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Where did I play,
A land of twisted branches,
A kingdom of clay,
A swamp of memories,
A never-ending day,

Where did I run,
Across the dawn,
Through the sun,
Across the sky,
Through laughs and fun,

Where did I walk,
Pristine grass green,
White cliffs of chalk,
Pools of sky so blue,
Orchard stones that talk,

Where did I sit,
By the gates of silver,
Near endless pit,
By forever horizon,
You may remember it.

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Maxima Magna Mirificus

The Hero Chronicles

Maxima and Tummi, the River God

A collab between @Timemaster & @Goldeagle1221

Days went by fast in the Goblin Underground. Well, day or night was a hard thing to determine when one lives deep underground with no access to the surface but it was day for Maxima’s people. Not that the GU ever slept. There was always more work to be done, more tablets to be written, more knowledge to be amassed.

If they weren’t mining and expanding their territory to sustain their ever increasing numbers. If they weren’t mining, they were mating, if they weren’t mating, they’d write on the tables. That’s how they spent their time. All of their time. Life was not dull for the GU.

It was a quiet day in the GU and the miners were working on a new corridor where they heard running water or something liquid at least. Water was scarce underground and most of what they drank came from the Cornucopia but that wasn’t sustainable for too long. The numbers would soon outweigh the usage of it. After all, it was never meant to be a permanent solution.

As the miners were breaking into the wall with their tools, an earthquake started and panic quickly spread between the miners. Each ran in a different direction as they saw the wall they were digging into cracking and with a loud “WHOOOFF” it crashed down, inundating the whole corridor with dust.

Soon after, warriors were sent in, just in case there was anything dangerous and they saw it. The river. A big underground cavern with a large river in the middle. Mirth could be seen on the faces of the goblins as they saw it and a few of the warriors dropped their weapons and quickly jumped into the river. Only to feel something in there. A sense of danger. A godly sense and they ran, they ran as fast as their legs allowed down.

A few hours later they returned with Maxima in tow. She was a hero blessed by Galaxor, surely she would’ve been the perfect candidate to communicate with a potential divine. Maxima approached the river cautiously, Rajesh a few steps behind her. With a bow to the river, she said, in the most friendly voice she could:

Greetings O’ Great being! We are the Goblin Underground as decreed by our creator, Galaxor, the God of Heroes. I am Maxima Magna Mirificus, the leader of the Goblin Underground. Please accept my deepest apologies if this river is yours and my warriors defiled it. We’ve captured them and brought them to you to do as you wish but please, spare their lives as they didn’t know what they were doing.

"What's that now?" A small voice piped up. Floating lazily on a ring of woven branches was a small gnomish god. He laid in the center of the floating ring, his small sandled feet poking out from under his beard. He held a drink in one hand and a curled staff in the other. Dark eyes sparkled under bushy brow. "Why, hello there! No worries, come on in!"

Almost immediately, the goblins went on their knees to show reverence to the small divine. Even the four goblins that were over 1.9 metres tall. All the goblins, but Maxima who, as instructed by Tummi, approached him, walking into the water a few steps.

O’ Great One! My warriors are terribly sorry for what they’ve done. Please spare them your wrath. I’ll gladly accept any punishment that you may have for them, but please, understand that rivers such as this are rare underground and our water supplies have run low. They merely sought to cool themselves down and drink their fill. With your permission, I’d like my people to bring some of this water back home. Our children are…suffering from the lack of it. Sure, us adults can survive on fruits alone but the children…” said Maxima before realising what she’s done, she directly asked a divine something, with no fear.

I apologise for my insolence of speaking so bluntly, O’ Great One with long beautiful beard which us goblins cannot grow. ” quickly added Maxima, hoping this smoothed things over and it wouldn’t end in her death.

"Hm." Tuuni tugged at his beard in an almost exaggerated way, a clear blush on his cheeks. "You provide an excellent case." He paused and twirled his beard between his fingers. "Oh I got it! I'll let you have as much water as you'll ever need, in exchange for a promise!"

Maxima was flabbergasted to say the least. She wasn’t killed on the spot and the divine seemed…very calm, chill. Most divines would’ve surely killed her by now…twice.

Of course, O’ Great One. As long as it isn’t something that goes against our Creator, we will be doing anything you may need.

