Frettzo — Roleplayer Guild

Brown, Avatar of Astarte, Goddess of Magic

The air was damp and heavy and smelled of morning dew. There was absolute darkness with the exception of the occasional flash of light from scared bioluminescent animals escaping from the woman. Dressed in a brown dress and with features as clean and beautiful as ever. Her right arm was raised over her head and from the palm of her hand she emitted a bright white light. 

Yet the light only seemed to light up a few feet of her path, no matter how much effort she put into it. Was she walking in the right direction? Would she find another monstrosity born from the Rotting Goddess?

Her light caressed the wide, kilometer tall trees' bark, the edges licking at what seemed to be the start of branches and leaves.

"Ow!" She yelped and stumbled. It took her a moment to regain her balance and when she did, she sighed. "No wonder you're a bit crazy, having spent millions of years at the bottom of the Deepwoods…" She muttered with squinted eyes and pressed on. 

And so she walked for a long time. Had it been hours, days? There was no way to know, for the trees were so tall and so dense that they blocked out the sun. And there was no way to know, for the magical essence in the air messed with her divine senses. She had been trying to reach the heart of the Deepwoods, yet what should have been a simple task was made increasingly difficult by an unknown obstacle. Something that the Avatar of the Goddess of Magic never expected to become such a hindrance. 

Magic.

It was a kind of magic she'd never felt before. So strange and malformed that it actively hid from her. The Heart of the Deepwoods, where Astarte had created the Rock all those years ago, the Holy Site that empowered all these different beings with her Magic, was missing. An area a hundred meters in diameter, missing.

-------------

Brown scrunched up her nose at the sight. In front of her on the ground lay a some kind of dead gigantic bug, its innards spread around its body in a circle, and it was none other than herself who had created this scene. Why? Well, that was easy to answer. Her magic wasn't working.

Her magic wasn't working.

She, the will of the Goddess of Magic made physical, couldn't use her magic.

Her ability to use magic stopped a while ago, she expected it was because she was getting closer to the Heart of this damned place. 

So she had to ask for help.

-------------------

"Found it!" A high-pitched voice rung out from behind a tree ahead of Brown.

"Is this another one of your games, Lish'Burath?" Brown rolled her eyes and walked after the voice. When she passed the tree, everything went dark.

…

Though it was only for a second, as her vision was quick to clear up. The first thing she saw was the Demon who brought her here. An Imp, the lowest of the low. Still, he was able to use Magic where she couldn't and so she had to rely on him to show her the way.

"I swear, I will banish y-"

"Shut up and look to the right, oh divine magic user goddess thing that isn't actually a thing and cannot use magic." Lish'Burath said and pointed to Brown's right. There, against the tree's bark, grew something great. Some kind of moss had been spreading over the tree, and the moss was lavender in colour and emitted warm, incandescent light. Brown reached out to touch the moss, and found its texture to be soft, like silk, and when she tried to pull it or harm it, it became ethereal, as if it wasn't really there and her hand phased right through it.

Lish'Burath started exploring the area and motioned for Brown to follow him. It was comical, seeing the Avatar of Magic follow a weak, two foot tall barely flight-able Imp with blind trust in its abilities.

And that's when they found it. What Brown had been looking for all this time. In the middle of the clearing where the Rock and its shards once were, there was now a bush. Inconspicuous in most aspects but for the fact that out of it grew five seeds. Nuts.

"Nuts? Don't nuts grow out of trees?" Brown asked, to which Lish'Burath shrugged. The Demon carelessly flew over to the bush and pulled one of the nuts off of it.

"No, wait!" Brown gasped and ran towards the Imp. His pact with her was over, he had taken her here, so now he didn't have to follow her orders. He ate the nut, crushing right through its shell with his strong molars.

Nothing happened.

"… Oh." Brown sighed, a wave of relief flowing over her as she stopped in front of the bush, grabbing one of them as well. This one seemed to have a crown of leaves growing out of its top.

"… Ugh…" The groaning began. Lish'Burath put his hand over his stomach and double over, gagging and retching. But no nut nor remain of nut came out. His body had absorbed it immediately, and it showed. 

While he retched and groaned and moaned in pain, his body grew larger. A bright lavender light washed over him, and he began screaming in agony. That was Brown's cue to get out. She went to grab the three other nuts that remained on the bush. As soon as she touched the first one, she was sent back flying into a tree.

