the messenger of Gibbou - however, he finds it immensely difficult to remember anything from before he was taken from his home and left to rest at Gibbou’s villa for an eternity - or perhaps not even a minute. All he knows now that he's been awoken and given a divine task, is that he has no intention of completing said task. No matter how much Gibbou requests Twilight to listen to her, he rarely complies, preferring instead to catch up on all the things he missed while he was asleep.

Twilight's well adapted for life in both light and dark, but prefers the night as his eyes never seem to properly adjust to the rays of the sun. He takes the form of a human male, standing 172 centimetres tall in a lean, yet somewhat well-trained body. His clothing is shabby and rough, and basically nothing about him gives off any manner of divine aura, with the possible exception of his uncannily bright blue eyes.

Musical Theme:

Theme!

Eden(Small-scale Space NRP)

Location:

Shin-Nihon (Sage 2), Sage System, Raygon Space Inner Sector.

Shimazu Conglomerate Headquarters.

Main dojo.

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Subject:

Name: Nobuhide Kazegami

Age: 36 cycles around Sage 0.

Residence: Kamurocho Pink Street 83, flat 611.

Occupation: Yakuza.

Rank: Captain of the Seiryu family, patriarch of the Kazegami family.

Workplace: Kazegami Family Headquarters.

Post Theme

---

It had been a while since the whole clan had gathered. The main dojo of the Shimazu Clan headquarters was large, sure, but it could only barely fit all two hundred leaders, let alone their second-in-command officer staff. Kazegami had been lucky to make it inside to stand squeezed between the officer ranks behind his boss, Okita Seiryu, who, like the rest of the high-ranking officers, had been given space to sit in the characteristic seiza position. Tables had been set before them on the tatami mat floor in four grid-like rows facing towards the room centre, upon which were neatly placed plates of charcoal-grilled, marinated fish upon a small mound of white rice. Hot sake had been provided in tiny clay flasks, presented with small cups for corks. Kazegami felt immense envy bubble in his belly at the sight of the meal - him and his colleagues had been told to eat before they came, and had settled for Mr. Zentenzai’s abhorrent protein paste karaage.

Heavens, he could still taste the recycled cooking oil. It had been a cheap meal, sure, but no amount of saving was ever worth this sort of garbage. Could never tell him, ‘course - mr. Zentenzai’d helped his boys out numerous times when the gutter was the only place to call home. That sewage-like excuse for food had its nostalgic merits in the end, his train of thought eventually admitted.

“EVERYONE RISE AND BOW FOR PATRIARCH SHIMAZU!”

The call snapped Kazegami out of his mind and he, much less by his own agency and much more due to the officers he was squeezed in between moved before him, bowed as deeply as his hips could manage. A mere inch before him, his boss did the same, as did all the others. While Kazegami personally didn’t see it, muffled sounds of socked soles massaging soft tatami painted the picture of a tranquil, yet firm character - one who enshrouded himself in a cloak of harmony and peace to hide the traces of a vile, heartless demon within. The ‘muffs’ eventually came to an end with a series of them in quick succession, no doubt the big boss sitting down. As if they all shared one consciousness, they shouted:

“GOOD MORNING, PATRIARCH SHIMAZU!”

“Good morning,” Shimazu replied. Kazegami noticed a change in shadows before him and looked up slightly to see that Seiryu had sat down. The second he did, Kazegami was forced back up straight by his colleagues beside him. He took a moment to eye the character sitting there at the far end of the rectangular dojo, before the beautiful calligraphy and family arms. Shimazu had grayed since Kazegami had last seen him, which wasn’t uncommon for a man in his eighties, but still left an impression on him. Normally, these high-ranking types would dye their hair to appear youthful and strong - however, Shimazu almost appeared for flaunt his fragility, now that Kazegami looked closer. The kimono the big boss wore hung loosely over what appeared to be atrophied limbs, and his face appeared hollow and empty. The only sign left of strength in the man’s form was his gaze - and his gaze brought low the eyes of every man he aimed it at. Kazegami would’ve analysed further, but the big boss’s eyes and his connected for a minute and he was forced to avert them - none would speculate the reasons for Shimazu’s appearance, apparently.

“Brothers, I trust you all know why you are here.” His voice left aftershocks in the floor. “It’s rare that I have to summon you all, but there are currently a number of matters we must settle as one - three of them, in fact.” He held out a hand and one of the two men flanking him knelt down, head bowed, and offered him a holographic envelope, which Shimazu accepted and tapped. It was brought up over all the leader’s plates and opened to reveal a letter.

“Firstly, there’s the matter of this. There’s been speculations that one of our innermost circle has been moving ahead with the Planetary Avenue revitalisation project without any of our brothers nor my consent. As you all are aware of, this project is paramount if we plan on expanding our sphere of control deeper into the Raygonian business district. Therefore, we must all be ready to act at the same time, and if one link breaks, the whole chain snaps. Patriarch of the Hattori family, Tetsuda Hattori - step forward.”

Kazegami allowed his gaze to scan the hall in search of the name’s owner. The whole clan was mostly human, though there were a fair share of non-humans, too. Hattori appeared to fit the latter demographic, as a tall Raygonian rose from his table, stepped over to the centre of the room and tried visibly not to look nervous.

“Tetsuda Hattori,” Shimazu began, “you’ve--”

“Patriarch Shimazu, I’m so sorry, I--!”

“Silence! You’ve clearly overstepped your boundaries as a family patriarch, and though you sit on the inner council, it appears you believe you are above your brethren. How do you plead?”

“Shimazu, please, I didn’t--!”

“-How- do you plead?”

The Raygonian blinked a number of times, constantly looking back to his lieutenants, all of whom were biting their nails anxiously. “I-... I-...”

“Cowardice is not a quality I would expect of my greatest men. Well? Will you confess to your crimes against your brethren?” A slick, metallic hiss sounded behind Hattori, followed by an energised hum. A suited Qurok, one Kazegami and everyone else in the room knew as Shion “the Tiger of Shimazu” Tenjima, had draw his blade, a plasma-edged katana. The Qurok lifted it over his head and held the pose.

“... Or will you choose the deepest pit of hell?”

“Shimazu, I beg you, have mercy!”

The officers around the room gulped as one. Shimazu’s eyes grew darker than they already were, which at this point was quite the feat.

“Mercy? Would you grant mercy to a traitor looking to make an extra few credits by backstabbing his brethren?”

Hattori was silent, only hulks and sobs making it through his inability to respond. Shimazu clicked his tongue. “Didn’t think so. Tenjima.”

The Qurok nodded. Hattori lowered his head a little further. In the back of the hall, his lieutenants were begging for Shimazu to spare him. Alas, however, the pleas quickly on deaf ears, though Tenjima’s blade fell quicker. In the fraction of a second it took for the hall to blink, the Qurok had parted Hattori from his head. Luckily for the floor, the plasma blade seared the wound to a crisp, so only charcoal dust left its smudges upon it. A pair of suited men grabbed the body and dragged it outside. Tenjima took the head to Shimazu, knelt down and offered it to him. Shimazu nodded and grabbed it by the scalp and lifted it up for all to see.

