Lords of Creation WorldWarp IC Thread

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There can be only one explanation for the patterns we have seen in the rocks and stones, peoples and cultures, plants and animals.  One explanation that will allow us to make sense of the seams that run through the fabric of the world.
We, who are now One, were once Two

~Excerpt from “The WorldWarp” by Angelique Pyn.

“Some things end in fire, some things end in ice.
But some things start with fire, and all must pay a price.

~Children’s rhyme, author unknown

 In the universe floated Mishway and Culthet.  Where they had come from was unknown, but what they would become is our story.


The mass hurtled through the sky, a tail of fire surrounding it as it streaked towards the stormy seas that made up most of the plane.  Lightning bolts reached out from the pitch-black thunderheads as if to knock this offending source of light from the skies for its presumption. 

But the mass continued unimpeded, striking the surface and releasing a huge plume of steam as it continued to descend.  The water got blacker and blacker as what little light was present on the surface struggled to penetrate the waters. There was only a few seconds of warning as the water before the mass grew dark.

The mass slammed into the side of the seamount, punching through the inferior rock for nearly a hundred feet before coming to a halt.  It was only then that it could be seen clearly, an egg-shaped thing of darkness, wreathed in bubbling Otherness that dissipated into the surrounding ocean, eventually revealing an old tomb from some forgotten empire from somewhere beyond imagining.

Within, the once-orderly passages that had been the last resting place of a nameless king were nothing but a memory,  collapsed in the transit from beyond the reality of the universe.  The king himself and all his treasure had been removed ages ago, stolen bit by bit by daring thieves.

Not that the clever creators had made the task of removing the gold and gems easy.  Traps lined every wall, every door, every chest.  Now-powdered skeletons had *also* lined the corridors, in some cases gumming up the works of the very traps that had taken their lives.

Only a single chamber, the one that had once held the King's body remained intact, and it had an occupant once more.  A coherent shard of the Otherness, spun in the darkness, unable to escape.  Upset, it let out a wail into the darkness.

And the darkness answered.  Crawling from the walls, floating up from the pits and oozing from the nooks and crannies came souls, hundreds upon hundreds of souls from bodies stuck for centuries.  The floor beneath the shard grew thick with slimy luminescence, the souls wrapping around and over one another before eventually turning their attention upwards.  They wrapped around the Otherness, and then through it, absorbing small bits of the Otherness as they went.  The shard grew smaller and smaller, yet the souls that had picked up part of its essence remained nearby.  Finally, the last sliver vanished and the tainted souls coalesced into a vaguely humanoid form, souls coursing up and down, screaming silently as they traveled across its form.  It spoke, and the remaining souls fled in terror.

“I am Itja-Rek”


     Grass whistled breathlessly, floating languidly against Mishway's warm air. The plane was silent and empty. Empty, and forgotten. For aside from the breeze and the sun, there was nothing. Oh sure, there were some grasses and trees, even the occasional shrub – but that was it. There were no insects in the air, small mammals among the plains, or fish within the lakes and ponds. Nothing ever happened, and it seemed nothing ever would. The very fiber of the world stank of a monotonous sameness.  So when finally, after eons of sameness and lassitude,  one small section of air began to twist and dilute weirdly, nothing was around to bear witness.

     “Oho? What’s this now?”

      The voice seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere all at once. But again, Mishway did not seem to care. The wind continued to cruise along unperturbed, and the self-same sun continued its eternal radiation. 

      The tear began to deepen, and with a hissing pop a hole in reality was torn asunder, just long enough for something to fall through, landing softly on the grasses of Mishway. The form was female, and loosely garbed in a white dress. She clasped her arms around herself, shivering as if from cold.

     “It’s so quiet. I wonder what happened here.”

     The goddess (for that’s what she was) picked a direction and began to stroll. Everywhere was the same: balmy air, sparse patches of larger vegetation amidst fields of grass. She laughed.

     “I dare say we’ve come upon something delightful” she said, to herself. She spun, laughing. “No, can't you feel it?  Something happened here, long ago. This is all that’s left.”

     The goddess smiled as she arrived at one of the strange, curled trunk trees. “No, this place is like an empty canvass. Whatever happened is long past. It is ripe for new inventions. Just think, dear Sonnet. We could be lords of creation!” The goddess leaned against the tree, still smiling to herself.

     “Why? I can’t tell you why. This place has been cloistered, hidden from the likes of us. It was dumb luck that brought us here. But if we wandered into it, whatever has kept this place stagnant is failing.”

     The goddess arced a graceful hand through the air. “I say let all which would be, be! Let all who would come, come! This place shall be cloistered no longer! I say, let them come!”

If you look past the plot and the voice acting, Metroid: Other M was an okay game. Not a great game, but an adequate one. Not using the Metroid item collect jingle though? That, was a mistake.

Almost in answer, a crack rang out through the intervening stillness. The source was a tree, perhaps a few feet away, perhaps miles, it was impossible to tell in this most austere of environs. The tall grass bowed to the sound as to a sovereign. And another crack. A great tree, perhaps tall, perhaps not, hung with great spheres of colour had delivered one such orb onto the breezy grass. Only it wasn't a sphere. A single fissure, a crack, was racing along the smooth surface of the sphere-that-wasn't-a-sphere, splitting and spider-webbing, dividing the bright orange shell. Then a piece came loose and a cry rang out, like the crack, but not. The shell fell apart and divulged its contents into the waiting world.

A twisted creature, still dewy from placental juices, came screaming into the silent world. A great curved beak stretched from the face of the creature, the tool to bring it to life. Its arms were spread with downy feathers and its hands and feet were gnarled, hooked appendages of cruelty. The thing flopped feebly onto the grass, writhing and screaming.

