Lords of Creation: Chaos Within (IC Thread)

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---The Great Beyond---

Ka'Vah called out into the vast regions of the Great Beyond, unsure if anyone was listening.

"Zebus! Zebus, can you hear me?"

Silence. And the silence only added to Ka'Vah's unsettled mood. There were souls here... legions upon legions of souls, wandering. He was used to the flesh bound realm of the Prime, not... not this. The shadow of death clung to the very fabric of the plane and wove itself into the stranded souls.

Did Zebus actually like this place? Ka'Vah shuddered.

"Zebus! The gods call for your aid on the Prime. Great, monsterous beasts roam the land and have dared to challenge us. The gods are scattered and missing and the mortals perish by the thousands. Agni also requests that you free Azgo..."

And suddenly Ka'Vah felt a presence. A very familiar presence, and a terribly old one. Ka'Vah waited anxiously for the presence to adress him. But it did not, and it left as soon as it had arrived.Could it have been... No, of course not. Ka'Vah was in the Great Beyond; it must have been Zebus.

But deep down, he feared it was not.

---Beside a Ruin---

The young Nix breathed heavily, staring into the dark for the source of the voice. The smell of ash and of burnt flesh clung in the air and stirred in the morning winds. Distant animal calls heralded the dawn.

For another good hour or so Timmy slipped freely between waking and slumber. Images of friends ablaze and rivers of smoke pouring freely from the mountainsides haunted his fickle dreams. And eyes... powerful eyes watched him. Every time he awoke he prayed for a few precious moments that such destruction had been naught but a nightmare, and everytime he came to realize that it wasn't he drifted back into the corridors of his mind where truths stalked and hunted him down like game.

Eventually the pain of his dreams fell into the balance with reality, and then realm of one was not the escape from the other. Timmy awoke slowly, and sat up in the thin wilderness.

Before the dawnlight had washed over his home Timmy was on the road south. He didn't want anything to do with this place anymore, and that promise was nothing more than a dream.

And so the Hero of Ages wandered the farthest away he had ever been from home.

And he did not look back.

---The West---

A young dwarf, dressed in full regalia, kneeled on the carved granite. His normaly red beard glowed a lively violet in the firelight of the holy braziers. He felt small, terribly small, beside the pillars of the palace and the curtains of smoke that graced the arched ceiling. A pedestal the shape of a reaching hand stood between the dwarf and the fires. A glaceril dagger, sharpened with years of keen effort, and a gilt chalice rested in the plam of the pedestal. The coals of the braizers were sputtering, and near dead. It was a private ceremony, and none of the normal guards were at their stations.

A pained voice called through the constant crackling of the fires and the echos of cheering crowds in the courtyards.

"Arise, Lord Ogrim. Dawn has risen on the steps of the cliffs and across the sea. And now... as light bears its burden across land and heaven to shed light upon the darkening world, so too does a new king bear up the weight of High Ithol into a new age. The first child of Azgo has withered into age and soon the throne will be found wanting."

There was a pause. Lord Ogrim had no idea what to say, given that no question had been asked. Instead, he waited, giving breif glances at the pedestal.

"It is a great, and terrible burden, to carry the True King's will into the Prime when his betrayers gather and conspire. Are you ready?"

"Yes, my King."

There was a great wheezing fit of coughing and pitied sighs. The haggard voice continued.

"No. You are not."

Ogrim's body froze up with panic. Had he somehow failed the King?! His knuckles turned white with blood.

"But no mortal is, truely. The pain of a god is a vast, depthless trial. It has no begining, and it has no end. But such is the way of the noble, to suffer so that others might have peace. And my suffering... has come to an end. Approach the pedestal."

Lord Ogrim stood hastily and walked forward with what dignity he could muster. His heart was pounding in his chest. His eyes fixed on the dagger's edge. The voice behind the smoke continued, aware that he had obeyed before Ogrim could respond.

"Draw the dagger from its sheath, and draw blood from your hand."

A thick, burly hand reached out for the hefty dagger, lifted it up, and peeled open the skin of his palm. Lord Ogrim bit his tounge in an attempt to stifle his cry. It was the most pain he had experienced in his noble life. A few drops of blood splattered on the inside of the chalice. The blood suddenly swelled and bubbled, as if the goblet itself was bleeding on the inside untill the scarlett fluids brimmed to the top. Lord Ogrim lifted the chalice with both hands over his head.

"Annoit yourself."

Lord Ogrim hesitated again. His hands strokked the velvet pockets and laced linings of his shirt. His regalia would certainly be ruined! He stuttered, face flush with embaressment.

And yet somehow the voice knew.

"Annoit Yourself!" it demanded.

More instinctually, and out of fear rather than reverence, Lord Ogrim poured the blood slowly over his face. He could still feel its warmth on his wet beard.

"In the name of Azgo, whose crown of creation was stolen from him by thieves and liars, whose crown of dominion and purpose was the blood of his brow, I crown you King of High Ithol, King of Varendrel, and King of The Promised Isles! Take my throne and carry the will of The Fused God. Take my throne, and may Azgo bless your divine rule! AAAUUUGGHHHHH!!"

The voice cried out with an intensity that hurricanes would envy. A fell wind swept through the palace halls, extinguishing the braziers and shaking the stone. A mass of Nightshade petals flew out from the seat of the throne and scattered into the open morning. Flowers rained upon the crowds by the armful, and the distant cheering became ecstatic.

Lord Ogrim, freshly coated with cooling blood, staggered confused and afriad towards the throne. Was there no person here? Where had the King gone?? Every fiber of his body told him to go back. And yet... he felt compelled to go forward; to finish what had been started. Gently, Lord Ogrim sat upon the throne of his former king. And then... IT happened.

If anyone had been there to see it, they wpould have called what happened next an nightmare and an abomination of truth itself.  The throne seemed to envelop him, fuse with his skin. The stained garments that once sparkled with valor and glory ripped and tore and fell away unto the floor. His skin sagged into folds in places and drew tight enough to be translucent in others. Organs shifted and twisted together into a gnarled incomprehensible system of agonized flesh, like the roots of a tree inside of a man. Lor Ogrim tried to call out, but could only hoarsely cough through puss clogged lungs that now rooted inside of his once-feet. His eyes bgan to sink further and further into his skull before being swallowed by the throat, leaving only empty pits. And above all else, he could feel a sickness in him. A horrid, inheritant  wrongness with his existence that pulsed like blood through myriad hearts.

The braziers lit up in an inferno of divine fire and scented smoke, higher and hotter than they had been in decades.

Lord Ogrim was no more. King Ogrim had been born.

Long live the King.

OOC
Create Artifact (2AP): The Throne of High Ithol is the seat of kings and prophets in Azgo's name. The transformation of Ogrim, and the transformation of every king is a pact signed long ago between the refugee cultists and Azgo. Azgo gives a piece of his spirit to the King of High Ithol. This techincally makes the King/Queen a demigod if you prefer. Whoever is the king/Queen of High Ithol takes on a fractions of a god's wisdom, knowledge, power, and longevity. The ruler of High Ithol is granted a new lifetime of about 300-500 years, and this is how the West measures time in ages. However, the spirit is also infected with Azgo's taint, and in turn passes incredible pain and sickness into the individual. The King/Queen has no need of food, water, sleep, excercise and cannot fall ill... or at least, any more ill than they already are.
Ap Remaining:2


Clarification
The Western Continent is called The Sunthos Isles, or The Promised Isles by  most residents. The island that High Ithol resides upon is called Verandrel. No names have been given to the other isles yet, though the population knows they exist.


---On the Forest Border---

Under the order for a new fleet of ships by King Ogrim, woodsmen and commoners passed through the sparse scrub of the foothills into new territory. Many of the "explorers" as they deemed themselves were amazed at the newfound abundence of wood. Only isolated groves of thin, ragged trees existed in the foothills, but this place... it was beautiful in its serenity.

New hamlets and villages cropped up on its border, and hundreds of axemen settled here earning honest, if rough, livelihoods. One day, a few weeks in, a group of woodsmen brothers treaded deep into the forest in search of... welll, they didn't know. Trees of course, but that was secondary. They just wanted to walk, and enjoy this place so distinct from the rabble of citylife.

"Do you feel that Nathaniel? The wind 'tween the trees? Feels down right liberating, that does."

"Perhaps you should focus more on where in the Abyss we're going. That is of course, unless you want to be stranded here to 'feel' the trees or something." One of the stick-like brother retorted. But his brother was right. It was immensly pleasurable in the current heat.

"It smells even better than it feels! Almost makes me forget that a barrell of rotten fish is marchin' in front of me. Hahahaha!" He gave his brother a playful shove. " Must say, I miss the days you spent on the piers, downwind from us that is."

Eventually they stopped at a new grove and reluctantly began to cut timber. For the most part, they were rather careless and relaxed, expecting nothing more than cool wind and soft grass... Which is why they screamed in terror upon seeing a feathered halfling-craterspawn-thing nesting above them.

"What in blessed name of Azgo is THAT?!"











He said to me: "It is done. I am the Alpha and the Omega, the Beginning and the End. To him who is thirsty I will give to drink without cost from the spring of the water of life. -Revelation 21:6

Any man's death diminishes me, because I am involved in mankind, and therefore never send to know for whom the bells tolls; it tolls for thee.-John Donne, Meditation XVII

My photo was found here.

---The Abyss---

Azgo sighed a long, repressed sigh. It seemed that his chosen prophet refused him. The Nix required time: time to process and to mourn. Azgo hoped he would agree one day...

