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  #91  
Old 06-09-2020, 03:02 AM
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ArcataArcata gazed for a moment at the spot her brother had departed from, mulling their encounter over. Would he ever appreciate the irony, she wondered, of how the techniques to guide him and the way she manipulated Chaos itself were so similar? Just as Chaos embodied the potential for Order, so too was Order still part of Chaos in the end. They were not the separate things they appeared to be.

To grasp the nature of a thing was the key. Grasp it, and work with it. Forcing water to flow uphill was a never-ending headache. Guide its flow down to the depths though, and it did most of the work for you.

She went to the edge of the flattened peak and gazed down at the forest of her Garden. The elves of the high places rarely needed to see Macrisse anymore...his first class was now teaching the others. The great diamond dragon had time to fly as he pleased, or doze in the sunlight and absorb the radiance.

But what of the wood-elves? They would not be neglected.

Arcata descended into the Garden, wreathed in a pillar of light. She went to the oldest tree, remembering well when she'd seen it first take root after infusing the earth with life. It was old now, even for a tree, with gnarled hoary bark that had seen fires and floods, and never given way. She set her hand against that rough surface.

"Stir your sap, old friend," she said. "I give you eyes to open, ears to hear, and a mind to understand...and most of all to remember."

The gigantic tree groaned and writhed as if in a mighty stormwind. Roots broke the earth around Arcata, showering everywhere with dust and clods. A great eye opened, as wide as an elf might be tall. It's mate opened farther along, squinting slightly at the light radiated by the goddess.

"Eh?"

She smiled at the tree. "Kwee'neh, welcome."

Clumps of moss beetled together like eyebrows in mild consternation. "That...is me. Yes, I...remember." It looked at her again. "I remember...things I did not see."

"Yes. And you will remember everything from now on. You have plenty of room for it, after all. You are Kwee'neh, the Memory Tree."

The newborn tree, yet still ancient of body and mind, hefted himself among his roots and said, "Forgive me. I cannot bow without falling, I think."

Arcata laughed. "Do not bow to me. Stretch your leaves to the sky, and I will warm them. That will be how you may show your respect."

"Is that...all you would have of me?" the Memory Tree asked.

"One other. Soon you will see people come into your presence. A little like me, in seeming at least...but younger by far, and more impetuous. Teach them of the memories I have left in you. Of the power in life, and how it may be shaped, nurtured...or if necessary, expended. Teach them too of how to understand and respect you, and your kin. They shall be the caretakers of this Garden...show them how to be good ones."

The goddess caught a scent on the wind and glanced southward for a moment, then added, "Grow your roots as well, Kwee'neh. Link with these other trees so that their pains become yours. Guide my elves to the places where the forest needs them...and remember their stories. When they tell you."

"Is everything well, my Lady?" the tree asked, catching a whiff of her change in mood.

Arcata took a breath and nodded. "For now. It will not always be so though. Prepare them. And be prepared."

"Of course."

Light brightened around her, engulfing her...and then she was gone, leaving only a patch of vines and grass in the spot she stood, growing greedily in the solar radiance she'd left in her wake.


OOC actionsDomains: Sorcery, Sun
Power points: 9
Power used: Create Avatar, Command Avatar
Area affected: The Memory Tree is at the center of D6, and will also be where the wood elves first settlement is.
Points used: 7, 2
Remaining points: 0
Effect: Create new avatar (2nd avatar for 2nd age); Kwee'neh the Memory Tree, a unique 'treant'. Command Kwee'neh to found the Wood Elf settlement of Arborast in D6.

Last edited by SalmonMax; 06-20-2020 at 02:10 PM.
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  #92  
Old 06-10-2020, 06:40 AM
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The TitansGê: "Looks a bit untidy in the north don't you say?"

Phanês: "Yes- it looks like these godlings had decided to paint their masterpieces without creating a proper canvas."

Tártaros: "Looks fine to me- rather homey. If I do say so myself and I did."

Phanês: "You would say that. I suppose there is nothing wrong with a little bleakness every once in a while but this just looked unfinished."

Gê: "Well it looks like they want an inhospitable north- and we should respect that but let's at least make it pretty. I've a bit of fondness for snowscape."

Phanês: "Yes, by all means sister. Let it snow, let it snow, let it snow."

Gê unaccustomed to working other than wooded hills and mighty forests spent the next century making an A9artic plain. Looking about she pouted at what little she had accomplished. Worldbuilding was much harder than she'd remembered.

Gê: "The two of you could've helped you know."

Tártaros: "Why should I sister? As I said, it looked fine to me."

Phanês: "Tsk, tsk, Tártaros. It was rather unseemly for us to let her do all the work. So sorry sister, I'll be more helpful in the future."
2nd Century 2nd Age
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  #93  
Old 06-10-2020, 11:43 AM
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In gameShe made them from mud deep beneath the water. She willed it into a fat, bloated shape, not even caring to color the flesh from the disgusting dung color. These wretched creatures would live on small islands and underwater caves, venturing forth from the water only to raid. They would delight in the sight of fire, and be ravenous for the taste of red flesh. She made them enormous, slow, and graceless, on land at least. Their form held abundant fat but muscle as well. Their eyes would be solid blue, as bright as the water’s surface on a sunny day, their mouths a gaping black void which would swallow whole their victims. They would have no great intellect to rely on, they would pose no real threat to any of the more organized races.

Instead of wits they were given courage, endless determination, and a fine sense of smell. They would locate the burrows of their ancient enemies by scent and dig for hours to reach their interiors, giving plenty of time to ensure only soldiers would be waiting for them. They would risk their lives against these soldiers, slaughter without thought or mercy, all to fulfill their selfish cravings for flesh.

It was an odd feeling. To be proud of such a vicious, selfish, vile creation. What little warmth these beasts held was reserved for their young, and nothing else. At this the First Flesh felt the slightest tinge of regret, of empathy towards her creations, but this was buried. These creatures were not her children, they were disgusting. She watched as the first of them made their lives. They lived by the whims of the strongest, they created no art or structures, treated their woman like property, journeyed to land only to raid whatever targets they could find.

Her true children had their enemy, and with this the young god was content.

She ordered the greatest of the Dessert Giant's tribes to unite into a true army, to garrison and patrol the regions where her latest creations were the most common. This would be an incredibly dangerous station to take, one always in need of glory hungry volunteers. For centuries brash youths would be told 'if your so eager to fight go join the Southern Guard'.

Everything had worked just as the young god had hoped.


