Lords of Creation: Sheltering Darkness (IC Thread)

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A sigh.

"Yes, I suppose you do," came the voice of Eago.

The characteristic red robes of the servant folded out of the air. His steps may have always been there, lurking at the edge of hearing, awaiting the whim of his master. They say a servant is always in step with him master.

"Shall I record it here, Master?" he asked calmly, "Record that pact? Yes, I think I shall."

He produced a quill from his robes, which hovered in the air before him, scratch-scratching away at a piece of bark. Already the square of pale brown glowed with golden, arcane sigils. He added a line.

"Still doesn't seem right," he sighed and stowed the implements away, "But to our next manner of business. It seems you have a request of me?"
Altair tilted his head and looked at Eago.

"I met a very... strange being not long ago, Eago."

 described the horror that was Kyoaag N'gaas:  the spiraled arms, the glowing lights, the thousand thousand eyes, the voice that grated across your heart and left you gasping for air.

"It terrified me, Eago.  Me, the Sightblinder!"

 watched Eago's face.

"But you knew all that already, didn't you?  I won't ask how.  I trust you as much as I trust anything, after all.  Regardless, the crux of the matter is this:  At one point, that Distant Watcher... well, he threatened violence to all sorts of things, including you, including Vega, and then spoke strangely of my children.  I must protect them.   I wish you to write up a Pact that those of like mind can become signatories of and declare that they will protect one another from any agression from the edges of reality."

Altair is proposing the creation of a pantheon

Altair then turned to look at Sericea below, smiling at the Wood and knowing that his grandson was behind it.  He hated this entire world, each portion of it, but he still felt a paternal joy at seeing the handiwork of his children and grandchildren.

The same could not be said of his own handiwork.

"We should do something about that,"  he muttered, waving towards the blasted mountain below.  "Destroy it or something.  Its an eyesore, all alone like that." 
While the Twins might appear to be older, they still weren't proper adults, not like Altair. Their bodies needed filling out and their minds were still mastered by a maddening sense of curiosity. With their relatives otherwise preoccupied, the Twins found themselves once again by the shores.

Vasa had found a stick and was unceremoniously prodding a dire toad. The creature in question was not particularly alive, but it didn't seem injured either. She understood that things tended to eat other things in order to survive. That seemed to be a hold-over from when she and Vion had played with their toys as children: each created a "creature" and had them attack the others. Back in the time between the ticks and the tocks, a creature died either by injury or by the twins no longer paying attention to it. Here in Time, life was able to endure without their direct attention, but this? This seemed to be something else.

"What do you think caused it to not-live?" Vasa asked her brother.

"I am not entirely sure. Shall we take a look inside?" he responded.

Vasa nodded her head and the twins began to dissect the creature. The skin seemed fine, and the muscles, although perhaps a little lack luster, also seemed decent. The bones had a number of breaks, but those had seemed to heal. Through the organs and goo the gods sorted and evaluated, but at the end found no good reason that the creature had stopped living. It was just a bunch of minor issues. The heart was a little weak, the brain was a little slow, the liver was a little fatty. In seemed to have just sort of...

"Worn out?" Vion offered as an explanation.

"I... think so," Vasa replied, trying to comprehend the strange concept.

"Maybe we just didn't make life well enough?"

"Perhaps. Shall we try something else?"


"Well... it seems like it this had problems with becoming too weak. Maybe we should try to make something stronger?"

The twins nodded in agreement and set to work. They took a lizard and began to cause it to grow stronger and larger.


0PP - Cantrip: Reptiles have already been made, but here the twins are specifically making crocodiles and the sort.

The Wood was made. The Wood that would stand for eternity, and which would be the original for every wood, and forest, and jungle to follow. It would always be The Wood, always be worth of being a proper known. For a time, Althas simply cherished the moment, laughing as he spun around looking up at the leaf canopy and scrambled up and down trees. But after a while... he knew he had more work to do. Not for The World. She was content for now, sighing happily at having her leafy crown completed. No, this was for himself...

His parents had told him to become strong, as had his Grandfather. He wanted to do them proud. But it was more than that... instinctively, he knew they were right. He could FEEL that he needed to be strong. No, Strong. The child seemed to have a penchant for making names for things, but... Strong in this case was right. He would not just be strong, or powerful, or possess strength, he would be THE Strong. The one from which all other strength would be derived, just as how The Wood would be the source and original for all the trees to follow.

Nodding, he took out his bow. It was time to use the practice bow his Grandfather had made for him, and his Mother given him. He felt a momentary surge of loneliness... he was but a child after all, and yet all his family had left him to pursue his own course when he could barely speak. But he had a task to do. Loneliness could wait.

He tried to nock an arrow, and pull the string, but... it was too much. He was still a child, and though he was strong, this was a divine bow, not something made of simple wood and string. In frustration, he grew older, growing into the weapon until he could finally pull back the string and let loose at a nearby Tree. The arrow didn't land true... instead, swaying well off course. Grunting in frustration, he tried again, but again he missed. And again. And again. There could not be this many arrows in the quiver. It was far too small, and only had a few arrows to begin with. Yet every time he reached back, there was another arrow to shoot, until his arms ached and his fingers bled.

A brief interuption... some sort of low growl? Frowning in puzzlement, he looked around and saw... a python! No, a toad... no a... he frowned. Was this what happened when a toad and a python loved eachother VERY much? No, he could...

"Crocodile..." he realized suddenly, looking into the odd looking creature's eyes. Kneeling down, he leant in, peering at it curiously. "You're a swimming thing aren't you? You're a LONG way from water Mr Crocodile."

The crocodile did not seem to really care, instead lashing out to bite the youth. The god simply raised his arm and let the crocodile latch on. It didn't even break the skin. Though he still needed to become Strong, he still had the strength to make any mortal creature a mere play thing.

"You need to get stronger too..." he realized suddenly. The crocodile was a strong creature, and very good at latching onto things in the water, but... it had so little hunger. So little passion. And it was so little! It was useless away from water... no, this wouldn't do. It needed to be stronger. There needed to be some sort of land crocodile so water wasn't the only place where the strong could struggle. There needed to be...

Stroking the crocodile gently, it let go of his arm in shock, before twisting and growing into an odd creature with spines down it's back. FAR larger than it's former form, it seemed to have evolved to eat both plants and animals, though... judging from the look in it's eyes, it would like animals better! At least, this particular one would.

"Go and hunt... bloodspike," he told the thing. That seemed a good name. A behemoth, a bloodspike behemoth named after the red spikes down its back.

But wait... if there were bloodspike behemoths... there needed to be other types of behemoths too, otherwise the name wouldn't make sense! Finding another crocodile, he grew it into a more sturdy looking complement. Rather than hunting with spikes and teeth, this one would have a hard shell and a... a... "Macetail," he decided with a nod. That worked. One could hunt with speed and viciousness, the other could be a fearsome tank to take down any prey.

This had been fun, and necessary, but... he needed to return to his target tree. He still needed to get Strong.

PP Expenditure

1PP Spawn - Althas makes dinosaurs behemoths, both the Macetail and Bloodspike variety
3PP remaining (with 2PP given to everyone)
Eago sighed once more, the wind seeming to leave him in a gust, rippling his robes about him. As the real stuff of his being, his crimson folds seemed to sag upon his godly frame.

 "Yes, I did know that, but I wish I did not," he gazed at Altair, and somehow managed to convey a sense of pained resignation and sadness with just those two blank pits, "The future is like a library, a library filled with books not written till they're read. Possibility doesn't even begin to describe the future. Fortune-telling is not future-telling. It is a read of the possibilities, and an assessment of the most likely." His eyes suddenly shone like a smile, "So if I am an odds-maker, your new friend is like the ultimate gambler."