He began to walk the halls he had walked for an uncounted age. Most mortals would have driven insain by now, seeing the same walls and towers in the same places over eons of the same patterns of walking. But Azgo did not break so easily. He had to survive... he had to.

And these halls were empty too. That... that was exhausting to think of. There were Craterspawn, yes. Tens of thousands of Craterspawn had flown triumphantly from the depths of the creation vats to infest the sky with the constant battering of wings. But Craterspawn were mere animals. They were a means to an end. But anything intelligent that was more than a mortal soul Zebus had judged to be vile? Nothing. No gods flocked to Azgo's banner. No exarchs swore allegiance to him, seeing the error of their former ways. He had no allies. And though he would never admit it, he had no friends ...and that ...
pained him as great as the troubles of his ailments.

Feeling that unspeakable pang within, Azgo suddenly cursed up and down the day the Firstborn betrayed him. They had taken more than they could have imagined. They had stolen the crown he was meant to wear. They had stolen all the comforts of his flesh untill every moment was a nightmare that he could not simply awaken from. And above that, they had stolen his family away forever.

For Azgo's crown could be forged once more. His flesh could be healed and seperated into Azazel and Go'El. Neither would be easy nor quick, but it was possible. But from that singular moment of greed and betrayal, Azgo's siblings became somthing more abominable than his monsterous form. It was something from which they could not return even if they wanted to. The First demanded it, and the First was always right. Always. And when Azgo restarted Creation from the very foundation of divinity, and created new gods to serve as their replacements... it would not be the same. They would never be the same. There was only one Pruinus. One Leaf. One Agni. One Zebus. No more.

Azgo's tirade of curses trailed off into whispers and silence. He was a king afterall, and it was better to light a candle than curse the darkness, deserving though it may be. He was always busy, and there was always something to do.

The Crowned in Blood spent the next few days building more fortifications and creation vats, tempering the Grand Scepter and the Apostate's Bane, and meditating. Hatred pumped strongly in his blood and through the bones. It gave him strength. It gave him patience.

And then he felt it while meditating. A disturbance in the plane, on its very edge. Something remarkably different. It was as if the Abyss, which was indeed a fundamental part of Azgo, cried out. But was it in pain, or... joy? One second Azgo was within Guvarah An, and the next, he felt himself standing on the edge of the void. At the wards that harrassed and hounded him... or where they had used to.

For here, there were no wards.



OOC
Nourish Populace (2AP): The craterspawn ranks swell once more into the glory-legions of old. The dogs of war strain against their leashes, eager for the flesh of mortals.
AP Remaining:0



He said to me: "It is done. I am the Alpha and the Omega, the Beginning and the End. To him who is thirsty I will give to drink without cost from the spring of the water of life. -Revelation 21:6

Any man's death diminishes me, because I am involved in mankind, and therefore never send to know for whom the bells tolls; it tolls for thee.-John Donne, Meditation XVII

My photo was found here.

OOC
So, I've looked through the IC several times, and I'm just not seeing anywhere that Sa needs an interaction from Artun, or any of my characters. Sorry, Raven, you'll have to point it out to me.



~~~The Badlands~~~

The corpse god reached out to his side. The ground trembled for a moment, then a black diamond burst forth in a spraw of dirt and flew into the god's hand. With a feral cry, Artun again flew at Agni in a rage. Creation shuddered as he dragged diamond point against diamond.

The first word that Artun etched into Agni's body was his response to the fire god's claims. Lies.

"I warned you!"

The corpse shambled over Agni's body, leaving smears of his liquefying self behind, to a new face and etched a second word into its diamond-body. This was what Artun had done for Agni. Sacrifice.

"I gave up everything! I saved you!"

The third word and final word was etched onto Agni's main face. Betrayer.

"You made me like this!"

OOC
I'll leave it up to you, Topheh, to say if those etches were in Agni's body, or if the black diamond was just acting like chalk, leaving bits of itself behind to form the words instead


~~~The Great Beyond~~~

There was nothing here, no sign that the creator of this place cared for it in the least. It was forgotten, a cast off, a half-finished thought.

The Zizu flew from on infinite end to the other, searching, but it found nothing of worth. Until, that is, a being appeared. A thing of smoke and ire. Ka'Vah.

The great bird clucked to itself and tore again at the fabric of this reality. The ineffable boundaries between this place and the Shadows weakened and tore, and the nameless things, created when Umbra first awoke, slide forth. For Zizu's part, it descended onto the exarch.

AP

6AP join the meta-plane with PinkPonyPrincess' Shadow realm.
~The Badlands~

Thought
Well, Agni doesn't really have a *main* face anymore.  He's more a superposition of a bunch of different Agnis 


Agni grunted as the blade of black diamond bit into his being, but held still as Artun vented his anger.  Finally, as Artun's body 

You warned me?  Really.   Let us stroke the melted wax that is your memory and see if we can push it back into shape.   Do you recall?

 
Magma poured out of several of Agni's mouths and broke into tens of thousands of tiny rocks, which organized themselves in the air.  It showed Agni, as he used to be, and Artun, as he used to be, traveling through the mountains.

You have just told me:  "There was a creature at the suns. As soon as I approached, it darted south and I followed. Come, it's hiding in a cave. I can't see in there, but your glowy fireness should lighten things up."    And I did follow.

 
The scene changed, stones whirring through the air to resolve into Agni entering a deep cave while Artun waited outside.  A drop of something started to fall from the ceiling.  The stones froze.

Here.  Here is where you warned me, Artun.  When it was already too late.

The scene unfroze, and Agni was covered in black ooze and the stones lost any semblance of a picture, moments later dropping to the earth in a hail of pebbles.

It seems obvious to me that you knew what was going to happen when I stepped into that cave from the beginning, Artun.  You had plenty of chance to warn me on our journey from the Crown.  


Did you save me?  I do not know.  You claim you did, but no one came to your defense after the battle was done.  Perhaps you recruited the Tealord, or the God-who-died, but they are dead, and cannot speak.  


I did make you what you are.  I was angry, vengeful, afraid.  I nearly died, Artun.  You, through your inaction at the very least nearly killed me.


But now, I feel generous and forgiving.  That cave became the Behemoth, and I know I was not alone inside it.  You knew all about the cave, clearly.  Tell me what you know, and I will give you what you want, for I know what it is.


~The Great Beyond~

The voice of Scorch piped up inside Ka'Vah.

"This is our chance to be a hero, parasite.  Perhaps in atonement for what you did to that poor Orc."


~Verandrel~

An Insuannon, mistaking the screams of terror for a greeting, hopped off of its perch and descended to the floor of the forest.

¤Greetings!  It is so exciting to have clearly sentient creatures visiting us, even if you cannot fly.  My name is Eane and we are the Insuannon peoples of the forest.  What manner of thing are you?¤

But to the Itholians, all they heard was the sound of loud, insistant birdsong.

 

---The Great Beyond---

The beast swooped down upon Ka'Vah with little warning, and sent the petty god scrambling for a mobile defense as he recovered his senses. Walls of smoke, gusts of fierce wind, and deft movement kept The Eclipse Aflame a few paces ahead of the godbird.

"Zebus! Zebus!! Abyss take you Zebus; Answer me!"

Despite his defensive focus, Ka'Vah was quickly understanding what he was facing and what it was capable of. Every sidestep and every glancing blow brought Ka'Vah a few steps closer to a level battlefield. To defeat such a creature, alone no less. Think of the Glory!

But the fight was tense, and heavily straining upon Ka'Vah. And at one pivotal moment when pain and confusion exceeded his will, Ka'Vah...

...lost control.

OOC
Modify Exarch Temporarily (0AP): The body of Ka'Vah is, for a time i will leave to be designated by Toph, under the control of Scorch.


---Verandrel, near the Mountain---

One of the brothers, burlier than the others, grabbed at his chest and felt the pounding underneath. The birdlike creature had glided in front of them and after a few tense seconds... sung. But such a dry, tasteless word was no comparison to the honey-sweet yet quicksilver swift tones and pitch that frolicked forth from its throat. For a few seconds, he thought they were going to be eaten, or attacked, or... or anything beside singing. And how the light gleamed off its feathers like a pearl... The brother stared hopelessly stupid at the creature like a fish in a net.

But no sooner had the creature sung, then one of the brothers grabbed ahold of his broad axe and stumbled wildly forward. He was no soldier, and this axe was not meant for his hands, but the blow was wildly lucky and tore a serious wound in the brest of the creature. Blood spewed unevenly like a sputtering fountain; the vivid colors of the bird's feathers were drowned in unwholesome red.

And the oddly tense peace between the creatures descended faster than a drunk dwarf on the saddle of a craterspawn as they might have said. The other creature's panic and energy became a blur in front of his eyes, and the Burly brother heard ringing in his ears.

"Run, Garth, run for your life! There's more in the trees!"

Garth hesitated, seeing the world in a slower pace than he ever had before. His brothers were scrambling into a retreat, pelting the creatures with stones as they ran between the tress. Garth clumsily got to his knees and staggered backward untill his eyes fixed on the wounded bird. It seemed just as frightened as he had been.

Garth moved more instinctualy than out of choice. He lunged forward and snatched up the bird-creature in his arms, turned, and bolted down the hill back where he came. The creature struggled, and Garth held it tighter and tighter in an effort to stop the bleeding. The bird was... precious to him. He did not want it to die. Hopefully they would make it back to the homestead soon enough.

Assuming, of course, that he survived.

---The Abyss---

Azgo tentatively stepped forward, cautiously awaiting some fell trap. For the first time since the invasion itself, his steel-plated foot crossed the ethreal line of the Abyss. No agonizing crawl, no prayer swimming, no wisp of conciousness and power. He merely... stepped over.

