King of Rats

Divinus: The God RP, Mk. IV

Act one, Scene One, Yamat and Oraelia

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Yamat had been drawn to this place, a wide open prairie that stretched far into the horizon. Life was found in abundance, more than Yamat had ever witnessed, far more than what he had found within the isles he fell to. This would be the perfect place to begin his task, but what to begin with?

He gazed upon the plains of yellow grass, the herds of bison and elephants, the open skies...that gave him an idea. The winds softly blew as Yamat raised his arms, letting the sigils glow and sizzle once more, soft at first, but growing as he instilled his powers once more into the world. The clouds grew darker, larger, they encompassed the sky, the winds picked up and became to whip at the grass. The animals, unsure of what was going on, began to flee in all directions.

The clouds began to swirl, faster, and faster, until the vortex began to form. Yamat gently let it touch down, as the winds kept up their pace, then, he let it loose. The tornado ripped through the prairies, picking up animals and plants alike, ravaging the land, but he knew he could go farther.

He brought the winds across the Prairies, he made it so that every inch was not untouched by the tornados, but, he did not make them constant. He instead opted to make them random, they would come at unexpected times, only the rushing of the winds and a darkened sky would be the only warning for his beautiful gift upon the prairies.

Yamat watched his tornados go through the prairies, his first one had petered out, but more were forming, it was, beautiful. Nothing could ruin this serene moment he had made for himself, the rushing of winds and the roaring of tornados. It was, music.

---

Under blue skies, Oraelia was once again in her Prairie. She had come across a pride of Leons, and was playing with the three cubs, under the watchful eye of a Leoness. The cubs were almost as large as her and they had so much energy! She could hardly contain herself as they rolled around in the dirt, mock fighting and wrestling. They quickly learned that they could be as rough as they wanted with her, because Oraelia hardly felt it. She was just content to make friends.

She giggled as a cub pounced on her, biting with it’s full force on her side, which really just tickled her. ”O-Oh! Oh!” she laughed, gently swatting the cub away. ”You’re growing strong, little one!” she said, watching it and the other two as they formed a pile of wriggling bodies.

Then the wind changed, growing colder and the skies darkened before her. The cubs retreated to their mother as Oraelia stood up with a perplexed look on her face. A storm? So suddenly? The wind began to howl and before her the currents of warm and cold air whipped into a frenzy around one another, forming something truly terrible. She knew not what it was, only that it frightened even her. She watched the funnel touch down on the prairie, sending great plumes of dust and debris into the air. Animals began to run in her direction, scared out of their minds as the wind roared like some monstrous thing.

She turned around, only to find the Leons gone, taking off into the sky. The cubs struggled against the wind, and her heart began to beat as she took off in a blinding flash before the funnel of wind caught them. She caught two of them with her arms around their necks, and they howled in fear. They were terrified. Yet before she could even think about getting the other cub, another funnel erupted to the side of her, the side where the leoness and cub were. It happened so quickly, they were there one moment and then… They were gone.

A wail escaped her lips, as she flew faster, dodging more and more funnel clouds and the devastation they wrought. Eventually they escaped the cloud itself, and she landed, letting the cubs free. They huddled next to each other, shaking. Oraelia looked back to see the devastation unfold before her eyes, and she felt powerless.

But she was a god. Had she forgotten so quickly? She flew once more, back into the storm of storms and she yelled a simple word, one she had heard a long time ago.

”STOP!” And her word was obeyed.

The frenzy of wind began to die down, as the clouds dispersed to reveal sunlight upon a broken prairie. The intense wind had cut large swathes of destruction, like great scars. Where once there had been grass, now only dirt remained. Everything was strewn about, even the animals. Many had died, or were dying. She flew closer. Her tears began to fall as she wondered if this could be a part of the cycle. Was it? Was this natural? She brought a hand to her mouth as she came upon a Leon. Upon his side he lay, wings and limbs broken by the wind, and his fall. His breaths were ragged, and there was a pained look in his eye. She soothed the Leon with her warm touch, attempting to heal it, but once again she was too late. The Leon took his last breath before growing still.

