Goldeagle1221

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

FP: 0 MP: 04

“Ever kill a troll before?”

The voice was sandy with a highly inflected accent, giving it a suave and regal tone. It had come from a man dressed in plates of steel, the surfaces painted with charcoal to keep it from rusting. A sword hung from his hip and a heater shield was slung over his back. His face sported a jet black mustache over well tanned skin, the top of his head covered in loose curls.

“A Gjornenahabblestrjikn or two,” a much younger man answered. He wore the same outfit, yet his voice was very different, deep but youthful and energetic. His skin was a moon pool white, two blue eyes set in his face, his own black hair loose around his shoulders.

The pair of men stood, leaning over the railway of a small galley, the wash of the sea’s waves pushing up against the sides of the boat. Salty air whipped their hair behind them and billowed in the wide linen pants of the sailors that pushed the ship onward with long paddles. The brine coated their faces as equally as the two armored men’s suits.

“Yeah?” The accented one goaded, “I said ‘troll’ not Gjornenahabblestrjikn.”

“What’s the difference,” The blue eyed one didn’t bother to look up from the horizon.

“Not much,” The accented one picked at a loose fabric in the palm of one of his gloves, “but enough.”

“It’ll die,” Blue eyes nodded, “we’ll come back, there will be a party, I’ll dance with Swedren and you’ll polish your sword.”

He turned onto his shoulder so as to face the accented warrior, “just as always.”

The accented one raised a brow, “I don’t know about that… those Garthilian women, they can’t resist an accent.”

“It isn’t how you say, it’s what you say, and you’re better off a voiceless,” Blue eyes looked back over the horizon, “oh. You know what?”

“What?” The accented one turned from the horizon.

“Maybe you could ask the troll to the dance, as they frogs say, two birds one stone,” A small smile curved on the young soldier’s face.

“Oh yeah!” The accented one smacked the back of blue eye’s head, his voice mocking “as the frogs say, shut up and keep your tongue.”

Blue eyes gave a small snicker, “whatever helps you sleep at night.”

“Sirs!” A sailor pointed ahead, “right there.”

Following the finger of the sailor, the two warriors could see a small atoll breaking from the mist of the sea, it’s dark rocky shores uninviting, gnashing like teeth as the waves rose and fell around it. Though small, a mighty hill rose from the atoll, dark and craggy with very little vegetation at all, save a few green patches with speckles of white.

“Sheep,” The Accented one noticed them.

“Sheep… sheep, isn’t that more of a giants thing?” Blue eyes turned to the accented one who simply rolled his eyes.

“Lots of jokes today, huh, Renevin?” the Accented one accused.

“They say, they say,” The blue eye’d Renevin nodded, “but Hondros, how can I possibly not be in a good mood after yesterday?”

The galley shook as it hit a sandbar, planks creaking, “no idea,” Hondros grunted, “up and over.”

With that the two vaulted over the side of the galley, their boots splashing into the chilly waters. The water rose to their stomachs as they waded the rest of the way. It was a slow trudge, and more than once they worried about being spotted, as if the troll leap from its hill and chase them down into the sea. The warriors remained quiet regardless, their lips pursed as they forced their way onto the dark rocks of the shore.

“If it wasn’t for the midday breeze and sun,” Renevin remarked, “I’d really hate this.”

“Could be warmer,” Hondros complained as he took the lead, his blade ringing out of its sheath. The length of the blade was covered in old runes and engravings, giving it a fearsome look, Renevin’s own blade seemed to match the style, but held different runes.

Before the two men was a long winding path, or at least it could be called path-like. The stones of the hill gave way where it had experienced the most trodding, coupled with a distinct lack of what sparse vegetation there was and rusted stains of victims past. With all these factors tied together, the pair had a good idea of what its purpose was.

Hondros and Renevin began their trek up the hillside, the rocks clambering underfoot, and the sea breeze biting into their soaked britches and padding. Sheep bayed in the distance and some gulls hawked nearby, but other than that the atoll held a certain silence that caused a shiver to run up the warriors’ spine, their fists white under their gauntlets as they held their blades. Hondros slid his shield onto his arm, Renevin following suit, as the ground began to level, the path now curving inwards towards the side of a rocky cliff-face.

As they began to turn the curve, the two noticed a dark impression in the face: a great gaping cave. Immediately the two shuffled to the cliff-face, their armored backs pressing against the rocky wall in fear of someone or something staring out from the cave. Hondros looked back at Renevin, who gave a curt nod. Slowly the two strafed the rock wall, edging their way closer and closer, until they were so close that Hondros could feel the cold earthy air exiting the cave on his face. Hondros gently extended his right arm, his shield tapping Renevin’s breastplate. Renevin nodded and the two sucked in a large breath before suddenly exploding into the entrance of the cave, their eyes quickly expanding as the darkness grew around them.

It was only a second, but a terrifying one, as their eyes adjusted. Too slow did their vision return to them, and as far as the pair was concerned, they wished it hadn’t. Before them was cruel paintings penned on the wall of the cavern. They could only imagine it was penned with a thick gnarled finger dipped in fresh blood. The entire cave stunk of rot and piss, making Hondros wonder by what magic he didn’t smell it sooner, and causing Renevin to stifle a gag.

In the center of the cavernous atrium was a crude, and most likely stolen, cast iron cauldron, limbs sticking out of its bubbling brew. Past it the cave continued into darkness, the gloomy stones not helping their eyes discern the depth. The pair gripped their weapons anxiously, and thoughts of the troll having followed them, playing them for fools entered their minds as they circled each other, making sure to keep each others backs accounted for when suddenly there was a muffle.

The warriors skidded on their heels as they turned to the sound. A lump moved in the shadows -- much too small to be a troll. Renevin bumped his shoulder off of Hondros and the pair moved forward as one, shields up front and center. The figure shivered and backed up against the cavern wall as the two approached, causing them to slow down.

Renevin squinted, the figure of a ragged and beaten woman entering his vision. Her hands were tied together in a rope made out of ligaments whose origin he didn’t want to think about, but more pressing was her leg. He noticed a large dry stain of blood on her calves as well as a festering near the sides of her knees.

“Must be one of the women from Urryl,” Hondros all but whispered.

“Hamstrung,” Renevin croaked past the smell of the cavern. The warrior knelt down, lowering his weapon, the woman whimpered and he placed his sword on the ground, showing a peaceful palm. Hondros’ gut clenched and he kept his shield and sword ready, standing behind his crouched companion.

“Urryl?” Renevin coaxed as comfortingly as possible, inciting a rapid nod from the woman.

“We are the Praxian Storm Guard,” Renevin gave a small smile, “we’ll get you out of here-”

A metallic slam echoed throughout the cavern as a massive knotted club slammed into Hondros, sending the warrior across the floor, his armor grinding against the stone as he skidded. Renevin slapped his hand onto the handle of his sword and spun to meet his foe, sword and shield ready.

There before him was a hulking beast of blotted skin, rope like muscle, and yellow stained eyes. It stood nearly twice his height and hefted a gnarled club stained a rusty red. Crude cutting tools were tied around its naked waist, and without missing a moment, the troll attacked.

Renevin ducked under the swinging club and brought his sword to bear, but before he could connect, one of the troll’s beefy arms slapped him back. The warrior managed to maintain his footing, his reactions just barely kicking in as he leapt out of the way from another swing of the heavy club. This time the soldier had enough space to quickly cleave his blade into the arm of the troll, the sword sinking deep into the fatty flesh, down to the white of the bone.

The troll howled and backhanded Renevin, the blade still stuck in its arm. The soldier was sent flying backwards, the impact lifting him off his feet. He slammed into the ground, his back cracking from the impact and his shield arm smacking into the wall with a loud clang. From pain squinted eyes he saw a shadow move behind the troll, and suddenly the flash of Hondros’ blade caught his attention.

Caught unaware, the troll never saw Hondros get back up, his blade cutting deep across the back of the trolls knees. Dark blood oozed out from the hamstring and the troll hollered in pain. Renevin jumped to his feet, ignoring the shocking pain throughout his body, and before the troll could react, Renevin expertly lunged his sword under the arm of the troll, the muscle snagging his blade as it slipped through the armpit and ribs, and right into the heart.

The troll roared, but it quickly turned to a gurgle as Hondros sunk his own blade into the back of the troll, piercing a lung. Renevin ripped his sword free and then slammed its point into the troll’s throat, forcing a gush of scarlet from the meaty beast and bringing it to the floor.

Renevin’s blade slipped out as the troll came crashing down, and for a moment or two it simply convulsed on the ground before turning stiff and still in a pool of its own. Hondros let out a long breathe and immediately glared at Renevin, “the ARM!?”

“Out of every part of this fat thing and you go for the arm?”

“It was in my wa-” Renevin shook his head, “-the girl!” Hondros snapped to and the pair rushed to the huddled over woman.

In the gloom of the cavern they saw her shivering form, a sense of relief washing over them. Renevin’s blade rasped as he shoved it back into its scabbard and slung his shield over his back. Kneeling down towards the woman he spoke softly, “we are going to take you away from here, bring you back home.”

Her chin wobbled, and the pair couldn't tell if it was a nod or from her silent sobbing. Renevin furrowed his brow and slide his arms under the ragged woman, dried ooze scraping against the metal that covered his arms. She was much lighter than he expected, but that was hardly a comfort as he hefted himself upright, his new ward safely in his arms. The trio made their slow retreat from the cave, Hondros taking a brief second to look back at the scene, the cauldron still bubbling. His nose scrunched and with little word the group exited the killing grounds.

