...Wise beyond words, beyond human years knowledgeable, the Most Beneficent - who is Uhulmikown - walked the ways of sun and moon and whispered in the darkness and whispered in the light for forty days and forty nights. In his heart was no despair, though they who were most beloved to him were in the grasp of the Enemy. Faithful and seeing, in his certainty strengthened, of his victory sure, he who is the Most Beneficent walked the forty moons and forty suns until, hailing the Northerly Gale, there manifested before him a host ten hundred strong.
Ask not: 'wherefrom didst they emerge?' Do not questioning say: 'what foulest magick, from what dark abyss of the deathlands, what scorpion-born horrors were they?' Do not exhort or catechise with such empty words as: 'on horseback were they - or horsemen were they - or was it the great black bull or that of the great one horn that was their steed? Or horror greater, was it the wing-eared greyness of the great snake nose?' Aye, ask not - know only that the Darkness Beyond Sight trembled and shimmered when they came. Know that the Northerly Gale carried them. Know that He, who is Eokihiltchin, who is the great progenitor and father, and She, who is Bihmat-Iyan-'Uk, who is the great Fog-Serpent of the Blue Eyes, who is the chaos of the sea and the great terror, who is the great deliverer and mother, blessed and ordained them and built them from might and struck them from stone and made their voices of thunder and the glint of their eyes of lightning.
'Hail!' Spoke the Most Beneficent, and their counter-greeting was the grating of the heavens against the cliff of the world. And under the twin-stars of the Holy Month When No Blood Must Be Shed were that hallowed host to greet with death Giwabi the King and with the crushing fist of abolishment salute Giwabi the Kingdom, and were they to hail with the voice of eternal forgetting the treachery that is Giwabi the GodKing. Thus shall it be written after a time in the Tablets of 'Amkula Bujunda. ...
Identity: Lady of the Great Sullied Court, the Fyghfolk Queen, Red Fern, Red Fury, the Queen of Smoke and Sighs.Artistic Depiction.
Type: Rogue - Fygh (pr. Fee or Fay or Fie)
Persona: Red Fury is rather easy to anger and takes insult with equal ease - but she does not show it so easily. Sooner or later, by hook or by crook, those who earn her ire ultimately pay. Back when there were one hundred and sixty-three Fygh Courts across the world, she was the most important and most powerful. Now there is only one Court and she its sole Queen. There is therefore no space for doubt: she is the most important and most powerful - and all the Fygh who come before her know to know it. Is she feared? Naturally. But is she also adored? Why, who could doubt it? Feared, adored, and blindly obeyed by all Fyghfolk, such is the power of the Fyghfolk Queen.
Powers: But beyond the obedience of her subjects, Red Fury has another great power. It is one that makes her truly worthy of her place at the top. She is the last of Fyghkind's ancient aristocracy - an aristocracy known for the great magicks and formidable powers they could once bring to bear. While all Fygh are beings of magic and so have certain powers - whether it is the nature-warping powers of dryads or the death-bringing gaze of barghests - Red Fury can manipulate and wield the magic that flows through existence with the mere power of her voice. She can feel where magic is concentrated, can whisper to it until it does her bidding, and so achieve great magickal feats the likes of which were long thought to have perished from the world. By the power of her magicks are men turned to stone, princes into frogs, princesses into ogres. By it are cities brought into eternal sleep and others lost forever in a world of illusions. By her potions are queens made to fall in love with donkeys and are hatreds planted in the small imperfections and cracks that line any true love. Poisoned apples, tightening corsets, and deadly combs are only a few of the magickal items she can bring forth into the world by the power of her words. It is not understood how her powers work - even she may not truly know - but speech is the key to her powers. If she is unable to speak, then she is near enough powerless. Her powers, like all magic, are also rather slow. It takes time to whisper poison into an apple or complete a curse to turn a man into a donkey.
Race: Fygh exhibit great diversity. Some take on the appearance of human children while others appear barely distinct from monsters, and others yet take on plant-, animal-, or water-like features. The great majority are very small in size, though certain types tend to be fairly large - an example is the barghest, which takes on the form of an enormous shaggy black dog and is generally a portent of doom to all who see it (and often attacks and kills lone travellers). Some Fygh may have tails, wings, or more than two arms or none (if, for instance, wings replace their arms). Whether they have wings does not dictate whether a Fygh can fly - that is more often dictated by the type of Fygh it is.
While Fygh may appear to be male or female, they do not reproduce or procreate physically and so these appearances are merely aesthetic. Some may exhibit human-like sapience, while others may appear like monstrous creatures that cannot be reasoned with by non-Fygh. Being creatures of pure magic the Fygh do not have a fixed lifespan - so long as they have a source of magic, they are effectively immortal.
The destruction of magic is therefore lethal to Fygh. If it is possible to trap one and deny it of magic for long enough then it will inevitably perish. Another sure way to destroy a Fygh is with iron or steel implements as these are devoid of magic and immediately void whatever they touch of magic. Different Fygh will also have different weaknesses - some may not be able to cross running water, some may not be able to cross a salt perimetre, others yet may perish at the sound of their true name, and much else.