She broke down, curling herself into a ball next to the Leon as she cried. Death was a part of the cycle, and she had seen it play out over and over again, but there was something about this… This death… It was not right.

Such windstorms had not been in her designs for the Prairie, and she had never seen them exist anywhere else. What had changed? What had brought about this needless loss of life? She had made the balance here, was it not good enough? Did there need to be uncertainty? The wind was natural, yes, but to that level? It had taken the cub that tickled her… The cubs!

She needed to return to them, before she lost more. She flew into the sky, but stopped when she felt a presence. A presence she had never felt before. It was another god.

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The winds had stopped, dammit why had they stopped! Yamat frantically looked around at the ravaged plains, animals layed about uttering anguished wails, unable to get up due to broken bones. Where the tornados had landed and moved through there only remained open dirt, having ripped the grass from the soil. His storms had just ended, they weren’t supposed to do that! What happened? He could’ve sworn they were supposed to continue, at least for another few hours. It was going to be beautiful!!!

He began to walk around the ruined prairies, taking in the tragedy that had befallen the region, while having been cut short its effects were still to Yamat’s liking. The tornadoes would take a great deal to recover from, though he was unsure if they would continue like he had planned, he needed to check, this strange full stop was rather frustrating.

That's when he felt it, something he had never felt, another god, close, very close. Yamat was drawn to the presence, it was full of life much like the prairies, or well, before he had arrived. His curiosity took over and he slowly walked towards the presence, intrigued by meeting another of his kind.

He didn’t have to walk long before a glowing light shot across the horizon and stopped before him. She looked at him with a neutral face, before a sad smile crossed her lips.

”H-Hello, sibling.” she began, ”Who might you be?” she asked curiously.

He bowed, his lanky body almost doubling over itself "I am Yamat," He returned to a standing position, extending his hand to the glowing woman "And who might you be?"

She looked at his hand, but made no move forward. ”Yamat…” she said softly. ”I am Oraelia, Yamat. When did you come to be?” she inquired.

Lowering his hand, Yamat pondered, looking off in the distance "I am unsure, all I can remember is falling and landing onto some isles to the east, I was drawn here for all the life it had, is this your creation?" He looked around the prairies, ignoring the obvious destruction.

She smiled at that. ”Yes, it is indeed. Though I… It’s had storms, maybe you saw them?” she asked.

"Why yes I believe I did," He spoke with some sincerity "They seemed so sudden and so, tragic."

”Yes…” she whispered, looking off into the distance. ”They were not a part of my original design.” she looked back at him. ”You… You wouldn’t happen to know why they came about, do you?”

He shrugged, looking up towards the now empty sky "I can't say that I do, I arrived just as they began." He looked at Oraelia, taking in her form “Perhaps it was an enemy of yours? Or maybe a rogue god? If either of those exist.”
Her shoulders seemed to droop slightly and a sad expression crossed her face. ”Oh… I was hoping to find out who… Oh well.” she stood up a little straighter and looked at Yamat and shook her head. ”I am not aware of any enemies I have… We fellow gods are siblings, after all. Perhaps it was just… the Lifeblood, or… I don’t know.” she sighed. ”I apologize, brother, but I must cut this meeting short. I need to go tend to the hurt and wounded.” she said with a sad smile.

“Of course sister,” He bowed once more, this time a bit less deep. “I wish you the best of luck in your endeavors, if you ever require any help in finding who did this, I am willing to help as much as I can.” She nodded and with that he turned and began to walk away.

”Oh, Yamat!” Oraelia called after him.

He spun around, stopping in his place “Yes Oraelia?”

”Your halo… I like it.” she said.

Yamat gave a small nod, reaching one of his hands to touch the soft edges of the light behind his head “Why thank you,” He looked her up and down once more “I greatly enjoy your creations, I hope we meet again one at less, tragic times.”

She beamed him a smile. ”Of course! See you again soon!” she said, waving him off.