“Let this be a remind as to what happens to those who betray the clan for their own profit.” He tossed the head aside and it was quickly collected by a servant. “We are a brotherhood - act like it. The next traitor I catch will not be the only one in their family to lose his head. Consider this case an act of mercy.” His glaring eyes fixed themselves on the late Hattori’s lieutenants, both of whom were staring hopelessly at the floor. Shimazu took the chopstick pair from his table and gripped them neatly. “Our next topic,” he said as he ate a piece of fish. “Kamina Yamado, report.”

Kamina Yamado, patriarch of the Yamado family, first lieutenant of the Shimazu family and leader of the New Macau branch on Raygon 8, bowed his head and turned his body so he sat facing Shimazu. “Yes, patriarch. A number of our subsidiaries have made various calls for aid against the increasingly rampant attacks of the Armaioli and the Bengalas. We suspect both of these are receiving considerable funds from Adamantium Bank, sir - it seems they are still unhappy about that court case two years back.”

“Ah, yes, the case of Shimazu-Protonae of April-2, 971. I wish I could see that wilted weed’s sorry little mug every single day before I go to bed, but alas, the recording will do. So you’re saying they’re back with a vengeance?” Shimazu took a sip of wine.

Yamado nodded. “Yes, sir. The Armaioli and Bengalas have never been pushovers, but this is a whole different force we’re dealing with. In the span of under six months, their weaponry has changed from kinetics to laser, even occasional rocketry. We suspect Adamantium may have provided them with an PSMA-19B, also known as a Big Boy.”

There came a pensive hum from across the hall. It was Ira Gamagori, a mountain of a bonobo Simmie dressed in a large white light gray kimono that starkly contrasted his borderline black fur. He scratched at his temple, pulled the finger away, tossed his arms up and turned his palms to all those around while bringing his arms outwards. Shimazu rested his chin in a soft grip.

“It’s evident that Adamantium believes we’ve had free reign of New Macau for long enough. Which groups are particularly asking for aid?”

“The Celestial Dragon Triads are in a particularly poor shape, sir. Mr. Liu has made multiple appeals for monetary aid and additional manpower.”

“Mister who?” Shimazu questioned without really seeming to care for the answer.

“Mr. Po Qing Liu, sir,” Yamado repeated as diligently as he had said it the first time. “The head of the Celestial Dragon Triads. He also goes by the name Uncle Po.”

“Ah, yes, Uncle Po. Forgive me, all these subsidiaries are hard to remember at times. So, they wish for funding and men, is that it?”

“Yes, sir. I reckon they’d also like additional arms, though they chose to leave that out as to not seem greedy.”

Shimazu shook his head. “These damn triads. Can’t trust them with anything on their own. When we demand that they hold the lower tier casinos, they damn well will.” The patriarch scoffed as he took another sip of lukewarm sake. “Make it so, then. Who will travel to Raygon to support our subjects in battle?”

Nearly every officer turned towards Shimazu and bowed forward while seated, all exclaiming different things while all sounding exactly the same: “Me and my family will fight for the Shimazu!”

The patriarch smirked. “Such eagerness is all a leader could ask for, my brethren. However, I cannot risk sending all of you. We still have businesses to run, after all. The fifty of you with the most men will each send a thousand; the fifty of you with the richest accounts will each send a million. That should cover expenses for weaponry, as well as supplies for the war.”

While some disputes arose as to who was the strongest and richest, the rankings within the clan were quite well established. The matter was quickly resolved and orders delegated. Shimazu turned to Yamado. “Any other matters to report?”

“As a matter of fact, sir… There is one.” Shimazu raised a brow and gestured for Yamado to continue, but everyone in the room could see that the man was reluctant.

“... Sources have confirmed that an individual of particular interest has been particularly involved in the conquest of our territory.”

“Yes, yes, I understand. Will you speak his name, then?”

Yamado looked at the floor. “It’s… It’s Shawn, sir.”

The room fell silent. A number of the patriarchs in the middle of eating dropped their food in their laps. A number of them also coughed up the wine they had been drinking. Gamagori offered an anxious ook. In the midst of the silence, Shimazu began to quietly snicker, a snicker which slowly became a hateful laughter. Everyone in the room exchanged worried glances.

“... One would think a man like him would eventually learn the meaning of death.”

“What will you have us do about him, sir?” Yamado asked. Shimazu’s cup was refilled with sake and the patriarch raised it in Yamado’s direction.

“Well, send him back to the grave, of course - and make sure he stays there this time. Preferably in pieces - each hidden inside every separate sewage heap on Raygon. Spare his head, though. I want that mounted on my bed stand.”

Yamado nodded. “It shall be done.”

Shimazu pointed a warning finger at Yamado. “Make certain he is dead this time. If he shows himself again in a year, I will have your head on my bed stand, is that clear?”

Yamado swallowed and bowed his head. “Y-yes, sir.”

Shimazu offered a seething sigh through his teeth. “Well, my mood has been fouled by these ill tidings. Our final matter will pass quickly. It’s the matter of your little loan, Abe Ashikaga.”

A very vexed man, dressed in a green kimono patterned with several golden dragons, turned to face Shimazu. Abe Ashikaga, patriarch of the Ashikaga family, a Shimazu family lieutenant, and also the richest man in the organisation, dressed himself in all the attires and accessories money could buy. He practically didn’t have a single patch of skin not covered by gold and jewelry except for his face. His teeth, however, were all forged in platinum. “Thank you so much, great patriarch, for acknowledging our plea.”

Shimazu raised a palm. “No need to thank me. What is your plight?”

“A Halcyon citizen burrowed a considerable sum from our family, yet it would seem he has no intention of paying it back. Again, we would like to stress that this sum is mountainous. We humbly come before our brethren to request aid in apprehending this thief and scattering his body parts across the cluster.”

Shimazu raised a brow. “Why do you need to ask us? We all know that you are both well-equipped and well-connected enough to handle this matter by yourself. You need no mandate from us.”

Ashikaga grit his platinum teeth. “In all honesty, great patriarch, my family are much too occupied with the turf wars against Og’slough on Ripp-7 and Bick-2. Cumulus is also giving us difficulties on Wosmo-4.”

“I thought you had won that fight, Ashikaga,” Hiroki Awano, patriarch of the Awano family and head of Shimazu activities on Aether (also known as Sage-3), pointed out with a hint of spite in his voice. Ashikaga lowered his head.

“We suspect Cumulus has hired additional mercenaries. We have seen traces of SkullCorp battery cartridges, though their age may indicate--”

“So you’re saying you have neither won the war, nor know what is keeping you from winning it? Is this truly an effort worthy of the Ashikaga name, Abe?”

“Awano, that’s enough,” Shimazu warned. The man quieted down swiftly. The patriarch curled his lips. “Your failures on Wosmo-4 will be dealt with later, Ashikaga. What’s important now is bringing this thief to justice.” Shimazu stood up, turned and took his sword from its mount. While facing the altar upon which the mount stood, he spoke, “We cannot afford to let someone as lowly and cowardly as this run off with Shimazu Clan money. It would make us appear weak and lax - the soul of Shimazu would be forfeit.”

In the blink of an eye, Shimazu drew the blade from its sheath and pointed it directly at Ashikaga. “Very well, Ashikaga - your request has been heard. You have asked your family for help, and a family sticks together through thick and thin.” As he sheathed the blade and remounted it on the altar, he called a name: “Okita Seiryu.”

Kazegami snapped to attention as his boss’s name was called, and Seiryu turned to face Shimazu, bowed while seated. “Yes, patriarch?”

