Note: Serious, reliable gamers only, please. This PbP takes place in the very long running Cosmothea Campaign Setting which is the official setting of the Cosmothea RPG. (Want to know more? See the OOC or check out my sig.)
No posts should be made in this forum until your character is approved.
You can find the OOC Thread CLICK HERE (It's on my own site so you can have plenty of room to spread your wings, make an entire thread just for your character, etc.)
(To read the original OOC introduction, click HERE.
[OOC: Btw, I'm opening up a new PbP "Secrets of Cathor: World in Crisis"(Click here for details) for those that want to play in a very cool, unusual fantasy/science fiction PbP. Serious gamers only, please! It will take place on the ring world Cathor exclusively. It will be a spin off of the Director's Cut! Check it out!]
All Cosmothea PbP games are being moved to our own forums at QT Games, which you can find here: http://www.qt-games.com
It climbed effortlessly into the sky, its tiny, beautiful wings catching the light as it rode the breeze. Suddenly dipping low to avoid the high branches of an ancient oak, it shot up again, caught a strong current, let it carry it a ways, then gracefully descended in sweeping circles toward the meadow below.
The girl, no taller than an axe handle, watched the butterfly, her eyes tracing its path across the sky, a smile lighting up her whole face, which was like an angel's. The butterfly landed on a flower right beside her. She regarded it for a moment. How fearless it was. Majestic, delicate, pure. It seemed content to rest on the flower petal forever, free of concerns over its future, regret over its past, heartache over a lost lover, loneliness or any other emotion. Kneeling in the grass among the flowers, the girl remained very still, her purple and pink dress almost indistinguishable from the surrounding flowers. On the edges of her mind, a darkness began to grow, but she pushed it away and focused on the butterfly. How lovely and free ...
“That is why ...” she said, as a large, dirty boot landed squarely, and heavily upon the butterfly, killing it instantly, “...you will never become that which you most long for, Thrax."
“Well you’d know ‘bout longin' for things. Ain’t you got somethin’ better ta do wit your time?” the towering, armored warrior said, wiping his boot off on the grass. His presence had been heralded by a deep, pungeant odor. A huge axe was slung over his shoulder, his exposed chest and legs were covered in scars. He stood casually looking down at the girl, who appeared no older than seven summers. “I could think of a couple things,” he said, a greasy smile forming across his ugly, rough face.
The girl remained as still as a statue, never looking up. She was still staring at the spot where the butterfly had been. It’s tiny form now laying wingless and almost unrecognizable among the flattened grass.
"In case you forgot, this ain't Palidanea. I c'n go wherever I want." The warrior grunted, his smile faded, replaced with a frown. He stood there, the sun to his back, but he cast no shadow over her. Anger, slowly rose up like an itch, impossible to ignore, gnawing at him until he began to tremble trying to contain it, something he wasn't particularly good at. He patted down his goatie, the sun caused sweat to pour down his muscled frame, the heat seemed especially intense as he stood waiting for her to say something. Finally, he took a breath and said, “If you entertain the notion of excludin’ us eternals and infinitars from your ... fancy meetin’s this time around ... you’d best find yourself a good place ta hide, cuz we ain’t puttin’ up wit it no more.”
The girl reached out her hand ever so slowly, and held it above the body of the butterfly as Thrax watched, infuriated that the girl was not at least a little shaken by the presence of the god of war. He waited for a response, but the girl simply stared at the butterfly, whole again, take flight and land on her hand.
Still not looking up, she said in a calm ethereal voice, “Do you know who your greatest enemy is Thrax?”
The god of war wanted to reach out and smack that butterfly between the palms of his hand -- and he was fast enough, but he didn’t move. She’d caught him off guard, and he tried to think of who she might be referring to. His enemies were too numerous to count. A god of war should have many enemies, he thought. Let them come!
When the girl did not answer immediately, his blood boiled and he cursed all the way across the meadow, stomping on as many flowers as he could along the way, like some rebellious brat.
“You,” she said finally looking up. Then she turned her attention to the butterfly again. After a few moments, she sighed and said, “Sometimes I envy you, little one. Sometimes I wish I could be just like you.” Lifting her hand skyward, she released the butterfly, which hovered for a moment before her, and then climbed toward the heavens. She sighed again and smiled. “Sometimes ...,” she repeated, suddenly looking much older than she had a moment before, and then vanished in a burst of light.