"Oh, good!" Tuuni squirmed to stand up on his floating tube and leapt to shore. He landed right in front of Maxima with a puff of dust and rose up to her shins as he stood. "Please," he continued, "let us speak eye to eye."

Maxima nodded and went on one knee, looking at the divine, right in the eyes…an experience she’ll tell everyone about in the next coming days.

Yes, great one? Also, may your greatness, tell us your name? We wish to write it down in our annals. ” said Maxima. Her plan was simple, if they’d die here, hopefully someone will find a tablet and pass it to Galaxor.

"My name is Tuuni," the gnomish imp of a god answered, "and I have a simple set of promises for us to consider together. Firstly, I will allow you and all else to drink and be happy by my river so long as you allow any and all to do the same, no matter the creature or person. Second, I would hope to see that no debris or destruction or taint comes to see this water, keep the land from desecration. Lastly, perhaps, maybe…" He gave her a blushing twinkle. "Maybe you guys could make a little statue of me here, a small one. Cup my hands so that you can put water in them, and I'll bless the statue as holy — so anyone may fill the palms with water and speak their prayer unto me." He seemed giddy at the idea.

As Tunni introduced himself and told Maxima what was required, she quickly turned to Rajesh to make sure he was writing everything down. Just to make sure that nothing is missed out from the deal.

I can promise you, in the name of the GU, that none shall be persecuted at this spot. All shall drink their fill if so they wish. As for the second part, I’ll make sure to place guards around this cavern. No one shall taint this river with their foulness. As for the statue…That will definitely not be a problem. My crafters will have it created shortly. Rajesh, my advisor, has already sketched a liking of you for our library. It’ll be hard to match your greatness but we will do our best. ” replied Maxima.

The Cornucopia was brought over and food made for the divine and goblins while the crafting was done and in less than 2 hours, it was there. A statue made out of copper and a shiny crystal for eyes was brought from the GU.

There. Great One Tunni. Our best crafters worked on it and this is the result.

Tuuni folded his arms behind his back and gave the statue a walk around. A smile grew behind his beard and with a happy squint, he looked up at Maxima. “Keep this place sacred and your promises clear, and this river will never dry. Should you need me once again, just pray at my likeness.” He gave Maxina a friendly pat on the back, which equated to more of a tap on the knee.

As long as I live, our promise will be kept and I’ll do my best to teach the new leader to keep the promise too. But, one more thing, great one, if I may. A request. If it is within your power or you wish to help, is there a chance you could make our great artefact, Cornucopia capable of making water too? This way we will be able to spread water everywhere in the underground, rivers galore. Our Creator blessed it with the power to create food but water…” said Maxima, knowing full well what she asked and who she asked. It would be a favour from a divine being, a dangerous thing.

“Hm…” Tuuni once again fell into thought. He paced around Maxima, as if pondering the request with great sincerity. “It seems almost redundant to do such a thing, when there is such a wonderful spring of water here at this river… so instead, I’ll bless it with the flow of another drink, one which fulfils the ideals of your cornucopia to a higher degree. As if reaching out of nowhere, Tuuni lifted the drink he was sipping earlier. “I shall bless the Cornucopia to create this very drink which I sip, it is high in vitamins and calcium as well as proteins. It’s not milk, but it is indeed something which I call Ralk.”

Ralk. It must be a truly divine drink if you’re offering it, are you sure we are worthy of such a treat? If so, that would work too. Our younglings require everything they can get to grow up strong and it will solve one issue with only water to drink, diversity. So, if you wish to, please do so and I’ll make sure all that we meet, shall know of RALK!” said Maxima as she bowed her head low, very low.

“Yes, I think so,” Tuuni answered simply. “Just remember fairness and generosity, for that is the way of the flow.” With little else, he tipped his drink, a stark white liquid spilling out over the cornucopia. “And with that, new friends, I must be off.” He backed up to the river and gave the GU a big grin. “Content?”

The Cornucopia shook as the powers of two divines combined to make something new. Another hole appeared on it, one that will allow Ralk to come out and the other would keep its original purpose.

Yes, great one. We thank you greatly. Please visit the GU any time you want and if you haven’t met our Creator, you should. I’m sure he’ll be pleased to meet you. ” replied Maxima as she sent the Cornucopia back to the GU.

“Oh I’m sure I will, I’m a little bit of everywhere.” Tuuni winked before sinking into the flowing water.