“Your family has a long history of cleaning up the messes of its extended kin. Your talents are many and your track record is flawless. Can the Shimazu clan trust that you’ll maintain that record this time, as well?”

Seiryu bowed again. “Of course, great patriarch. It shall be done.” Shimazu nodded.

“Very well. Convene with Ashikaga about this target’s details. The meeting is adjourned.”

Everyone rose and bowed as Shimazu left the hall with his bodyguards. As he left, all the others shouted, “THANK YOU FOR YOUR WISDOM, PATRIARCH SHIMAZU!” Once he was out of the room, rivers of flesh dispersed through the various paper slider doors that made up the dojo’s walls. Kazegami watched Seiryu walk over to Ashikaga and start a conversation he was too far out of earshot to eavesdrop on. Before long, he was out in the courtyard, where the various families gathered into small cliques and each went to their own. Kazegami stuck a cigarette between his lips, snapped it alight with a lighter and stuck his hands in the pockets of his black suit pants. He found himself a somewhat out-of-the-way corner to lean against and went about his smoke. Before long, he heard a familiar voice greet him.

“Good morning, big brother Kazegami. How was the meeting?” Kazegami’s eyes fell on the innocent-looking face of Natsugi Hanekawa, one of his family members. He blew a plume of smoke in a direction away from Hanekawa’s face and flashed him a wry grin.

“Eh, nothing special. We might get a job soon, though.”

“A job, sir?” Hanekawa’s eyes seemed to light up. Kazegami shrugged.

“Well, it’s either us or Matsuda. It’s the kind of job I doubt Seiryu would be willing to do on his own. Got ourselves a little debtor on the run, see.”

“Big shot?”

“Dunno yet. Uncle Ashikaga wasn’t too detailed in his description. Although…” Kazegami squashed the cigarette stump against the stone wall and flicked it away. “... He did mention that the target’s Halcyonian, which could be interesting.”

“Halcyonian, huh. Could be nobility, sir.”

“Could be, could be.” Kazegami would be lying if he’d said the thought of peeling the skin off a Halcyon princeling wasn’t the least bit enticing.

“Kazegami, Hanekawa.” The two of them turned to see Seiryu, who came over to them with his hands tucked into the hems of his robe. The two of them bowed, Hanekawa keeling much lower than Kazegami, and offered their patriarch attentive looks.

“Yes, big brother Seiryu?” Kazegami offered.

“We’ve got our man. Halcyonian entrepreneur, goes by the name of Arthur Lewin. Last observed skipping out on a bar tab in a space station establishment over Parousia along with another individual designated as Patrick Lewin, who, according to their Mi-Self profiles, is Arthur’s brother. Whether they are in this together or not is not a concern, either way.” Seiryu tapped his wristband and sent the personal files the Ashikaga had managed to acquire on the two.

Kazegami gave the file a skim and scratched his neck. “Want us to just get Arthur, sir?”

“No, get Patrick, too. Brother Ashikaga stressed especially hard that he wanted to make examples of them both. How you do it is up to you, as long as you make it messy and public. I trust you’ve got some tricks.”

Kazegami smirked and shrugged again. “Eh, one or two.”

Seiryu nodded back with a wry smile. “That’s my boy. Good luck to you. Make sure not to leave your family behind, now. They need the experience.”

“Roger that, sir.”

“Well, then. Have a good day.” With that, Seiryu went down the road to the courtyard gates to an awaiting hover-limo. Kazegami and Hanekawa exchanged glances.

“So, where do we start, sir?”

Kazegami tugged at his studded chin thoughtfully, then cracked a smirk. “First off, we’ll need a lot of guns.”

Summary!

Yakuza time, @Crispy Octopus!
The Shimazu clan, a huge yakuza group in Raygon space, has a big meeting. First matter is some inside corruption, solved by executing the culprit; second matter is that the Raygonian subsidiaries are having problems: Adamantium is making moves against the Yakuza. Turns out also that Shawn is somehow involved and the yakuza want him dead. Finally, Arthur’s shenanigans are brought up - turns out he borrowed money from one of the yakuza’s families. Nobuhide Kazegami is put on the case to catch him and his brother and spread their body parts across the cluster!

Eden(Small-scale Space NRP)

@bloonewb, hey, fam!

Yup, we're open and happy to take in more! You got a concept yet or would you like some time to think about that? We've got a discord, too, the link to which I can PM you in a bit.

Civilization V - The Broken Moon

The Underhall Clan - Turn 1

Actions and Stuff

X) Macdoug and Deepstone are both sent down to Dougsdahl with fifty soldiers to retake it and its farmlands from the unseen enemy.
A) Huntsmaster Astrid takes her hunters on a scour of the mountains in search of goats to tame.
E) Thorfinn’s son, Harald, is sent to the forest valleys below in search of more moonrocks.

The news of the magical stone had reignited a manic curiousness that had laid dormant within the Underhalls for decades. For a brief week, the populace of Dvergadypi were living in blissful distraction from their collapsing clandom, pilgrims ascending the main tunnels in order to lay down their offerings of respect and piety at the feet of the stone dwarf now holding up their crumbling cave entrance. The Underhalls grew anxious at the thought of so much food going to the gods rather than to the bellies of the living, but to halt perhaps the first unifying moment of the past few years would devastate any remaining claim the Underhalls had on the position as leaders of the Dvergadypi dwarves.

Thorfinn tugged disapprovingly at his beard as he surveyed the train of pilgrims shuffling past the statue, laying down their offerings and making u-turns back towards the mountain’s depths. They would need to replenish their larders if there was to be any hope of surviving the rest of the year. His tugging hand moved to a bronze seal pinning his velvet and brown square-patterned wool cloak together at his neck. He turned it upwards at cast it a glance - the seal of his clan, one still untested by time and trials. Perhaps this would be the beginning of its thousand year dynasty - or the final fizzle before the winds of fate extinguish the last remaining hope in Dvergadypi.

Millennia of history - gone in the blink of an eye.

He would not have it. With a clenched fist around the medallion, he called, “Cousin Halfdan! Warchief Donald! Huntsmaster Astrid!”

The three summoned dwarves appeared before him, bowed curtly and each offered a, “Yes, yarl Thorfinn?”

“Our work to restore the magnificence of Dvergadypi starts today. For too long have we waited for time to pass underground, bickering amongst ourselves while our underlands fall into shambles of what they used to be - what they used to represent. None of us have seen the true glory of our halls as they were meant to be, but by my pride as an Underhall, we shall see that glory restored!”

The three dwarves nodded proudly and hammered their chests in approval. “What will you have us do to make it so, great yarl?” asked Donald. Thorfinn pointed at him and Halfdan.

“Warchief, you will accompany the thane along with fifty of your best. Together, you shall reclaim Dougsdahl and its surrounding farmlands. I want you, cousin, to bring whatever workforce you need to reassume farming once the lands are retaken. We need to bolster our larders before our work can begin.”

Halfdan and Donald exchanged suspicious glances, but nodded either way. “It shall be done, cousin,” Halfdan vowed. “Are we lucky, the enemy will have left the storages untouched, meaning we already can recover enough to last a while longer at the very least.”

“Very good. You may begin.” While the two of them went to gather their units, Thorfinn turned to the huntsmaster. “Huntsmaster Astrid, you will assist in local food production.”