How... remarkably unexpected. Azgo stood on the very hairsbredth of the Abyssal border, dumfounded. Was this a trap? But why trap Azgo when he was imprisoned already, and when Zebus still couldn't kill him? And would the trap be worth the risk of Azgo escaping into the Prime? No, it couldn't have been a trap, or at least not an intelligent trap.

Then... an accident? No, wards sealed by gods don't last centuries only to need a maintenence check; Zebus did not make faulty defenses for the world he had sacrificed his brothers to gain.

A shadow of a grin cracked open on his faces that, if a Firstborn had been there to see it, would have shaken their confidences to the core. A godhunter was on the loose, and They were the prey. But first, he needed answers.

It was clear then, that something had broken the wards on purpose. Perhaps whoever it was did not know the ramifications of their actions, but someone was willing to defy and challenge Zebus and therefore, the will of the Firstborn. Sa perhaps? No, too neutral. Azgo would have to find out while he was hunting.

Azgo gathered the shrouds of death before him into a cloak, and slipped into the Great Beyond. For days he wandered, feeling pity for the stranded souls wandering aimlessly here. Azgo promised to himself that one day, they would be free of their neglect. The plane was hard to navigate, given that death and shadow skirted about everywhere and the landmarks of souls split and churned and reformed all over. The Fused God instead waited for an emergence of power, a direction of a noteworthy presence.

Suddenly he felt it, a flash of power not far from him. Something at last had entered the plane. He glided through the dark ether untill the presence was close, and then gathered up the shadows untill neither he nor the visitor could see through the other. Azgo shook with anticipation. Zebus had returned home, and an old... friend was waiting for him. And then Zebus spoke... and Zebus did not sound like Zebus. There was death in his voice, but not Death. There was a distinction. But it was familiar... from ages ago.

"...great monsterous beasts... challenge..."
"...the gods... scattered... missing... perish"
"Agni requests that... free Azgo..."

Azgo froze, thinking. Worried.

The gods... scattered? Missing? Fighting these... these monsterous beasts? And had Agni purposely freed Azgo, or wanted it so, to... to fight?! What a foolish move, if a neccessary one. This changed everything. If Agni had freed Azgo, then creation was at risk. Something terrible was happening- something that could reshape the balance of power out of Azgo's favor. The hunt for gods was slim in priority, and the hunt for answers grew wide with desperate interest.

Quickly as he had come, Azgo left in the wake of the presence: unto the Prime.

Any other day, this would have been a celebration. The ground would have trembled, the sky grown dark, and the lamentations of the Firstborn would have been carried on the wind across the continents. But this was no other day.

His wisp form would have taken months to scour a continent. And even at his full command it would take weeks. Hopefully, that would not be too long. Hopefully...



He said to me: "It is done. I am the Alpha and the Omega, the Beginning and the End. To him who is thirsty I will give to drink without cost from the spring of the water of life. -Revelation 21:6

Any man's death diminishes me, because I am involved in mankind, and therefore never send to know for whom the bells tolls; it tolls for thee.-John Donne, Meditation XVII

My photo was found here.

Reset.
OOC

Ah, sorry Topheh, I thought Agni still favored one face/facet over the others. Namely, the face/facet from this reality, as opposed to all the other realities that collapsed in on him.


~~~The Badlands~~~

The tiny rocks formed the scene, yet when Agni claimed he had been warned too late, Artun's ire gave his response. One of the words he had scratched into Agni's face burned with hatred. Lies.

Silent, the corpse god pointed a finger at the ground, where the shadows of the stone fell. At first there was no clear meaning, but then the gods gathered noticed that the shadows cast did not match the stones. The shadows showed a different story: the two gods arrived at the cave, but Artun held back, visibly frightened. Self-absorbed Agni didn't notice, or if he noticed, he didn't care enough to ask why. Here his own actions cursed him, and he went into the cave alone. Then, still trembling, Artun called out to Agni to warn him, and yet the fire god was slow to listen, slow to respond, and by his own failure, the cave captured him.

Through decayed vocal cords dripping with pus and plasma, Artun's voices burbled up. "There's one thing I want, Betrayer: revenge."

~~~The Badlands... again~~~

Seg watched carefully. This was a side to Agni he had never imagined might exist. The fire god didn't feel remorse, at least not that he displayed, but there was a speck of a sliver of a mote of kindness in him, it seemed, which was mountains and valleys more kindness than was in the master.