Myth: 'The Fygh are old magic - deep and dark and hidden within the stuff the world is made of. It is said we are even older than the Black God, that in the twilight of time and creation itself there we were, eyes wide and silent and knowing. Aye, we are the oldest magic, pure and distilled and alive.
'When the Black God called upon us it was not out of any great love or loyalty for him that we rallied to his banner, but out of enmity to Man. Ah, Man! That newborn race who thought to tame the wilds and flatten the earth and bore through the mountains and dictate the course of the rivers - where they would flow and where they will not, when they will flood and when they shall not. That newborn race that casually went about the business of exterminating Fygh and magic alike. Well, that race had to be made to perish.
'Divided then into our one hundred and sixty-three Courts, we could not quite agree on this course of action. Red Fern, however, then the Queen of Smoke and Sighs, knew then with an insight all others lacked that there could be no other course. There was no place for magic and the Fygh in a world in that Man continued to occupy.
'We fought one another then - on one side those 'Unsullied' who would slay themselves that Man may live and that Man may slaughter all, and the rest of us 'Sullied' who would rid the world of Man's cancer and let the wilds and all the chaotic beauties of magic loose. The Black God fell, the 'Unsullied' cheered as they cast Red Fern and us, their Sullied brethren, into the Fade...
'And we heard their cheers for a while there in that prison of ours, but then in time they cheered no more. Empty are the halls of the 'Unsullied' today. The echoes of their laughter are heard only in the halls of memory - our memory. For we remember. And though they were fools, yet were they our kin. The Fade grows thin now, and Red Fern - why, Red Fury! - has for a long time whispered her curses and promises of vengeance into the fabric of the world. We who are Sealed - who were lambasted as 'Sullied' - stir. We rise. We come.
'The Black God is dead, but we remain - and by our hand alone will be the final abolition of Man.'
Identity: Lady of the Great Sullied Court, the Fyghfolk Queen, Red Fern, Red Fury, the Queen of Smoke and Sighs.Artistic Depiction.
Type: Scion - Fygh (pr. Fee or Fay or Fie)
Persona: Red Fury is rather easy to anger and takes insult with equal ease - but she does not show it so easily. Sooner or later, by hook or by crook, those who earn her ire ultimately pay. Back when there were one hundred and sixty-three Fygh Courts across the world, she was the most important and most powerful. Now there is only one Court and she its sole Queen. There is therefore no space for doubt: she is the most important and most powerful - and all the Fygh who come before her know to know it. Is she feared? Naturally. But is she also adored? Why, who could doubt it? Feared, adored, and blindly obeyed by all Fyghfolk, such is the power of the Fyghfolk Queen.
Powers: But beyond the obedience of her subjects, Red Fury has another great power. It is one that makes her truly worthy of her place at the top. She is the last of Fyghkind's ancient aristocracy - an aristocracy known for the great magicks and formidable powers they could once bring to bear. While all Fygh are beings of magic and so have certain powers - whether it is the nature-warping powers of dryads or the death-bringing gaze of barghests - Red Fury can manipulate and wield the magic that flows through existence with the mere power of her voice. She can feel where magic is concentrated, can whisper to it until it does her bidding, and so achieve great magickal feats the likes of which were long thought to have perished from the world. By the power of her magicks are men turned to stone, princes into frogs, princesses into ogres. By it are cities brought into eternal sleep and others lost forever in a world of illusions. By her potions are queens made to fall in love with donkeys and are hatreds planted in the small imperfections and cracks that line any true love. Poisoned apples, tightening corsets, and deadly combs are only a few of the magickal items she can bring forth into the world by the power of her words. It is not understood how her powers work - even she may not truly know - but speech is the key to her powers. If she is unable to speak, then she is near enough powerless. Her powers, like all magic, are also rather slow. It takes time to whisper poison into an apple or complete a curse to turn a man into a donkey.
Race: Fygh exhibit great diversity. Some take on the appearance of human children while others appear barely distinct from monsters, and others yet take on plant-, animal-, or water-like features. The great majority are very small in size, though certain types tend to be fairly large - an example is the barghest, which takes on the form of an enormous shaggy black dog and is generally a portent of doom to all who see it (and often attacks and kills lone travellers). Some Fygh may have tails, wings, or more than two arms or none (if, for instance, wings replace their arms). Whether they have wings does not dictate whether a Fygh can fly - that is more often dictated by the type of Fygh it is.
While Fygh may appear to be male or female, they do not reproduce or procreate physically and so these appearances are merely aesthetic. Some may exhibit human-like sapience, while others may appear like monstrous creatures that cannot be reasoned with by non-Fygh. Being creatures of pure magic the Fygh do not have a fixed lifespan - so long as they have a source of magic, they are effectively immortal.
The destruction of magic is therefore lethal to Fygh. If it is possible to trap one and deny it of magic for long enough then it will inevitably perish. Another sure way to destroy a Fygh is with iron or steel implements as these are devoid of magic and immediately void whatever they touch of magic. Different Fygh will also have different weaknesses - some may not be able to cross running water, some may not be able to cross a salt perimetre, others yet may perish at the sound of their true name, and much else.
Myth: 'The Fygh are old magic - deep and dark and hidden within the stuff the world is made of. It is said we are even older than the Black God, that in the twilight of time and creation itself there we were, eyes wide and silent and knowing. Aye, we are the oldest magic, pure and distilled and alive.