OOCDomains: Fertility and Earth
Power Points: 14
Power used: Create Race-Fokuma(chaotic evil) on E8
Command race-Dessert giants-form army
Command avatar-command race-patrol/station army around E8
Area:affected: E8
Points used: 11
Remaining points: 3
Effect:


 

Last edited by Garrettq; 06-10-2020 at 11:49 AM.
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  #94  
Old 06-10-2020, 01:33 PM
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Time
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Enthiwa was content with the growth of Mor the humans and the Short and Sturdy folk were contributing to the city's development and had taken his teachings to further improve themselves and their surroundings cause of that he thought that for such a great settlement they needed to learn to be independent and to make their own decisions and for that he would create a leader for them someone who could make them realize their own potential in this world someone that could lead them to greatness or someone that would corrupt Them but it had to be someone just like them.

That's when Enthiwa made his appearance in the middle of the plaza.

"People of Mor here I present to you another gift a gift of direction." getting closer to a young human Enthiwa touches him the Human shines brightly for a moment before turning back to normal.

"Mor folk!!! Dwarves!!! Here now I proclaim this young man right here will be your leader from know I give him the family name of Tahlmor he will lead you his children will lead you and the children of his children will lead you!! So teach him as I have taught you and raise him as I have raised you he will strive to become the best leader that he could and you will advise him into becoming a true monarch."

Everyone at first had their doubts but with time they started to understand that this made them depend less of the gods that this meant that also mortals could rule in this world time would tell if the city of Mor would thank Enthiwa for their Newfound leadership but meanwhile, everyone started to work on the city the first action of the new Monarch was to build a wall around Mor to truly make it a fortified city the stone collected from the mines made this feat possible the people of Mor recognized their first Monarch as someone who would do anything to keep the city of Mor safe cause of that the people of Mor came to give their first Monarch the name of the City he would always be remembered as Mor Tahlmor the first great Monarch of the city of Mor

OOC actions
Domains: Time, Death
Power points: 9
Power used: create avatar, Command avatar
The area affected: G9
Points used: 8
Remaining points: 1
Effect: Create Avatar: The Tahlmor dynasty they will be Kings and Queens of Mor they started as humans but the as the dynasty continues a Tahlmor could be of any race that lives in Mor

Command Avatar: Command city to build the High wall of Mor.
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  #95  
Old 06-10-2020, 06:09 PM
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Deception/BeastsThe Sixth, confident that the Conspiracy would survive, turned its attention towards its neglected son. It flew south of Mor, taking note of the new wall under construction, and saw how little walls could impede any beings flying over. Walls were not in its interest, however, and it continued its voyage southward.

Coming across the land of mud bubble huts and the canals that cut between them, where MaCroc had slept all those centuries before, it found its son, as he splashed around the mazes the canals had made, and played hide-and-seek and tag with the shadows cast by the huts. He called out to the spark in delight, as he had spent the past couple of centuries alone since the Fall, and proceeded to tell it all the tales of its adventures since then. The spark listened attentively at first, but over time, the stories begun to repeat themselves, as most of the young frogling's adventures had comprised of lazing by the riverside, skipping pebbles and watching the shadows shrink and grow. Though that is all the spark cared to give to the world, this was the spark's own child. He had to much potential to waste whiling away the days alone; he needed a purpose, goals and dreams, but more importantly, he needed a people to listen to his terrible stories, so that the spark would never have to suffer from this mindless drivel again.

"Child," it interrupted, and the frogling grew quiet. "You are lonely out here, are you not?"

"Yes, I am," he replied, eyes shining up at the spark. "But you are here now. I will have company."

"That is my worry, child, for I cannot stay. The world is still young and malleable, susceptible to my influence, and I need to make my mark while I can, before my brother burns it all down before him. I only came to make sure you were still safe, and to hear your, er, wonderful stories. But fret not," it stated, catching the fallen expression that had been cast across the young frogling's face. "I shall not leave you alone once again. No, this time, I shall give you playmates."

The frogling clapped with delight, and danced with glee, as the spark imbued its powers into the frogs that covered the landscape of the Misty Marsh. As time went on, the frogs grew in size, their backs straightening, their minds sharpening. They named their kind the Anura, after the sounds their ancestors made in greeting, and the frogling, who now went by Twigly, went amongst them, loudly declaring that, since he was the first to be risen out from the muck, by a couple of centuries at least, he should be the one to lead them. The spark heard Twigly's words and, scoffing at the mere idea, took Twigly aside to speak with him alone.

"You say you wish to lead these people, little Twigly, but you know not of the responsibilities that that would entail. Would you rather spend your days locked away in the dark, concerning yourself with the minutiae of the daily lives of your brethren, or would you rather continue to play in the sun and shade with them, passing the days in adventure and excitement? Let the Anura rule themselves, I say, for no one Anuran should ever feel themselves elevated above the Collective." And the young Twigly was in agreement.

As the Grung population grew, they began to settle into the mud bubbles that had been created by MaCroc all those years ago, swimming or using crudely carved logs to travel upon the canal system carved between the huts. Twigly was the one who came up with the name for the city, which he says came to him in a dream, whispered in his ear by the Sixth Spark itself, but in reality was probably nothing more than than the name of the animal class they had evolved from. And so, regardless of the origin behind his name, the great city of Amphibia was created, ruled by all its citizens, who would vote on important matters as they arose. In order that they would not forget their origins, and not forget to love, laugh, and play, the Purple Spark tasked Twigly to create a group within the Anura to promote those values, both within the Anura community itself and out in the world around them. In honour of him, they named themselves the Twiglets, though Twigly was quick to state that that didn't make him their leader, and he didn't even ask them to do that, so stop pestering him about it. Some of the Twiglets moved North towards Mor, while others followed the Lazy River westward, towards the Rookery and the fallen city of Dorcha; however, the majority of the Twiglets stayed put in Amphibia, enjoying their times of peace and plenty. The spark saw that they were happy and serene, and that filled it with joy and pride, as it took off to find what further mischief it could cause.




In Magurrmasch-Kov, the influx of lumber from beyond the impenetrable mountain range created a boom in ship design and production, and MaCroc was quick to task her Crocspawn with a place to put their newly created masterpieces of nautical design. At first, it was only a few piers and wharfs, but quickly, these grew to expand across nearly the entirety of their expansive shoreline, creating the MK Habour, a home for their growing fleet, and a beacon of hope for weary travelers who had survived the everlasting storms of the Inland Sea.

As time passed, there began to be a resentment from the loggers in the Eastern Forest towards the shipbuilders back home. They believed they had been deserted by MaCroc and ostracized by their peers, forced to live in hastily created hovels, and never receiving the glory for their fair share in the work. MaCroc felt this in her followers, for though time had passed, each of the Crocspawn still had a piece of her within them, and so she felt as they did. She brought towards her the leaders of the possible future rebellion, those amongst the loggers who were the most disgruntled with their lot in life. She bade them to speak honestly to her and, as she wore the Diadem of Truth, they found themselves compelled to do so, and so they began.