"Oh, but here I go mixing my metaphors and carrying on. Something to do with the mountain you say? Yes, I think that is something that can be done. Certainly a pleasing possibility."

He chuckled.

"Perhaps we should give it some friends?"

Eago passed Altair an influx of power. But he pulled a bit of the power for himself and began absently pulling and prodding at it.

1 PP Mold Land Given to Altair for a mountain range to continue his sole mountain.

2 PP Stored for Forge Artifact.
Altair looked confused.

"So... the two of you should get along splendidly... if you make the odds and he gambles on them.  Or am I not understanding you properly?"

He looked down at the ground far below.

"Yes.  Friends.  I like that idea."  He said, reaching out with his hand and making pinching gestures.  Below, the earth near the Shattered Mountain rose up in time with his motion, rock and stone pushing out of dirt and forming a number of mountains that stretched across the continent, blocking off the northeastern portion behind a loose barrier of mountains with wide broad passes dotted here and there amongst the peaks.  Still, the Shattered Mountain stood higher than the rest, but at least now it was a bit less conspicuous.

Unconciously, he pulled out the three egg-shaped rocks that Eago had given him, rolling them around his hand as he looked down on Sericea below.   He glanced over to see Eago watching.

"Its my one remaining connection to her, Eago.  It makes her feel... closer, somehow."  He said quietly and a little sheepishly, rolling the stones around one another.


1 PP + 1 PP from Ara:  Mold Land:  A mountain range arises, encompassing the Shattered Mountain.
A crocodile waddled away from the water. It turned its head as best it could to look behind it. The twins tried to hide behind trees, but while the creature might not have been smart, it wasn't as dense as a rock either. One tree had a blinding halo from Vasa's presence, the other was nearly invisible from the dark shroud of Vion. The creature let out an annoyed "yrrruugggg" and continued to waddle away from the two gods that were watching it.

"Do you think it will not stop-living?"

"I hope so... although, stop-living doesn't really roll off the tongue."

"... True. But should we come up with a name for it? That fells like it would be admitting failure."

"Perhaps you are ri-"

A behemoth came trampling through the area and accidentally killed the crocodile in the process.

"Well," the twin said, rethinking the statement, "it seems that things do like to not-live in general."

The other twin nodded, "Most unfortunate. So, a name for it, then?"

"That appears to be best. Any suggestions?"


"Hmm... 'that crocodile has susaned'... no, sorry, I don't think that is it. What about 'death'?"

"'The python has died.' Yes, I think that will do."

Satisfied with the term, at least, the twins meandered over to the corpse. Lacking a stick, Vion nudged it a few times with his foot. "Well, it isn't much of a mystery why this one died. Still, it was supposed to be strong enough not to have that problem."

Vasa nodded and replied, "True, but maybe that is a flawed avenue of investigation? I mean, what if there are two creatures who are so strong that they don't die, but they get into a fight? Do you remember when we tried that before?"

Vion thought back to the memories he had (which, he vaguely recalled, weren't real memories, since Eago had created him with them) of playing with Vasa in the place between the Ticks and the Tocks. Yes, he remembered when he had made an unstoppable creature and his sister had made an unmoveable one. The rest was, well, a headache. "So what do you suggest?"

"Have you noticed how the creatures are a bit sluggish? When the sun isn't shining, they seem slower, because they get a lot of energy from it. What if we made something that didn't need that sun as much?"

"Hmm, I think I see where you are going with that. I think it would need to eat more often, then."

Vasa nodded in agreement, "We might want to give it something to help it keep its heat in, so it didn't waste so much energy making it."

"I think I know what would do the trick. Shall we get started?"

The White Lady grabbed a small lizard and brought it over to the Dark Lord. She burned away the parts that were unnecessary and his shadows brought new things in its place. They put fire in its blood and then opened up its skull. This was a small creature, but being small it needed to be clever to survive. The dead crocodile taught them that much. The brain was burned and brought back from ashes a dozen times until the two felt they had it right. They closed it up, moved the eyes, and covered it in shadows. The end result was a small critter, hardly a hand-span in length, but with a fine coat of fur. It had a curious look in its eyes and, as soon as it was set down, it scurried into the wild, seeking its fortunes in the world.

Vion held his sister back from pursuing the thing. "I think we need to seek out Eago."

The anger in Vasa's eyes was apparent. Her feelings for the god had not improved. "Why?"

"That large creature, that was Althas' work. He's our son, he knows how to make life. But as we've seen, that knowledge isn't innate to everyone. Someday, others will create life as well. We need to make sure that they'll know how or, at the least, ensure that they don't muddle things."

Vasa wasn't particularly convinced, but her brother seemed earnest in his purpose so she nodded. "Very well, lets go."

She had the idea that he could go alone, but as soon as she thought it the concept repulsed her. Be apart from her brother? That was ridiculous.


1PP - Nourish: the Twins create mammals. Specifically, puny rodents right now, although I'll cantrip more impressive beasties later.

1PP remaining

~Shattered Mountain~

The twins approached Eago, but slowed when they saw that their father was with him. They paused and waited for one of the adults to acknowledge their presence.
Altair glanced up to see his children waiting patiently.  He pocketed the eggs and gestured them closer.

"Come, Vasa and Vion.  What can I do for you?" 
"Thank you, father," Vion said to Altair. His sister remained behind him and didn't spare Red Robe a glance.

"I had a question for Eago," he continued. "I hope you both will enjoy our... labors below. But I wanted to... well..."

Vion thought hard. There wasn't a good word in existence, really, for what he wanted to do, so he crafted one out of reality. "I wanted to patent life. Is that something you can help me with, Mr. Eago, sir?"
The Red Robe looked shocked at being addressed thusly by the young Vion.

"Please, sir, there's no need for that 'sir' nonsense from you, young master," stammered Eago, his eyes flicking nervously to Altair, "It isn't proper, and I should think your father would not be too pleased either. I am a servant of your father, and thus always in your service as well. I require no displays of respect from you young master."

Now that he had that straightened out, Eago focused instead upon the boy's request which, he admitted, pleased him and intrigued him.

"So young master, you wish to file a patent? Well then, I suppose the first order of business would be to establish the terms and parameters. What exactly do you wish to prevent others from doing? What exactly would you like to reserve for yourself?"

Eago had once again taken out his writing implements which had, again, changed. Now he wrote with the sharpened stem of a leaf upon a larger, smoothed out frond. 
"But it is only right," Vion said, "to be respectful of one's elders. But talking honorifics is not why we came-" Vion paused while he thought of a proper title to call Eago, since apparently "sir" would not do. "Honorifics are not why we came, Chancellor Eago."

"We wish to patent life. Not that we wish to prevent others from creating living things, if that so strikes their interests. Instead, we wish to provide the proper way in which this should be done. After all, there is much life already created, it would be undesirable for one of us, or a future god," here Vion's eyes darted towards where Altair had secured the eggs, although his features were so dark that this wasn't apparent, "to create something that is in fundamental conflict."

The Black Lord raised his hand and the shadows that shrouded him parted to reveal the image of a tree. "This thing takes in certain gasses and expels others. What if someone created a creature for which the expelled gasses were poisonous? Or, if that creature expelled gasses that destroyed this thing?"

"We wish to set down a broad framework for what does belong in this world," Vion concluded.

Before any of the others could respond, however, Vasa spoke up. "We also wish to claim for ourselves rulership over all life. Father rules all light, does he not? Would it matter if another source of light besides the sun were created by another god? Still, it is his. So too we wish to rule life."

Vion glanced at his sister. They hadn't discussed this, but he didn't want to question her infront of the others. "Yes. Of course," he added, "we don't wish to usurp the claims that others might have to their own creations. Just that, as long as it lives, we are entitled to our say."