All Cosmothea PbP games are being moved to our own forums at QT Games, which you can find here: http://www.qt-games.com
Planet: Mawr Dobb Region: The Outskirts of Draegar
They'd been following him for two days - zombies - stiffs, the Draegaran's call them, tireless ... hundreds of them.
He'd been asked to escort a spice merchant across the desert, from the bustling coastal city of Mernoth to the frontier town of Keseryne in the north. Apparently the merchant had heard stories that had the aging draegaran spooked, for he already had a reasonably proficient gun mage on the payroll, in case of robbers or worse. But the merchant was scared, he'd heard stories about zombies that made his skin crawl. Yet the potential for expanding his business into the barely tapped spice trade with nearby Xorakistan, sounded too lucrative to pass up. So he turned to Jerymus for help.
"The stories are probably just that, Jerymus - meant to discourage new trade across the desert to minimize competition, but if they're right, I could use someone like you. Evil cannot be tolerated, and the dead walking among the living is a mockery. An abomination!"
Curious about a similar report he'd heard from a local priest, Jerymus, a young paladin of Theryn, with grand dreams, a good heart, and a keen blade, accepted the request and accompanied the merchant. He would not take payment, of course, as he considered it his duty to help those in need. He had met the merchant a few weeks before, and having healed the merchant's daughter from Scarrab Fever, had become friends. If there were zombies out there, they were a blight and needed to be removed. Slow, and mindless, how much of a challenge could they be?
One night, a couple hours after finishing his watch over the camp, Jerymus awoke to sounds of gunfire and screams. They were surrounded by zombies, and not six or a dozen, but well over a hundred, though Jerymus didn't stop to count. He later realized the gun mage must have fallen asleep at his post, for the merchant was dead, and the camp was thick with zombies. Though slow, they'd managed to dogpile on the terrified gun mage, who couldn't reload his enchanted bullets fast enough. The rest of the night was a blur, but Jerymus found himself in a canyon with no way out, and zombies coming ever closer.
Exhausted, his limbs heavy and sluggish, as if bags of spice were strapped to them, he was in no condition to continue the fight. He would take as many with him as he could, and prayed to Theryn for strength, and if it pleases the god of for a hedge of protection, that he could rest and continue the fight. He kept his distance, but was running out of canyon, and knew it was only a matter of time before they reached him.
Theryn wouldn't have even heard the prayer, being only an eternal, and his attention focused elsewhere, but a minion, the ever faithful Loswyn, the sharp-eyed keeper of the Mirror to Worlds, alerted him of the prayer. Theryn knew he could focus on any one of his paladins and thereby listen in to their prayers and answer them, but he had not the power to watch over all of his flock at once - that was the purview of greater gods than he, which made Loswyn's assistance all the more precious. Would he answer Jerymus, a lowly paladin of no great import, there being far more prominent followers no doubt in harm's way as well?
All Cosmothea PbP games are being moved to our own forums at QT Games, which you can find here: http://www.qt-games.com
Having located the hapless Jerymus, and ascertained himself of the dire situation this servant of his found himself in, Theryn mentally frowned. -”Is it just me, or is each and every cadaver in all of Draegar out to get at this man?” he muttered, throwing a quick glance at Loswyn, in case his own senses were betraying him. “So many living dead huddling together in so out-of-the-way a place is quite peculiar...”
Squinting, trying not to lose too much of his grip on the events elsewhere in the world where knights with his name on their lips were fighting for much more than their own lives, Theryn looked into the paladin called Jerymus, wishing to know who he would be saving. To his satisfaction, the young man looked resourceful enough to continue staying alive after Theryn had helped him climb the canyon wall and locate the runaway mount that grazed on the other side of the rock formation nearby – resourceful enough, too, Theryn hoped, to conduct a little investigation about the goings-on in that area, once he'd reach Keseryne...
”He is a precious stone. His eyes are priceless diamonds set in a perfect, smooth onyx. His hair is mythril, and his movements are flowing like mercury. If I possess him, I will be richer than I ever was. If I can claim him as my own...” -Pippa Dragonsdaughter-
Deep within the Shadow Realm, perched on one of the the balconies of the Fortress of Evisceration, Corax stood overlooking the moat of blood which surrounded his fortress. Thoughts swirled within him, some prayer requests from his followers, some clairvoyant images, and other thoughts not suitable for mortal comprehension.