But almost the moment it fell, the thing began to change. The feathers were growing back into the arms, the scaly skin smoothing to smooth and supple flesh, and the beak shrunk to a nose. A woman was now lying amidst the evidence of her birth, blinking birthing juices from her eyes and staring at the world. 

The woman stood. In a smooth movement, she wiped the fluid from her face. Then she proceeded to do the same to the rest of her body until a woman, perhaps plump, perhaps not perfectly shaped, but a woman, stood whole and clean in the grass. And she took a breath.

"Dearie me..."

She spoke slowly and clearly, and the now rushing winds carried her words to the distant figure of the woman.

"Is this life?"

She cast an appraising eye over her pale limbs.

"Rather dirty, isn't it?"

She cast her eye forward, to the woman, and stood there, appraising her slimmer, more supple form, and knew at once she was different, alien. When she next spoke, her tone was colder, and the wonder was gone.

"Who are you?" 

Under a million tons of ink dark water, stone, the cold core of the world, lay.  No fires seared the belly of the plane, all long since burned out, leeched away by the oppressive cold.  Stillness did not reign, however, thousands upon thousands of white, threadlike worms slipped through the crevasses of rock, seeking only to cannibalize their own kind.

A century, by mortal ken, passed, and one worm grew larger, feeding upon the flesh of its brethren.  Two, and the loathsome thing expanded from the length of a finger and the width of vein a monstrous creature two meters long and six inches thick.  Had the other worms, growing scarcer now as it devoured them, possessed brains they would have called it God.

Five centuries now passed, half a thousand years, the thing, the great worm, had consumed the last of its kind, stretching twenty meters in length, cracking stone between its massive teeth.  The old igneous rock of the core groaned beneath the prodigious weight of the beast's girth.  It wandered a year, insensate to the passage of time though it was, seeking more food, finding none.  

At the end of its year of wandering, the creature uttered a wail of agony, hunger pains writhing in its belly. The souls of a thousand thousand worms, insignificant as they were, cried out for life, wailing that primal demand.  The universe heard.  

For too long the waters of Culthet had rippled with echoes of past deeds, breezes carrying shouts and cries half remembered.  The land, the very fabric of being called out for gods and mortals, deeds of glory and atrocity, new divinity to fuel the fires of existence.

The essence of the plane, forgotten wonders, vanished treasures and dissipated luxuries flowed into The Worm.  A whispering legion of voices, all in a silent chorus of despair and lust for famous days, exploded into the mind of The Worm, blasting its crude brain into a new form.  An instant passed, neurons fired and rewired, the voices howled their triumph, before, like ancient parchment, disintegrating.  
Into the void of the remade brain, sentience awoke.  

Davos.  That is my name.  The Worm..  The Aristocrat.  My titles.

 All along Davos's body, new protrusions emerged.  Spindles of flesh and cartilaginous pseudopods, each tipped with a pore oozing clear, acidic fluid.  With a burst of newfound power, Davos hurled himself through stone, carving vast tunnels that in centuries past would have consumed decades of his labor.  The acid from his skin left weird patterns on the walls and floor, inscribing everything with a bizarre symbology of unconscious divinity. 

After a time of this exertion, a new thought entered Davos's recently reformed mind.  

Where am I from?  Who am I?  Where am I going?

Tentatively, Davos stretched his thoughts away from his corporeal form.  At first, when ever he thought of something else, the worm began to dissolve, matter sloughing off.  Horrified, Davos recalled his will and recovered for a time.  The questions, however, continued to plague him.  When he made a second attempt, he was far more successful.  Leaving a fragment of his power to secure the material of his body, Davos expanded his consciousness out through the world, seeking some other source of power, some other divinity. 

 Syreene watched as once more the plane's cloister lapsed, and divinity was...messily... thrown forth.

She remained leaning against the tree, but called out in response:

"I am Syreene. I am the the spring growth that sustains the summer winds and gives birth to the Lord of Autumn. I am newly arrived here in this place. I would imagine that your... instantiation was unique. At least, that is not how I came to be here."

Despite the distance, her voice carried easily, amplified by the lack of, well, anything really, and her own divinity.

"I've given thy mine, now tell me thine -- with whom do I speak?"
If you look past the plot and the voice acting, Metroid: Other M was an okay game. Not a great game, but an adequate one. Not using the Metroid item collect jingle though? That, was a mistake.

And then like a physical blow, modesty hit her. She marshaled the winds to her aid, and they whipped and spun about her, sending leaves and the long grass dancing into the air. Like an expert tailor, the wind wove the foliage about her until she was wrapped in a garment of soft teal, impossibly intricate and endlessly enveloping.

And then the two women stood there, one at ease, one at attention; one in simple garb, one in extensive dress. And the woman spoke.

"Why, I appear to be patron of this place, keeper of this country, owner of this environs, after all, you are other," her gaze was soft and pleasant, but her tone had a deadly edge to it, "And I see no other takers."

She was ashamed, there was no other word for it. Almost as soon as she had seen this alien creature, she had detested it oddity, its strangeness. And for it to have seen her in this most compromising of positions? This most vulnerable of states? Well, it was unforgivable.

"You may refer to me as your highness, or your majesty," she said, finding the words fell nicely upon her lips, "Or perhaps, the Monarch." 

 "Ah, but Monarch, that's the beauty of it, isn't it? Your world here is empty -- I know not the why or the how, but it is. Speak unto my truthfully -- have you no wish to fill these vast expanses with creations of your own devising?"