"As is our son," Vasa contributed.
Altair frowned.

"Children, I am not sure I agree with this proposal of yours.  Do you not remember the wonderful diversity of forms that existed in the Potentiality before the Universe?  We needed no rules then, when Dobbits cavorted with gnomes and Tsarok-hem and Fallen hunted side by side.  Why should we have them now?"

His voice grew wistful.

"What of your Mother and I?  She Dark and I Light, we, by all accounts, should have been in (as you put it) fundamental conflict, yet instead it was wonderful.  Do not cut off entire realms of possibility simply because it does not meet with your own aesthetic preferences."

 raised his hands and in the palm of each appeared a creature.  In his left hand, a floating orb that shone in dim homage to the Light of the god itself.  It bobbed over Altair's palm and seemed to beacon to those present to 'follow.'   In his right hand, what appeared to be a large scab-covered mass with a circular mouth filled with razor-sharp teeth that moved blindly back and forth across the God's palm, mouth reaching out for non-divine sustenance.

"Which one Deserves to live in the world, my children?  This object of light in my left hand, or this ravenous creature in my right?  Divorce your mind from your own opinions and tell me honestly that either of these has a better 'claim' to existence."

flicked his hands and the creatures vanished, reappearing in significantly greater numbers in the Wood below.


1 PP:  Spawn Beast:  Wisps.  The one created was a slightly modified will'o'the'wisp that will be statted shortly.
1 PP:  Spawn Beast:  Ravening Cyst.

"How can we proceed without your approval, Father?" Vion said, turning his palms so that they faced Altair in a show of submission. His face, it it could be seen past his dark aura, seemed more angular now than just a few moments ago. "However, if you may tolerate my boldness, might I humbly suggest that you misunderstand our intent? Our concern is not about aesetics but rather about practicality. I remember our house between the ticks and the tocks, and you know that I loved the dobbits, but surely you have noticed that here in Time things cannot remain potential forever. Eventually, what might be has to become what is. And when that happens, not everything can survive alongside everything else. I wish to patent life so that, by limiting our possibilities, the end result will be something worthwhile. The alternative is..."

Vion closed his eyes and formed what appeared to be a replication of the Chancellor's worms. However, he then spun it and the difference became apparent: it was alive, but it had no depth. The Black Lord released it and the creature fell to the mountain below. It didn't land so much as slide between the motes of earth that comprised the shattered mountain. There was a simple slurt and the creature was gone, falling through the earth since it lacked the mass necessary to interact with the world that was.

"Unfortunately, that creature will keep falling until it dies, and it will not die until its body gives out. There isn't anything there for this world to interact with, but it exists nonetheless."

He was not done, however. Next he pushed existence away from a single spot. Air, light, time, everything had to go. To call the result a void would have been generous. Only the barest sliver of potentiality remains, and this Vion formed into something that was simply wrong. The mountain, the air, these things were made of matter. Even light was related, in some way, but not this creature. It was comprised of something that the universe did not know, did not understand. As Altair and Eago looked at it, the creature's appearance seemed to try to bend them, to conform them to an existence that was the antithesis of everything that this world was. Vion held it for a moment, letting the shame of what the creature was wash over the other gods. He waited until he thought he saw a glimmer of horror in his father's eyes, and then he released it. It fell out of the near-nothingness that Vion had created and, as soon as its unknowable substance interacted with this universe, it erupted into what, in retrospect, was probably an explosion. The creature's substance and that of the universe eradicated each other. The result was a portion of the world that was simply no longer there. In a moment the rest of the world rushed to fill in the gap, and parts of the mountain below were ripped from their roots in the process.

The shattered mountain was no longer flat, but countless needle-like peaks formed its top, each one bent towards the direction of where the creature had been.

"Some things are just too alien to ever exist in this world. These are just two extreme examples, but our intent is to try to limit the creation of such creatures."


Cantrip x 2 = Vion creates two very non-natural creatures.
1PP Mold Minor = The Shattered Mountain is a little more shattered; it has been broken up into earthy needles, essentially.
Altair closed his eyes and shook his head.

"I doubt that anyone is going to attempt to make a living bomb, but your point is well taken.  Perhaps some limits on what life is and is not is acceptable.  Very well, Vasa and Vion, you have my blessing.  Eago, make it so." 
Reset:  Week 1 is finished!  An excellent start.

4 PP to all Gods (progress to next PPs will begin in a few weeks when we actually have divergences)

To avoid any confusion, we are looking to ascend between two and three Gods this week.  We thank everyone for their patience at the start of the game when we need to throttle the entry rate in this manner.  We are committed to getting everyone in in a timely fashion. (Ary, gogogogogoggogogogoggogogogogogogoggo!!!!!!!!) 


You will note that it has changed in shape a little bit.  We didn't like its first look all that well and added a little more variety.  FULL sized version is in the group.  Maplib map will be up shortly, and will likely be quite large this week (playing around with bitmap sizes and qualities).  Remember that the maplib map can be gotten to from the LoC Wiki.
"Well hang on just a moment, 'make it so', this is a rather large piece of paper-work, and quite a bit of pomp and ceremony must go into officiating it! I am not merely legitimizing some sprouts here, or authorizing the construction of some simple causeway. No, this is big business! This is not a document that can just be whipped up! No! This needs signature, and authorization! And stamps! Oh heavens, the stamps! It must be approved and officiated by at least-"

Eago rambled along, speaking faster and more flustered and with an increasing sense of obvious enjoyment. Bright pink patches were appearing upon his blank cheeks, and his robes rippled with something approaching ill-concealed indignation. In fact, his whole body seemed to be alive with some electric spark. As the observing gods watched, tending more and more to ignore the rambling of the reddenning steward, the saw the writing implements the man had pulled out previously begin to drift vaguely off to one side, as though forgotten. After drifting about two feet to Eago's left, they suddenly snapped to attention.

The sharpened leaf stem suddenly began to dance accross the surface of the frond, leaving vague white figures in its tracks which were utterly unrecognizable to the onlookers. In fact, if they hadn't known any better, they would have supposed the figures meant nothing really. Which, they supposed, didn't. Not until meaning was suffused into them.

As the leaf scrawled on, more and more fronds came to replace the filled ones. The leaf did not even pause as a new frond was added, and merely snapped onto the new one as though there had been no change. Meanwhile, the rambling Eago was descending into fits of increasing hysterics over the obvious ignorance of his fellows, apparently completely unaware of what his implements were doing without his supervision. Finally, the leaf drew a great long line across the bottom of a frond. Eago sighed.

"Well, I suppose that's it then," with a startling return to normality, and the leaf and frond presented themselves to the waiting Vion, "Now if you'll just sign on the line, all should be in order."
As Eago wrote, Altair found his mind wandering...

A Vignette...

*A Time before Time, A Space without a Place*

Altair and Vega sat with their feet dangling in the bend of the river where it began to flow back uphill towards the Suspended Sea.  Carp flowed in the shadows of her feet, avoiding at all costs the regions of the river that were illuminated by Altair.

 They watched the Carp for some time before Vega turned to Altair and said simply.  "Lets go home."

And that is what they did.

A shimmering tear fell from Altair's face and plummeted downwards towards the earth, landing in the sea that surrounded the continents.  From its impact point spread thousands of fish, but most prominently of all were Carp with alternating white and black lines down their backs.

"Yes, Vion.  Please sign on the line.  I have other business with you and your sister when this is finished.  You too, Eago."