They spoke of the arduous work that went into felling the mighty trees, as they had grown unfettered for centuries, and through that grew strong and tall, some so strong and tall that it took many Crocspawn days just to fell one. They spoke of the wilderness around them, and the constant dangers they faced by living their lives there, in hastily constructed lean-tos that were often knocked over by roving beasts or the blustering winds blown in from the shore. They spoke of the blinding light that shone from the East, of those who had first spied it when it had first been grown from the ground, and how it had completely blinded them, and now they lived in fear of it, not knowing that that first moment of brilliance was a unique occurrence, instead convinced that they could never turn their eyes in the direction of the rising sun, and by that never again witness a sunrise. MaCroc heard their complaints, and what truth there were behind their words, and raised a scaled hand to give them pause.

You are correct, my children. I am sorry, I have been neglectful, and you have suffered. Your pain is now mine as well, and we shall share the work. To the faithful loggers, finish your tasks, and return to the city. Our warehouses fill with lumber, and yet we do no have enough hands to turn them to the beautiful ships you see floating in the harbour. Come home, and you shall learn to build these ships as well. You will not be needed among the trees anymore. So, come home, and let us celebrate your return like the heroes you are!

After this, she extended her voice to reach all of the Crocspawn, both at home and abroad. My children, the dangers of the Forest to the East claim too many of our kind. From now on, only our youth shall brave its dangers. Any among the youth who wish to learn the skills of shipcraft, this shall be your payment to the city. Let all who wish to learn under our Master Shipbuilders begin their apprenticeship with a gift, a gift of their time, of their labour, and possibly of their lives. All who wish to apprentice themselves must first spend 5 years in the Forest to the East. There, they will learn of the wood they will eventually master. There, they will grow in strength, both in body and in mind. There, they will struggle, but they will survive, and upon their return, they will be celebrated like the heroes they are. And so it was, and, upon the return of the nearly rebellious loggers, it is said that the celebrations, which lasted a full moon cycle, could be heard in the far-off locales such as Mor and Dorcha. And so it was that MaCroc stifled a rebellion among the Crocspawn, before it even grew legs long enough to walk.


ActionsDomains: Deception, Beasts
Power points: 10
Power used: Create Race, Command Avatar (Create City), Command Avatar (Command City (Build Port))
Area affected: Create Race, Command Avatar (Create City) - I9
Command Avatar (Command City (Build Port)) - E1
Points used: 6 + 1 + 1 = 8
Remaining points: 2
Effect (TL;DR Section): I9 - Created race of Anura, CG race. Free order is the Twiglets who preach in favour of love, laughter, and fun, most stayed at home, while some traveled to places like Mor, Dorcha, and the Rookery to promote their values. The Anura live in the city of Amphibia, in houses that are these giant hollowed out hardened mud bubbles, the city uses a canal system similar to Venice (I assume, I've never actually been) that the Anura either swim or use crudely crafted rafts on to travel from place to place.

E1 - Magurrmasch-Kov gains a Harbour that lines the majority of the coastline, where they keep their ships of increasingly masterful design. Instead of having a logger caste and a shipbuilder caste, future generations will first have to work in the woods as a logger for 5 years before they can become a shipbuilding apprentice, to better understand the wood they're working with, and to make sure that they actually have the resolve to follow it through. I kind of liken it to the Itamae in Japan, who need 5 years of training before they can even cook sushi rice. There will be a yearly celebration that will last a month, when the loggers return from their 5 year Loggership, as a sort of transition ceremony into their apprenticeship. Feel like that could be a fun storypoint.
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Last edited by abc123; 06-11-2020 at 05:22 PM. Reason: Fixing the flow of the writing, mainly
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  #96  
Old 06-11-2020, 11:32 PM
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Air
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The squabble for power and influence weighed heavily on Yesz'Gaea, her siblings bickering was nonsensical and wasteful. How could they have created so much, brought warmth to such a world only to throw it all away in fighting? Yesz'Gaea too had succumbed, being forced to cast down Briem from its shining beauty atop the islands had caused such sorrow, but she was glad to see it had its intended effect. Aonar's prideful wrath had been becalmed, Arcata's wise words had seen to that. Yesz'Gaea admired her brother's words and his creations, the peaceful tranquility of the elvenkind and the Memory Tree tugged at Yesz'Gaea's essence. While the embattled world sailed inexorably on, Yesz'Gaea found her solitude and peace at the foot of the tree, contemplating her own memories. Something bothered her, and she reached out on the winds to her brother, beckoning him to converse with her.

"Brother Arcata, hear my words. I wish to understand Chaos here in this world and in all others, though my sight is limited and clouded. The other gods form their own imaginations of Chaos' deepest desires, but you seem to have clarity and longevity where the rest play with the here and now. Come brother, let the Memory Tree hold our memories so that we may never forget the lessons we learn."

As Yesz'Gaea waited, she contemplated her own long-term desires. Safety, comfort, communication and co-ordination between herself and the other gods seemed paramount, but the world was becoming so busy now. The little creations that they had all made had begun to spill over each other, connecting and colliding in ways that she had never considered. There was much to consider with any command she might give, and she had to know that the other gods would be soon finding the same problems. Diplomacy is the answer...

Her heart warmed as Yesz'Gaea knew what to do. Reaching out through the thermals, she whispered to her people in Éadrom.

My beloved Devae, I have kept you safe from those that would cause you pain. I have created the perfect city for you, and given you pride of place amongst the thermals of the world. Yours is the command over the sky and no other. Yet this will not remain for all. You have great power in you, Arcata instilled this. You have a great sense of duty, that which Aonar bestowed. And you have flight, freedom and alacrity, that which I gave freely. You must use these skills for the future of our world. Technology will be granted to you, the power to build and develop engineering masterpieces so that others too may share in the bounty of the sky. Machines can be built, these small designs allow others to fly by your side. They will let the wind rush past their feet, feel it in their sails. It will not be forever, these momentary glimpses at the sky cannot be sustained with mechanical precision alone. In this you shall retain your ascendancy in your devotion to me. The power of flight may be limited for them, but endless for you. This power I give to you.

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Yesz'Gaea could feel their devotion, even as she sat underneath the Memory tree. Her heart swelled as her people took up arms, not in war, but in manufacturing. The other races of the world were so leaden-footed, they would never reach the heights her Devae would without help, and Yesz'Gaea's blessing would bring them this. Soon great constructs filled the city and the few visitors that were allowed into Éadrom were delighted to take to the sky alongside the Devae people.

Yet it was not enough, the mostly closed city of Éadrom was too aloof-this was for their safety, clearly, but the designs Yesz'Gaea had for the world pushed for more collaboration. Reaching out to her Avatar, Yesz'Gaea directed Eos'Itra to travel to all the cities of the world, distributing these contraptions. Eos'Itra-take these small devices that my people have built to the ends of the earth. Visit the humans and dwarves in Mor, the Twiglets in Amphibia. Travel to Magurrmasch-Kov and visit the crocspawn, that they may too feel the wind under their scales. Pay homage to the Elves and the Desert Giants and the Ratfolk. Become as one with the Craaben and deliver my gift to the world's people so that they may fly and be closer to their gods. We must heal and mend the broken edges of our creations, bring them closer together now. This I command, for all of the world.

