Bright_Ops — Roleplayer Guild

I have yet to try a Nuzlocke challenge. I don't know which version of the games to do it for. It sounds like fun (Also painful).

There is one pokemon that I do remember rather fondly, if only because of the strangeness that came with it. I was either playing Heart Gold or White 2 and one of the early pokemon I caught was a female Azurill that I named Hinata because her nature was timid. Hinata was a dear but -really- wasn't a good fighter, barely able to survive attacks from other pokemon and didn't really have the strength behind her blows to be a proper glass cannon so she was traded out for other pokemon often. 

Then she evolved into a Marill... a male Marill. I didn't notice the difference at first and it was only when I was looking closing at Hintat's information for some reason (I was looking at the information for all my team at the time) that I was surprised to find that she was now a he (This is something that happens sometimes in games before Generation VI due to a gender coding error when Azurill evolves. There is a 1/3 chance that a female Azurill will evolve into a male Marill. Didn't know it at the time through). 

Hinata's name remained Hinata because it was still early game and I didn't know where the name changer guy was (Honestly it also felt wrong to change Hinata's name at that point). Now, Hinata as a Marill was somewhat better fighter then back when he was a Azurill because he could take a hit or two, but still wasn't anything to write home about. 

Then Hinata evolved into a Azumarill. Suddenly Hinata was the freaking party tank; Just about everything that wasn't lightning or coming from a pokemon that was several levels stronger then him just bounced off and did very little and Hinata finally had some bite behind his attacks to take full advantage of it. 

And through it all, I viewed Hinata as this transgendered little pokemon that started off all shy and afraid... but with love and support grew into an absolutely powerhouse after being confident enough to be who he was, even if it wasn't as the gender he was born with. I was so proud of him... 

In the end Hinata ended up going into the PC because I wanted to train other pokemon and get their pokedex information but he has always been my favorite pokemon ever.

[center]Level: 2
Might: 0
Worshippers: 126

Utter silence. That was the first thing that hit them as they entered the cavern. There wasn’t a scuttling bug, a drip of water, a flap of wings in the darkness, there was nothing. The silence mingled with the oppressive darkness, pressing in on all sides. A feeling of unease flooded through them, a definite sense of they should go back.

The cold struck them next. It was always cold underground, but this fell to degrees far lower than they should have been. Their breath misted in the air, their equipment gained a light layer of frost, and they felt it in the aching of their bones. The energy seemed to be sapped from them, every step along the obsidian black stone becoming more and more of a struggle. Strangely enough, not a hint of frost touched the stone around them.

They stopped when they finally reached their destination. Massive doors, hundreds of feet high, gleaming white in the black stone around them. They were inlaid with the skeletons of every creature in existence. The shells of Hain, the rocky bones of Urtelem, the fragile wings of Angels, the massive bones of the Brush Beasts, they were all there. The eyes of hundreds of skull stared down at them, judging and accusing. Once again a feeling of unease flooded through them. Trespassers. The doors were not meant to be opened.

The dwarves turned and fled, deep into the maze of tunnels that made up the citadel. They told the psykers of what they found, and in turn, the psykers told Lazarus. Soon enough, Lazarus was in place in front of the gates. She looked it over -- almost with disdain. Then, she hit them with a powerful curse of force, slowly creaking them open. From there, she slowly entered, eyes fixed on the black, unfeeling void of a stone that stood before her. That was her prize, and she felt something inside.

She reached out to the stone, plunging her hand into it. And she grabbed hold. It was veritable agony, she wished for nothing more than to let go, but her own knowledge told her that her catch was valuable. Valuable enough to endure. With a flash of divine power, she pulled her quarry out of the stone.

Out of the stone was pulled… an unbeating heart of a creature foreign to the world of Galbar. Cold, hard and lifeless; to the untrained eye it might have seemed like a poor trade for the pain and suffering that one would have to go through in order to obtain it, but there was a… presence about it that suggested otherwise. 

In a moment that seemed to last for an eternity, the heart started to beat. A small thing at first, but with each beat it seemed to grow stronger, echoing around the chamber like the roar of a raising storm. 

The noise clearly had an effect on the stone itself; It seemed to grow darker and darker with each passing second, growing so dark that it seemed to light up the lesser shadows around it by comparison. Without noise, the darkness came alive and reached out for the heart, grasping it and removing it from Lazarus’s hand. Held aloft in mid air, the shadows of Death itself coiled around the still beating heart, cocooning it and making it disappear from sight. With each passing second the ‘cocoon’ of shadows grew bigger and bigger until it was around Lazarus’s own size… until the texture changed. 

The shadows seemed to fade into some kind of dark cloth, the ‘cocoon’ becoming a robe and at the center of it all appeared to be a figure that would have looked right at home in a tomb after settling in after a few weeks. Even the stone itself seemed to return to its normal state of being.

Farxus blinked for the first time in his existence. He looked to the left, then he looked right before finally focusing on Lazarus… before opening his mouth and confusingly asking “Mum?” 

“Yes,” stated Lazarus simply, and matter-of-factly. She was seemingly unfazed by the question, almost prepared for it. Her beady eyes took on a gleam as she looked over the new demigod, judging him up and down. “You’re in the World Mountain,” she responded to him.

Taking a moment to look around at where he was, the confusion seemed to ebb away slowly from his eyes. He could feel… things shift into place, bringing with it some understanding on what he was and what his purpose in existence was going to be. Some things seemed to be missing through, like he was missing pieces to the puzzle that was himself. It was rather… vexing. 