1 PP:  Nourish Sea:  All manner of Fish spring up in the oceans, but the most common is a black and white striped carp.
"Sign?" Vion asked. That was a very strange word. The Black Lord searched his memory for the meaning and finally found it among things that might yet be. A system of putting abstract thoughts to physical media through the use of particular shapes. So, then, signing the thing meant putting some of these shapes on the form. But, not just any shapes, ones that represented his unique mark.

After giving the matter a bit of thought, Vion caused his mark to appear on the line. Specifically, this was the mark that he left on all the things he created, as that seemed most appropriate. This was not so much a word as it was a combination of three chemicals: Adenine, Thymine, and Guanine. Done, he handed the form to his sister and, reluctantly, she followed her brother's example and impressed her own signature. They were the same things, but in a different order: Thymine, Adenine, and Guanine.

"Is that it then?" Vasa asked. Not waiting for Red Robe to respond, she turned to Altair and her face softened. "Yes, father?"
"We are in a new world, Vasa and Vion, and there are things in existence that are not of our blood.  As such, with this new world bereft of Potentiality, I would like to formally adopt both of you, to acknowledge you as my kin and that I will protect you against any foreign entity.  Would you accept?"
Vasa blinded her brother and Eago with her aura as she smiled. She ran and hugged altair, "Father, of course we accept. Yes, we must remain a family."

She shot a glar at Red Robe, making it clear that she was excluding him.
Altair chuckled.

"Why the jealousy, little daybloom?  You will always be my child, and as such, Eago who is my servant and friend is your servant and friend as well.  Nothing will ever come between us."

The God looked over to Eago.

"Have you had a chance to write up that document I requested earlier?  I would like to sign it immediately, if so."
Vasa held Altair close and whispered in his ear, so that Red Robe couldn't hear. "But who is there to protect us against except that one?"
And that is when Altair told his children of his encounter with the Beast in the Night, the being of impossible size and strength, the thousands of thousand-eyed.  As he spoke, describing the roiling murky waters, the strange buildings that pushed in and out of those waters and the fleshy orb that contained both a mind and a purpose, he saw Vasa and Vion grow unsettled and as worried as he himself had been.  

"That is who I will protect you from.  Compared to that creature, Eago is naught but a friendly ghost." 
Time has passed. And yet no time at all. It was hard to tell. Even in the outside world, time was hard to keep track of. The world was new, and it's primary inhabitants were immortal. Time had no meaning. But in The Wood, things were even harder to keep track of. Tempora, drunk on tree sap, sprawled over many a tree, permanently slowing the flow of time. Outside, things would be going far quicker. Or would they? As had just been said, time had no meaning for a god. Perhaps he was unaffected, and every other living thing saw him as blistering fast, a blur of a green boy with antlers growing from his head that contantly shot arrows at a tree. To him, slowly improving until he shot the tree with every blow, to them doing so in an instant.

He didn't know. Such deep thoughts were unbecoming of a child, or perhaps a boy not quite in his teens now. But he had them anyway. He seemed to realize now that heat and frustration did not make for true arrows. Rather it took... calmness. Contemplation. He needed to access a well of wisdom inside of him, things to ponder to keep the alert, awake parts of the brain busy while his body and sense could concentrate souly on the arrow. Forgetting their aches. Forgetting the blood running from his fingers from shooting for so long. Forgetting everything but the tree.

And just like that... it was over. The tree collapsed backwards with an almighty crack, sprawling onto the forest floor. Blinking in shock, Althas rubbed the back of his head... what had happened? But then he saw... apparently his last 147 arrows had each split the other in rapid succession, hitting the exact same spot with greater and greater strength. Eventually, along with all the other arrows, the tree had cracked, and then the repeated force had made it crack roughly in twain and fall backwards. It was... rather sad actually. Already he could see the cruel sun pouring into the gap, frying several small mammals that quickly rushed outside, lest they be burnt and die forever.

Wait, small mammals? That was... strange. Those things had not existed before, had they? Was... had someone else been in The Woods, and neglected to seek him out? That thought... it was like a knife in the heart. His parents had sent him loose into the world with naught but a bow, an arrow, and a python that had long ago escaped elsewhere, and the one time someone entered his domain they didn't find him worthy of talk, of contact? He was but a boy with a fragile ego... it devestated him.

Such thoughts were poison in his well of wisdom however... if he dwelt on them, he would die if he drank from it, never again able to find that pristine calm. He forced them to the side. He could deal with his abandonment issues later. For now... he still needed to be stronger. But how? He had all but perfected the bow... if he attacked another tree, surely the same thing would happen? Then how could he-

A mammal darted on the edge of his vision. Instinct, and perhaps bitterness at whoever had created them and had not even thought to contact him, boiled in his blood. Taking his bow, he turned swiftly, launching an arrow at the moving target. It hit with no effort, pinning the beast cruely to the ground with it's force and killing it instantly.

This... confused the boy. Frowning, he cautiously went over to the mammal, leaning down and poking it. Why didn't it move? He'd been bitten by crocodiles and half-eaten by pythons and still moved. So why didn't it? It had... no life. It was as though it were a leaf cut off from the tree, a mere husk of the network of life it had once been a part of.

This thought saddened him. No, it more than saddened him. It filled him with gried. He'd taken this things life. And he'd taken the life of the tree earlier too come to think of it. He'd created this Wood, but what purpose was it to if he destroyed everything in it! But even as he mourned... a funny thing happened. A toad from the nearby stream was swiftly eaten up by a crocodile, before it plodded on it's merry way... only to be eaten by a passing behemoth.

Althas blinked... all those creatures died. How was it different? Why was this worth grieving for, and yet... he knew it. Suddenly, he knew what he must do.

Taking out the arrow, he brought the dead animal to his mouth before taking a bite, savoring the taste of flesh. Drinking the blood as though it were wine. He was a god. He did not need to eat. But by doing so, this animal would live on inside of him. It would serve to make it's life meaning. It would not be murder, it would be prey. Somehow, that was different. Much different.

Finishing his meal, he wiped the blood on his lips with his bare arm, staining his green skin with red blood. Standing up, he looked around. Looking at the cycle of life around him... but something was amiss. Aside from the one he himself had devoured... no mammals seemed to be a part of the cycle. He frowned... why was that? Surely... he saw it. A crocodile snapped, but the mammals was too swift. It was too active. All other animals here were cold and slow, while these were hot and swift. They needed to eat more, they burnt out quicker, but... nothing could prey on them. Nothing was swift enough unless the animal was particularily foolish.

This was... wrong. There needed to be something swift enough to catch and kill these beasts. It was natures way. But they needed to be as hot and as swift as the animals they hunted... ah, he knew.

Taking an arrow, he cut his arm, letting the blood fall to the ground. Soon, the blood gurgled, and soon numerous... THINGS tood around him. Furry things. Things with muzzles and fangs. Things meant to hunt. Most were small and gray, but a few seemed to have taken the most of his blood and were large and horned, rather like comparing the toads to his dire toads. These things were all a part of his blood, and so they moved as a stream. They wanted to be together, as close as his drops had been in his veins. And they hungered... smelling prey, one reared it's head and let out a howl. The others quickly followed suit.

Wolves... that's what they were. The first REAL predator on this world. Not things that could eat flesh or plant like his behemoths. Not things that waited for prey and snapped out like the work of his Grandfather. No, these were HUNTERS. Hunters like HIM. He could see it now.

Seeming to grow at the thought, he reared his head to the sky and howled. Time to hunt.


Meanwhile, his heart, the Hear of the Wood beat. Beating it's life force into the Woods around it. Making it's borders grow, spreading like a flower bloomed... or perhaps how a disease spread depending on your view of it.