Yesz'Gaea felt the acquiescence of her avatar as he began his journey. It would be some time before the confidence of the other peoples would fill the sky with their short bursts of flight, but Yesz'Gaea would be watching. Soon too, she commanded her Zephyr priests to travel to Mor directly, seeking diplomatic ties with the people there. The Avatar's gift had preceeded their mission, whether the humans would find the gift satisfactory, Yesz'Gaea did not know. But through the gift of the One Tongue, Yesz'Gaea commanded her order to reach out to the people who might yet lead this world. She admired their simple and short lifespan, marveling at their own creations as they forged a bright future. The dynasty now founded by Enthiwa was worthy of respect and admiration, and Yesz'Gaea's people ensured that would not go amiss.

Thus commanded, she rested once again, awaiting her brother. She settled back to her task, drifting between the branches of the Memory Tree, again reaching deep within her own mind to her formative time, basking in the radiance of her half-remembered memories.



OOC
Domains: Air
Power Points (round 6): 13
Power used: Advance Civilization (Éadrom), Command Order (Diplomatic) Command Avatar (Diplomatic)
Area affected: E3 (Advance Civilization - Aviation)
Points used: 9
Remaining points: 4
Effect: Advance Civilization in Éadrom to allow creation of blimps. Command Order (visit Mor and pay homage to the dynasty of kings and queens there), Command Avatar to deliver the magic stave devices to the other civilizations across the world.
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Last edited by pianoman90; 06-12-2020 at 08:19 AM.
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  #97  
Old 06-19-2020, 10:03 PM
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The TitansThe second century was a quiet one for the gods. Gê and Phanês continued to landscape as Tártaros looked on.
2nd Century 2nd Age
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  #98  
Old 06-20-2020, 04:07 AM
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Time
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The gift that the Devae had given to the city if Mor had been magnanimous all of the people of Mor stood in awe as the giant flying ship flew over the city some were even scared of the giant flying contraption only to be soon followed by a Devaen Envoy this certainly impressed the leader of Mor so he asked for direction from his god the only words that he got back from his communing was that time nor death discriminates and neither should he the truth is that with his past history with the Devae even Enthiwa was impressed by the sudden gift but he welcomes any mortal with open arms this act of kindness had certainly put both cities in good terms.

As time went by and both humans and dwarves explored the mountains to know where to strike the earth next and that's how with a pick in the right place by an innocent dwarf they discovered a little burrow inside the burrow there were a lot of small people even smaller than the dwarf that's how after a lot of dialogue the gnomes reached the surface in little time they joined the city as tinkerers, investors, engineers and other professions this was done by lagni the first gnome that upon reaching Mor was fascinated by the giant flying ship with permission of the Tahlmor nobility they have been studying and researching it since they saw it trying to replicate it since then Lagni has made many minors inventions for the city of Mor and acquired many followers along the way that tried to reproduce the ship while also trying to make their own inventions that's how lagni's tinkering guild a group enthusiast that cared to create many more inventions maybe one day creating something as grand as the flying ship.

With the city's non-stopping growth Enthiwa decided that it was about time to create another figure of guidance by the for the people of Mor in the same fashion that he has appeared before this time he appeared in front of his most ardent believer in the city her name now totally irrelevant as everyone would refer to her in the city as The prophet aside from the Tahlmor dynasty this was the only other person that could commune directly with Enthiwa some speculate that this human could even see into the future but what was truly important is that she would become the most prominent religious figure that the city of Mor could have her influence in the city, was only second to the Tahlmor dynasty itself but just as the Tahlmor the prophets were not eternal with the death of one prophet another had to be chosen and for this a Morian woman had to make a Pilgrimage to the newly named by the Morian people Tunc' Amnis the waters if time that Enthiwa had created to leave his first mark on the world

OOC actions
Domains: Time, Death
Power points: 13
Power used: Create race, Create Avatar
Area affected: G9
Points used: 13
Remaining points: 0
Effect:
Create race: Create the gnomes (rock)
Free Order: Lagni's Tinkering guild: A guild mostly composed of gnomes but that anyone can join they a member doesn't have to be a Morian citizen their main focus right now is creating as many innovative inventions as possible with its main goal being the creation of their own flying ship. (Imagine they are like the Izzet league from Ravnica)

Create Avatar: Enthiwa's Prophet a female that can directly speak to Enthiwa after a whole week of prayer the first Prophet is Human but it can be from any race as long as the woman has been born in Mor or in the Tunc Amnis the waters of time Every time that a prophet dies the next one will be chosen between the one that is considered a saint or the most ardent of enthiwa's believers then she has to walk a pilgrimage to the waters of time to be blessed by the Waters
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  #99  
Old 06-20-2020, 11:08 AM
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In gameOver the decades the greatest of the military fortresses built to stave off the Fokuma became a proper city in itself. As soldiers families, tourists, and visiting foreigners continued to stop through it. This fortress, Moric, was built right on the lake front and above the surface, to strike fear into the hearts of any raiders coming ashore, while it was ineffective in that regard, it found another purpose. For traders and explorers of all different races came ashore upon this beacon. Foreign goods, and exotic food especially, were traded for the mineral wealth of the Jurad, or else the services of their guardians. It became a common practice in this time to 'buy' a Dessert Giant mercenary. Rather what was done was the soldiers commander was paid a hefty sum to give an order, obey everything thing this person tells you, unless of course it endangers us or the Jurad.

This had a negative side effect. The First Flesh saw her precious children torn apart inside over the conflict of obedience and honor. For many times they were ordered to attack by surprise, to kill anyone they found within a town, to use those cowardly ranged weapons. The First Flesh knew something must be done. The answer was obvious, as she had already been displeased with how her children did business with the envoys, giving steep discounts as a kindness, practically giving away food to those who needed it, risking their lives to defend foreigners when there was no gain! They didn't put their own kind first, and this was unacceptable. So the First Flesh hardened their hearts, ensuring her children would value order, obedience, and above all their people.

She was pleased by this but there was another problem. Moric needed a great standing army on the off chance of invasion, but there was no day to day danger. To ensure her children never forgot the stench or sight of death, she ordered a great colliseum to be built into the earth. A pit of death where slaves, captured beasts, the desperately impoverished, and the desperately bored soldiers would slaughter each other for coin and glory.

The First Flesh looked over her creations, and rested once more.



OOCDomains: Fertility and Earth
Power Points: 13
Power used:
Command race: Create a city on E8
Command avatar-command race-Create grand Colosseum on E8
Command Race: raise a second army
Corrupt Race: (dessert Giants to Lawful Neutral)

Area:affected: E8
Points used: 12
Remaining points: 1
Effect:

Last edited by Garrettq; 06-20-2020 at 11:08 AM.
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  #100  
Old 06-20-2020, 02:35 PM
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SalmonMax SalmonMax is offline
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ArcataAfter a long age of rest...having expended much of herself in the act of creating not just a new people but a new avatar...Arcata stirred within the luminant orb of the sun and responded to her brother's call. She manifested before him, shining and resplendent.