Temetalmat, son of Temet

By Hermes and her lover, that is where the people of the Silver Lands live. The land is known as such for its silver mists that often befall its lowlands, threading a glimmer through the endless meadows of daffotales and punctuating the creeks and brooks that veined the land and gave it life. In the distance, the great falls of Hermes and Xiaoli provided a constant thrumming of noise, their loving embrace casually creating smaller falls as they collided. But it was not in these lowlands that Temetalmat, son of Temet, found himself, but a land unlike these.
Temetalmat stood facing north. He stood tall, or as tall as a goblin could. His body was tight with muscle and fingers cut with the lacerations of fish spines. His eyes were tired, yet still young, and his lips were curled into an ever frown. Under his sandalled feet was a plush green grass, draped in a golden sunlight uncommon in the lower lands where he was born and up ahead the slope of whatever hill he found himself on simply droned upward and upward until it stopped as a thin green line against the blue sky. It was ethereal, as if he stood a mile from the edge of the world, or perhaps the gateway to another paradise. His fingers clenched and he turned away, turned to face the lowlands. What good was a wish, what good was a man who couldn’t turn it into reality.

The village of the silver people was as bustling as it always was, with nary a passerby bothering to look up from their work as Temetalmat made his way through the cloister of hide tents. People were tending to fires, smoking fish on various sticks and prodders, and weaving clothes of reeds and stone smashed fibers. Tememat himself was known as the best fisherman in the village, a fact that was clear as day when one walked into his tent. Inside, he was surrounded by nets of various sizes and bone hooks lined the fabric. His bed was nothing more than a pile of furs and just as he was leaning over them to find his misplaced filet knife, a short man wafted through the flaps of the tent.
“Te-me-tal-mat,” the man chided as he found himself front and center. He was a rotund man, with a crown of bone and a smile that split from ear to ear. Temetalmat stood up to turn to him and grunted.
“Leader Pogatolgit,” Pogatolgit recalled.
Temetalmat was facing the man shoulder to shoulder now. “What do you want?”
“Alma is being rather shy, you know?”
A breeze ruffled through the tent, and Temetalmat narrowed his eyes. “I don’t wish to hear of this.”
“Well, perhaps we can talk about Yumi, instead?”
“What of her?”
“Alma is getting old,” Pogatolgit replied, “I was thinking maybe I…”
Temetalmat took a step forward, grabbing Pogatolgit by the throat and lifting him ever so much off his feet. The smaller man squirmed, grunting and ripping his hands against Temetalmat’s, but his soft fingers couldn’t budge the rock that were the fishermans. Pogatolgit spit up his breath. “What… what are you doing!?”
“What is a man who can’t make a wish a reality?” Temetalmat said between clenched teeth. Pogatolgit’s eyes widened, but not out of understanding, but out of pure instinctual fear. His chest was trying to heave, but all it could was compress and compress until Temetalmat’s fingers felt a pop and a crack, and then he shook the dead leader like a doll. Temetalmat felt little, his tired eyes staring at the dead man in his hands. He didn’t feel like he killed a man, but rather stepped on a bug that bit him. It felt fine, but it didn’t feel done.
Temetalmat let out a roar and threw the body through the flaps of the tent, the body landing with a great thud. The sounds of the village stopped as he exited, all eyes suddenly on him and his kill. Eyes were wide, but no one cried. Everyone felt Temetalmat’s presence, and everyone felt the same as him, he knew that to be true, he also knew they just weren’t brave enough to be the ones who did it. The fisherman had become the fisher of men.
“No longer will there be a single leader,” Temetalmat roared at his crowd. “From this day forward, you all will seize reality as I have.” He looked towards the largest tent, where his mother’s eyes peered out from the flaps of Pogatolgit’s tent, along with the eyes of others. Temetalmat curled a fang. “And I know our first decision as a village, to declare freedom for all.”