“What will you have me do, great yarl?” Astrid asked politely with a bowed head. She was a Sinclair, the only one of them to hold position so close to the yarl’s family as the court’s huntsmaster. She was powerfully built and clad in wood and skins, with a patterned, long scarf around her neck in the colours of her family. Her hair was chestnut and cut short along her temples. The rest was bundled into a long ponytail running down her back. Thorfinn pointed to the mountains.

“There once ran goats all throughout these hills. Their milk, wool and meat would all be necessary supplies if we are to bolster our people. I want you to take your hunters and scour the canyons and hilltops in search of our old allies. Bring as many of them back as you can - preferably alive.”

Astrid bowed. “At once, great yarl.” Then she stormed off to gather her colleagues and acquire weaponry. Thorfinn pursed his lips, making them almost visible through his great mass of beard. Behind him, lady Ellinor Underhall approached and squeezed calmly his shoulder.

“It’s refreshing to see you like this, Thorfinn,” she whispered to him affectionately. The yarl offered her a glance before looking back ahead.

“There’s no doubt about it, though - we will need more of those wish stones if we are to recover our greatness.”

Her grip tightened a bit. “Yes… A great deal can be accomplished with magic. They do say, after all, that the first descendants of the Stoneshaper could speak to the mountain - make it take the shapes they wanted. I mean, how else would the Hall of Gereg ever have been built?”

“Centuries of labour?” Thorfinn offered.

“Nnno. They must’ve had something like these stones. In truth, my dear, we’re really just furthering the accomplishments of our ancestors by acquiring such artifacts, no?”

Thorfunn hummed. “I suppose.”

Ellinor grinned back and stepped up in front of her husband. “So, why don’t we send our son to find us some?”

“Which one of them?”
“Why, who else but your heir? Harald is young, untested and, worst of all, bored out of his mind. It would do him some good to get out and do something with his life, instead of wasting away inside that cave all day, waiting for us to die.”

Thorfinn furrowed his brow. “Ellinor, dear, we’re Underhall - descendants of the Brownbeards! We don’t go outside like those rascally Goldbeards would!”

Ellinor frowned and took her husband’s hands in her own. “Well, you said it yourself - for too long, have we waited underground. Maybe it’s time for certain traditions to make way for new ones?” Thorfinn wrinkled his nose. Ellinor sighed. “Besides, it’s clear that this stone didn’t come from inside the mountain. It originated from, well, somewhere outside. We cannot let it slip through our fingers just because of some old norms demand following.”

Thorfinn sighed. “Fine. Harald!”

While Ellinor struggled to contain her excitement, the young dwarf came over from some distance away, where he had been waiting with his siblings as was tradition. He knelt before his father and kept his eyes locked on the ground. “Yes, father?”

“You may rise. Your mother has request that we put you to work and I am in agreement.”

The gray shades of boredom drained the colour from Harald’s face. At this point, it was difficult to see whether he could control his rolling eyes or not. “Fine, what hole will I be inspecting this time?”

“Calm down, son - we’re not sending you into the caves.”

Harald blinked. “What? Wait, what’s this?”

Thorfinn pointed down to the mountain path leading to the valleys below. “Gather your closest friends and ten of the warchief’s men. You can take what supplies we can spare, but expect to live off of nature’s bounty for the most part. Be on the lookout for anything - our kind has always fared poorly above ground.”

“B-but where am I going?” Harald asked uncertainly.

“You are going to find us more wish stones - as many as you can carry with you back home.” Thorfinn placed a hand on Harald’s shoulder, who seemed to feel its weight to be way greater than it actually was. “You will be the cornerstone in our people’s restoration to greatness.”

Harald blinked again and nodded wordlessly. Some time passed before he could formulate works again, “Y-yes, father. I w-will bring glory to the Underhalls! Thank you for this!”

“Make us proud, son,” Ellinor said warmly and gave him a wet kiss on the cheek.

An hour later, the lad and his escort had begun to descend the mountain, heading for the untamed valleys below.

Eden(Small-scale Space NRP)

Location:

Raygon 8, Lower Orbit.

Domestic Commuter Port 111-201

We’re back again with an even better sale! Up to 99% off on ALL imported protein-based products! Keep an eye out for the Sustynance label on the package to participate!

This post and the products listed within have been brought to you in collaboration with Sustynance™© - your food; your health.

Subject:

Name: Lobutos Zigg

Age: 41 cycles around Raygon 0.

Residence: In transit to: Bick 2.

Occupation: Unemployed.

Workplace: Between jobs.

Current Debt to the Adamantium Bank: 15 999 ITC Credits.

Post Theme

---

Mr. Zigg adjusted his facial disguise somewhat. It was a white clay mask (plastic in reality, of course), marked with the sketches and swirls befitting of an acolyte of Debrontism, a Putt faith with considerable following on Raygon 8, even amongst non-Putts. Behind him, his wife and two kids trailed anxiously as they pushed and mobbed their way through the river of life flowing towards the distant gates up ahead. Mr. Zigg made certain to eye their surroundings often and vigilantly - they weren’t safe until they were off-world.

And even then…

“Lobutos!” came a sharp whisper from behind him. He turned to stare into his wife’s equally masked face head on, and then down at her finger, which she pointed at their youngest, Lobuna, who struggled to keep pace. With four quick paces, Mr. Zigg made his way to the back of their group and pulled his daughter to himself before she could be swallowed up by the living sea.

“Don’t fall behind,” he cautioned her. Lobuna was on the brink of tears, visible even through her smaller mask. Mr. Zigg looked around again. A few strangers had turned to eye them, but most simply ignored them.

“Oi, keep moving,” came a snide grunt from the person behind them. Mr. and Mrs. Zigg, as well as Lobuna and Sambel, all took a moment to stare in fright at an absolute beast of a Qurok. Mr. Zigg grit his teeth, even as every nerve in his body were firing for him to run, and simply pushed his daughter on, along with his wife and son. The Qurok offered another surly snort, but didn’t seem to have further inquiries as long as the line kept moving.

“You’re such a piece of shit, you know that?” Mrs. Zigg whispered to Mr. Zigg as he passed by her. His expression didn’t change much, however; mostly due to the mask, of course, but even the parts of his face that were visible gave little sign of change. He merely sighed and gave both the children another gentle push so that they were a distance away from them.

“Can we not do this right now?”

“No, I think we will. Listen here, Lobutos - not only did you get us in this fucking deep debt, but -then- you decide that we’re running off to escape--”

Mr. Zigg tapped his index over where his mouth would’ve been, but this didn’t seem to deter her. “I should just turn you in, you know.” Mr. Zigg groaned. “As soon as your days are up, there’ll be a bounty on you - and on us. It doesn’t matter where we go, Lobutos - we’re dead when you’re with us.”

Mr. Zigg rubbed his temples. The gates were getting closer and the crowd was thickening even more. “Woman, can this please wait? Chew me out all you want once we’re onboard, alright? Just… Keep it down out here.”

Mrs. Zigg glared daggers at him. “I want a divorce once we land, is that clear?”

Mr. Zigg drew a long breath. “What made you come along if you’re just going to leave me when we land, huh?” She hesitated to answer, and as her voice broke through the mask, it was interrupted by a deafening announcement thundering from the speakers above.

”ATTENTION, ALL PASSENGERS BOARDING COMMUTER SHUTTLE ONE-ONE-FOUR-SIX-EIGHT-THREE TO… BICK TWO. WE WILL NOW COMMENCE BOARDING. PLEASE HAVE YOUR ARMBANDS READY FOR SCANNING.”