'When the Black God called upon us it was not out of any great love or loyalty for him that we rallied to his banner, but out of enmity to Man. Ah, Man! That newborn race who thought to tame the wilds and flatten the earth and bore through the mountains and dictate the course of the rivers - where they would flow and where they will not, when they will flood and when they shall not. That newborn race that casually went about the business of exterminating Fygh and magic alike. Well, that race had to be made to perish.
'Divided then into our one hundred and sixty-three Courts, we could not quite agree on this course of action. Red Fern, however, then the Queen of Smoke and Sighs, knew then with an insight all others lacked that there could be no other course. There was no place for magic and the Fygh in a world in that Man continued to occupy.
'We fought one another then - on one side those 'Unsullied' who would slay themselves that Man may live and that Man may slaughter all, and the rest of us 'Sullied' who would rid the world of Man's cancer and let the wilds and all the chaotic beauties of magic loose. The Black God fell, the 'Unsullied' cheered as they cast Red Fern and us, their Sullied brethren, into the Fade...
'And we heard their cheers for a while there in that prison of ours, but then in time they cheered no more. Empty are the halls of the 'Unsullied' today. The echoes of their laughter are heard only in the halls of memory - our memory. For we remember. And though they were fools, yet were they our kin. The Fade grows thin now, and Red Fern - why, Red Fury! - has for a long time whispered her curses and promises of vengeance into the fabric of the world. We who are Sealed - who were lambasted as 'Sullied' - stir. We rise. We come.
'The Black God is dead, but we remain - and by our hand alone will be the final abolition of Man.'
Identity: Lady of the Great Sullied Court, Red Fern, Red Fury, the Queen of Smoke and Sighs.Artistic Depiction.
Type: Scion
Myth: The Fae are old magic - deep and dark and hidden within the stuff the world is made of. It is said they are even older than the Black God, that in the twilight of time and creation itself - there they were, eyes wide and silent and knowing. Perhaps they are the very essence of magic - they are not things of flesh after all and they are not things of Nature - with which in time they became synonymous in the eyes of all other beings. No, they are old magic, pure and distilled and alive.
When the Black God called upon them it was not out of any great love or loyalty for him that they rallied to his banner, but out of enmity to Man. Ah, Man! That newborn race who thought to tame the wilds and flatten the earth and bore through the mountains and dictate the course of the rivers - where they would flow and where they will not, when they will flood and when they shall not. That newborn race that casually went about the business of exterminating Fae and magic alike. Well, that race had to be made to perish.
The Fae, divided then into their one hundred and sixty-three Courts, had not been quite agreed on this course of action, but Red Fern, then the Queen of Smoke and Sighs, had known then with an insight all others lacked that there could be no other course. There was no place for magic and the Fae in a world in which Man continued to be. The Fae fought one another then - those 'Unsullied' who would slay themselves that Man may live and slaughter all, and those 'Sullied' that would rid the world of that cancer and let the wilds and all the chaotic beauties of magic loose. The Black God fell, the Unsullied cheered as they cast Red Fern and their Sullied brethren into the Fade...
And then they cheered no more. Empty are the halls of the Unsullied today. The echoes of laughter are only heard in the halls of memory - our memory. For we remember. And though they were fools, yet were they our kin. The Fade grows thin now, and Red Fern - why, Red Fury! - has for a long time whispered her curses and promises of vengeance into the fabric of the world. We who are Sealed - who were lambasted as Sullied - stir. We rise. We come. The Black God is dead, but we remain - and by our hand alone will be the final abolition of Man.
I have asked this question before and get ignored, I was very proud of my writing as I improved as I was apart of Mk 1 (or 2). Please could someone give me an answer? I'd really appreciate it, thanks.
This is the last post in which Kanros ever featured. The RP was rebooted shortly after and his story did not progress beyond that.
Then you've come to the right place. In this game you will play a newborn god summoned into a world that has just been completely destroyed. Nothing remains - except two mighty primordial beings known simply as Invictus and Fate. Alongside other gods, with the blessing of these two mighty beings, you will bring life to planet Galbar.
It will not be a simple task for Galbar is nothing but a dead rock. You will create seas, raise continents and mountains, carve out rivers and plant endless forests. And you will also create life, and from that life intelligent beings who will form up into societies, tribes, and nations. You will give them great boons and artifiacts and teach them great magics and technologies, and you may also choose to inflict curses and suffering upon them. The world is your oyster and you will make of it as you please.
In this game you will play a god with a chosen Domain - this is an aspect of reality governed by your character. For instance, a god with the Fire Domain has complete power over Fire. A god with the Death Domain is lord over Death. A god with the Domain of Weather has more power than any other god over that. As the game progresses, you will be able to amass additional Domains. The main advantage of a Domain is that you can carry out all sorts of things in relation to it that would otherwise need Might.
Might is the unit of Divine power, and you will get a set amount to spend every Turn. This can be spent on anything at all, there is no limit to what you can do - create suns, moons, stars, weather patterns, mountains, life, heroes, holy orders, monuments and whatever else. There will be a catalogue of Divine Actions alongside how much Might they cost.