The goddess patted the ground upon which she stood, the curlwood tree at her back.

"Can't you feel it? This land itself is lethargic. It has remained too long static and unchanging. It cries out for anything, for us, to set it free from its limitless tedium!" Syreene paused. "No, I don't think I'm getting worked up." Another pause. "Well, we'll just have to play that by ear then, won't we?" Syreene returned her gaze to the Monarch. "Where were we? Ah, yes. Life. Change. As it is, as you say, your demesne,  I shall allow you first go at it!"
If you look past the plot and the voice acting, Metroid: Other M was an okay game. Not a great game, but an adequate one. Not using the Metroid item collect jingle though? That, was a mistake.
Within the tomb, the creature, Itja-Rek, was busy trying to figure out just what it had become.  Part of it was the souls of all of these thieves, explorers and even a few servants killed and buried with their lord.  The god idly wondered for a moment if the king's spirit was somewhere within his form as well.  His souls were, as a rule, terrified.  Most of them had settled into a long, deep slumber, bound to their mortal shells by magical tricks of the master trapmakers, and were unprepared for their sudden servitude.  Those were a quiet wailing in the back of his mind.  Always there, but... he could tune them out.

A few, the bravest of the souls, were less afraid.  Some were curious, others wary, but Itja-Rek had a feeling that soon they would start to express themselves in some manner.

As for the other part of himself, the part that had allowed all this to happen, the Otherness... it was still there, dispersed among all of the souls, but he could feel it like a weight in each one, binding them to his consciousness and his form.

Itja-Rek turned to directly face one of the walls and stepped forward, form dissolving into a liquid-like state and sliding through the cracks and seams in the stones until he met the outside water, where he reformed.  It was black, but a faint light glowed in the distance.

Itja-Rek floated towards the light, but stopped as a presence made itself known in his collective mind, tickling it with its attention.

"Who comes into my brain uninvited and unannounced?  Show yourself, or state your intent." 

A gate appeared made out of finest steel. The gate was closed and no life behind it was seen. Then the gate opened and a being most fair took his first trembling step out in this new world. His legs shook, sweat ran down his forehead and his hair, black as the night covered his pale face as if it had been a veil made out of finest silk. Black wings stuck out of the being's back, a sword shook in his hand and black robes stuck to his frail body.

He looked like an angel...

Djaf as his name was fell down on his knees, his sword fell from his hand and pierced the fair earth as he raised his hands against the blue sky and screamed. As he screamed his voice grew louder and louder, the earth he stood on began to crack as the terrefying noise of a lamenting God spread across the newborn world.

Minutes passed. The gate behind him was still there...but no one else came...he remained as he were. A lone being dressed in blackest robes surrounded by the clear and fair colours of a world filled with the possibility of life.

His mind was suddenly away by a subtle hand. Memories, emotions and dreams, everything taken away to make place for what was to come. A plan was placed in the future God´s head and a flame was lightend in his chest. A flame of pure divinity.

He stopped screaming. He arose and made a shovel out of thin air and began to dig.

Deep in the waters, something erupted. It was not a big eruption, or very powerful, or noticable. It wasn't even very diferent from the things that surrounded it. Still, it stood out, for whatever reason. It boiled, with more of the strangeness coming out. From where, it was not apparent. But more poured out, thickening the place with its strange energies. It didn't expand, so much as it condesnced, pouring into a shape, a figure.

Later, although how much was unknown, for time had seemed to bend and shift around the eruption, it suddenly stopped. For an even longer eterinty, nothing happened. Then a tentacle extended outward an probed the lanscape. As it passed through trees and rock and water, what it touched changed, sometimes dissolving, sometimes being warped. It quested for a while, learning about the world it was in.

It then burped, expending several bubbles of itself out into the world. These bubbles stablized, then floated off, slowing passing through the world, eating from the existence. They left behind a trail of the changed existence, and slowly grew bigger. But they were not too last, for they quickly fell apart, and dissolved inot nothingness.

Then, the sound of the burp came, it's timing and positioning mixed up by the essence of the being, harsh and abrupt, unlike the flowing form would make appropriate.


The sound pulsed outward, with varying speeds depending on the direction. It fell apart quickly, however, and the being began to look beyond where it had been born.
Take a look at my Handbook: The Pet Store: A Familiar Keeper's Handbook Nacht: "Vecna can do ANYTHING given preptime. He's like an undead lich god Batman."
The winged God dug furiously. His black wings held high above him in an attempt to bring him shadow from the ever-shining sun. Sweat ran down from his shoulders and he stopped for a moment to remove his robes. Now wearing nothing but a loincloth the newborn God continued to dig.

Soon a wide squared of bare earth was seen, grass, bushes, shrubs, everything that was alive had been taken away by the winged God. The pattern had to be put in place!

The dark God raised his hands and seeds rained down upon the bare earth. At the same moment the seeds touched the ground, grass began to grow, flowers fair and beautiful bloomed and trees popped out of the ground with loud popping noices. Trees that grew, trees that prospered, trees that flourished under the careful care of their winged Gardener.

In the middle of the garden Djaf made a small stone square. There he willed three gates with no doors in to existence. The first gate was made my finest gold. The second gate was made by rugged stone warm to the touch. The third gate took the form of a circle, it's sides covered with fine thorns.

A smile touched Djaf´s lips as he turned his back on the three gates. At the very end of the square the Dark God made a small dwelling for himself. A tiny house made out of stone, a well and a stone chair for sitting purposes.