Then he heard the whispers. They weren’t loud by any means and in hindsight they had always been there, but were just so soft that other thoughts had simply drowned them out but they were persistent nonetheless. Straining to listen to them, he blinked in surprise to find that it seemed to be prayers. Granted they weren’t exactly meant for him; They seemed to be the equivalent of a ‘To Whom It May Concern’ letter but it seemed that he was the one that it was concerning…

There was so many different emotions behind them all. Pain, Hope, Anger, Despair just to name a few! He couldn’t even hear the words properly because there were so many talking at once! Reaching up and rubbing his temples  as if it might help, Farxus seemed somewhat unfocused to the world around him.

“I need… something. Something to write on. A book, a scroll… anything!” He cried out, a plan already in the works.

 Lazarus stepped over to Farxus, placing her hand on him. She transferred over rudimentary knowledge of her own arcane writing ability -- curses and charms overlaid atop each other to form words, ever shifting. She then held out a box, the same type as her own. She spoke to him, “Write.”

“Thank you.” Was all he said as he received the box that she was offering, the knowledge that she had granted him already being put to good use as he started to pour what was in his mind into it. 

At first he was forced to take the time to write down the information on each individual personally, each whispered prayer in his mind having a story behind it that was important to understanding how to truly help the one who was asking for it. As time passed he sat down on the bare floor in order to better concentrate.

The process became easier with practice but Farxus quickly figured that the box wouldn’t serve his purposes as it was; In order to be updated he would have to take the time to write down any and all new entries and that was time he could be using for more important things. With care, he began to pour some of his essence into the box, ‘corrupting’ it in order to alter it. 

The ‘box’ seemed to twist and morph into what appeared to be a tome with a plain, black cover with a strap that could be used to close and lock it. It’s contents would need to be read often, but only by its true owner. Words seemed to start writing themselves on the blank pages, each new page dedicated to a single person and information that was vital to understanding their current situation; Who they were, what they had become, why they had become it, information about their past and personality (both past and present) ect. 

The whispers ceased to plague his mind, now going right into his tome for safe keeping and to give him a list to work with as it updated itself constantly. 

Closing the tome for now, Farxus breathed a sigh of relief as he finally looked at the goddess that had helped him take form and offered her a small but surprisingly warm smile, despite how terrifying his appearance might have seemed. “I’m Farxus.” He introduced himself, now that he had a better understanding of who he was.    

“And I am Lazarus,” she responded, paying little attention to his tome. Her face offered little in the way of emotion, partly due to her clockwork nature and partly due to the difficulty of shaping a beak into an expression. Instead, she stood there almost neutrally as dwarves looked on.

More out of curiosity than anything, Farxus tilted his head a little as he looked past the one who helped him form in order to look at the dwarves behind her. He offered them a small, happy little wave. “So… what happens now?” He asked his ‘Mother’; despite the fact that she could have been considered more of a midwife who helped bring him into the world instead of the one who created him, he liked the idea of calling her Mum. Lazarus was honestly the closest thing he had to one after all.

“Explore a bit. Find your way around the citadel. You’ll need to learn how to navigate it. As for me, I’ve other things I need to get to. If you see another person in here like me -- bearing the traits of an avian -- his name is Altair.” came the response.

Farxus nodded his head in understanding; Everyone had their duties after all that needed to be done. Still, as he looked around the chamber that he was in, he couldn't help but frown in thought. More to himself then anything, he muttered aloud "I don't like this place. It's to..." He struggled to find the correct word, shaking his head as he turned back to his tome. Deciding to throw himself into his duty, he opened the cover and started to read the first page... his first charge.

The demi-god Farxus is brought into existence with the assistance of his 'mother' Lazarus. 

His first act is to create the 'Tome of the Forsaken', giving him a more organized method of performing his duties and aiding those who cry out to him, even if they do not know it is him they are crying out to. Lazarus kindly offered Farxus the knowledge of Sesh'Areit in order to help in his creation, which he accepted whole heartedly.  

Lazarus and Farxus part ways due to the fact that both have jobs they need to do.

Cost: 1 Might
Originally one of Lazarus's boxes, Farxus poured enough of his essence into it that it changed form and took on a new function. 

The Tome of the Forsaken is a simple tome with a black cover that seems to be made from a substance unknown to the rest of creation with a lock clasp in order to keep it closed when it is not being read. While it doesn't appear to be a large tome, flipping it open will revel that it seems to contain a near endless number of pages; It constantly updates itself, removing pages when the matter in question is settled and adding more when new cases arise. The contents of each page is written in Sesh'Areit, ensuring that only those with the knowledge of Sesh'Areit can read it.   

On each page of the Tome of the Forsaken is the information about a cursed soul that has been forsaken by the powers that be; While primarily those in the book are undead, anyone who has suffered from some form of cursed existence can end up in the tome (Though it is more likely to happen if the person in question is unable to die naturally). Each page revels the information about who the person used to be, the manner of curse that is laid upon them, what they are like now, where they currently are and if they are still self aware enough for thought what they are praying for. The tome will even offer suggestions on how best to help the individual in question.

Starting Might: 4. 
-3 Might - Level Farxus from level 1 to level 2.
-1 Might - Creation of the Tome of the Forsaken. 

Current Might: 0

@WrongEndoftheRainbow

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The Insane Scholar

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