The game will be split into Turns. Every Turn your deity will get 6 Might Points to spend either on furthering their power or on advancing their creations.
So, what will you do? Will you be the creator and guardian of civilisation? Will you be the sower of sin and debauchery? Will you be the harbinger of death and destruction? Will you bring chaos or demand order? Will you call to balance or will you delight in disharmony? Will you raise the banners of war or will you reign over peace?
Express your interest and let's find out.
Divine Powers and Might Catalogue
Environmental Manipulation: Divines can raise a small islands at no cost, and can also control the weather, landscape, and other physical phenomena in their vicinity using only their minds. They may raise rocks and water from the ground, purify or mix materials, extract a particular element out the ground, or compress, melt, ignite or freeze something.
Form: Divines can take on any shape or form they wish, and can even become invisible. Those with Domains related to these, such as Deception or Trickery for instance, are naturally more proficient at this.
Immortality: Divines are ageless and nigh unkillable. They cannot be harmed by normal weapons or magic. A god's weakness is usually particular to that individual god and a secret hidden with the utmost care and vigilance. If they are to die, it must be either by suicide or by the direct efforts of a very powerful god or a group of gods. Mortal efforts could at best cause superficial harm to a god, and more often have no effect.
Strength: Divines wield great martial power and resilience, and this is lesser or greater depending on the god. Most deities make terrifying opponents for all but other deities. Normal weapons are generally ineffective against then, as are low-level magics. They are immensely powerful, capable of lifting objects larger than them, and are unaffected by fatigue. They are able to shrug off mundane threats and perform impressive feats such as smashing large boulders with ease.
Regeneration: While harming a god is extremely difficult, if harm does come to one they possess the ability to almost instantaneously regenerate.
Acclimitisation: There is no place where a deity cannot survive. A god is unharmed by mundane environmental hazards such as extreme temperatures, extreme pressure, poisons, or falling. A god does not require food, air, drink, or sleep to survive.
Perception: A deity has the capability of, at any time, knowing all things within their vicinity, including thoughts, feelings, and - unless concealed - whether other gods are present. They can see in great detail in every direction, are able to see even in the true darkness of deep space, and can observe aspects such as heat, magnetic fields, or souls. They can hear as far as they can see, are able to pinpoint the direction of sounds and are able to simultaneously understand all speakers in a large crowd.
Private Planes: Any deity can create its own private plane of existence without spending Might. This can act as a private retreat or a manner to escape from other gods. These generally cannot be located by other gods unless the god in question allows others to find it, though those gods whose Domain involves dimensions or space/time warps may be able to find such planes. These planes are very small.
Travel: A god can travel wherever they wish, however they wish, at speeds incomprehensible to other creatures. They can fly, run at high speeds, breathe under or walk on water, and teleport anywhere instantly. Some gods may have preferences for particular modes of travel and those with relevant Domains may be better at utilising certain modes than other gods.
Divine Trails and Presence: A god's essence leaves a mark, or a trail, wherever they go and in whatever they create. This trail, unless concealed, can be detected and tracked by other gods. A god has the ability to cover their presence or block the senses of another god to it, although gods whose Domains relate to Trickery, Deception or things of that nature would be more skilful at this than others. The ability to cover Divine Presence can be improved with Might.
Creation: Divines are able to create things from nothing and shift them with ease. On a very small scale, this does not drain their energy at all. For instance, they can create a clump of metal and heat the metal to melt it, they can shape clay and carve stone with their touch, they can cause seeds to grow rapidly by merely focusing on them. A god can also create tiny creatures without magical properties, like ants, beetles, and mice, without using any Might. These can reproduce, survive, and thrive. Finally, a god may modify existing life-forms in a manner befitting their Domains. Such modifications typically affect a small proportion of the species’ population and does not cost Might.
Magic: Divines are naturally proficient in magic, or some equivalent thereof, with which they can perform what mortals would see as miracles and displays of tremendous power. This may not be conventional magic - they may have superhuman mechanical expertise or be able to command vast hordes of smaller spirits, or simply be so able of body that they can work divine wonders by hand.
Communication: Divines can understand and are fluent in all languages, including those of wild animals, and can even communicate with inanimate objects. Gods can communicate telepathically with beings they can sense or with whom they are familiar. Gods may also send messages to other gods across any distance.
Mind Reading: A god can read the thoughts and memories of mortal creatures within their vicinity. A god may also read the mind of any creation inside the god's Personal Plane. If a creation prays to a god, that god can hear that prayer and knows that creation's location. Gods have full access to the minds of any creation that prays to them, hearing its words and thoughts, and being able to actively read its memories.
Aura: Divines exude a supernatural aura that inspires, frightens, calms or generally affects nearby life. An aura may have additional effects depending on a god’s Domains and can also be further enhanced by using Might.
1 Might: Create a Hero. These are exceptionally powerful individuals among your creations whose powers and skills are renowned and well beyond the capabilities of normal members of their species. Those who gain such an honour may, for example, receive agelessness, immunity to diseases, superhuman resilience, or any other powers decided upon by the god.