Djaf summoned stones out of the nothingness and began to make a wall. Four feet tall and two feet broad. The wall soon encircled the whole garden. A Gate was put on place. A gate made out of finest bronze. A gate covered with pictures of things that would come. Living beings, dead beings, winged beings, beings that lurk in the deep seas...all of that which one day would pass through those gates. Enter the garden and leave this world for another.

So the Garden of final ends had been built. All souls of those departed knew where it was and furthermore they knew that they had to get there. That there was peace to find behind the golden gate.

A spell was placed on the garden, a spell that stopped the living from finding if they were not meant to do so.

Djaf smiled faintly and looked at his creation with those shining eyes with his. Those that shone as suns.

" This is...good..."

He muttered. His voice dark and loud. He nodded, spread his wings and flew against the skies to explore this new world.

Mold land 1 PP: The garden of final ends - A place where the dead rests. A pre-cursor to the true after-life.
The winged god flew high above this new world. A smile touched his lips as the wind passed through his hair and stroked his pale skin. This was joy...this was a feeling he yet remembred.

Soon the winged God noticed something on the ground. Two beings...both with divine fire resting within them. Both Gods just as he.

God...that was an odd word. What did it mean? And yet as he pondered that question an answer appeared withinin him.

A god is one that prepares for the future. Prepares for those that the worlds truly belong to. Those favoured by your Father.

The winged God smiled at knowing this important truth. Not pondering where or why it had been spoken he rested his wings and flew down to the beings that looked so much alike him on the inside.

His voice was dark and loud as he spoke. His black robes hung delicately from his shoulders. His eyes shone...and he spoke.

" I bring you greetings, Siblings from a God of something that is yet to come to this fair world of our. My name is Djaf. Agent of the pattern, guarding of the gates and curious explorer! "

The winged God smiled, and stretched out his hands.

Syreene watched amiably as the newcomer arrived. She smiled, raising a hand in welcome. "See? I told you we were the start of something glorious!" The goddess paused, eyes momentarily focused on the bridge of her nose. "Why must you be so suspicious? Odd manners mean nothing!" Syreene cleared her voice and smiled.

"Greetings, Djaf. This is The Monarch. Why, I was just telling her that she should bring some life to this barren place. What about yourself though? Were you likewise spat forth from one of the trees of this place, or was that an aspect of birth peculiar to Her Majesty?"
If you look past the plot and the voice acting, Metroid: Other M was an okay game. Not a great game, but an adequate one. Not using the Metroid item collect jingle though? That, was a mistake.

A flickering image appeared before Itja-Rek.  Apparently solid, for the water had rushed away from it when it manifested, the thing was a clot of blood vessels and flexing muscles.  The contracting fibrous muscles strained against one another, as the whole thing seemed simply to be a sphere.  A voice, low and heavy, emanated from it.

 I am called Davos.  The Worm.  The Aristocrat.  These names echo within the confines of my mind, strangely, so strangely.  I seek... to be.  To live the lust of life that all things do.  To build high the pyre of my existence, to spread my seed across this old, tired world.  Yet, I have no template, no cast to pore vital energy into.  Do you know how to birth a moving thing?

In the core of the world, silent now, with Davos thinking other thoughts, communing with foreign gods, the rock turn asunder by his joy at ascension hardened.  The acid leaked from his pores, at first scribing insane symbols on the stone, now dissipated.  The volatile liquid, gaseous now, ate away at the bones of the earth, cutting at only dirt and rock, however, level metals and gems untouched.  So it was that five caverns, and tunnels connecting them, came to be hollow.  colossal, cyclopean things these vast caves.  Rough stalactites of some mineral or metal dripped from the ceilings, while ridges of the metals sliced across the floors.  Miles wide these places were, large enough to hold a mountain.

2PP-Mold Land, Moderate:  The Caverns of Davos
1PP-Nourish Land:  metals, minerals and gems of all types are scattered, exposed, throughout the Caverns
" Wonderful "

The winged god said with something dreaming hidden within his voice.

" My purpose here is to build the Garden. Tend the garden. Guard the garden...."

He stood there for a couple of moments staring up against the blue sky. His mouth slightly open and his black hair flying in the wind.

" I came here to build my garden...but this world is most fair, oh, beautiful lady of the trees. I wish to assist you in your endavour and help you in bringing life to this world. So that one day all of Creation will be a living place..."

His gaze was unfocused, confused even as he looked around.

" So...where should we start? "

"We can start right...HERE!

Exploding into a flash of motion, the goddess thrust her arm towards the sky. The ground around her boiled and erupted in response, breaking the monotonous expanse of grassland into rolling hills.  

Eyes half-lidded in concentration, Syreene raised her other arm. Shrubs and trees began to spring forth, varied in form and diverse beyond anything Mishway had known for the longest of times. The forested hills peered far into the distance, presiding over everything, the highest elevation on the entire plane (which, given its relative flatness, was not saying much).

The curltrunk tree that Syreene had been leaning on seemed to shiver in the sudden rush of air and energy, as if it felt its solitary reign come to an abrupt end.

"Behold! Creation!"

PP Expenditure
-1 PP Mold Land -- Raises a portion of Mishway into a triskelion shaped hill. 
-1 PP Nourish Land -- covers the newly-raised hills in all manner of trees and plant-life, mostly deciduous. 
If you look past the plot and the voice acting, Metroid: Other M was an okay game. Not a great game, but an adequate one. Not using the Metroid item collect jingle though? That, was a mistake.
Itja-Rek listened to the thing talk, taking in the thing's form for a long moment before replying.

"Davos.  I am Itja-Rek, new-born of the old-dead.  I too feel this urge, my very body yearns to create life once more, after such a long time alone in the dark and the cold."