The vast breadth of the World River was immeasurable and indomitable. If one were to stand on the southern bank, you'd never see the northern, and if you stood on the northern, well you wouldn't see the south. Some settlements and some peoples never knew there even was another side to the river, and that was not to speak of how long it was... until the beavers came.
They had done the impossible and erected a hard wooden dam that spanned the width of the river, trapping its eastern flow and every time the river rose to match it, the beavers built it taller, even going so far as to block off any diversions the river could take with seemingly endless wood. This went on and on until finally, the small god known as Tuuni took notice and decided to visit the beaver people.
Their leader was something of an obvious individual, with a hat of reeds that were tall and painted with river stones. He stood on a wooden platform as the beavers turmoiled below, arms crossed over a vest woven of the same plants as his hat. He was known as Fohr-Mahn of the Dee-Pi-Dubyew peoples and he reined supreme. He chattered his teeth in triumph as he watched his people, he will be known forever as the man who conquered all the water. All of it.
Cracking a grin, Fohr-Mahn squatted, hands folding over one another as he watched his plans be executed. All was going just as he expected, save for the small bearded thing staring at him. Wait what?
"I am Tuuni, and I speak for the streams!" The tiny gnomish thing said from behind bushy brow, head and chin. Fohr slowly stood up and puffed out his chest. "I am Fohr-Mahn! Ruler of the waters!"
"Oh!" Tuuni seemed to pause for a moment. "Well I offer an accord, ruler of the waters, should you continue to stop my streams, I will stop yours."
Fohr-Man squiggled a brow, clearly confused. "Begone!"
And he was begone.

The day after tomorrow (not a bad movie)

Fohr-Mahn stood standing over his once toiling crew, his face a strained red. In fact, everyone who looked u pat him looking up with the same strained face. No one wanted to be the first to say it, no one wanted to even admit it, but there might be more than one stream not moving anymore. A quiet rushed across the scene, everyone waiting for Fohr-Mahn to solve the problem with a quick speech, because blowing on it didn't seem to help as much as the tribe doctor said it would. Fohr-Mahn finally opened his toothy mouth and everyone leaned forward.
Quietly, infinitely so, Fohr-Mahn said, "I can't pee."
"Oh no!?" Tuuni popped up behind the beaver man.
Fohr-Mahn burst into tears and fell to his knees, his stomach full and bladder fuller. He slammed a fist into the wooden platform. "You win, little Tuuni, you win... but hear this... the Beaver People of Dee-Pi-Dubyew will never stop until we conquer a river. If not this one, then another!"
"Then, go catch this one!" Tuuni waved his staff and lo! A river broke off from the world river and cut into the desert beyond the riparian. And so, the Beaver men went to go do just that, only to find that the wandering river never quite stopped and always seemed to juke them whenever they finally set up to block off its head.

"Seems kinda hammed," The King of the Daffotales criticized. The scene was a sunny one by a babbling brook. The mighty king of the Daffotales only divisible from his kin by a tiny paper crown. He was surrounded by a swath of little flowers, one of which was dancing the dance equivalent of a frown.
"It was my first time telling a story," She defended.

Tuuni Time

Get ready for wet!

The world of Galbar had one central area of life, where the khodex laid and a great tree grew over it amid an ocean of primordial water. Already, civilization had graced this pocket of life, even culinary delight had reared its curious head. However, as Tuuni observed the ways and wants of the world below, he couldn't help but feel the tug of inequality coming from the back of Galbar, wehre an arid wasteland stretched forever.
With resolve, Tuuni journeyed through the desert, to the exact opposite side of the world. There he planted his feet in the ground for the first time and gave a wide grin.
"Well, how do you like that?" He said to no one in particular. A dry wind answered him, the only companion along the beige sea of dust. Even as a god he could feel the peeling heat on the top of his hairy head and looking down to where his long beard brushed the ground, he couldn't help but find distaste as he noticed the droplets of moisture that hid inside evaporate before his eyes. Slowly, very slowly, a frown curled downward on his old face and for the first time in his brief life, he wasn't exactly too happy about this. He bit gnawed on his knuckle, though no one was to blame, really.
"Very well," he resolved and looked up to the sky. He squinted and pointed a finger, thumb cocked and ready. "Bang! Pap! Pow! Pow! Bizat! Boom! Ralk!" He fired off little shots of divine power at the sky and as they collided with the atmosphere, something unexpected happened. The bolts cut through the fabric of reality, leaving large buzzing wounds in the sky and before the eye could see beyond the rend, large whiskered dragon heads erupted forward. The two closest wounds and thus closest dragons came out twirling together as if in love. Their eyes river pebbles, their tongues of lilies, and their water sparkling. As torrents of water they collided and rebounded until they slammed into the dry ground below, leaving dancing water falls in their wake that collided at random points, generating smaller temporary falls. From where they landed, rivulets and streams burst across the landscape, eager to find purchase.
"You shall be the falls named..." Tuuni tugged his beard. "Hermes and Xiaoli, the river lovers."
Another pair of dragons emerged from twin wounds. These ones were stoic but close as if old friends. They were strong currents and when they landed, great and strong brooks and streams ploughed through the land, colliding with the waters of the lovers. "You shall be," Tuuni started, "the falls of Shangshi and K'nell, the brothers."
Two more dragons emerged, one small and wily, twisting through the air. With every twist it made, a larger dragon covered it from the sun, as if protecting it in a cloak of care. This strange dance made it so when they hit the ground, the waterfalls they left in their place fell at an angle that disrespected gravity, as if defiant incarnate. Tuuni chuckled. "What better a name than Apostate and his ward, Lorelei." Their waters like the others combined and thus, a great river started to form, cutting west and cutting east, but before it finished a final dragon came blazing from the final wound in the sky. It was larger than all the others combined, and caught the sun in such a way it seemed a jewel. When it hit the ground, it did not land on the arid dust, but chose the pooling water and the baby river and such when it landed, a great and mighty force sent the river both and west, splitting the world into a north and a south.
Before Tuuni could even name this one, he was forced to run after the errant ends, a big smile on his face as he used his godly power to shape its path and to avoid crushing any emerging life with the twisting torrent. Even as he approached the mountains that lipped the oasis of life he quickly summoned a statue of a dragon an either side to split the rivers in twain so that they may curl around the oasis without harm and empty into it in such a way that it did not blast through the mountains proper.
"That one was a lot of work," Tuuni said to himself as he watched the blue take over the arid. "I'll name it Benea, because that sounds like the name of a piece of work."