Mr. Zigg took a deep breath. As Mrs. Zigg helped the kids prepare, he prayed to every conceivable deity that the Bank hadn’t blocked his right of travel. They four of them eventually arrived at the gate, where bent-necked, somber-looking Cybe servant with modified scanner hands went over armbands.

Sambel and Lobuna held out their wristbands. Pling! it went twice. The Cybe sighed mechanically and gave them each a scan. “Welcome…” it droned sourly.

Next was Mrs. Zigg. The Cybe gave her armband a scan. Pling! it went once. “Welcome…” She walked on by and begun herding the children towards the entrance tunnel.

Mr. Zigg walked over to have his band scanned. The Cybe moved his hand over and, pling!

“Wait…” it droned uncertainly. Mr. Zigg froze. The Cybe made the effort to lift its head and actually look at Lobutos. Inside the entrance gate, Mr. Zigg saw his children pulling at his wife’s dress disguise and pointing in his direction with worried expressions. The Cybe’s scanner hand manifested a thumb, which it licked with a mechanical tongue. It then proceeded to scrub away some muck on Mr. Zigg’s mask. Its expressionless face nonetheless managed to form the grumpiest frown Zigg had ever seen.

“At least keep your attire right if you’re gonna pose as one of us.”

Mr. Zigg blinked. “Excuse me?”

The Cybe curled its nonexistent lips. “Debrontists take care to keep their attire clean. You don’t, so you’re definitely a poser. Anyway, you’re stopping the line, so keep moving.” With a shove, the Cybe cast Mr. Zigg behind itself, mumbling something along the lines of “damn prick”.

Mr. Zigg looked dumbfounded for a second, but couldn’t delay for even a second before the river of flesh pushed him onwards. He looked down the tunnel - his family must’ve gone on ahead. As he followed the hallway, he vaguely picked up the Bickese news being broadcast in the background.

“... and starting tomorrow, DegmaCorp factories will be bolstering local defenses in response to increased rates of worker uprisings on Bick 2. Colonial security encourage all citizens to remain indome as much as possible in the coming weeks, and…”

“Shit, did you hear that?” Mr. Zigg permitted himself to eavesdrop on an adjacent chatting pair. They were both Quroks, dressed in sooty, orange work suits, hems and neck ringed with metal.

“Yeah,” said the other, “I hope Pree is doing alright. She works in that factory there.”

“Really? Shit, how’s she taking it?”

The other one offered a mocking laugh. “What, working under DegmaCorp? She hates every second of it.”

Zigg bit into a nail. Every damn time, there always had to be something.

The door to the shuttle approached, and once more, the river of flesh flowing into it got considerably denser. Mr. Zigg eyed the ticket on his wristband. Had Adamantium Bank really not barred him from leaving Raygon 8? What could they possibly gain from that? Even as he arrived at the economy class seats assigned to his family, he ignored his wife’s scoldings in favour of pondering the questions filling his mind. Before he could reach a conclusion, however, an announcement blared from above.

”Attention, passengers. Interstellar travel will soon commence. Please have a seat and fasten your seatbelts in preparation for take-off.”

It wasn’t the first time Zigg had flown - he had once joined a ship test at his company’s 200th anniversary party. However, he still had to teach his family his to properly buckle up and affix oxygen masks. Economy class masks were one-size-fits-all, which they absolutely didn’t. Being of the majority species, Zigg and his family were relatively lucky, but he took a moment to eye the various passengers whose mouthes were much too small for the Raygonian-sized masks given to them. He shook his head disapprovingly and laid back into his hard plastic seat. Their seats were pretty far ahead in the economy cabin, and ahead, he heard the cheerful chuckle of lower-business class travellers, waited on by a Cybe cabin crew. A green bile of envy filled his chest, but he subdued it in time for one more announcement.

”Attention, passengers. Welcome aboard commuter shuttle 114683 to Bick 2. My name is Raepsol Flux and I’m your captain for this flight…”

Oh, great. A Petalos…

“... We’ll be expecting a relatively peaceful flight with mild solar winds, limited radiation and only trace radio disturbances. Keep in mind that there are bags in the baskets on the seats in front of you for when we reach the gateways - on behalf of the crew, we beg you to please make use of them if you experience nausea, uncontrollable drooling or spontaneous bleeding. On that note, we at X-Pressure Interstellar would like to remind all passengers that we are -not- responsible for any injuries, discomforts or chronic diseases acquired aboard one of our flights. Make certain to keep your leaded blankets handy for when we pass by Bick 0 and have a pleasant flight. And now, a quick word from our sponsors…”

While advertisements blared in the background, Zigg dug up the unnecessarily heavy leaded blankets from under their four seats, keeping them at the ready by his stumpy feet. As the advertisements neared their end, the ship began to rumble with movement. Considering they were still in the lower atmosphere, the craft needed considerable energy to take off. The tickets hadn’t been cheap, but the central space station known as the Belt was known for being a den of outlaws, tax evaders, and indebted scum. The patrolling private police and Bobbies were too many to pass by. Due to the price and rare use, sub-orbit transports were incredibly rare. It had been mostly luck that he had found one, really.

As the ship began to accelerate and the Gs began to pick up, Zigg drifted into a deep sleep. He would likely wake up at some point once they were further out into the Raygon system, but for now, he just needed his senses to relax.

The journey was rather uneventful. His daughter Lobuna had to vomit when they exited the gate in the Bick system, but that was about it. As they approached the sorry excuse for a planet, a buzz indicated the captain was about to speak. Lobuna and Sambel glued their faces to the aisle window, marveling at the silvery surface of the planet below.



Bick 2… Possibly one of the remotest inhabited planets in the Raygonian Triangle. It had no atmosphere to speak of, nor a magnetic field to create one. Its iron core had frozen solid aeons ago, and the atmosphere, which had been speculated to be acidic and lethal, had drifted away as a result. The silvery surface was speckled with enormous pit mines blasting kilometres of grey, glittering debris into space above. The gravity on Bick 2 was but an eighth of that on Raygon - Mr. Zigg could already feel the muscle atrophy kick in. A prolonged stay would make it hard for him and his family to ever return to Raygon. The “planet” itself had a population of 14 million, mostly miners exploiting the enormous quantities of lithium and tritium. The local superpower was, as the news had cautioned, DegmaCorp, a subsidiary of Og’slough Bros. Asteroid Mining.

Mr. Zigg prayed he’d find some form of work there.

“Dear passengers, welcome to Bick 2. We’ll be landing at Amaterasu Space Port in roughly one hour and fifteen minutes, Raygon 8 time. We kindly ask all passengers to please take their seats and fasten their seatbelts for landing. Once again, we would like to thank our sponsors for this magnificent trip, and hope your trips, too, have been further improved by the presence of such wonderful products as…”

While the advertisements blared once more, Mr. Zigg opened a holographic screen from his wristband. After tapping and swiping the ads away, he found that the wristband already had connected to the local network satellite. He brought up a feed on the local news and casually let his eyes scan the page. Network speed was akin to a snail’s pace out here, worse than even bottom tier connections. Videos wouldn’t load and neither would pictures half the time. For the first time in his life, Mr. Zigg had to resort to reading the transcriptions. His brow furrowed as he did.