Itja-Rek paused, thinking about what he had just said.  His souls, those that were not screaming, had slipped some of those words into his mind.  One had even tried to take command of other souls in his conglomeration.  Itja-Rek sent a stern shock to the offending soul, which writhed in place along the god's neck.

"It is dark and cold, is it not?  I would certainly like to see more of what lies around us than what pitiful light we currently have."

Itja-Rek held out his hand and concentrated, willing what he had thought to come to life.

Above his hand a faint image appeared.  A gelatinous cap, easily eight feet in diameter, trailing numerous tentacles.  As he concentrated, the image grew more solid, the cap growing translucent, the tentacles starting to swell in number and size.  Eventually, small lights appeared on the tips of the tentacles, providing a small amount of light to the cave.  The god breathed on the jellyfish, and it floated away, dividing as it went.

"We have but to will it, and it is, Davos.  What is it that you wish to will to be?"

1 PP:  Spawn Beast (lesser): Light-lure jellyfish.  Translucent jellyfish that lure in prey using lights on the tips of some of their tentacles.  Stalks the deeps of Culthet.  (probably a level 8 or so creature, I'll make a statblock shortly)  
Djaf parted his lips, bent down and breathed at the ground. Blood dripped down from his lips and from him life began to spread. Insects, tiny mammals and a flock of birds of all kinds burst out of that lone drop of blood. The birds flew in all directions, screeching, beeping and chirping looking much like a colourful explosion. Buzzing insects and squeeking rodents ran in all direction and quickly began to establish homes for themselves around the hill.

" Behold the beauty of life..."

He continued with a smile playing on his lips. Knowing fully well of what he doomed these small beings to.

1 PP Nourish Land: Creates an abundance of smaller animals including simple insects, small mammals and a flock of birds.

Joy seemed to be popping into being all throughout the Monarch's body, like some bright and cheery contagion. That one had seemed to accept her authority so easily, and now there were more subjects!

"As Queen of this land, I believe it is my duty to kick things o... oh..." she was interrupted by the sudden bringing-into-being of things, "Well, it's my duty to carry things along."

She clapped her hands together, and an jet of petals and bugs and all manner of bright and cheery things exploded from her hands to colour the sky with their gaudy, flittering shapes. Hundreds of these things settled upon the Monarch's form swelling her dress even further.

"I hereby decree the beginning of the Age of Gardens!"

And as she said this, she swept her arms outwards, and an explosion of colour seemed to ripple out about her. In actuality, the grass about her feet and for many metres beyond, bloomed suddenly into vibrantly hued blossoms.

1 PP Nourish Land - A garden of brightly coloured flowers surrounds the base of the egg tree. 

Syreene nodded approval. "Ah, but what is a garden without tenders?" Before The Monarchs insects had the chance to properly disperse, Syreene extended a hand, deftly snaring one. She cupped the bug in her hands, and for a moment, golden light flared within it.

The goddess opened her hands again, tossing the results of her divine magic onto the ground. A cat-sized Mantid appeared to cough, perplexity evident on its mandibles. It's chitinous exoskeleton was a vibrant silver, the edges gilded. A beat passed, and suddenly there were twenty, then four hundred, and then they too scattered.

Syreene curtsied towards The Monarch, a half-smile on her face. "May I present to you, Queen, your garden's royal tenders."

PP Expenditure

-1 PP Spawn Beast (lesser) -- Mantid Tenders. Cat-sized mantids that pollinate, weed, and otherwise tend the various plantlife around the Triskelion.

If you look past the plot and the voice acting, Metroid: Other M was an okay game. Not a great game, but an adequate one. Not using the Metroid item collect jingle though? That, was a mistake.

Itja-Rek.  A new name, a new thing.  I wonder if there are others, other bits of fact and fiction, information, existing in this place.  I wonder what hides from our sight in the dark. 

Upon creation of the Light-Lure Jellyfish.

Ah, this will bring the bones of this world to mine eyes.  The vast waters still too long.  I once felt the pangs of hunger; the Jellyfish must eat. 

Twisting, rippling in front the Worm, black dots of nothingness began to swim, like sunspots on a mortal eye.  A moment more, or an hour in this timeless place, and the distortion exploded.

The inky blots vanished a foot from the origin, and a cloud of tiny organisms took their places.  Three eyed, albino creatures with fan tails and soft, segmented bodies.  Slim as thread, the creatures filled the water around the two gods for an instant, before darting off into the blackness.  Some would fall prey to the Light-Lures, others would subsist and propagate off of the jets of mineral nutrients scattered across the ocean floor.

1PP- Spawn Beast: Thrill Worms (It'll all make since in a couple of weeks.)
1PP- Nourish Land: Volcanic mineral and nutrient vents are scattered across the ocean floor.
"Yes, Eat.  All things must eat eventually, be they new or old or big or small, large and bulbous or thinnest of all."  
Itja-Rek mused, watching the Worm as it created the tiny Thrill Worms.

Itja-Rek watched the last of the jellyfish go floating gently after the worms, and shrugged in annoyance.  Now his tunnel was dark again.  Raising his hands again, he gestured to the walls of the tunnel, and then, as if an afterthought, towards the exit, which he had never been beyond.  Here and there the rocks began to glow with a faint, sickly luminescence, casting a pale, almost flickering light throughout the length of the tunnel.

Floating forwards, the soul-formed god looked out over the underwater landscape, dotted here and there with glowing rocks and Light-Lure jellyfish.  Turning, he looked back towards the Worm.