PP Expenditure

1 PP Nourish from The Heart of the Wood - The Heart of the Wood beats. The Wood's borders grow.
1 PP Spawn - Althas makes wolves from his blood, apex predators. Yes, that long a post and I only spent one PP
"That thing claims it harmed mother?!" Vion asked, the anger in his voice as pure as Altair's light.

The Black Lord's aura of darkness erupted into dozens of tendrils which flailed with wrath for a moment. Then, they began to weave themselves around the god's body. Before a general cloud of shadows had been his primary garb, but now the tendrils formed protection around him. The blackness condensed into gleamless chainmail, buckled and bound but loose enough to give free movement. Atop this formed a heavy greatcoat, the remaining trendrils forming several straps of the coat which still twitched as the god moved, ready to act as his own limbs

"Then it will die. Come, let us find Althas and together we will strike this thing down from the heavens, we will tear its eyes and limbs from its flesh, we will scatter its essence to the void and back. We will not just kill it, we shall make it so that it never was."
"Peace, Vion."  Altair said, placing a hand on the God's shoulder.  "It also claimed to help her, to hurt me, to kill me, and a million other things besides.  Personally, I am unsure as to whether or not it is entirely sane.  But perhaps we should allow it to speak for itself before attempting to destroy it."

 reached down and picked up a Wolf, admiring it for a moment before trapping it in a floating bubble before him.  He reached into his robes and pulled out the tiny lantern that he had been given and placed it above the head of the wolf as he had been instructed.

"Kyoaag N'gaas, Do you hear me?  It is Altair." 
Vion held his tongue for the moment, and his anger, but it did not seem as if he would be willing to remain still for long. Either this Kyoaag N'gaas was telling the truth, in which case it should be erradicated, or it was lying, in which case it should be horribly maimed for speaking such a falsehood. But he waited, at least for now, to see what his father was up to.
---------------------------------------[After the meeting with Altair]
He was gazing through timelines.

Timelines, hahaha. He thought to himself, chuckling. They were tangles within tangles, writhing and spawning new paths out of themselves infinitely, recursively in some cases.

Most important to Him now, were those timelines which had an end. Terminus Lines. At their ends, where entropy was complete, the gods dead, all moment gone, and all things turned to doomstone, His eyes burned over all. Looking. Looking for a reason why they found and end.

It was infuriating.

He poured over black ruins and slid between ebon doors into darkened chambers seeking their shadowed secrets.

For ages he looked, and found no hint. Behind him he left a trail of timelines fraying at the ends. Terminus lines are fragile things, the introduction of moment into them causes the entire timeline to fray and shatter at the impossibility of there being Moments when all potentiality has ceased and silence reigns.

But there was one thing. A god. Encased in Doomstone floating amidst the shattered remains of a doomed world. There was still enough essence left in it for revival. Interesting. He pondered for the few moments he had on this Terminus line what to do with the dormant dark god before lashing tentacles of gray water across the doomstone husk holding the dormant god.

In a flash of Moment, they were gone. And in their abscence, the timeline came crashing down into oblivion. There would be no return.

 Back on His native timeline, he went to work on the dormant god. A violent lash of gray water blasted the doomstone away from the dormant form. Revealed, floated a black shape, so dark the void paled in comparison.

"Yes. Yes, I think I know you." He bubbled, laughing. His myriad eyes focused on the dormant darkeness. Motes of orange light erupted from them, falling into the dormant form, along with these words: "You don't have a home. All existance is a poison to you. Stay in the same timeline for more than a few moments, and you will become as the stone that encased you. Dead. So run. Run with speed of darkness, from timeline to timeline. You know how to use the Moment. Let your fear guide you. I do this so you may see more possibility than those gods who cannot think beyond the present. I do this so that you may think quicker than they can."

With that, a great tentacle of gray water took hold of the god, and with Momentous effort, flung it through time towards the distant planet.


The wolf's eyes glow orange, and roll back. Its drool ceases, what instead flows from its mouth is a black tar.

"Hail...god of light," the grinding words came echoing from the wolf's maw as its jaws worked slowly. "You've called to alter our arrangement? Or perhaps betrayal? Or perhaps more questions? Well, let's make it quick." The last words bitten off sharply, a small seizure rippling through the hound.

A rising laugh then erupted from the wolf's mouth, "I don't have all the time in the world." 

The wolf's eyes then wandered independantly of eachother, "Oh, that reminds me, you should be having a visitor soon."

Suddenly, there was a thunderous crash and a blinding burst of fiery light as a the black form of a once domant god crashed into the earth.

1pp+1pp(Moment): Beget (Minor) Desha is ascended.

Desha is temporally displaced. That means there are no times or places in existance that do not incite degradation into doomstone on Desha. Therefore, Desha must shift timelines constantly to avoid complete degradation into doomstone.

This should be fun!
Eago inclined his head respectfully before speaking.

"Master, if I may?" said Eago, directing these words at Altair before turning his attention to the twins, "My dear young masters, if what this strange being says is true, which I doubt seeing as how he does not seem to have been present before the consolidation from Potentiality, perhaps it would be wiser not to act quite so directly against him? Forgive me, but so long as this being continues to speak in such riddles and keeps himself so far removed from us, he is largely harmless. Should our goal not be fulfilling your mother's wishes and focusing on the world?"

He cleared his throught lightly, and with a most reverent and respectful air, turned to appeal to Altair.

"I do not believe your wife would approve of such bloodshed."

Oh! Ary! You ninja'd me! Consider as though the above happened before you arrived perhaps? Yeah, easier that way.

As the other being of Time whirled into appearance, the flowing red shape of Eago vanshed, leaving just words on the wind for just Altair and the twins to hear.

"Remember my words..." 
Vion frowned at Eago's words. There had never been anything in the sleepy place between the ticks and the tocks that needed avenging, so why would his mother have ever had need to become familiar with the concept. Had something like this happened as she disappeared? Or was the Chancellor projecting his own feelings onto their mother? Didn't she wish this world to be a good place? How could it long remain good with such corruption in it?

Then the blasphemy spoke through the mouth of a creature that had the clear mark of his son on it. How could Altair willingly put something so good and pure in the influence of this foulness? The creature would be, unfortunately, beyond the hope of redemption. The essence of it was already coming undone, its cells were falling apart.

The Black Lord's thoughts turned to his son and, not for the first time, he wondered how he was doing. As Altair spoke into the greenish lantern, Vion nudged his sister and whispered his concerns into her ear. He could tell from the look on her face that she too missed Althas. They were trying to create a better world for him, and they were hoping that he was becoming his own god rather than just what they wanted him to be, but that didn't make their separation any easier. They had made creatures to keep him company, but those were probably dead by now. He needed something to remind him that he had parents who loved him and missed him.

While the thing spoke through the wolf, the Twins withdrew a bit and whispered among themselves. A simple creature wouldn't be enough to show their son that they were thinking of him. That would eventually die and pass away. But they hadn't perfected the art of making things that would not-die yet, so it seemed unlikely that they could create a single creature to keep him company. But a type of creature wouldn't do either: how could Althas know that he was loved if his parents only gave him things that kept breaking?

Perhaps, Vasa suggested, they should give him something that wasn't alive? Then it couldn't die. Ah, Vion, responded, how would he know it was from them? Perhaps, she countered, they should put this non-living thing inside something that was alive. That way, when the living thing died, the none-living thing would move to another creature. In such a way, perhaps some of the life that the creature had could remain in the nonliving thing.

The Twins were agreed. It was strange, creating something that wasn't life, but they looked in part to themselves and the other gods: being that just were. They tried to mimic the simple existence of things like time and light. Yes, light. That one seemed good. It wasn't even quite a thing, one couldn't hold it in one's hand. The new thing seemed done, but they realized before they sent it to their son that something was missing. They wanted this thing to be a companion for Althas even when they were gone. A dumb beast could not do that. They gave the thing a spark of intelligence and then put it in the body of a wolf below.