Help! Help us! Help! Help! Someone… He just ate another!

Brown was dazed, but she wasn't stupid. She looked at the bush, sight blurry and body giving out, and saw it for the first time. A true Demon. Lish'Burath was no longer a simple Imp. He was now a large, hulking beast with a wingspan any Angel would be jealous of. His eyes were black, soulless pits and his breath turned all but the most resilient of plants to ash.

And he had only eaten two of the nuts.

Look. Look at me.

Brown looked down at the nut in her hand. "Sentient nuts?!" Brown frowned and shook her head.

You must save me. Run. Escape.

"But my Magic-"

Is coming back. The nut's leaf crown twitched, and Brown felt empowered once more.

Now run. The others have been eaten and the Beast will look for me.

------------------

A scream pierced Brown's ears. Not one of fear, but one of rage. The very voice of the Beast broke the Earth apart and threatened to send entire trees crashing down.

"Agh!" Brown nearly tripped on a root and kept running. Using her weakened magic, she was able to enhance her speed to untold levels, but it was still not enough. The Beast was nearly upon her. It swung its clawed hand at her back. She dodged just in time  to see the tree to her left fall. 

I have to grow. Please don't let it get me.

-----------------

"Leave me alone!" Brown shouted at the Beast. It laughed a deep, haunting laugh. Even in the plains right outside the Deepwoods, his mere presence seemed to make the air heavy and unforgiving. 

They circled each other, both waiting for the other to make a move first.

The Beast lunged, claws out and massive maw open.

Brown tensed her jaw and took a deep breath, concentrating all of her energy into her palms. In the blink of an eye, the Beast and Brown made contact. A pillar of light erupted into the sky, and a huge flame burned everything in a mile's radius.

After the light and flames cleared out, the Beast lay in pain on the ground, and brown was on her knees and gasping for air.

"Did I… Beat it?" Brown closed her eyes and looked at her hands, burned to a crisp and shaking violently. She had used nearly all of her vital energy in that strike.

No. Run.

Another laugh was heard. One that sent a shiver down Brown's spine. 

The Beast stood up and stretched a hand toward Brown.

At that moment the one surviving nut, which Brown had dropped onto the ground and shielded during the brief fight from the flames, decided to escape on its own. It used what little power it had over the physical world and dug itself deep down into the earth. Deep enough so that the Beast would never find it.

By the time the Beast reflected all of Brown's magic back at her, the nut was safe below Galbar.

Brown looks for the thing she knows will cheer Astarte up, located in the Deepwoods and a direct result of her earlier escapades in the place.

She finds that the area negates all of her magic, and she's forced to seek help from a demon she summoned through an occult ritual.

After a while, the Demon successfully leads her to the Heart of the Deepwoods, the clearing where the Rock once was. They find five nuts there, nuts that grew over the years and became great magical beings. The Demon had finished his pact with Brown the moment he found the place and was quick to do as he wanted. He ate one nut and became a monster. Then he ate three others and became stronger than her. 

Brown could only save one nut from being devoured and ran for her life, ending up in the plains near the Deepwoods, where she had a brief fight with the Beast, previously known as Lish'Burath, the Demon Imp.

No Might used. The strike Brown used was fueled by her own vital forces.
22 MP, 6 FP remaining

Astarte, Goddess of Magic (Soul Manipulation)
39 MP, 7 FP

&

Vestec
999 MP, 0 FP(????)

“Yes Teknall, we did, but you weren’t in the listening mood last time we talked, so I figured I reiterate just to make sure none of you forgot!” Vestec giggled, then looked at Toun. “I know that brother of mine. But this begs the question; Who are you trying to prove yourself too? And what are you trying to prove?” An apparition stepped free of Vestec and gave a bow.

Astarte tensed her jaw and slightly turned her body when Toun approached. WHen he apologized, though, she had to bite back a sigh. She didn’t turn back to look at him when she responded. “... Alright, I forgive you.”

In a flash the Gods were gone, landing amidst the wilderness of the Venomweald. “That was rather dull.” Vestec said, somewhat cheerily. He tilted his head at Astarte, his colors slowing down. “Astarte dear, what’s wrong? You seem morose. Depressed. What happened?” He began juggling balls of Chaos energy, looking at the Goddess of magic and waiting for her reply.