Immediately the group was met with fresh sea air, their lungs expanding greedily and expelling the gruesome stink of the cave. The midday sun stung their eyes briefly as they readjusted to the outside world, Renevin’s gaze stuck on the woman in his arms. She was scrawny, the bumps of her neck and collar pressing against her bloodied skin. Her dress was in tatters and stuck to her in crispy wafers, and despite being free from the cave, Renevin couldn’t help but smell the bubbling cauldron in her web-like hair. Despite all this, her eyes were alert and open, her breathing quick.

Renevin looked up at Hondros who gave him a worried look, but without a word the two carried on, making their way back down the hill as swiftly and safely as they could. The sheep paid them no mind as they skidded across, no new threats emerged, and yet the soldiers couldn’t help but feel a well of anxiety grip their throats.

Her breathing seemed to slow as they approached the waters, and the pair’s pace quickened. The water bit into their legs once more, and her eyes closed. The waves lapped at their waists and they pushed as fast as they could. Renevin held the woman as high above his chest, suffering the consequence of getting a noseful of the stench, his own eyes closing as to avoid her bristled hair, only to open at the sound of the galley creaking against the waves.

Hondros grabbed the railing of the boat and with a few helpful tugs from the sailors, lifted himself over the side and onto the deck with a wet slam. Turning he offered his hands down to Renevin, “give her to me.”

Renevin looked up with a sad look, “She’s gone.”

Hondros narrowed his eyes, “what?”

“How? How do you know?” Hondros furrowed his brow, “hand her up.”

Renevin shifted her in his arms, bringing his gauntlet to his face and biting the leather finger, tugging it off his hand. Taking his now bare finger he pressed it into her stretched, limp neck. He sucked in a salty breath and waited, only for a darkness to take over his eyes. Shaking his head up at Hondros. The older soldier pursed his lips.

“Let her go.”

Renevin looked up at the soldier quizzically who answered, “she’s been enslaved in that cave for her final moments, she deserves freedom in death.”

Renevin peered down at the dead woman in his arms, expelling a sad breath. Gingerly the soldier lowered the body in the water, the weak form floating on the waves. Her hair expanded around her like a halo and Renevin looked up at Hondros, he opened his mouth to speak but said nothing before closing it again. The older soldier nodded in understanding. Gently Renevin pushed he body away from the boat, the new sea angel slowly making her way to a watery freedom. Without much else, the younger soldier heaved himself over the rail, landing on the deck of the galley.

He turned to Hondros who in turn turned to the sailors, “headway to Ylldyn.”

---

K’nell sighed as he peered into a strange translucent orb. With little fuss, the God of Dreams placed the item on a pedestal next to his throne, and leaned back into his seat.

“Interesting.”

Summary

Hondros and Renevin make their way to an atoll known to be the lair of a troll that has been terrorizing the fishing villages in the area.

The pair manage to find the liar, only to be surprised in finding a survivor.

The warriors slay the troll and rescue the girl, only for her to die later.
They set sail for home, their quests long from being done.

THEN

It turns out the entire kerfuffle is the result of a dream trapped in a viewing orb.

Might

1 MP spent and then discounted to 0 on the Orb of a Particular Dream

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

As Li’Kallas eyes slowly opened, she found herself laying on her side, a granite bench underneath. The rock was tepid from her nap that she didn’t even know she had begun, but otherwise not the most comfortable bed.

All around her was a dewey garden, fitted with dark green shrubs, well trimmed trees with gnarled roots and flowers that had yet to bloom. Strange birds tittered and the sky was a dark purple dusk. Cutting through the strange garden was a cobblestone walkway, wide enough for two but not much else, its destination hidden behind bends and rows of trees.

Dusk, huh... Li’Kalla thought as she shook her head and rubbed the sleep away from her eyes. She groggily sat up and yawned and stretched, letting out a high-pitched grunt of relief. I better get going… I don’t want to be late, right?

Right?

Li’Kalla sighed and slouched over a little. The moment of weakness didn’t last long, however, as she was quick to straighten up and stand. Without hesitation, or a spare thought toward her own feelings, she set down the cobblestone walkway.

Her attire was a simple yet luxuriously tailored white dress, designed with minimal frills and accents as per her Father’s request. It didn’t seem odd to her at the time that her feet were bare, and that her skin seemed a little bit paler than usual. In fact, being in the Garden reinvigorated her, and being near the young flowers gave her heart a feeling akin to a warm embrace.

And yet, she didn’t want to be late, so she walked on, eventually leaving the small, secluded area of the Garden behind, ladybugs and butterflies and caterpillars grieving silently as she left them to their own devices.

“Hinan,” a great voice rumbled. A large bullman suddenly walked beside her, only one of his hooved feet able to fit in the path, the other carefully stepping between shrubs and flowers. His face that of a bovine and was old and grizzled. Underneath was a large muscular body, now worn with age and wrapped in furs. Strapped to the great minotaur’s back was a book as easily as tall as Li’Kalla and perhaps twice as wide. He walked slowly, his guttural voice vibrating from his throat.

“How are you this evening, Hinan?”

Li’Kalla’s eyes shifted to the Great Bullman beside her and after flashing a look of anxiety for a split moment, they showed an absolute calm. ”Uncle, how great it is to see you, I see you’ve added to your collection of furs,” Li’Kalla asked with a warm smile while her heart threatened to pound so intensely that it could jump straight out of her chest. She couldn’t let anyone know how she truly felt, that was true. But her Uncle? Maybe he… Just maybe…

What could be described as a hearty yet soft laugh echoed from the bullman, “Oh, while flattered, I am not your uncle.”

The minotaur looked over at the woman with his elderly eyes, “I am Freg Gerntef, Hinan. I hope I do not disturb your walk, but I think we are going to the same place and simply wished for some company.”

Li’Kalla’s eyes glazed over, and then she shook her head, smiling sheepishly. ”... Oh, my apologies. I must have seen the furs and heard the voice and mistaken you for someone I know, Mister Freg.” She looked at the darkening skies for a moment before gesturing down the path, ”It’s getting late, isn’t it?”

“Late is just the beginning of being early for something else,” Freg grunted. The great bullman stopped suddenly and shifted away from Li’Kalla. Bending slightly forward the minotaur let out a graveled gasp, “speaking of, Hinan.”

Waving Li’Kalla over, there stood on a tiny bush a single bloomed flower of cyan and gold. At first she had tilted her head curiously at the bullman, but once she saw the familiar shape of petals and the bright, living colors, she had to walk closer and get on her knees before the flower. She bent over and took in its scent with closed eyes, a scent that reminded her of peaceful days playing around with her cousins in grassy plains.

A few moments passed.

”What does Hinan mean, Mister Freg? Is it something pretty, like this flower?” She asked while she gently caressed its petals.

“Many generations have I walked, and many more have I called out Hinan, and yet very few have ever asked me what it meant,” Freg mused, his eyes bouncing off of the flower and to Li’Kalla, “Hinan,” He began, raising a finger to one of his horns, “is hornless, as I am Harnian, or with horn.”

He paused, “however you bring up a point, now that I know you a little better I can see there is more to you than a lack of horns, and so Hinan is no longer appropriate.”

The bull man thought for a moment, “perhaps I can call you by your given name?”

Li’Kalla smiled sadly, her eyes focused on the flower, taking in its every detail as if afraid it might vanish at any moment. ”My given name? Of course, it is Laina. Perhaps you’d like to give me a name, Mister Freg?”
Freg stood up straight, thoughts flickering in his eyes, “Dova-bo, a graceful dawn.”

”Dova-bo...”

Suddenly a tiny droplet fell from the sky and struck Freg’s cheek, then another, then one on top of Li’Kalla’s head. With a loud jangling of straps and clasps, the great minotaur released his mighty book from his back and held it high above the two, “Shall we continue our walk, Dova-bo?”

Li’Kalla watched in a mix of amusement and confusion as Freg used his book to shield them from the rain. However, before standing she had one last thing she wanted to do. She bent down and gave the flower a gentle kiss which left her lips tingling pleasantly. She smiled at it and finally stood and began walking down the path, with Freg guarding the both of them against the rain.

”Mister Freg, are you afraid of the Rain?” She asked while sparing one last sideways glance at the flower, now basking in the fresh rain.

“Mmmm,” Freg’s throat grumbled, “I can’t say that I am. Fear is rather expensive at my age, to spend it on rain would be rather poor of me, Dova-bo.”

”So it is,” Li’Kalla said, and after a long while, continued, ”I enjoy the Rain, Mister Freg. I would feel guilty if you ruined your precious book because of me.”

“Do not worry, Dova-bo,” Freg let his book fall from above them, clamping it under his arm, “my book, too, enjoys the rain.”

Rain was Li’Kalla favorite weather pattern, that was true. However, as the rain grew stronger and she became soaked, her expression turned from serene to sad, and an almost palpable change had washed over her demeanor.

“What bothers you, Dova-bo?” The minotaur suddenly said, as the pair passed a roofed gazebo amid a sea of shrubs

”O-Oh, it’s nothing Mister Freg,” She said as she wiped her face and walked past the gazebo, ”I can’t help but be relieved for the flower now that it’s raining, that’s all. I-I was afraid it might not make it if it didn’t rain...”

“Oh,” Freg hummed, “it will always make it, every flower here will. Unbeknownst to the tiny plants, diligent gardeners are always at the ready, much like in life.”

”Then, Mister Freg,” She sniffled, ”Who cares for the gardeners?”

What could only be described as a bull attempting a smile formed on Freg’s mouth, “who does indeed. Then again, perhaps our own gardeners are as unknown to us as we are to the plants. I suppose all we can do is bloom, Dova-bo.”

Li’Kalla clasped her hands close to her chest and sighed, ”Then I suppose that’s all we can do, isn’t it? Bloom...”

”Please excuse me if it seems incompetent of me, Mister Freg, but-” She bit her lip for a moment, ”I-I seem to have forgotten our destination.”