Infused with this new essence, the wolf's body surged and grew, becoming as tall as a tree (well, at least a small tree by the standards of The Wood, but a giant tree when compared with elsewhere in the world). Its fur became blue-grey and wild. The godbeast could sense its target and it bounded across the continent, covering miles in a handful of leaps. It entered the Woods and felt at home, since its master was here. The creature sniffed out Althas and, upon finding him, gently nudged at his hand with its nose.


1PP Spawn - Borte, the first godbeast. Also, this is the world's first (and currently only) soul. Don't worry, the rest will get created soon, hopefully later this week. As noted, this epic-level spawn is actually a soul more than a creature. It takes a wolf host (always a wolf) and transforms it into Borte. As there is only one soul, there is always only one Borte. When the old one dies or is killed, the soul seeks a new host and transforms it in turn (so while it can be defeated, it never actually is destroyed). The creature is intelligent, but mortals are incapable of understanding it. Instead, only divine beings can. However, it generally has no desire to interact with such beings, besides Althas (it isn't even particularly fond of V&V). Its primary purpose is to keep Althas company (when he wants it), though it has a secondary purpose of protecting the unspoiled nature where the wild hunt can occur. Though the creature will usually obey Althas, this is out of respect for his abilities as a hunter, rather than because of any actual obligations.

The hunt. The Hunt. That was all that was. He needed to get stronger. He needed to become Strong. But all that was a haze of blood and passion as he ran with his wolves. At first, they simply hunted the small mammals and, if there were enough of them, the odd wounded or old behemoth. Such glorious hunts they were! But that was not enough... eventually, the young teen created Prey for his Predators. Hooved creatures with antlers not unlike his own, bigger creatures with more large and commical antlers, and larger mammals that had floppy ears and ran like the wind.

Huntings was fun. It was passionate. But... at the same time, he felt something missing. He relished the kill, digging his teeth into the red, ripe flesh after the death of the prey, tasting the blood on his tongue as he swallowed the meat he'd worked hard to earn... but he was not a wolf. He couldn't be. He was a god. And he had no place here. The wolves saw him as a companion, someone they would allow to run with them, but... he was not a wolf, and they knew it. He would never be a part of the pack. Yet another family he was driven from, but he was beginning to not mind. He was a different animal to these wolves, and... was a different animal to his parents. He could not imagine the two running with wolves like this! He could not be like either of them, nor should he try to.

Still, even aside from companionship, something was missing... and suddenly, he realized it. Sometimes, two wolves simply hated eachother with a passion. It was like they were born to be.. enemies, that was it. He did not have an enemy, and he needed one. No, that wasn't right... he DID have an enemy. His skin crawled. He could sense him, or her, or it... an enemy somewhere that was his opposite. The unnatural to his natural. The abberant to his material. Somehow, he... he got the sense that his time in The Woods was coming to a close for now. This enemy... he needed to find them.

Nodding in resolve, he got to his feet... before something bumped his hand. Frowning, he looked down... then up... wow that was a big wolf. He didn't remember making them so big! Did he make one real big and forget? No, he wasn't a child anymore, he wouldn't do something so immature. Though it WAS pretty big, it made him wish he had made it...

Wait, he could sense... hesistating, he brushed the huge wolf's muzzle. His parents? Why would they create such a...

He blinked back tears despite himself. Seemed they'd been thinking of him after all... and here he thought they'd abandoned him for so long...

Right! This was a giant wolf. And though he was bigger than when he once use that dire toad as a mount... this was a much bigger animal than that toad. If he road this wolf, this... Borte? What an odd name... his parents certainly named everything they made oddly! Then again, hadn't they made him? He frowned at the though. Ah well. In anycase, this mount would take him to his enemy... he could feel it. What he'd do when he found them he did not know, but... he needed to do this if he was to grow.

[sblock = PP Expenditure]
1PP Nourish - Althas creates a few basic animals, primarily deer, moose and rabbits.
It was a deep purple night. The moon and the trees cast their shadows across the ground, and the world was the colour of a bruise. Leaves hung from their branches, no wind stirred their rest. Serpents tinted indigo wound their way through the underbrush, snapping maws filled with bright purple fangs. Over pine needles, the wolves softly stalked their prey. There was a man in their forest. His crimson cloak, caught on brambles, was painted a deep shade of mauve as he twisted between the trees. They watched him with their eyes big and round as the moon. This man was not a Prey, they knew. This man would brook no distraction. It was a secret night. A night of Darkness.

Why was he here this night? Of all nights? What brought the strange man with the blank face to this purple little corner of the world? Truth be told, he hardly knew himself, save that he knew he must be, somehow. He had trudged for a time under trunks not yet gnarled with age, not yet twisted and grey as he knew they must become. No roots poked above the needle-strewn forest floor. This forest, like all the forests, was a young forest. And yet, as he walked, he sensed a deepening feeling of great age. It was the sense one gets upon entering a massive library, as the silence and the weight of the combined knowledge settles upon you. It is the feeling that settles slowly, over a lifetime, with each burden placed upon your young, thin shoulders until you realize, one day, how old and broad your shoulders have become. It was a pleasant feeling now, of returning home. Here Eago made his camp.

He picked up twigs and sticks and fallen leaves from the forest floor. He took nothing the forest hadn't offered up first, he was sure of that. Settling himself upon the mossy floor, he began to construct a sort of cone shape from interlocking sticks. Beneath the dome form by the thin brittle sticks, he pushed some dry leave and twigs. Then he prodded the base gently, and suddenly the whole thing was alight. The small clearing exploded into vibrant orange. The purple shrank to the edges of seeing. The thin sticks were bright with an orange and red flare that flickered and snapped at the air. The pool of light in cast was warm, pleasant. The aroma drifting from the smoldering leaves was a nice, woody smell, the smell of smoke and earth. Eago looked up.

"How did you... do that?"

"It was simple really, just some dry sticks and a prayer."

"Is that supposed to be funny, that talk of prayers?"

"No, not really. Would you care to join me?"

"Yes, I suppose I should."

"But why? Why should you?"

"I suppose I... have no choice."

"You always have a choice."

"I suppose that's true."


"Is this all for me?"

"Yes, Vega, everything is for you."

"Good." A pause, and, "Keep me away from him, will you?"

"Yes, I shall keep you safe." 
Altair nodded at Eago as the god disappeared.

"No, no she would not." he said softly to himself as the red robes left his sight.

He opened his mouth to reply to the Voice coming from the wolf when a massive crashing sound echoed through the world.  Startled, he dropped the Lantern.  He grabbed for it:  once, twice, a third time, but to no avail.  The tiny finger-length lantern dropped out of sight, landing, eventually, somewhere on the world below.  As Vasa and Vion wrangled with the now fully alert and terrified wolf, Altair instead gave one glance at the dim light that was Kyoaag N'gaas and then hurried downwards towards the smoking crater below.

He came to a stop at the lip and hopped down, beholding a dark, misty form slowly being covered by a strage rocky substance.  Altair blasted the rock away, but it soon began to return, seeming to feed off of the dark shape.

Again and again Altair attempted to stop the progression of the stone, but it did not seem to have any lasting effect.  If anything, the stone seemed to creep along the dark form more and more rapidly.

Altair took a step back and felt his hand stray to his pocket and grab ahold of one of the eggs, rolling it against the other two as he tried to think of a solution.  Vega would have known what to do.  She had always been the cleverer one, and Altair knew that she had let him win at Rimple far more than he had deserved to win.  

Altair watched the stone begin to engulf the form.  Yes, Vega would have known what to do beyond simply blast away the substance as it formed.