"I gather you have seen more than what is in this cave.  Do you know what else lies in these deeps?"


1 PP:  Nourish Land:  Luminescent stones appear in and around the Seamount where Itja-Rek crashed
5/6 PP remaining.
The winged god laughed. It was a laugh filled with unpreceeded joy as everywhere around him new life came in to existence.

" There is so much to do in this world! So much space! So many possibilities! "

He said rather loudly and took a couple of steps away from the others. Surveying their creations.

" There are so many things that needs to be done. Oh...I...I´m sorry I don´t think I properly greeted you, Monarch. "

The God of Death kneeled in front of the fairy queen and proclaimed.

" Good tidings to ye, Your majesty. I am Djaf, God of what is to come and protecter of those that will one day need it. "

He arose once more and asked the two Godesses.

" I am new in to existence in both mind and flesh, May I ask you two a simple question? Why are you two here? Where is your part in the pattern? "


Many leagues away from the foot of the now flourishing Triskelion, separated by time and space from the events unfolding there yet intimately related to what transgressed within that Garden, something stirred.  When the twin deities of death and the mother of the seasons set about their task of creation so many miles away, the world of Mishway changed. 

As the hills sprouted and flowers flourished, while the mantid’s set about their task of tending to their lord’s creation, the air of the plane, which had sat stagnant for millennia shifted.  At first it was merely a small outrushing of air, not at all dissimilar to an escaped breath from the lungs.  However, it travelled and shifted, flowing over the endless barren green fields, past the occasional lone stagnant tree, until a current had been formed.

This current travelled for leagues, along the way loosing much of its strength and versatility, fading slowly until it was just a simple breeze.  But even this breeze was foreign to this place, to the stillness of Mishway, and amazingly as it died out and settled it rustled the branches of a single lone tree that stood sentinel over the green fields.  The branches of the tree shifted and rustled in that wind and a score of green leaves were dislodged and began to spiral towards the ground below.

And spiral they did, those green leaves danced the most delicate and intricate of waltzes.  They spiraled and curtseyed, orbited and intertwined, occasionally sneaking a kiss before two of the objects were separated again by this small quantum of choreographed chaos.  As the final leaf touched down, settling into the grass in the shade below the lonesome tree, it seemed to dissolve into the open air.

The matter literally crumbled, but in its place some ethereal energy floated and expanded.  That energy started out small, but quickly it doubled, then tripled, then quadrupled in size until a glowing cloud of the strange substance which was neither solid, gas, nor liquid had enveloped the tree.  The cloud was luminescent, giving off a strange eerie glow as patterns and designs reminiscent of nothing that this world had ever beheld before swam within its substance.  The air surrounding this apparition was suddenly filled with a subtle melody, akin to the whistling of the wind that spawned this entity, glorious and exhilarating in its simplicity. 

Then, in the midst of light and melody, that cloud of energy became aware of itself as separate from the world around itself.  It observed the tree shaking in its presence, dislodging hundreds of its leaves to repeat the dance that had taken place mere moments before, but this time with scores of partakers as compared to the handful before.  Viewing this, the apparition had one thought “Beautiful”.

The now solidified corruption began to move, flitting it's way along the bottom of the ocean. It soon saw something through the waters. Light's flickered in the distance. He moved closer to them, attracted by the light. He came upon strange creatures, that glowed with a flickering light.

He reached out and touched them. As he did, the energies that made up his body suddenly enveloped the creature, and spat it out again. But it did not spit it out the same. This new creature radiated a unforgiving blackness that stiffled all light nearby. The creature, now hidden by a sphere of blackness moved onward.

As he did this, he became aware of the two others like him. He moved toward them, going toward the feelings. He plunged through a wall, leaving it warped, dissolved and twisted where he touched it. In a moment he plunged through into an opening, ruining a rather nice wall in the process.

And he was there with the two others.


-1 PP: Spawn Beast: Lesser: Shadow-Eater Jellies: Surrounded by eternal darkness, they stalk the depths to devour light, which they can feed on.

6/7 PP
Take a look at my Handbook: The Pet Store: A Familiar Keeper's Handbook Nacht: "Vecna can do ANYTHING given preptime. He's like an undead lich god Batman."
Barely had the words left the god's mouth when he felt another presence moving towards him and Davos.  Briefly polling his coherent souls for the proper protocol in such situations, he turned towards the presence and said:

"Be on your guard, Davos.  Something approaches."

Moments later, the wall of his tunnel warped and spat out a... thing, which floated in the middle of the tunnel.  Sparing a sad glance at his formerly unblemished wall, he addressed the floating mass.

"And what gives you the right to ruin my wall like that?  Your name.  Now." 

The soul of Hulnajekthulazirettyulopjuwarsez stirred as this new being began to create. Once, he had been a mortal psion who had entered the king's tomb to find some secret to defeat an encroaching dark force. He found what he sought, but the traps in the tomb claimed his life and spirit. Now he was a part of this Itja-Rek. Hulnajekthulazirettyulopjuwarez (Hulna for short)  fought the urge to sleep. He would siphon this being's power little by little, to avoid its notice, and become a god himself. But for the moment, he'd have to be content with altering the creations of his host. And so he manipulated the glowing stones and turned them into living, growing beings of stone that grew into strange shapes and began to fight each other for essential resources, like better living conditions, food (each other), and pockets of air. Hulna smiled at his new creation and returned to siphoning his hosts divine power.

-1 PP Spawn Beast: rock things (about level 6 constructs)
6/6 PP

Syreene turned towards Djaf.