Yamat waved back, turning around once more and taking in the broken Prairies. How, tragic it had been that the culprit could not be caught, how tragic indeed. Yamat chuckled, this was the perfect beginning to his play, and he had countless more acts and scenes to create.

Summary

Yamat finds himself within the Prairie of Sol, attracted by the life it held, he then enacts his first great tragedy, causing tornadoes to rip through the prairie, taking both animal and plant alike. Oraelia meanwhile sits in the prairie with a Leon mother and plays with some cubs. Suddenly the tornados appear, causing destruction she had never witnessed before, the cubs and mother are taken up by the storm, with Oraelia only managing to save two of the cubs. She ends the storms with her powers, and witnesses the results, including the death of a male Leon. Yamat, angered begins to investigate and notices Oraelia, who has noticed him too. They have a nice conversation, with Yamat denying knowing anything about the storms, they depart shortly afterward.

MP

Oraelia
2MP/5DP
2MP/5DP

Yamat
2MP/5DP
0MP-Adding Tornados to the Praire of Sol, ecosystem
2MP/5DP

Divinus: The God RP, Mk. IV

The Curtain Opens

Katsunao felt the air rush around him, his eyes gazed upwards towards the cliffside, his brother stood there, arms outstretched. That bastard, that damn bastard, he had brought him to this place, to “bury the hatchet” he said “to put the past behind them” he said, that fucking bastard. He knew what he wanted, he wanted his respect and power for himself, he wanted his wife, he wanted his life and that fucker had gotten it all. With all his might he cursed his brother, he cursed him to damnation, to suffer countless years of torment and terror, to see him rot in the darkest pits of the underworld the complete and UTTER BA-

THUD

The being crashed into the sodden and water logged dirt, above it several branches had shattered and cracked, falling with them. They were as black as the night above, golden runes and sigils etched into their skin, long clawed hands grasped at the ground, ensuring it was stable, then aided the long, thin, and pointed legs in bringing the thin and emaciated body to its fullest height. Their hands reached up to their face, softly touching its skin, this would not do, they held out their hand, feeling the pull of power, slowly, a golden mask formed in their hand, a single eye hole on the left side, they brought the mask to their face, it fit perfectly upon it, with the eye hole being filled with a bright white light, behind their head a glowing golden halo formed, bright with fuzzy dimmer edges, they also waved their free hand, forming a beautiful golden skirt to cover their lower half.

The being now took the time to look around where it had fallen to, large twisted trees reached towards the sky, blocking out the sun with their canopies, or well they did where a being hadn’t just crashed through, in which case light poured into the dim land. A flowing waterway sat about a few meters in front of them, it looked rather deep and was at least 30 meters wide, all around them insects of massive and small sizes buzzed about, birds squaked in the trees and rested along the banks, rodents of various sizes scuttled about, the being found them, endearing, they saw two large rodents stop to drink from the waterways, they seemed to be together and-

SNAP

A large reptilian creature emerged from the waterways, with massive jaws it crunched down on one of the creatures, dragging it into the water as the other one fled. Dark blood pooled upon the surface of the river, the being was horrified at the sudden act of violence and recoiled away. It looked upon itself once more, it knew it was a god, but, it didn’t quite understand itself, it only knew it wanted to create something. It raised one of its hands, and directed it towards one of the birds sitting idly by the river bank, the runes etched into their skin glowed and burned, they didn’t entirely know what they were doing, but it felt right. In a rapid instant, the bird was snatched by a black tendril fitted with a sharpened end, it pierced the avian’s breast and killed it within in instant, even quicker it flung the corpse back, towards its original point. The being looked at its hand, the runes now dying down and fizzling, had they caused that?

Suddenly from the dense forests and vegetation came a strange creature, it held itself upright with four clawed legs, stone tipped tendrils whipped around its back, and its face was a bleached white masked like stone with two large tusks, bits of feather and one long leg could be seen sinking into the plate covered purple flesh, it came forward to the being and then, stopped. It sat itself down in front of the being and lowered its head, almost showing respect to them. The being held out their hand, softly resting it upon the creature’s mask like face, it was fairly similar to the mask they themselves wore upon their face, smooth except for the tusks and the eye holes, the being knew this creature’s name, in the back of their mind: a Kre’Nasha, he felt a strong attachment to them.

