A scalding sun rose once more on the bleak landscape inhabited by the goblins, for the last time. The goblins, warlike and vicious, had fought with their large cousins as well as the humans, and had come out the worse. When allied with them, they were used as fodder for the spears of the men. No more. The goblins would find their own way, far from the cruel glare of the sun which both nurtured and scorched them.
Meanwhile, the hobgoblins too changed. More powerful than the mere goblins, and yet without the military strength to succeed without them, they turned to acts of deceit and cunning.
PP caried over: 2 Domain point going into... Evolution, I think. PP this turn: 5 + 2/2/1 Domain + 1/1/1
1PP + 1 Impose - Guide Sick of their lot as the runts of the world, many of the goblins decide their time here is done, and pack up and head off to explore the Underdark.
2 Evolution PP - Guide - "Hobcraft" The hobgoblins begin to develop a sort of magic of their own, a magic of trickery and illusion. It's not magic in the typical sense, something which can be learnt or studied, but an innate power which comes to them almost as easily as eating and fighting.
The squadron of hobgoblins snuck through the forest underbrush, moving to surround the pixie force which had materialized out of the trees to halt the advance of the main thrust of the goblinoid army towards their well-hidden city. The fifty soldiers kept their eyes peeled, looking both around them as well as above them, having learned the hard way with the deaths of several goblinoids from well-aimed rocks dropped on them by groups of pixies working together. Their swords lay loosely in their sheathes, ready to be drawn at any moment while allowing them to keep their arms free for optimal stealthiness.
As they rounded a large clump of bushes, they saw their way blocked by five pixies, and for a moment stopped and stared, marveling at the crisp colors and life-force that eminated from the five beings in front of them.
That delay of a moment was their undoing. The five pixies shot their hands forward, and they lost their hyper-alive sheen in unison. At the same moment, ten of the swords of the hobgoblins jerked free of their fastenings and slashed viciously through the arms, torsos and necks of their once owners. The swords lashed out, taking out another ten, then twenty before the remaining hobgoblins could draw their own swords. However, with nothing to fight aside from the metal itself, the remaning hobgoblins died in a red shower of blood. When the last hobgobling cleared, the pixies moved forward towards the swords, each touching a sword in turn, which clattered to the ground, lifeless, as the pixie's body flared anew with life. Nine swords were reclaimed in this way, and four of the five pixies had completely restored their powers.
The last pixie stared at the one sword which had been broken by the hobgoblins before they had died. Another of the five approached and laid a hand on the other's shoulder.
"You will recieve the lion's share of the reward for this in order to make up for your loss, Yol, as we agreed. Come, we must return to Hocix."
The pixie took one final look at the sword, sighed, and followed the others back towards the city.
1 PP (generic): Harm Populace: The Hobgoblins are attacked with increasing severity by the sparkcaster-led pixies.
2 Time - Command The volcanic activity in the Fields of Fire calms. The region is still hot and prone to eruptions, especially in the central caldera, but it's now more or less inhabitable by most creatures.
2 PP - Nourish - Create Obsidian The cooling magma in many places forms deposits of obsidian, useful for making fragile but sharp tools and weapons.
Ryndell continued to walk among the mortals, though it was rare for one to notice him. He heard stories of other gods, strange tales of moving mountains and living seas, but soon forgot each story in turn. He had resolved not to hold on to the past, no matter how inconsequential an idea may seem. No longer did he feel guilt. No longer did he feel longing, or loss. Instead, he found himself empty, except for the ambrosia tea he lived on. He learned to take pleasure in the moment, in the company he kept, and in the world around him. He healed soldiers from every side of conflict. He healed creatures and beasts of each race (even the ones who injured themselves attacking his immortal form). Ryndell found a certain peace, an effervescent joy in being the only god of the world.
1PP Craft Domain (the 1PP I set aside last turn): Bliss: Call it ignorance, call it willful detachment, call it peaceful protest. Whatever you call it, it brings Ryndell ease of mind. Unfortunately it also makes him believe he's the only god in existence.
In his travels, the people he spoke with became followers. Regardless of race they found wisdom in his words, and joy in their practice. Unfortunately, their monotheistic beliefs and lack of Ryndell's powers meant they needed to toughen up. They developed martial prowess for the purpose of self defense, and the protection of others (so that they too may find joy in the wandering god).
2PP Guide to create Monks - To other mortals they seem heretical or heathen in that they do not believe in the gods above or below. Instead they aspire to worship only detachment and the moment they live in. Plus they kick prodigious bottom.
Ikola fluttered backwards in surprise and shock as the Thing began destroying all the life on the moon.
What HAVE you DONE? The god raged at Order, watching as the grass and lizards of the moon dried up, died and vanished as the thing moved on.
As the creature... if creature was the best word to describe it, turned to Kahnda, the exarch, Ikola sprang into action.
You wish to have this place be left alone? Then so be it, it is left alone. In turn, leave alone what I now create if you value your own safety.
Ikola stabbed one wing into the darkness, and with the other, gestured at the moon it stood on. All around, all manners of life, from the great Tree to the lizards to the blades of grass rose up from the surface of the moon and flew in the direction of Ikola's outstretched hand. In that direction, something was already taking form. It grew in fits and starts, with the impression of twisting vines, writhing worms and groaning wood as it went, becoming larger and larger as it curled upon itself, layering over and over again gnarled branches and trunks.