Silence, well silence except for the rushing water. Tuuni sat on the water between all his falls, their endless torrent of blue ever falling from the wounds of the sky. He didn't notice it before, but Benea had hit the ground so hard that there were now bits of land floating between the falls, connected by similarly floating rivers, creating a web of water and land amid the very sky. Tuuni nodded to himself and looked down at the riparian floor, now drenched. There was water, but not much else. Yet. He clicked his foot against the ground and up sprouted small dancing daffodils. Their pedals flapped as if to talk and all at once, they started to tell the story of this creation, all but one. This small flower seemed to regard Tuuni before asking, "Hey, won't all this water eventually fill up the basin?"
Tuuni looked down at the flower and thought to himself. "No."
"Why, or rather, why not?"
Tuuni waved a sage hand. "Go spread your seeds along the banks of the world river, so that your kind may sprout along it and bring word the denizens of Galbar of a new paradise that shall be known as Shangshi La!"
"Wait, that didn't answer my question at all..."
Tuuni put his hands on his hips and sucked in a relieved breath, taking in the wild sights. "Gorgeous."
The Daffotale sighed. "Seems a bit hammed, but whatever."

Of course!
Semi-necro but I'm finally at the point where I want to cap off the story of the 8th crucible. If you have anything specific you want to have happened to your god, let me know as I put together the final post which will determine the winner, the triggering event and a short epilogue.

The void was empty, which made sense since it as a void. Actually, there wasn't even a void, as that would imply that there could be something more. In reality, there was nothing. Actually, that wasn't quite true either, since there was a scroll and various gods and even a bruhaha with a cow. So in truth, this place was empty except for a few things, which would qualify as not empty.
Tuuni, a small imp of a god with long flowing hair and bushy eyebrows that all but covered his visage knitted his brow. In his hands he held a paddle and under his sandaled feet (hidden by his beard) he floated on a square of wood. He was slowly pushing himself towards the center of this nothing-but-something, where the scroll was asking for the arrival of others like him. Granted, he figured he was too late to write anything in the vessel, which was a shame but he also really wanted to arrive in a thematic way that unfortunately was slower than using his godly abilities to just be there. A small price to pay, besides, Tuuni figured, it was best to leave the heavy writing of the very cosmos to the larger gods and to create as little of a splash as possible, especially so early in the birth of this something. He was content to wait and see.
He craned his neck as he thought, okay yes, there were things he wanted to do and things he wished he had written, but his excuses were enough to satisfy him for now. With a flourish he planted his paddle into nothing and stopped, high above the meandering gods, small black eyes peeking out from under his bushy brows to watch them. So begins the story of Tuuni and his new friends.

Panic Attack
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