1 Might: Form a Holy Order. A holy order is a collection of people treated as one hero. A god may decree a band of mortals to organise under a cause, philosophy, or similar motivation in that deity's name. These groups are generally specialised and skilled - if you want to create the Jedi, the Knights Templar, or the Bardic Band of Much Barding, this is your port of call.
1 Might: Create a large, lifeless landmass, mountain range, or sea.
2 Might: Create a small ecosystem of many species, which can fill a region such as a river, valley, mountain, small island, lake, or a small part of a sea or ocean (e.g. a small coral reef).
3 Might: Create a large ecosystem of innumerable species, which can fill a large geographic region such as a whole mountain range, an archipelago, a desert, a whole sea or a significant part of an ocean.
2 Might: Create sizeable celestial bodies such as stars and moons.
1-3 Might: Create a Beast of Phenomenal Power (e.g. the Kraken, the Thunder Bird, Jormungandr). The more extraordinary abilities they possess, the higher the cost.
1-3 Might: Create an Extraordinary non-Sapient Species (e.g. Manticores, Dragons, Lovecraftian Horrors). The more extraordinary abilities they possess, the higher the cost.
2-4 Might: Create a Sapient Species (e.g. Humans, Elves, Angels, Demons, Giants). The more extraordinary abilities they possess, the higher the cost.
1-3 Might: Create an Artifact. This is an item that affords its owner any of a plethora of abilities - a sword that cuts stone, a medallion that grants the owner invisibility, and so on. If multiple gods work together to create an Artifact, each can contribute up to 3 Might. This means the most powerful Artifacts are those created by the combined efforts of several gods. Very powerful Artifacts can be dangerous even for gods. Artifacts can be lost, stolen, destroyed, or traded.
1-3 Might: Create a Monument. Similar to Artifacts but generally in the form of a large physical structure that cannot be handed around. It can be a temple, for instance, or a tower, or a formation of menhirs. As with Artifacts, multiple gods can contribute to a Monument. A Monument is more powerful than an Artifact of the same MP value, though this advantage is offset by their disadvantages in being largely immobile and possibly harder to defend. Monuments can be destroyed.
1-3 Might: Bless or Curse. This is the sign of a deity's favour or disfavour and can affect entire populations, particular families and bloodlines, or specific individuals. A blessing can be any kind of boon, such as a greater birth rate, more bountiful harvests, or a blessing of greater strength or health. Curses are the reverse and can be rather tame such as a rain of frogs to more sinister things - such as causing a people's nightmares to come alive at night or turning an individual to stone. More powerful blessings and curses cost greater Might. These can be neutralised by the god who cast them at no cost, or can be counteracted by another god with a counter-blessing or counter-curse of the same cost.
1 Might: Confer a single extraordinary or powerful ability upon a species or set of people (e.g. Wings, Gills, Magic Talent).
1 Might: Teach People an Idea or Technology.
3 Might: Create a Gateway. You can use this action to create a permanent connection between Galbar and your Personal Plane. This connection can take virtually any form, from a discrete portal to a broad region or even something more abstract such as an elaborate ritual. The area around Gateways is affected and modified by energies from the Personal Plane they lead to - for instance, the area around a Gateway leading to your Personal Plane of Death may contain deposits of negative energy that wreak unknown mutations on those passing by the Gateway or through it.
2 Might: Create a Portal. This is a permanent connection between two locations on Galbar, allowing anyone to pass instantaneously from one to the other. The portal can be a physical doorway or can be a ritual that must be done or words spoken in a particular location, or anything else.
1-3 Might: Grant or Acquire an Ability. If you wish to further enhance your god's roster of abilities, you can expend Might to do so. You can spend Might to, for instance, increase your god's ability to perceive other gods' trails or hide their own. You can also grant Heroes or mortals unique abilities.
1+ Might: Perform some Other Divine Feat. You can expend Might to perform incredible actions beyond your innate abilities, such as hurling mighty fireballs, putting a city to sleep, shrugging off a devastating blow, or punching someone really hard. The more Might spent on an action, the more potent it is. Typically a Domain will provide you with a wide set of divine feats you can perform for free, and Artifacts and Monuments provide more potent ongoing/reusable abilities.
General Rules and Regulations
Tʜᴇ Gᴏʟᴅᴇɴ Rᴜʟᴇ: Tʜᴏᴜ Sʜᴀʟᴛ Nᴏᴛ Gᴏᴅᴍᴏᴅ
It's funny 'cause you're a god and all some people think that this means normal RPing rules don't apply. But they do. You cannot take control of another player's characters.
Before significantly influencing someone else’s creations, especially if it is going to be in a destructive way, give them some fair warning OOC so that potential objections can be made ahead of time and plans can be shifted. Ideally, conflicts between two gods that lead to destruction or harm of one god or its possessions will be written with the consent of both players, but if you think that somebody is being unreasonable then let the GMs know.
Please give us forewarning on the OOC if circumstances dictate that you will become inactive in the RP for a time. I’m sure we’ve all seen the phenomena of people simply vanishing; it’s frustrating and leaves work where the others have to pick up the narrative pieces. Failure to follow this rule can potentially lead to your god being deposed IC; the Architect won’t look kindly upon squatters that sit around in his realm without contributing to Galbar’s development or fulfilling their divine duties.