"I-" he said, then stopped at the sound of his own voice. Artun and Agni had been speaking so long that Seg's voice sounded out of place. But he continued, "I may be able to offer insight, and my price is simple yet hard. I ask for protection."

~~~The Great Beyond~~~

As there was a touch of fire in the Behemoth, a touch of Ice in the Leviathan, so in the Zizu was there a touch of death. There was no mistaking the bird for Zebus, but the plane felt an affinity for it, even as the godbird's talons rent its reality.

The Eclipse Aflame fought back, but dead memories rose up around it. Scorch's life, before he had been cursed. Ka'vah's memories, too, the memories of the godcrater, of Azgo's pain and failure and defeat.

Smoke fought shadow, unseen fought unseeable, and across the astral leagues, in the Shadowy realm of earlier times, Umbra shivered. The spirit of evil that inhabited it responded to the motion. It awoke and reached out again to the rest of its kind.
~The Badlands~

Agni once again spoke in two languages at once, A gutteral rumble that sounded like stones scraping over one another and the high, tonal language of before.


To Artun, he said.

So your argument is that I should have not trusted you, and therefore it is my fault?  You are correct.  I should have seen the problem right away, your words made no sense at the time, for to me you were the most beautiful ball of pure Fire that I had ever seen.  You would have lit up the cave better than I.  But I did not think, did not question, because your very form distracted me, as it was meant to do.  You more or less admit that you knew the danger from the moment you first told me of it.  And so my question remains:  Why did you not tell me sooner?

But very well.  Answer that, and then tell me what this 'revenge' you desire would entail.

To Seg, he replied.

Ah.  Now we are getting somewhere.  Protection?  Done.  I promise, for myself, my son and my Kin   Agni concentrated on Thorn for a moment, wondering if he would agree, to keep you safe from whatever will be angered at your telling us what is going on.

 
~The Beyond~

 
Scorch/Ka'Vah briefly as the Agni'Vohda regained control of his body for the first time in ages.  The darkness closed in for the kill as the smoke-being twitched and struggled to control its new/old body.  

And then the process was complete.  The smoke drew back towards the center of what is Ka'Vah/Scorch, all the disparate portions of its body coming back to the center.  And when enough of Scorch was present, the smoke ignited.   A roaring inferno that did not consume its fuel, the smoke, blazed in the darkness and slowly resolved into the form of a tall, diffuse Agni'Vohda.

Scorch lashed out and the Darkness shied away from the Light.  With renewed vigor, the flaming cloud struck at the Zizu, strands of fire darting out from the main 'body' of Scorch to hit feathers and skin.  

And Scorch/Ka'Vah laughed.   


~Verandrel~

Eane kicked and scratched the thing that had hurt it, but to no avail.  Garth only squeezed tighter and tighter, trying to hold on...

Until with a series of snaps, the hollow bones of the Insuannon's back and chest broke and collapsed inwards, puncturing heart and lung.  After a long pained cry, Eane's head rolled backwards, and he died.
~The Gathering~

Agni's promise lingered in the air. The wind flared briefly, and a smattering of flower petals danced amidst the assembled gods, and then drifted back to the ground.

Sa had arrived. The god of Prophecy did not speak, did not reveal its presence, but it had arrived.

It knew them, these assembled.

The promiser that had brought it into this world.

The mirror of beauty it had goaded into crafting humans.

The healer-who-did-not with whom it had argued.

The deceitful source of the tear that was The Quickening.


There was also one it did not know.

The diamond one with a thousand voices. That, was interesting.

And so Sa waited.
Another shadow appeared over The Eclipse Aflame, and this time the Zizu. Something very dark, and very very angry. The shadows coalesed over the bird, a sword severing the head and casting it from The Great Beyond straight into the Abyss. A shadowy tendril blasted Ka'vah to the ground and bound him there. A presence as old as time itself fell upon him.

You bellow upon my realm. You slaughter, maim and destroy just to get my attention. All you really do is increase my workload you bumbling arrogant fool! You who are about as incompentent as your own masters! Take your pick as to which one you believe you swear fealty to. I do not really care. You and that thing where here not only at my whim, but because I'd cared not to deal with you. Now it seems that I have left you to your own devices too long!

As Zebus commands, the rents and tears to the plane of darkness repair themselves.

I have much work to do with these supposed creatures flailing about. I just kicked one out of here, but by no means is it dead sadly... Now leave back to your masters. Azgo will have to find his own way out, and if my messengers are correct he is already working on it. I have my own work to do. I caused enough destruction for one era, they can destroy themselves with out my help.


Zebus finally steps out of the shadows, and starts to walk away from Scorch/Ka'vah

AP

6 AP removed the connections from The Great Beyond and The plane of shadow/darkness/w/e

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IMAGE(http://www.wizards.com/magic/images/whatcolor_isred.jpg)Take the Magic: The Gathering 'What Color Are You?' Quiz.

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I am Red/Black
I am Red/Black
Take The Magic Dual Colour Test - Beta today!
Created with Rum and Monkey's Personality Test Generator.

 

I am both selfish and chaotic. I value self-gratification and control; I want to have things my way, preferably now. At best, I'm entertaining and surprising; at worst, I'm hedonistic and violent.

~The Beyond~


"W-w-w-w-wait!"  Scorch cried out after the departing God.   "That wasn't me, but the corruption within me.  I did not condone that, but the message of Agni remains.  He needs your help, DeathLord.   Not to destroy, but prevent destruction."
---The Great Beyond---

Ka'Vah shook with foaming rage. Fool? Arrogant? Bumbling? BUMBLING?! Ka'Vah, if ANYTHING, did not bumble about! Was this what humble, tireless service lead to, humiliation and  proofless accusations?! Even Azgo in all of his obsessions and Agni with all of his demands were more tolerable than this pretentious, narcissistic, and power-blinded hermit of a god!

Ka'Vah unleashed a spewing, frothing river of long-winded and visceral insults untill they filled the brim of Scorch's private thoughts. It was then that he realized that it was Scorch, not himself, on the outside. Without losing a shred of velocity, the river poured instead unto Scorch.

"Corruption?! Corruption?! It is you who has usurped my body and my voice! Return what you have stolen from me at once!! You are NOTHING compared to me! Nothing but kindling too be burned and flames to sputter and die out before the deital might and majesty that is Ka'Vah, The Eclipse Aflame! I demand your surrender, you meaningless, worthless mortal parasite of my potential! YEILD!!"

Ka'Vah had never felt a stronger urge to kill something. Or several thousand... 

---At a Divine Meeting--- 

A sudden maelstrom enveloped the meeting's outskirts with fierce stormwinds that echoed with the screams of angels.  Little light pierced through the sulferous curtain, casting a sickly glow upon the attendents within. 
The ground turned black with blight. The grass withered into dust.

And for the first time since before the uncounted ages of the Invasion, The Crowned in Blood stepped once more on the Prime. His god-forged plate glimmered in the warped starlight; his maul rested lightly in his hands. He stood for a moment, remembering the taste of dirt beneath his heels. The stench of dying flesh poured out from his presence.

The storm fell away, ripping itself apart. An odd... coldness hung in the foul air.

Azgo's blind head veered toward the Gem-god, for it did not vision to see that this was Agni. Azgo could feel the essence of the god within him. No Firstborn could hide from Fused eyes.

There were so many things he wanted to say. To ask of them... Answers. Why they had betrayed him, why they ran from their mistakes, why their brothers were not worthy in their eyes. But this was Azgo, not Azazel/Go'El that stood before them. He was filled with purpose, and so were his words.

Bile and blood seeped through his rotten gums and down his sallow chin.

"Your plan. What is it?"


 

He said to me: "It is done. I am the Alpha and the Omega, the Beginning and the End. To him who is thirsty I will give to drink without cost from the spring of the water of life. -Revelation 21:6

Any man's death diminishes me, because I am involved in mankind, and therefore never send to know for whom the bells tolls; it tolls for thee.-John Donne, Meditation XVII

My photo was found here.

~Badlands~

As Agni waited for answers, suddenly Azgo was there, weapon in hand.


Corrupted One.  Azgo.  I see your old servant finally found you.  Good.      Agni said in a langague of screams, grunts and sudden changes in pitch.     My plan is simple.  There exist several massive beasts that scour the land, seeking to destroy all of creation.  My initial plan was to stop them, but it appears that there may be a dark power that seeks all of our deaths.  These two know something of it, but it has been... difficult... to draw details from them.


Do you still wish to kill me and my siblings?  I fear I may be the only one left.  Ka'Vah was supposed to find Zebus, and then you, but my brother has not appeared, and the ColdMother and TeaLord... are both missing as well.   Will you accept a truce until this matter is finished?  I feel certain that this dark power would love to see us kill one another and weaken the forces which would stand against it. 
Stopping, Zebus started to chuckle. You wish me to go into the world to cause more destruction to stop destruction, to free the one god that wishes me dead not that that is possible, and you say you have corruption inside of you! You make a compelling argument there.

Freeing Scorch/Ka'vah from the shadowy tendrils Zebus shakes his head in amusement.

Tell your master or masters I care not which, that the role of jester does not suit him. I still have a mess here to clean up from the last time before I can make a new one.

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IMAGE(http://www.wizards.com/magic/images/whatcolor_isred.jpg)Take the Magic: The Gathering 'What Color Are You?' Quiz.

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I am Red/Black
I am Red/Black
Take The Magic Dual Colour Test - Beta today!
Created with Rum and Monkey's Personality Test Generator.

 

I am both selfish and chaotic. I value self-gratification and control; I want to have things my way, preferably now. At best, I'm entertaining and surprising; at worst, I'm hedonistic and violent.

---Badlands---

Azgo's seeing head glanced at the others gathered here with yellow, milky eyes. The stare was penetrating, and ancient in its pained observation. Eventually the eyes fell upon the charred corpse god Artun. A kindred hatred pulsed like an aura off of the once-god.

A small amount of pity shone beneath the egregious coatings of the eyes. 

"There is nothing from the center to the very edge of known creation that will justify your betrayal of the First, the mortals, and the condemnation of myself into this abomination of godflesh. You will always be deserving of true death, and I will always pursue you, no matter your form nor power. The First demands it, and I demand it."

The Fused God hefted his maul across his plated shoulder, letting its immense weight crush the smaller bones in his arms. He needed to be ready.

"But unlike Firstborn, I know when to put aside my desires, no matter how righteouss, for the good of creation. Untill victory is assured, I will take no action that jeopardizes the safety of the world."

He said to me: "It is done. I am the Alpha and the Omega, the Beginning and the End. To him who is thirsty I will give to drink without cost from the spring of the water of life. -Revelation 21:6

