No, a demigod does not become a god by simply levelling up. Sin will.
<Snipped quote by LokiLeo789>
There is no level you must reach. It is purely based on how well the GMs, and fellow players to some extent, reckon you've RPed, and whether you've earned it. Demands of any ongoing storyline also come into play - Ialu is a very good example of this
I have asked this question many times and it has been explained just was well. To my knowledge, leveling up into a god only applies to Amartía since he has a godly soul, and even that is a stretch. The rest of you halfings must squirm.
@ActRaiserTheReturned From what I've been told, its voted upon after they make great strides in the overall story of the RP. (Kinda like what Amartía is doing now. *cough*)
I remember you from MK.1. I played Arguis who stole a chunk of his Dragon eggs and turnned them into plant people.....I miss Arguis.
Anywho, did you ever actually submit a character to this? If not he is dead, but his soul is locked away. You can do some cool maneuvering and have his soul be reborn in one of @Vec's dragons if you still wish to play the dragon demigod or something.
Are we all just germs living out life on some other mans body? Or are out lives simulations and when we die we wake up and we just took an hour long class on Alien Life. Questions man....questions.
Description: Intelligent and malevolent entities of chaotic creation that are a living embodiment of a specific sin. Dagon are collectively the greatest servants of sin and are potentially a worldly force. They are created at the whim of one of the seven major sins from a fraction of Amartía's own concentrated power and act as an extension of his will. A Dagon's appearance and intrinsic character reflect the sin's true nature, and very constantly due to mutations. This also affects it power and physical and or mental capabilities.
However, the sin is fickle and often bestow gifts of change without rhyme or reason. These gifts include mutations such as extra arms, tougher, coloured skin, wings, claws and fangs, often decided by the sins power and effect. But mortals aren't the only ones who can be transformed into Dagon, primal entities are are also infected and are capable of sinning; dog, wolves, horses, birds and so on.
Life Cycle: Dagon are essentially immortal until killed, thier sin blood boiling as long as the sin exists.
Description: Wrath Dagon serve as the eager foot soldiers of Amartía. Dagon are mortals made deadly warriors whose will is as implacable and blood-hungry as that of Wrath itself. Sharp, needle-like teeth stud a Dagon's slavering jaws. Its serpentine tongue constantly flickers to taste the spilled blood of those it slays. Rippling muscles lie barely concealed beneath the Dagon's scaly red hide, knotted sinews that give the strength sufficient for its jet-black claws to pierce the most unyielding armour. This might is guided by a killing instinct that surpasses that of mortal men. A Dagon is unburdened by any other thought or compulsion than to reap the lives of its enemies and sate its Wrath. Thier blood boils constantly and burns with molten fire.
Their horrific appearance is an assault upon mortal sensibilities. Their skin is the colour of hot blood, and their angry eyes resemble burning coals; living manifestations of primal fury. Dagon posses an inhuman strength; they can rip a mortal apart with cold-blooded ease, becoming the perfect, mindless predator.
Dagon are ferocious monsters that descend upon their foes in baying packs. The sight of spilt blood only drives them further into a frenzied rage, screaming with fury as they fall upon mortal flesh with blades, teeth and claws. Without choice, thier bodies and mind are primal, accessing senses, reflexes, and urges that lie at the very heart of all creatures. The acuity of thier eyes are astonishing, granting them the ability to see distances and detail that few others could ever hope to experience. They also function in a complete lack of light, allowing them to fight in absolute darkness as if it were the middle of the day. Thier noses are hyper-focused to a variety of odors, especially to blood, sweat, and endorphins, which allow a Wrath Dagon to essentially read the bodily functions of thier enemies, giving them knowledge as to their emotions and their level of fatigue. These senses, when used in combat, turn Dagon into a veritable monster, able to fight in many situations with tremendous sensory advantages.
With their superhuman senses of sight, hearing, touch, and smell, a Wrath Dagon's reaction time becomes unmatched. Thier primal fury fueling thier fighting ability, becoming tireless, savage berserkers.
Animals cannot escape the corruption of Wrath. Wrath Dagon Steads are manifestations of unbridled rage. A fusion of emotion and beast, its limbs slam into the ground as it charges, spurring the creature forwards with staggering force. With its head tilted down, and its blade-horned snout at the ready, its crushing impact knocks foes from their feet before it tramples them into ruin. Such massive Dagonic beasts are nigh-unstoppable brutes of rage, taking an appearance similar to that of normal Dagon.
Dagon Hounds are savage beasts that relentlessly hunt down enemies in a rage. Their razor-sharp teeth can shred armour and flesh alike and their claws are staunched in the remains of their terrified opponents. With a sinuous, wolf-like form, thick, scaled hides, and a blunt maw full of sharp, shredding teeth, they roam in packs, never resting, always hunting.
Though vaguely canine in form, Dagon Hounds are more a horrific cross between dog and reptile. Covered with thick scales, Hounds mount large horns and usually feature a series of spikes down the spine. Frills grow from various locations, such as the back of the skull, on the throat, or the rear of the jaws. Coloration ranges from dark red to greyish-black, with bone-chilling howls, they attack and kill with astonishing speed.
Len turned to face the owner of the voice, his eyes quickly scanning and judging its owner. He sensed a certain easiness about the boy, a calm that seemed to follow him around like a lost puppy. It was a forced stillness, despite the boys judging words. Just through his speech Len could read him like an open book. He so easily judged his comrades to be rash and without sense, criminals and hooligans with flaring tempers, but he took no offence. He could sense the boy's protectiveness over his companion dressed in enemy fatigues.
Len shook his head despondently, giving the newcomer his answer."This one lacks nothing but unease. Nonetheless, patience is our friend in this game. Sit and rest, all will come to pass soon." he mused, gesturing for the duo to sit next to him.
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Vec