The above commandments are most important. Almost every other conduct is to fall under the domain of common sense and the RPGuild rules, with the understanding that our goal is to collaboratively create cool narratives and have fun. Be considerate to one another and facilitate storytelling. If there are any concerns or clarifications required, the GMs are always happy to help.
Application:
[hider=Name or Nickname] [b]Name:[/b] To know your god, name your god.
[b]Alignment:[/b] Just to get a general idea of how your god might interact with others, take a guess at where they might fall on an [url=easydamus.com/alignmenttest.html]alig… chart[/url].
[b]Personality:[/b] The way they see themselves. The way they present themselves to others.
[b]Goals:[/b] What do they intend to do with their power? What will they fight for, ally for, sacrifice for? There's no need to plan too far ahead, but try to think of at least one example of an action they would take to achieve their goals.
[b]Appearance:[/b] Text description first, optional [u]link[/u] to an image second. You can specify preferred forms and what forms they adopt in particular circumstances.
[b]Domain:[/b] E.g. Fire. Give us some idea of what this means. What specific powers does it entail?
[b]Musical Theme:[/b] Let's add some spice.[/hider]
Name: Hyatonta-Akninot-Mihtut.
Domain: Life. Life is the condition that distinguishes things like animals and plants from inorganic matter, including the capacity for growth, reproduction, functional activity, and continual change preceding death. The powers of a Life Domain enable the god in question to freely create things that have the quality of life, unlimited in this regard by anything short of its imagination. Power over Life also includes the capacity to deny a creature of life or to strip a particular place of it. Life is different from health - something can be alive but in extremely poor health - though when it comes to ailing eco-systems a god of Life may well be able to restore them to health by restoring key life forms and the such.
Personality: Just wants to have a bit o' fun, really. Extraordinarily affable and amiable, quite social and gets along with pretty much anyone - rarely anything can get her riled up or truly insulted though she may well pretend it has if the whimsy takes her. No dispute is ever truly personal - 'don't get riled up, it's just a bit o' fun'.
Goals: Being a Life god, she will want to create life and watch the world bloom. She will look down on any attempts by others to create life and may well launch a crusade against such sacrilege if the whimsy takes her. She will also, for no clear or logical reason, take to possessing random humans, who will go on living without realising they are the hosts of a god. She will fight and ally and plot and scheme with others for the fun of it, and will stop the moment it bores her - no alliance or contract is sacred as far as she is concerned.
Appearance: Tonta usually takes on a wraith-like black and grey form boasting a bark face akin to a primitive wooden mask with two dark holes for eyes. It is broadly humanoid. See an image here.
Both Rinaas and Ganisundur heard it happen - a callous deathsong, as careless as it was thoughtless - and it caused them both to pause. The songstress frowned deeply, her aged beauty gaining a severity of aspect rarely witnessed by her disciples. They had walked then for many days southward until the mountains reared up before them like cliffs from horizon to horizone. We stand here, ye humble things / No further may you walk / So burrow deep or fly on wings / Like earthworms be, or hawks. They were silent as they approached, and Sinhuldo was not happy.
"We are far from home, adi, and there are all kinds of strange creatures here near the mountains." And so Sonhuldo was the first to turn back. They continued through the mountains, follow trails and pathways until they came to a great cavern. Many elves milled around in the shade. They turned their heads towards Fihnoom with distaste. Humelves were not well liked round here. Rinaas spoke with them, asking about routes south.
"Ah, south is it. Have a nose for death and an ear for noise have ye?" One asked in barely legible higher azumai. Rinaas surprised them all by responding in a different tongue, and the elves relaxed and conversed with her for a few minutes.
"They have a caravan heading south, beneath the mountains. We can join it." She told her remaining three disciples.
"We are simply walking, Girgaah. Walking and listening. How can you sing if you don't look and listen?"
"Ah, adi, I had rather look at beautiful dancing forms and listen to sweet nothings." He complained.
"Then go do that." Was her simple response, and she turned away followed one of the elves into the cave and tunnels beyond. Ganisundur followed wordlessly and without hesitation, and Biruldaan followed nonchalantly. Fihnoom glanced to Girgaah, who frowned, pursed his lips, then backed away and turned his back on it all. The humelven woman looked into the darkness of the cave, sighed, then followed after the songstress and the two other disciples.
"To walk in darkness is not like walking in the night." The songstress commented lowly, and no one who heard her understood. It was silent, speech was brief and fleeting. Ropes were important, and touch. Ganisundur remained close to Rinaas, but they were not of those who needed ropes or gentle touches to see one another.
When they emerged into the twilight of a new day, the land the looked upon did not look so different from the one they had left behind. But it sounded different. The deathsong was louder, clearer, taunting and callous. It was not like any other deathsong - those usually sang with purpose, some were triumphant and some filled with honour. Some had within them the sadness of the killer and the killed. But there was none of that here. Rinaas swallowed and trembled, and Ganisundur placed a hand on her shoulder. She smiled at him and nodded wordlessly. Then she walked on ahead, and her three remaining disciples followed.
Rinaas and Ganisundur heard the deathsong from Gibbou's nuclear attack and they journey to Welkoland via an underground trade route.