Astarte avoided his gaze, looking at a small rock not too far from their new location in the Changing Plains.  “I, uh- I’m fine. I was just thinking a few things. It’s really nothing.” She furrowed her brow and put her two feet on the ground. 

‘You’re a terrible liar. We really need to work on that with you.” Vestec admonished, flipping over the Goddess of Magic to look at Astarte as she floated upside down. “Astarte, you can tell me anything. I’m the God of Chaos! It’s my job to cause carnage and disaster! You can’t upset me like the others. What’s wrong?”

Astarte gasped at being flipped over so suddenly. She flailed for a moment as she moved her arms to keep herself decent and then blushed at being called a terrible liar. For some odd reason, she liked being admonished.

“... My friend is gone. Amartia disappeared and he didn’t set my friend free…” She pursed her lips, “He’s probably dead. Just like Vowzra. Just like Reathos. Just like Vulamera…” Astarte sighed, her eyebrows twitching.

Vestec’s head tilted. “Amartia? The mortal I found in Slough’s ruins? How could he have even kept your friend? Why didn’t you break him free or force Amartia to do it? How did he even stop you?” Vestec chuckled. “Astarte, dear, unless your friend is a God, death isn’t a barrier to us!” He spun her around so that she was right side up again, spreading his hands wide. She grunted as she was set down. “You’re a God! The only things that you have to fear or respect are Fate and Amul’shaar! The mortals are whatever you want to make them. Friends, toys, servants, the list goes on. So! First, we’ll find your friend.”

“I-I…” Astarte blushed harder. How had she not thought of that course of action? She was obviously many times more powerful than Amartia. “I had to… Make sure Big wasn’t hurt?” She kicked up a small cloud of dirt and hid her hands behind her back. “I didn’t know where Big was-”

Vestec waved a dismissive hand. “You were worried for your friend. We’ll have to teach Amartia his place in the world, but first things first; Finding your friend. Picture Big, and teleport us to his location. We’ll kill anything in the way, fix him up, then be on our merry way to start enacting proper education on why challenging Divine Right is frowned upon.” He took Astarte’s hand. “Lead the way my dear.”

Astarte gave him a pathetically hopeful look before nodding and closing her eyes. In a split moment, they were in a dark cave filled with the putrid scent of death. A wave of despair washed over Astarte as she opened her eyes and saw three heavily decomposed carcasses. 

They were goblins, and further down the cave was a hulking figure. It was sleeping.

Yet Astarte felt panicked instead of happy and she found herself holding Vestec’s hand tightly and stepping behind him. “Something’s wrong with him.”

Vestec stepped to the side, idy dismissing the corpses. “You’re a God Astarte. You have nothing to fear. If you want to heal him, do so. If you want to stop him from hurting you without hurting him, you can do so easily. This is your trial. Not mine. Exercise your right as a God. Use your power.”

“He’s my friend! I can’t just… I can’t just change him!” Astarte said even as she stepped toward the figure. “I can’t just change him…” She repeated and went quiet. 

One step further and the figure groaned and opened its eyes. They glowed an intense lavender and focused immediately on Vestec. When the figure stood, it nearly hit his head with the rocky ceiling. Its movements were groggy and hostile and after blinking, it started to move toward Vestec, balling up its fists and tensing its jaw. Astarte could only look at it, petrified, terrified by what it, he had become.

“B-Big?” 

The voice was small and fragile, like a small twig that struggled to hold on against a distant tornado. 

Big grunted and walked past, paying no attention at all to the one who once was his entire world.

Vestec looked up at the Ogre. “My, my. Someone’s been experimenting. Amartia, you ambitious little mortal.” He looked over at Astarte. “You can do this Astarte. Big is sick. You have the power to fix him, to heal him. He is your friend. Save him.”

Astarte tried to move, but her legs wouldn’t budge. She was frozen in place. “Big, s-stop playing around!”

Big turned and glared at her. He didn’t show any semblance of recognition. He took a step forward. Astarte fell on her butt. “D-Don’t you remember who I am? Or the Phantasmagoria?” She asked, looking up at him from her helpless position.