"Why, I exist simply as an agent of change. Time passes, things change, myself and the universe with them. I am the heartbeat of whatever lands I find, guiding the circadian rhythms of the world itself, waxing and waning as needed." She frowned.

"My counterpart thinks less of our purpose, but I can safely ignore him currently."
If you look past the plot and the voice acting, Metroid: Other M was an okay game. Not a great game, but an adequate one. Not using the Metroid item collect jingle though? That, was a mistake.
"Really? Ruined?"

The entity spared a glance at the tunnel it had carved into the stone.

"Looks fine to me. Not bad at all. Not perfect by any means, but still nice. Better than it was before, anyway."

He moved toward the one who had addresed it.

"I don't know if I have a name. Or if I need one. But Karak will do. I was born into it, so it might as well be what I am called."
Take a look at my Handbook: The Pet Store: A Familiar Keeper's Handbook Nacht: "Vecna can do ANYTHING given preptime. He's like an undead lich god Batman."
"But now there are two tunnels which somewhat diminishes the-"

Itja-Rek shook his head.  Did it really matter?

"I guess it is of no real consequence.  I am Itja-Rek, and that is Davos, who calls himself the Worm, although I do not see how that is an accurate title.  I take it you come from Outside.  What lies beyond this tunnel?  I have yet to leave it."

As Itja-Rek spoke, he felt a strange itching coming from within himself.  Moments later, several of the stones which had been glowing began to mutate in shape, turning into dull brutes made of stone that began smashing their stony fists into one another.  Annoyed at yet another intruder in his cave, Itja-Rek picked each one up and threw them from the tunnel, knowing that the water would prevent them from coming to too much harm.

"Come out!"
 he cried to the walls of his tunnel.  "I want to know who did this!  Enough meddling with what is mine!" 

But no one emerged.  Itja-Rek returned to the other gods.

"Did either of you see who did that?"

The leaves had settled on the ground, resting ponderously between leaves of grass, no longer captivating the newborn God’s attention.  The luminescent spectral cloud of a deity rose several dozen feet into the air and surveyed the land around itself.  For miles in all direction stretched only tedious monotonous grassy plains and the occasional lone tree, standing in solitude.  Once again a single word echoed within its thoughts Boring.

Reaching with divine power into the ground below, gripping the roots of the earth, and pulling up with all of its strength, it tore vast stretches of the land from the bosom of the plains and hefted them high into the air.  Suspended in the open air, the deity invested a portion of its power into these mountains, setting them upon a spiraling, sweeping, orbiting course modeled on that of the leaves that had fallen from the lone tree.  Unlike those leaves however, these floating mountains would never descend to the earth again.

Floating up to the heights at which it had hung the waltzing mountains, the apparition marveled at its work and took a moment to appreciate the beauty of their dance.  From this vantage though, the deity noticed a shift in the topography and color of the endless plains far to the north east.  It began to slowly drift towards this anomaly, this oasis of color in the desert of green, intent upon observing its beauty far closer.

2PP Mold Land Moderate:  Absalom tears vast chuncks out of the earth and creates the Waltzing Mountains, a spiralling series of peaks in the sky that orbit around the crater created in their wake.

Syreene's gaze caught on the distant horizon. Huge earthmotes were being thrown from the ground with massive force, floating upwards in a strange spiral shape.

Some time later, she noticed an ephemeral tinge to the air coming from the same direction. "Look yonder" she finally spoke up. "Another of our kin stalks this realm."

She stood up, arms spread wide, palms up, enjoying the feeling of wind over her skin. "Greetings, wanderer. I am called Syreene. What brings you to this grove?"
If you look past the plot and the voice acting, Metroid: Other M was an okay game. Not a great game, but an adequate one. Not using the Metroid item collect jingle though? That, was a mistake.
"No I did not. Still, what was somebodies will return to it, so one can use them to find the one who created it."

He reached out, and carefully grabbed one of them, making sure to touch it as little as possible. He carefully hollowed out an area inside the stone with a tentacle, then deposited the creature there.

"For later, when we do that. And outside is ocean, dark and dank. I can't imagine anything else that could be so...nice. Needs some freshening up, of course, but still....Who knows?"
Take a look at my Handbook: The Pet Store: A Familiar Keeper's Handbook Nacht: "Vecna can do ANYTHING given preptime. He's like an undead lich god Batman."

The ill-defined God drifted towards the strange anomaly it saw in the distance, closing the distance in not so great a time.  As it drifted closer however, a strange tingle carried on the air, an unknown energy that reverberated through this stagnate plane that seemed to emanate not from the strange hills but instead from something in its vicinity. 

Dropping down till it was at ground level again, the God drifted into the grove and began to examine the activity within.  Flowers blooming in the sun, adorned with a kaleidoscope of vibrant colors, trees swaying in a barely perceptible breeze as strange six legged chittinous creatures and larger furry quadrapeds crawled along their length.  The God was fascinated, and the colors within its form began to dance with ever more vibrancy whilst the melody that accompanied it became ever livelier.

Coming to a clearing within this beautiful place, the newborn Deity stumbled upon three peculiar figures.  Two were tall and lithe, the third shorter and more plump, all had four limbs and one had two strange black wings sprouting from its back.  Manes of strangely colored and textured matter flowed from the top of their heads, ranging in color from darkest obsidian black to golden strands to starkly white.  The small plump one was adorned in some rather ostentatious teal fabrics of incredible complexity that caught the ethereal God's attention, though it seemed rather too loud, for the setting.