Suddenly, the egg he was holding grew hot.  It had always pulsed with a pleasant warmth, but now it was too hot to touch!  Cursing, Altair opened his hand and watched with astonishment as the egg flew upward, growing in size as it did, golden skin gleaming in the light of the sun as it went.  Soon, it floated overhead, a golden moon.  Altair gaped and then turned and blasted the Doomstone off of the black figure again.  Hopefully someone would have seen that and would come with a solution... and soon!


1 PP from the Eggs + 1 PP:  Beget God:  Swiftfoot is in the game!  
2 PP remains


OOC for Time Lord and stargazer

Remember that you have 8 PP this first week.  Enjoy it while it lasts!

For so long there was nothing, just the darkness between existence and the void with little more then shattered memories of what had ben, or perhaps could be, or even potentially what was. He was no longer sure of what the memories represented; was not even sure where or what he was.
  Floating there he was only sure of  one thing. He would find reality, find time once again for he was sure that it existed or perhaps would exists. But he was sure that in time he would find reality and this time when everything ended he would not be left with nothing but shattered memories.  But then what was this time, this reality he sought? He knew that he sought it but could not fully recall what it was. Time after all had ben a alien concept to him; floating in the nothingness as it was.  He dwelt on this for a unknowable span, for without time there was no way to measure the length of things. However while dwelling on this and much more he came to find a light within his mind. It was not a brilliant light but rather a dull golden light. He knew however; without knowing how, that this was what he sought. He knew he was intended to find this light.
  Deeper within he plunged his mind racing through the void of the space between what was and what was not. As he neared the light many strings started to come into view. Some strings were dim and beginning to fade, while others showed vibrant and strong. He recognized these strings though he could not recall why. These were the strings of reality. Each one leading to it’s own reality, it’s own timeline.
    For a long time Swift sat there wondering which string was meant for him. Knowing that to choose the wrong one would be to deny him the existence he so desired. He watched as entire timelines began and ended. He learned much in this span and while he watched the light around him grew calling him forth until a tiny string appeared within the tangle. This sting was his, he could feel it grow as reality suddenly began. He watched as the first gods appeared within this timeline, he watched as time itself was formed.  As the potential became the reality,  New life was created from nothing and nothings became something.
 There was no doubt that this and only this timeline was meant for him. He was needed here; yet he did not enter the growing line. Not yet; for he sensed there was something he must witness. So again he watched for a unknown time, for time had truly begun for him, yet without fully embracing it he could not know how much had passed.. Then he saw it;  right as another time line seamed to end before it should,   he saw the line of energy that signified a transference of potentiality. He could see the god that was never meant to be enter his timeline. He watched as the timeline began to split reeling from the entrance of potentiality that was never meant to exist there; or anywhere now that it‘s line was shattered and forever gone. Yet somehow This strange god must have ben meant, for he knew he had ben waiting for this very moment. He had waited to see the timeline fracture, he had to see the rifts form and knew that he was intended to fix this. Yet he could not grasp what force gave him this sight; but then such things were not for him to concern himself with. For now was his time to enter the timeline himself. Now he knew there was a purpose, a need for him. He had to use the knowledge that he found while watching the timelines to repair this one. For even as the being should not be of  his new timeline he knew it must be.

Without waiting longer swift plunged himself into the light and became one with the timeline he had ben watching , His timeline, the timeline he knew would be his for the rest of it’s existence. The void was lost to him as nothingness became reality and time took it’s full hold his essence. He found himself or rather the essence that was him trapped in a egg. In moments his essence had filled the egg, and As his essence grew so did the egg, burning as it drew the power from Altair to fuel it’s growth, the egg grew larger yet lifting into the air as it grew. In mere moments the egg had grown round and to be as a golden moon floating beneath the sun. It was only then that swifts essence fully entered the timeline. Though many sensations flooded the swifts essence he did not dwell of them, not yet. Instead swift turned his gaze to the form of the god below. A barely visible golden light shone down upon Desha from the golden moon that held swifts essence. Swift watched for a moment while Altair blasted the rock away, each time the rock shattered and reformed swift could feel the timeline splinter even further. There was no question that is was indeed this god that he had followed. The strings of his old timeline now visible in the golden light wiping in the breeze, seemly they were little more then spider webs, but swift knew that until these lines were tethered to a timeline that reality would not except the existence of this creature.  Swift extended his essence through the light down upon the world though invisible Altair and Desha they could  however feel the presence. Slowly swift touched Desha using his very essence to tether the broken line of potentiality, Though as soon as swift connected with Desha until the moments later it took the task to finish swift learned of fear. Not fear for himself , not fear for others but simply the very concept of fear. In his memories and in the void he had never know of fear. The very concept seamed inherently wrong to him. To him fear was unreasonable, things simply happened and there was never a reason to fear them only to deal with them or move beyond them. But for those few moments swift felt fear, he had felt it and knew he did not like it. His task complete swift withdrew his essence back to the warm comfort of the moon that was his home. It was in this moment that he decided he would apposed the very concept of fear, he would do his best to make sure others did not feel this unreasonable feeling. Though how would he do this. That perhaps would come to him later. For now he would watch and learn of this new existence. Though still at the very edges of his mind fear remained fear that he would fail, that he would again lose the knowledge’s of existence and find himself lost in the void with only fragments of memories. Though fear was alien to him, the mere moments in contact with this strange god for another timeline would haunt him. Whishing to dwell on it no further swift turned his gaze to the rest of the world, the rest of existence he had much to learn.

0 - Cantrip alter- Desha potentiality is now tethered to the main timeline so Desha no longer turned to doomstone or needs to phase shift. Possible because Desha’s other timeline no longer exists

0 - Cantrip - The golden egg circles beneath the sun around the world so that the sun is both in the center and above the golden moon and the world is always beneath the moon. Will detail more  about the moon on wiki later

8 -PP remaining

OOC: Swift foot now knows of the concept of fear

OOC; Swift foot has not taken on a physical form yet, I will probably not HATCH swift foot until the other 2 moon gods ascend so that all 3 of us can hatch at once but the story will dictate more then anything.


An' ye harm none, do what ye will
Altair watched as the moon shone down its gentle light and healed the broken god before him before it got caught up into an orbit and began to turn its way around the Sun.

"Thank you, my wife."  He whispered into the breeze that rustled across the grasses here just south of The Wood.  For that is who it must have been... the eggs given him by his wife from across the boundary of Potentiality had healed a dying God.

As the God before him recovered,  Altair fished out the remaining two eggs, running them, pale green and ocean blue, past one another as he let his repressed sorrow at the loss of Vega wash over him for a moment.

When the god stirred, Altair pocketed the eggs once more.

"You've been through a lot, but I think the worst is passed.  Do you have a name?"
If it had a face to smile with, reality would have retreated from Its visage. With bubbling laughter He looked at the chaos unfolding on the planet below through the still active Laangquor. 

Just as planned, a hand on the earth and eyes in the sky. Growing beneath their feet... 

A gray chitinous orb the size of a marble emerged from His waters, rising into the void. With a burst of orange light, it was gone.

On the surface of the flat planet, a gray chitinous orb, rolled out of orange light cast by a strange lantern on the floor of the world. The orb unrolled itself, revealed to be a long chitinous, slug-like body of some creature. The legs on its underside were all stubby translucent tentacles replete in black slime. Its 'face' was a mass of teeth and chelicerae with soft black flesh visible within. Running over its back were flourescent orange eyes flicking nervously in all directions.