“Enough.” Vestec’s voice shook the room, filled with anger. His color had turned into a dark red. This travesty had gone on long enough. He was suddenly between the two of them, looking down at Astarte.  “Stand up. You are a God. Do not let this mortal force you to the ground. Stand your ground. Wield your power. You wish to save Big? Bring back your friend? Do it then. Reach into his mind and see what is wrong. Remove the poison and fix what was broken. If you cannot do this you will be constantly bullied and manipulated and beaten down. Is that what you want? To be nothing more than everyone’s victim?”

Astarte shook like a leaf. She hadn’t even looked at Vestec the whole time he had chastised her, instead focusing on the approaching monster behind him. Still, his words were not lost on her. After a few twitches of her arm, she extended it toward Big. 

A flash of light coated the cold stone walls of the cavern, and in the split second the flash illuminated his face, Astarte could see Big’s big smile and playfully squinted eyes right above Vestec’s left shoulder.

Then the light died down, and the scent of burning flesh wafted up to her nostrils at the same time that Big’s huge body hit the ground.

Astarte was panting and grinning. “D-Did you see his smile? He was just playing!” She chuckled, “He’s just playing!” 

But Big did not move.

“Yeah! He’s playful like that, I don’t think any other God but Jvan has ever met him-” Astarte nodded and looked at Vestec, then back at Big. Her grin slowly faded. “He- He’s not moving, he should be standing up by now.” She sniffed the air, “... Why does it smell like burned meat?”

Vestec reacted immediately to the smell of death. As Big’s corpse hit the ground, Vestec caught his soul before it could be drawn into Reathos’ pillar of souls. 

“Too much power.” Vestec stated simply, cradling the Ogre’s soul, his colors pulsing slowly. “I caught his soul. You must heal him. Return him to life. I cannot do this for you.”

Astarte stared at Big’s corpse for a long while. She didn’t know how to react, but one thing was sure. She was glad that she didn’t have to worry about Big’s location and state any longer. “Uh, just… Give me his soul.” Once Big’s soul was in her hands, Astarte quickly reconstructed Big’s head and returned life to his body. He stood up in a slight panic, and the first thing he experienced was a certain Goddess hugging him tightly and crying into his waist.

“Astarte weird again,” came his rumbling voice, “need hug?”

Astarte just sobbed in reply, rubbing her cheek against him. She didn’t know why she was crying, she’d never felt like this before. Big took this as a yes and put one big hand around her.

It took her a good few minutes to calm down enough to pull away from Big and wipe at her eyes.

“Go, go, you’re no longer tied to me in any way, Big. Make your life out there, meet other ogres.” She gave him a sweet smile and teleported him away, into the Venomweald.

After that, there was an awkward silence between Astarte and Vestec. It was broken by Astarte sniffling.

“You never saw that. None of this ever happened.”

“Of course not my dear. All I saw was a Goddess on the first path to seizing her true power.” Vestec replied cheerfully, his colors back to their normal erratic pattern. “Now. I believe there’s a certain city of a certain mortal that hasn’t felt Divine Wrath yet. I will change this.” He held out a hand, giggling. “Care to come with me, my dear? Amartia needs to learn his place, don’t you think?”

Astarte took Vestec’s hand in hers and bit her lip, “See, could we, uh, keep the smiting down for a moment? I’d like to keep what he did to me a secret for as long as possible- Besides, it’s really fine. It’s thanks to him that I learned something new! … Right?” Astarte smiled nervously. There was something different about her. She seemed taller.

Vestec sighed in disappointment. “Very well...I will not smite them with the wrath of the gods. Your secret is safe with me.” Suddenly, his head snapped up in alarm. For a moment, his colors stilled completely. Then they burst into a frenzy of excitement, going faster than ever before. “He’s here...Logos has returned. I think he’s smashing  apart Jvan’s creations and hunting Jvan down herself.” Vestec giggled. “True war has shown up and now the good gods are gonna have to prove their worth. We’ll have to stop Logos eventually ourselves, obviously, but first we can watch the fun!”

While Vestec giggled, Astarte’s face was riddled with worry. “Yeah… We should certainly watch. Let’s not let them go too far, Vestec. As soon as the others fail, we should act. It’s been ages since we last saw Logos, and he feels much more powerful now.”