“I believe we have already made it, Dova-bo,” Freg hummed, “I was looking for a flower, and if I remember correctly, you were looking for-”

He waved his hand in front of him, the path ahead ending at the steps of a grand palace that was colored like the night, yet sparked with life and tiny glowing orbs, “-here.”

Li’Kalla stared in awe at the palace, admiring its strange qualities and most of all, the glowing orbs. She recognized them! So without a single moment of hesitation she started making her way towards the palace’s front doors. A few paces before reaching her destination, she turned towards Freg and waved. ”Mister Freg, thank you for accompanying me, I hope your search was fruitful.” She said with a nod of her head and a curtsy, before going up to the doors and knocking.

“Don’t forget to bloom, Dova-bo,” Freg answered as he turned around, and as he did, the door to the palace opened wide. A flock of hovering orbs of light greeted Li’Kalla in the doorway. Behind them a great stretching hallway pushed onward into the palace, countless doors on either side with a myriad of decor and paintings between. A sweet nostalgic scent permeated from the familiar walkway, and the carpets, though old held a memorable charm.

Li’Kalla smiled and poked one particular orb of light -- an orange, citrus smelling one. ”Hello there, little stars,” She said softly while petting another one, this one green and smelling of grass. The orbs danced happily around her and she giggled, a light blush coloring her cheeks, ”Oh, you make me feel welcome. Come, let’s go inside.”

Once inside, the doors closed behind her, but she didn’t mind. Instead she walked down the hall with a flock of orbs following her. Some went into doors and others played with her hair or her dress’ frilly hems.

Many different melodies played in the hall, sneaking out from the cracks under the doors and bouncing off the walls. Paintings of faraway places and familiar homesteads were showcased on the walls, alongside busts of unknown people and beings. Eventually the hallway came to a stop right outside a mighty door, and despite all its pomp and size, it was easily pushed aside by one of the tiny dreamweavers eliciting a subtle gaze of admiration from Li’Kalla.

As she entered the great ballroom, she saw thousands of the weavers spinning and dancing, all to a single tune being played by a lone figure in a strange throne that centered the room. The smiling gentleman blew softly into a pipe of many lengths and sizes, little toggles on the sides allowing him to control the airflow as he did. The tune was light and magical, as if a spirit of the forest had written the notes especially for Li’Kalla’s ears. The melody flowed into her body and seemed to become a part of her, and she could swear that the very air in the room was saturated with music, beauty and art. The height of life.

Li’Kalla, however, didn’t move an inch. While her whole body wanted and desired nothing more than to join the swarm of dancing dreamweavers, in her mind she knew something deeper was happening here. For this figure, the entity sitting on the throne in the centre of the room seemed familiar. Indeed, this entity had the same air about him as the gentleman from her previous dreams.

Slowly, Li’Kalla remembered her waking life. Bits and pieces of information popped up as she racked her mind for any hint or clue as to who this entity might be.

The first things that shocked her were when she noticed her different physical appearance. Right before her eyes, her skin went from fair to deathly pale. Her dress went from white to blue. Her skin was as soaked as it had been under the rain outside the palace, and her hair became shorter and blue, like the color of a lake in a cloudy day.

After that, she remembered her old life, her old death, and finally her new life and all those that had come forth at the same time as her.

She enjoyed the rain. However, the feeling of cold rain pelting her soft skin even when there were no clouds… Of being abandoned to soak under the tears of the heavens… The feeling that she had been feeling every single moment since grasping life for a second time. That feeling? She hated it.

Feeling her stomach churn and her heart grow heavy, Li’Kalla’s ears stopped registering the melody. Her eyes ignored the swarms of beautiful dancing orbs. She walked past it all, past everything, until she reached the bottom step of the throne in the center of the room. She looked up at the figure, so blissfully playing his odd instrument. Pretending like a simple melody, a simple dance could wash away all the pain, all the filth that her soul had become.

It felt like an eternity passed by the time she finally spoke. It was a soft, meek thing, her voice. ”K’nell?”

The Gentleman let go of his instrument, the many pipes floating away from him without ceasing their song. A grainy voice echoed around the pair, “yes?”

”Oh…” Li’Kalla took a step back and looked around, at the dance and the joy around them, ”What’s this? Why am I here?”

K'nell leaned forward, his voice hanging between the pair, “this is the Palace of Dreams. You are here because you sleep.”

The God of Sleep raised a hand and from thin air an oaken chair fitted with a plush crushed velvet cushion appeared next to Li'Kalla. He motioned for her to sit and so she did, making sure to do so in the most proper way she knew. Perhaps it was the music or the decor of the place, but she curtsied and sat slowly and deliberately, hands clasped on her lap. After a moment, she looked up at K’nell, her eternal blush somehow seeming more intense.

”... How much did you see? In that dream, I mean...”

“I see everything,” K'nell answered, “from the first dream to now.”

“The irony of it all, is in some dreams I see more than the dreamer,” He paused, letting his voice fade away into the echoes of the ballroom.

It was a long silence. Li’Kalla didn’t know what to do. She didn’t remember dreaming of anything too bad, but…

It was sudden. A single sob pierced through the veil of joy and entertainment in the room, and everything seemed to freeze. More were quick to follow as Li’Kalla desperately tried to wipe her eyes and hold herself together. She failed, and soon she was bawling like a lost child.

Some dreamweavers approached her, perhaps out of curiosity or maybe annoyance, but she ignored them. She felt sad, indignated, she felt violated, but most of all, she was ashamed.

”W-Why- I don’t- I don’t want y-you to… No one… So shameful- To see me like- Like t-that...” She muttered amidst sobs and whimpers, her tears mixing with the rainwater on her skin and dripping off her chin onto her dress.

A low hum seemed to cover K'nell as he thought and then finally the God's voice returned, “Shame… insists that in knowing, one would despise you for it.”

“I perhaps know more than I should,” K'nell continued, “and yet my respect for you grows.”

The dreamweavers seemed to cover her, almost like a soft blanket as the God spoke his grainy words, “I admire your strength.”

Li’Kalla shook a bit each time the dreamweavers tried to cover her body, and after a while had calmed down enough to respond to K’nell.

”Y-You… You do? But...” Li’Kalla took in a deep, shaky breath and, after a moment, exhaled. ”I see. You must have not… Seen all there is to see. I’m glad. However-” Li’Kalla paused, stood up, grabbed the cushioned chair and started climbing the steps up to the throne.

”You may know that I...” She grunted as she reached the same level as K’nell and set down the chair in front of him, taking a seat in the same formal way she’d sat down before, ”... Am in fact rather weak. Letting myself be deceived, enduring lies and abuse, being just… Afraid. I am not worthy of your admiration, Master K’nell.” Li’Kalla said gloomily.

omeThere was silence, and then all at once K’nell stood up, his throne flickering out of sight as he did. The God extended his right arm perpendicular to his side, his left staying stiff against him. There was a soft rumble and suddenly two emerald green stalks gently grew from the floor. The one to his left grew unfettered and quickly reached his shoulder, the bud at the end blossoming into a quaint red.

The stalk to his right grew gently, up until it was blocked by K’nells hand. The plant was forced to divert, only for K’nell to block it once again. The plant swerved but eventually made it past the God’s hand, reaching his shoulder, the bud standing ready atop it’s squiggly body.

“There is but one thing left for this plant to do,” K’nell echoed, “to show the world that despite its journey, it is strong.”

He looked directly at Li’Kalla, “It just needs to bloom.”

As his words faded the flower blossomed, it’s colors radiating the ballroom in a wash of beauty. Colors from all over the spectrum glossed it’s pedals, and as K’nell sat back down on a sudden reappearing throne, his voice hung between the two Gods, “without a little rain, there can be no rainbow.”

”I… Suppose you’re right.” Li’Kalla pursed her lips as she took in the sight of the new flower, ”Thank you, I’ll try, but-” Li’Kalla bit her lip.

”What is it you want from me? You’ve been too nice to someone like me. You must desire something, right?”
“What could I possibly desire,” K’nell answered, “but for the world to see what I do.”

Li’Kalla tilted her head curiously and scooted her chair closer, now sitting on the edge. ”There’s one more thing. Hermes. You are her creator, right?”

“I am,” The voice answered, “and she’s shown me the great kindness you’ve showed her. For that I am grateful.”

Li’Kalla frowned and looked away, ”She is too innocent, she’ll be trampled and soiled like a flower in the path of a herd when the time comes… Like me. You know this, don’t you?”

Another silence conquered the ballroom, only for the grainy voice to reappear in time, “She is on her path, freely, and she is not without those who care.”

The Goddess took K’nell’s hand in hers in the blink of an eye, stared at him with narrowed pupils emitting an anger that could rival Sartravius’ Muspellheim in heat. The intensity and touch causing K’nell to shift towards her as she spoke, ”I care for her, and I will destroy anyone who dares lay a finger on her. She’s-” Her intensity faltered, ”She’s… Special, and important,” Li’Kalla said with a small dreamy smile sneaking onto her face. The aggressiveness with which she’d grasped K’nell’s hand turned to gentleness, ”And I want her to have fun. That’s it. And, you know, I was wondering if you were bad or good, what with basically violating my privacy, but-”

“Then it would appear,” K’nell began, shifting in his throne to the position of a thinker, “she has four Gods who care for her.”

The God hummed, “As for whether if I am good or if I am bad, I cannot say. I see myself for who I am, and to contrast my life against another’s never brings good tidings.”

Li’Kalla slowly let go of K’nell’s hand and clasped hers on top of her lap once more, ”... I wouldn’t call you bad. You did create Hermes after all, so… And well, that dream was… Nice. All things considered. I wouldn’t mind having more dreams like that… Back in my old body, wearing my usual clothes. How did you find out all of these things? I’ve never told those things to anyone.”