He scanned the horizon of the Shadow Realm, then slowly turned and walked back into the Fortress. Wraiths and Revenants stood at attention as he walked past them, and he entered the throne room of his mighty keep. It was a huge room by human standards, and ornately decorated. The throne itself was made of solid platinum, and plush cushions and tapestries that hung on the wall were made of a mixture of the leather of fallen victims, velvet, and gold. Guarding the room were several skeletal warriors and Corax's personal favorite, a massive flesh golem he called 'Grimace'.
As he sat on his throne, he plotted his next move in a conspiracy of plots. Soon he would rise in power, and soon the blood of gods would fall.
The giant portcullis of the Fortress of Evisceration creaked and rose open, and Corax, the undisputed god of murder and execution, emerged. To each side of the great opening, were two enormous mutant spiders, hybrids of infernal sword spiders and abyssal phase spiders, standing guard. Corax loved the beasts, as there were no better hunters in all creation.
In front of Corax, drawn across the moat of blood, was a huge bridge made out of webs. Intertwined in the web were the corpses of countless victims, some so old that if you were to touch the bony remains they would turn to dust and blow away in the wind that so often was present in the Shadow Realm. So ancient was the bridge that it no longer had any stick to it, yet the slightest touch would still alert the spiders, much to the dismay of the unlucky perpetrators.
Corax lifted off the ground and began to slowly float in the air across the bridge. There was something of interest in the Shadow realm, and that something lay in the Cave of Souls. As he traveled there, he wondered if the anticipation he felt is similar to what mortal 'adventurers' feel when they foolishly enter a dungeon...
art by Pippa (I added red eyes I hope you don't mind )
Plane: Palidanea - the Infinite Plane of Light Region: Far from civilization - near the Vast Nothingness
Deleron had been following a helephant for 2 days across the great plane of Kelyth Anaryus. It had bothered a wandering holyphant briefly the first day, as the winged elephant had set down to rest in a pond before heading back to its home in the foothills of lower Palidanea. The helephant looked for a moment as if he might try to rough up the holyphant out of pure boredom, but the awkward flying elephant took flight and left the wingless helephant behind, without saying a word, though it was clearly shaken. The helephant was seemed annoyed and began thrashing at the ground one moment, then the next it was running again toward the border, it's path straight and unwavering.
Helephants, unpredictable, elephantine monstrosities created by Kane in an attempt to provide a tireless army, the Lords of Light could call upon in a moment's notice, ultimately proved unreliable and nearly untrainable. As warriors, however, they could give even the titans of Ysgard a run for their money. Deleron had no intention of winding up on the receiving end of the creature's deadly tusks. If he'd wanted to, the divine paladin could have caught up to the helephant by now, but he was curious as to why it seemed so single-minded in its flight across the great, grassy plains, and also wanted to study it more first - curious as to why Kane felt it might be redeemable when so many of its kind were not.
What made it different? If Mitra found out this one was running around loose in Palidanea, he knew she'd be more than a little upset. She had already expressed her dissatisfaction that Kane had made the helephant, Dozer, not only his bodyguard, but an Ascended as well. But this creature was not Dozer, and Deleron was worried that his lord might have been mistaken about this one, though it was true it hadn't killed anyone on the plane ... yet.
Unlike Kane's bodyguard, however, this helephant seemed mindless. He wasn't quite as nasty as the others of his race, but he wasn't an angel either. He'd been running full bore for 3 days as if he was on a mission of his own. As Deleron watched, the helephant came to an abrupt stop, as if it had struck an invisible wall. The border was near, but would not cause such a state, Deleron knew well.
Using his superior sight, he focused on the Helephant with feverish attention. The creature started pacing about, looking around and sniffing. It's muscles tensed. Then Deleron saw it, a tiny babe, lying there on the grassy plain - its skin milky white - it's eyes closed. The Helephant's eyes were wild, his posture signalling it was about to strike, raising up on his hind quarters before the child, it's massive, clawed limbs about to savage it no doubt. Deleron lifted his white sword, whispered a prayer and teleported beside the Helephant as Kane's folly slashed wildly with its claws and spiked tusks.