Vestec shrugged.  “As you wish. But don’t make me immediately leap to their aid. Chaos that I don’t have to cause myself is always fun to watch.” He waved a disparaging hand. “Power is relative. If everything somehow falls apart, there are enough of us Gods that like living. I can play nice with the others in the name of survival and beating Logos.” Vestec chuckled. “I won’t allow any other God to die, you have my word. But for now…” Vestec took Astarte’s other hand, spinning her in a circle. “I have a favor to ask.” They disappeared, twirling back into existence next to the dead corpse of the Venomweald Writhe. “This poor thing died before I could create a proper race to worship it. I need help restoring it to live.” Vestec looked at Astarte. “Pretty please?”

Astarte raised an eyebrow and looked at Vestec, “I could restore it, I suppose, but what is it?”

“It’s a mistake Slough made long ago, and I want to put it to good use. A race that embodies the values of your Arena idea! They need a God of the Arena though,one separate of my machinations.” Vestec shrugged. “I’m too violent and don’t need it maddened with rage.”

Astarte stared at Vestec blankly for a moment. “The Arena idea…” She put a finger on her lips and closed her eyes tightly, then she perked up and gasped, “Oh, the Arena idea! Vestec, the last time we spoke of that must have been what, millions of years ago? Or maybe a hundred, who knows.” Astarte was quick to shrug and walk over to examine the dead Writhe closer.

She put her hand on one of its many limbs and hummed, “Seems it used to have a soul once. I could probably make a replacement, but it’s not going to be as effective as the original. Are you fine with that?” She asked and turned to Vestec.

“Of course!” Vestec clapped his hands together and giggled. “I don’t want to put the souls in Slough’s little tomb into something not sentient, and I doubt she’ll be willing to recreate the events that lead to this thing’s creation.  So, your creation will make a perfect replacement!”

Astarte pursed her lips. Was it really fine to just bring mortals back to life in such an impulsive manner? The dead Writhe emitted a rather… Intoxicating aura, and not in a good sense.

Still, it was Vestec who asked, so she shouldn’t think too much about it.

She sighed and concentrated. It was… Weird. For the first time in her life, she felt the way her essence and intent weaved together and moved through her body. How they mixed to form the purest, most malleable form of energy in Galbar.

A soul.

Yet it wasn’t a soul worthy of mention. It was rudimentary, with no chance of developing any sort of sentience, yet its energy potential was huge. Bigger than most mortals’, sentient or not. Sadly, the Writhe would not be able to make use of it without sentience.

As the soul formed on her fingertips and slowly seeped into the dead Writhe through its vinelike limbs, Astarte felt something else entirely. A warmth, coming from the deepest reaches of her conscience. She couldn’t put a finger on it, and she found herself speechless when trying to call attention toward it, but she knew… She knew that this warmth was it, what she had been lacking. It was her identity made present.

She was the Goddess of Souls.

After the last of the soul took root in the Writhe, Astarte brought it back to life using some of her energy. Then she took a step back and stumbled. Her knees nearly buckled under her weight and she had to lean heavily against a nearby tree. She hadn’t stumbled out of exhaustion or weakness, though. The warmth in the back of her head had suddenly grown into a flame, and that flame clouded her mind.

She sat down against the rough back of the tree, leaving a trail of burnt bark where her back slid.

Vestec clapped his hands together in delight. “Thank you so much Astarte!” He turned to her in concern as she burned a tree, sensing her increases in power. “Are you okay my dear? That’s an awful lot of power to suddenly be taking on.”

“H-Hah,” Astarte chuckled weakly. The sickly green grass around her slowly turned in a lavender colours, then it began to let off steam. When Astarte noticed this, she reached out to one of the blades and tried to pluck it, only to find it had turned into some kind of magical goop. “.. I’m fine, just give me a minute…”

That was a lie, though, as it took her two minutes and numerous failed and ridiculous attempts to get up on her wobbly legs.

“Now that was important, don’t you think?” Astarte said to Vestec.

Astarte, 39 MP, 7 FP available
1 Might used to create Astarte’s First Soul. It is a rudimentary soul inside of the Resurrected Venomweald Writhe. It has a huge amount of energy in it.
1 Free Point used to resurrect the Venomweald Writhe.
6 Might used to level up from 4 to 5
10 Might used to level up from 5 to 6

22 MP, 6 FP Remaining
Frettzo Member

Summary Lover

Status

Recent Statuses

Bio

Most Recent Posts