Just as the emigrants from the Moon were about to reach the growing and writhing mass, it suddenly grew quiescent, a sheet of smooth wood covering the still-moving plant-stuff within. Kahnda arrived first, massive roots burrowing into the soft wood and piercing into the core of the world. Leaves turned to soak up the light and transmit its power downwards into the moon-complex itself, giving it sustainability. So too did the bushes and grasses find purchase and establish a symbiotic relationship, providing the interior with photosynthetic energy while recieving nutrients from specially created organs within the moon.
Stay Away.Ikola said again, then turned and left the barren moon and headed back down to the surface, until an unfamiliar God caught its attention.
Hi, Omus! We should probably, you know, meet at some point.
7 (3 life, 3 generate, 1 generic) PP: Spawn Beast (and what a beast it is!): The Living Moon. Roughly half the diameter of the real moons, this massive tree-world forms symbiotic relationships with the creatures on its surface, exchanging energy for nutrients. Its still growing... 1 PP (generic): Guide Life: The simple life on the Moon moves to the Living Moon.
Still furious at Ikola, he screeched at the fleeing god. "That is what you wanted, isn't it? Life on the moon! Thats what you wanted. But I see you in truth now, Ikola. Its only life if it fits your narrow definitions of what is acceptable. A curse on your and your spawn if you continue your hypocrisy!"
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Ikola heard Order's parting screech, and, barely slowing, whispered a response into a packet of power and sent it floating backwards, where it unfolded before the other, releasing a final saccharine-sweet message.
But child, is not defining things the very essence of Order?
Gilkt eyeballed the camp carefully. He glanced at the group he had collected back in the capitol. They were all mages of some renown. This should be easy. Gilkt had incorrectly deduced that Umi had led him here to conquer the Sahuagin. This was blatantly incorrect, but the sea god had yet to notice. Either way, Gilkt had found a small group of the scaly humanoids, and he intended to capture them, and force them to take him to wherever it was that Sahuagin as a race came from. Then he would conquer it. Things were about to get very bloody for both sides.
Gilkt nodded to his second in command, a priest, and an expert in cyromancy. The Kalamar slipped forward, and then, as one, began raining icy destruction down of the Sahuagin camp. That’s when they started to dissolve. Apparently the lizard men had their own mages as well. Kalamar were being teleported about, cutting them off from their companions, and then either torn apart with weapons, or simply… dissolved. It was quite strange really.
The high priest slipped a tentacle into his pack, pulling from it the Orb of Everlasting Ice. After a bit of experimentation and consultation, he discovered that it could boost his cyromantic abilities tenfold. Perhaps even twentyfold. Perhaps not. Either way, it helped, big time. The Orb was the only reason Gilkt didn’t die while his companions were slaughtered.
He swam. He swam as fast as he could, using Unami to force the current to speed him along. And he got away, but only just. He stumbled back to Ika, days later. He was beaten, and was disappointed in his god. That night, he prayed to the tentacle one, hoping to receive some insight about what might’ve happened.
~~In the Ocean~~
This was… Unexpected. Gilkt had provoked the Sahuagin into starting an all-out war. Umi had never intended for Gilkt’s band to fight anyone. He had figured that they would establish some trade connections or something, and then promptly proceeded to not pay attention. That’snot how it happened at all. Now the lizard men were amassing an army to attack the Kalamar, gathering their fish-men brethren, and the high priest was renouncing his religion.
Well, shoot. Now what? Gilkt had screwed up, badly, and now everyone was going to suffer. Umi let out a gurgle of deep irritation. He decided to allow the Sahuagin their retaliation, figuring that they probably wouldn’t be able to take down the Kalamar anyways. Then something else would happen, but what, the tentacle one could not say. He would decide a further course of action from there. A new leader for the Kalamar would be needed…
2PP Guide + 2PP Guide (1 Impose PP, 3 General PP) – The Sahuagin and Locacath are provoked into attacking the Kalamar. They lose.
1 PP Guide (1 General PP) – The Kalamar are sent into a state of political disarray due to the fact that the high priest, who runs the whole show, is no longer a priest, and nobody know what to do about it. Other priests are currently working on resolving the problem.
Amnis stretched. He had had a nice nap, but it was over now. He felt a bit refreshed, but still a bit peeved. When he first awoke, he had been satisfied, happy even, but he could not form a gurgle of satisfaction to tell the world about it. Something would have to be done.
He concentrated his energy on where he believed the mouth should be. Somewhere in the middle of the ocean. Perhaps… Yes, there. That was the perfect spot. He began to force energy into tearing a rift in the ocean in that spot. A small hole appeared. Then it expanded. Then it expanded some more. Soon enough, there was a roaring whirlpool, one moving and twisting with Amnis’ thoughts. It was a suitable mouth.
The sea tried to gurgle. The Maw of the Sea, as Amnis had decided to call it, let out a titanic spout of water. Brilliant. Absolutely brilliant. He gurgled with joy, shooting more seawater into the air. This was a very suitable mouth indeed.
2PP Command (2 Ocean PP) – A giant whirlpool opens up in the middle of the ocean. This acts as a mouth for Amnis, and it is called the Maw of the Sea. Whenever the sea feels a particularly strong emotion, a geyser of water shoots from the center of the whirlpool, jetting to heights of up to a hundred feet. The height is directly proportional to the strength of Amnis’ emotion.