“Even a God’s mind sings loudly in the land of dreams,” K’nell answered cryptically, “I listen. I listen to thoughts, memories, things forgotten and things that never happened. I take it all and then I create with it. I make truths, lies, possibilities and endings as well as beginnings. Anything can happen in a dream, and anything can be used for such a dream.”

“And only after all this, does the dream happen,” The God leaned back in his throne.

”Can you create dreams upon request? Custom dreams. I-I’d like to try one of those one day.”

K’nell sat in thought for a moment, “I suppose I could.”

“It could be interesting,” The God of Sleep slowly stood up, circling around his throne in a thoughtful pace, “yes, I think I rather like the idea.”

“For you,” K’nell turned to Li’Kalla, placing his hands on the back of his throne “I will allow a custom dance to be orchestrated in the palace.”

Li’Kalla perked up upon hearing the words, wide-eyed and with a sparkly look to her gaze. She grinned widely and brought up her hands to her chest, ”Yay- I mean, Yes! Not right now, though. Later! You’ll know when, I’ll make sure to think really hard of it before going to sleep next time. You have to make sure I don’t realize it’s a dream, though. Maybe distract me with cute animals or children when I start getting too nosy!” At that, Li’Kalla jumped up from her seat and smiled smugly.

”Don’t get all weird about it though, Master K’nell! It’ll be a fun dream I promise. We’ll be doing things I always wanted to do back home!”

“You have my word” K’nell tilted his head ever so slightly, “I look forward to the experience-”

”And now, I wake up!” She shouted energetically, pumping a fist up in the air.

Nothing happened.

A moment later she cast a ‘help me’ glance at K’nell, not wanting to be embarrassed in front of the dreamweavers. A low rumble came from the Sleep God, his eversmile making it difficult to discern what it meant, but in a mere moment he was snapping his fingers and-

Li’Kalla’s eyes opened.

She was lying on her side next to a moss pond. A lone ladybug was crawling over her neck and she went to swat it away when she noticed she was holding something in her hand -- A flower with petals of every color. At the same time, the top of her ear itched and she found a gold and blue flower neatly perched on her ear.

”Mister Freg and Master K’nell...” Li’Kalla muttered to herself after sitting up.

might cost

K’nell materializes a dream flower, discounted to 0

Summary

Li'Kalla finds herself in a strange garden and decides that she is late.

On her journey from the garden she bumps into a bullman named Freg and they chat for a while.

Later Li'Kalla comes upon the Palace of Dreams where she interacts with K'nell. The two agreeing in the end to do a custom dream.

Li'Kalla then awakens with two presents.

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

Frau Blucher!

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

The world was pins as it stretched past Hermes. Her sandals fluttered, but any sounds were long behind her as she continued her journey, Poppler in hair and spear on her back. Her eyelids were slightly pink, having just woken up not long ago, a big smile conquering her face as it usually did after a meeting with her God.

Suddenly her eyes flickered downward and at an impossibly quick angle, her direction changed. Ashalla’s blue stretched around her vision, but a unique and new color centered in her vision: gold. In mere seconds the figure of a golden boat emerged, and a second more, she was standing on top of it. Her sandals padded softly as she walked across the deck of what was a marvelously massive boat fitted with thousands of decorations and engravings. There was also the strong smell of herbal teas and extracts to greet her, and despite not knowing exactly what those were, she thought it smelt a lot like one of the Tendlepog meadows after a warm rain.

The boat seemed abandoned at the moment, with the only indicator of life being some distant ruckus under deck. There was evidence of recent activity on deck, with a few footprints and some strange peels littering the immediate area around a small table, which itself had some crumbs and leftovers on it. However, shortly after Hermes’ arrival, the ruckus below was complemented, or perhaps contrasted, by a sweet, gentle tune coming from the spires above - specifically the very top of the middle spire.

Kalmar isn’t gonna be too happy about this, Hermes thought to herself as she stared at the left overs and rinds. With one quick motion she swiped up a handful and shoved it into her mouth; she was nothing if not a helper. While munching on her compostable snack she decided to see what the pretty noise was all about and launched herself to the top of the middle spire in single wink.

As Hermes landed on the ornate, gilded veranda of the top floor, the music stopped. There was a pause, followed by a strange, elongated shuffling noise, as if the planks on the floor inside were being sanded with exquisitely fine sandpaper. Then, slowly, the white-papered, rosewood-reinforced slider doors slid apart in a gentle motion. The agitator of the doors set a pair of silver serpentine eyes upon the mortal and flicked its forked tongue. There was a soft, pensive hum in a voice that could grease chariot axles.

“My… Another visitor?” said the snake with an ever-widening grin.

Hermes studied the snake man, swallowing her gritty snack and flashing a cheshire smile to match her new acquaintances’ when suddenly she remembered Narzhak's sage words. Her grin turned sour and she hefted her club over her shoulder.

“Friend or foe?” She asked sternly, her voice nonetheless betraying her gregarious nature.

“Rather direct, aren't we,” the snake said, surprised. “Who are you?” He eyed the club. He sniffed the air around Hermes and lashed around with his tongue. “... mortal...“ He let out a ponderous hum as he let his eyes scan every detail of the woman.

“Are you a gift, by chance?”

“I'm Hermes,” The dreamer answered, confused. Poppler zipped out of her hair and spun around her head, “and this is Poppler.”

”Zzt!”

The snake craned his head and folded his hands softly. He leant closer. “My, my… The first mortal guest in my home. This warrants a toast!” The snake slithered into his room. Meanwhile, a young girl turned the corner of the wall and gave Hermes a smile. She silently stepped a little closer and carefully reached out to pat Poppler.

“What an adorable little thing…” she said.

Poppler whizzed around the woman while Hermes watched on perplexed, her eyes flickering between where the snake man was and where the new girl is. She wasn’t used to this, two people at once, and while she normally would be quite excited about it, there was a new pit of anxiety in her stomach. Her brow furrowed, pinching the spiral on her forehead.

“Who are you?” She suddenly asked the newcomer.

The girl stopped fruitlessly chasing the little clump of clouds and regained her formal composure. She bowed before Hermes, albeit not too deeply, and smiled as she rose up.

“Forgive me. I should have introduced myself first, perhaps. I am Xiaoli, First Counsellor to Shengshi. You were… Hermes, correct? What are you doing here?” Xiaoli asked sweetly.

“Experiencing,” Hermes said slowly and admittedly cryptically, “What are you doing here?”

The girl nodded, humming affirmatively. “I serve my lord as he wishes. So you are a traveler, then.” She grinned from ear to ear, making sure to hide the grin behind her sleeve before too many of her colourful teeth showed. “Can you tell me about the places you’ve been?” she asked almost desperately, completely ignoring Hermes’ second question.

“I don’t know,” Hermes brow furrowed, “are we friends?”

The girl looked to the side, then up and down Hermes’ admittedly much taller and developed form, and then shyly down at her own feet, which she shuffled nervously. After a quick moment, she glanced back up at Hermes.

“... I… I do hope we are,” she said warily, blinking once or twice.

Hermes stared at the girl with increasing intensity, her knuckles straining as her fists tightened around her club, and then all at once her shoulders relaxed and she let out a happy sigh through a wide smile, “oh good, because Narzhak was telling me that there are friends and foes and nothing else and to be honest I want to make more friends than I do foes, I mean I’ve only smashed one thing and while I liked it, I feel really bad because I don’t know what the worm did to deserve a smashing but it got it, and I didn’t even eat it because Narzhak said it was okay, but don’t tell Kalmar because I made a promise, but to be truthful the promise was just about fish and not about worms, but still I don’t want to upset him, I like him a lot, he is my friend too...”

Her words were endless as all the happy things that she had wanted to say exited her mouth without ending, her mind racing with new things to share, “... and also I caught four new fish and ate each on of them, but not the scales because they cut my mouth…”

And more, “... she touched my cheek and I really liked her food…”

And more, “... then I ate the stuff I found on the table down there but it tasted like soil…”

And some more, “... he is my God and he really cares, it makes me feel warm in my chest…”

And a little more, “... I don’t know how I feel about his mustache but so far I really like this house.”

As she told her story, Xiaoli appeared to pay attention to every single detail, her face shaping all manners of emotions from anger at Narzhak’s warlike tendencies, to fear at the mentioning of Kalmar’s name. Luckily, no thunderous ruckuses came from inspire the chambres, so the snake likely had not heard.

“I would really like to meet Her Holiness Li’Kalla one day… She sounds so sweet,” she mused.

“Wait, you ate the peels? You are not supposed to eat those!” Xiaoli raised a finger and shook it at the taller lady. “If you want food in a house, you ask the owners. It’s better than eating what is left over, okay?”

Poppler settled on Xiaoli’s nose with nothing but a soft popping sound as Hermes soaked up her words, “I didn’t want to eat anything, I was just helping.”

Xiaoli sighed. “That is really kind of you, but we would not want a guest to get herself a tummy ache just helping us clean up!” She tried to maintain the strict motherly demeanour, but it soon gave away to a giggle that became an uncontrolled laugh, likely due to the cloudling tickling her face in addition to the absurdity of the situation.

“I cannot believe you actually ate mango peels!”

“It tasted fuzzy,” Hermes added, “but more importantly, I made a promise -- but.”

She looked at Poppler and smiled softly, “if you’re saying I don’t need to do that anymore, I’m okay with that.”

The girl patted the fuzzy thing on her nose and crossed her eyes in an attempt to look at it. As it strained her eyes, she winced and gave them a soft rub. “Yes,” she added, “there is no need to eat fruit peels anymore.”

As the girl finished her sentence, there was a rumbling call from below.

“Xiaoli! Where did…” It was muffled by another ruckus. “...the wine?”