Any man's death diminishes me, because I am involved in mankind, and therefore never send to know for whom the bells tolls; it tolls for thee.-John Donne, Meditation XVII

My photo was found here.

~Badlands~

Agni's response was flat and emotionless.

Then we understand one another.  So be it. 
---Badlands---

 
Azgo's mouth filled with bile, which slithered back down his throat. The veins in his face throbbed with vigor at Agni's response, flushing the skin with a black undertone.

"No. We don't."

A tense moment passed as Azgo's seeing eyes held Agni's gaze. Centuries of imprisonment and agony danced wildly behind the irises. The knuckles under godplate turned white with pressure.

"How many beasts, and where are they?" 

He said to me: "It is done. I am the Alpha and the Omega, the Beginning and the End. To him who is thirsty I will give to drink without cost from the spring of the water of life. -Revelation 21:6

Any man's death diminishes me, because I am involved in mankind, and therefore never send to know for whom the bells tolls; it tolls for thee.-John Donne, Meditation XVII

My photo was found here.

Agni let out an exasperated sigh.

On the topic of our working together until the danger to all creation is passed, we have come to an understanding.  Is that better?

Two or perhaps Three.  Some sort of living ocean that went to the south, and the Behemoth which rampages to the east.  There may be a third, a massive bird-creature, but I have not seen that one with my own eyes. 
"And this..."

Azgo motioned with his hand at the other gods assembled with a touch of disgust. They would have to do...

"Is all you could muster? I should have expected as much apathy and laziness from Leaf's court. Willing to feast on the fruits of betrayal but not to fight or die when it is necessary."

"The beasts must be dealt with first, before the world falls apart. I will handle this 'Behemoth'. Have you engaged it before?"

 

He said to me: "It is done. I am the Alpha and the Omega, the Beginning and the End. To him who is thirsty I will give to drink without cost from the spring of the water of life. -Revelation 21:6

Any man's death diminishes me, because I am involved in mankind, and therefore never send to know for whom the bells tolls; it tolls for thee.-John Donne, Meditation XVII

My photo was found here.

Agni nodded.

Yes.  I look the way you see me as a result.   
~Divine Gathering~

This, then, was the moment.

The 10,000 petals of Sa jumped from the ground and blustered about the clearing.

"Allow usssssss to bring tidingsssssss of the beast of mountainsssssss." 

The assembled gods found their eyes drawn to a single whirling petal of deepest blue. Before their eyes, it folded upon itself, then again and again, until the cariacture of an Azure Dragon drifted on the winds before them.

"When the beast fell from the skiesssssss, it swallowed the seventh of the sunsssssss. These "Dragonsssssss" had been birthed by the artifact, and were taken whole into itsssssss bowelsssssss. They fought a war of long attritionsssssss, and left it slain, scattered it into a thousand living piecesssssss."

The orihana dragon was lost amongst the rest of the gently drifting petals.

"With itsssssss sidesssssss torn asunder, our artifact wasssssss returned to usssssss."

On cue, dawn broke over the world for the first time in weeks. The lonely white light of The Beacon, though it did not match the furious green light of the God Mountain, the light, shorn free of the Sanctum in the wake of the Behemoth's awakening, was a welcome sight.
He shook of the torpor that threatened to consume him once more, then retreated further into the shadows of his safe little overhang. A wonder that he hadn't been noticed by all the arriving divinity. Sending a short call to one of his more solid deceptions, hegathered his strength and let strands of deception slipping from beneath overhang to float skyward. He tightened his connection to the deception he was projecting, and focused on the meeting.

-----

Tzu'misel raised his hand slightly. "You said one of the beasts was some sort of living ocean? Perhaps I might be of assistance."

Mechanics
3 PP - Create Exarch -  Verndari
3PP - Create Exarch - Lysing
 

http://community.wizards.com/play-by-post_haven The Play-by-Post recruitment hub for the forums. Stop by, join us, and sign up for some games while you are there

Cookie Collection
71235715 wrote:
A wave of light rolled softly over the hills and caressed Azgo's face. His skin, which untill now had been shrouded in wavering shadows, was stripped bare of all its indistinct coverings. The pale flesh shone brilliantly with the dark glow of sickness, the churning of scar tissue just beneath the skin, and the strain of constant misery. Pockets of cysts and boils cralwed across the tendons like a hoard of scurrying beetles.

Azgo's newly lit eyes, both blind and seeing, turned to Sa for the first time. Unconciously, Azgo's posture changed to one of discreet respect. 

"Living pieces you say? And thousands of them? How are we to slay a creature that simply splits apart?"

He lowered his heads, thinking.

"Perhaps then, our efforts should be more diversionary, untill this 'dark power' is dealt with, assuming that it has some influence over these events." 

---The Moot---

Cantorix waded through the flesh marsh of the Leviathen, still enthralled in the rush and heart of battle. Dozens, no scores, of dragonspawn had been split open like fruit, broken upon the bones of his bruised arms, and drown in the acidic fluids flowing into their lungs.

But there were always more, and Cantorix was always on the move. But he was shambling now. Every step was accompanied with the cracks of smaller bones and the slushing of internal blood. His eyes were wild, both from Wrath and the pain that wracked him.

The dragon frontlines had been pushed back considerably, and many would be horrified to admit that it was nearly impossible to tell the corpses of dragons from the dragonspawn, broken and shredded as they were. The moot was awash in blood, and it flooded down the mountainsides with impunity.
 
How long could they continue? 

He said to me: "It is done. I am the Alpha and the Omega, the Beginning and the End. To him who is thirsty I will give to drink without cost from the spring of the water of life. -Revelation 21:6

Any man's death diminishes me, because I am involved in mankind, and therefore never send to know for whom the bells tolls; it tolls for thee.-John Donne, Meditation XVII

My photo was found here.

OOC
Sorry... crazy weekend.


~Badlands~  

A multitude of grins washed over the faces of Agni.

A thousand weakened pieces are easier to fight than one massive foe, Corruptor.  Pieces may be separated, imprisoned, removed from the whole.   Agni's eyes lit up with excitment.

Imagine, foes encased in molten iron, trapped forever in metal's cold embrace.  Imagine, foes buried by the roots of the mountains, or thrown into the places beyond the edge of the world.  These actions were impossible before, but certainly possible now.  This is a step towards progress.

Agni turned to address Sa.

FlowerLord, it has been a long time since we have spoken.  It it good to know that you still walk these lands, even though so many of our kin have fallen asleep.  Thank you for this welcome news.  

As for the Leviathan, it is somewhere to the south, if you wish to chase after it.  However, I agree with Azgo on this.  These creatures are, as far as we can tell, mere beasts, tools to some nefarious result.  FlowerLord, you say that the Behemoth took the Beacon.  I saw it going after the Sun buried in the Eternal Volcano.  And now we stumble upon Seg trying to get this one.  Seg, we have promised you protection.  Tell us who is behind this, and why they desire the suns.

~The Beyond~

Scorch laughed uncomfortably at the raging Ka'Vah within him.  

"Not much fun, is it?"  He asked silently.  "But this is how I felt for years, Ka'Vah, watching you muck about with my body and destroy things.  Now I am in control, and I feel my soul strengthening once more.  We were days from death, you know.  Your smoldering nature was about to finish consuming its source of fuel, and we would have both died.  Now, I am dominant, and my soul is replenishing.  Face it, Parasite.  You're going to have to be content in there for a while longer."

Scorch then called out after the departing Zebus.  "So, the great God of Death is afraid.  This is what I will tell my master.  Farewell."   

And with that, Scorch was gone.

~The Eternal Volcano~

Scorch reappeared above the Eternal Volcano.

"Home."  He whispered to himself, floating down and skimming the surface of the Caldera for a moment before being drawn to a smooth golden orb that bobbed in the lake of fire.  

"Curious..."  He said, landing on top of the glowing object and wondering what it might be.

Above in the heavens, a red orb turned green.

~A Curious Meeting~

Ara
 If you ever return,  I'm sure you can run with this, but I need Krr'Ree'E for something, and... she is acting in a manner consistent with her character...  Your character is an Exarch, so he should be able to take this...

Krr'Ree'E stared for a long moment at the strange, silent lion-man-thing, waiting for a response.  Seconds stretched to uncomfortable minutes, stretched to an hour of the strange thing just... staring at her.

Finally, the Chitrach shook her head.

"I'm sorry, but this is far too strange for me, and I no longer trust you.  Hive protocol dictates that we protect the Hive from all those we do not trust, therefore..."

The Chitrach's arms raised up and sharp forearms stabbed into the chest of the LionMan.  Bright red blood welled out from the wounds as the still catatonic man slumped to his knees, then collapsed to the ground.  Krr'Ree'E turned and scurried off as quickly as she could.   

 
~The Moot~

"Enough."   A voice boomed through the minds of all dragons and dragonspawn, causing all to look up.  A dragon-shaped cloud of ash floated overhead.  

"This Moot began as an attempt to foster peace and unity, not to become a bloodbath."  The dragon-cloud said, speaking to all.   "No more.  I, Paren, forbid it by the power of my master, Agni."

The Dragon-cloud opened its mouth and breathed out a wave of shimmering power that washed over the Leviathan, pushing it downwards, phasing it through the earth and causing it to dissapear beneath the surface, leaving two shining Sun-orbs resting on the rocks.  With their reinforcements gone, the Dragonspawn offensives faltered and failed beneath the continued attacks of the true Dragons, until the last dragonspawn fell, and an unnatural silence came over the battlefield.

Paren descended and perched on the Mootstone itself.

"The beast is not dead, nor are its children.  I lack that power.  It is trapped, beyond this world, but not disconnected from it.  In order to maintain it in its prison, it is necessary for a... release valve... to be built into its cell.  Once enough Dragonspawn are created, they will escape, pushed out by the plane itself.  Many will be lost in the space between the worlds, but some will emerge here.  You and your children must destroy them, from now until the end of all things."

Paren descended and perched on one of the Suns, his wing brushing the other one.  As he did so, the red orb above turned green.

"Now, we have something to discuss.  But I will wait until the rest of our kin arrive."

~The Frozen Lake~

The red orb turned green, and below, the ice began to slowly melt.

 
~Sil Arkesh~

The Magma was starting to run out in the City.  And without Magma, there was no sustenance for the Azer.  The roving bands of brigands and former soldiers had grown more and more desparate, turning on one another for remaining supplies of heat.  The ground was littered with corpses, and many of the smaller groups had been completely wiped out.

But in the compound of the Temple of Agni, life continued.  Alone among the Azer, the priests of Agni, the pyromancers, knew the secret of opening a portal to the Source of All Flame and drawing heat and magma out of the home of their God.  The compound, which now encompassed an entire block, was full of refugees and cripples who had sought shelter here.  