+2 Prestige to Rinaas (~3,500 characters). 19 total.
War, as any wandering ascetic knew, did not give rise to truly great cities. Those only came about during periods of peace, and when they did were the herald of decadence and decline. The great Ramshid Birsas shib Hur had taught his three sons this: “Chaos forges strong Ramshids, and strong Ramshids create prosperity. Prosperity forges weak Ramshids, and weak Ramshids reign over chaos.”
The fortified city of Kolcara was not much of a city -- not yet, at least. If the gods were good and Ramshid Dagran - or Warprince Dagran, as the foes who denied his great claim preferred to call him - was given just another ten or fifteen cycles of life, he would just have time to cast down the vultures claiming his throne and bring his dreams of Kolcara to fruition. But of course, nothing in life was certain. He was beginning to feel the toll of his age, having walked the land for fifty-some cycles and ruled in his own right for nearly half as long. And though he was a clever man, a schemer by all accounts, he could not know whether his cause would triumph at the end of this bloodletting that tore at the land he loved. He could only trust in the righteousness of his cause and fight to bring about better days, to build the Kolcara of his dreams.
Yes, in his dreams it was a grand and beautiful city, with long straight roads, temples crowning every hill along the riverbanks with spires that towered over the city and came just shy of the grand heights of his own castle in the heart of it all. He foresaw great walls also, storehouses, and cisterns enough to withstand drought and siege and hardship for all time. It was Sahruqar come again, only a thousand times as grand, in Dagran’s dreams. But of course, for now in reality it was only a glorified castle surrounded by muddied drilling fields, a dry moat, a few watchtowers, and many clusters of hovels that housed the builders and other folk unworthy of dwelling within the fortress at the heart of Kolcara. Still, the plans were there and when Dagran closed his eyes he could see the roads, wide and paved with white stones that gleamed in the sun like dew upon morning grass.
Still, for its humble beginnings, Kolcara was already Dagran’s seat of power. It lay in a strategic and defensible position in the center of his realm, at the convergence of the river Muniw with the Barjuhrim, which flowed south until it met the mighty Juhmar. This placed it a good ways away from the northern border where even now the fires of the bloodletting had found new kindling and caught once more. But it would not be long before his levies were assembled and readied to march north. This season could very well witness the final defeat and humiliation of Arkhus, if the seeds that he had sown would sprout and bear fruit. He had been planning this campaign for a long time, picking the grounds where he would take battle just as meticulously as he had planned out the paths and walls of his future city.
Not all approved of his plans and genius, however. He could feel their jealousy and fear. They knew, when they gazed into his obsidian eyes, that they stood before one who was to them as Mount Qaywandar was to other mountains. It was just such an envious gaze that he felt boring into his back at that very moment, and he turned to find the old ramtej approaching. The ancient man’s silver hair and beard were well-oiled and combed, bedecked with rings of silver and gold, and likewise his arms and chest. A saffron sarong, with gilded and intricately patterned trimmings, covered him from hip to ankle and he had a staff of gold and silver in his right hand. Precious jewels adorned the top, as did golden hoops and a golden figurine of the tri-faced Serene Lord, seated with all his eyes closed.
He came to a stop beside the ramshid and looked out from the high balcony across the great castle and to the encampments beyond. “What was it, my ramshid, that your father used to say? About chaos and strong ramshids.”
The ramshid sniffed and wondered for a moment just what the ramtej’s intent was, but he indulged the question. “He would speak of the chaos and great bloodlettings of old that had forged hard men, and of how those great men and their strong ramshids would bring about good days. And then he would promise that good days always bring about a weaker breed of men that kneel before indulgent ramshids, and then those men finally bring bad times. The bloodletting is renewed, and the cycle restarts then, as it always has and always will.”
“Indeed, for your father was a wise man and understood men, knew what moved their hearts and knew that their hearts have a proclivity towards vice. But he understood this also: that bad times are unvirtuous times, and that such proliferation of vice causes those of pure natures to become inclined towards virtue; the ugliness of vice and the ugliness it causes, this great imbalance in the world, drives them towards virtue. These strong virtuous ramshids create good days, for their virtue brings about the cosmic balance vital to any goodness.”
The old ramtej paused, his black eyes gazing towards the far horizon before he turned and looked directly at Dagran. “And these good days, brought by the virtuous strength of those who came before, cause the new generations to forget the evils that vice brings, the cosmic imbalance and chaos it causes. And their hearts become inclined towards its momentary pleasures. Weak, undisciplined, unvirtuous; they bring ruin to themselves and ruin to all. This is as it has always been, for you are a learned man my ramshid and you know this, but it is not as it always needs to be. If our ramshids know to be ever virtuous, then the times will be ever good.”
The ramshid’s own black eyes seemed to gaze listlessly over the horizon, his head gently bobbing in nods as though he heard nothing more than the eddies of wind. But when the other man had said his fill, Dagran did not wait long to reply. “Truth dwells in your words, wise Viparta,” he admitted, forgoing titles and calling the ramtej by his name, “and I have oft thought in ways much the same. Most men are shortsighted, lacking in vision; I think that is what leads them to fall prey to vice and foolishness, to abandon all teaching of discipline and vex their fathers. They contemplate yesterday, and realise that it was not so different from the day before that, or the one before, or even some day a cycle ago. So then they look to tomorrow, and think that it too shall be much the same. They are like leaves, falling from trees on the riverbank and drifting down into the water to be swept this way and that, never imagining that they might paddle their own way - or perhaps even change the course of the river! Ha!