"Yesz'Gaea, why do you call? Please excuse my delay...I had exerted myself greatly and needed to rest."

Meanwhile she divided her awareness and reached out to the elves of the wood, in their treetop city of Arborast. Their lives were of toil, as they had to work the wood by hand, and tried not to damage the trees unduly in the process. Even with the guidance of the Tree, their path was difficult for they lacked an essential tool. Arcata therefore brought forth the knowledge that like called to like...the chaos of magic to the chaos of life. As one shaped the other, so too could it be shaped.

The Treeshapers were the elves who felt this most deeply; who had the gift for the magic that Arcata taught. By their magic they could coax the forest to grow into the shapes of homes, of bridges, of stairs...allowing the forest to sustain them without having to be damaged in the process.

And even as she valued harmony, Arcata also saw the danger of humans and dwarves pressing into the mountains that bordered her Garden. She conferred with the Memory Tree and told him to begin organizing the elves. Preparing them to defend the Garden, should it be needed. That done, Arcata came to Macrisse atop the Sunpeak and bade him begin to organize the elves of the heights. Gather their far flung homes and retreats into a city in the mountain. A city named Whitespire.



OOC ActionsDomains: Sorcery and Sun
Power Points: 16
Powers used:
- Create Order (Treeshapers)
- Advance Civilization (Wood Elves advanced in 'green' magic)
- Command Avatar (commands Arborast to create army)
- Command Avatar (founds city of Whitespire at the great mountain in E5)

Area affected: D6 and other wood elves, E5
Points used: 15
Remaining points: 1
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  #101  
Old 06-21-2020, 11:36 AM
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Command, Passion
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True to his Oath, Aonar remained silent for one hundred years. He saw with concern the growing hunger for flesh, blood, food and the treasures of the earth, the rejection of his gifts, the raids and ambushes of the children of the other gods. At the same time he saw with pleasure as cities were founded, grew and thrived, great institutions of order in a world of chaos, wise leaders rising to guide their people, diplomacy and trade improving relations between the different races.

True to his nature and conscience, Var’halon stayed in Dorcha, witnessing each new generation of cursed Craaben and the original Devae as they strove to make a living in that cursed place. Pain, sorrow, despair were the emotions that wrecked his body. Pride, envy, wrath, lust, greed, gluttony and sloth, the seven sins he witnessed in those around him that numbed his spirit. But in time he came to see more than just vice and anguish. He also came to know the hearts of those who had sinned but longed for purity, those who had wronged others and sought their forgiveness, those who had once been proud but chose to embrace humility. The path was difficult but at its end awaited peace of mind, purity of heart and hope for a better future. He would walk this path alongside them and support them in any way he could. Thus was born the Order of Silence from those who let their actions rather than words speak for them, actions guided by mercy and compassion.

Having learnt all he could inhaling the poisonous air of Dorcha, Var’halon left the city, intent to visit every race and tribe, every settlement and city, every sacred site and forgotten patch of wilderness of Maera. He would listen to what others told him and nod in understanding. He would accept what he was given and not ask for more. He would suffer the wounds that were inflicted upon him and not complain. Those who wanted to follow him were welcome. Those who did not would be in his thoughts and prayers. He sought the depths of sin and the peak of virtue, that was his calling, that was the service he would do his father, that was his duty towards the people of the world.

Aonar saw the actions of his son and the purity of his heart and was proud of him and at the same time shamed. Where his son was actively learning the hearts and minds of the gods‘ creations, he had been idle, waiting for others to do his job for him. He was no closer to understanding the nature of Order and Chaos and everything in between than he had been a hundred years ago and Arcata’s words would forever echo in his ears. …It is a constant cycle of formation, preservation, and dissolution. Nothing that happens here will cause Order to disappear forever, brother. Because Chaos contains ALL possibility, including the possibility of a lack of Chaos.

Dressed in robes of ash, Aonar’s bare feet brought him to one of the oases near the Pillars of Exile. The god kneeled and observed the tiny flowers growing among the grass next to the life-giving lake surrounded by sand. The mortals call such flowers „daisies“ because each one of them resembles the rest but in truth they are all different. Each is unique, bearing the mark of Chaos. Instead of a group of equals I see only individuals. One taller, another shorter, one more beautiful, another less, one more resilient to the sun, another doomed to wither under ist fiery gaze. Where is the justice in that? Why can’t Order reign supreme and forever banish Chaos? At least in this corner of the world? It can and I will!

Longing for purity and perfection Aonar willed all daises to wilt and die. From their remains he crafted a new one, a symmetrical and perfect one and once pleased with what he saw, he multiplied it. Now he had a thousand identical daisies arranged in a symmetrical pattern, all tall, all beautiful, all resilient, all perfect, all… boring. The words of his Sibling came to mind. Brother, you are so… What’s the word? What is it? …BORING! Right, boring! His Sibling’s words had been childish and insulting but also… true. Perfect Order was boring and what was worse was that it was also unchanging, self-absorbed, sterile. What he sought was not Order devoid of Chaos after all, it was orderly Chaos! Perhaps he had been a god of perfect, unchanging, eternal order at first but now… now his passionate heart would not allow him to be content with something that would not evolve, would not improve, something unliving. He was wrong to seek Chaos‘ utter destruction. He had to work with it, bind it to his Will and Rules, but leave its innate potential intact, just like his Sister had done since the very Beginning. Closing his eyes, Aonar changed the daisies once more, made them different, less symmetrical, less beautiful but more alive. They all had to obey the natural laws of the world, just like all living beings, and yet one of them could still surprise him by becoming something the others were not.

Pleased with this revelation, Aonar walked further until his feet touched the salty water of the sea, just opposite of the Pillars of Exile. Feeling indescribable joy but still bound by his oath of silence, Aonar picked up a conch shell and sung in it, then threw it far away, letting the waves devour it. Once touching the seabed, the melodious song of the conch shell reverberated and the innate magic of the god’s voice turned the underwater streams into a race of sea-people. The Songborn resembled humans with bluish or greenish skin, scales, webbed fingers, both gills and lungs, and finned, serpentine tails in place of legs. They had powerful, melodious voices and communicated among themselves with a sing-song speech, perfectly suited to a life beneath the waves. The wisest and most powerful among them, the „Wavesingers“, devoted to replicating the divine Voice of Aonar, sought to use the power of music and song to change the world around them, tending it like an underwater garden, seeking to nurture all living creatures and perfect all unliving things in their domain.