“In the cellar as always, my lord!” Xiaoli called back over the railing. She gave Hermes a sheepish smile. “Pardon me for a moment. My lord requires my presence. Feel free to explore the ship as you’d like or to wait on deck.”

With that, the girl tipped her torso at Hermes and gave Poppler a pat before speeding downstairs, the small cloudling trailing her.

“Poppler!”

”Pop pop!” The cloudling whizzed back to Hermes and zipped into her knotted hair. Hermes sighed and plopped onto the deck of the ship, “Poppler, I have a problem.”

”Zzt?”

“Everyone else seems to know so much more than me. I can’t even tell friend from foe, it’s all very confusing.”

”Pop.”

“Well, yeah I know thaaaat”

”Pop!”

Hermes smiled, her toothy grin reminiscent of her creators, “I just need to assemble all the new experiences, I think.”

Poppler emerged from her hair and rested on the palm of her outstretched hand, “thank you, Poppler.”

The small cloudling crackled happily in her palm and she poked it with her nose, little dew drops forming on her skin.

The pair sat together in a cheery silence, each thinking about their perspective purposes. Slowly time drained into a small happy buzz, causing the Dreamer to close her eyes, her muscles relaxing. The next thing she knew, she was napping on the sun soaked deck of the ship, her mind dancing with her creator as her body released all the stresses of traveling. A content smile formed on her lips, she could hear his excitement at her words--

Suddenly, the doors of the palace swung open with such intensity that they buffeted everything on deck. “Welcome!” the snake boomed in a voice that could have caused quakes.

Hermes’ eyes shot open, her dreams washing away rapidly to the back of her mind. Poppler swirled up in surprise, circling Hermes defensively with small crackling bursts of static.

”Zzt zzt!”

Hermes rubbed her eyes as servants zoomed past both the god’s flanks, carrying plates on plates with exquisite dishes and trays on trays with exciting drinks. The servants placed them down in an alternating pattern from left and right on a suddenly manifested longtable between Hermes and the now-clapping water god.

“This is a magnificent day - our first mortal guest! Congratulations, little, uh…” He paused for a moment. “I want to say… Burmese?”

Hermes sat up, her vision still blurry, “B-burmese” she blabbered, not quite awake, “Hermes.”

She pinned her elbows on the table and propped her head up, attempting to grasp at her sudden awakedness, “what--” a small yawn escaped her,“--what’s your name, again?”

The snake’s smile quivered a little. “Muh-... My name?” He took a deep breath, paused and cleared his throat. “Why, who else would I be but Shengshi, lord of the thousand streams currently your host!” He leaned forward and gave her a somewhat malignant wink.

“Do not make me remind you again, please.”

“Oh,” Hermes forced a smile, something about Shengshi unsettled her -- and she was best friends with a titan of iron and violence. Her eyes darted all about looking for something in particular, “where is Xiaoli?”

The snake raised an eyebrow and leaned in a little closer. “You are a curious one,” he said in a deep, oily voice. “You are captivated by a river nymph, yet pay little attention to the actual host… Your bravery is…” He flicked his forked tongue. “Fascinating…”

He recoiled and straightened himself up. He turned his face to the side and called, “Xiaoli!” A moment later, the girl came out of the gates carrying a tray with two small flasks and two small cups.

“Did you want me here already, my lord?”

“I always want you around, my dear,” the snake teased and gave her a wink, at which she giggled sheepishly. “However, it was not I who summoned you.” He pointed a clawed finger at Hermes.

“She did.”

“Yes,” Hermes said with a level of uncertainty, her eyes on Xiaoli, “since we are friends, I was wondering if you wanted to sit with me and Poppler. We also need to seal the pact,”

She extended her index finger, “it’s a very important part.”,

Hermes looked at Shengshi with a certain hesitancy, “and then maybe we can be friends too.”

As she spoke, Poppler floated over to the unstoppered flasks and suddenly disappeared inside of one with a small pop! This solicited a genuine smile from Hermes as she sat on her words, finger still extended and eyes focused. Xiaoli looked dumbstruck and stared into the flask in a fit of confusion. She picked it up and gave it a gentle shake, but found that nothing came out.

The snake furrowed his brows. “Friends, you propose? How direct…” His lips curved into a smile. “Who taught you how to form bonds of friendship, if I may ask?”

“A lot of different people,” Hermes announced, her usual energy returning to her voice, “also myself. I like it a lot, and it was easy to figure out, at least at the start.”

A proud smile stretched across her face, she could feel her experiences culminating, not to mention that she is pretty sure that that was the most articulate sentence she had ever created to date, “I’m still learning about foes though, so don’t ask me about that yet.”

The snake’s smile grew more genuine and he let out a warm chuckle. “Do not worry, little Hermes - you will not learn about foes here. Tell me, are you hungry?” He gestured to the long table. The scents were indescribable: Spices unforeseen throughout creation coloured the air with thick, fantastical fumes; the selections of meats and fish were almost too perfectly prepared, to the point where their tenderness had transcended the quality of texture and become an aura; the sides, if one could even call them that, produced a near unnatural image of deliciousness that seduced the pallet to the point where the tongue ought to take a cold shower.

Before Hermes could even answer, Poppler ascended out of the second flask and zipped on over to the food, submerging itself into a small bowl of hazel-coloured sauce. The Dreamer smiled, “my stomach is a little bubbly from the peels from earlier, but if it would make you my friend, I could eat some more.”

She looked over at Xiaoli, “can you help? There is a lot, much more than a worm for sure.”

Xiaoli looked over to the snake, who, after a pause, gave her a nod. The girl grinned and brought the tray over to the table in a few giggly skips. She sat down and patted the seat next to her, winking at Hermes. The snake slithered over to the far end of the table, where a glorious golden throne flanked with two ruby-eyed, amber-scaled, ivory-clawed gold dragons manifested.

“Please, eat your fill,” he said.

Hermes clamored over and sat down next to Xiaoli, dropping her heavy club and spear beside her. She quickly poked Xiaoli’s sandy cheek, keeping her finger in place and waiting for Xiaoli to return the gesture. The girl seemed confused and sheepishly returned the poke, soliciting a cheshire grin from Hermes.

“We are friends now,” She let her finger fall to her side and began to reach for some of the food; however, Xiaoli reached out to stop her, shaking her head swiftly at Hermes.

“Wait until he has eaten some,” she whispered. “Trust me… My friend.”

As Hermes pondered Xiaoli’s words, a suspiciously poofy Poppler left a perfectly clean bowl and quietly plopped into another one, filled to the brim with sugary glaze. Hermes nodded after a short pause.

The Dreamer turned to look at Shengshi, her eyes studying the mysterious snake-man and his bounty, “did you kill all these yourself?”

The snake, who appeared to be examining a fried shrimp, hummed absent-mindedly. “Nnnno. All of these were created in the kitchen, already prepared. I bet one could not find half of these creatures on Galbar.” He picked up an eight-tentacled creature and gestured to it. “Look, it’s a miniature Anzillu! I bet those do not exist yet,” he snickered.
“By the way, go ahead and eat,” he repeated.

Xiaoli once again gestured for Hermes to wait. “He is testing you,” she whispered softly. “He has been waiting for a mortal guest for so long - he wants to see what you can and cannot do.”

Hermes suddenly chuckled, her vibrating laughter causing a tiny crackle to sound from inside one of the bottles. Her gaze met Shengshi, a playful glint hidden in her black eyes “do you want to know what I can do?”

The snake raised an eyebrow and took his eyes off the shrimp, placing them instead on Hermes. His lips parted in a smirk and he put the shrimp in his mouth.

“Certainly, Hermes, my dear guest. Do share with us your talents.” Xiaoli, as a way of gesturing to Hermes that they now could eat, put some food on Hermes’ place and poured some funny-smelling yellow water into her cup.

Poppler crackled happily as it left a bottle and whizzed over to the drink, dipping itself under the liquid. Hermes smile grew, “I can beat you in a foot race!”

The snake’s enthusiasm visibly dimmed. He laughed dryly and rolled his eyes partially. “Clever girl,” he mused. He tapped his claws on the tabletop. “Anything else?”

Hermes’ eyes darted for something else, she wasn’t expecting her joke to fall flat, “uh!” She looked down at Poppler, who now sat in an empty cup, “he can drink a lot.”

This appeared to arouse the snake’s attention, as the god craned forward and planted both elbows on the tabletop, placing his chin firmly on his intertwined knuckles.

“Is that so? Well, I suppose that is a hypothesis that warrants testing.” He snapped his fingers and the servants brought ten barrels, all marked with the same symbol. Meanwhile, Xiaoli had her face in her hands and was muttering quietly to herself. Upon the barrels’ arrival, the snake got up, grabbed two empty bowls from the table and filled them both from the nearest barrel. He held one close to his head and reached out with the other.

“Come hither, then, little gasling, and let us see whether a cloud can match a god in tolerance!”

”Zzt! Poppler zipped onward, cheered on by Hermes’ clapping. The cloudling quickly submerged itself into the bowl. In a few moments the liquid had all but disappeared, the cloudling no worse for wear, save a little whiter and slightly poofier.

The snake smirked slyly. “Not bad…” He swallowed the contents of his own bowl and refilled the two. “... But can you keep this speed up, little one?” He emptied his bowl again.

Meanwhile, Xiaoli turned to Hermes with a wry expression etched on her face. “My dear friend Hermes, this is all a fun spectacle, but…” Another drink was had by the two, followed with empty challenges and “zzts”. The girl continued, “But this may not be such a great idea, after all.”

“Why?” Hermes looked at Xiaoli,” Poppler really can’t lose.”