Galfe looked out from his tower room at the borders of the compound, seeing the usual patrols of the largest mercenary bands.  It had been at least a week since the last time one of them had tried to break into the compound... the High Priest imagined they would try again soon.  The Pyromancers had tried to provide their services to the other groups in what remained of Sil Arkesh, but after three of their number had been kidnapped or killed, they did not leave the compound.  That meant that this compound was the only place to get the life-sustaining heat that the Azer used as food, and that made it a target.

Suddenly, a shiver went down Galfe's spine, and he got the distinct impression that something was watching him.  He turned, and saw a strange shimmering in the air just behind him.  A place where the world seemed to... warp and twist around something unseen which floated in the air.

Two long arms darted out of the anomaly, grabbed the Azer and, before Galfe could shout for help, dragged him in.

PP:

2 PP:  Create Plane:  The Leviathan's prison.   What it sounds like.  Will periodically eject a sizable group of Dragonspawn.

2 PP:  Command Land:  The land around the Mootstone is linked to the Leviathan's prison.  Just before the Leviathan's Prison spits out Dragonspawn, a cave will form.  Until this cave is sealed, more dragonspawn will be released.
Reset.
~Badlands~

The thousand faces of Agni glared at Seg.  

Speak.  Why do you remain silent?  We have promised you our protection.  While you... muster your courage, I shall return my posession to where it belongs.  

Agni  breathed on the Sun-Orb, and it began to rise up to the heavens, moving slowly to the west on the long-abandoned route that Agni had commanded it to.  As it rose, it grew brighter and began to burn, tounges of flame shooting from it into the air.  Suddenly, it pulsed a particularly powerful burst of flame and divine power and scores of dragons seemed to burst from the flames, scales as golden as the orb that had birthed them.  En-masse, the dragons circled the Sun and followed it up, forming an honor guard around the returned orb.  As the Sun reached the ancient Line of Fire, the gold dragons left it and headed south, a flowing flock of golden scales and beating wings.

Agni looked down as they flew south.

Unexpected!  Brilliance.  He said, laughing.

~The Eternal Volcano~

Scorch turned as extra light touched the lip of the Volcano and watched as the new Sun moved above the caldera.   He looked at the orb he had found.

"You know... I bet that this..."  He said, trailing off.  The Agni'Vohda/Parasite-Smoke-Demon wrapped the orb in its essence, and rose with it up to the sky.  As the orb rose, it began to shake and lurch from side to side, and Scorch had to hold onto it tighter and tighter to prevent it from rolling free and falling back to earth.  Higher and higher he rose, until the Sun burst into flame.  Scorch was knocked free of the Sun and fell, dazed to earth, where he hit the ground to the west of the Eternal Volcano and all went black.   The sun rose and joined the other, and both grew brighter in proximity to one another.

~The Moot~

Paren looked up as the Sun rose to the heavens.  He looked at the two orbs he was guarding.  The one he was perched on, he still had use for.  The other, however, he was more than happy to return to its rightful place.  

Rise  he commanded to the Sun which had once fallen into the tunnels of Sil Arkesh, which had burned the capital of the dwarves and birthed both the Slaadi and the Orange dragons.  A small portal to the Source of All Flame opened beneath the Orb, and it rose to the heavens on a narrow pillar of flame, soon sparking and bursting to life like its brothers.


3 AP:  Raise three of the Suns (Badlands, Sil Arkesh, Eternal Volcano) back to the heavens to join the Beacon.

OOC:  I'd like to bring all of the Suns back.  There are three left.  One is under the protection of Paren, and will go up as soon as he makes the dragonborn.  One is still in the north, and is unattended.  That should be easy enough to raise up.  And one... doesn't exist anymore, which... I'd like to figure out how to reverse.  Forgotten:  1)  How can we do this?  2)  Feel free to take back Scorch/Ka'Vah... he's done what I wanted him to do.  I plan to have Krr'Ree'E run across him shortly. 
~The Northern Glaciers~

The Northern Light was surrounded by hundreds of White Dragons. They were, for the most part, not intelligent enough to know that this was an immense artifact, something touched by deific hands dozens upon dozens of times. But it was cold, and it glowed, and the White Dragons liked both of those things.

And so when The Northern Light rose in the sky to resume its long-diverted orbit, the White Dragons followed, flying south.

AP Expenditure
 - 1 AP The Northern Light resumes its orbit as one of the seven suns.
 - 1 AP Enhance the affinity between the sun and the white dragons - as long as the Northern Light continues to orbit (and a white dragon basks in its glow), their temperature remains cold enough to think clearly. (Previously, they could only 'store coldness' in the vicinity of the sun)

~The Godmeet~

Sa spoke up where Seg was silent.

"Then let usssssss speak in itsssssss stead. There are forcesssssss that seek destructionsssssss for their own endsssssss. It seeksssssss destruction for destruction'sssssss sake, a massssssss of spiritsssssss. It erred when it sought out thisssssss"

Sa's petals briefly swirled around the God of Deception. "It thought itselvesssssss unobserved, but we were present and observed itsssssss skulkingsssssss."

"It isssssss what corruptsssssss the sunsssssss and sendsssssss great beastsssssss acrosssssssss these landsssssss. We believe that Artun, and thisssssss healer Seg are linked to those spiritsssssss."
~The GodMoot (why not...)~

Agni leveled a flat stare at the swirling petals.

Yes, I had come to the same conclusion myself.  The identity of these spirits or forces remains to be revealed, however. 
~The Godmeet~ (check your vowels, Toph!)

There was a brief swirl of petals, then thoughtful stillness.

"We think that perhapsssssss, their identitiesssssss are meaninglessssssss. It doesssssss not matter what they are, as long as we prevent their evilsssssss, yesssssss?"

Again, the petals halted, nearly frozen in mid-air. Sa was still for many moments, apparently lost in thought.
Reset
---The GodMoot (Why not Indeed)---

 
Azgo's discipline slipped, and he could not help a slight amount of scorn drible into his ancient voice.

"Yes Agni, imprisonment always works... and tell me, what is the easier foe: A Lion, or a hive of wasps?"

Azgo's blind head swiveled towards Sa.

"Meaningless? No, not meaningless. But i feel you are right in your... priorities. First learn where it is, and stop it if possible. But knowledge is a powerful weapon. The origin of this creature should be known, and kept vigil for in the future."

Azgo waited, growing less and less content with the effeciency of this meeting. Azgo reazched out for Seg, but thought better of it, and instead loomed over the smaller god. His maul glimmered in the sunlight.

"Agni, why is this servant silent? We have little time for children's games! If you refuse to do what is neccessary, hand him over to me!"


He said to me: "It is done. I am the Alpha and the Omega, the Beginning and the End. To him who is thirsty I will give to drink without cost from the spring of the water of life. -Revelation 21:6

Any man's death diminishes me, because I am involved in mankind, and therefore never send to know for whom the bells tolls; it tolls for thee.-John Donne, Meditation XVII

My photo was found here.

~Badlands~

Give him time, Azgo.  Cooperation is new to him, and it is very clear he is quite afraid of whatever his master is.


~The Moot~

 
They came.  Drawn from all corners of the earth, the dragons came to the Mootstone, which had bathed in the blood of dozens of dragons, drinking in the essence of DragonKind itself and broadcasting an irresistable call.  From under the earth, where they had scattered, the Orange Dragons crawled to the surface.  From the east, still flecked with the ichor of the Behemoth, the Azure Dragons flew over the Mootstone, circled and came to land not far away.  The Red and Black dragons, tired from their long battle against the Leviathan and its minions, huddled against the Earth and licked their wounds as they surveyed the ruined corpses of many of their kin.  From the North, minds blessed by Sa, the formerly bestial White Dragons flew a complicated greeting overhead and settled their serpintine bodies to the ground.  And from the West and Above, flying down from the restored Suns themselves, dragons the color of liquid sunlight expertly landed just south of the Mootstone.

Paren looked out from his perch atop the last remaining untapped DragonOrb.  Beneath him, he could feel the latent energy pulsing, waiting to be released.  Around him, he saw his kind, arrayed in all their colors, a living tapestry of life.  Agni would be proud of what he had created, even if Paren knew now it had not been intentional.  They had been separated, like the suns, for so long, but their great division was ended now.  The Moot would truly begin.

A low droning noise escaped from Paren's ashy body, a subtly modulating tone that carried within it a strange, syncopated rhythm.  It carried through the crowd, cutting beneath the words spoken from one dragon to another, unnoticed.  Another drone joined his, an Orange Dragon not far from the edge of the circle of Dragonkind.  After a moment, it fell into rhythm, and the drone carried on.  Another Orange Dragon joined in, then another.  Then, a new sound, higher, weaving a string of tones over the base rhythm of the Orange Dragons.  An Azure Dragon, looking surprised and bewildered at the music escaping its lips, was joined by another, and another, and the Song grew.  The Red dragons were next, Morenth's voice leading a careful harmony that slid into and out of concordance with the Azure song.  And the Song grew.  Next, the White Dragons, letting out a high descant that danced along with the syncopation of the Orange Drone while strengthening first the azure notes, then the red notes of the base song itself.  And the Song Grew.  The Gold Dragons joined next, rich melody drawing the red and azure into a whole.  And the Song Grew.

Paren looked over at Cantorix and his voice whispered in the black dragon's head:

You lead the Black Dragons, Cantorix.  Join us, the song is so nearly complete.  Let the Moot Truly Begin.

 
Forgotten
 I have plans for either direction, so if the black dragons think this is all to 'pretty', that is completely fine


~The West  (sorry, forgetting the continent name)~

The arrival of the Itholians had taken the Insuannon by surprise.  Songs of terror raced from tree to tree, describing the deaths of several of their kind at the axes, arrows and even hands of the new inhabitants of the western shores.  Rumormongers even recounted tales of the savages EATING Insuannon brought down by their weapons.  Unable to fight effectively against the superior tools of the Itholains and unable to communicate, the Insuannon found themselves traveling deeper and deeper into the forest, towards the mountain that lore said they were never meant to go near.

Twill, an Insuannon just past his adult molt, raced up the slope of the mountain, chasing a rumor.  No one quite remembered why they were not supposed to travel to the mountain, why they were supposed to stay far away from the upper, cave-riddled slopes.  But Twill's grandfather had been a historian, gathering and preserving in his own mind the fading lore-songs of the Insuannon people.  Twill could still remember the night, about a year before his grandfather had died, when he had sung a peculiar song... an ancient song about ice warriors who guarded the mountain, who guarded a secret.  It seemed absurd, and was the only song Grandfather knew about the subject, but the old man had shared it with him when Twill still thought he wanted to follow in his grandfather's flightpath.  