WOOSH

The being turned his head upward, above him flew a massive moth like creature, only barely visible through the canopy, intrigued and fascinated the being slowly brought themselves upward through the trees, drifting upwards with rudimentary flight, the Kre’Nasha below sat valiantly, waiting their return. Settling themselves upon the canopy the being saw the full might of the giant moth, it floated lovingly in the wind, the sky above was illuminated by the bright sun, i wonder if it could fall the being thought, an urge came to it, and it look upon the moth once more, it raised its hand, the rune crackles and burned once more. Suddenly from the sky came a creature of multiple heads, spitting acid at the giant moth and trying to take it down, the moth roared in pain and fought back, the two creatures crashed into the earth, causing several trees to collapse into the waterways. The being brought itself down once more, it looked upon the Kre’Nasha, it hadn’t even bothered looking at the chaos unfolding in the distance, the being looked around again, they wanted to test more and more.

They traveled throughout the Isles they had found themselves on, full of swampish forests and rocky crags, where they went, tragedy followed, creatures died, trees collapsed, mountains fell. But something wasn’t right, the being needed something more, it desired something more. It stopped itself on the largest isle, deep in the swamp forests, it gathered materials and items and felt its power flow through itself once more. From the muck, woods, water, and bones of lost creatures, they fused and formed them into a form, two legs, two arms, tall like the being itself, it created something much like itself and gave it thought, far more thought then the beasts of the isles and the Kre’Nasha that followed him around.

The creation came into life sentient, it fell to its knees after the being was finished, looking up upon its creator, at first the being was not sure what to do with its new creation, but the creation made the first move. It dragged its hands upwards to its face, touching it, then, much like its creator, it looked around and found some wood, it held up the piece and pointed towards it, then to the being’s own face, the point was rather clear. The being took the piece of wood into its hands, and shaped it into a beautiful mask, two eye holes for its creation, and beautiful black and gold colouring, reflecting the being themselves. It handed the mask back to their creation, who was quick to put it upon their face, with it fitting perfectly. It was at this point that the being realized their creations needed a name….they needed a name as well.

"Yamat...that shall be my name"

The christened Yamat turned towards his creation, it sat upon the floor, tilting its head towards them.

"Hmmmm, you shall need a name as well, and more people"

With a wave of his hand, more of the creations came into existence, each one given a specially crafted mask, both tailored to their identity and admittingly to make it easier for Yamat to recognize them. By the time they were finished, there were thousands of the beings, with their newfound sentience they began to organize and work.

"I dub thee, the Reshut, my greatest of followers" Yamat declared, but, as soon as the Reshut had been created, tragedy struck.

Two brothers, one respected among the fledgling people and Yamat’s first creation, and another less so, had engaged in a constant feud with one another. The lesser brother had invited the greater one to the rocky crags and thrown him from its cliffs. The people were in mourning, and so too, was Yamat, he punished the lesser brother by causing the cliffs beneath him to collapse, but he was not quick enough to save his first creation, his favorite one. It seemed to be that wherever he went, whatever he created even before his own creation, tragedy followed suit.

That's when it dawned upon him, his reason for existing, he was not meant to create. But to destroy. He was Yamat, god of tragedy, he tested his powers again and again, he was able to cause the most terrible tragedies, causing loved ones to fall ill, father to turn against son, and even entire populations to suffer famine. This was his calling, but yet, he still loved the Reshut and the Kre’Nasha, his creations, and so, he vowed never to do them as great harms as he would wreck upon the other forces of life, for he sensed their creative powers far beyond the isles he lived in, he vowed to find them, find these other gods, his work had begun, he had a play of tragedies to create.