“Gaze upward, Viparta; do you see how high this fort stands? Have you seen any other like it? Or even any temple so grand, reaching so close to the heavens above?” The hints of tiredness, boredom, reticence in the ramshid had vanished, replaced by something else… something perhaps more dangerous. His eyes were smiling, and the scent of pride was upon his breath as real as if it were a cloying smell of wine.
The ramtej looked up, his dark eyes impassive and mouth pursed. “It is a high fort indeed. Perhaps nothing higher was ever made by the hands of man - other than your father’s of course. It is a good and dutiful son who avoids outdoing his father, after all; and you my ramshid are clearly just that. And though the temples of man’s making are all of them cast low about you, the divine temple stands there in the west, the throne of the One Who Frowns down upon all and is not frowned down upon.” The ramtej smiled slightly. “It is as though he says, ‘build!’ and mocks all we raise high. Where is Sahruqar and its high towers? Where are its thousand streets, its hundred gates? Sprawling and mighty, built like a mountain and spreading like the sea - think how a mere peasant brought it low.” The ramtej spoke sadly, bitterly, but when his eyes turned to Dagran there was also a knowing gleam in the darkness of his eyes. “Is it not said, after all: ‘No glories ever fruit by mortals planned / The gods all laugh at all we scheme and brew / Come let us weep the loss of love and land’?”
“You must meditate carefully upon such thoughts, ramtej. A fruit half ripe and yet half black is in the end just a rotten fruit, and so a man who preaches half wisdom but half folly likewise cannot be called wise at all. Just ruminate upon what you have said: if no sons were ever to outdo their fathers, out of their senses of goodness and duty, out of fear, then you must understand that there would be no forts at all. We would all live in hovels and be nothing more than the dirt beneath our feet. From the hard times there would arise no strong men and ‘good ramshids’ to bring about better days, you see? So in your mockery you find truth: I am a good and dutiful son to my father, for seeking to rebuild the realm that was his legacy and leave behind a legacy of my own that is even stronger yet. The land bleeds and suffers; these are trying times, make no mistake, and I am a hard man that must - that shall! - see them into the twilight.
“And as for Sahruqar, you know as well as I that it lies a ruin. Its walls were not tall enough, the slopes and might of its mountain too easily climbed. So again that is why the son must surpass his father, and why I must build my own stronghold into a city stronger and grander yet, one that shall not fall for many lifetimes if ever. Have you ever thought of what it must be like, to be a god and look down upon all? I think that to them, we must be as mere ants. Do you notice the stray ants that crawl beneath your shadow? Do you concern yourself overly with any of them, of their struggles? No, you simply cannot, so you walk on mercilessly, not wishing them harm but also not watching for those that fall beneath your feet. But when the ants come together and build a great mound, then you take notice. Then you step around it. Perhaps one could say that in so doing, you give the ants your blessing.”
The ramtej turned away from the balcony, his eyes betraying his regret for having come or spoken. There was simply no reasoning with a man whose hubris matched the mountains. “Then build, ramshid. But as you build remember - for you are a learned man, are you not? - what became of those who came before us. Glorious ramshids came and went, the Glorified Mojtha, a god amongst us, descended and ruled; only the essential goodness of his teachings survive, not his ramshidra, not his great temples, not even his progeny. Only his virtue.” He glanced over his shoulder, his lips compressed. “Had you and your brothers loved your father better, my ramshid…” the words faded away, and the old man’s eyes lost themselves in thought as he turned away and walked off muttering to himself, “you are blowing into ashes, Viparta, into cinders. Won’t you learn?”
The Ramshid Dagran, or Warprince as he is styled by the enemies who dispute his claim, is introduced.
A heavy silence hung over Shidhig and those who had seen Sugae in the fray. There was a feeling, among them, that things had gone very wrong. "But it was weird, wasn't it." The big man, Balghro, said. "Like something out of the stories, you know?"
"Yeah..." Shidhig agreed sullenly as he stared into the fire.
"He saved my life, y'know." Galgu murmured.
"Yeah, you've not shut up about it." Shidhig muttered irritably. "Honour and all that bullshit, got it. What good's honour now, huh?"
"Come now Shidhig-" Balghro began, but the smith's apprentice rose and kicked the flame, sending cinders and burning wood everywhere.
"I don't want to hear it, alright?" Shidhig growled, then moved off.
Sugae had been alive, barely, after the elephant struck him. They had managed to get him back to camp and one of the ascetics had taken his warturban off and set to stitching him up. But he had died within the hour. Shidhig had watched numbly as they placed him on the pier, tunic and warturban and all. It was surreal.
That night, Shidhig slipped silently from the camp and disappeared into the darkness there.
Interested in playing a character from the southern desert people, potentially a warlord out to unify them or some such, and generally developing the desert people's culture etc.
Lord Zee
DracoLunaris
Frettzo
Cyclone
Vec
Torack