Local authorities have received a tip from the Extra-Raygonial Bureau of Investigation (ERBI) that a wanted criminal gang leader has arrived on the planetary surface in order to assist local terrorists against DegmaCorp operations. The CEO of Og’slough Brothers Asteroid Mining, Arrto Og’slough, condemns the cowardly and unwarranted actions of the terrorist uprisings and promises to send reinforcements to Bick 2 in response to the arrival of this unknown gang leader.

Mr. Zigg blinked and frowned. He straightened out his back and looked back and forth in his shuttle. From what he had seen back on Raygon, his co-passengers didn’t seem much like criminals.

Maybe except that one monster of a Qurok…

The “bump!” and “clank” of metal arms clutching the ship knocked him off his train of thought. His family were already disembarking and Mr. Zigg rushed after them in a hurry, dragging their luggage behind him.

They exited into a hallway, where the sea of people once again thickened around them. Up above, hanging from the ceiling, TV screens displayed minutely updates on the uprisings, which, according to them, were thankfully happening far away from the space port.

As they approached the customs up ahead, Mr. Zigg noticed the Quroks from the platform back on Raygon; furthermore, he noticed that they had noticed him, too, and were staring quite fiercely at him. Mr. Zigg averted his eyes. What was their problem?

“Hey, daddy?” came a whimpering voice from Sambel. Mr. Zigg sighed.

“What’s up, sport?” He looked down at his son, who was pointing up at one of the TV screens. Mr. Zigg followed the finger and felt his heart sting with fear. Around him, whispers fumed like poisonous gas and eyes aimed their sights on him like guns. The TV screens were all displaying images of him - his face.

“... Authorities have now been informed by the ERBI that the criminal gang leader previously mentioned to have landed on Bick 2 has been identified as Lobutos Zigg, a wanted mass murderer and gun smuggler from the central tiers of Raygon 8. Furthermore, due to the potential danger this individual, Adamantium Bank has announced that they, too, will send monetary and military support to quell the uprisings on Bick 2. This criminal is…”

Zigg’s eyes slowly rolled over in the direction of his family, but Mrs. Zigg had already disappeared with their children. Way behind the crowd, he heard distant shouts for “daddy!”, while the mob closed around him ever tighter.

“Make way! Step aside! ACPD! ACPD!” The mechanical voices of Cybes backed up by gorilla grunts and growls warned that the authorities weren’t far off. However, Zigg could simply stand there, hardly able to breathe.

“... Why…” was all he managed to say before being tackled to the floor by a gorilla dressed in a private police uniform. The tackle knocked him out cold, and Zigg was taken away.

TLDR!

Zigg escapes Raygon ‘cuz debt. Goes to Bick 2, aka. the Boonies^2. Family hates him for it, but hey, what can you do. Hints are dropped that there’s some serious bizz going on on Bick 2, mostly uprisings and stuff. When they land, turns out that Zigg is framed as a criminal big shot sent to help the rebels and is arrested. Fade to black.

Divinus: The God RP, Mk. III. Finished in Record Time™!

Shengshi

10MP/17FP

A day had passed since Ashalla’s visit, and the Jiangzhou had moved into the Giant’s Bath, drifting lazily in circles around the centre of the pool. The lush overgrowth of the jungle below had, with time, crawled up along the crater side, clawing to the stone banks of the Bath itself in the form of verdant shrubs and plump trees. Lillies and lotus littered the shore, and mudworms were frolicking on the tiny, ring-like beach encircling the pool adjacent to the crater edge. A few Servants had gathered on the beach to say their farewells to this world, and a host of Talemonesians from Biashara had come to marvel at the presence of divinity, forming a praying crowd on the eastern side of the crater. The snake sat atop his tower, plucking at the strings of his harp absent-mindedly. A small flock of birds perched atop the roof of his castle tower, singing joyously along with the harp.

“How go the final preparations?” mumbled the snake in no particular directions. Out of the shadows, almost, He Bo came out and kowtowed.

“They proceed as planned, Your Lordship. All will be ready within the hour.”

The snake blasted a puff of air through the nose. “Within the hour… To think…”

“My Lord?” He Bo offered.

The snake shook his head while still facing away from the servant. “Nevermind. See to it that there are no delays. We leave when the preparations are completed. See to it that everyone is aboard - those that are not, will be left behind.”

“As His Lordship commands,” He Bo affirmed dutifully and disappeared back into the palace. The snake let out a sigh and continued to survey the landscape to the song of the birds and the harp.

The water overboard splashed in tune.

Or perhaps not entirely in tune, for, while there was a rhythm to its rushing, it was not so much musical as the prosaic sound of something paddling, one sweep after another. It came closer, until a thud sounded from the lower side of the keel, followed by grumbling and a scrabbling sound. Something black and wormlike emerged from beyond the parapet; then, a misshapen iron clutch that grasped its edge, then another, and, finally, a head with more than one mouth too many.

One of the hands saluted by rising in a clenched fist, which almost sent the figure flying back down. By some miracle, however, it held on.

”Superintendant Vrog, reporting to His Lordship for audience!” it gargled, loud enough to spook away the singing birds. In a lower tone, another mouth added, ”Permission to speak freely,” and a third, “And to come on board, it’s a spitting bother to hang here.”

The snake spun around in a haste, knocking his harp over and causing it to partially crack. “Ugh! Foul creature! Who are you?! What are you doing here?!” He gave the air a sniff and grimaced. “Did Narzhak send you?”

”Heh, thanks.” The various mouths bristled with the smiles of sharp and unclean teeth. ”I’m the big one below’s special-works gutface. You could say he’s sent me to do scrap, but here? I got a thing as brought me that’s just between you and me.” He picked at one row of teeth with a finger. ”Bit hard to talk when I’m swinging here, though.”

The snake blinked bepuzzled, but quickly reclaimed his furious expression. “No - no! Forget I asked. I care not who you are or what your business is. Now begone from my ship, lest I will make you!” As if to stress his point, the snake pointed angrily in a direction leading away from his ship, which, in all fairness, could have been any.

There was a collective grunt from under Vrog’s helmet. ”Always like this, ain’t it,” he wheezed, ”Always the same spit. Soon as I turn up, it’s on with the get outs and gut offs. Nobody cares what I got, if maybe I just want to have a cup-” one of the black tongues dipped out of sight and came back with a brightly polished steel flask, ”-because it gets spitting dull crawling around with ghouls for company, or what. Nope! Always the threats! Is it cause I look like a slagheap? Didn’t get asked, if you want to know. And now you too. Gut it, Shengshi, you’ve drunk with the boss himself, and you know he ain’t better than me in a thing. So what’s up now? What’s happened to ya?”

The snake smacked his lips uncomfortably. “I, uh… Well.” With a huff, he curled up his tail and sat down upon it. “... I apologise. I failed to realise that you, too, are an outcast. Forgive me - I was rash and uncouth. It has been a, a rough week.” He gestured to the floorboards before him. “Have a seat, if you wish… And are able to sit still.”

”Hrah, ‘s good. Gut knows I don’t help my case sometimes.” With a series of dimly nauseous sounds, Vrog hauled himself on board, landing with a squelching crash. He rapidly picked himself up and shuffled closer, crouching in the indicated spot. For once, he only left a few faint traces of filth as he passed, no doubt thanks to his watery arrival.