Summary

THE SAD BOI IS HERE, Yamat is created, ripping himself free from the life blood and falling upon the Kylsar isles, after fixing his form a bit and looking about the isles, he endures the first instances of tragedy, eventually coming upon the Kre’Nasha which he created when he was within the lifeblood, upon causing more tragedies Yamat wishes to attempt to create a race, the Reshut, who take to wearing masks much like him, but even his creations are not free of the tragedy he causes, and the brother of the first Reshut ends up killing them by pushing them off a cliff, with this Yamat comes to realize his calling as God of Tragedy and vows to bring it to the other gods and their creations.

mp usage

2mp=creation of the Reshut, mysterious beings who hide themselves behind masks, more to come of them soon

Divinus: The God RP, Mk. IV

LifeBlood

The lifeblood stirred and puslated, work was needed, more and more and more work, it never ended. It came upon the isle with those strange floating sheep, the south was barren, that needed to change.

The lifeblood felt itself wobble and stirred with power once more, it spread a wide open plain over the southern portions, but this time it raised with it giant metal and stone pillars that crackled with energy, at times shooting bolts of lightning at one another in loud thunderous cracks. It then caused the southern regions to be filled with constant storms, pouring down rain and lightning upon the plains below, though the giant pillars would serve as guides for the lightning, drawing it to them and when struck, crackling with intense energy which would then be distributed across to other pillars. The lifeblood then populated the region with creatures suited for this strange land: prong horned antelopes adapted to eat the electrified grass, lizards able to discharge small amounts of electricity to paralyze their prey, and birds that ride and migrate with the storms, heradling their arrival.

With the plains finished the Lifeblood returned to its far eastern creation: the Kylsar Isles. They still remained barren of animals, this needed to be fixed. First came the creatures created by the Deep-One of those mighty blue oceans, fish swam through the waterways, becoming different than their deep oceaned brethren, elongating and adapting to the different types of waters. Next came the drakes, becoming a dark green like the swamps surrounding them so they may better blend in, their fins fused together and they gained elongated tails to better traverse the shallower swamp waterways. The birds it had created before were next, they gained elongated legs and beaks fitted to hunt for the fish of the waterways, though they were also useful food for the Drakes, some gained increased wingspan, sharp beaks filled with serrated teeth inside, and dangerous claws, they became predators to anything that dared walk the land. Then there were mammals, rodents of nearly every type were put upon the isles, many of great size, easily that of a dog, then came the amphibians, frogs, toads, newts, they all inhabited every corner of the water filled forests.

Something was missing though, something extraordinary, the lifeblood felt another tug, that aggressive tug once more, clawing its way forward, it wanted to create something far more dangerous. It gathered the slick muck from the swampish forests and began to twist and shape it, it became an iridescent purple with golden streams pulsating and warping throughout the now goo-like flesh. The life blood then gathered stone and gave the still formless goo a shape, forming hardened plates and a bleached white mask that could shift and change with the creature, then it gave it thought, basic thought, but thought nonetheless. The new creatures wobbled and shifted, forming four stumpy gooish legs with stone tipped claws and thick spiked tendrils from its back, its mask became wider with stone tusks filled with the purple flesh. It shook itself, and looked at the environment around it, in a rapid instant it lashed out one of its tendrils and speared a fish from a nearby waterway, bringing it into the goo flesh to consume it. This, this was perfect. The life blood created several more, enough to begin to sustain themselves, for the new creatures reproduced asexually, each one seemed to take different shapes and forms, with many even changing and shifting when their needs changed, they were perfect for these isles, the apex of apexes.

With the creatures finished the Lifeblood moved one once more, content in its creation, as that same claw tugging occurred once more.