The god looked at his newborn children and smiled. They seemed to know what their destiny was and took pride in it. Turning his head to the north, the god saw the badlands to the northwest. That would be his next goal. With slow, deliberate steps, he left the coast and desert sands and entered the fertile farmland shaped by the Sixth.


OOC actionsDomains: Command, Passion
Power points: 19
Power used: Command Avatar: Create Order, Create Race
Area affected: I5, I3
Points used: 3 + 6
Remaining points: 10
Effect: Var’halon founds the „Order of Silence“, open to all races. Create the „Songborn“ („Tritons“ statistics, lawful good) and their „Order of Wavesingers“.
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  #102  
Old 06-21-2020, 04:49 PM
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Deception/BeastsThe three cities of Magurrmasch-Kov, Amphibia, and the Rookery were all recipients of the airships of Eadrom, and yet, despite all having their origins with the Sixth Spark, all had varying reactions to their new technology.

In Magurrmasch-Kov, the initial arrival of the airships over the mountains were met with fear and trepidation. They had been cut off by land from the rest of the world for so long, they were sure that the mountains were their surest form of protection from the various dangers the world had to offer, so the arrival of airships that traversed that terrain without any difficulty was some cause for concern.

To assuage these fears, MaCroc rose to be the first to welcome them, and before the Crocspawn could rise to arms and destroy their gifts, she spoke with the ambassador who had arrived with them, and learned of their message of peace. And thus she spoke to her followers, her voice reverberating in each of their minds.

Do not fear the gifts from our cousins over the mountains, for, just as you are descendants of the Sixth and Fourth, so too do they come from the First, Second, and Third. They are your cousins, as much as those who didn't stay in Magurrmasch-Kov remain your cousins. The third sends us these so that we may understand flight, just as they do, and take to the skies, just as we currently take to the seas. Let us use these ships of the air to our fullest advantage, and let us send gifts in return. Let us aid them in mastering the seas, as they have aided us in mastering the air.

And so, to show her support of her own plan, as well as to incite support from others, MaCroc was the first to travel by airship in Maguurmasch-Kov. She rode it first to the logging camp, leaving Magurrmasch-Kov for the first time since its inception, and saw fully the extent of difficulties they faced. Realizing the amount of lumber that was being lost due to accidents at sea, they began to establish air routes between the city and the outpost, increasing their lumber production, and creating a third group within the Crocspawn: the Deckhands, who transported basic necessities to the Foresters in their camps and lumber back to the Shipwrights in Magurrmasch-Kov.

To balance the growing number of professions that were coming out of Magurrmasch-Kov, and to acknowledge the equal important they all had in Magurrmasch-Kov, MaCroc began the League of PATHFINDERS. It was meant to encompass all current jobs, and future jobs that she saw might spin out of them, and stood to manage all Pirates, Adventurers, Treasure Hunters, Foresters, Intelligentsia, Navigators, Deckhands, Envoys, Rogues, and Shipwrights the world over. Any would be allowed to join their ranks, though they were not meant to encompass all who held those professions throughout the world, only those who would use their talents to further the League and ensure the contiued success of Magurrmasch-Kov.

While the Deckhands began officially in the air, the skills they acquired were melded with those they had learned on the treacherous seas, leading to incredible advances in sailing for all of the Crocspawn, bother by sea and by air. As time passed, the Deckhands began to voyage further into the Inland Sea, and, using their skills, began to use the eternal storms to their advantage. Initially just for exploration, they eventually made landings in Eadrom, to stay true to their promise of delivering quality sea ships in return for the gift of flight. Some of those who initially landed in Eadrom found the town to their liking, and established a diplomatic base there, both to teach the people of Eadrom how to best use their new ships, as well as to learn as much as they could from this new race they had never encountered before. These became the Envoy class of the PATHFINDERS, further confirming MaCroc's ability to accurately guess the way her people will progress, and they opened their doors and membership to all who cared to learn their ways. And so the Crocspawn of Magurrmasch-Kov turned what might have been an intense war between two growing powers into a continuing peace between the two neighbouring cities.




In Amphibia, the airships were met initially with much glee. While Amphibia and the surrounding Misty Marshes had held their attention in the beginning, the days of lazing on the riverside had left the Anura bored, the true enemy of any who came from the Sixth Spark, so they reveled in the ability to take to the skies and change the scenery. However, even that could not pique their interest for long, as lazing in the sky isn't that much different from lazing on the shore, and many began to wish for the simple days before they had evolved. Their days of inaction found themselves in perpetual conflict with their biological need to be constantly in action, and the airships had done nothing more than remind them of that base desire.

Twigly saw this need in his people. While he would be content to spend his days on the riverbank skipping stones, he had had more experience with the art of doing nothing, and even then he wouldn't be fully content or fulfilled if he wasn't also pulling pranks and tricks on his fellow Anura. And that was when the, possibly, greatest prank of all time, at least that he had seen, began to formulate in his mind. It would change how the Anura behaved, how they thought, and it could entirely backfire, but he would still have to give it a try.

He didn't care to change those who didn't wish to change, so he looked and asked among the Anura, to find those who were the most displeased and dissatisfied with the lives they currently lived. He spoke to them, and bade them to leave the city, to begin life anew in the Misty Marshes. These people were not satisfied with Twigly's plan, feeling shunted aside for mere voicing displeasure with the way life had turned out for them, and chose to ignore him, They began to reintegrate back into the village, but they lived with more malice in their hearts and souls now, especially towards Twigly and, by association, the Twiglets.

This malice was what Twigly drew upon, increasing its poisonous intent through small japes and biting remarks, until the poison seemed to seep from their very skin. Finding less and less joy in their regular lives, their tongues became as useless as the majority of other species, as they no longer cared to use them for charming their way through problems or grabbing something from across the room. No, they reasoned. If I was meant to have that thing, I would take it, by my own hands. Gradually, these other Anura, who felt increasingly that they resided in a place they could never belong, began to grow envious of those among the Anura who still seemed to enjoy their carefree lifestyle, hating them for living lives they could no longer enjoy themselves. They now craved order and structure, as they now believed that there were some who were inherently better than others, just by virtue of birth and by thought. And if the Anura could not see that themselves, they would show them.

Gradually, they began to disappear into the Misty Marshes, capturing former friends and family members to take with them. They meant to enslave them, indoctrinate them, and gradually, once their number grew enough, their plan was to take back Amphibia, and later the world. The Anura, in turn, noticed their numbers gradually dwindling, but assumed that their brethren were simply traveling or just exploring. Amphibia had always been a place to come and go freely, so the concept of enslavement was completely foreign to them, at least until the first escapees of the new group returned, and told their stories.

