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Roan was surprised one of these goblins had the semblance of a skilled warrior, with the slightest of the chances of actually being one. Even if his initial impression would be wrong, Roan considered the beast his foe rode was ferocious and ugly enough to merit the benefit of the doubt, at least. As both the possibility of a challenge and of a substantial reward presented itself, Roan adjusted his position to face the small fry goblins, his sword ready to strike at any foe foolish enough to get in the reach of his blade.
I'd be willing to put some points in it, supposing others would want their share.
Roan ignored whatever else was happening around and instead focused on the blond girl that had just approached him. When he heard her last comment he raised an eyebrow in response, his doubt about her abilities perceptible while he analyzed the girl from head to toe. Finished with this, he didn’t even try to suppress a sigh as his expression changed to one of obvious disappointment at her meek appearance. While he scratched his chin, Roan remarked on what she had said. “Yeah, right. For all I know Desna herself could have planned this.”He waited a moment to see if there would be any manner of reply before he went after fighter and the ratfolk. The only two capable members of their little alliance of convenience, besides Roan himself, the two both set on a heroic dash to the next encounter with the foul smelling and incredibly irritating goblins.
He acknowledged their actions and unsheathed his Greatsword. While Roan ran, he attempted to keep his attention on any sign of trouble, but he was too distracted by the ramifications and the meaning of all that was happening. At least it’s not the absolute worst that it could be. Of course, this was if one was going to discount the facts that he was sure that priest was just waiting to backstab them when appropriate and that he had no idea of what was in fact happening on this town. Amidst these thoughts, Roan let out a humorless chuckle coupled with words aimed more to himself than anyone in particular.”When this is over, the reward better be something more than a frigging ‘thank you, please come again’ nonsense.”
He acknowledged their actions and unsheathed his Greatsword. While Roan ran, he attempted to keep his attention on any sign of trouble, but he was too distracted by the ramifications and the meaning of all that was happening. At least it’s not the absolute worst that it could be. Of course, this was if one was going to discount the facts that he was sure that priest was just waiting to backstab them when appropriate and that he had no idea of what was in fact happening on this town. Amidst these thoughts, Roan let out a humorless chuckle coupled with words aimed more to himself than anyone in particular.”When this is over, the reward better be something more than a frigging ‘thank you, please come again’ nonsense.”
Elyndil saw the new forest that had just been created by one of her...brothers? Peers? Well, by another deity and used a small part of her insurmountable power to shape the land west of it into a swamp. With the land formed, it seemed fit to adjust the sun’s light and heat on it for greater effect, this land would be very humid and warm, the perfect place for certain types of life to develop in detriment of others.
Technically the average value of 2d6 is 7 points. It would depend on luck but if you get 5 or less points you are bound to receive +1 next turn up to a maximum of +3 so it wouldn’t be too bad.
Of course after all this work, some whimsical goddess might just use 10 points for a catastrophe
Of course after all this work, some whimsical goddess might just use 10 points for a catastrophe
Like the source material says: While creating races, avatars and orders is cool, they need land to inhabit.The way the world now is, it could maybe support 1 race (I imagine 1 city=1 tile).Speaking about that, while not on the core rules I'd suggest we could have the possibility of pooling our points in some of the more expensive actions, the likes of race creation.Both to have the deities interact with each other and to avoid having to skip turns to get enough points to create the "firstborn".
Survival, food, shelter, reproduction… Elyndil could sense a myriad of primal desires continuously spilling forth from the new life that inhabited the once barren world. Though a far cry when compared to all the potential this world would have when matured, she was pleased with these results and kept focused on exercising her divine right. She infused the earth with her power again, which rose from the ocean floor in great quantity and joined with the previously placed forests.
She placed a great river in the middle of these lush woods, its form being made with a bifurcation. One way going north and the other keeping the water flow to the east. Finished with shaping the land, she set a heavy fog on the area where the river passed, so thick one would have trouble seeing anything beyond a few feet. It was then, that on a whim, she looked at the rest of the world and created a single desert, a considerable distance away from what seemed to be the mainland. This new land had strong wind currents that never stopped, but randomly changed directions.
She placed a great river in the middle of these lush woods, its form being made with a bifurcation. One way going north and the other keeping the water flow to the east. Finished with shaping the land, she set a heavy fog on the area where the river passed, so thick one would have trouble seeing anything beyond a few feet. It was then, that on a whim, she looked at the rest of the world and created a single desert, a considerable distance away from what seemed to be the mainland. This new land had strong wind currents that never stopped, but randomly changed directions.
Elyndil felt the presence of the other deities and after a moment of thought, observed their actions, curious as to their choices of shaping the world. As she watched from her vantage point, she saw the rise of a titanic creature and mused the idea off creating a similar creature. She dismissed such thought and instead focused on spreading her influence to the mortal lands by shaping them. Eagerly waiting for the auspicious time when the feeling of emptiness both inside her and permeating her surroundings would be replaced by the unrestrained delusions and desires of those below her. Soon, the land trembled as great chuncks of rock mixed with her power and formed a small island, covered in various species of trees of erratic shapes she designed herself. This land was placed somewhat near the desolate mountain with the crescent cliff, but not in a way where the lands would connect.