Summary

The lifeblood first creates the Storm Plains, name pending, to the south of the gravity sheep plains, these plains are filled with storms and giant metal pillars that attract and discharge lightning, several species were created naturally adapted to the land. Next the life blood turns once more to the Kylsar Isles, this time it fills the swamp forests full of creatures, fish, reptiles, rodents, birds, the like, but it feels like something is missing. It is then when the Lifeblood creates the Kre’Nasha, creatures made of a goo like flesh with hardened stone plates and masks that can shift and change their form at will, with the plates and mask also being able to be changed, the lifeblood content then moves on, leaving the isles to their lonesome.

mp summary

0MP=Create the storm plains and their ecosystem
0mp=Fill the Kylsar isles with creatures
1mp=Create the Kre’Nasha, able to shift and change their shape at will and reproduce asexually

Divinus: The God RP, Mk. IV

LifeBlood

The lifeblood pulsed once more, more needed to be done, more needed to be created. It gazed upon the twizted fields it had created, then looked east of the great Stone-one’s creation, a vast empty pool of the Deep-One lay beyond, waiting for something, something, smaller this time.

Learning from the Stone-one’s great pulling upon the earth, the Lifeblood tried to achieve a similar goal though in a more small and refined way. It tugged upon the rocks and dirt and pulled them upwards, forming a mass of barren earth and soil, a land ripe to create more and more. Then, in an instant, it shattered the mass, allowing portions to haphazardly fall back into the ocean, forming small isles and thin chains of barren dirt. The world shook as the isles formed and collected, and the Lifeblood once more felt a tug, this time, it was more aggressive, almost clawing for freedom, the lifeblood merely pushed it aside. The isles were new, and they needed work.

The lifeblood pulsed and warped, something needed to be put down upon these barren isles, it looked westward, at the Great-Tree and the work of the Moon-Child, then back to its previous work, something different would be done. The shattered lands filled with streams of water from the surrounding oceans that flowed along deepening causeways twisting throughout the formerly barren regions, twisted and mangled trees that stretched high into the sky to block out the sun grew across the dirt and soil, nourished by the now deep black water, bushes full of thorns and pointed grass grew on the shores, the air was heavy and almost fog like. In essence, it was as water filled as a mire or swamp, but as filled with trees and foliage as a forest, life would become strange within this equally strange land, but the lifeblood did not concern itself with this.

Next it turned towards the northwest, to the land it had filled before, mountains and pointed trees, it felt a desire to change it. With the imposing of its will once more, the hills and mountains grew dense with foliage, large needled trees and bountiful shrubs and herbs, by the end the mountains were covered. The rest of the region though, would become something far different, the foliage became sparser and smaller in many areas, the soil became loose and more scattered, pushed and pulled by the frigid winds of the region. What began as a possible forest of life became a scattered wasteland with the bountiful mountains sitting within its center, one last thing was needed to be done by the Lifeblood, for reasons it didn't quite understand, deep within the scattered frigid lands, it constructed a strange structure, two curved pointed rocks facing one another, nearly touching but not quite, once more a tug was felt, but it pushed it aside once more. Its work was done here for now.

Summary

The lifeblood makes some islands and fills them with some weird Swamp forests, it then returns to its original starting point and pretty much flips the mountains and forests in regards to foliage and life, lastly it crafts a strange rock structure, with two curved rocks facing towards one another

MP usage

Creating isles=o spent
Crafting biomes=o spent

Divinus: The God RP, Mk. IV

He Who Suffers

Name: Yamat, he who suffers

Primordial or Conceptual: Conceptual

Domain: Tragedy
The death of a lover to an incurable disease, young men dying within a war, collapse of nations and cities, a man killing his own brother by sheer accident, tragedy, pure, and, simple. Tragedy is all that causes pain, suffering, or despair, but it is not mindless, tragedy is controlled, pinpointed, pain, Tragedy is not a natural disaster, but instead Tragedy is a young man falling in love, engaging in a duel for their hand in marriage, killing the duelist and going to jail, only to leave and find out their love has already moved past them. Tragedy is slow and plays out over a long period, it may include only one being or extend throughout an entire nation or continent, it lingers in those who have suffered it for years, death does not have to be a part of it, but it is a common effect.

Portfolio: Misfortune
Yamat’s best weapon is that of Misfortune, which is far beyond that of just “bad luck”, misfortune can be the revealing of secret document to an enemy spy, a drought just as farming season begins, a blade sliding too far and killing one someone is dueling, the death of a child in birth, an arrow landing just right...to kill you, these are all misfortune. Misfortune is often used by Yamat to ensure his tragedies play out as they should, though rarely to begin them.