”So, fore we get down to talks,” he held out a hand, and the flask landed on it as if he had just tossed it up, ”wasn’t spitting about the drink. Helps in scrapping times, I can tell ya.” A hooked finger snapped off the lid, releasing a strong waft of sweet and spirits, and slid the container over to Shengshi’s coils. The snake sighed and took a swig with a cringing expression.

“Where did you get this filth? The Cauldron?”

”All my work,” Vrog rapped his belly with his finger with pride, though it was hard to say if it was sincere. ”Got the idea from a friend. I ain’t much for the flavour, so it’s yours. Reward a slave you hate if it’s not for you either.” Another flask, much less shiny, materialised in his hand, and he took a gargling sip. ”Speaking of which,” he continued, ”I feel you got a scrap-pile to do, so I won’t hold you long. You know whatsaface, K’nell been out for a while now, right?”

The snake sheepishly put the bottle down and pursed his lips. “Yes, he has. Were you a… A friend of his, by chance?”

”You could say that. Not really his his, but…” he made a few gestures which could have been supposed to point at himself and someone absent, if in a rather roundabout way, ”Sort of his his. You know what I mean. I’d been trying to get to sort of him, catch up about some scrap, but you can guess, no luck. I got it you were in with him - real him, so it been the same spit for you too?”

“If by the “same spit”, you are referring to leaving this world to mortal hands, then yes - it has been quite the same spit,” the snake conceded. “What is it to you, though? Has Narzhak sent you to stop me?”

Vrog’s mouths gaped briefly in befuddlement. ”Is a gutted pandemic with you people,” one of them muttered, before they gathered themselves together. ”Not really what I meant, but gut me if I can blame you. Place’s always been a spithole, and’s only been getting worse. Narzhak, though…” A mouth made a poor attempt to whistle with its ragged excuse for lips. ”You’re lucky he doesn’t know. The way he’d already lost his spit when he found out about K’nell was slagged something. He ain’t keen on desertion.”

The noisome being rubbed his fingers together. ”Me, though, I’m not messing with that. You want to go, you go. Been thinking ‘bout that myself. That’s why I’m here, actually.” He snapped a finger up to point at Shengshi. ”So, this thing here, it stays our little secret, you and me. Boss’s not gotta know. Just gotta tell me, though, where K’nell’s gone gutted off to.”

“Your discretion is most appreciated,” the snake replied politely. With a few wrinkles of his nose as he eyed the creature before him up and down, he drummed his finger tips together and hummed pensively. “You speak much of what I, too, believe in, so I reckon we are, deep down, brothers of the same view - that this world is no longer meant for us. However, I must ask - if I were to give you the key to the gates of heaven, what would you do there? I have never met you before, but your…” He once more stared down at the remains of puss and filth riddling the form, as well as scraps of crusted blood and rotting guts between its multitude of teeth. “... Form seems catered to a narrow selection of purposes, most revolving around murder - and I would be doing my beloved brother a very disrespectful dishonour if I let a killer into his peaceful realm.”

”That’s the thing, isn’t it?” A few of Vrog’s mouths struggled to put on a melancholy smile, though their efforts were marred, besides their deformity, by the macabre residue around them. ”Ripping things up, gutting, killing, that’s all I’m made for. Been doing a good bit of it all around, you ain’t wrong. But it’s the same spit as my looks. I’m slagged sure not the one who’s asked for this. I kill ‘cause I’m told to, break things ‘cause I’m told to. Be good to try something different for once, you know? Just, I dunno, go around, taste things, maybe get better at…” he motioned at the clean flask, ”making ‘stead of breaking, yeah? No gutted way to do it here, not with them four eyes always over the shoulder. But another place, that’s another thing. If you’s leaving, you get that, no?”

The snake looked sympathetically upon the abhorrent heap of guts and metal, flicking his tongue at the pungent odour emitted from it. “So you are saying you wish to make an effort to change, is that it?” The snake snorted a giggle, then it evolved into a cackle. He slapped his tail a multitude of times and wheezed for air he didn’t truly need. Eventually, his laughter died down and he wiped a tear or two with a clawed finger. “My… First laugh I have had for a while. Such humouristic irony is difficult to come by these days.”

Vrog splayed his asymmetric hands out with a range of grins over his face. ”Feel that, that’s already something else I can do. Wouldna call it this much as calling the hits myself for a change, but you get the gist. Maybe they’d like me over there much like some people here’d want me to get out.”

The snake smirked. “To think a creature such as you, molded and conditioned to murder and slay, can devote yourself to such deep, foundational reformation - yet I, a holy entity of creation, cannot even change myself along my own moral guidelines. Oh, you… Vrog, was it? You amuse me.”

”Ain’t really that hard if you think of it.” Vrog scratched the back of his head, without moving the arm itself more than an inch. ”Just gotta be smelling something that makes that worth it. Me, I want to get out of this slagyard, so get to it. You… I dunno what them morals got going for them, but it’s gotta be hard finding spit you can’t have straight up if you’re a god. Maybe it’s that.” He poked at his drink with a tongue. ”Listen to that, when’d I start philosophying? Gut me if I know what I put in this stuff.”

“Philosophising, and yes, I would frankly not have expected it from one of your form - although, Narzhak was deceptively wise for his, so I suppose the lesson here is to never judge the scroll by its cover.” The snake shrugged. “But, one question remains - and that is whether you the qualities necessary for me to trust that you wish to turn your life around as you say.” The snake squinted. “How do I know you are not lying?”

The finger scraped the head again. ”Beats me how, less you got a power like that,” Vrog mused, ”I’d not advise poking into my head, or he might know. ‘Sides, I don’t know it matters. K’nell’s got to be gone to a place he knows good. He’s boss there. I get in and start scrapping stuff up, I’ll be first to get the smackdown.”

The snake hissed. “True. Very true. Tendlepog can be paradise to those who treat it well - and purgatory to those who seek to ruin it.” The snake snapped his fingers. “Very well. I will tell you the secret to enter heaven. Swear that you will not harm its residents and the key is yours.”

”Good by me.” The mouths sneered again, and Vrog’s left hand closed a second time in the fist salute. ”I swear it on my head I won’t bring pain to any there.” He relaxed the hand. ”That do it?”

The snake smirked. “Yes, that will suffice.” He gestured for Vrog to lean in. “Now, the key to enter heaven, or Moksha, as it goes by, is to meditate upon it.”

Insofar as it was possible to discern, Vrog looked pensive. ”That’s another one I haven’t tried before. How’s that work?”

The snake tapped his temple. “It should not be too hard. Simply take in its beauty, its energies, and have them fill your mind with its wisdom and peace. Once your mind harmonises with Moksha’s spirit, a copy of your soul shall enter it on your behalf, while your mortal form disintegrates and joins the Pyres.” He then shrugged. “Perhaps your divine origins could even help you along to achieve this outcome faster?”

”Could be. I’d already been one of the first in once. Maybe I’ll even find a better use for this mound of spit than that - as helps somebody, I don’t know - but that’s for me to figure.” A few tongues prodded skywards like curious snakes. ”Full of peace, that’s gonna be a first,” he smirked, ”I owe you one, Sheng. You’ve been a friend. ‘Fore I go, I’ll make sure he” a finger pointed downward, ”remembers you like that, no strings to it. Least I can do for this.”

The snake nodded. “Your visit proved to be everything I had not expected - pleasant, most of all. Thank you for coming, Vrog… And thank you for being a friend in a dark time.” The snake bowed seated. “I pray Moksha will accept you as it accepted my brother, my children… And my better half.”