One of them motioned towards the being and noise began to pour from an opening located on the lower end of a sphere atop the rest of its form.  Strangely, the newborn God discovered that it these sounds seemed to carry meaning, and that he could understand what this other was saying.  However, the words seemed hollow and distant, almost bland in their character.  The cloud could not shake the feeling that the words spoken were merely a poor imitation of a something more tangible, powerful, and more real.  One word however, Syrene, seemed to carry more weight than the others.

This universe, this plane, had a pre-existing language that flowed in its bones.  The God could not explain how it knew this, but it did, and as it came to the realization that it knew this fact it also became aware of the whole of that strange and ancient language.  The language structured and molded the newborn God's malleable mind and imbued it with understanding and meaning.  Simultaneously, the music that surrounded the God became heavier, bombastic, and layered, conveying deeper meaning whilst the patterns in the God’s form shifted into ever more complex sequences.

The ethereal God wished to respond to this Syrene, however it found that it could not form the words of power properly in its current state.  So reaching deep into its form, seizing a portion of its divine power, the God bound some of its energy into a solid form shaped in crude imitation of these others faces.  Round white alabaster, it was a crude imitation with only eyes and a mouth; however it would serve the intended purpose.

This mask floated from deep in the God’s form until it rested at the front of the mass or roiling energy, facing these other beings.  A single word, laden with power and meaning like nothing spoken in the world for thousands of years, was then spoken from that crude mouth, “Beauty”. 

4PP Create Greater Artifact- The Masquerade is an alabaster mask in the same vein of the masks of Comedy and Tragedy which provides 1pp to Creation Actions.

Djas looked upon the strange God that had appeared in front of them. His all-seing eyes saw what it was. Saw the divine essence burn within it...this one hade much power that much was true. It...was also different from the one he was.

This one...was of this world in a way he wasn´t. He was yet a stranger to this world, the energies, the thoughts and actions he had and took was foreign and alien to the world he now was a part of. This one on the other hand...

An odd smille touched the winged god's lips as he looked upon his ill-defined "cousin". Raised his voiced and spoke to it.

" Beauty you say. You speak in a most interesting way, friend. "

He took a step forward and watched It with fascination in his eyes.

" Who are you, friend? You feel...different..."

Ha bent forth, looking closely at the being and smiling once more. A friendly smile it was, a curious one too.
An eye stalk, dripping placental juices, slipped out of the fleshy ball.  The eye, large and milky blue, looked dazedly at the Rock Men and scanned the area around Itja-Rek before focusing on Karak.

As Itja-Rek has already informed you, I am called Davos.  I think my true form lays deep in the world's core, amongst five immense caves.  I call them the Caverns of Davos.  The name lacks creative flair, but given the fantastical complexity of our creations so far, I believe soon I'll have something worthy of a grander name.

As a question, what if Itja-Rek, I, and you, Karak, combined our power and sought to create something more, something better than glowing jellyfish and Thrill Worms.
Itja-Rek nodded in approval as Karak stuffed one of the rock beings into the wall.

"An excellent idea to save it for later for more... detailed... examination." The god said, marking the exact place.  One of his more coherent souls had been something of a master at vivisection before being drawn to the secrets of the Tomb and dying, like the novice thief he was, not ten steps from the entrance.

"Ocean and only ocean?  How dull.  Davos, I would certainly like to create something better to fill it.  Do you have anything in particular in mind?" 
Upon Mishway's lone tree, another sphere had been formed. The sphere was orange and translucent, revealing a vague shadowy figure within. Inside, Caltabactos developed and was being nourished by the essense of Mishway. It would have spent more time within the confines of its egg, but it was quickly interrupted by a seismic pulse resulting from the mountains lifted from within the earth.

The pulse shook the tree, and the orange sphere unspectacularly fell to the hard ground, and burst open. The brown nourishing liquid within splattered across the earth and stained the grass, while a single four-digit hand lay with its palm facing the sky.

Immediately the hand began to twitch, realizing it was not in its protective sphere. It began frantically moving, attempting to get itself off from its 'back.' When it realized it was safe from any immediate harm, it re-located itself to a cleaner area, and rolled across the ground happily, (at least the hand appeared happy; it is difficult to judge without a face) removing the solidifying dark liquid as it rubbed off on the earth.

With the cleaning out of the way, the hand excitedly ran about on its digits, and began trying to think of something to do. The hand then questioned if it could even think without a brain, or if it just thought it was thinking. After a few seconds of debating itself, it gave itself a name: Caltabactos.

Sadly, it lacked a mouth which could pronounce this new name.
Resident generic resident.

"Oh dearie dearie dearie me!" cried the Monarch with a yelp of surprise, flopping down in a rather dramatic fashion beside the newly hatched god, "The tree must be broken! Look! It only made part of a person!"

 She shot an angry glare up at the tree with now hung over them, branches swaying innocently.

"I'll deal with you later!" snapped the Monarch at the tree, "But for now the Queen has got to protect her subjects!"

She spared barely a glance for the other newcomers. There did seem to be a lot of them now. She barely had time to register that it must have been her outstanding brilliance and undeniable beauty that had drawn them to this particular place.

"Don't worry my child!" exclaimed the Monarch dramatically, raising her hand above her head, "I shall save you!"

 She brought down her hand in a grand gesture and sparks exploded impressively outwards from the point of impact. Nothing else happened.

"Oh no! I must be too late!" despaired the Queen, "My dear, can you hear me?"
After hearing (for lack of a better word; Caltabactos lacked ears of any sort) the Monarch's voice, the hand rolled over onto its side, tucked in its fingers, and shot its thumb up in the air. Caltabactos debated whether to call it a fingers-in or a thumbs-up.
Resident generic resident.
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