They told of the Grung, as they now called themselves, who appeared first to them as family and friends, but quickly revealed themselves to be too far changed to hold those titles anymore. They kept those they capture in small cages made from local flora, and forced them to work for them, in between sermons on the value of structure in society. They believed certain of their own members were better than others, just based on the colour of their skin, and none of them questioned it, even those of lower caste. They had lost use of their tongues, but now secreted this poison they used to hunt and prove their domination over the local fauna. They were, in short, the absolute worst, so the Anura began to restructure their lives. They knew the Misty Marshes as well as the Grung did, and began to run missions, at first to save their compatriots, but sometimes just to prank the Grung. After all, you will always get a bigger reaction out of an uptight Grung than you would off of a carefree Anura, and half the fun is the reaction.

Twigly saw the progress, and, while it had made him sad to transform the Grung, he saw the passion and drive in the Anura that hadn't existed before, as well as in the Grung. Whereas once they had enjoyed mindless days, now the Anura found new joy in having actual dangerous stakes for their games, and grew in their trickster abilities as a result. Simultaneously, the Grung found their new lease in life to be capturing the Anura and any others who wandered into the Misty Marshes, espousing their new doctrine to all they forced to listen. Both the Anura and the Grung fully enjoyed their new roles in the South, and, as there was no undue bloodshed, Twigly found himself happy the Greatest Prank had gone off without a hitch.




In the Rookery, the Craaben who had remained were angry at the arrival of the airships. What had been meant as a gift, they saw as a mockery of their current flightless state. "First, they take our wings, then they send these ships, as if to mock us, knowing we could never take to the skies ourselves again!" These voices became the loudest in the Rookery, and any small effort the Gods had made to aid them after the Fall were ignored and forgotten, in favour of this newest supposed affront to them.

The Sixth Spark, in its wanderings, had heard the voices calling from the birthplace of the Conspiracy, and saw in it another opportunity for some fun. And so it went amongst the Craaben and, with its insidious whisperings, got into their minds, and began thoughts in some of them. Yes, let's take these apart. Yes, find how they work. And then, yes, we will build our own wings, and take to the skies on our own merit. Once we understand how the Gods have done it, so too can we do it!

And with that, the spark stood back, and watched as the Craaben began to dismantle the flying behemoths, to better understand their workings. And it waited, and watched, until the Craaben needed its help again. It owed them that much, to help them take to the skies again.


ActionsDomains: Deception, Beasts
Power Points: 11
Power used: Command Avatar (Create Order (League of PATHFINDERS (Pirates, Adventurers, Treasure Hunters, Foresters, Intelligentsia, Navigators, Deckhands, Entrepreneurs, Rogues, and Shipwrights))), Advance Civilization (Crocspawn: Sailing), Command Order (Establish diplomatic ties between Eadrom and Magurrmasch-Kov), Command Avatar (Create Subrace (Grung))
Area affected: Command Avatar (Create Order): E1
Advance Civilization (Sailing): E1
Command Order (Diplomacy): E3
Command Avatar (Create Subrace): Started in I9, now not in I9 specifically, but with small outposts in I8 and I7
Points used: 1 + 5 + 3 + 1
Remaining points: 1
Effect (TL;DR): The League of PATHFINDERS (Pirates, Adventurers, Treasure Hunters, Foresters, Intelligentsia, Navigators, Deckhands, Entrepreneurs, Riffraff, and Shipwrights) was created in Magurrmasch-Kov in encompass all the different jobs that are necessary for the Crocspawn to continue to thrive. While the League started in Magurrmasch-Kov amongst the Crocspawn, membership is open to any who choose to join, as long as their willing to learn the proper techniques. They currently have their Headquarters in Magurrmasch-Kov, with an outpost in Eadrom.

The Crocspawn, through sailing their own vessels and the new airships, have mastered sailing, and have developed a close diplomatic relationship with the residents of Eadrom.

The Grung has been created as a subrace of the Anura. These beings are LE, opposed to the Grung's CG nature, and have a strict caste system and a slavery-based economy. They are created as direct opponents to the Anura, but would be the enemy of any race who values their freedom. Their prime directive is to indoctrinate all those them come across into their way of life, and eventually take back Amphibia, which they will use as a headquarters in their bid to take over the world. As it stands though, the Anura are much too slippery an opponents for them to even succeed in the first stage of their plan.
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  #103  
Old 06-22-2020, 10:57 PM
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Air
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Yesz'Gaea cast her mind out into the winds of the world, observing all her envoys reception. For the most part she was pleased-the world had accepted her and her people's gesture, and peace would prosper with greater communication and travel channels. Her mind darkened, sorrow filling her thoughts as she viewed the Craaben's destruction of her gift, though she could see why they would do such a thing. The mockery of their broken wings would serve as a constant reminder of the fickleness of the gods and the independence that they sought would not be forced away from them.

Arcata soon came to join her, the wise sister of sorcery appearing before Yesz'Gaea for her long awaited conversation. Smiling, the goddess addressed her sister with warmth and enthusiasm.

"Arcata! Your tree has borne witness to so many memories already, it is a true marvel of this world! I applaud your skills and creativity. I wished to speak with you for the betterment of my own mind, as well as that of the world. We are but seven humble sparks, born out of the void, changing the world as we see fit, but to what end? Where does this lead for us?" Yesz'Gaea paused briefly, holding out a hand as the breeze slowly drifted around her.

"We create, we change, we grow and destroy all around us to further our needs and spread our influence. Yet we still seem to act in small sections of the world at a time, never embracing the whole of the world and all its beauty. I see my brothers and sisters creating life everywhere, some burrowing deep, others soaring in the skies. I too have fallen prey to the capricious lustre of power and dominion over aspects of this world. Gone are the innocent times, shaping the land and skies to create things of wonder. The world has rolled on, taking our creations kicking and screaming with it."

The goddess of air began wrapping air currents around herself, a swirling mass of mist coalescing into a single shape: the visage of the Craaben. "Here is my greatest sorrow-the cursed people in the fallen city. They have abandoned their gods who so blessed them to begin with... US!" The final word was punctuated by the destruction of the ghostly image, the mist scattered in every direction. "We allowed Chaos in, Aonar's volatility and our own dispassionate responses condemned them and the Devae were nearly consumed entirely. They feel rejected, mocked and they find no solace in Dorcha. WE caused this, and it fills me with sorrow."

Eos'Itra appeared before the goddesses, the supplicant Avatar holding a model of the sea ships that the Crocspawn had returned to Éadrom. Smiling, Yesz'Gaea took the small model and dismissed Eos'Itra with a gentle wave. She twirled it in the air in front of Arcata, admiring its craftsmanship from every angle.

"Yet we can change. We have the power to do great things, and you yourself were able to change Aonar's rigidity and help shape the First's views. Consider the ships-they remain simple tools of travel, connecting these great nations together. Our people, ALL our people can continue to thrive in this world, so long as we have our long-reaching vision clear. The people of the Elven kingdoms, replete with magical energies for all things natural, can bring beautiful natural things. My own Devae in Éadrom can continue to search the stars and skies, reaching ever more towards the heavens. The varied people of Mor dig down and find such treasures this world has not yet seen. Yet I see disorder still, a closed world, perhaps of fine feelings and grand designs, but shut off nevertheless. Armies rise, kingdoms prepare for defense. This does not need to be the way."