And now it was leading Twill onward, hopefully to the salvation of the Insuannon people.  Finally, Twill dove into a large cave, and stopped abruptly.

Dozens of carved stone chairs lined a corridor that sloped downward into the mountain proper.  On each chair slumped a crystaline being, head bowed, weapon of ice barely held, if at all.  Twill breathed in with shock and a small gasp escaped his beak.  

Immediately, the eye of the nearest being snapped open and a glowing, cold blue gaze bore into Twill.

3 AP:  Shape Populace: Crystallines - They look like shardminds from 4e.

3 AP left. 
--Godmoot---

Azgo loomed even closer over the relatively small form of Seg.

"He has much greater things to fear... Perhaps the Abyss would calm his nerves."

Azgo felt no pleasure at all in threatening the god, but the necessary was indeed necessary.

And if Anyone, in all the wide feilds and nooks of creation, knew of pain and its infliction... it was The Crowned in Blood.

---The Moot---

It had been over so quickly... One moment, the dragonspawn had threatened to overwhelm what little opposition was left, and suddenly, the marsh of flesh and sinew had been casted out. The dragonspawn gone, and light broke out over the Moot.

Cantorix's mind was still steeped in blood and the Wrath. Everything was muddled, and the differences between dragonkin and dragonspawn were slim. Cantorix stumbled towards the nearest dragon with claws upraised, and shambled into collapse. The ice cold waters about the Moot stone were clouded with blood, and they numbed his tissues.

Though the mind was eager, the body could not bear another step. Bone fragments rattled about in his heaving lungs before being clogged with mucus. Thick serpentine bruises marked the whole of his limbs, and gaping holes in the skin let blood and swollen organs relax. His leathery wings were torn like bedsheets and beat uselessly against the wind. And in a few places the claws and even a few fingers of dragonspawn were embedded in the flesh as if they had been there all his life.

Pain welled up like a geyser in his broken body, only to be carelessly ingored. Battle still consumed Cantorix. He attempted to crawl towards the nearest dragon, sizing them up for the dealing of death. It was clear that the Wrath had seized and destroyed him.

Or, it would have. But something pierced the burdensome veil of his mind. Amid all the cries for blood and the echoes of bones breaking, a shard of true draconic essence drifted upon the wind and rang about his mind. It was more than the Wrath, more than the Pain. It was... what it was. The shadows of blood were cast into light, and the distant demands of Azgo were drowned out in the chorus. Something stirred in Cantorix, and in all the Black Dragons caught up in the Wrath.

And yet, it was incomplete.

Over the course of several, long seconds, Cantorix's mind returned to him, filled with wonder. He tried to stand, but found himself inable to. His breathing grew heavier.

He couldn't explain it, what he felt. What They felt. Or what he did next. But he did it with little hesitation. He sang. All of them did, but it was different from the others.

For the Black Dragons sang a dirge. Its notes were haunting and heavy on the heart, flowing into an undercurrent beneath the song that bore upon itself all the other notes. For it was on the shoulders of pain, and loss, and misery that all the other emotions rested. It was on the shoulders of the strong that the weak flourished, and in the arms of death that victory was paid for.

The loss of the ancestors felt as sharp as the loss of their brothers and sisters and fathers and mothers and sons and daughters. 

But aside from all the pain was a strong, if subtle,... bitterness. It was an ugly bitterness and horrid company to those who felt it. For only now did the Black dragons keenly understood that this pain, this loss, would always continue untill Duty itself crumbled. As long as the Wounded One lived, as long as Craterspawn flocked to the skies, and as long as there were followers of his ways, it was the Duty of Black dragons to die for the good of all. They could not escape it. And that was embittering. 

But a few did not sing. A few Ebon Dragons fled in the chaos to the wild expanses of the world below. And it was there that they plotted vengence upon the foreign dragons and all who aligned with them.








He said to me: "It is done. I am the Alpha and the Omega, the Beginning and the End. To him who is thirsty I will give to drink without cost from the spring of the water of life. -Revelation 21:6

Any man's death diminishes me, because I am involved in mankind, and therefore never send to know for whom the bells tolls; it tolls for thee.-John Donne, Meditation XVII

My photo was found here.

Reset for Fun and Profit!
~Badlands~

Seg took a deep breath and opened his mouth -


~The Moot~

Paren's ash form lit up with appreciation as Cantorix and the other black dragons began to sing a dirge that resonated deep beneath the other music, and brought it to completeness.  It was fitting, that the darkness of pain and death was what underlay the beauty of the combined draconic races.  Paren's conciousness flitted around the gathered dragonkind, soaking in the song and seeing how it affected each color of dragon.  Some, such as the red dragons, accepted the entire song.  The joy, the despair, the happiness, the anger, all combined into a whole.  Others, however, resisted.  The Gold dragons, born moments earlier, rejected the sorrow.  The whites sang their angry descant louder in an attempt to drown out the happier tones.  And the Blacks, for so long caught up in their rages, refused anything but the unhappy notes that resonated through several of the lines of harmony.

Paren cast his voice outwards, speaking into the mind of each gathered dragon.

"Do not resist.  This is dragonkind, all of it.  The worst parts and the best."   He looked at representatives of each race as he spoke.  "Each of you, each kind, was born from sorrow and even death.   The Reds, first born, born from the bones of Craterspawn and the souls of Agni'Vohda who struggled and died above you.  Whites, born from the death of an entire city of elves.  Blacks, born from the remains of a great battle and scarred at the level of your psyhche by the place of your birth.  Oranges, born likewise from Craterspawn bodies, set to fight at the moment of your creation.  Azures, born from the deaths of the Nix and the sorrow of the humans.  Golds, born from the immolated corpses of an entire Craterspawn legion.   This is your heritage, the spark of life, the spark given by death that allowed the power of the Gods to flow through these orbs and bring you to life.

But to those of you who feel that your only option is these baser, darker emotions, as that is your heritage, look around.  Reds, decimated by the explosion of the Eternal Volcano, you have found the meaning of family in your times of trouble.  Whites, by the power of the Gods, your anger has been tempered and your cold, calculating nature has revealed itself.  Oranges, gifted with the powers of Pyromancy, you and your kin saved an entire race and learned the meaning of honor.  Blacks, born of chaos and cast from your birthplace by an angry God.  You came together and formed rules and a means by which to tame your natures.  You have learned the meaning of discipline.  Azures, your lives guarding the Beacon, now returned to its rightful place with its sisters, taught you the lesson and meaning of duty.  And Golds, summer children born as the Suns returned to the heaven, you personify the meaning of joy.

I speak of what you have learned for a reason.  Once, there were seven suns.  Six were cast to earth and lost, for a time.  All seven were gifted with the ability to create dragons.  Look around you.  Six of those orbs fulfilled their purpose, birthing all of you in your rainbow of experiences and knowledge.  But one, one Orb remains.  

Paren hopped from the orb and wrapped his forearms around it, lengthinging his limbs to accomodate the size of the Sun.   

 
This one.  But this one is different, is it not?  It has not been primed for creation by Craterspawn... mindless killing machines.  It has not been primed by the fear of the Nix or the corpses of the elves.  This Orb, my kin, was primed by us.  By dragon blood spilled over it.  Those of you who can, reach out and feel the power within.  This, friends, is the last DragonKind, and with our combined knowledge and experience, we will teach this kind to be the best of all of us.

 
Paren unfurled his ashen wings and lifted the orb from the earth, flying high into the sky above the  Mootstone.  As the dragons below craned their heads upwards, Paren let the orb drop.

The orb landed directly on the tip of the Mootstone, the sharp tip cracking it open like an egg and spilling divine power down its sides.  As the golden light slid down the stone and hit the earth, it underwent a dramatic transformation, the liquid potentiality shifting and morphing itself into hundreds of tall, scaled men and women of all the colors of Dragonkind, who dragged themselves to their feet and stood, staring, at the assembled dragons surrounding them.

Behold!  Paren said after a moment.  The Dragonborn.

As the exarch spoke, two Dragonborn, a male gold and a female black, stepped out from their kin and she spoke to all Dragonkind.

"We have been born from your very blood, kinfolk, and have heard all that has been spoken.  We too will defend the world from our twisted kin, and will live and build our greatest cities not far from this valley."

The man gestured to the ruined landscape, poisoned lake and wounded dragons and continued.  

"But this is no place to build a home, not like this, poisoned by the Leviathan's blood and stained with our own.  Let it be cleansed."

The two dragonborn lifted their arms, and small portals to the Source of All Fire appeared between their raised hands.  Fire darted out, wrapped around one of the green orbs floating nearby, and squeezed.  The orb broke apart into hundreds of thousands of shards that scattered and fell all across the valley.  Wherever they touched, the shards would vanish, and healing would begin.  Some fell on the earth, and grass grew and spread to fill the valley.  Some fell on the water, and the lake became pure once more, and some fell on the dragons themselves, healing all wounds and reinvigorating everyone.

As Paren finished reforging the sun and sending it heavenwards, Morenth approached Cantorix.

"Are those kin of yours going to be a problem?  The ones that refused to sing, or the ones that attacked us earlier?"  



 
0 AP (already paid... a VERY long time ago):  Shape Race:  The Dragonborn.  Dragonborn come in six colors (the colors of the dragons), and individual temperments of the dragonborn tend to mirror those of the color of dragon they are.  

In my conception, in some strange, paradoxical way, the Dragoborn are the apex of dragonkind... a 'dragon's dragon' if you will.  This is not to say that they are more powerful than other dragons, or that other dragons necesarially 'respect' them overly much, but more that they lack some of the limitations of the other dragonkin (the Black's overwhelming sense of rage and fatalism, the white's  tendency to lapse into ferality when exposed to heat, the red's sense of paranoia, etc) while still posessing their 'better' traits (Discipline, Intelligence, Loyalty, etc).  Oh, and they can all do pyromancy.  Dragonborn mages are totally cool in this setting :D

Yeah, I'm taking liberties with what the Dragonborn know, but we're trying to wrap this all up, so... no time for long discussions catching them up :D

0 AP:  One of the green orbs is expended, healing all combatants of their wounds. 

1 AP:  Reforge the Sun and send it up to the heavens.

5 AP remains


---The Moot---

Cantorix gasped, feeling the rippling of his flesh knitting together. Bones snapped back into place, bloodevaporated, and skin fused into itself. For a few moments, he remained still. It felt almost foreign to be able to breathe with both lungs again.