Deleron cried out, fear gripping him for the life of the child, but he had not seen it in time - what was really happening. His blade whipped neatly across the helephant's exposed rib cage, splattering blood everywhere. He hadn't known. His focus was on the babe and the helephant, and he hadn't seen the Jormunder beast, waiting there invisibly. The air crackled and for a moment, the Jormunder became visible as the helephant's tusks gored it. If Deleron had but blinked, he wouldn't have seen it, and his momentum had carried his blade - it was too late to stop the blow, though he had tried.
The helephant recoiled in pain, and Deleron felt it too, seeing his mistake. The white sword of Mitra, a gift she'd given him years ago before he'd sided with Kane, was a formidable weapon in the hands of a paladin. The helephant was protecting the child, though the paladin had no notion of why the child was there, how the helephant knew - if it even did, or why a Jormunder would dare risk entering the holy plane of light. An evil spawned in Gotha, a Jormunder was an army of one, a hellish creature of devastating stature and strength. Immediately, Deleron called out for Kane, his Lord, to save them, and surged forward, hoping to get between the beast and the babe, knowing he had not the strength to stop the Jormunder on his own.
All Cosmothea PbP games are being moved to our own forums at QT Games, which you can find here: http://www.qt-games.com
Kane A long white sword seems to tear a whole through the air. From this empty space a pure light, without colour, spills. Kane launches himself from this hole, with a cry of some holy words booming from within his helm. The words themselves are inaudible, but the intent is clear: you crossed Kane; now you pay.
Kane rushes up to the Jormunder, shielding the child, Helephant and Deleron with his glowing avatar.
He grins, although no one can see as his helmet covers his face. His white eyes glow at the foul being.
The creature's muscles tense, it's eyes locking in on Kane ... it shifts its weight, readying to attack, the ground rumbles beneath it's bulk. Standing at over 40' high, it seems not the least bit taken back by the sudden appearance of the god.
I'll add more to this post later, or do another post for the fight. Slammed at the moment. To see what this creature looks like, see the Art of Ascension page on my site. I should warn you that this thing is tough enough to give gods a hard time - these things are very tough, though Kane would know that while deadly, it couldn't take him down alone, at least not when he's anywhere near full strength as he is now. Still, it's very much a danger to anyone he cares about while on this plane.
Please see the updates to the Ascension page and pick divine talents. Later, once everyone gets used to how the divine rules work, I'll let players tweak their characters before we hit Chapter One.
All Cosmothea PbP games are being moved to our own forums at QT Games, which you can find here: http://www.qt-games.com
Theryn’s servant turned to his god and said, “It does seem highly unusual, my Lord. So many undead in one region of a mortal realm.” Loswyn looked back at the man, who was praying. Theryn could hear his prayers, sense his faith and gratitude, and resolve to uncover the mystery as well.
After a moment, Loswyn looked up at Theryn and said, “Of course such an environment or difficulty, as sad a state as it is ... well, is it not a perfect environment to change men’s hearts? Those who are happy, sitting idly on their porches with not a fret in the world have no need for gods - at least in their own understanding, but a community in trouble cry out to the gods. Out of pain can sometimes come the greatest victories. Look at what happened when Set began moving against the Legion of Good when they were but young pups, trying to find their way in the world. When beset by his legions, time after time, Lazaress, Argon, Fairwing and your father, Adgerin, found they could not rely on their own strength, but placed their trust in Mitra."
Loswyn smiled at Theryn, whom he respected and admired deeply. He hoped his god would not think he was acting too boldly or would be insulted that he, a lowly servant, would have words of wisdom his master could not fathom, for he knew that Theryn was wise. Yet even the wise need reminding and encouragement at times ...
"In that difficult time, they found greater strength and faith than they’d ever known. Set had unwittingly pushed them toward greater acts of good and sacrifice. Dare I say out of Set’s foul acts, sprung good deeds and good men. Perhaps the zombies here will result in a new crop of paladins praising you, my Lord, and doing great deeds in your name?”
All Cosmothea PbP games are being moved to our own forums at QT Games, which you can find here: http://www.qt-games.com
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