I suppose the Rp is still accepting?
Name: Elyndil the Dreamweaver
Aspects: Elyndil is the patron goddess of dreams, nightmares, desires and those affiliated with her domains in some way or another, ruling from the realm of dreams. Before directly interfering with the world, her presence in mortal affairs is usually perceived by means of enigmatic prophetic dreams or ominous nightmares. Those that disregard them or err in its meanings tend to suffer from the lost warning and her ire.
Personality: Elyndil is a whimsical goddess, interfering with the affairs of others with complete disregard about morality or any qualms about offering her aid to someone and soon after to their enemies if the results will be interesting. Those that seek her aid are either desperate or confident they can keep her interested in aiding them long enough to solve whathever troubles them, with their only respite being she never lies about her true intentions. Beyond any issues caused from her actions, it is known she has some occasional clashes with the others deities due to her tendency to disrupt the balance between life and death when she decides to keep mortals forever in her realm, be it in a dreamlike state or stuck living eternal nightmares.
Avatar: Elyndil rarely appears before mortal or gods alike, shrouding her form in mystery and fomenting arduous discussions between her faithful. To complicate matters, the few who claimed to have seen her diverge in her true aspect, with some claims going from terrible creatures of thousand tentacles and maws or worse to an insurmountable amount of jewels or better. The truth only a small amount of the divine host knows bound by oath of secrecy, is that her appearance depends both on the observer and on how she judges them. Those she is pleased with see her in the form of their greatest desires whilst those that earned her anger or scorn are greeted by shapes of their greatest fears.
Name: Elyndil the Dreamweaver
Aspects: Elyndil is the patron goddess of dreams, nightmares, desires and those affiliated with her domains in some way or another, ruling from the realm of dreams. Before directly interfering with the world, her presence in mortal affairs is usually perceived by means of enigmatic prophetic dreams or ominous nightmares. Those that disregard them or err in its meanings tend to suffer from the lost warning and her ire.
Personality: Elyndil is a whimsical goddess, interfering with the affairs of others with complete disregard about morality or any qualms about offering her aid to someone and soon after to their enemies if the results will be interesting. Those that seek her aid are either desperate or confident they can keep her interested in aiding them long enough to solve whathever troubles them, with their only respite being she never lies about her true intentions. Beyond any issues caused from her actions, it is known she has some occasional clashes with the others deities due to her tendency to disrupt the balance between life and death when she decides to keep mortals forever in her realm, be it in a dreamlike state or stuck living eternal nightmares.
Avatar: Elyndil rarely appears before mortal or gods alike, shrouding her form in mystery and fomenting arduous discussions between her faithful. To complicate matters, the few who claimed to have seen her diverge in her true aspect, with some claims going from terrible creatures of thousand tentacles and maws or worse to an insurmountable amount of jewels or better. The truth only a small amount of the divine host knows bound by oath of secrecy, is that her appearance depends both on the observer and on how she judges them. Those she is pleased with see her in the form of their greatest desires whilst those that earned her anger or scorn are greeted by shapes of their greatest fears.
Roan sheathed his sword in a single motion and, after a glance at the state of the enemy corpse, he pointed at the ongoing turmoil all around the group to answer the part he could understand of the rat folk’s question.”Well, we could leave the little bastards alone. They are killing themselves fine without any help.” Roan would have continued his speech if they hadn’t been interrupted by someone in blue robes. He listened to most of the current conversation with his arms crossed and no visible emotion on his face. Whilst it still happened, he turned his face to look at the other man within the group and noted that he had chosen to keep an eye on what was happening around them. Roan gave an almost imperceptible nod, which he wasn’t sure the warrior had seen, and fixed his gaze on the newcomer. Specifically on his behavior and body language to discern any information he could gather about all that was happening and its circumstances and, maybe more importantly, how trustworthy the man was.
Roan remained focused solely in his chosen task, undisturbed even when the open wound on his leg was suddenly healed and the annoying pain of the cut disappeared. His demeanor only changed when someone he had barely paid any attention to transformed into some sort of humanoid beast. Startled, he withdrew half of his Great Sword from its scabbard before he stopped; as he realized the now fox-thing hadn’t done anything threatening, at least for the moment. With a frown he took his hands away from the weapon’s hilt and allowed it to slide by itself inside its rightful place. This brought memories of how bothersome it had been to complete those manhunts against shape changers. After a rather long sigh, he said. “Hey, this isn’t the time for parlor tricks.”
Roan remained focused solely in his chosen task, undisturbed even when the open wound on his leg was suddenly healed and the annoying pain of the cut disappeared. His demeanor only changed when someone he had barely paid any attention to transformed into some sort of humanoid beast. Startled, he withdrew half of his Great Sword from its scabbard before he stopped; as he realized the now fox-thing hadn’t done anything threatening, at least for the moment. With a frown he took his hands away from the weapon’s hilt and allowed it to slide by itself inside its rightful place. This brought memories of how bothersome it had been to complete those manhunts against shape changers. After a rather long sigh, he said. “Hey, this isn’t the time for parlor tricks.”
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