"Even now, Eos'Itra approaches the others. We seven have not met since the dawn of time, even then we were young and mercurial, never collecting together except by random circumstance. Aonar, myself and you created such beauty by working together and we must now band once more." The winds whipped around Yesz'Gaea as passion grew in her voice. "Just think of the things we could do, the obstacles we could overcome, if we unified our approach. Imagine the structures, the creations, the tenets we could set down so that this world - OUR world - could be exactly as we desire."

"I came to you, Arcata, for I believe you have the most clear mind of us all. Will you come? Will you meet at the Seven-Spired Throne and choose a direction for this world?" Hope filled Yesz'Gaea's eyes as she watched her sister.




Eos'Itra had his mandate, whispered on the wind once more. He was to travel to each of the kingdoms again and offer more for the furtherance of his goddess' design. He created another diplomatic party even as Yesz'Gaea's own powers augmented and strengthened diplomatic abilities within her Devae people. Fashioning 6 gilded boxes, Eos'Itra dispersed them amongst the leaders of the party and, along with the Box of Zephyrs, they began a second pilgrimage to all the gods' lands.

Pilgrimage of the DevaeTo Mor they traveled, paying homage to the mountain folk and granting Yesz'Gaea's blessing to them as they dug deep into the earth.

To the City of Slumber they awoke the sleeping God of Night and honored his nocturnal brethren with darkness-bound plants.

To the Elven kingdom and the Memory Tree the envoys visited, bringing tribute to match the bright effervescence of Arcata's chosen.

To the Trio of Cities, Magurrmasch-Kov, Amphibia, and the Rookery the Devae found the various life forms and bestowed a portion of Yesz'Gaea's power to each-wind for the sails in Magurrmasch-Kov, gentle thermals to test individual flight in the Rookery and breeze in the Misty Marshes to stir the life both above and below the waters.

To Moric the Avatar led the Devae down into the mercenary camps, visited the armies and bestowed the temporary gift of alacrity to the feet of the Desert Giants and the Ratmen, their steps light and effortless as they trained and prepared.

Finally, to the world's newest people, Aonar's Songborn, the envoys visited. That they had such voices, borne out of silence from their creator and the First brother was not lost on the Avatar. Theirs was the gift of distance, for the briefest of time, their voices carried far through the water, echoing and carried through the water to reach the far corners of the seas.

All these visits carried Yesz'Gaea's message. The box that contained her power sweetened the pot, but the letter that accompanied them all called her brothers and sisters together for the first time. The words spiraled in the air as the gods or their followers read them, imprinted deep into the minds of those who witnessed the event.
Letter to the godsBrothers, sisters. Hear my call-we have never met together as the Seven and so our world has grown apart from one another. The Seven-Spired Throne was a unifying force too quickly cast aside, we must return to this landmark and plan our future together. Come yourselves, send your Avatars or your people and we shall discuss great things together.




OOCIf it is impossible to gift points any more like this I understand, Yesz'Gaea can hold onto those points for later or likely command her order to create observatories throughout Éadrom instead. The gifts bestowed are RP value things only, nothing mechanical at all, but if the power points are allowed to be gifted then enjoy Yesz'Gaea's blessing!


Domains: Air
Power Points (round 6): 18
Power used: Advance Civilization (Devae race - masters of diplomacy), Command Avatar (Command City - Éadrom), Gift points (1 to each other god), Shape Climate (Calm the winds around the Seven-Spired throne)
Area affected: E3 (Advance Civilization), E3 (Command Avatar), various (Gift points), F7 (Shape Climate)
Points used: 5 + 1 + 6 + 4 = 16
Remaining points: 2
Effect: Devae become masters of diplomacy (mechanically it would be nice to give the Devae people a +2 diplomacy bonus, but not necessary), the Avatar takes an envoy of the Devae to every god's home city or main base of operations carrying a gift-a box containing 1 power point from Yesz'Gaea's stored power. The climate around the Seven-spired throne returns to calm winds, clear skies.
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Old 06-24-2020, 12:56 PM
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Aonar heard his Sister’s summons when the Wavesingers chose to sing the words of the invitation to him, their voice easily carrying over the sea, the desert and the farmland, augmented by the power of Yesz’Gaea. A meeting of all gods, finally! It is good that our gentle Sister invites us to attend. Most would never answer my call. Not surprising, perhaps. A request is more likely to be answered than an order.

Putting a temporary end to his pilgrimage of sorts, Aonar willed himself to appear next to the Broken Throne. Within moments his form manifested before High Queen Tiali, who was sitting upon her throne of power, her throne of emptiness. "Lord!", exclaimed Tiali, surprised at his unexpected appearance. "You visit me at last! This is not what you have promised me. I am High Queen in name only. I wait and I observe but neither do I command nor do I shape the world. I thirst for change but you have doomed me to an eternity of uselessness and boredom. Why? I am tired of this existence. I wish I had joined the other heroes in proving my worth against beasts and tyrants. Death is better than lack of purpose." Aonar said nothing. The High Queen was right. Who knew of Tiali? Who followed her will and did her bidding? Not even the descendants of the humans who had known her personally, not even the newer generations of the Order of Heroes. A silent god was her only companion, a bad companion. Aonar placed his forefinger first upon his lips, then next to his right ear. Stay silent and listen to what will be said.

The god clapped his hands and seven thrones appeared, one for each of the gods. Aonar had thought of fashioning them after everything the other gods held dear, but he knew that they would find cause to ridicule and complain, transform or breake them to better suit the ideals in their heads and hearts. Thus, the thrones that rose from the ground were identical, simple seats of earth and rock to symbolize Maera, the world they had jointly created. Aonar sat upon the one closest to him, the first of the semicircle facing the Broken Throne, and waited. Who knew if his Siblings would actually appear. If not, it would not be his fault this time.


OOC actionsJust roleplaying.
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Old 06-24-2020, 09:18 PM
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The TitansWhile the landscaping of the north continued, Gê asks Tártaros, "So how are the mortals behaving. Any wars break out yet?"

Tártaros: "Unfortunately no, no wars at all. In fact except for the Grung they are all playing nice with each other. I like the Grung. Slavery, caste system, oppression. Ordered evil- not the chaotic everyone stick a knife in your back evil."

Phanês: "You would like that. Why is it so wrong for people to get along?"

Tártaros: "Nothing WRONG about people getting along. But face it, without somebody stirring the pot it's rather boring. Don't you agree Gê?"

Gê: "Good, evil- who cares. As long as they have a healthy respect for nature, there is no need for me to intefere. Of course, the evil ones are a bit more likely to do something to invoke my wrath."
3rd Century 2nd Age
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