”I’d better hope it does.” Vrog nodded and rose from his crouch. However, he did not move further. ”You get me thinking, though. If that many of yours are there already and you know the way, why’ve you not gone there too? Not like they ran from you to get in.”

The snake shrugged. “I likely will some day. I just felt it would be appropriate to move my belongings into my realm and seal its gates first,” he said with a wink. “I reckon time in heaven passes much quicker than here, so perhaps we shall all be reunited there within the week?”

”Who knows, maybe we’ll be. Not the first time I’d have weird run-ins in that kinda places. You’re right about closing gates, never know what spitters could get in.” With heavy steps, Vrog shambled back to the edge of the deck. ”Well, got some scrap left to do myself ‘fore I disappear. Hand in my resignation and all. Been good smelling you.” In a cumberous half-vault, he was balancing, rather precariously, on the parapet.

“Farewell, Vrog! May you find your way into Moksha!” The snake gave the mass of sludge and filth a wave and a shake of the head.

Vrog raised a claw in a waving motion, then, in what was either a dive or losing his balance, toppled overboard. There was a loud splash and a string of muffled cursing before the rushing sweeps came again, this time fading more and more until they became one with the sound of the waves.

The snake cast a final glance after his new friend and chuckled to himself. As if divinely ordained, He Bo came out of the shadows once more, making a quick kowtow.

“All is prepared, My Lord.”

“Good. The wait is over, worthy servant. Soon, we will have peace eternal.”

The servant gave an affirmative hum. “Yes, My Lord.” He then rose and disappeared back into the palace. The snake took a deep breath and raised his arms. The centre of the pool began to bubble violently before the familiar arc, which hadn’t opened since the intruder dammed up his realm all those years ago, rose out of the waters, the dew dripping from its top hinting at the mirage of Fengshui Fuyou on the other side.

The snake hesitated. He cast a look behind himself, gazing across his jungle one final time. He would miss it - it and its beasts, its inhabitants - perhaps more than anything. As the ship slowly drifted forward towards the portal, he cast a look towards Moksha, too.

“I should have taken your offer, my friend. I hope it remains open.”

Then Shengshi, Lord of the Thousand Streams and King of the Harvest, left Galbar forever.

---

A thousand miles away in the empty oceans south of Kalgrun, there drifted a lonely stone turtle. Lonely? No, for atop its back lived a buzzing village of Dreamers, hardy and committed to their work day in and out. They had been content knowing that no one would come for them and that their hardworking life on chaotic Galbar would be rewarded with an eternity in Moksha’s glory. Like so, life had continued for decades.

Today, however, would be no day of work. Ill tidings had spread from the palace, the same that had spread three years ago. The emperor had taken ill, and the last child of Hermes and Xiaoli was lying on his deathbed. The crimson shadows of the red silk curtains couldn’t bring colour to the dying man’s face. Surrounded was the bed by as many of his people as his room could hold, with even more waiting in the hallways outside. His cold hand was held closely by his weeping daughter Bei, her shoulders each held warm by the hands of two of her brothers, Tian and De. Next to them sat Yang, painting a sheet of rice paper with the will of his father, and Mei, Ping and Anhe all knelt praying on the opposite side of the bed. Wenbo smiled weakly at all eight of them.

“... And for my youngest daughter, Anhe… Oh, Anhe…”

The woman, now in her later thirties, shuffled a little closer. “Y-yes, father?” she sniffed.

“... You were a beam of light from heaven above to all of us… You should have our jewel box from the mountains of Atokhekwoi.”

Gifts couldn’t make any of them truly happy at this point, but she smiled politely nonetheless. “Yes… Thank you, father. I’m honoured.”

Wenbo laid his head down on his pillow and sighed. “Good. Good… I just hope it’s enough. To think I--” He suddenly coughed violently, keeling upwards in ways he hadn’t moved for days. His children immediately tried to lay him back down and give him some water.

“Don’t strain yourself, father!” Tian cautioned. Wenbo snickered.

“To have children like you all - is that not a piece of Moksha in itself?”

The eight of them teared up even more, as did the rest of the people in the room. A considerably more scarred and bruised general Ming struggled to keep her composure. Somber pops rolled around the hall from saddened cloudlings. The emperor took a deep breath.

“I would say, ‘do not weep’, but not all tears are of evil. The greatest regret of any father is to leave his children behind in a world worse off than the way it was to him. I pulled you all along for this… This ‘adventure’...” He gave a sniff and squeezed Bei’s hand as tightly as he could. “Because of me, all of you were born in this mortal world. Can… Can you ever forgive me?”

The children looked at one another, and Bei gave a sobbing grin. “Father, c’mon. There’s nothing to forgive.” Wenbo pressed his lips together.

“Adventure is, is in our blood, dad,” Tian added with as big a smile as he could muster. “We’ll all be united in Moksha anyway, right?”

“Yes… In Moksha,” mumbled the Dreamer King. “Ai…”

“You’ll see her soon, father,” Yang said soothingly as he tried to not get tears on his paper.

“... Yes… Soon.”

The king breathed his final sigh. The desperate calls of his children and people faded away into nothingness. He was pulled out of his body, floating above the disappearing crowd closing tighter in around his corpse. He soared far above, above Chuanwang, who almost seemed to look up and give him a wink. Wenbo felt the pull upwards accelerate, and in the sky far above, he saw glowing flickers of flame, licking menacingly at the nothingness surrounding them. So, these were the pyres.

However, just as he exited the upper atmosphere, he was once more tugged away - or rather, he felt as though he was being pulled in two different directions. The feeling disappeared, then returned, then disappeared again. Finally, his vision blurred over from an unfathomably bright light, and all sensations went haywire. He felt burning heat and brittle cold simultaneously, and the colourful void that filled his vision blasted his ears bloody with sound all while remaining dreadfully silent. His mind felt pulled and pushed, kneaded like dough by the experience. It went on forever, and it was over instantaneously.

A sweet familiar smell woke him up. He was staring up at a blue, feather-clouded sky, with red grass crowding the edges of his vision. The ground was soft, silken almost, and the wind was gentle to the skin. A number of grunts and crunches caught his ear - as did curious little pops on the wind. A shadow blocked out the light of the sky and Wenbo’s eyes needed time to adjust.

An unseen hand grabbed his and he heard a voice swathed in an accent that he hadn't heard in a lifetime, "Welcome home, brother."

Summary!

A day has passed since Ashalla came over, and Snake’s prepping to bounce on Galbar. Who should arrive in the moment but Fat Vrog (Frog) in all his yucky unglory! He introduces himself and receives a gentle “fuck off” from the snake. However, as time and conversation pass, it becomes clear that Vrog’s just looking for a way off Galbar, too - preferably through this mysterious super dimension he’s heard so much about. Snake says Vrog looks too murdery, but Vrog says he’s a changed lump of guts and tentacles now - wants to go out and away from Narzhak’s influence. The snake sympathises and eventually tells Vrog how to get into heaven, saying that Vrog’s amazing personality and convictions swayed him. Vrog’s thankful and rolls off. Then Snake enters FSFY and is never seen again.

Years later, in the seas between Kalgrun and Istais, Wenbo dies surrounded by family. He is raised up into Moksha, where he is welcomed by a familiar voice. That concludes the story of the Dreamers.

MOIGHT!

Yeah, nothing was spend here.