And more than that, it felt foreign to be... himself again. He had felt the deepest corners of the Wrath and stared into the eyes of Azgo himself. It was something that any dragon before, if any dragon had experienced this before, had taken to the depths of the grave. Cantorix would now live with the visage of a God emblazoned on the insides of his eyes, stirring with the movement of his blood. To think that such Wrath was not only in every Ebon dragon, but that such anger was only a shard of his true Wrath... It was disturbing.

And so he lay, contemplating, untill Morenth's voice called him back from the depths. A thick shudder went down his whole spine, and Cantorix was spurred into action. He shakily stood, and looked at Morenth as if he had not seen her in years.

"Kin of ours... you mean."

Cantorix took his time, pausing often for breath.

"Who can say? Perhaps... they will gather power... to shake the bones... of the.... mountains and the pillars of the... sky. A diety's favor... can kill and save... even in the same breath.

Or perhaps they will struggle and over the slow course... of years dwindle into a handful of blinded rebels searching for a... purpose."

Cantorix examined himself, feeling vigor returning to his breath. He was covered in scars across the whole of his body. By all rights, he never should have survived his wounds...

"But they are not a threat now. What of the Moot?"

Cantorix looked out over the assembled crowds of dragons and the dragonborn. This was a moment generations from now would hold in the highest regard. They would live, and kill, for the mere opportunity to have stood here and listened to the Song. In his own way, Cantorix did not want the Moot to end... But it had to eventually.

He said to me: "It is done. I am the Alpha and the Omega, the Beginning and the End. To him who is thirsty I will give to drink without cost from the spring of the water of life. -Revelation 21:6

Any man's death diminishes me, because I am involved in mankind, and therefore never send to know for whom the bells tolls; it tolls for thee.-John Donne, Meditation XVII

My photo was found here.

Morenth let out a low chuckle.  "Yes, our kin.  I wonder what our children's children will think of all of us here today?  Do you think they will remember?"

Morenth fell silent, listening as the Song began around them once more, dragonborn each taking up the part of their color as they joined in.  But the Song had less urgency now, less... necessity.  The reason for the Moot, the gathering of the dragonkin and the birth of the dragonborn, was now at an end.  

"It would appear the Moot is drawing to a close, my friend.  But I assume the stone itself still works.  Could we not hold these at regular intervals?  Perhaps every fifty years would be a good time.  Would you agree to that, Cantorix?  How about you, Lucan?"  Morenth turned slightly to include the Azure dragon, who had recently landed nearby.


They had spoken for a few minutes when Paren, followed by a regal-looking Gold and a particularly crafty White.

There remains one task that I must perform, and I cannot think of better companions to do it with me, if you are willing.  If you recall, my story said there were seven Suns turned into seven Races of dragonkin.  But only six shine in the heavens above.  One was shattered and lost, the one that created your kind, Cantorix.  Tell me, do you remember anything of the orb?  Even the smallest fragment of it would be enough to reforge it, although we would require the tools of the Gods to do it.

 
OOC to Raven and Pruinus (and Pen or Thought or Shadow or anyone else lurking if you want to jump in and claim one of the unnamed dragons)
 

Yes, what I am proposing is a dramatic final adventure for our favorite dragons into the Abyss to find and kill Umbra, claim a shard of the Sun from him, carry it to the Godforge of... Aldii's God (blanking on the name) and reforge it.  Why should the gods have all the final adventures?
 
---The Desert Wastes---

"Don't let any escape! They'll regroup and return if even one manages to survive!"

A howl of bloodlust and adrenaline rose up among the armored band as they took up the hunt. Their blades flashed under the scorching sun, and a thin mist of blood followed in their wake. There was no mercy to be found here, and there was even less hope.

But the families ran anyway; they had to. The crumbling fortress that had given them such security now was nothing more than a crypt. They ran over hill and plain, leaving the hobbling to their own fates with bitter tears. And in the unholy hours of the night they tossed about in their sleep, thinking of those that had been put to the sword that one day long ago they had held in their arms.

Days of fleeing passed, and the soft grasses faded into deset. Wild winds lashed their eyes with sand and their backs with scalding burns. Even more perished, swallowed up in the shifting sands of the dune seas. Their pace slowed. And the... party that had hounded them finally ran them into the ground.

The few that could speak cried out in dry, wretched voices.

"Save us, Azgo! Deliver us!"

And that scream would have echoed into obscurity, if a small patrol of humaniod insects had not been close by.

---Sil Peraz---

They had heard rumors. Legends of dwarven paradise where ale rained down from the clouds and the gems of the earth practically burst from their pockets. Myths of demigods living among mortals, teaching and crafting wonders. Stories of clans with the favor of the gods and the peace of dreams woven into the very stone.

Sil Peraz.

But the Sil Peraz was no legend. Those that searched long enough, gave up their lives and their riches in pursuit of its fabled gates, found it. Were the rumors true? Perhaps. Perhaps not.

But They had to know. They hungered for luxury, craved splendor. And so the Three of Them let their dark obsessions drive them forward. Any beast that stood in their way was slain, and dwarf that called them fools... was eaten, bones and beard and all.

And they had found it.  They stood before the gates and trembled at the reward of all their wicked labors. The "paradise" of the dwarves.

The new "paradise" of the Oni.

Reminder
Just a quick touch up, the Oni are humanoids warped by the consumption of Craterspawn ash. They feel terrible hunger, greed, and lust and seek to dominate wherever they are. Oni can shapeshift into humans, and into dwarves.


---An Old, Forgotten Home---

A scraggly young Nix hiked with a steady, unnerving pace up the hardened magma's path. A battered bow was strung across his back, and a collection of pinewood arrows of his own crafting  rested snugly in a quiver. Sand was spread thickly within his fur; ash clung to his boots untill the leather was blackened.

The path steepened, and the Nix's pace... quickened. The more crags blocked his path and more he was forced to crawl hands and knees up the volcano's side, the swifter he moved. His thin muscles were unyeilding and tireless.

But his mind was mostly empty. He preferred it that way. He didn't have to remember. Only simple thoughts moved about, and he acted mostly on instinct and the tenacity he earned over months of aimless wandering.

He had seen The Eternal Volcano in the distance, and without hesitation knew that he had to climb it. And now he was doing much more than climbing it; he was conquering it.

Even though he did not know what lurked within, or what might have been watching him even now.

He said to me: "It is done. I am the Alpha and the Omega, the Beginning and the End. To him who is thirsty I will give to drink without cost from the spring of the water of life. -Revelation 21:6

Any man's death diminishes me, because I am involved in mankind, and therefore never send to know for whom the bells tolls; it tolls for thee.-John Donne, Meditation XVII

My photo was found here.

~Verandrel~

The inhabitants of High Ithol were afraid to leave their villages, afraid to venture into the forest that was the sole source of good wood on the island, for many of those who entered did not return.  A few survivors of the attacked parties had reported strange beings of ice and crystal who appeared out of nowhere, dealing death with effortless ease as the panicked woodcutters fled.  The towns and cities of High Ithol began to grow crowded, as construction on new homes slowed to a crawl.

~Desert~

Krr'Ree'E uttered a sharp trill which brough her companions up short.  She thought she had...  the Chitrach dropped to the ground and laid flat against it, letting the tremors of the earth enter her body and reach her sound-processing organs.  It was faint... and completely incomprehensible, but the tone of desparation was unmistakable.  

«Someone is in trouble.  To the... northeast.  Hurry and follow.»

Her band of Chitrachs fell into place behind her, scampering with ease over the dunes that had finally come to replace most of the ruined land left over from the eruption of the Eternal Volcano long ago.  Soon they reached the remnants of the band of Azgo-worshipers and, moments before their pursuers could overtake them, the Chitrachs rushed and surrounded the beleaguered refugees.

Krr'Ree'E eyed the attacking party, singled out the one that seemed the most likely to be the leader and, after letting out what sounded very much like a human sigh at the futility of talking with meatbags, said:

«Why do you chase these people over our lands?  Explain yourself.»


~Sil Peraz~

The tunnel to Sil Peraz was blocked by a large wooden gate.  As the three dwarves approached, a voice boomed out.  

"WHO APPROACHES THE LAND OF THE DWARVES?  THE LAND OF SIL PERAZ?" 

~The Eternal
Volcano~ 

The Caldera of the Eternal Volcano was said to be one of the holiest places in all of the world, or at least, that is what ancient Nixian lore had said.  Timmy wasn't sure that he put much stock into any of that, but it was also said that those on great quests would find help there, and that, Timmy could understand.  As Timmy crested the edge of the Caldera, he temporarially staggered back from the heat that was rising from the lake of fire below him.  As he returned to stare down at the lake of fire was surprised to see a set of stairs carved into the wall, leading down to a platform that led out into the middle of the Caldera itself.  Timmy, not entirely certain that what he was doing was by any definition sane, made his way down these steps.  It was not until he had stepped onto the platform, made of thick, opaque glass, that he realized that he was not alone.  Before him, resting against a glass pillar, was a being of fire and ash, an Agni'Vohda.

"It has been a long time since a Nix has come to visit us."  The fire-being said, black eyes seeming to stare through Timmy.  "We have been watching you.  Why have you come?" 

~The God Meet~

Sa had been still for many moments.

But then both Seg and the burned husk of Artun began involuntary giggles and singgers as they were tickled by thousands of petals.

Before long, a black inky cloud was seeping from the laughing gods, that drifted lazily through the air in the direction of Tzu'miel.

More petals struck out, and the god of deception remained silent - he too was laughing helplessly, but he at least had the dignity to deceive the others into his apparent silence. Sa, if it cared, said nothing, for it was not Tzu'miel that the flower god was after.

"Lurkersssssss in shadowsssssss, reveal yourselvesssssss! Plague of corruptionsssssss, reveal yourselvesssssss! Spiritsssssss of Malice, reveal yourselvesssssss!"

And with a pop, it was done. TASOE was expelled with a wet, flopping sound, hurled from the body of Tzu'miel like so many raw fish. Its first thought was panic -- never before had it stood alone, and vulnerable, before those not of its own making. For a time, there was a standoff, as TASOE considered the other gods, and they, in turn, viewed TASOE with varying levels of surprise, anger, and confusion.

Then, TASOE did the only sensible thing -- it fled.

As it skittered away, so too did the moment of silence, and the other gods hurried to chase. "There they are! Get them!" said no one in particular.

AP

-1 AP : Sanction Gods -- TASOE cannot re-enter the body of any god (willing or otherwise) until it spends 1 AP to counter this action.
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