This was a Kyigg'ka.  They burrowed through the earth using an acidic spittle, devouring the roots of plants. Kyigg'ka are usually in local groups. They consume this way until enough energy and material has been digested, usually taking about 2 weeks. At this point they bloat into a cyst. After a couple hours a tentacle to the surface erupts from this cyst, depositing the next form of its life-cycle.

The Kyogg'Ar. A slavering creature a little bigger than a lion, built just as muscular, and twice as mean. This creature never stops moving, its hunger is insatiable. It bounds and climbs on 6 muscular legs, its body contained in a thin gray translucent skin. The tips of its two toes per foot are capped with sharp teeth. Its head and neck are simply one long tentacle whose underside is freckled with slavering maws ringed in teeth and dripping with acidic spittle. while the top was specked with weak orange eyes. It hunted by tasting the air around it. The Kyogg'ar's life span is short, hunting non-stop for 3 days, however it is often fruitful for the beast as it flays the flesh from many creatures. 

At the end of the Kyogg'Ar's life-span, it will find the nearest, tallest, strongest tree and climb it. It will travel over to a branch and hang from it by its tentacle. There, it will pass into unconsciousness as its body swells and hardens. Within a day, its ribcage will burst open, releasing an angry cloud of Kyrinn'Nga. The Kyogg'Ar's gut has become a powerful digestive chamber, storing food for fat or directing it towards new organs which generate Kyrinn'Nga; however, the true purpose of the hive is producing new Kyigg'ka. The Kyrinn'Nga insects fly on 8  orange membranous wings growing out of the middle section of their gray 3-part body. They have no legs, instead having 2 black tentacles. They have no digestive systems themselves, as they have no need for them, their lives are all devoted towards bringing food from scavenged corpses or leaves. They still have viscious little mouths to tear away food for the hive, however. When defending the hive from invaders, Kyrinn'Nga will attach to the offender, and engage a metabolic reaction within themselves causing a small explosion of caustic acid.

Kyrinn'Nga hives last several months before the hive body swells too heavy with larval Kyigg'Ka, and falls to the ground. The new Kyigg'ka then burrow their way out of the dead hive and into the ground. Remaining Kyrinn'Nga will protect the nascent Kyigg'ka until they are safely underground, and then detonate themselves on the nearest living thing.

These organisms do not use DNA or RNA to program their cells. Instead small crystals of Doomstone with special channels for Moment are read by energy sensitive enzymes. Genetic differentiation between individuals is achieved by the chaotic nature of Moment, as each mote can differ from the other by origin, or whether or not it decays.


1pp spawn:
They thought they had killed him but the stone prison had merely frozen him. Then the world had disintegrated around him. The prison had been so strong that even the end of the world hadn't killed and there he had waited. Eons melted away around him, then he returned. Desha remembered him. This god had been one of the many that had chosen this prison for him, but this one had gone a step even farther then that. He had forged the prison with his foul doomstone. Why would he had come back? The imprisoned god watched Kyoaag N'gaas. As he watched Desha realized that Kyoaag N'gaas didn't recognize him. How could this be possible? It didn't matter, Desha would take advantage of it. Kyoaag N'gaas began to blast away the doomstone with gray water.

The fall had disoriented Desha, but he had survived mostly unharmed. But he could sense something was wrong with him. His form was deteriorating from being away from his own timeline. Perhaps Kyoaag N'gaas hadn't forgotten who he was. Desha purged the deteriorating form and took on a new one for this world. Now he appeared as an opaque, black fog instead of his majestic robed and masked form. This new form was a more primal form for a more primal world.

Near the top of the crater Desha could see a robed figure. From beneath the robe he could see light emerging. Even after all this time, light disgusted Desha. The god of darkness slowly crept up the crater until he engulfed the glowing, robed figure. "I am Desha, god of darkness. Who are you?"

Seconds after speaking to the figure, Desha sensed some force that was spying on him. He would deal with that later.

PP Stuff

1 PP Nourish - (Desha purges his deteriorating form and takes on a a new one. For the purpose of the game, Desha can not take on a humanoid form.)
--- The Member Formerly Known as GhostVampire
 Oh Time Lord... introducing yourself to a God grieving the loss/death/kidnapping/whoknowswhat of his Darkness-Goddess Wife (and searching for something to vent his anger on to boot) as the God of Darkness was perhaps *not* the smartest idea :|  But it'll gather the gods!  I think you should talk... fast

 watched as the being before him shed his old form like a snake would shed its skin, flesh splitting away and black smoke streaming from its chest to hover a few inches from the ground before approaching.

I am Desha, god of darkness ...

The remaining words barely had a chance to escape into the air before Altair darted forward, one hand reaching into the fog and impossibly grabbing ahold of its vapourous essence and lifting the entire cloud up into the air.  Unbridled fury raced through him as with his other hand, he ripped the mask from his face and turned his blinding visage upon the fog, which attempted to skitter away from the impossibly cold blue eyes that bored into its core.


Turning his head to the heavens, he shouted once more, even louder, if that could be believed.  "VASA!  VION!  ALTHAS!  TO ME, IMMEDIATELY!  OUR FAMILY REQUIRES ANSWERS."

His head turned back to the fog, and his hand in the fog squeezed tighter as with his teeth Altair pulled off his left glove and balled the glowing hand into a fist.

"WHERE IS MY VEGA?"  He demanded again. 

Though swift tried to turn his gaze away from the dark god his attention was once again drawn back to it as Altair screamed to the sky. Though slightly reluctant to return any attention to being who had taught him fear, his thirst for knowledge would not allow swift to not watch. There wasn’t after all much more in this young world to watch, he would fix that soon enough but for now he would watch.

As Swift again returned his gaze to Altair and Desha the golden light cast from the moon that was his form shone down upon them, though this dim light could not be seen against the brilliance that was being cast from Altair at this moment. Some part of swift hoped that this being of light would crush the creature, Though he knew that the time was not right for such a occurrence. The unfathomable path of potentiality had brought the god of darkness here and swift could sense that it was not to be destroyed , although recalling the feelings the dark one had caused him in those brief moments of contact; he didn’t relish the thought of helping it ether.

For now Swift would watch and see what he could learn, see what came of it all.

An' ye harm none, do what ye will
The night was rent with a noise, a shout, an unearthly godly cry. It was of such anger, such pain, the dark creatures of the wooded, darkened places quailed to hear it. Birds burst from their trees and reptiles leaped from the undergrowth to flee the horrid sound. But here in this darkest of corners, this most hidden of places, nestled between trees and shadows, barely a thing was stirred. Eago lifted his head to hear it, then bowed again.

"Was that...?"

"Him? Yes."

"Should I go to him?"

"I think..."


"Then let us move on."

Through the underbrush Eago moved. But he could feel her presence beside him. It was not an unpleasant feeling, that of the darkness watching him. Though Eago might curl a lip in ironic remembrance later, now he knew that there was nothing to be feared from the dark. It was cool and protecting. She was cool and protecting.

They reached a clearing made by fallen trees. The trunks were heaped upon each other, in the centre of the circular space. They reminded Eago of the sticks he had stacked to make the fire. It was almost as though someone had left them here. The trunks, without the protective cover of the wide leaves, was curiously bleached by the sun, almost petrified. They reminded him of the wood he had seen washed up along the shores of the world. Drift-wood. Could that sun have done all that? There was a sigh.

"I know I cannot see him. But perhaps I still can help him?"


"I can make something for him."

"A gift?"

"You'll say it was from you... or that it was left behind or..."

"Or what?"

"I cannot see him, yes?"

"That is your choice."

"Is it?"

Eago gazed fixedly at the stack of trunks. Yes, they would certainly do. But he wasn't sure he approved. He turned his back. Well, at least Altair would know someone loved him, he thought bitterly. He winced as he heard the wood shifting behind him. 
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