The girl put on an anxious frown. “That’s what I was afraid of…”

---

The last barrel revealed its contents to the world as the snake god sent his scaled fist through the top, breaking half of the top off and causing several litres to spill out. As the god groggily attempted to dam up the hole with his hand, seeing as he could not let the wine go to waste, he dropped his bowl on the floor, shattering it.

“Gah, cu’shd wosshname…”

Xiaoli let out a cold, emotionless giggle. “It had to happen again, didn’t it…” She groaned and turned to Hermes. “I am sorry you got to see him like this…”

Hermes leaned into Xiaoli’s ear, “maybe he should just pee, when I get full of drink, that’s what I do and I feel a lot better right after.”

Poppler crackled greedily, its form mighty and puffy. Suddenly there was a tiny clap of thunder and a bit of cloud broke off from the cloudling’s engorged form, then another, and another, and another until the cloudling was back to its original size, except now it was surrounded by new cloudlings. The tiny swarm popped and crackled excitedly, making their way to the sugary desserts that had gone crusty and stale during the competition.

The snake, having keeled over and crashed into the floor, raised a shaky fist. “Buh-... Urp! Buh-heaten buh a fart…” A tear ran down the snake god’s cheek. “Beatun by a faaa-ha-haaart!” He let out a long wail that was occasionally interrupted by burps.

Xiaoli groaned again. “Oh, I told him to take it easy, but nuh-hooooo!” she whispered loudly to herself. “Just had to be stupid and challenge an actual cloud. Why does he have to be such a...” The following words were unintelligible for the sake of Hermes’ innocence.

Hermes pursed her lips and gave a worried look, “Should we go?”

”Zzt!”

The girl shot her snoring master a furious scowl. He turned back to Hermes and sighed. “That may be for the best. I am terribly sorry it had to end like this.” She grabbed Hermes’ hands and squeezed them gently.

“I really hope we can see each other again soon!”

Hermes’ flipped her hands around so that she was holding Xiaoli’s instead, “but why don’t you come then?” The Dreamer smiled wide, “we can go see Li’Kalla and Narzhak, Kalmar, K’nell, and everyone else.”

The woman suddenly stopped, her eyes widening, “we can be friends with everyone. I can show you my home too!”

Xiaoli suddenly appeared dumbstruck, her eyes darting between Shengshi and Hermes. “I-... I…” She looked over to Shengshi again. “I…”

Xiaoli cleared her throat, looking downcast. “I… Want to…” She took a deep breath. “I want to join you! Please, take me away!”

The Dreamer gave her one of her cheshire grins and quickly organized her items into loops on her back. As she tidied herself, Poppler suddenly zipped into her hair, with nothing more than a content crackle. Hermes sighed happily and faced Xiaoli, her playful gaze dancing with glee.

“Shengshi is with K’nell right now, anyway.” She reassured the woman as she suddenly wrapped her arms around her. Before another word could be spoken, there was a thunderous clap, and the entire ensemble turned into a blur. The world turned to pins as they darted over endless tracts of land.

“So where do you want to go first?” Hermes asked, her scream turning into a whisper that had to be said directly into Xiaoli’s ear.

Xiaoli looked utterly slack-jawed at what had just transpired. She looked at Hermes with a glistening shine in her eyes. “Wh-... Wherever you would like,” she said dreamingly.

There was a long silent pause as Hermes thought, the group ascending ever higher. Quickly wisps of clouds enveloped the group as Hermes continued to think. There was so many things to show her new friend, she had no idea where to star-

Suddenly there was a brief flash of gold, but only for a split second, and then suddenly, everything changed.

Virgin God vs Chad Cloud

Hermes zooms over the sea to Istais, spots Jiangzhou, boards the ship and eats fruit peels.

Upon hearing music from above, she hops up to check it out. She finds creepy snek, who immediately invites her to dinner. Xiaoli shows up and immediately falls in love with Chad Poppler.

Xiaoli hid Sheng’s booze and has to help him find it. Meanwhile, Poppler and Hermes wait around and eventually fall asleep, only to get wakened the fuck up by Shengshi soloing “Be Our Guest” to the melodic rhythms of heavy metal and cats in heat.

The food is served. Sheng wants to test Hermes’ Chinese manners and sees if she will eat before him, which Xiaoli advises her not to do. Hermes cracks a flat joke and later claims Poppler can outdrink Shengshi, which the snake disagrees with.

Chad Poppler drinks Sheng under the table (and then has babies, Poppler, not Sheng). Meanwhile, Xiaoli and Hermes share a moment and Xiaoli decides to join her on her adventures. The two head off to the Lustrious Garden shortly thereafter.

No Might or FP spent.
Lots of self esteem broken.

Fanfic Fuel

“Friend or smash?” She asked sternly, her voice nonetheless betraying her gregarious nature.

“Now you speakin’ my language, babe,” said the snake.

Meanwhile, a young girl turned the corner of the wall and gave Hermes a smile. She silently stepped a little closer and carefully reached out to pat Poppler.

“What an adorable little thing…” she said.

Poppler craned his neck to look around her backside, “you aint so bad yourself, toots.”

The snake’s smile grew more genuine and he let out a warm chuckle. “Do not worry, little Hermes - you will not learn about methamphetamines here, that’s Anz’s job”

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

Demigods. Ye

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

Monkgey

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

FP: 0 MP: 04

“AH!” Hermes yelped as she landed at an almost blinding speed. To her surprised, her sandals managed to slow her down at a rate that should’ve broken her neck, but in this case, didn’t, not even a little.

A content smile broke across her face. After endless stretches of Ashalla’s blue ocean, she had finally found land in the west, pretty land too. There was grass, that was green strangely enough. A mesmerizingly thick blanket of fog, making Hermes feel completely isolated and alone, and --

”Zzt!”

Hermes rolled her eyes, maybe she wasn’t completely alone. Letting out a small sigh, Hermes began her trek inwards, Poppler swirling around her and playing in the humid mist. Closing her eyes, the woman began to whistle as she strolled, her arms swinging happily. The acoustics were remarkable, her whistle seemingly stretching ad infinitum in all directions, nothing but her, Poppler and the strange green grass for miles.

THUNK!

A plume of Hermes’ alabaster hair erupted as she suddenly smacked right into a wall. Rubbing her nose, the woman peeled her eyes open, suddenly face to face with the outside of a manor - and it was a large manor. Outside, the walls were all adorned with metal and ceramic ornaments, some being strange lanterns hanging off hooks and others being empty ceramic pots on windowsills, awaiting for a kind soul to plant a seed in them and help them fulfill their purpose. It was a beautiful manor, it sure was.

And yet, it was abandoned in this strange misty island, with seemingly no one to look after it. A cursory exploration of the Manor yielded several useless details -- such as a broken window with a dressed up mop on the ground just outside it, and the front doors being slightly ajar.

Hermes poked the door and it creaked as it opened a little more. She pursed her whistling lips and poked it again, the door opening even more. Quickly she slinked right through the opening, Poppler trailing behind her with tittering pops here and there.

Inside the Manor, there were stacks of dirty porcelain plates everywhere, some with food scraps still on them. Had a feast been celebrated here recently, and if so, by whom? The island was deserted. A slight movement in the corner of the room caught Hermes’ sight and she spun to meet it. It was a plate, floating mid-air, levitating on its way to join a nearby stack of plates. When it had joined its brethren, another plate of those left on every surface of the Manor began floating its way to the stack. And another. And another.

Until one plate stopped and froze. Agonizingly slow moments passed, and then the plate began slowly floating toward the source of the Hermes’ endless whistling -- or perhaps was it approaching Poppler’s crackling -- up until it bumped against the woman and reeled back a few feet. Bewildered Hermes reached aimlessly forward with her hands, trying to find the perpetrator, her little cloudling friend whizzing around in confusion.

At that point, the plate floated back to the floor, and remained still. In the distance, or perhaps all around her, a melancholic tune began playing, one that made the mist seem heavy, one that made the air difficult to breathe… One that made the grass look gray.

”H-Hello! I’m, uh, Li’Ka...” The soft voice came from behind Hermes, from the entrance to the Manor. It quickly trailed off into a murmur. It was a woman dressed in a simple blue dress, ragged at the heels. Her skin was deathly pale with the exceptions of the intense blush on her cheeks, and she wore a slightly defiant expression on her face. She seemed to be trying too hard to be regal. In her arms she carried a small Box, from which the distant tune came.

Hermes seemed to shrink, her lips turning into a big smile but her eyes slightly worried, “My name is Hermes, and this is Poppler.”

”Pop pop!”

“Is this your home?” Hermes questioned, her voice crossed between a little shy and enthusiastic to meet another person. Her eyes flickered to the box of sounds curiously. The cloudling spun around Li’Kalla as if matching Hermes curiosity.

”Hermes,” Li’Kalla looked up for a second, then looked back at Hermes, ”Y-You could say it is my home, but… In truth I haven’t lived here for a long time…” Li’Kalla said with her eyes following Poppler closely. ”Tell me, y-you’re not a God, right?”

“I’m a Dreamer” Hermes announced proudly. She pointed at the black swirl on her forehead, “made by God!”

Li’Kalla looked at Hermes, and laughed, ”Pffhahaha!” Her face looked much prettier with a smile on it -- Hermes began laughing along with her, albeit confused -- and after laughing Li’Kalla blew on Poppler, the little cloudling spiraling in the wind. ”What is he? He seems to be made of clouds. Did you know I created clouds? He’s very cute.”

“I know now,” Hermes took a step closer, the cloudling zipping right into her nest of hair, “do you like making clouds?” Her eyes bounced again to the curious cube.

”I… Don’t know?” Li’Kalla shrugged, the movement causing the box to shift a little in her arms. She gasped and fixed her grip on it, ”Uh, it’s just my duty, you know.”

”... Are you hungry? There might still be some leftovers from when Chopstick came over to cook...”