Their Realm: The Endless Wastes
Yamat’s domain is an empty plain that stretches on for endless miles into the horizon, the dirt is loose and grey with dead plants and bleached bones jutting through, a black massive sun sits high in the sky and radiates horrendous heat upon the surface eternally, never sinking below the surface. Dotting the surface of the wastes stand broken ruins of past tragedies, a new one forming for each of its counterparts upon Galbar, to observe these ruins is to look upon endless sorrow and pain, to search them is to invite it into your own mind…it is always best to stay clear of the ruins. One can not find Yamat in their realm, one must instead merely sit, and linger, let their sorrow and pain overwhelm them, then they shall arrive, and bring one to a far more shaded area, a massive canopy built of rotten wood and broken stone, cobbled together haphazardly, underneath sits two chairs and a table, similarly built like the canopy above.

Persona:
Yamat is silent, Yamat is calculating, Yamat is cold and emotionless. The Tragedy they rules over is not something Yamat enjoys, but they do not abhor it either, to them, it is part of life and must be respected, one cannot have the good in life without knowing what pain feels like. Yamat rarely speaks, they instead are far more willing to sit and watch, ensuring tragedy comes as needed and when that tragedy does come, they takes its effects in, watching the reaction of each individual touched by despair and pain with intent, even when the original event is over they checks up on those they have touched, to see how they are doing, not out of empathy, but out of pure, cold, calculation. The only time they are concerned about other gods is when they can aid in the Tragedy and torment they create, those who don’t, can’t, or won’t are little concern to them, those who try to stop them must be pushed aside, their work must continue.

Base Form:
Yamat’s base form is that of a 8 foot tall, pure black, spindly humanoid. The face is covered with a golden faceless mask with a singular eye hole on the left(Yamat) side that shows a large eye of pure white light, behind the head hovers a golden halo. The torso is thin and one can see the outlines of ribs and bones underneath the black skin of Yamat, their arms are similarly thin and their fingers are almost like claws. Yamat’s legs are hidden underneath a long golden skirt that drags upon the floor. Anywhere Yamat’s skin is visible, there exist golden runes and sigils seemingly carved into their skin, they never remain in the same place and can even change when one looks away and back.

Domain Form:
Yamat’s domain form is that of an emancipated humanoid, their skin an ashy grey clinging tightly to their bones, their eyes are gone and covered in a golden cloth with their head being covered by a golden hood. Golden robes cover most of the body, but a large hole in the back exposes cuts and lashes and large arrows stick out in the area. Despite being gone their eye sockets continuously cry, with a constant stream appearing from the golden cloth, their feet are covered in golden cloth as well.

Avatar: Mathius
Mathius is much like a puppet, silent, mindless, and controlled by the strings of their owner, used by Yamat to ensure his tragedies work in the beautiful manner they’re supposed to. Mathius is a humanoid figure, their skin never shows, instead being covered by various clothing. Their face is covered by strips of golden cloth and a black hood, their torso and legs by a long black robe with golden cloth strips wrapped around their arms and legs. Much like their god, Mathius rarely speaks, and even when they do it is a haggard, breathy voice barely above a whisper that sounds almost painful to them, as such they do it rarely and only when they are absolutely required to speak out loud, instead preferring to speak via the mind, though their voice continues to be haggard and breathy, though far less painful. Mathius has very little autonomy, their body and mind are fully controlled by Yamat, being used as mostly as a herald for the tragedy the god is so known for, with the sight of Mathius often meaning that the works of Yamat will be following soon after. The words Mathius speak are often the words of Yamat, sometimes though Mathius gains some semblance of autonomy, mostly when Yamat is more concerned on the creation of some new tale of his instead of acting them out, during this time Mathius tends to wander aimlessly, causing smaller and chaotic events of tragedy and misfortune, though these times rarely last for long, with Yamat often calling Mathius back to his control once more.

Musical Theme: