Unfettered by the bounds of space, Thaurg's consciousness gently drifted along the world's surface. He noticed the brewing conflict of the north; the wolf-god and some strange presence he had never fully been aware of up to now were struggling over the souls of the Canin, and a war was on the horizon. Not particularly interesting yet, but he would make sure to closely monitor it. Further in the east, the god his followers called Puck had created something akin to a living volcano, and capricious beings of fire and stone roamed the land there. Thaurg grinned - it would only be a matter of time before this Puck makes a damn nuisance of himself.
There were other changes, diversity slowly claiming the bleak wasteland that still covered a lot of the land. The stone was still brimming with potential, demanding to be changed, and the gods could do nothing but obey. Calling the power of the earth beneath him, Thaurg summoned forth life and flame. In the blink of an eye, the area was illuminated by a soft glow; ghostly trees sprouted leaves of pale green fire, draped in flickering vines. Shaping himself in the form of a panther, he descended down to admire his work. Burgundy flames shaped themselves into delicate flowers, burning fiercely, yet cool to the touch. Haunting phoenix song faded in and out of the still silence - letting his consciousness drift along the air, he shaped the wind to play an instrumental accompaniment through the undergrowth. Upon reaching the center of the grove, Thaurg wiped away some of the scenery to leave a vast clearing, burnmosses still clinging to crevices of exposed rock.
---
The Szi tribe was by far the most prolific amongst the Wandering Eyes; to a great degree this was due to being a conglomeration of smaller tribes an the foothills of the Daggerpeaks which have long since given up trying to determine where tribal boundaries begin and end. The annual contests were in full swing, and the caverns deep below the volcano boomed with noise. Deep in the heart of the volcano, a cathedral-like chamber stood silently, almost as if removed from the world. Its walls were hewn from pure obsidian, and lava cast everything within in a dim red glow. A lone, unremarkable Wandering Eye regarded Thaurg, who had yet to abandon his feline shape.
Yurg shifted impatiently. "Brevity would be appreciated, Burning-Eye. Karra of Szi and Url of Marrak are locked in a staring contest and the wagers are escalating faster than I can keep up." Thaurg grinned. Formality was still as alien to them as subservience, and if they were swayed at all by what he had to say it was because to them, he was more akin to a revered elder than a god. Nonetheless, he preferred to make his wishes known through his speaker Yurg; despite being rougher than a slab of granite, he has proven himself trustworthy both to the god and his people. "And which one would be the lidless one be?" Yurg feigned shock, but Thaurg could sense he was hiding a smile. "I'm sure you are missing a lot of excitement watching them stare at each other, so I shall be brief: A balance of power is beginning to form. Far on the eastern continent, the Whukal and Canin are preparing themselves for war, and the Merfolk and Zunna are conspiring towards unknown ends. I want a presence of Wandering Eyes close enough to interfere should the need arise." "'Interfere'? You know that warriors are rare among our kind, Burning-Eye. To face monsters that live and breathe death would be reckless at best." "You will adapt. You may have to resort to diplomacy or ingenuity rather than strength, but you will be ready when the time comes."
Yurg could hear the subtle change of tone towards the end, as encouragement bordered on threat. "If you feel it is right, then we will do so, but I need to know why we should involve ourselves." "Because the other races do not yet grasp how power works - they act as if it was chaotic, in the hands of those with the strength to take it. But power cannot be controlled - all we can do, mortal or otherwise, is provide pivots around which is flows and shifts. You understand better than any other race that to struggle for power is to squander it. That is why I want you there, for your sake as much as theirs - to be a pivot of power, a voice of reason."
He was about to retort when a grinding cacophony of cheers and laughter pierced the cavern walls. "Ah, I'm sure you do not want to miss the humiliations the Marrak have just won," Thaurg said, his toothy grin returning. "But before you go, I would like to leave you a small gift to share with your people." In a flash of flame, the eyeless jaguar vanished, and the lava lit up thousands of intricate carvings on the obsidian, outlining countless charts, instructions and maps. North-east of where the daggerpeaks were marked on one of the maps, a spot marked SYLSPYR shone like a star. The speaker ground his tusks together in resigned frustration, then made his way to the surface.
5 points to Shape Land in the center of the cape southeast of the western continent, creating a woodland of fire-plant hybrids; 4 points to Shape Climate, dampening all weather in the area, and having constantly shifting winds play an endless tune through the forest. 5 points to Advance Civilization, giving the Wandering Eyes unmatched knowledge of Navigation. Finally, spending the last 4 points to Command Race, having the Wandering Eyes build a city named Sylspyr in the center of the woodland.
The pirates grew in time, in their village that was cut off from the rest of the world by Orthuul's mighty works.
Their life spent on the sea and in the constant sun burnished their skin a dark ebony color to stand in stark contrast to their land-loving relatives. They developed fashions of loose clothing that breathed easily and allowed them to move dexterously about the decks of their ships.
Each ship was ruled by a captain, and when a ship was made, so too was a scarf of brown hair made to look like a lion's mane that would be handed down from captain to captain. These always included a small magical charm to cool the wearer enough that the mane would not afflict the captain with heat-stroke. During the early years, ship were nearly always owned by a single family of whom the oldest father among the cousins would be the captain.
Eventually, the form of selecting the captain of a ship would change to a contest. Any challenger would choose a form of contest to take to the captain, and the captain would be duty bound to accept as long as doing so did not put his crew in danger. This often took the form of a lifeboat race, or a game of mental skill such as Sail and Anchor. After the contest was completed, if the challenger won, it was up to the crew to decide if the contest had proven the challenger worthy of taking up the captain's mane. This vote needed to be unanimous, as changing captains should never be a decision made lightly. If the challenger lost the contest, he was not allowed to place another challenge until after the new year celebration.
As the pirates began to grow in power and their city began to develop, one of their captains declared they should choose a name for themselves that they would use as long as they agreed to act as a single nation. After many days of debates, feasts, and contests, the man who climbed the highest up the mountain chain suggested the name: "The White Gale of Orthuul." This name was accepted, but eventually shortened to "The Gale" or Gales.
----------------
The first ships that the Gale left the original humans behind were made of a rich dark wood. They were built with only three sails and imprecise rudders. Upon finding their new land, the Gale had found strange white trees that would float with perfect buoyancy. The wood was difficult to bend and cut besides, yet it was possible, and when ships were made with strips of this wood making up the hull, the resulting vessels were more resistant to damage. The Gales named this wood Ortock and prized it greatly.
insert paragraph about leader and family name + family possessions here
Named pirates the Gale(s). They discovered a tree that only grows by their city that's wood is perfect for boat construction (points?). Creating an Avatar, a bloodline of stronger Gales, the strongest of which is always the leader of his/her people.
Will be edited. My turn isn't done.
Private Mod Note
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Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
I'll bet you wish you had a non-unglued/unhinged card that shared your first name.
Puck seemed to be completely unaware of the attention on him. He's a little too focused on his own projects for the time being. Oddly, Puck seems to be looking into his own creations, his Elementals and the Lithefolk. There are forces around that the god doesn't want to be affecting his own. After all, the maximum fun has to build up. If his own creations were harmed, things would go wrong. He doesn't want things to go wrong.
First is an attempt to stop the wolves from attacking the elementals. The god has to worry about that. After all... They are rather close. So just beyond the realm of the Elementals, just north of the fertile lands, sand erupts. A band of desert, fiendishly hot and nearly devoid of life. Puck can't deny the random desert creatures that soon come out to play, those that can live in a desert that seems designed to kill on entry. A desert that the fire Elementals will love, that the rock Elementals will play in, that only the water Elementals will eschew. With that done, he moves on.
With the Elementals he creates an avatar. A creature that seems to be each of the elements rolled into one. A towering creature made of diamond, with visible veins of lava and water. His clothing is of wind, and every breath refreshes it. This avatar lives among the people as a revered creature. Not a god or a king, but a legend.
To the Elementals, this legend speaks. "This world is becoming dangerous for all of us. For every creature that walks or crawls. While there are some that are benign, many will seek to dominate. We must be a force to counter that. But rock shatters, fire can be doused, water can be dammed, and wind can be broken. So we must work with our minds, our words. We must be the verbal wall. Only be allying with everyone can we survive."
And so the Elementals become diplomats by nature.
Puck pulls back and watches each of the creatures in his care before vanishing. He must conserve power for later.
Creating a buffer desert north of the Volcano Jungle, between the Elementals and the wolves. This desert is set to be hot and arid, almost evil. Puck creates an avatar, Legend, among the Elementals, and commands it to advance them in Diplomacy.
"What is that, great-grandfather?" the young Canin asked quietly as she followed her father into the council room. Auqron smiled faintly. Chances are she didn't think he'd heard her.
"That is the god, Auqron, young one, who I have told you so much about," the grey haired Corhen croaked in answer to his great-granddaughter, equally hushed. Auqron liked Corhen. A member of the Canin alpha line, he had once been a massive creature, 11 feet tall, a mountain of muscle and fur and the primal strength of the Canin. Faster and stronger than even his brothers in the alpha line, there had been songs of his might written during his time. Though, today, he was over 700 years old, far more ancient than any other member of the race still alive, and he had shrunk from the 11' of his youth, to a scant 6'7", doubled over and leaning on a stout cane, with a long, hunched back. It was said that not even death could outfight him. His fur was silvery grey, lank and thin, his eyes milky white and blind.
When Corhen had first joined the council, he had been only 550 years old, and still at least 10' tall with some of the vigor of his youth. Auqron had been forced to ask how the other council members could have gotten such a prestigious member of the Canin race to join the council. It was too good to be true. It had been Cohren himself who had answered, as he said, "I am one of the strongest and the fastest Canin in the world, or so they tell me. Though, out of all my years, I've found that I like to hear stories more than I like to hunt, and one story, passed down through our race over the generations, stuck with me more than most. A story of a fish that chose the greatest Canin hunter, and appeared before him three times, leading the Canin on a chase through the forest of our people day and night. Each time, the fish evaded him, but the fish was testing him. The fourth time, the Canin recognized the fish, and did not give chase. That was when the fish revealed that it was no mere fish, and spoke it's name..."
"I remember it a little differently than that," Auqron interjected, truthfully. This got some laughs from the people in the room.
"Well the story often has different morals, depending on the version or the person telling it, but my favorite is that you shouldn't always be hunting. That is why I am here, god Auqron, to learn of when we are to not hunt." It had still taken Auqron some time and some tests before he had truly believed the Canin was true, but, now, he trusted him as much as the other members of the Council.
Back in the present time, Corhen shambled over to the Canin seat at the table, his hulking guards, one his son, staying by the door. The ancient Canin had wished to bring his great-grandaugher along for some time now. Today was the first time Auqron had agreed, and she took up a place to her ancestor's left, only coming up to his shoulder even when he was seated and she was standing. The other council members were already seated. In the Zunna seat was the middle aged, weathered Ternel, the High Scholar of the Church of Auqron of the Zunna, another in a long line of Zunna, direct descendant of the first mortal Auqron had ever spoken to. In the Merfolk seat, the relatively young Alkite, Mediator between the Merfolk Tribunals, still in her third age. Also, in the newest seat, the seat of the Terravoles, added just this day, the massive and coal-colored Ewnyn, beady eyes glancing about the room.
"Greetings, members of my Eye," Auqron began once everyone was settled, "Today we have a new seat filled: Ewnyn. Please, master Terravole, introduce yourself."
Ewnyn heaved himself out of his chair carefully. He was almost as large as the largest of Corhen's guards, yet for all his imposing size, he was still nervous, glancing around at the other faces before him. He was out of his element here: in the light, above ground. When he spoke, his voice was deep, yet squeaky at the same time, "I am Left Hand Ewnyn Helrke, of Clan Helrke, largest Clan of Terravoles in the holy mountains of Orthuul. Being the Left Hand of the Clan, I see many things, for I am to wander and to find. It is a daunting task for a Clan as large as Clan Helrke, but I command many names."
"A prestigious position, Ewnyn Helrke," Auqron said, glancing at the Merfolk and Zunna seats again. Had he underestimated their ability to find high-ranking individuals for the council that much? "You do know that nothing in this council can be carried back to the other members of your Clan? Not even it's existence or it's location?" Auqron asked the Terravole.
Ewnyn seemed a little surprised, "Uh, y-yes, holy god Auqron. You see, the Head and Right Hand of Clan Helrke have grown content, knowing they are the largest Clan in the mountains. They claim their eyes see far enough that they don't need a Left Hand anymore. They do not say it to my face, but it is my job to know things that I would not know, so I have found it. They keep me around because I am able to find these things, but still, they disregard my contributions. I wish to be appreciated, and while I will never do anything to harm my Clan for all the years I sit upon this council, if you seek to see what others fail to see, you have my allegiance, god Auqron."
Auqron considered the Terravole for a moment before bobbing his head in approval, "Okay, well, welcome then, Ewnyn Helrke, please take your seat," Auqron would need to test his loyalty some more, but, for now, that was acceptable, "Now then, down to business. Are there any immediately important things to speak of?"
Corhen raised his head, and spoke in his ancient roar, "The rage I told the council of before, god Auqron. It has increased greatly in the last few months. It feels as though something is coming... It's a desire to go out hunting, or to spar in the courtyard. Crowds have been forming a lot as of late in the training yards, everyone is eager to try their hand at hurting one another. Before, a Canin would get a scar once a month. Now, I've seen members of my own household gain twelve in a single day. They speak of a great hunt to come, a day to pay back the Whukal, the Jarawoe, and the Zunna," he nodded to Ternel, "...for a slight. Though I remember no slight so grave that we must be rabid. I say it's a madness gripping our people, and it will only bring blood and suffering to all. A Great Hunt should not be."
Auqron thought in silence, while the rest of the council debated the information. Notions flew back and forth. Ternel was interested in counteracting a Great Hunt, preventing the Canin from coming out for slaughter. Ewnyn wanted to watch and see what other information could be gleaned from their rage. Alkite wanted to know the origin of the rage. The god let them debate it for a long time, before he finally interjected.
"Young one, what is your name?" he asked Corhen's great-granddaughter.
The child looked up in surprise. She had been focused on the conversation for the better part of several hours, "Uh, Mansu, god Auqron."
"Tell me, Mansu, what do you think we should do?"
Mansu look about confused. Ewnyn and Alkite also seemed confused that the god was asking a child, but Ternel kept a straight face. After a while, she finally spoke, "Uh, well, this council is here to learn things for you, and we don't know much about what is going on with my people, why we're so angry. We shouldn't interfere directly, not until we have more information, less we take a false step and do more harm than good. I think we should try and find the slight our people are remembering, see if we can explain the rage."
Auqron smiled, "Exactly what I was thinking, Mansu. I see why you wanted to bring her along, Corhen, she's bright," that brought a smile to the ancient Canin's lips. "See that it is done, my Eye. Now, what other matters must we discuss."
The rest of the day was mostly routine. The Wandering Eyes had gained a great knowledge of navigation. The Pirates had been renamed the Gale. A forest of flames had appeared in the south, complete with a city within. A lithefolk caravan was traveling to Zlygoss. The forest of the Human's was spreading, as was the Mushroom Forest of the Whukal. The Elementals were becoming more verbose and wanting to discuss things and make peace. A skirmish between the Orthuulians and the Sun Worhippers had been fought in the Holy Mountains of Orthuul.
Lastly, the Merfolk Mediator brought forward information on a cave laboratory that had been set up during the evil age Adjun had inflicted upon the Merfolk, one that had only recently been discovered. It was very bleak and vile works in that cave, and no one knew how to dispose of it.
"Well, lack of knowledge on how to do something wont do, will it? Take the scraps you found in this cave and flesh it out more, make it into a full school of magic. Though, be careful not to let it corrupt you at the same time. Develop a parallel and opposite school of magic, balance it out. Make sure that no one loses perspective while they work on these things. If that's all, this meeting of the Eye is adjourned."
So it came to pass. The network of spies in the Canin grew and grew, yet evidence of the source of the rage still eluded the eye as they convened once a month. Meanwhile, two new magics were being added to the arsenal of the Merfolk. The two schools they developed, however, were far different than any they had before. Where Weather Control summoned the forces of nature, and Mysticism opened the eyes of the user to a new world, these called upon the strengths within the Merfolk themselves. Each different Merfolk used the school in a different way, but the effects were the same. The dark magic, it summoned tricks, darkness, illusions, fear, and blights. The light magic, the parallel made to keep the race in balance, it healed, created light, comfort, cures, and emotion.
This was not all, but the more one of these two schools were used, the more the user was changed as well. Where the average Merfolk was white with random red splotches, like a Koi fish, as they used the dark school, the white parts of the body faded to grey and then, the closer they got to mastery, pitch black, until they were shadows with random red splotches and cold eyes. On the other side, the more the light school was used, the red splotches slowly grew bronze, then, as one achieved greater control of the magic, bright yellow-gold, as their eyes grew brighter. Those who studied both, experienced both changes, turning to black shadows with golden splotches and focused eyes.
The Illusion and Healing schools of magic had been born.
Spending 1 point to command avatar to create an order in the Terravoles. Spending 5 points to advance the Merfolk with the Illusion tech, and then spending 5 points to advance the Merfolk with the Healing tech.
Spending 5 of my bonus points to spread the Orchard Forest of the Humans 1 inch. Writing that off as natural growth as well.
Ending with 1 normal point and 4 bonus points.
Canin (Church of Halapus, Church of Auqron, Garrison, Bloodwall, Blood Magic tech)
OOC: Roll of 6. Total: 9 power points, 18 terraforming points.
Halupus, his rage mitigated (but no less potent) by the passing of time, eyes Corhen's council with the Fish God curiously. Corhen was a great hunter, a warrior of legend, a very embodiment of the spirit of the Canin. What was he doing in his strange gathering of races? The Canin had no need to consort with these other beings. And yet... one of the greatest living Alpha Canin was here of his own free will. What was this? This odd council must be watched. In the meantime, there is work to do.
The Canin, long-lived as they are, experiment with Blood Magic in many ways. The Alphas are particularly skilled at mastering the skill. After years of experimentation, the Alpha Canin discover a potent secret indeed: Bloodsteel. By folding blood into the steel of weapons and armor and employing a Blood Ritual, the Canin learn to forge Bloodsteel: Armor stronger, lighter, and more flexible than any other known metal. Blades and axes that are razor sharp, unbreakable, and never lose their edge. This knowledge quickly spreads through the Canin civilization. The Canin will be ready for their Great Hunt, and soon. The twisted forests of the Mushroom Men will burn, and their god will be helpless to stop it.
But Halupus is still bothered by the Fish God's influence among the Canin. Auqron's meddling was of no true concern to Halupus, but he must be warned that his Canin were not to be subverted. And, as the bear will warn the fox to leave him to his dinner, so does Halupus deliver a warning to Auqron.
A secluded, small community of Merfolk live out their lives happily. They have broken from the main population of Merfolk and live isolated from them. A perfect place to make a statement. While Halupus does not particularly desire war with Auqron, his growing influence among the Canin must be repaid in kind. One night, as the full moon pierces into the depths of the ocean, these Merfolk change. Their bodies become grey, sleek, huge and dark and terrifying. Wicked teeth grown in their jaws as their mouths become tools of slaughter. The area around their small community fills with blood as they devour every nearby fish.
When sun dawns the next day, the Merfolk are once again themselves. Their shame and fear drives them further away from the other Merfolk. Halupus watches, pleased as this newest race is born.
And for the first time, the Cold God approaches one of his peers. Auqron percieves a huge white wolf before him. Even more shocking than Halupus making a physical appearence is what happens next: He speaks. A guttural voice fills Auqron's mind without the Wolf having actually spoken. The tone is guarded, though not hostile. "Your growing influence among my people is repaid in kind."
With a gust of cold win, Halupus is gone. There is still work to be done. The land must be shaped. This world is not populated enough. More sentient creatures must be brought into it. And they will need territory.
The undeveloped northeastern peninsula of the western continent shudders under Halupus' influence. Mountains, impossibly tall and barren of plant life rip their way up and up and up, until their peaks pierce through the clouds. From the edge of the jungle to the sea, the huge mountains form. Halupus watches, and ponders what he will put there.
Spend 5 points to Advance Canin Civilization with Bloodsteel.
Spend 4 points to Create Subrace of Merfolk: Weresharks.
Then spend 15 terraforming points to create 3 inches of colossal, barren mountains called the Spire Peaks on the northeastern peninusla of the western continent.
Points remaining: 0 power points
and
4 terraforming points
Everything scares me... kitties scare me... squirrels scare me... corpses....corpses bring forth a pletora of confusing feeling which i prefer not to dwell on...:p
Adjun rolls up his (metaphorical) sleeves and sees which parts of the world need his attention now. He knows that the Djo Empire has been growing larger in population, and that they would soon require more room to grow than they had at the moment. He grabs at the earth, sifting it through his shadowy fingers, twisting and shaping it to create new tunnels, caverns and caves that connect to those that the Dji call their home. To that end he grants the peninsula to the West of the current Djo lands to the Empire. [Shape land 1'', 5 points; 6/4 remaining]
As he is doing so he spies some odd-shaped beings gliding along the ocean to the East, the coast of the other continent. |What be these queer beings?| he asks himself deep within the cthonic realms of his mind. |A creation of another God? But they are so crude, savage, undeveloped! I must rectify this, and allow them to better serve themselves, as well as not be overtaken by the peoples of the land.| He floats above them, his ethereal form bobbing up and down in the still thrumming air as their pudgy bodies do likewise among the still waters while their sailwings beat the air behind them. He weasels his gnarled fingers into their minds, unlocking areas long ago forgotten. A rush of inspiration pours through those now cleared channels, and the Jarawoe of the pod in question begin to behave in a new, novel manner for members of their race; Though some resist this change, using their faith in Zuwn to steady them against the divine assault, others give into it, gaining a new perspective on life, as well as individual identities. They now lie, cheat, bend the truth and generally deceive. [Advance race in deception/trickery: 5 points, 2/4 remain]
|My of my, all this work is a bit tedious| Thinks the umbral deity to himself; |I believe these lands need a little bit of stirring up.| Txalavar, at the behest of his master and creator, sets down to the city of Syslpyr, in the wispy, innocuous guise of a calm shadow drifting over the area. He coordinates his psychological strike with Adjun's more concrete one. As the lands surrounding the forest become bitterly, chilled (forcing the Syslpyrians to huddle in the warmth of the forest lest they die of exposure in the cruel chill of the ring of ice surrounding them) Txalavar fills their heads with thoughts of isolation, paranoia, claustrophobia, entrapment; so that the cityfolk become jaded, and vicious in their treatment of members of other races, as well as members of their own. [Shape climate 1'' for 4; command avatar {to Corrupt Syslpyr} for 1; 1/0 remain.]
Deep in the heart of the frozen woodlands, two wolves regarded each other warily. His hunt interrupted by the pitch-black impostor, Halupus' ire manifested in a savage, biting blizzard. The other wolf did not seem at all fazed by the cold god's presense, enraging him further; snow hissed and steam danced as fire and ice struggled between them.
"What do you want?" The white wolf's voice howled in the storm. He could sense the other wolf was also a divine being, although different from any he had sensed before. There were enough gods meddling as it is.
Thaurg's thundering voice pierced through the gale. "I come proposing an alliance. The dark twin's presence is becoming ever more intrusive, and the few that aware of his spreading influence lack the will to retaliate."
"The Canin need no help," Halupus snapped. "The Whukal stand no chance against the great hunters. Now leave!"
The other god stood his ground. "And after your hunt? Do you think Adjun will back down after you have slaughtered his servants?"
"He would be smart to. From now, he will pay for every intrusion with blood, as will you all."
"Then you will be locked in conflict forever. Do not forget that our influence on this world is limited, Halupus - just as you cannot destroy him entirely, so can he not challenge two of us at once. Just as you seek revenge, I seek to remind him of this, and humble him in front of the others."
The cold god remained silent.
"Consider my offer carefully. For now, it still stands." With that, Thaurg vanished into the forest, leaving behind nothing but a set of steaming pawprints and a faint smell of ozone.
-----
Further south, two elementals emerged from their native jungle. First to step onto the Great Lake's shore was a large dust elemental, hacking through the unruly tangle with an amethyst machete. He scanned the area around him carefully - disturbing reports have recently come from the lake, and the vast maze of floating spires provided perfect cover for an ambush. "I still think this is a bad idea, Maltea", he muttered as his companion, a female water elemental, joined him on the shore. "We don't know what's driving us away from the lake. We don't know why. And even if they could understand you - "
"I understand your concerns, Cronu." Maltea interrupted him. "And by now you should understand mine too."
Cronu sighed. They have been arguing about visiting the Great Lake for two weeks now, and although he felt uneasy letting a friend walk into danger alone, he was getting tired of it. "Alright, but be careful." He hesitated for a moment. "I'll wait for you here." She couldn't blame him - dust elementals had a mortal fear of water; it not only destroyed their form but trapped their medium, damning them to an eternity of helplessness.
The water elemental smiled at him. "I will. Thanks for coming this far with me." Without a further word, she stepped into the cool water.
Cronu just sat down on the gravelly beach when a serpentine creature erupted out of the water. A pair of enormous, leathery wings lay folded on its back, and despite towering over both of them, its body was sleek, built for agility rather than strength. Landing on a nearby rock, it janked a trout from its bone spear and stashed it in a leather pouch. Cronu and Maltea stood frozen - the strange being's concentration was heavily invested in the water below, and it had failed to notice them. Maltea looked back at Cronu briefly before cautiously approaching, ignoring his panicked looks. When she stood just two feet behind the winged serpent, Maltea began to speak; startled, it whipped its spear around with enough force to send her barreling through the lake's surface. For a moment, she lay stunned in the water, but its cool embrace calmed her down. Once she had regained her composure, she surfaced again. The creature was visibly shaken by the intrusion, its spear firmly trained on her but its stance hinting at flight rather than agression.
"Water demons are to be kept from these waters", he (or so Maltea assumed) rasped. His emerald eyes darted between her and Cronu, who was screaming something in the distance.
"We are not demons. We are Elementals, and are of no threat to you. The Great Lake's water has long been a source of life for those of us who chose water as their medium, and I simply wish to know why we are being denied access to it."
The creature hesitated, lowering his hunting spear but still suspicious. "These are Drake fishing grounds", he replied. "Our entire race depends on the lake's bounty for sustenance. We must protect it from any outside influences."
"I respect your kind's needs, but - " she paused for a moment. "What is your name, Drake?"
"...Pirrym", he answered reservedly.
"A pleasure to meet you Pirrym. Mine is Maltea." The Drake bowed his head slightly in recognition, not taking his eyes off her. "I understand why you are protective of your territory, but the Great Lake is of great importance to us too. Surely we can accomodate for each other."
Pirrym pondered this statement, occasionally hissing to himself. "Flesh without flesh..." Without warning, he shot a cliff face hanging above them. He beckoned to Maltea before she could begin to protest, and she scrambled up the porous rock behind him.
---
As the two ascended the floating mountains, Maltea began to notice a change in scenery. Tough grasses clung to the precarious ledges, and further up strange trees grew from every crevice, even underneath overhangs. Pirrym leaped between cliffs with effortless grace, spiraling through the air in a gravity-defying dance; Maltea only barely kept his pace, occasionally resorting to distorting her limbs for the larger gaps. Waterfalls dotted the larger mountains and blanketed the area in a fine mist; the moisture kept her invigorated, but even so she was tiring quickly. Not that she had a choice - she would never find her own way down, and one misstep meant a straight drop into nothingness. "Where are we going?" She was caught off-guard by the unexpected journey, and it hadn't occurred to her until now she had no idea why she was being led into the mountains. Her guide paused, turning to face her for the first time since the left. "I cannot speak for our kind", he replied, "but the Gilded can."
It was already past midday when the first signs of others became evident. At first, crude bridges of flax and leather spanned the larger canyons; the further they climbed, the more common and well-built they became. Carved trails and whale-bone bridges converged into roads, along which they encountered the occasional Drake. They looked at the elemental with perplexion and disbelief rather than the fear or hostility she expected, but otherwise did not break their stride. As the two passed through smaller townships, Maltea noticed how life amongst the Drakes seemed to flow seamlessly - not once had she seen one waiting or resting. There was also a subtle change in the Drakes themselves in the high villages - their skin turned from a dark green hue to a reddish-brown, and their lithe snake-like bodies became more heavily built.
After several hours of ascent, the pinnacle was in sight. Pirrym instructed Maltea to wait outside an enormous archway carved into the mountain, then vanished into the cavern. Grateful for the brief repose, she took some time to soak in the landscape. Countless spires drifted lazily beneath them, and yet larger ones towered far above the one they had just scaled. Although the mist hid away most of the lake beneath, the sky was clear enough that she could see the western continent peeking over the horizon ahead. To her right, the desert that isolated the elementals from the hostile north glittered in the sun - the golden sand seemed to have spread quickly, blanketing a small mountain chain between the two smaller lakes.
Finally, Pirrym emerged from the arch. "Lazak is the Gilded of this spire," he motioned towards the entrance. "I have told him everything you have told me. He will speak to you, then I will guide you back to the lake."
Maltea smiled in return. "I know you still don't trust me, but you gave me this change nonetheless. No matter what the outcome, I am grateful for that."
"It is our code." The Drake's tone had the slightest undertones of indignation. Without further words, he ushered her in.
---
Maltea found herself in a large, circular room. Contrary to her expectations, the interior was as bright as day - rays of light pierced through holes in the walls, and the sun softly shone through a mat of thin leather spanned over the ceiling. The room itself was unbearably hot, and could easily accomodate a large hut within its walls. Crude wooden shelves laden with various pottery, leather tomes and trinkets towered far above her reach, but even the grand proportions of the room seemed huddled in the presence of the Drake standing in front of her. His deep gold scales seemed to give off a glow of their own, as did his ruby eyes. His heavy frame only hinted at the snake-like grace he once possessed, and even at full height Maltea only barely stood over his thighs. He bowed deeply, letting his wings spread over the entire room, then crouched to level with her face. "We are not here to negotiate," Lazak's voice rumbled. "Not today anyway. Today we talk. you will learn of Drakes, and I of Elementals."
For hours, the two discussed everything they could think of. Lazak seemed especially intrigued in the Medium, how they inhabited bodies of all the world's elements yet still saw each other in the same way. "Flesh without flesh, soul without heart", he mused. "It is something our people have never been able to accept as natural. That aside, we may have in more common than you believe; we do not measure lifespan by age, but rather by element. Our hatchlings are earthbound for many years, and are as such associated with stone. As they mature, they gain the strength to use their wings. At this age, they are associated with water - adept lake hunters, still lacking the stamina to fly long distances, but much nimbler than their elders. The third, and by far the longest, age is that of the air. It is only then that they are truly considered adult; to prove themselves worthy of the skies, they must set on a great journey on wing." He paused for a while, lost in thought.
"I presume your skin color marks these ages some how," Maltea was reminded of the different kinds of Drakes she saw on her ascent. "Green for earth, Brown for water, Red for air, correct?"
"Well observed", Lazak answered distantly.
"And golden scales for the fourth age? The age of fire?" Maltea prompted.
"The age of flame, yes." His attention suddenly returned to her. "The last age begins on the day we breathe our first flame. Every day after that, we grow larger, stronger, and the flame burns more fiercely inside us - until we are consumed by that very flame." The ancient drake gingerly extracted a package from a shelf. He stripped away the blackened leather to reveal a delicate, tear-shaped shale slab; conjuring a single plume of flame from his jaws, impossibly delicate carvings flared up from the stone. As the stone cooled, the patterns shifted across its surface, then faded away entirely. "When we enter the age of flame, we are taken to the Sun Codex for the first time. It is our sacred wellspring of knowledge, a flower of stone we hope will one day open. Its petals are etched with divine messages from which we have built our laws - most petals dance like this at the sun's touch, but there is one for every Drake that visits, one that will only reveal its messages to his breath."
They talked a while longer, but the light was beginning to dim. With a pang of guilt, Maltea remembered she had promised Cronu to be back before nightfall. "Apologies, Lazak, but I am keeping a friend waiting. Thank you for gracing me with your time."
"And thank you for humoring me." Lazak pulled himself to his full height. "I'm certain this session was as enlightening to you as it was for me. I will speak to the others on your behalf - in the meantime, do not hesitate to return."
"Until next time then." With a smile, Maltea bowed and left.
Expect major revisions, but at least something's up for now.
6 points to Create Race, populating the floating mountains with Drakes, then 3 points to Purify Race on the Drakes. Using 9 points to Shape Land and Climate, extending the desert north of the elemental jungle west one inch and raising a small chain of sandstone mountains within it, then matching the desert's climate.
Orthuul shudders a moment. Something has changed. A fog clouds his vision of this world he has been so carefully manipulating. Something has changed. He ascends away from the world, looking down at it. Something has changed. There is a storm brewing, one that will force the weak to die or become strong. Something must change. He moves towards the mountains he had so carefully crafted. The north is full of dense jungle, the south remains untouched. He drives the river feeding Puck’s canyon underground, then with a deafening roar, burns the land until it glows, letting it slowly cool to a mirrorlike surface of volcanic glass. He then bends the climate, making this mirror ground a land with little moisture, harsh winds, and rapid changes in temperature. Without the warmth of the ground below the nights threaten to freeze travelers, and without shade from clouds above the land seems almost like an oven. Those that wish to brave challenge will do so through other paths.
He turns to the seafarers who he finds himself favouring. He guides them to find minerals laced in the mountains themselves. Their retrieval is perilous but their reward vast. They find themselves armed with the tools to take down great beasts and sink vessels that would do them harm. Whether or not they trade this newfound technology well becomes another matter to concern himself with. He entrusts this task to a newly founded order of captains. The Armada will handle their merchant agreements, their treaties, and what military plans they will undoubtedly need to make to face the coming storm.
I have changed.
At the last of his preparations, he finds himself exhausted, and accompanied by a whispy, shadowy raven perched on his shoulder, ever in the corner of his eye but never truly in focus. An omen? Perhaps.
Actions:
(terraform points)
3x Shape land 1” - southern border of mountains on east continent not to interfere with canyon, glass the surface- resulting in a more or less obsidian surface. This should be down to bedrock. Any rivers should be able to pass under it unharmed.
3x Shape Climate 1” - dry, windy, harsh, and extremely varied climate over the glass shelf. Nights are frigid and unforgiving, days are fit to burn those who tread upon its surface.
(Regular points)
Event: Rich ferrous deposits found in Pirate cove. (7)
Advance City, Pirate City: Steelwork. (5)
Advance City, Pirate City: Ironclad Ships (5)
Advance City, Pirate City: Black Powder weaponry (5)
Create Order: Order of the Armada in Pirate City(6)
Apologies for the delay in postage, my computer died and I had to make a chance to get to the library to post. This is also the reason for the brevity of this post (and any spelling mistakes)
"I feel the world is growing restless, Lord Auqron," the milky-eyed Ewnyn said from his seat on the council. He'd been around a long time, so far, but, while he had proved valuable many times, Auqron still didn't trust him. He was simply too invested in the matters Terravoles.
The Eye was very different than it had been a century and a half before. A new Mediator of the Merfolk Tribunals, Mellisna. A new High Scholar of the Church of Auqron, Netu. Corhen was long dead, his still young granddaughter, the clever Mansu, taking his place. Only Ewnyn remained of the council seat that were when he had joined the Eye, and he was on his way out. Meanwhile, Auqron was as boisterous and child-curious as he had been when time began. Suppose that was just the nature of being a god.
"It's true, we've all felt it," added Mellisna, "What with the Weresharks adding to the troubles we've all faced, and the smouldering turmoil spawning from the Canin, the world is calling for motion."
"I know, the thing that gets me is that we don't know why. This group, my Eye. A council made for the purpose of gaining all information, can only seem to tell me the stuff that I could find myself," the god snapped. He was a little frustrated with their meager progress over the years, and it was beginning to show.
Netu and Mellisna both shrank from the words, but Mansu looked up, "It's not as simple as all that, Fish God." Mansu was a remarkable youth, full of the ferocity of her race, the pride her station in her own society afforded, yet both tempered by her steady hand and thoughtfulness. Auqron believed she would make a mighty leader for her race, eventually, "We are only so many, our influence does not spread far enough for us to truly get the whole image. We need to grow, faster."
Netu spoke, a thought crossing his mind, "Perhaps the Gale would be a good candidate to have join us. They travel far and wide across the world, and we've been using them for one of our main sources of information already. If we could perhaps persuade a member of their armada to take a seat in secret, we'd be able to get a more rounded look at the information."
Mellisna shook her head, "No, we already have been making use of the Gale information lines. We will be able to continue making use of them in the future, and us Merfolk can travel as far and wide as they do. The Elementals, they're right in the heart of the turmoil on the eastern continent, and word has it that they have many friends. This is a potential resource we have yet to tap. We should try and persuade one of their officials to take a seat on your Eye, Lord Auqron."
"Hmmm, you all three raise good points. Though, I feel I agree most with Mellisna. Create a seat upon the council for the Elementals, acquire as high ranking of an individual as you can manage. Also, if the Gale are already as vital to the Eye as you say, we should go ahead and provide them with a seat. Elementals first, though."
"It will be done, God Auqron," Ewnyn squeaked as he leaned forward, "Now, there are some mobilizations of the sun worshippers I'd like the discuss..."
Auqron narrowed his eyes. Ewnyn truly was too preoccupied with the Terravoles
Halapus's little stunt with the Weresharks had not gone unnoticed by the fish god, however. It had boiled him, though, instead of pushing back and meddling even more in the Canin affairs, he had centered his power upon the Merfolk even more. He thought it strange, actually. The wolf god had said that his influence in the Merfolk was growing, yet he had simply made a new race, related to the Merfolk, for sure, but his control over actual Merfolk was the same as always. Still, if he wanted to have influence over his children, he had sent out a taunt, Let us see who holds more influence over my people, wolf god.
Even now, a great Mefolk metropolis was being erected upon the shores of the island where Auqron had first influenced the fabric of the world, a vast expanse of it extending underwater, great manses and villas carved out of the undersea canyons and coral reefs themselves, and an impressive portion of it rising up into the canopy of the jungle on the island, with houses carved out of the trees, artificial rivers and waterfalls spreading out everywhere. Though, everywhere, above the water and below it, libraries stood. Great stone structures containing kelp scrolls and stone tablets, the nobility even had their own libraries as part of their homes. This would be the Great City of Memories, Kellias.
Not only this, but yet a new magic had been gifted to the Merfolk, the magic of shields and resistance. A magic born of the coupled studying of bloodsteel and the Merfolk's own school of Healing Magic. A magic that would be come to known as "Warding Magic".
Spending 1 point to command avatar to create an order in the Elementals. Spending 5 points to advance the Merfolk with the Warding tech and 4 points to command the Merfolk to found the city of Kellias.
Spending 10 of my bonus points to spread the Orchard Forest of the Humans 2 inches south. Writing that off as natural growth as well.
Ending with 1 normal point and 3 bonus points.
No Map this time, computer has died and the library computers lack Paint. Try to keep track of stuff in your own head until I can post a map.
Canin (Church of Halapus, Church of Auqron, Garrison, Bloodwall, Blood Magic tech, Bloodsteel tech)
Drakes (Church of Thaurg, Alignment +2)
Elementals (Church of Puck, Church of Auqron, Crystal Cultivation tech, Diplomacy tech, Alignment +1)
Humans (No God, Silver Weaponry tech)
Gale (Church of Orthuul, The Armada, Shipbuilding tech, Steelwork tech, Ironclad Ships tech, Black Powder Weaponry tech, Pirate City)
Werewolves (Church of Halapus)
Lithefolk (Church of Puck, Dancing Communication tech)
Merfolk (Church of Auqron, Kellias, Weather Control tech, Mysticism tech, Illusion tech, Healing tech, Warding tech)
Weresharks (Church of Halapus)
Jarawoe (Church of Zuwn, Trickery tech)
Whukal (Church of Adjun, Alignment -2)
Terravoles (Church of Orthuul, Church of Puck, Church of Auqron)
Roll of 9. Power points: 9
Terraforming points: 13
Halupus eyes his Spire Peaks with satisfaction. But what to put there? A race of hunters, to be sure, but what shape should they have. As he ponders this question, Halupus eventually decides he must search the world for a creature worthy of his colossal mountains. While tracking a group of Alpha Canin on a forest hunt, Halupus finds what he's looking for. The Canin roar with satifaction as they hurl their Bloodsteel spears at a mammoth, bringing the great creature down. The awesome noise of the Canin hunting cries drives a small flock of birds from their roosts.
Suddenly, almost too fast to be seen, a blur of grey and silver feathers drops like a stone from above. The flock never even realizes what happened until the falcon has already landed on the ground with its captured prey. The Alpha Canin watch the bird of prey take its meal, and their expression is one of amused respect. Successful hunters, no matter what sort of creature they may be, are always left to enjoy their spoils.
And Halupus has found his predator. Any creature his Canin respect must be worthy indeed. His new mountain dwelling race will rule the skies.
Halupus concentrates his power, and the Raptorans are born. Called the Spire Falcons by the other races, the giant birds are similar in size to the Canin, and as swift as their smaller cousins. Their feathers are usually some mixture of white, black, silver, steel, and blue-grey. They are sentient and extraordinarily intelligent to make up for their lack of opposable thumbs. The males and females, unlike most birds of prey, are similar in size. The only way to tell males from females is the slightly different shape of the wings, something only the Raptorans generally notice. Like all falcons, they have extremely sharp eyes and ears, with a very weak sense of smell.
As an avian beak and throat are unsuited to speaking, Halupus makes them capable of telepathic communication. It's not the same as speech. Words don't form in their mind to be projected outwards. Instead they broadcast a massively complex series of emotions and feelings to "speak". They can only send these emotions outward, not recieve them from other species. Fortunately, their impressive intellects allow them to quickly learn languages and adapt their empathy-speech for other species to understand.
Their natural empathy and brilliance makes these creatures somewhat more benevolent than Halupus originally intended, though the Wolf is not unsatisfied with the results. His falcons are noble creatures, not as twisted as the Mushroom Men or as primal as the Canin.
Now they need a way to take advantage of their natural speed. Halupus manipulates the wind currents around the Spire Peaks. The winds every direction around the bottoms of the mountains are drawn in and upward along the mountain's sides. At the top of the Peaks, the drawn-in winds flow outwards, creating powerful updrafts and air currents for the Raptorans to take advantage of. This accomplishes two things at once: Raptorans near the top of the Peaks can soar outward on the air currents with little effort. Raptorans returning to the Spires can use the upflowing air to soar back up to the top without too much energy expended.
Spending 6 points to create the Raptoran race, then 3 points to Purify Civilization the Raptorans.
Spending 12 terraforming points to manipulate the air currents around the Spire Peaks in the way described above. Think of the general shape as a mushroom cloud: Air flows in and up from the lower levels of the mountains and flows outward at the top.
Everything scares me... kitties scare me... squirrels scare me... corpses....corpses bring forth a pletora of confusing feeling which i prefer not to dwell on...:p
Something has been amiss in the world lately. From the perspective of its inhabitants, life continued as usual, but the gods have become quiet. They still make their presence felt, but only in subtle ways, leaving little to no mark of their passing. They still wielded tremendous power, but it was slowly fading like a dying ember. Mustering what power he could, Thaurg stripped away the soil and bedrock of the world until only a hole into the earth's blazing heart remained. In a tremendous blast of heat, power surged into the world again - hopefully enough to breathe life back into it.
5 points to Shape Terrain and 8 to double Climate in the large area south of the floating mountains. A giant abyss going all the way down. A network of scoria bridges criss-cross along it, become sparser and more fragile the further down you go. Hot air creates powerful updrafts in the area and sucks in colder air from the surrounding area, creating violent gales that pull almost everything towards the pit. Hurricanes are an almost daily occurrence.
Unfettered by the bounds of space, Thaurg's consciousness gently drifted along the world's surface. He noticed the brewing conflict of the north; the wolf-god and some strange presence he had never fully been aware of up to now were struggling over the souls of the Canin, and a war was on the horizon. Not particularly interesting yet, but he would make sure to closely monitor it. Further in the east, the god his followers called Puck had created something akin to a living volcano, and capricious beings of fire and stone roamed the land there. Thaurg grinned - it would only be a matter of time before this Puck makes a damn nuisance of himself.
There were other changes, diversity slowly claiming the bleak wasteland that still covered a lot of the land. The stone was still brimming with potential, demanding to be changed, and the gods could do nothing but obey. Calling the power of the earth beneath him, Thaurg summoned forth life and flame. In the blink of an eye, the area was illuminated by a soft glow; ghostly trees sprouted leaves of pale green fire, draped in flickering vines. Shaping himself in the form of a panther, he descended down to admire his work. Burgundy flames shaped themselves into delicate flowers, burning fiercely, yet cool to the touch. Haunting phoenix song faded in and out of the still silence - letting his consciousness drift along the air, he shaped the wind to play an instrumental accompaniment through the undergrowth. Upon reaching the center of the grove, Thaurg wiped away some of the scenery to leave a vast clearing, burnmosses still clinging to crevices of exposed rock.
---
The Szi tribe was by far the most prolific amongst the Wandering Eyes; to a great degree this was due to being a conglomeration of smaller tribes an the foothills of the Daggerpeaks which have long since given up trying to determine where tribal boundaries begin and end. The annual contests were in full swing, and the caverns deep below the volcano boomed with noise. Deep in the heart of the volcano, a cathedral-like chamber stood silently, almost as if removed from the world. Its walls were hewn from pure obsidian, and lava cast everything within in a dim red glow. A lone, unremarkable Wandering Eye regarded Thaurg, who had yet to abandon his feline shape.
Yurg shifted impatiently. "Brevity would be appreciated, Burning-Eye. Karra of Szi and Url of Marrak are locked in a staring contest and the wagers are escalating faster than I can keep up." Thaurg grinned. Formality was still as alien to them as subservience, and if they were swayed at all by what he had to say it was because to them, he was more akin to a revered elder than a god. Nonetheless, he preferred to make his wishes known through his speaker Yurg; despite being rougher than a slab of granite, he has proven himself trustworthy both to the god and his people. "And which one would be the lidless one be?" Yurg feigned shock, but Thaurg could sense he was hiding a smile.
"I'm sure you are missing a lot of excitement watching them stare at each other, so I shall be brief: A balance of power is beginning to form. Far on the eastern continent, the Whukal and Canin are preparing themselves for war, and the Merfolk and Zunna are conspiring towards unknown ends. I want a presence of Wandering Eyes close enough to interfere should the need arise."
"'Interfere'? You know that warriors are rare among our kind, Burning-Eye. To face monsters that live and breathe death would be reckless at best."
"You will adapt. You may have to resort to diplomacy or ingenuity rather than strength, but you will be ready when the time comes."
Yurg could hear the subtle change of tone towards the end, as encouragement bordered on threat.
"If you feel it is right, then we will do so, but I need to know why we should involve ourselves."
"Because the other races do not yet grasp how power works - they act as if it was chaotic, in the hands of those with the strength to take it. But power cannot be controlled - all we can do, mortal or otherwise, is provide pivots around which is flows and shifts. You understand better than any other race that to struggle for power is to squander it. That is why I want you there, for your sake as much as theirs - to be a pivot of power, a voice of reason."
He was about to retort when a grinding cacophony of cheers and laughter pierced the cavern walls. "Ah, I'm sure you do not want to miss the humiliations the Marrak have just won," Thaurg said, his toothy grin returning. "But before you go, I would like to leave you a small gift to share with your people." In a flash of flame, the eyeless jaguar vanished, and the lava lit up thousands of intricate carvings on the obsidian, outlining countless charts, instructions and maps. North-east of where the daggerpeaks were marked on one of the maps, a spot marked SYLSPYR shone like a star. The speaker ground his tusks together in resigned frustration, then made his way to the surface.
5 points to Shape Land in the center of the cape southeast of the western continent, creating a woodland of fire-plant hybrids; 4 points to Shape Climate, dampening all weather in the area, and having constantly shifting winds play an endless tune through the forest. 5 points to Advance Civilization, giving the Wandering Eyes unmatched knowledge of Navigation. Finally, spending the last 4 points to Command Race, having the Wandering Eyes build a city named Sylspyr in the center of the woodland.
[Clan Flamingo] Tier Archivist
[15:21] <@CC> Remember, if you argue, you are an idiot.
Untrophied Wins:
Perfect MCC Scores: 2
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The pirates grew in time, in their village that was cut off from the rest of the world by Orthuul's mighty works.
Their life spent on the sea and in the constant sun burnished their skin a dark ebony color to stand in stark contrast to their land-loving relatives. They developed fashions of loose clothing that breathed easily and allowed them to move dexterously about the decks of their ships.
Each ship was ruled by a captain, and when a ship was made, so too was a scarf of brown hair made to look like a lion's mane that would be handed down from captain to captain. These always included a small magical charm to cool the wearer enough that the mane would not afflict the captain with heat-stroke. During the early years, ship were nearly always owned by a single family of whom the oldest father among the cousins would be the captain.
Eventually, the form of selecting the captain of a ship would change to a contest. Any challenger would choose a form of contest to take to the captain, and the captain would be duty bound to accept as long as doing so did not put his crew in danger. This often took the form of a lifeboat race, or a game of mental skill such as Sail and Anchor. After the contest was completed, if the challenger won, it was up to the crew to decide if the contest had proven the challenger worthy of taking up the captain's mane. This vote needed to be unanimous, as changing captains should never be a decision made lightly. If the challenger lost the contest, he was not allowed to place another challenge until after the new year celebration.
As the pirates began to grow in power and their city began to develop, one of their captains declared they should choose a name for themselves that they would use as long as they agreed to act as a single nation. After many days of debates, feasts, and contests, the man who climbed the highest up the mountain chain suggested the name: "The White Gale of Orthuul." This name was accepted, but eventually shortened to "The Gale" or Gales.
----------------
The first ships that the Gale left the original humans behind were made of a rich dark wood. They were built with only three sails and imprecise rudders. Upon finding their new land, the Gale had found strange white trees that would float with perfect buoyancy. The wood was difficult to bend and cut besides, yet it was possible, and when ships were made with strips of this wood making up the hull, the resulting vessels were more resistant to damage. The Gales named this wood Ortock and prized it greatly.
insert paragraph about leader and family name + family possessions here
Will be edited. My turn isn't done.
Puck seemed to be completely unaware of the attention on him. He's a little too focused on his own projects for the time being. Oddly, Puck seems to be looking into his own creations, his Elementals and the Lithefolk. There are forces around that the god doesn't want to be affecting his own. After all, the maximum fun has to build up. If his own creations were harmed, things would go wrong. He doesn't want things to go wrong.
First is an attempt to stop the wolves from attacking the elementals. The god has to worry about that. After all... They are rather close. So just beyond the realm of the Elementals, just north of the fertile lands, sand erupts. A band of desert, fiendishly hot and nearly devoid of life. Puck can't deny the random desert creatures that soon come out to play, those that can live in a desert that seems designed to kill on entry. A desert that the fire Elementals will love, that the rock Elementals will play in, that only the water Elementals will eschew. With that done, he moves on.
With the Elementals he creates an avatar. A creature that seems to be each of the elements rolled into one. A towering creature made of diamond, with visible veins of lava and water. His clothing is of wind, and every breath refreshes it. This avatar lives among the people as a revered creature. Not a god or a king, but a legend.
To the Elementals, this legend speaks. "This world is becoming dangerous for all of us. For every creature that walks or crawls. While there are some that are benign, many will seek to dominate. We must be a force to counter that. But rock shatters, fire can be doused, water can be dammed, and wind can be broken. So we must work with our minds, our words. We must be the verbal wall. Only be allying with everyone can we survive."
And so the Elementals become diplomats by nature.
Puck pulls back and watches each of the creatures in his care before vanishing. He must conserve power for later.
1 point remaining.
My helpdesk should you need me.
"What is that, great-grandfather?" the young Canin asked quietly as she followed her father into the council room. Auqron smiled faintly. Chances are she didn't think he'd heard her.
"That is the god, Auqron, young one, who I have told you so much about," the grey haired Corhen croaked in answer to his great-granddaughter, equally hushed. Auqron liked Corhen. A member of the Canin alpha line, he had once been a massive creature, 11 feet tall, a mountain of muscle and fur and the primal strength of the Canin. Faster and stronger than even his brothers in the alpha line, there had been songs of his might written during his time. Though, today, he was over 700 years old, far more ancient than any other member of the race still alive, and he had shrunk from the 11' of his youth, to a scant 6'7", doubled over and leaning on a stout cane, with a long, hunched back. It was said that not even death could outfight him. His fur was silvery grey, lank and thin, his eyes milky white and blind.
When Corhen had first joined the council, he had been only 550 years old, and still at least 10' tall with some of the vigor of his youth. Auqron had been forced to ask how the other council members could have gotten such a prestigious member of the Canin race to join the council. It was too good to be true. It had been Cohren himself who had answered, as he said, "I am one of the strongest and the fastest Canin in the world, or so they tell me. Though, out of all my years, I've found that I like to hear stories more than I like to hunt, and one story, passed down through our race over the generations, stuck with me more than most. A story of a fish that chose the greatest Canin hunter, and appeared before him three times, leading the Canin on a chase through the forest of our people day and night. Each time, the fish evaded him, but the fish was testing him. The fourth time, the Canin recognized the fish, and did not give chase. That was when the fish revealed that it was no mere fish, and spoke it's name..."
"I remember it a little differently than that," Auqron interjected, truthfully. This got some laughs from the people in the room.
"Well the story often has different morals, depending on the version or the person telling it, but my favorite is that you shouldn't always be hunting. That is why I am here, god Auqron, to learn of when we are to not hunt." It had still taken Auqron some time and some tests before he had truly believed the Canin was true, but, now, he trusted him as much as the other members of the Council.
Back in the present time, Corhen shambled over to the Canin seat at the table, his hulking guards, one his son, staying by the door. The ancient Canin had wished to bring his great-grandaugher along for some time now. Today was the first time Auqron had agreed, and she took up a place to her ancestor's left, only coming up to his shoulder even when he was seated and she was standing. The other council members were already seated. In the Zunna seat was the middle aged, weathered Ternel, the High Scholar of the Church of Auqron of the Zunna, another in a long line of Zunna, direct descendant of the first mortal Auqron had ever spoken to. In the Merfolk seat, the relatively young Alkite, Mediator between the Merfolk Tribunals, still in her third age. Also, in the newest seat, the seat of the Terravoles, added just this day, the massive and coal-colored Ewnyn, beady eyes glancing about the room.
"Greetings, members of my Eye," Auqron began once everyone was settled, "Today we have a new seat filled: Ewnyn. Please, master Terravole, introduce yourself."
Ewnyn heaved himself out of his chair carefully. He was almost as large as the largest of Corhen's guards, yet for all his imposing size, he was still nervous, glancing around at the other faces before him. He was out of his element here: in the light, above ground. When he spoke, his voice was deep, yet squeaky at the same time, "I am Left Hand Ewnyn Helrke, of Clan Helrke, largest Clan of Terravoles in the holy mountains of Orthuul. Being the Left Hand of the Clan, I see many things, for I am to wander and to find. It is a daunting task for a Clan as large as Clan Helrke, but I command many names."
"A prestigious position, Ewnyn Helrke," Auqron said, glancing at the Merfolk and Zunna seats again. Had he underestimated their ability to find high-ranking individuals for the council that much? "You do know that nothing in this council can be carried back to the other members of your Clan? Not even it's existence or it's location?" Auqron asked the Terravole.
Ewnyn seemed a little surprised, "Uh, y-yes, holy god Auqron. You see, the Head and Right Hand of Clan Helrke have grown content, knowing they are the largest Clan in the mountains. They claim their eyes see far enough that they don't need a Left Hand anymore. They do not say it to my face, but it is my job to know things that I would not know, so I have found it. They keep me around because I am able to find these things, but still, they disregard my contributions. I wish to be appreciated, and while I will never do anything to harm my Clan for all the years I sit upon this council, if you seek to see what others fail to see, you have my allegiance, god Auqron."
Auqron considered the Terravole for a moment before bobbing his head in approval, "Okay, well, welcome then, Ewnyn Helrke, please take your seat," Auqron would need to test his loyalty some more, but, for now, that was acceptable, "Now then, down to business. Are there any immediately important things to speak of?"
Corhen raised his head, and spoke in his ancient roar, "The rage I told the council of before, god Auqron. It has increased greatly in the last few months. It feels as though something is coming... It's a desire to go out hunting, or to spar in the courtyard. Crowds have been forming a lot as of late in the training yards, everyone is eager to try their hand at hurting one another. Before, a Canin would get a scar once a month. Now, I've seen members of my own household gain twelve in a single day. They speak of a great hunt to come, a day to pay back the Whukal, the Jarawoe, and the Zunna," he nodded to Ternel, "...for a slight. Though I remember no slight so grave that we must be rabid. I say it's a madness gripping our people, and it will only bring blood and suffering to all. A Great Hunt should not be."
Auqron thought in silence, while the rest of the council debated the information. Notions flew back and forth. Ternel was interested in counteracting a Great Hunt, preventing the Canin from coming out for slaughter. Ewnyn wanted to watch and see what other information could be gleaned from their rage. Alkite wanted to know the origin of the rage. The god let them debate it for a long time, before he finally interjected.
"Young one, what is your name?" he asked Corhen's great-granddaughter.
The child looked up in surprise. She had been focused on the conversation for the better part of several hours, "Uh, Mansu, god Auqron."
"Tell me, Mansu, what do you think we should do?"
Mansu look about confused. Ewnyn and Alkite also seemed confused that the god was asking a child, but Ternel kept a straight face. After a while, she finally spoke, "Uh, well, this council is here to learn things for you, and we don't know much about what is going on with my people, why we're so angry. We shouldn't interfere directly, not until we have more information, less we take a false step and do more harm than good. I think we should try and find the slight our people are remembering, see if we can explain the rage."
Auqron smiled, "Exactly what I was thinking, Mansu. I see why you wanted to bring her along, Corhen, she's bright," that brought a smile to the ancient Canin's lips. "See that it is done, my Eye. Now, what other matters must we discuss."
The rest of the day was mostly routine. The Wandering Eyes had gained a great knowledge of navigation. The Pirates had been renamed the Gale. A forest of flames had appeared in the south, complete with a city within. A lithefolk caravan was traveling to Zlygoss. The forest of the Human's was spreading, as was the Mushroom Forest of the Whukal. The Elementals were becoming more verbose and wanting to discuss things and make peace. A skirmish between the Orthuulians and the Sun Worhippers had been fought in the Holy Mountains of Orthuul.
Lastly, the Merfolk Mediator brought forward information on a cave laboratory that had been set up during the evil age Adjun had inflicted upon the Merfolk, one that had only recently been discovered. It was very bleak and vile works in that cave, and no one knew how to dispose of it.
"Well, lack of knowledge on how to do something wont do, will it? Take the scraps you found in this cave and flesh it out more, make it into a full school of magic. Though, be careful not to let it corrupt you at the same time. Develop a parallel and opposite school of magic, balance it out. Make sure that no one loses perspective while they work on these things. If that's all, this meeting of the Eye is adjourned."
So it came to pass. The network of spies in the Canin grew and grew, yet evidence of the source of the rage still eluded the eye as they convened once a month. Meanwhile, two new magics were being added to the arsenal of the Merfolk. The two schools they developed, however, were far different than any they had before. Where Weather Control summoned the forces of nature, and Mysticism opened the eyes of the user to a new world, these called upon the strengths within the Merfolk themselves. Each different Merfolk used the school in a different way, but the effects were the same. The dark magic, it summoned tricks, darkness, illusions, fear, and blights. The light magic, the parallel made to keep the race in balance, it healed, created light, comfort, cures, and emotion.
This was not all, but the more one of these two schools were used, the more the user was changed as well. Where the average Merfolk was white with random red splotches, like a Koi fish, as they used the dark school, the white parts of the body faded to grey and then, the closer they got to mastery, pitch black, until they were shadows with random red splotches and cold eyes. On the other side, the more the light school was used, the red splotches slowly grew bronze, then, as one achieved greater control of the magic, bright yellow-gold, as their eyes grew brighter. Those who studied both, experienced both changes, turning to black shadows with golden splotches and focused eyes.
The Illusion and Healing schools of magic had been born.
Spending 5 of my bonus points to spread the Orchard Forest of the Humans 1 inch. Writing that off as natural growth as well.
Ending with 1 normal point and 4 bonus points.
Halupus, his rage mitigated (but no less potent) by the passing of time, eyes Corhen's council with the Fish God curiously. Corhen was a great hunter, a warrior of legend, a very embodiment of the spirit of the Canin. What was he doing in his strange gathering of races? The Canin had no need to consort with these other beings. And yet... one of the greatest living Alpha Canin was here of his own free will. What was this? This odd council must be watched. In the meantime, there is work to do.
The Canin, long-lived as they are, experiment with Blood Magic in many ways. The Alphas are particularly skilled at mastering the skill. After years of experimentation, the Alpha Canin discover a potent secret indeed: Bloodsteel. By folding blood into the steel of weapons and armor and employing a Blood Ritual, the Canin learn to forge Bloodsteel: Armor stronger, lighter, and more flexible than any other known metal. Blades and axes that are razor sharp, unbreakable, and never lose their edge. This knowledge quickly spreads through the Canin civilization. The Canin will be ready for their Great Hunt, and soon. The twisted forests of the Mushroom Men will burn, and their god will be helpless to stop it.
But Halupus is still bothered by the Fish God's influence among the Canin. Auqron's meddling was of no true concern to Halupus, but he must be warned that his Canin were not to be subverted. And, as the bear will warn the fox to leave him to his dinner, so does Halupus deliver a warning to Auqron.
A secluded, small community of Merfolk live out their lives happily. They have broken from the main population of Merfolk and live isolated from them. A perfect place to make a statement. While Halupus does not particularly desire war with Auqron, his growing influence among the Canin must be repaid in kind. One night, as the full moon pierces into the depths of the ocean, these Merfolk change. Their bodies become grey, sleek, huge and dark and terrifying. Wicked teeth grown in their jaws as their mouths become tools of slaughter. The area around their small community fills with blood as they devour every nearby fish.
When sun dawns the next day, the Merfolk are once again themselves. Their shame and fear drives them further away from the other Merfolk. Halupus watches, pleased as this newest race is born.
And for the first time, the Cold God approaches one of his peers. Auqron percieves a huge white wolf before him. Even more shocking than Halupus making a physical appearence is what happens next: He speaks. A guttural voice fills Auqron's mind without the Wolf having actually spoken. The tone is guarded, though not hostile. "Your growing influence among my people is repaid in kind."
With a gust of cold win, Halupus is gone. There is still work to be done. The land must be shaped. This world is not populated enough. More sentient creatures must be brought into it. And they will need territory.
The undeveloped northeastern peninsula of the western continent shudders under Halupus' influence. Mountains, impossibly tall and barren of plant life rip their way up and up and up, until their peaks pierce through the clouds. From the edge of the jungle to the sea, the huge mountains form. Halupus watches, and ponders what he will put there.
Spend 4 points to Create Subrace of Merfolk: Weresharks.
Then spend 15 terraforming points to create 3 inches of colossal, barren mountains called the Spire Peaks on the northeastern peninusla of the western continent.
Points remaining: 0 power points
and
4 terraforming points
{Magic: The RPG}
Adjun rolls up his (metaphorical) sleeves and sees which parts of the world need his attention now. He knows that the Djo Empire has been growing larger in population, and that they would soon require more room to grow than they had at the moment. He grabs at the earth, sifting it through his shadowy fingers, twisting and shaping it to create new tunnels, caverns and caves that connect to those that the Dji call their home. To that end he grants the peninsula to the West of the current Djo lands to the Empire. [Shape land 1'', 5 points; 6/4 remaining]
As he is doing so he spies some odd-shaped beings gliding along the ocean to the East, the coast of the other continent. |What be these queer beings?| he asks himself deep within the cthonic realms of his mind. |A creation of another God? But they are so crude, savage, undeveloped! I must rectify this, and allow them to better serve themselves, as well as not be overtaken by the peoples of the land.| He floats above them, his ethereal form bobbing up and down in the still thrumming air as their pudgy bodies do likewise among the still waters while their sailwings beat the air behind them. He weasels his gnarled fingers into their minds, unlocking areas long ago forgotten. A rush of inspiration pours through those now cleared channels, and the Jarawoe of the pod in question begin to behave in a new, novel manner for members of their race; Though some resist this change, using their faith in Zuwn to steady them against the divine assault, others give into it, gaining a new perspective on life, as well as individual identities. They now lie, cheat, bend the truth and generally deceive. [Advance race in deception/trickery: 5 points, 2/4 remain]
|My of my, all this work is a bit tedious| Thinks the umbral deity to himself; |I believe these lands need a little bit of stirring up.| Txalavar, at the behest of his master and creator, sets down to the city of Syslpyr, in the wispy, innocuous guise of a calm shadow drifting over the area. He coordinates his psychological strike with Adjun's more concrete one. As the lands surrounding the forest become bitterly, chilled (forcing the Syslpyrians to huddle in the warmth of the forest lest they die of exposure in the cruel chill of the ring of ice surrounding them) Txalavar fills their heads with thoughts of isolation, paranoia, claustrophobia, entrapment; so that the cityfolk become jaded, and vicious in their treatment of members of other races, as well as members of their own. [Shape climate 1'' for 4; command avatar {to Corrupt Syslpyr} for 1; 1/0 remain.]
"What do you want?" The white wolf's voice howled in the storm. He could sense the other wolf was also a divine being, although different from any he had sensed before. There were enough gods meddling as it is.
Thaurg's thundering voice pierced through the gale. "I come proposing an alliance. The dark twin's presence is becoming ever more intrusive, and the few that aware of his spreading influence lack the will to retaliate."
"The Canin need no help," Halupus snapped. "The Whukal stand no chance against the great hunters. Now leave!"
The other god stood his ground. "And after your hunt? Do you think Adjun will back down after you have slaughtered his servants?"
"He would be smart to. From now, he will pay for every intrusion with blood, as will you all."
"Then you will be locked in conflict forever. Do not forget that our influence on this world is limited, Halupus - just as you cannot destroy him entirely, so can he not challenge two of us at once. Just as you seek revenge, I seek to remind him of this, and humble him in front of the others."
The cold god remained silent.
"Consider my offer carefully. For now, it still stands." With that, Thaurg vanished into the forest, leaving behind nothing but a set of steaming pawprints and a faint smell of ozone.
-----
Further south, two elementals emerged from their native jungle. First to step onto the Great Lake's shore was a large dust elemental, hacking through the unruly tangle with an amethyst machete. He scanned the area around him carefully - disturbing reports have recently come from the lake, and the vast maze of floating spires provided perfect cover for an ambush. "I still think this is a bad idea, Maltea", he muttered as his companion, a female water elemental, joined him on the shore. "We don't know what's driving us away from the lake. We don't know why. And even if they could understand you - "
"I understand your concerns, Cronu." Maltea interrupted him. "And by now you should understand mine too."
Cronu sighed. They have been arguing about visiting the Great Lake for two weeks now, and although he felt uneasy letting a friend walk into danger alone, he was getting tired of it. "Alright, but be careful." He hesitated for a moment. "I'll wait for you here." She couldn't blame him - dust elementals had a mortal fear of water; it not only destroyed their form but trapped their medium, damning them to an eternity of helplessness.
The water elemental smiled at him. "I will. Thanks for coming this far with me." Without a further word, she stepped into the cool water.
Cronu just sat down on the gravelly beach when a serpentine creature erupted out of the water. A pair of enormous, leathery wings lay folded on its back, and despite towering over both of them, its body was sleek, built for agility rather than strength. Landing on a nearby rock, it janked a trout from its bone spear and stashed it in a leather pouch. Cronu and Maltea stood frozen - the strange being's concentration was heavily invested in the water below, and it had failed to notice them. Maltea looked back at Cronu briefly before cautiously approaching, ignoring his panicked looks. When she stood just two feet behind the winged serpent, Maltea began to speak; startled, it whipped its spear around with enough force to send her barreling through the lake's surface. For a moment, she lay stunned in the water, but its cool embrace calmed her down. Once she had regained her composure, she surfaced again. The creature was visibly shaken by the intrusion, its spear firmly trained on her but its stance hinting at flight rather than agression.
"Water demons are to be kept from these waters", he (or so Maltea assumed) rasped. His emerald eyes darted between her and Cronu, who was screaming something in the distance.
"We are not demons. We are Elementals, and are of no threat to you. The Great Lake's water has long been a source of life for those of us who chose water as their medium, and I simply wish to know why we are being denied access to it."
The creature hesitated, lowering his hunting spear but still suspicious. "These are Drake fishing grounds", he replied. "Our entire race depends on the lake's bounty for sustenance. We must protect it from any outside influences."
"I respect your kind's needs, but - " she paused for a moment. "What is your name, Drake?"
"...Pirrym", he answered reservedly.
"A pleasure to meet you Pirrym. Mine is Maltea." The Drake bowed his head slightly in recognition, not taking his eyes off her. "I understand why you are protective of your territory, but the Great Lake is of great importance to us too. Surely we can accomodate for each other."
Pirrym pondered this statement, occasionally hissing to himself. "Flesh without flesh..." Without warning, he shot a cliff face hanging above them. He beckoned to Maltea before she could begin to protest, and she scrambled up the porous rock behind him.
---
As the two ascended the floating mountains, Maltea began to notice a change in scenery. Tough grasses clung to the precarious ledges, and further up strange trees grew from every crevice, even underneath overhangs. Pirrym leaped between cliffs with effortless grace, spiraling through the air in a gravity-defying dance; Maltea only barely kept his pace, occasionally resorting to distorting her limbs for the larger gaps. Waterfalls dotted the larger mountains and blanketed the area in a fine mist; the moisture kept her invigorated, but even so she was tiring quickly. Not that she had a choice - she would never find her own way down, and one misstep meant a straight drop into nothingness. "Where are we going?" She was caught off-guard by the unexpected journey, and it hadn't occurred to her until now she had no idea why she was being led into the mountains. Her guide paused, turning to face her for the first time since the left. "I cannot speak for our kind", he replied, "but the Gilded can."
It was already past midday when the first signs of others became evident. At first, crude bridges of flax and leather spanned the larger canyons; the further they climbed, the more common and well-built they became. Carved trails and whale-bone bridges converged into roads, along which they encountered the occasional Drake. They looked at the elemental with perplexion and disbelief rather than the fear or hostility she expected, but otherwise did not break their stride. As the two passed through smaller townships, Maltea noticed how life amongst the Drakes seemed to flow seamlessly - not once had she seen one waiting or resting. There was also a subtle change in the Drakes themselves in the high villages - their skin turned from a dark green hue to a reddish-brown, and their lithe snake-like bodies became more heavily built.
After several hours of ascent, the pinnacle was in sight. Pirrym instructed Maltea to wait outside an enormous archway carved into the mountain, then vanished into the cavern. Grateful for the brief repose, she took some time to soak in the landscape. Countless spires drifted lazily beneath them, and yet larger ones towered far above the one they had just scaled. Although the mist hid away most of the lake beneath, the sky was clear enough that she could see the western continent peeking over the horizon ahead. To her right, the desert that isolated the elementals from the hostile north glittered in the sun - the golden sand seemed to have spread quickly, blanketing a small mountain chain between the two smaller lakes.
Finally, Pirrym emerged from the arch. "Lazak is the Gilded of this spire," he motioned towards the entrance. "I have told him everything you have told me. He will speak to you, then I will guide you back to the lake."
Maltea smiled in return. "I know you still don't trust me, but you gave me this change nonetheless. No matter what the outcome, I am grateful for that."
"It is our code." The Drake's tone had the slightest undertones of indignation. Without further words, he ushered her in.
---
Maltea found herself in a large, circular room. Contrary to her expectations, the interior was as bright as day - rays of light pierced through holes in the walls, and the sun softly shone through a mat of thin leather spanned over the ceiling. The room itself was unbearably hot, and could easily accomodate a large hut within its walls. Crude wooden shelves laden with various pottery, leather tomes and trinkets towered far above her reach, but even the grand proportions of the room seemed huddled in the presence of the Drake standing in front of her. His deep gold scales seemed to give off a glow of their own, as did his ruby eyes. His heavy frame only hinted at the snake-like grace he once possessed, and even at full height Maltea only barely stood over his thighs. He bowed deeply, letting his wings spread over the entire room, then crouched to level with her face. "We are not here to negotiate," Lazak's voice rumbled. "Not today anyway. Today we talk. you will learn of Drakes, and I of Elementals."
For hours, the two discussed everything they could think of. Lazak seemed especially intrigued in the Medium, how they inhabited bodies of all the world's elements yet still saw each other in the same way. "Flesh without flesh, soul without heart", he mused. "It is something our people have never been able to accept as natural. That aside, we may have in more common than you believe; we do not measure lifespan by age, but rather by element. Our hatchlings are earthbound for many years, and are as such associated with stone. As they mature, they gain the strength to use their wings. At this age, they are associated with water - adept lake hunters, still lacking the stamina to fly long distances, but much nimbler than their elders. The third, and by far the longest, age is that of the air. It is only then that they are truly considered adult; to prove themselves worthy of the skies, they must set on a great journey on wing." He paused for a while, lost in thought.
"I presume your skin color marks these ages some how," Maltea was reminded of the different kinds of Drakes she saw on her ascent. "Green for earth, Brown for water, Red for air, correct?"
"Well observed", Lazak answered distantly.
"And golden scales for the fourth age? The age of fire?" Maltea prompted.
"The age of flame, yes." His attention suddenly returned to her. "The last age begins on the day we breathe our first flame. Every day after that, we grow larger, stronger, and the flame burns more fiercely inside us - until we are consumed by that very flame." The ancient drake gingerly extracted a package from a shelf. He stripped away the blackened leather to reveal a delicate, tear-shaped shale slab; conjuring a single plume of flame from his jaws, impossibly delicate carvings flared up from the stone. As the stone cooled, the patterns shifted across its surface, then faded away entirely. "When we enter the age of flame, we are taken to the Sun Codex for the first time. It is our sacred wellspring of knowledge, a flower of stone we hope will one day open. Its petals are etched with divine messages from which we have built our laws - most petals dance like this at the sun's touch, but there is one for every Drake that visits, one that will only reveal its messages to his breath."
They talked a while longer, but the light was beginning to dim. With a pang of guilt, Maltea remembered she had promised Cronu to be back before nightfall. "Apologies, Lazak, but I am keeping a friend waiting. Thank you for gracing me with your time."
"And thank you for humoring me." Lazak pulled himself to his full height. "I'm certain this session was as enlightening to you as it was for me. I will speak to the others on your behalf - in the meantime, do not hesitate to return."
"Until next time then." With a smile, Maltea bowed and left.
Expect major revisions, but at least something's up for now.
7+2(+9)
6 points to Create Race, populating the floating mountains with Drakes, then 3 points to Purify Race on the Drakes. Using 9 points to Shape Land and Climate, extending the desert north of the elemental jungle west one inch and raising a small chain of sandstone mountains within it, then matching the desert's climate.
[Clan Flamingo] Tier Archivist
[15:21] <@CC> Remember, if you argue, you are an idiot.
Untrophied Wins:
Perfect MCC Scores: 2
---------------------------------------------------------------
19 stored + 9, 28. 27 Terraforming.
Orthuul shudders a moment. Something has changed. A fog clouds his vision of this world he has been so carefully manipulating. Something has changed. He ascends away from the world, looking down at it. Something has changed. There is a storm brewing, one that will force the weak to die or become strong. Something must change. He moves towards the mountains he had so carefully crafted. The north is full of dense jungle, the south remains untouched. He drives the river feeding Puck’s canyon underground, then with a deafening roar, burns the land until it glows, letting it slowly cool to a mirrorlike surface of volcanic glass. He then bends the climate, making this mirror ground a land with little moisture, harsh winds, and rapid changes in temperature. Without the warmth of the ground below the nights threaten to freeze travelers, and without shade from clouds above the land seems almost like an oven. Those that wish to brave challenge will do so through other paths.
He turns to the seafarers who he finds himself favouring. He guides them to find minerals laced in the mountains themselves. Their retrieval is perilous but their reward vast. They find themselves armed with the tools to take down great beasts and sink vessels that would do them harm. Whether or not they trade this newfound technology well becomes another matter to concern himself with. He entrusts this task to a newly founded order of captains. The Armada will handle their merchant agreements, their treaties, and what military plans they will undoubtedly need to make to face the coming storm.
I have changed.
At the last of his preparations, he finds himself exhausted, and accompanied by a whispy, shadowy raven perched on his shoulder, ever in the corner of his eye but never truly in focus. An omen? Perhaps.
Actions:
(terraform points)
3x Shape land 1” - southern border of mountains on east continent not to interfere with canyon, glass the surface- resulting in a more or less obsidian surface. This should be down to bedrock. Any rivers should be able to pass under it unharmed.
3x Shape Climate 1” - dry, windy, harsh, and extremely varied climate over the glass shelf. Nights are frigid and unforgiving, days are fit to burn those who tread upon its surface.
(Regular points)
Event: Rich ferrous deposits found in Pirate cove. (7)
Advance City, Pirate City: Steelwork. (5)
Advance City, Pirate City: Ironclad Ships (5)
Advance City, Pirate City: Black Powder weaponry (5)
Create Order: Order of the Armada in Pirate City(6)
AND I’M SPENT.
My helpdesk should you need me.
Power Roll of 10 for a Total of 11 with 13 Bonus Points.
"I feel the world is growing restless, Lord Auqron," the milky-eyed Ewnyn said from his seat on the council. He'd been around a long time, so far, but, while he had proved valuable many times, Auqron still didn't trust him. He was simply too invested in the matters Terravoles.
The Eye was very different than it had been a century and a half before. A new Mediator of the Merfolk Tribunals, Mellisna. A new High Scholar of the Church of Auqron, Netu. Corhen was long dead, his still young granddaughter, the clever Mansu, taking his place. Only Ewnyn remained of the council seat that were when he had joined the Eye, and he was on his way out. Meanwhile, Auqron was as boisterous and child-curious as he had been when time began. Suppose that was just the nature of being a god.
"It's true, we've all felt it," added Mellisna, "What with the Weresharks adding to the troubles we've all faced, and the smouldering turmoil spawning from the Canin, the world is calling for motion."
"I know, the thing that gets me is that we don't know why. This group, my Eye. A council made for the purpose of gaining all information, can only seem to tell me the stuff that I could find myself," the god snapped. He was a little frustrated with their meager progress over the years, and it was beginning to show.
Netu and Mellisna both shrank from the words, but Mansu looked up, "It's not as simple as all that, Fish God." Mansu was a remarkable youth, full of the ferocity of her race, the pride her station in her own society afforded, yet both tempered by her steady hand and thoughtfulness. Auqron believed she would make a mighty leader for her race, eventually, "We are only so many, our influence does not spread far enough for us to truly get the whole image. We need to grow, faster."
Netu spoke, a thought crossing his mind, "Perhaps the Gale would be a good candidate to have join us. They travel far and wide across the world, and we've been using them for one of our main sources of information already. If we could perhaps persuade a member of their armada to take a seat in secret, we'd be able to get a more rounded look at the information."
Mellisna shook her head, "No, we already have been making use of the Gale information lines. We will be able to continue making use of them in the future, and us Merfolk can travel as far and wide as they do. The Elementals, they're right in the heart of the turmoil on the eastern continent, and word has it that they have many friends. This is a potential resource we have yet to tap. We should try and persuade one of their officials to take a seat on your Eye, Lord Auqron."
"Hmmm, you all three raise good points. Though, I feel I agree most with Mellisna. Create a seat upon the council for the Elementals, acquire as high ranking of an individual as you can manage. Also, if the Gale are already as vital to the Eye as you say, we should go ahead and provide them with a seat. Elementals first, though."
"It will be done, God Auqron," Ewnyn squeaked as he leaned forward, "Now, there are some mobilizations of the sun worshippers I'd like the discuss..."
Auqron narrowed his eyes. Ewnyn truly was too preoccupied with the Terravoles
Halapus's little stunt with the Weresharks had not gone unnoticed by the fish god, however. It had boiled him, though, instead of pushing back and meddling even more in the Canin affairs, he had centered his power upon the Merfolk even more. He thought it strange, actually. The wolf god had said that his influence in the Merfolk was growing, yet he had simply made a new race, related to the Merfolk, for sure, but his control over actual Merfolk was the same as always. Still, if he wanted to have influence over his children, he had sent out a taunt, Let us see who holds more influence over my people, wolf god.
Even now, a great Mefolk metropolis was being erected upon the shores of the island where Auqron had first influenced the fabric of the world, a vast expanse of it extending underwater, great manses and villas carved out of the undersea canyons and coral reefs themselves, and an impressive portion of it rising up into the canopy of the jungle on the island, with houses carved out of the trees, artificial rivers and waterfalls spreading out everywhere. Though, everywhere, above the water and below it, libraries stood. Great stone structures containing kelp scrolls and stone tablets, the nobility even had their own libraries as part of their homes. This would be the Great City of Memories, Kellias.
Not only this, but yet a new magic had been gifted to the Merfolk, the magic of shields and resistance. A magic born of the coupled studying of bloodsteel and the Merfolk's own school of Healing Magic. A magic that would be come to known as "Warding Magic".
Spending 10 of my bonus points to spread the Orchard Forest of the Humans 2 inches south. Writing that off as natural growth as well.
Ending with 1 normal point and 3 bonus points.
Terraforming points: 13
Suddenly, almost too fast to be seen, a blur of grey and silver feathers drops like a stone from above. The flock never even realizes what happened until the falcon has already landed on the ground with its captured prey. The Alpha Canin watch the bird of prey take its meal, and their expression is one of amused respect. Successful hunters, no matter what sort of creature they may be, are always left to enjoy their spoils.
And Halupus has found his predator. Any creature his Canin respect must be worthy indeed. His new mountain dwelling race will rule the skies.
Halupus concentrates his power, and the Raptorans are born. Called the Spire Falcons by the other races, the giant birds are similar in size to the Canin, and as swift as their smaller cousins. Their feathers are usually some mixture of white, black, silver, steel, and blue-grey. They are sentient and extraordinarily intelligent to make up for their lack of opposable thumbs. The males and females, unlike most birds of prey, are similar in size. The only way to tell males from females is the slightly different shape of the wings, something only the Raptorans generally notice. Like all falcons, they have extremely sharp eyes and ears, with a very weak sense of smell.
As an avian beak and throat are unsuited to speaking, Halupus makes them capable of telepathic communication. It's not the same as speech. Words don't form in their mind to be projected outwards. Instead they broadcast a massively complex series of emotions and feelings to "speak". They can only send these emotions outward, not recieve them from other species. Fortunately, their impressive intellects allow them to quickly learn languages and adapt their empathy-speech for other species to understand.
Their natural empathy and brilliance makes these creatures somewhat more benevolent than Halupus originally intended, though the Wolf is not unsatisfied with the results. His falcons are noble creatures, not as twisted as the Mushroom Men or as primal as the Canin.
Now they need a way to take advantage of their natural speed. Halupus manipulates the wind currents around the Spire Peaks. The winds every direction around the bottoms of the mountains are drawn in and upward along the mountain's sides. At the top of the Peaks, the drawn-in winds flow outwards, creating powerful updrafts and air currents for the Raptorans to take advantage of. This accomplishes two things at once: Raptorans near the top of the Peaks can soar outward on the air currents with little effort. Raptorans returning to the Spires can use the upflowing air to soar back up to the top without too much energy expended.
Spending 12 terraforming points to manipulate the air currents around the Spire Peaks in the way described above. Think of the general shape as a mushroom cloud: Air flows in and up from the lower levels of the mountains and flows outward at the top.
{Magic: The RPG}
2+3(+9)
Something has been amiss in the world lately. From the perspective of its inhabitants, life continued as usual, but the gods have become quiet. They still make their presence felt, but only in subtle ways, leaving little to no mark of their passing. They still wielded tremendous power, but it was slowly fading like a dying ember. Mustering what power he could, Thaurg stripped away the soil and bedrock of the world until only a hole into the earth's blazing heart remained. In a tremendous blast of heat, power surged into the world again - hopefully enough to breathe life back into it.
5 points to Shape Terrain and 8 to double Climate in the large area south of the floating mountains. A giant abyss going all the way down. A network of scoria bridges criss-cross along it, become sparser and more fragile the further down you go. Hot air creates powerful updrafts in the area and sucks in colder air from the surrounding area, creating violent gales that pull almost everything towards the pit. Hurricanes are an almost daily occurrence.
1 point remaining.
[Clan Flamingo] Tier Archivist
[15:21] <@CC> Remember, if you argue, you are an idiot.
Untrophied Wins:
Perfect MCC Scores: 2
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