Hermes nodded, she remembered K’nell planting the idea of food in her head though she never needed it, it was definitely an experience worth experiencing, “I want to eat a lot.”

“Can we eat?” She pushed, any facade of being shy now long gone, “and you can tell me about making clouds and cooking with Chopstick, and about your sound cube, and your home, and your dress, and why you have the same skin as me.”

She punctuated her last list item by holding out her colorless arms, “I like it.”

Li’Kalla smiled demurely and set down the Box of Orchestration on a nearby chair, then she went up to Hermes and -- after almost grabbing her hand and then regretting her choice at the last moment -- led her to another room, the dining room. It resembled more of a Hall, with a table so large that fifty people could easily sit and eat by its side. This part of the Manor was clean, and Li’Kalla excitedly drew a chair for Hermes.

”Sit, please! I will bring the food in just a second, Hermes! I will answer your questions over some food.” And with that, Li’Kalla left the Dreamer alone in a fancy room, with silver goblets and cutlery and gold-embroidered cloths covering the chairs.

Hermes quickly -- as quick as her sandals would allow her -- zipped through the room, stopping at precise moments to study various objects and creating so much wind that the cloths began to wave and Poppler was forced to hide deeper inside her jungle of hair. Her intelligent dark eyes nearly bulged as she soaked in all the new stimulus.

“I like it,” She concluded as she attempted to juggle two of the goblets, resulting in a loud clattering as they crashed to the floor before she went to go grab something else.

“I like it a lot,” She announced loudly, standing on top of the table, “it’s all very pretty.”

”It is! Isn’t it?”

Li’Kalla entered the dining room with a plate of leftovers on each hand. There were lots of meat, both aquatic and terrestrial and perhaps aerial on one of the plates drizzled with different sauces, and the other plate held a mighty salad including several vegetables cooked to varying degrees of perfection.

”Come on, sit!” She said as she set down the two plates on the table and sat down, patting the seat next to her which ended up not being the one she had drawn for Hermes before.

The Dreamer leaped off of the table, and somehow through a strange work of acrobatics she managed to land on her bum, square in the seat. Her eyes scanned the smorgasbord before her. Poppler suddenly emerged from Herme’s now heavily knotted hair and made a beeline for some of the more sugary of sauces, rolling around in it happily. Taking a cue from the cloudling, Hermes grabbed a handful of salad and mashed it into her mouth.

Li’Kalla giggled and rested her elbows on the arm of her chair and in turn her head on her hands. For a few moments she watched happily as Hermes ate, and then her expression became a little more serious. [color=steelblue]”Your question about my skin, and yours -- I don’t really know. I’m sorry.”[color] She seemed truly sad that she couldn’t give Hermes an answer.

“That’s okay,” Hermes patted Li’Kalla’s hand, leaving a tacky residue which quickly vanished due to Li’Kalla’s eternally soaking wet skin, “it’s good skin anyways.”

”Pop pop pop…” The cloudling was completely covered in sugar meat glaze, prompting a hearty laugh from Hermes and a big eerily-cheshire smile.

”The other question, about the ‘Sound Cube’? That is, uhm… A Gift, I suppose,” She sighed, ”From Vakk. I don’t like listening to it… I can’t let a gift be wasted, though, it wouldn’t be righ-”

“I like it!” Hermes cut the god off, “it makes a sound without a mouth-”

”Zzt!”

“Or… a cloud?” Hermes shrugged.

Li’Kalla smiled and tilted her head. Slowly, she pointed a finger at Hermes and poked her cheek. Hermes accepted the poke with a wide grin, her warm flesh scrunching from the sensation of a wet finger, and as if mirroring Li’Kalla she reached out with her own finger and poked Li’Kalla’s cheek.

”Ah-” Li’Kalla gasped and recoiled a little, before breathing deeply and settling down again, ”I’m sorry… It’s been a long time since I’ve felt… Anyone, in this kind of way.” She said lamely and went on to caress Hermes’ cheek gently, before turning and passing her a cloth to dry herself.
“It’s okay, it was an experience,” Hermes took the cloth and wiped her face, “Experiencing is living and living is my purpose.”

”Huh, not all experiences are good to have, Hermes. I’m sure you’ll understand that one day.”

“Maybe,” Hermes paused, “But if I stop, good or bad, I am no longer living, and that’s not very good in itself.”

Li’Kalla directed her gaze to an unseen horizon, a place far away, and she frowned. ”Sometimes they make you feel like you’d rather never have been born in the first place...” After a moment, she suddenly turned to look at Hermes again, ”Can you promise me something?”

“I’ve never done that before, so I’m going to go with a hard yes,” Hermes smiled, “I will promise you.”

”Be happy. You’re too pure, just like I used to be… So, be happy! If you need someone to talk to, I’m here, alright?”

Hermes thought for a moment, “Are you sad?”

Li'Kalla looked away, “... Having you here makes me happier. That goes for you too, Poppler.”

”Pop!”

Hermes nodded, “Why don’t you come along with me on my journey? It’s fun and I like it a lot, you might too.”

Li’Kalla perked up like a child, leaning close to Hermes with wide sparkly eyes, ”Really?! Can I, can I? Oh yes! We’re going to the mountains, and then, then we’ll go to Skaia and Peppercorn Ranch and maybe go for Ice Cream in that one stall in Arms’ Haven and-” Li’Kalla was just short of pressing her nose against Hermes’ when she froze and grinned warmly, ”Yay! My first trip with a friend, I’ve waited so long for this! Oh gosh, w-we’ll meet new friends, and- and see new things and be away from our duties and families!”

Most of Li’Kalla’s words were strange to Hermes, but each one made her smile grow, slightly leaning back as the Goddess got closer, “I like it! I want to try all those things!”

She reached out and poked Li’Kalla’s cheek in the same spot as before, “good to have you on board, friend.”
Li’Kalla grabbed Hermes’ hand with hers the moment she poked her and giggled, ”It’s been so long since I’ve had a friend, too!” But suddenly, the happy Goddess’ enthusiasm started dissipating and she let go of Hermes’ hand. ”Although, I still have some things to do around here… Do you think, um, we could go another time…? Yeah… Duties, you know...” Li’Kalla said with a sigh and a roll of her eyes, which upon seeing the empty plates of food, prompted her to stand up.

”I suppose I’ll clean these up. You can take whatever you want from the Manor as a souvenir, if you will. I have no use for any of these things, anyway.” And with that, Li’Kalla disappeared behind a door.

Hermes’ smile disappeared into a small frown as her new friend left. She just found out, “I don't like goodbyes.”

She let out a disappointed sigh and slouched as she walked out of the room. Slowly her posture regained it's cheery stature as she realized it wasn't a final goodbye and in time she will see her friend again. She stopped.

In front of her the sound box was playing its tune. Hermes scanned the room cheekily, souvenir! With one quick motion, and not a protest from Poppler --who had absorbed the sugar and nestled back into her hair-- Hermes swiped the box and tucked it under her arm.

“I'll come back!” She shouted as she walked happily out the door, a whistle breaking her lips.

Once outside Hermes turned to soak in the view of the manor one final time. A gentle smile broke across her face, she had found a friend. With a happy nod she suddenly burst into the sky, cleaving through the fog at an incredible speed.

---

An hour had passed and Hermes now darted through the sky, westward once more and with the endless Ashalla blue stretching beneath her in all directions. Slightly bored, she lifted the sound box to her face and began to fiddle with it.

“Uh!” She grunted as the wind knocked it out of her grasp, only for her to catch it- “ah!”

It juggled out of her hand and she swiped to grab it again. All her fingers caught was air as the box fell below her. Before she could even dash to catch up with it, it was out of sight.

“Oops,” her voice shrunk, and slowly turned back into a whistle, albeit a suspicious one as she continued her journey.

Directors Cut

”Ah-” Li’Kalla gasped and recoiled a little, before breathing deeply and settling down again, ”I’m sorry… It’s been a long time since I’ve felt… Anyone.” She said lamely and went on to caress Hermes’ cheek gently, before turning and passing her a cloth to dry herself.

Wow big baller over here assuming things.

summary

No might used.

Hermes discovers Li'Kalla's island and then her Manor So'e

She gets caught by Li'Kalla who invites her to a dinner party.

The two become friends, and promise to adventure together eventually. As a token of friendship, Li'Kalla allows Hermes to take anything she wants from So'e.

Hermes swipes the music box, only yo clumsily lose it over the ocean.

K'nell and his creations are shaping up to be something wildly different than expected, and breaking all expectation, Li'Kalla begins to self heal.

The Dreamer stared at K'nell. The two face to face in the Palace of Dreams. Hermes had recounted her journey so far, soliciting a pause from K'nell. The silence lasted for a long time, forcing Hermes to jitter in place until finally K'nells voice echoed thoughtfully.

“Perhaps there is more.”

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

FP: 0 MP: 04

K’nell sat on his throne, his knuckles bent under his chin and his face wearing a concerned look -- plus a smile. His throne pulsed beneath him, as his eyes scanned an unseeable scene. Dreams past and present ran through his mind, but one kept snagging his attention. The ballroom, the dancing, the genuine smiles. His brow furrowed, when he had saw her mind, her seemingly irreparable scars, the dream simply stitched itself together. Nothing in him could have used her memories for anything but a happy dream, his own spirit wouldn’t have allowed it, but why.

Was it pity? Doubtful. The Dream God slouched in his throne, pity was not his purpose, nor was it his purpose to entertain or aid, and yet he did and he did not know why. Perplexing. Could it have been compassion? As impossible as pity, the God shook his head. It was for him, to distract himself, to make himself feel good -- right? There could be no other explanation, he had a single purpose, no more - no less. It was not his duty to comfort, not his duty to sympathize.

“And yet I saw no other option but to do so,” K’nell spoke aloud, the Dreamweavers bouncing around him as if listening. He could not deny the subtle warmth he felt, nor could he deny how disturbed he was now. He sat for a while longer, figuring that perhaps it was an unvirtuous deed as referenced in his encounter with Aelius, “A deed done for selfish pleasure and credit, but not necessarily for altruism.”

He pointed at a particularly citrus smelling Weaver, “that’s what it was. Of course. I have work to do, a lot of work. The distraction was quaint and necessary but I have work to do.”

He stood up, “Nothing more - nothing less.” His voice echoed off the walls of the palace ballroom.

-- -- -- --

“I’ll call you… Poppler,” The Dreamer announced, a tiny cloudling dancing on her palm. She nodded to herself as the little cloud began to static and pop almost with glee, “Poppler it is.”

The small creature whizzed out of her hand and began to spin around her. The Dreamer smiled at the sight, her legs swishing through the overgrown sweet grass of the flatlands. The Afternoon Heliopolis was warm, but just dim enough to paint the scene in an orange glow, and with the red hue of the grass, giving everything a fiery look. In the distance a few stampeding tree herds pummeled across the landscape, while large beings that are best described as a cross between a rhino and a tiger chased after them, huge hippo like maws chomping at their heels.

The Dreamer had spent the better half of the day exploring Tendlepog, her winged sandals whisking her to each biome with little effort. She had found the flatlands particularly enjoyable, enough to stop and walk through.

A gentle sigh broke through her lips and she looked skyward, she wasn’t tired yet. She looked down at the nest of sweet grass around her and with a gentle flutter she felt her sandals activate, the tiny wings flapping.

“Well, Poppler,” She started, “it’s been fun, but-”

Suddenly the little cloudling popped and crackled around her before whizzing straight into her hair -- “What! Hey!”

The Dreamer shook her head but the cloudling let out a defiant “zzt!”

“Fine,” The Dreamer cracked a toothy grin, “you can come.”

Rolling her eyes the mortal suddenly dashed into the sky, her sandals turning her into not much but a blur as she quickly found the clouds above. With little direction she faced west and at blinding speeds, K’nells winged sandals propelled her forward through the sky, a tittering cloudling hiding in her hair.

“So since you got a name, maybe I should get one too?” The Dreamer asked Poppler, who did not reply, but kept on tittering and popping.

“What do you think it should be?” She pressed on, the earth below her turning into Ashalla’s blue ocean.

“Tim?”

”zzt."

“Gorius?”

”pop pop!?”

“Hermes?”

”pop pop pop!

“Hermes it is,” The Dreamer -- Hermes -- smiled wide, her grin uncannily similar to one of the gods’ if not much warmer.

summary

K'nell mulls over what feelings are and what he needs to get done.

The Dreamer finds a friend and a new name for herself, Hermes.

Nothing was spent.

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

FP: 0 MP: 05

K’nell sat on the edge of the platform that lead to Limbo. A great forest teemed around him, alive with life spilling in from the mountains, and even some from the flatlands. He could feel it in his body, great waves of energy rippling from all the corners of Galbar; his siblings were active.

Every creation, every large fit of destruction, it all rippled throughout Galbar, and K’nell knew that out there, beyond the haven of Tendlepog, was a world to explore. That was not his purpose, he knew, but it would serve as a great distraction. He knew in his soul that he could easily make a copy of himself to fulfill both his desire and his purpose, but he also knew that such a distraction would only remain interesting for so long.

No, he needed a new pair of eyes, a pair of eyes unknown to him, a pair that could visit him every sleep and bring new experiences to his palace. He needed new life. The world was wanting, the only sleeping beings that of animals and wayward gods, it needed a fresh view.

His eyes spiraled about the landscape around him, who would fulfill this new purpose, this experiment of life? What shall they look like, and what shall they be like? The images of each god flashed before K’nell, his thoughts visualizing in front of his own eyes. Crabs, birds, suits of armor, and even simple liquids, all the forms appeared and disappeared, but ultimately there was one form that was the most common among the gods. Such a form would allow the experiment to socialize, and experience such facets of life with ease. The forms of Melantha, Asceal, Phystene and others blended, their physical traits common, perhaps related. K’nell blunk and a human like female form emerged in his thoughts, one similar to the other common forms.

“So she shall be,” K’nell concluded, a female human form, whose mind shall be clear, a fresh slate for new experiences. He banished the visual back into his mind and stood up. The dirt before him shivered and slowly a cloud of minerals erupted from the earth, quickly forming bone, and then flesh. Expertly K’nell sculpted his new life, her form at the peak of physical capacity for her body plan.

There she stood, marble white and unalive. Lifeless black eyes stared forward, a small spiral marked on the center of her forehead, and long colorless hair flowing from her scalp. Suddenly a thought crossed K’nell's mind and he snapped his fingers, instantly swathes of plant fibers formed into cloth, covering his creation, his trust of the other Gods was as wanting as Galbar.

Content, K’nell held out a hand and a pile of ash fell direct into his waiting palm. Slowly K’nell blew the ash at his creation, the magical substance dissipating as it entered the lifeless body, creating a soul. K’nell blew again, but this time a tiny speck of sparkling soul left his own mouth, augmenting the new soul, and keeping it from aging.

The woman’s pupils suddenly dilated and then narrowed, her black iris’ shrinking around them. She stared wide eyed as she took her first overeager breath. Her heart pounded as blood rushed to every portion of her body, and her chest heaved as her lungs fluttered wildly. Seconds flew by before her body stabilized, her breathing being reduced to a quiet whisper. Her eyes relaxed and then at that time she finally spoke.

“What is my purpose?”

The god's smile grew ever so slightly, his voice echoing around the pair, “to live.”

“How?” She furrowed her brow.

“By experiencing. Go, go and experience life, experience Galbar.”

The woman nodded, her face stretched with worry, her mind knowing only K’nell, “will I be alone?”

“No,” K’nells voice swirled, it’s inflection grainy, “every so often you will grow tired, though you may not need to eat, nor drink, you shall sleep. When you do, we will be united and you will bring all your new experiences home with you. You shall wake up, to live once again, and in due time we will meet again once more.”

The woman smiled in relief, “then I will go live, now.”

“Galbar is large,” K’nell advised, “you will need these.”

With a flick of his wrist a pair of winged sandals appeared in his hands, “with these you will not be hindered by speed nor ocean nor land.”

The woman took the sandals gingerly from her God. She plopped onto the forest floor and began to fasten them to her feet, “where should I go first?”

K’nell was silent for a while, “wherever you desire.”

She looked up at him, “well, what should I do when I get there?”

“Anything you like,” K’nell turned to climb the platform of Limbo.

“Oh,” The woman nodded, attempting to understand.

K’nell spun to meet the woman once more, “you are alive, you are the first mortal dreamer, you are the Dreamer. Go. Experience, and your purpose shall be fulfilled.”

The Dreamer nodded enthusiastically, “then I will!”

“And I will see you come your first sleep,” K’nell’s smile strained and with a suddenly flash, he was gone. The Dreamer jumped backwards completely surprised, tripping and falling. Scrambling, she crawled up to the platform of Limbo and peaked over the edge, K’nell was gone. She turned and sat, her back leaning against the platform. The sounds of the forest closed in on her, and between the popping of cloudlings and the howls of marsupials, she took deep breaths. Her eyes scanned the trees in wonder, the world was hers to explore.

Summary

The Winged Sandals, 1MP
No might spent on The Dreamer (thanks Mutton!)

0 FP 4 MP remaining.

A new challenger approaches!

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

FP: 6 MP: 05

Bilbies hopped in through the sweet grass as K’nell made his way out. Having spent the rest of his time in the flatlands creating large herbivores to chase down and snatch the running trees, and tiny marsupials to amuse him, he had grown bored once more. And so, he began his walk back to Limbo.

As he walked, the evening heliopolis glistened off the shifting mountains, each landmark coming closer and closer as the flatlands faded away behind him, until eventually he found himself walking up the slope of one of his migrant mountains. All around him life flourished, be it insect or fungi, the God was walking in a brilliant forest of mushrooms.

Content with the scene he quickly added quolls and numbats to the forest, he even altered one species of the grand mushroom trees so that it would carry a strange fruit that chimed in the wind. His eversmile grew as he ran his fingers down the fungal stocks of one of the mushroom trees, how interesting .

A new inspiration hit the God and with it in mind he continued his journey, stopping here and there to admire the many different moths and butterflies. Now and again he would point his finger, and a new species would appear. First a flowering of ripe yellow buds, brimming with nectar but before the insects could have their fill, suddenly there appeared the honey possum. K’nell was amused.

ZAP! The tiniest creation of K’nell’s so far suddenly poofed into existence as he passed a low crowned mushroom and scurrying from the puff of creation was a monito del monte, eyes big and black just like K’nells.

The amused God continued his almost dancing trek through the mushroom mountains, enjoying himself so much that by time he found his way to the valley of Limbo, he found himself nearly depleted, a trail of new species behind him, both plant and animal, and a few of both! In particular he was proud of a strange squirrel type best that seemed to change color with its surroundings, and of course the bizarre flying sphagnum moss. He shook his head, his interesting journey left him nearly depleted, but not quite.

As he stood before Limbo, the mountains circling the empty valley, the God reached inside himself for the last remaining vestiges of the day. All at once there was a great flash and a mighty rumble. In the span of seconds, trees of cyprus and oak split the ground and rapidly flourished into ancient growth. The woods gnarled and twisted around Limbo, and before long a mighty forests engulfed the valley, leaving a new canvas for the ever creating God.

summary

2 fp spent on small ecosystems, aka augmenting the mushroom forests
4 fp spent on the Limbo Valley Forest

K’nell enjoys himself for once! He also seems to have a thing for Metatherians